#and going from phone to ipad but i enjoyed it
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frostwork · 1 year ago
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Superconduct
Using the pose from The Kiss by Francesco Hayez. Hello 4 other people in kaeqing nation.
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kitsunecrows · 1 year ago
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study break! 🍵 (read tags)
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indefiniteavatar · 7 months ago
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So basically, in a case about him shoving money at someone so they shut up about him. . .he can’t shut the fuck up himself. I would say something clever and funny here, except the sad part is that this is just so normal in current politics that it’s just. . .not hilariously absurd behavior anymore? Not to say that it’s not absurd - it is beyond such, but it is just. . . predictable, I suppose.
I guess this is how I feel about politics lately? Either I get mad at everything or I try to laugh at everything and normally that works because politicians usually aren’t so tragically stupid so very often, but now I just kinda have to chuckle at the particularly eyeroll worthy things like this, and try to ignore everything else or my brain will explode.
#maybe that’s my biggest pet peeve about the current state of politics#Normally I like having discussions with people#of various mindsets and lifestyles and backgrounds#while my personal standpoint about many if not most political things is pretty solid. I also enjoy finding out more about things.#It’s always nice to learn more about things.#when it gets to a point like this or let’s be real-a point like where it got a few months ago when. More like a couple years ago honestly#There’s just so much. Too much. And two try to process all of it especially in a way such that one keeps up with useful discussion? oof.#I know I meant to do something else in these tags – something more specific – but at least on mobile#I just lost like three tags because the one I was working on hit 140 but when I was warned#I didn’t get to backspace or anything. I just kind of deleted the whole thing.#And in my confusion and attempt to undo what I had done#I managed to backspace a couple times and lose the finish tag above that one#and of course my first attempt at explaining that I had lost two tags turned into three tags because#I lost the first attempts that said two tags because it went over and yet again my attempt of not backspace this time#I just lost another two tags and then at this point I don’t even remember where I was going with this train of thought either#tl;dr: I wish I could take as much amusement from this as I want to but I can’t because shit like this is just so fucking normal#but hey it’s better than January 6 or trying to nuke a hurricane so I suppose I can live with it#right so I realize that I got to read all of the things I just typed in the page before this#so I did and while I have a laughable amount of nowhere near the fuck enough spoons#there’s a very good chance I am going to come back to this when I get on my iPad or PC#There’s also a very good chance I’m going to completely forget this post exists if not the app entirely#but given that I finally downloaded this on my actual phone instead of my tablet for the first time in years#And I just lost another fucking tag#this time naturally it had to be one with Contant that I remember as semantically important#but similarly naturally of course I don’t bloody well remember#right so I am going to go back to the stuff I was doing now cause I was doing stuff before I saw a Tumblr notification#which I didn’t actually look at at the time but but I can absolutely be sure that it was a hefty part of the reason why#when I found something that I wanted to post about and a context that had a larger audience and not just individuals#didn’t have FB/Reddit (tho lbr I would probably have a 6 foot nose if I tried to imply they were great social networks)#which goes back to seeing the tumblr notif & still having a big Nostalgia so. hi here i am
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bbydoll18xx · 1 month ago
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I’ve Got a Wand and a Rabbit (Bonus)
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Paige wants to try scissoring, but she’s too shy to tell you.
Paige Bueckers x Reader
Masterlist
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Word Count: 1.2k
Themes: smut, humor, fluff if u squint
A/N: one of my beautiful anons suggested this and I just want to thank whoever it was. This shit is too good. To those who enjoy shy, bottom Paige: you are welcome ;)
~
“Babe,” you say for the third time, trying to catch Paige’s attention, who was deeply engrossed in her cell phone. She had been acting weird all day. She was usually all over you, clinging onto you, trying to get you as close to her as possible. But today, she was glued to her phone, only giving you short answers, and you were starting to get annoyed. 
“Madison!” You snap, and her head whips up to meet your furrowed brow with a guilty look on her face. 
She smiles sheepishly at you. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, leaving her phone face down on the arm of the couch and coming over to where you were sitting. “Didn’t mean to ignore my pretty girl.”
You look at her suspiciously as she pulls you into her lap, pressing hot, open mouth kisses to your jaw and trailing them down your neck. 
You were not an idiot. You had dated multiple conniving liars, and your instincts were never wrong. The situation reeked of something fishy, and you were going to figure it out. You sincerely hoped nothing crazy was going on; you actually really liked Paige.
And because you were a girl with a pulse, you gave into Paige’s mouth, as she drew you in with her unrelenting charm.
God, you were so fucked. 
She pulls you into her bedroom to have her way with you, making you forget all about her weird behavior and her abandoned cell phone.
For now at least. 
~
The next day rolls around and you are determined to figure out the source of Paige’s odd behavior. You walk into her apartment quietly, giggling to yourself as you imagine spy music in the background as you creep towards her closed door. There was no noise coming from her room, and you were not actually sure if she was in there or not. 
Taking a deep breath, you carefully open the door and step into the room. Paige is laying on her stomach with her large headphones covering her ears. Her back is to you, and she is watching something intently on her iPad. 
She was always fucking around on that thing. 
‘She’s probably playing Roblox again,’ you snicker inside your head before taking another step forward to see what she was looking at.
Your heart stumbles in your chest as you glance over her shoulder to see two girls scissoring in broad daylight on the screen, and you let out a gasp, giving you away.
Paige whips her head around to see you staring at her with your mouth open in shock. Her cheeks bloom with embarrassment, and she rubs a hand across her neck before sending you a sheepish smile. “I can explain?”
You take a seat on her bed, wringing your sweaty hands together. “You know I don’t care that you’re watching porn right? But, like, why?” You ask, still in shock.
Paige sighs, looking back at the paused screen of her iPad that was haphazardly thrown onto her pillows. “I wanted to try scissoring with you. And I’ve never done that shit. And I was scared to bring it up,” she mumbles.
You giggle, and she whines in protest, pushing at your arm. “Not funny,” she pouts.
“Actually, it’s pretty fucking hilarious!” You cackle, poking at her side. “But why didn’t you just tell me? Who was the one who taught you how to use a vibrator?” You say pointedly. “And that was before we were even dating.”
“I know,” she groans, putting her head in her hands. “I just get kinda shy ‘bout this shit.”
“You poor baby,” you coo. “Now, c’mon, let's go scissor.”
Paige looks at you with a dumbfounded expression. “What?” 
“Well don’t you want to try it? I’m horny, and I can see you’re soaked through those flimsy sweatpants,” you add, pointing to her crotch. 
Her face turns bright red again. 
Her sheepishness was divine, and you were eager to show her the many pleasures of scissoring. You were going to leave her absolutely wrecked.
~
Paige’s breathless whines cut through the air as you press hot, wet kisses to her inner thighs. She writhes against her bedsheets, and you continue to tease her.
“You look so pretty all spread out f’me,” you simper, overtly pleased with yourself. No one could get a rise out of her like you. 
“Such a fuckin’ tease,” she grunts, throwing an arm across her face. Her hips jump up as you swipe your thumb across her swollen clit in retaliation. “Please, baby,” she cries, thrusting her bottom lip out in a ridiculous pout.
Your own pussy was dripping in excitement, and you doubted you’d be able to hold off much longer, so you decided to show her a little mercy.
“C’mere,” you instruct, pulling her closer and slotting her open legs through yours. Loud gasps ring out as your slick pussies connect as you both adjust to the feeling. 
Paige leans forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss before she rolls her hips experimentally, leaving you to moan into her mouth. It was raw, the sheer magnetism exuding out from between the two of you. 
Grabbing onto her long, toned leg, you use it to slide her soaked folds against yours, ensuring your clits aligned perfectly. It was erotic, and as you stared at Paige’s heaving body, you felt another gush trickle down onto the soft skin of your inner thighs.
Her mouth is open, head tilted back, as she inhales sharply. Her grip moves to your ass, and she sends a stinging slap to your sensitive skin. 
“Fuck,” you moan out, rolling your hips again and watching as your movement sends shockwaves through Paige’s body. Her thighs tremble and her tits bounce as you pull her in close to you, kissing her deeply as you grind against her. 
“S’good,” she mumbles against your mouth before a needy whine leaves her lips with another roll of your hips. “Can’t last much longer,” she pants out.
You stroke her cheek, making her look into your eyes as you speed up your movements. The noises were downright filthy as your pussy slid wetly against hers, the friction quickly bringing you to a glorious edge. 
Paige cums with your name on her lips, her body shuddering as the pleasure rips through her. Expletives and moans fill the air as you and Paige come down from your highs together.
As your breathing evens out, you reach to move her blonde hair out of her face, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“That was way better than I expected,” she grins, and you laugh.
“Now what are you going to do the next time you wanna try out something new?” You ask, a teasing tone ringing through your voice.
Paige sighs, looking bashful. “I’m gonna tell you instead of watching it on Pornhub.”
You pull her in for another kiss. “That’s my good girl.”
~
Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think
xoxo katy
Taglist:
@fullladypanda-blog, @omg-imtumbling, @tenaciousglitternerd, @oldcrdigan, @paigebuxkets, @the-other-half , @patscorner @dietcokesmom @ch12334 @double22-k @inthedeathofherreptuation , @authentic-girl03 , @blueredg52 @tndaqlifwy
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luvsupa · 2 months ago
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a/n: writing this bc uni just started for me and I hope this happens to me in class </3 (minus the embarrassing part)
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choso sat in the back of the lecture hall, his oversized headphones blasting music so loud you could hear the faint beat, despite being seated right next to him. you tried to focus on the professor up front, but the heavy metal practically vibrated through your brain. with a huff, you paused your typing, your long acrylic nails hovering above the keys, and turned to look at him—now admiring his looks.
his head bobbed along with the music, thick fingers scribbling notes on his large ipad. his hands were adorned with chrome heart rings, matching perfectly with his facial piercings, and every time you saw him, he had on new jewelry that just made him… more attractive. this time, instead of his usual two buns, his hair was down, cascading past his shoulders. god, he looked good like that. you really wanted to tell him to keep his hair down more often, but just being near him made your heart race too fast to even speak.
he was all dressed in black, chunky doc martens completing his look, and you hadn’t realized how long you’d been staring at him until he paused his music, sliding one side of his headphones off to look at you. your heart stopped.
“is my music too loud?” he asked softly, his voice catching you completely off guard. it was… sweet? you blinked, your laptop screen dimming as it fell asleep, just like your focus.
“just a bit,” you mumbled, watching as he grabbed his phone, sliding down the volume with a smile that made your body melt.
“i like you…” the words slipped out before you could stop them.
choso froze, one hand halfway to his headphones, looking at you like you’d just confessed. which… you basically did.
“i-i mean, i like your outfit!” you squeaked, heat flooding your body as your hands became sweaty as you mentally slapped yourself. choso just stared, eyebrows raised.
“n-not that i wouldn’t like you!” you scrambled to explain, your voice lowering to avoid the stares from the people sitting nearby. “i-it just slipped out, i swear!”
choso’s lips twitched, his amusement barely contained as he fully took off his headphones, leaning in slightly as if to hear you better. why not tease her, he thinks
“ohh, i see. so, you wouldn’t like me, huh? that’s a little harsh.” his voice took on a mock-hurt tone, but the teasing glint in his eyes was undeniable.
you gasped, totally falling for it. “no! i didn’t mean it like that! cho’, i’m so—”
wait.
you froze. did you just call him “cho’”? you definitely had never exchanged names, much less nicknames! your face drained of colour as choso smirked, clearly enjoying your panic.
“cho’?” he raised a brow, his lip piercing catching the light. “didn’t know we were close like that.” he chuckled, low and teasing. “but i don’t mind. it’s cute.”
you wanted to melt into the floor. the secondhand embarrassment from the other students was evident, and your heart was pounding too hard to think straight. you shot up from your seat, nearly knocking over your bag in your rush to escape. all eyes were on you as you bolted out the back of the classroom, face burning with mortification.
you sprinted to the nearest bathroom, slamming the door behind you as you leaned against the sink. “oh my gosh,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands. he was totally going to think you were a stalker now. you’d found his instagram before it went private, and you’d seen his younger brother yuji calling him “cho’” in the comments. you were doomed.
meanwhile, back in the classroom, choso couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. he found your flustered state adorable—he didn’t think you were creepy at all. in fact, he wished you’d stayed a little longer so he could keep teasing you. with a soft chuckle, he tore a piece of paper from his artbook from his bag and scribbled down his number quickly as he placed the torn paper on your laptop.
“you can always call me cho’ ;)”
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ferrstappen · 1 year ago
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max the wag: caught in the middle l mv1
a/n: so... this isn't the best part of the series but I saw this post on instagram last week and just couldn't resist! hope you enjoy it <3 x
pairing: Max Verstappen x fem reader
genre: fluff
you can find the rest of max the wag here <3
summary: You find Max on a WAGs Instagram page, just not how you'd imagine.
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Mexico Grand Prix, 2023
The only time you left the energy station during race weekends was when Max was crowned the winner of the Grand Prix, making your usual route the back entrance, energy station, parc fermé and then, if people were lucky, would catch a glimpse of Max and you leaving hand in hand, big smiles on your faces even if you always tried to keep your head down.
Sure, this wasn’t always the easiest for you, wanting to be there with Max most time, but in the early stages of your relationship when you first attended a Grind Prix as his girlfriend, you told Max it wasn’t an interest of yours to be known or to have your face plastered on Instagram profiles. Of course, it was inevitable, but both you and Max tried your best to make it work, even if it meant Max would have to begrudgingly answer a question about the relationship to the fans so they wouldn’t start speculating.
Max even made an effort to stop F1TV from broadcasting you, and it cost him an app exclusive interview. 
This never worked to ease the break up rumors always emerging. You were able to put the latest one to rest during Qatar where you were waiting with your arms wide open when he was crowned champion, shortly kissing his lips and forehead during the commotion, everyone trying to get a hold of him. 
Of course, that was the highlight of the weekend even if Max didn’t win the race, but a close second was the appearance of a new WAG, a gossip both you and Max had closely followed since pretty much the beginning of the season, but you never crossed paths with her and were only aware of the confirmation when you were back in the hotel.
Now, you were mindlessly scrolling through Instagram posts, getting ready to watch the race in your apartment in Monaco with Jimmy and Sassy, the F1 app playing on the iPad screen, when a particular post caught your attention. 
It was Max, completely clueless of what was going on behind him: Rebecca and Carlos were easy to spot, absolutely not trying to hide, happy smiles and not trying to hide. 
You didn’t notice the F1 transmission was focusing on Max inside the garage, but the first thing you did was send the post to Max.
MAX BABE, YOU RUINED THE SHOT!!!
The camera kept following Max as he checked his phone for the last time, and this time you were thankful for it since you were able to check his every facial expression as he opened the message. 
What am I looking at, schatz? A terrible picture of me before the race??
Are you trying to help Lando win??
The transmission showed how GP approached Max to go over the strategy, forcing Max to hand over his phone before seeing your answers. 
Babe, she’s Carlos gf! Remember back in Barcelona when we weren’t sure if it was true? WELL IT IS
IT’S THEM IN THE BACK!!!
The gossip was soon forgotten was you watched Max win once again, texting your congratulations while pointing at Max in the TV for Jimmy and Sassy to see, even if you could sense their judgement.
Right after the podium ended the phone vibrated, your favorite part of race day when you weren’t able to be with Max, was the mandatory FaceTime call, showing you his trophy, completely soaked in champagne, giving you his best smile. 
“Congratulations honey! You were incredible, it was a great race, I’m sure you enjoyed it!” You animatedly said to him while wearing one of your own Red Bull jersey with his number on it. 
“Yes, yes… so, did he really cheat on his ex?” Max asked and you gave him a confused look.
“What are you talking about?”
Max stared at your face in the screen, giving you a look of disbelief. “Carlos! You sent me that post of that horrible picture with them in the back,”
Now that you were caught up, it was impossible not to appreciate your boyfriend right now, with his blue eyes wide open, still holding his trophy, but waiting to be updated on whatever was going on outside the track. “I have no idea if he cheated, you were the one who overheard the Ferrari mechanics!”
“But you are the WAG, schatz!” Max argued. 
You scoffed. “Yes, and I am the worst WAG ever and you know that!”
“Don’t say that about yourself, there’s nothing wrong about wanting to keep your privacy,” Max reassured you, like he always did. 
“Maybe I can put on a show next week and try to find out what people know…” You said to yourself. 
“I’m sure Charles’ ex knows… what was her name?” Max asked you while trying his best to remember. 
You chuckled before answering. “Charlotte, baby,” you replied and he nodded his head as if he was trying to tell you he always knew, it just slipped his mind. “and yeah, I’m sure she knows but I don’t want to talk to her just to interrogate her, you know? Maybe,” you were going to continue before Max interrupted.
“Schatz, I have to go but I swear I’ll figure out who may know more about this, okay? I love you, can’t wait to see you,”
You hurriedly said an “I love you” before the call ended, knowing Max was going to do his best to gather information he’d be waiting to share once you reunited in Brazil. And maybe, just maybe, you’d consider arrive to the track walking hand in hand, kissing his cheek for good luck, for everyone to see. 
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ghouldump · 2 months ago
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Love Me | Lestat de Lioncourt x Bi!Reader
ෆ as your companionship seems to be failing, you retreat, seeking comfort from a woman who looks awfully similar.
a short fic from me to you. bi reader, as well as rockstar lestat, has been high in demand. i actually accidentally deleted a few really good ones, but there i honestly write whenever i’m bored, so more is bound to come along.
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Throwing the large book, you expected it to hit him in the head, but before it could connect, the book went left, falling onto the floor.
“How long will you continue this, ma chérie, you don't menstruate, so why must you go on like this? Hm, do you want to shop, a new handbag, shoes, a new boy toy?” Lestat asked, smirking. Behind the grin, he was incredibly frustrated. The two of you had been arguing for over an hour, and he didn't even know why.
“What does that have to do with anything? You always have to ridicule, when a problem is being addressed,” you screamed, a few tears escaping. As much as you tried to hold them back, the barrier was crumbling, as you grew angrier.
“Are you serious? What is the problem? Go on”
“That boy that you bought home, he looked like him-
“It was merely a coincidence”
“And the one before that, and before that, and many more. All of them resembled him, your Louis,” you whispered, wiping your tears.
“All of them were also drained and burned”
“After you fucked them,” you said, shaking your head as he chuckled.
“50 years, I have given myself to you, and you alone, but I haven't been enough, I’m not Louis”
“Y/n-
“You revealed your identity to the entire world for him. I let you turn me at only nineteen to fill your lonely void, and you’ve never told me you loved me, do you even love me?”
“What kind of point are you trying to prove? I told you, Louis and I had a very different relationship, than what you and I-
“Right, you loved him, and I was the replacement,” you laughed, grabbing your phone and handbag.
“Where are you going?”
“Out, text me from your iPad, if you need anything,” you grumbled. He was too much of an illiterate man-child to even learn how to use a phone, depending on you and Siri.
“The sun will be out soon”
“I won't be long,” you said, making sure to slam the door.
Your emotions were all over the place, angered at the terrible decisions you'd made over the years. You were a young party girl, in the 70s, when you met Lestat. It didn't take long before he was your boyfriend, and you were bragging to your friends about the sex. After months of dating, he confided in you about a weird call from his former lover’s partner, revealing his identity afterward. Soon, he asked you to join him in darkness, and immediately you agreed.
However, looking back, you felt like an idiot, you should've stayed away when the adults told you about the strangeness of Lestat. The rumors of him not aging, only being seen at night. You couldn't see past his charming personality or handsome face, to realize he was trying to fill the void Louis left.
Walking through the French Quarter, you maneuvered through the crowd. You rolled your eyes at all of the tourists, especially since the writer, Daniel Molloy came out with his book, people were flocking to the city.
Going into a random bar, you sat down, your eyes scanning the menu. Alcohol didn't have much of an effect on you, only making you slightly tipsy, but it was something that made you feel human.
“I bought your drink, the least you could do is give me your number,” you heard the man next to you say rudely.
“What can I get for you?” the bartender asked.
“A pineapple martini,” you said, handing him your card.
“I didn't ask you to,” the girl argued.
“Listen, I didn't spend $20 on an overpriced daiquiri just because you're cute-
“And I told you, I didn't ask you to buy it,” she argued.
“Can you two take that elsewhere, I don't want to hear all of that, while I enjoy my drink,” you said, tapping the man’s shoulder.
“No one cares, and keep your hands off-
The man stood from his seat, lunging forward to grab you next, when you caught his arm, twisting it. You watched the man in satisfaction, thinking of how men hadn't changed, even in the 60s, 70s, 80s, and so on �� there were always the disgustingly perverted men.
“You don't know how to keep your hands to yourself, it’s gross, but it makes me feel less guilty for breaking your arm,” you said, shrugging before twisting his arm. He screamed in agony, holding his arm as he ran out of the bar, just as your martini was sat down, along with your card.
“Hey, thank you for that,” the woman started, as you sat down. By her accent alone, you knew she was a tourist.
“It was nothing,” you mumbled, twirling the little straw, focused on the drink.
“How did you do that? Do you take self defense classes?” she asked.
“No”
“Well, that was pretty impressive, I don't think I’ve ever seen-
“Lady, I just want to enjoy my drink-
Your eyes widened at the woman, she was perfect, she looked like Lestat, if he had been gender-swapped. Her blonde tresses were inches away from her waist, sky blue eyes, and full pink lips. Her bone structure was symmetrical, her straight teeth as white as milk. She dressed hyper feminine, wearing too much pink and white. You tried not to be weird, forcing your eyes to stop wandering, despite catching a glimpse of her toned body.
“I’m sorry, I know I can talk too much sometimes, sorry,” she apologized.
“You’re fine, I’m just in a shitty mood,” you shrugged.
“What’s wrong?”
“My partner is caught up on his ex, even though they broke up forever ago,” you admitted.
“Why do you hold on to him then?”
“Everything else is perfect about him, I can’t help but want to be loved by him,” you mumbled, thinking of Lestat. Since he revealed himself, he had been very busy, but when he wasn’t, his attention was on you. Waiting for him backstage, in the hotels, in his coffin, the quality time was incredibly intimate.
“If he’s as perfect as you claim, why are you here, obviously upset?” she asked, scooting closer.
“I don’t think I will ever come close to being loved as much as Louis,” you admitted, gulping down the pressure of the tears.
“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching to touch your hand.
“I will be fine, are you new to New Orleans?” You asked, staring at her hand laid against your own.
“Yes, I’m Lisa by the way, but I want to move here, I’ll be out here for a few weeks, maybe we can hang out, you could be my personal tour guide,” she said, briefly biting her lip. In her thoughts, she was hopeful, wanting more than to spend time with you. You seemed mysterious and she was dying to know why.
“Y/n, What did you want to do?”
“See historical landmarks, try local cuisines, hang out with you,” she said, leaning towards you.
“Me?”
“A woman as beautiful as you deserves all of the attention”
“I could say the same thing about you,” you smirked, remaining still as she leaned closer, allowing her to press her lips against your own.
As you moved closer, your phone dinged, making you reach into your pocket. Pulling away, you rolled your eyes as you stared at the coffin emoji, paired with a question mark.
“I have to go,” you told her, going to stand.
“Could I have your number, we could hang out sometime, if you're free,” she said, fidgeting. Smirking, you couldn't help but think of how much she looked like him, yet acted completely different.
Laughing, you unlocked your phone, handing it to her. After her number was saved, you were making your way to the townhouse. The sun could be seen coming into view, and just as you began opening the door, you could feel the heat burning against your skin.
“I thought you wouldn't be long,” Lestat said from the top of the stairs, as the door was shut.
“I wasn't”
“You left nearly two hours ago,” he said, following behind you, as you walked past him, up the stairs.
“And I’m home, did you want to argue more?” you asked him, rudely. He was stunned by your tone, but recovered quickly.
“No, I wanted you to return to me, in perfect condition,” he said, watching as you stripped from the clothing, holding your phone near.
“I’m okay, it will heal,” you told him, feeling his eyes on your lightly burned shoulder. You didn't say anything else, climbing into your coffin, and he couldn't admit your already different behavior left him feeling embarrassed.
Just as your eyes were about to shut, your phone lit up, as Lisa’s message appeared on the screen, asking if you made it home safely. Lestat stared at your coffin, hearing the sound of you typing, before slowly moving to his own.
“Sleep well, ma chérie”
“You too,” you said, hearing the sound of his coffin closing.
Lestat was confused by the way you were acting. This wasn't the first and most likely wouldn't be the last time you'd get into an argument, but this time seemed different. You'd leave and eventually come home, and he'd pick a fight, and just as you started to argue back, he would apologize for his actions and everything would fall into place.
Now, just two hours later you acted completely standoffish with him, as if you didn't want to be bothered. Was the argument that serious to you? You understood the love he held for Louis, but that it was best that they remained friends alone. He was with you, he had been all these years, he cared for you, he lo-.
Lestat didn't know how to express himself, arguing, being jealous, possessive, then ravishing you with gifts, that's all he knew. What he didn't realize was his failure to comfort and reassure you, not taking you seriously, you were pulling you away, as you began to desire your needs elsewhere.
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Immediately, Lestat could see the red flags going off, you were gone every night. Some nights before he even woke up, others you'd silently dress in front of him, before leaving. Even when he left for his music business, you always traveled with him, but now you had excuses.
He didn't want to follow you, but he had to, the jealous assumptions were beginning to pile up in his thoughts. Months, it had been months of you ignoring his presence. You’d look at him, hunt with him, and even talk with him if he wanted — but you weren’t putting your all into the relationship anymore. He was making the same mistake as he did with Louis. Choosing when the relationship could and couldn’t open.
He’d dabble in his different tastes regularly, no strings attached, usually killing the person after. You were different, the only way you’d have another person, was if Lestat was present. You weren’t as open to the idea of having others, and in a way, it satisfied Lestat knowing you would never sleep with another, or so he thought.
He had been following you, all the way to Gentilly, until you stopped at the unfamiliar house. His heart could have shattered, as he watched you through the window. The woman, you touched, touched in a way that was only meant for him.
He watched as you and this is unknown woman made love, his heart throbbing. The two of you, going on for what felt like hours, before you were both giggling, going into the bathroom. As the woman came out, grabbing a towel, Lestat was sure his dead heart would stop. This woman, she looked exactly like him, he couldn’t even say he looked better, because they resembled each other so much.
After your shared shower, you both plopped on the bed, holding each other. Your hearts full of passion towards each other.
“Y/n,” Lisa said, playing with your sharp nails.
“Hm?” You answered, your eyes closed. Her warm skin felt nice against your forever icy skin.
“I think I love you,” she said, making you open your eyes.
“What?” You asked, looking at her.
“I love you, I know it’s only been a few months, but that’s all I needed with you to know,” she said. You could feel the tears building up, as you pressed your lips against her own.
Staring at her, you could only see Lestat, the one who stole your heart all those years ago. No matter how idiotic you’re decision was, at the time. All you wanted was for him to declare his love for you, with his mouth.
“Say it again, please?” You asked her, as you pulled away.
“I love you,” she smiled brightly, smashing her lips into yours, as she pulled you back into a hug.
Lestat had tears pouring down his face, as he turned to leave. He didn’t think he could watch any more of whatever that was supposed to be. He couldn't take the idea of you being loving or being loved by another. All this started because of love, you claiming he didn't love you.
“Lisa, tell me you love me, once more,” you said, as you began to glamour her.
“I love you,” she exclaimed.
“No, you don't, you never met me, you won't recognize my face and you will never approach me, do you understand?” you asked her, watching as she silently nodded, you wiped the bloody tear from your eye, just as it escaped,
“Yes”
“You will sleep now, you're very tired,” you said, watching as she nodded, dozing off. She lay beautifully, as you covered her with the blanket. You couldn't replace him, even with the female doppelganger — especially with her. Lisa was a sweet girl, you didn't want to take away her life, revealing your nature, for your selfish reasons.
Leaving her home, you silently went back to your shared townhouse. It was quiet, Lestat already in his coffin, as you undressed.
“Good night,” you mumbled, getting into your coffin.
If this would be life, then you accepted it, second to Louis. You loved Lestat with every piece of your soul, so much that you could take not being loved, but being liked enough to be in his presence.
As the sun eventually left, you got up, dressing to go hunt. You found a random man, draining him in an alley, but as you made your way back home, your eyebrows furrowed. Entering the house, your eyes widened at the sight.
Exotic dancers, well over ten of them, all with wavy blonde hair and shades of blue eyes. A few of them were fawning at Lestat, but he paid none of them any kind of attention.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“For you, ma chérie, I’ll drain them, but I’ll let do whatever you please with them first,” he grinned.
“What are you talking about? Get them out, now,” you said, shrugging off a hand that was about to rub your shoulder. Watching as Lestat controlled them, sending them away, before he sat down, drained from the action.
“What is wrong with you? Bringing all of those women here? God, why don't you think,” you grumbled.
“I was just trying to appease your passions since they were more of your type, I mean, it only took a few months for you to find out,” he shrugged, making you realize he had been there.
“You can't be serious, you're such a creeper,” you laughed bitterly.
“For months, I’ve reached out to you, and you recoiled at my touch, just for me to find out you're having an affair with a woman, who looks too much like me”
“And how is that any different than what you've done?” you asked, crossing your arms.
“I heard you both, making love to her, kissing her, touching her the way that you do me. Texting her throughout the day, you're in love with her,” Lestat cried.
“I’m in love with you, but you love Louis. I can't replace him, so I wanted to replace you,” you said, turning to storm away, when he caught your hand.
“I will always love Louis but don't think that I don't love you. You are my wife, my companion, the one who saved me from myself. I don't want to see you with another, only me,” he confessed. His face was covered in blood from the tears pouring down his face.
“And you have me, but you have to say it, I know you show it in your own ways, but to hear it from your lips, would help me so much,” you told him.
“I love you, I love you, I love you. I know, I am a hypocrite, but end your affair, I can't take knowing you love another, I love you” he pouted.
“Fine, you won't have to worry about her,” you told him, as he moved closer to embrace you. Swiftly, he lifted you, holding you in his arms.
“Are we made up now?”
“Yes, love”
“I don't know how much I could take of that excruciating cycle of neglect,” he expressed.
“Lestat?” you said, as he sat down, having you straddle his lap.
“Yes, chérie?”
“Tell me again, tell me you love me,” you said, sighing in fulfillment as his arms wrapped around your body.
“I love you and I’ll say it as many times as you need”
355 notes · View notes
vinvantae · 6 months ago
Text
Enemies (occasionally to lovers) Scenarios with the current grid
with prompts from @koishua
Mostly angst with no resolution, but there’s a bit of fluff sprinkled throughout. Enjoy!
Thank you to @percervall for beta reading for me!! You’re a star ⭐️
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#1 Max Verstappen
The breeze was cool against your skin as you gripped the railing - looking down out over the city below, the music of the nightclub increased for a moment as someone joined you, before being muffled with a quiet click of the door. Your shoulders tensed, you knew exactly who it was - you’d come out here to escape him and he’d followed you.
“Go back inside, Max.” Your jaw clenched, but his footsteps continued until he was beside you, back leaning against the railing. “Didn’t you fucking hear me?”
“I did.” He hummed, arms folded across his chest.
“Then why are you still here?”
His silence caused you to snap your head to look at him, throw a glare in his direction - expecting the same look back. But his eyes were soft, gently flickering across your face - you watched as he swallowed heavily, daring to let his gaze fall to your lips.
Your voice was venomous when you spoke again. "Don't you dare look at me that way. Not now, after every vile thing we've done to each other."
“Listen…”
“No. You don’t get to do this, Max… it’s not fair,” you snapped, “You don’t get to bully me and talk shit about me and then all of a sudden decide you fancy me! We’re not little kids, you can’t grab me by the pigtails and push me down just because you have feelings. You should go.”
Every fibre of Max’s being wanted to protest, tell you that you were wrong - that he wanted to make things right between you, but your tear soaked cheeks were too much for him to handle. So instead he mumbled a quite sorry before leaving you alone with your thoughts. You let your face fall into your hands as you sobbed quietly - you’d always waited for the moment for Max to finally admit his feelings, you just never thought it would go like this.
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#2 Logan Sargeant
His head lifted from his phone as he heard a loud laugh from your side of the garage - your head tossed back as you smacked your engineer on the arm. Logan couldn’t help the way the corner of his mouth tugged up into a smile.
At the start of the season, he hated you. There was no denying it - he was jealous of how talented and likeable you were, how he was always compared to you. So he went out of his way to make you angry, make you scream at him - for just a second of your attention. But after his last DNF, you’d gone out of your way to check on him - give him soft words of encouragement and when your hand briefly ghosted his cheek to get his attention - he was smitten.
“Last time I checked, you guys were at each other’s throats,” a mechanic spoke up, “How come you’re sending heart eyes every time you see her now?”
He couldn’t help the way he blushed, just as you looked over at him - giving him a smile and a small wave. “You know what they say man, it’s a thin line.”
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#3 Daniel Ricciardo
You had to actively bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling as he talked - turning your head away so he couldn’t see your silent protest. He was smug and arrogant and didn’t deserve anyone else giving him the positive attention he so desperately craved.
“Hey, you’re allowed to laugh at my jokes, y’know.” He rolled his eyes, finally spotting you - your eyes fixated on the iPad in your hands.
“I would if they were funny,” you replied, not giving him the satisfaction of even sparing him a glance. You’d made it very clear from the day you met him that you weren’t going to fall for his shit like everyone else and Daniel hated it.
And he was desperate to win you over - he’d caught you smiling before, but you’d never admit it, much rather stomp on his ego - especially when he was already down.
"Fine, continue to act like you hate me," he teased, his dark eyes had a glint in them - throwing you a wink when you finally looked up from your work to roll your eyes. “I know the truth.”
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#4 Lando Norris
Lando was the happiest he’d ever felt, rushing towards his team with the biggest smile on his face - letting their cheers rush through his veins as he dove into their arms. He felt on top of the world and he thought there was nothing that could bring him down - until he was placed on his feet and saw you stood amongst the rest of the team.
He expected some scathing remark about how he’d not even done any overtaking to get the win or that the safety car was the reason but instead you gave him a bright smile.
“That was absolutely phenomenal, Lando. You raced amazingly. Your family, especially your grandma, are so proud of you - I just know it.”
You offered him your hand to shake but in the heat of the moment he wrapped you up in his arms - relishing in the way you didn’t even hesitate to reciprocate, your body fit perfectly against his. He never wanted to let go.
“This is a one-time thing only, don’t let me being nice to you get to your head,” you whispered, giving him one final squeeze.
He pulled back from the hug just enough to look into your eyes, smiling at the pure adoration on your face as you looked at him - your words meaningless. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
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#10 Pierre Gasly
There was something about you that irritated Pierre to no end - and he knew exactly what it was. He wasn’t dumb, he knew he was attractive enough to get pretty much any girl he wanted to fold for his attention but you. You would bat your eyelashes and flirt with all of his friends, but when he approached you’d tense up, face falling flat. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to offend you but he couldn’t get you out of his head.
“You’re incorrigible, Pierre,” you hummed nonchalantly, swirling your drink in your glass as his blue eyes followed the long legs of a girl as she waltzed past. “She’s way out of your league.”
"Fuck you."
“I’m flattered, really, but no thanks.”
He groaned and practically slammed his beer down on the counter. “Do you know what I think?”
“Enlighten me.” Your bored tone nearly tipped him over the edge but he held his ground, stepping closer to you - placing a hand over yours, finally getting you to look at him.
“You want me.” You went to protest, but found your breath catching in your throat as he lent in - his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “But you don’t want to be like the other girls… but trust me, you’d never be.”
You placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back - confusion ghosting his features. “I’m not that easy. Try harder… but, nice to feel wanted I suppose.”
He smiled, his heart skipping a beat as your walls finally began to crumble.
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#14 Fernando Alonso
You wanted to scream, throw things, punch a wall - but you couldn’t; you just had to sit there like a good little worker as they read off your schedule for the year. When you had been put forward for your promotion, you hadn’t been expected to be glued to Fernando’s side for every second of every weekend. He noticed your tension as you gathered up your things.
“If you clench your jaw any harder you’re going to break your teeth.” He tried to avoid having a tone, but his voice wasn’t friendly. “I’m not that bad.”
“There are only three things in this world I truly cannot stand,” you hissed, shoving your things into your bag, “You, you and you.”
Fernando frowned. “I don’t understand what you think I’ve done to you.”
“Of course you don’t, your head is too far up your own ass to remember,” you scoffed.
He pressed his hand against the door to stop you opening it, a frown etched into his face - he tilted his head a little. “Tell me what I did, let me fix it.”
You sighed softly, eyes meeting his. “On my very first day, I tried to talk to you and you shoulder barged me out of the way - not even looking back to apologise.”
“I-I… wow, yeah that’s not okay. I’m sorry.”
“You’re too late, Fernando. I can be professional with you but nothing more.” Your voice was small. “Please let me go.”
He stepped aside and held the door for you, watching you scurry away - his heart splintering, hating himself that all of this torment was his own doing. He had to make it right.
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#16 Charles Leclerc
You kicked your shoes off messily as the two of you stepped into the hotel - his lips barely leaving yours for a moment as he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor. He pressed you into the nearest wall and made quick work of your shirt - tossing it over his shoulder without a glance.
Your memory of how you ended up in the situation was hazy, the last thing you remembered was screaming at him for ruining your race - saying he didn’t deserve his podium and now you were desperate for him. Your well known distaste for Charles drowned in the alcohol you’d chugged to get over your disappointment.
The taste of champagne on his tongue was addicting, you could feel yourself being drawn further in as you clumsily worked at his shirt buttons - not wanting to break the kiss. A soft whine escaped your lips when he did just that.
“Your clumsiness never fails to amaze me,” he teased, finishing the job himself before taking your hand in his and dragging you towards the bed. “You’d trip over your own toes if they weren’t attached to your feet.”
With a gentle shove, you find yourself on the mattress - propped up on your elbows as he shimmies your skirt off of your hips. “I hate you, I hope you don’t forget that after tonight.”
As he pushes your thighs apart, a smirk on his face. “I think you’re going to be the one who struggles to remember that, Cherie.”
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#18 Lance Stroll
It was petty and you knew it - you had a shit car so getting points was usually a pipe dream but when you saw the dark green of his Aston Martin in front of you, it made your blood boil. Despite rarely fighting for points, the two of you were notorious for your on track battles - with more than one incident resulting in a DNF for one, if not both of you.
In the back of your mind, you knew he’d done nothing wrong, he was an okay driver but you were jealous that his seat was so secure because he had a father who loved him so dearly. You had to earn your spot and by god you weren’t going to let some pretty rich boy be better than you.
“There’s a thing called a brake. You can fucking use it, y’know,” he shouted, storming over to you as you climbed out of your car.
“Oh that was all you! There was literally no room. Why would you try and make a move there?”
The Marshalls tried to step between you, but he wasn’t having any of it - he crowded you right against the barrier - the visor of his helmet pushed up so you could see the rage in his dark eyes, his anger only slightly muffled by his helmet. “You just need to accept that you’re a shit driver.”
“I might not be the best, but like hell would I let you be better than me,” you spat.
He placed his hands either side of you - eyes now boring into your soul, as if he was trying to read you, but with your helmet still covering your face and cameras definitely all pointed in your direction, he simply took a step back. “We’ll finish this later.”
You swallowed heavily and nodded, finally letting the Marshalls lead you away…wait, finish what later?
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#20 Kevin Magnussen
You slouched into your chair as you were scolded once again for fighting with Kevin on the track - your teammate sat looking just as pissed off as you, his arms folded across his chest. The two of you had just never clicked, and at some point the apathy turned into anger - it felt like he went out of his way to ruin all of your races when you were supposed to be teammates.
The room fell quiet as the PR team slammed the door behind them, leaving the two of you alone with your thoughts. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, as this time the incident was your fault - you’d shoved him wide at the start and he’d fallen all the way to the back, unable to make up places. It surprised you when he was the one to speak up first.
“Why can’t we just let whatever this pointless rivalry is go?”
“…I can’t even remember how it started,” you said, your cheeks heating up. “Can you?”
He paused for a moment before laughing. “No, I can’t. I’ll try and be a better teammate to you, I swear I just… I don’t know, I like our fights.”
Kevin could’ve sworn his heart was in his throat when your eyes met his, your lips curved into a soft smile. “I do too, let’s just maybe keep them fair, yeah?”
“…yeah. Yeah I can do that.”
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#22 Yuki Tsunoda
Hate wasn’t a strong enough word for how Yuki felt about you - you were arrogant, smarmy and you looked at him like he was the dirt on the bottom of your shoe. You didn’t even consider him a rival, your car was leagues above his - but whenever you found yourself behind him after a pit stop, he suddenly had the widest car on the grid.
You’d got on the podium, like always, but that didn’t stop steam coming out of your ears as you approached him after the race. “Why do you race me so hard? Your fight isn’t with me… I could’ve won the race if you had an inkling of sportsmanship.”
He shrugged, taking a sip out of his bottle. “If you were as good as you said you were, I wouldn’t be a problem.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re infuriating. Stay in your lane, yeah?”
Yuki placed his bottle down on the nearby wall and began to pat his pockets before sighing dramatically. “Oops, it seems like I’m out of fucks to give.”
Your jaw was practically on the floor as he grabbed his drink and walked away, unable to help the smile on his face - he’d won this round.
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#23 Alex Albon
“Hey…”
You looked up from the spot on the floor you were staring at to see Alex standing over you, pity written all over his face. He sat on the ground beside you, bending one knee as you hugged yours to your chest. “What are you doing here?”
“Not sure, I came to see if you are alright, I guess.” He looked at you, noticing your reddened eyes and sniffling nose.
You frowned. “Why do you even care?”
“I may not like you, but I’m not heartless.” His voice was softer this time. “What that reporter said was over the line, the incident wasn’t even your fault.”
“Might want to pass that along to your best mate, he seems to think it was,” you sniffled, wiping your eyes before any more tears could spill. “…I don’t need you to feel sorry for me, Alex.”
“It don’t, I swear.” He held his hands up defensively, cracking a small smile. “It was a shit thing for them to say and I just want you to know that they’re wrong.”
You looked at him properly, eyes flickering across his features for even a hint that he was talking shit - but he genuinely looked concerned, so you gave him a gentle albeit slightly forced smile. “I’ll be okay, you can go back to being a dickhead.”
He rolled his eyes playfully, giving you a gentle shove on the shoulder making you laugh softly. “Says you… if you need a vent, I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”
“…thank you, genuinely,” you practically whispered.
You tensed up as he gave your knee a gentle squeeze before standing up, leaving you with your own thoughts - surprised at the affectionate gesture but unable to help the way you had enjoyed it.
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#24 Zhou Guanyu
He held his phone in his hands - Nico Hulkenberg to join Sauber in 2025 - but in whose seat? Carelessly, he tossed his phone onto the sofa and groaned into his hands. He knew he had the talent, he was capable, but Alfa Romeo-Sauber had just never given him the car to back him up.
“Hey, so they want you in the media pen in-“ You stopped talking when you saw his defeated stature - head in his hands. “You okay?”
When you were assigned to him as his PR manager at the start of the year, he was desperate for you to like him - but you quickly made it clear you were only here for the cheque. You were blunt, professional and didn’t like to waste a second being personal with him.
“You know about Hulkenberg?” His voice was quiet, refusing to meet your eyes.
You gently sat beside him on the sofa, tucking your notepad into your bag. “No… but I’m sure it’ll work out for you.”
“I don’t need your pity.”
“I know.” You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it was definitely pitiful. “But I need you to wipe the miserable look off of your face and get down to the pen. I’ve got work to do so… chin up or whatever. You’ve got 5 minutes.”
You didn’t even look at him as you left the room - reminding him that you just didn’t care.
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#31 Esteban Ocon
Your relationship with Esteban wasn't always strained - in fact, when you first met him, you genuinely enjoyed his company. But when he took it upon himself to push your attention to the side to make way for that of younger, prettier girls, you realised he was no different from the others and any positive feelings you had faded.
It definitely didn’t make your job any easier - more often than not, you would be checking your watch as he chatted away. You just wanted to knock some sense into him, remind him that he had a job to do.
“Got somewhere to be?” he practically snorted, as you checked your phone for what must have been the 10th time.
“No seriously, take your time,” you scowled, “Hell’s happy to wait for you, but waste another second of my time and it won't have to.”
He gave the girl he was chatting to a sideways look before finally following you - his hands shoved deep into his trouser pockets like a mopey teenager. You could see him considering conversation with you out of the corner of your eye but you tried to focus ahead - not giving him the time of day.
“What happened to us?” His voice was quiet, but you weren’t going to let him get away with it.
“You happened. You decided I wasn’t worth your time anymore, so I’m not going to let you waste mine,” you huffed.
You flinched as he took your bicep in his hand - making you look up at him with a face of what Esteban could only describe as disgust. He didn’t blame you for disliking him, but he could feel you really slipping away and he didn’t want that to happen.
He squeezed your arm, holding you far too close for comfort - his eyes boring into yours. “Can you just let me explain my side?”
You tore your arm from his grip, scowling even further. “Just leave me alone to do my job, Esteban or so help me god I’ll have them pair you with the shittiest intern for the rest of the season.”
He swallowed heavily and nodded - you weren’t expecting him to put up a fight, but still felt the same disappointment you swore you’d never let him make you feel again.
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#44 Lewis Hamilton
His hands felt like fire across your body, tracing every inch of your exposed skin as he hauled you in close - you had no idea how you got yourself in this predicament. The man in question was the bane of your existence - every second of the season was spent scrapping with him for the top spot - whether it was on or off track there was nothing but venom between the two of you.
So how you ended up with him in your apartment, hands pushing up the sides of your dress - you didn’t know but you couldn’t get enough. You groaned as his lips met the pulse point on your neck, fingers wound in the expensive fabric of his shirt.
You could feel him smirk against you as a moan escaped you. “God, I fucking hate you, Lewis.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes, really.”
He chuckled deeply, slotting his knee between your thighs to haul you in closer - pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, pupils blown with lust. Your breath hitched as his thumb brushed across your lip. “Lying doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.”
Before you could call him out, he pressed his lips against yours once again - strong hands cupping your face, allowing your knees to buckle a little. Your breath was stolen away as he pulled back, dark eyes flickering across your face for any more signs of protest, smirking when he saw none - you willingly let him guide you down onto your knees, hand cupping under your jaw - a smug smile on his face.
“Now,” he hummed, pressing his thumb between your lips to part them, “why don’t you be good… and use that mouth for something else instead. Hmm?”
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#55 Carlos Sainz
You were the last person Carlos expected to see when he opened the door to his apartment - any good person would ask if you were okay, but he simply smirked and leant against the doorframe.
“Shut up,” you scolded, pushing past him to step into his place, furiously wiping the tears away from your cheeks.
“Look who’s running back into my arms,” he cooed patronisingly, catching your jacket as you threw it at him. “I told you that I’m irresistible, didn't I?”
“Maybe that’s not why I’m here.”
Carlos chuckled darkly, tossing your jacket to the side so he could take your hips in his hands. “Hermosa, you were supposed to be on a date tonight but yet you’re here with me. I think that’s exactly why you are here.”
Your eyes were wet with tears when you finally met his gaze, but it didn’t even phase him as he slowly stepped you backwards - further into his place.
“So, tell me - what do you want?” He purred softly, brushing a thumb across your cheek to wipe away an escaped tear. “Need me to take care of you, hmm? Help you forget all about that idiot that wasted your time?”
You nodded, unable to speak as he hauled your shirt over your head when the two of you reached his bedroom.
“You sound pretty hot when you shut up, cariño,” he laughed, pushing you against the bed, “but I prefer the pretty noises you make when I have my way with you, let’s hear them.”
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#63 George Russell
You narrowed your eyes playfully at George as the two of you bickered about who would win in a fight between you and Roscoe. “He’s literally a dog, George. Who loves me, might I add.”
“Which is why he’d beat you. Because you’d go too easy on him,” he teased, his arm draped lazily across your shoulder - the two of you sat outside Mercedes hospitality together. “One look from those sad little eyes and you’d wave the white flag.”
He laughed softly as you jut out your bottom lip before leaning in to kiss you softly. George couldn’t believe his luck that not only you wanted to be seen with him but that you loved him. As kids, hell, up until your early 20s, the two of you were non-stop arguing - constantly having to be separated by your mutual friends. But it all changed when you witnessed the crash at Silverstone in ‘22; the way he leapt out of his car with no hesitation to try and help made your heart soar.
“You know…” you hummed softly, “I still don’t really know why I used to despise you.”
George smiled. “I genuinely don't remember. But, it got us here… and I’m quite happy here, aren’t you?”
It was your turn to kiss him. “Happier than I’ve ever been.”
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#77 Valtteri Bottas
Infuriated wasn’t a strong enough word for how you were feeling as Valtteri stood in front of you, practically red in the face as he scolded you for yet something else that wasn’t your fault. You weren’t sure why he disliked you, but from day one with Alfa Romeo, he’d treated you differently from everyone else.
But today, you’d had enough.
“That data could’ve helped me get some points for once, don’t you understand how important it is that-“
“The world could really use some of your famous silence right now,” you cut him off, not regretting it for a moment when you saw his jaw tick. “Have you maybe considered that getting that data… is not my job? Making sure you’ve got a clean kit is not my job. For god’s sake Valtteri, do you even know what my job is?”
His eyes widened. “You… you’re uh-“
“Exactly. So do me a favour, and just take a big fucking step back and reevaluate,” you hissed. “Because I’m out.”
“You’re out?” He frowned.
“I’m going to another team. Effective immediately, that’s what I came to tell you, so you won’t have to deal with my so-called incompetence anymore.”
Valterri just stared at you like he’d seen a ghost, and not willing to wait for anymore scathing comments - you turned on your heel and left, leaving the driver to question every single time he’d scolded you.
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#81 Oscar Piastri
You lay in the medical centre, bright fluorescent lights certainly not helping your headache. It wasn’t a big crash, but you’d still ended up with a nasty case of whiplash - your ears still ringing. As the door swung open, you expected to see the medic, ready to let you go home, but it was in fact Oscar… holding flowers?
“Any time something bad happens to me, you’ve always been there,” he spoke, no anger in his voice - in fact, it almost seemed teasing. “Are you cursing me or something?”
“Not my fault you’re always in my way,” you replied, surprising both Oscar and yourself when you matched his tone. “Flowers?”
“Uh… yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “It looked like a pretty nasty ding you took out there, so I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
Oscar’s heart raced with anticipation as you took the bouquet from him, just waiting for you to throw them back in his face. For some reason, despite being the most chilled driver on track, you really got under his skin - and, he hated the cliche of it, but seeing you struggle to get out of your car made him realise - it wasn’t hatred, he had feelings.
"They’re lovely, thank you.” You smiled, genuinely smiled at him. “Are you doing alright?”
He waved off your concern. “Yeah, I’m fine. I think you took the worst of it… say, uhm, can I take you out to dinner to apologise?”
You tilted your head. “You’re actually taking the blame for the crash? Oscar-“
“Please.”
You bit your lip, letting yourself study his face for a moment - his usual calm expression was replaced with something you didn’t recognise. “Yeah, okay, I’d like that.”
His smile alone was worth it - you don’t think you’d ever seen it directed at you, and it felt good.
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Hope you enjoyed 🥰
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planetception · 5 months ago
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Pain and Heartbreak - Paige Bueckers
My first ever fanfic! Sorry if it sounds bad, I'm just getting back into writing. Hope you guys enjoy!
Summary: Paige yells at you for being too clingy while Kk is on a live
Cw: Asshole Paige, hurt and no comfort, mentions of past verbal abusive relationship
pt 2
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You always believed that Paige was okay with your clinginess. She never showed any signs of annoyance or discomfort when you sat on her lap or buried your face in her neck during emotional moments. You were convinced she didn't mind your constant attachment, except when she had practice. Even then, she would call you whenever she had the chance, just to check on you and see how you were doing. You thought Paige was the most caring girlfriend, until she wasn't.
Things came to a crashing point one night when Kk decided to do a late night live. You had just returned to the dorm Kk and Paige shared, feeling exhausted and yearning for Paige’s warm embrace. As you walked in, you quickly greet Kk and the live audience before heading straight to Paige’s room. Opening the door quietly, you saw your girlfriend with her ipad propped up on her nightstand as she was half asleep. Giggling to yourself as you changed into more comfortable clothes before snuggling up to a sleepy Paige, your face found its usual spot buried in Paige’s neck, but when you did that she pushed you off of her.
“Not now Y/n.” She told you in a monotone voice as she got off the bed and headed out to the living room. You looked visibly hurt as you watched your girlfriend leave you all alone in her bed. Seconds later, you could hear Paige and Kk entertain the live as the audience asked questions and such. Once again you felt hurt as she was acting more like herself on the live than she was with you minutes ago. Shortly Paige comes back and immediately sighs as she sees that you’re still awake. “You’re still awake?” She asks monotonously, her blue eyes piercing into yours. You just nodded as she crawled into bed next to you, when you tried to cuddle with her, she once again pushed you right off of her. Now it was your turn to get annoyed by her actions as you sat up in her bed. “What’s gotten into you recently?” You asked her as she rolled her eyes at you. “What??” She sounds offended, “Nothing has gotten into me ok? I’m tired as hell and I want to go to bed. Is that so hard to understand?” Now she’s starting to talk to you like a child.
You just stared at her, feeling a sharp sting of hurt and embarrassment. It was as if you were a child being scolded by a parent. Paige, clearly exasperated, rolled her eyes and turned away from you in bed, her back a cold, unyielding wall.
“Pai-” You tried to get out before she cut you off immediately.
“Would you leave me the fuck alone!? God you’re so fucking clingy and shit, fucking pissing me off every goddamn day!” She screamed at you.
You just stared at her as tears began falling down your face. You knew that the live heard Paige just scream at you for being too clingy. Paige just looked at you with an annoyed expression and just belittled you even more.
“Great. Now you’re fucking crying. This is why she left you isn’t it Y/n? She probably got sick of your constant whining and pathetic neediness every second didn't she?”
At this point, tears were streaming down your face at an uncontrollable pace. You jumped out of Paige’s bed, hastily grabbing your belongings before bolting out of her room. You ran past Kk, who was frantically trying to apologize to her live audience for the yelling before quickly ending the stream. She knew immediately that people would be talking about this incident by morning and that Geno was bound to hear about it.
You walked down the street, replaying Paige’s hurtful words over and over again in your mind. Tears were still streaming down your face, leaving a salty trail on your cheeks, as your phone kept blowing up, you don’t even want to look at it right now. You knew that it was probably Kk asking if you were okay, or it was the media spreading the clip of the yelling around.
Eventually you reached your apartment. Walking inside you threw your phone onto the couch as you toppled to the ground sobbing uncontrollably. Paige never yelled at you like that before. She knew how your last girlfriend constantly berated you for the smallest things. This betrayal from Paige felt like a hot knife twisting in your heart, each tear a testament to the pain you thought you had escaped from.
You ended up falling asleep on the floor that night, exhaustion and sorrow overtaking you. When you woke up you reached for your phone with shaky and took a deep breath before checking your notifications. You had around 15 texts in total, most of them came from Kk, a few from both Nika and Azzi, and surprisingly none from Paige. The absence of her name felt like a fresh wound. The next thing you checked was twitter, the video of Paige screaming at you in the background of Kk’s live was all on your timeline. Most people were sympathizing with you, condemning Paige’s actions, while some people praised Kk for her handling of the situation.
The next thing you saw made your jaw drop, it was a statement from Paige’s twitter account. Her statement gave you mixed emotions, it was like she didn’t even feel sorry for what she did and that made your heart break even more.
“Hi this is Paige Bueckers and I wanted to deeply apologize for my actions that were heard in a live last night. This does not reflect how I am as a person and I am genuinely sorry for any commotion that was caused last night. While what I said may be seen as hurtful to some, but put yourself in my shoes in that instant and you would blow up too-”
You couldn’t even finish reading it before you threw your phone across the living room collapsing into tears once more. That marked the heartbreaking end of your and Paige’s relationship, leaving you with a sense of despair. After enduring two devastating experiences that ended in such familiar fashion, you swore off dating all together.
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anathemaspeaks · 7 months ago
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come and get your love
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character(s): gojo satoru synopsis: the one in which your best friend needs only one thing - you. or; the three times he's wanted you, and the one time he got you. word count: 4k warning(s): smut a/n: ALL DAY ALL NIGHT NO LUBE NO PROTECTION PLEASE requests are open <3 likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated!
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you and gojo satoru were neighbors.
that was how you met in the first place - you were walking home from college, your new dior perfume (which cost a kidney and a half) in one hand, and dinner in the other. you were walking across the corridor-
crash!
a 6"3 blur of white just ran past you, bumping into you and yelling a "sorry!" and muttering something about cursing someone. perfume bottle now in pieces and on the floor, you were pissed, but he was long gone. asshole.
that was the blur you came to know as satoru. while you were eating dinner, satoru had showed up at your door with a bottle of the exact same perfume - not smushed this time. well, maybe he wasn't so bad.
you invited in the handsome stranger to thank him, and asked if he wanted to eat anything. he was about to refuse, until he saw the untouched chocolate cake lying in your kitchen. who could say no to that?
and that was the beginning of your friendship.
that was the first and last time he wasn't a constant pain in your ass. now, he was your self-declared best friend and it's been almost a year since you both first met, and you enjoyed his company a lot more than you'd ever admit.
in more ways than one, too.
the first time:
in this year you'd also discovered something. well, watched it unfold, really. some smartass (read: geto) decided to give satoru an ipad for his birthday.
safe to say, he was addicted to it within a day.
he became an actual ipad kid. everytime he came over he'd have his ipad out, playing games or watching something. why he couldn't just use a normal phone or laptop like a normal person was beyond you. and he never went anywhere without it. he even took it to college.
well, he did just get an ipad, so you could sort of understand it. but still. weirdo.
you both were both going out to a club tonight with all of your friends. you'd finished doing your hair, and you were almost done with your makeup. you still had to wear your dress. you'd decided to go with a sleeveless blue corset dress that reached mid-thigh.
you were done pre-gaming, if you drank anymore, you weren't going to get through the night. you were applying your lip liner, when you heard a knock on the door. knowing exactly who it was, you went to open it.
the second you opened the door, you slammed it shut. he looked good - he was wearing a white shirt rolled up to his forearms, with the top two buttons undone, and black pants. but that wasn't the problem.
he was wearing a bright blue backpack. a fucking backpack. and you knew exactly what was in it. you had to mentally prepare yourself before you talked him out of it.
"satoru, either you leave the bag or you're not coming."
"but-"
"no, you can't carry an ipad with you to a club."
"okay okay, i'll..." he paused, his eyes moving lower, followed by silence.
"well?" you asked, breaking the pause.
"...that dress looks really good on you" he said, voice a bit breathier than normal.
"what?" you asked, cheeks now dusted pink.
suddenly, he moved closer and leaned down right next to your ear, voice just above a murmur. "i said, that dress looks incredible on you," he glanced down again, raking his eyes over your form, eyes lingering a beat too long on your curves.
"though, i think it would look even better on my bedroom floor"
your visibly choked. was he finally making a bolder move on you, one that isn't a really cheesy pick-up line, or a failed attempt at flirting? fuck.
"i think you've pre-gamed a little too hard, satoru," you whispered, the heat in your cheeks betraying you, a warmth slowly spreading through your body just by looking at him. he was gorgeous.
he pouted at that, and you almost gave in. his pretty blue eyes wide with hope, and his pouty lips practically begging you to kiss the frown away.
and you don't know whether you were drunk on the alcohol or on your proximity to the god of a man in front of you, but you found yourself thinking about what it would feel like to really kiss his plump lips.
"i'm not drunk!" he protested.
"i know, 'toru, but we've gotta go, come on." it was probably just him being delirious, but you couldn't help the butterflies in your stomach.
but then, at the club, he didn't leave your side on the dance floor even once. he was so close you could feel his body heat, eyes locked in a silent conversation. it sent a delicious shiver down your spine.
as he dropped you off, with his voice an octave deeper, he said, "you should wear blue more often."
then, he straightened up and went into his house like it was nothing, a stupid smirk on his face.
collapsing onto the couch, you buried your face in a pillow, the scent of his cologne still lingering on your dress, infiltrating your senses. sleep wouldn't come. all you could see were his stormy blue eyes, filled with unspoken desire - one you tried denying you felt for him too, until today.
why was he so irresistible?
a muted scream found its way out of your mouth, muffled by the pillow, a delicious mix of frustration and something far more needy. damn him and those strong shoulders that seemed to stretch on forever beneath his thin white shirt, the poor fabric straining against his biceps with every movement.
and his face? his lips, so full and slightly parted, an invitation for you to kiss them, the moonlight casting a sinful glow on the way his jaw clenched with unspoken desire all night long. you swore he was a walking sculpture come to life, every line and angle sculpted by the gods themselves.
now, satoru knew he wanted you since the day he met you. your angry pout, yet somehow kind eyes had him falling hook, line and sinker. but this was different. he had never felt a longing this deep, and only you brought out that side of him.
it drove him insane.
his hands on your waist all night, lips only a few inches away from each other, that fucking dress that took his breath away - it felt so intoxicating.
things were going to change between the both of you for the better, he hoped.
the second time:
it had been a week since that night, and now you both were attending suguru's 21st birthday party. you were all going to stay at an expensive hotel in las vegas for the whole weekend.
god, you loved being friends with rich people.
it was three people per room, and you were all to be assigned your rooms by the birthday boy himself. you read the text he sent. you were paired up with shoko... and satoru.
you could already tell this was going to be a long weekend.
the roar of the plane engines on the way there served as a backdrop for the girls' chatter - you included. every few seconds your gaze would flicker to him, seemingly engrossed in his ipad. but his scorching glances that lingered a beat too long told you it was a blatant lie.
he was watching you. watching with an intensity that almost made you fold in half, and made you feel your heartbeat in your throat. every laugh, every word you said, you knew he was looking. at you.
when the plane finally touched down in vegas, the desert heat slapped you in the face.
a wave of relief washed over you when you finally reached the hotel lobby. this place was huge. as you finished unpacking and settling into the room, shoko decided she wanted to leave and explore the hotel.
"you coming?" she asked both of you.
"be right there!" you replied. you still needed to fix up your outfit and makeup. now the only ones in the room were you and satoru, who claimed he had to freshen up.
as you applied your mascara, you felt his warm hand right above the waistband of your jeans, fingers barely brushing past your hips, the touch alone sending a heat through you.
but then he straightened up, the moment ending too soon for you liking. fucking tease.
"sorry!" he said, batting his long eyelashes at you and acting oh-so-innocent. he didn't know what he just started.
the rest of the afternoon was a blur. you all unpacked, shared stories and spent the entire day lounging around. as the sun set, you went to change your clothes into something more fitting for the casino.
you picked a short, black dress this time, neckline dipping just a little bit too low, knowing he'd be looking at you. the dress clung to you like a second skin. you were a sight to see in that outfit - maybe it was even better than your last one.
you ended up at the bar, the air thick with the mingled scent of expensive liquor and something far more exhilarating. just then, a rather handsome man approached you, his voice smooth and deep. he asked you if you would like a drink.
you decided to have a little fun and play along, enjoying the blatant display of interest - but you were very aware of satoru's gaze burning into you. his jaw was clenched tight, eyes narrowed a fraction. his stare was so intense it sent chills down your spine.
you took a sip of your drink, eyes meeting satoru's across the room. a slow smile spread across your lips, he definitely wouldn't back down now. not when you looked that divine. not when you had that scum talking to you - an absolute goddess.
you continued sipping your drink and listening to the man's attempt at smooth talking you. you decided you'd had enough for now, so you excused myself and headed towards the ground floor balcony. you didn't have to look back to know satoru was following you.
the cool desert air on the balcony offered a welcome respite. the real thrill came in the form of satoru, appearing beside you. he looked amazing, navy blue suit doing nothing to hide his body. you were positive he wasn't real.
"need some fresh air?" he asked, clearly trying to act nonchalant.
"oh, something like that" you replied, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "maybe i just needed a moment to appreciate the view... besides the one inside, you know."
he grinned a bit mockingly, tilting his head and leaning down so that he could look directly into your eyes from above his sunglasses, "don't think i haven't noticed what you're up to" he said, voice husky.
a warmth flared through you, and a barely concealed smile of triumph found its way onto your face. mission accomplished.
"god, that dress is making it impossible to breathe, impossible to think of anything else but you. makes me wanna forget this whole damn night and just..." he trails off, gaze flickering to your lips, then back to your eyes.
fuck it, he won.
you leaned in closer, the distance between your lips shrinking with every passing second. this was it. you were so close, your lips inches away from-
"there you two are. everyone's looking for you, let's go dance."
your softly sighed in frustration. satoru straightened up, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features before they returned to his normal overly happy ones.
"didn't know you were looking for us! let's go," he replied.
you grabbed shoko's arm and went to the dance floor, thoughts of satoru and how he was so close to you, how he almost had his lips on yours on your mind as you tried to dance the night away.
the rest of the weekend unfolded in a blur of flashing lights and pounding music. you were in a group, inseparable yet frustratingly apart. every stolen touch, every lingering look, felt like a secret whispered in a crowded room.
but in the end, the chance for a private conversation never came again. this had to be some cruel joke.
the third time:
two weeks after the party, you all met up at shoko's house. you left to go upstairs and find the bathroom. when you came back down, everyone had started a water fight in the backyard.
you left them alone for two minutes.
you walked out, only to get drenched from head to toe almost instantly. you were going to kill suguru for soaking your new gray shirt, which was now see through.
you spotted satoru amidst everyone, his stare locked onto your chest. you were wearing sky blue lingerie. it was a blatant stare - raw, and hungry. it gave you goosebumps. it wasn't planned, but god, you were glad it happened.
you set a mental reminder to thank geto.
before you could do anything, his eyes shifted back up, meeting yours. a flicker of apology danced in his gaze, quickly overshadowed by something much deeper.
suddenly remembering where you are, you sneakily grabbed the nearest water balloon, a mischievous glint in your eyes. you aimed square at his torso. the balloon hit satoru's chest with a loud slap!
if your shirt was soaked, it was only fair that his was too, right? now he was completely wet. bull's eye.
he sputtered, the shock quickly giving way to a wide, mischievous grin. water dripped down his face, tracing a path along the sharp line of his jaw and disappearing down his neck to his abs.
oh. his abs. the sight alone drenched you in a place where the water balloon didn't. he shook himself off with a laugh, raising his hands in surrender and unintentionally flexing his biceps. oh wow.
was he trying to kill you?
this time, though, his eyes remained fixed on yours with a look that almost had you fighting for air. you both continued to drown each other, competing to see who caused the most damage, taking any chance to get closer.
as the sun started to set, you all started leaving. you and satoru said your goodbyes to shoko and started walking towards the car, talking about how fun the day was.
you stole a glance at satoru. fuck.
his drenched t-shirt clung to his broad frame, outlining the way his muscles flexed with every step. your cheeks burned at the memory of his stare, the way his gaze had lingered on your tits, making your face heat up.
"think you'll survive the drive home like that, princess? i did do some damage, you know," he teasingly asked, amusement evident in his voice.
"oh i will, don't you worry princess," you replied. "just more proof that i completely demolished your snow white ass." he laughed at that, smile making him glow even more in the golden hour lighting.
you both continued bantering until you reached the basement and he parked the car.
you were walking towards your apartment. you tilted your head up, a shine in your eyes. "so," you started, "what do you say we call a truce until next time? and then winner takes it all."
a slow smile spread across his face.
"truce it is" he conceded, "but winner gets any prize of their choice," he said with a slight smirk.
he leaned in ever so slightly, his lips hovering a tantalizing distance from yours. the scent of his cologne, somehow still present, invaded your senses completely.
"oh? and how do you propose we decide this prize?" you asked, indulging him.
he chuckled, the pretty sound ringing in your ears. "let's just say," he leaned in again, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek again, "i have a few ideas in mind."
you slowly tilted your head upwards and batted your eyelashes, leaning into him before saying "mm, goodnight, 'toru." you let your gaze shift to his full lips before meeting his eyes.
but you pulled away before he could make a move. you relished in the look on his face - like a man starved, eyes filled with a desperate need. for you.
you played off your own need for him with a teasing, innocent smile as you entered your apartment. you needed him. fast.
the fourth time:
satoru was a mess. the usual carefree, playful glint in his eyes was replaced by sadness, his usual smile replaced by a deep pout. he was draped in a giant, fuzzy blanket, clutching a tub of ice cream like a lifeline.
the culprit? a broken ipad.
how he managed to break it beyond repair was quite impressive, actually.
'good riddance,' you thought, thinking about his avid screen addiction.
but the sight of him trudging around your apartment like a kicked puppy, a half-eaten tub of ice cream clutched in one hand and a giant blanket draped over his broad shoulders - you almost felt bad.
you turned on the tv, hoping to distract him, but the suggestion was met with a watery glare and a choked sob. "it's not the same," he moaned, his voice thick with despair, "nothing can make me forget about my broken heart," he sighed.
what a drama queen.
you stifled a smile, the jab dying on your tongue. this wasn't like satoru. this was a whole new level of gloominess. it was kind of adorable, actually. he slumped onto the couch, sitting next to you, the oversized blanket engulfing him like a cocoon of misery.
hesitantly, you reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. his skin was warm beneath your touch, and his eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were clouded with a vulnerability you would never guess was caused by an ipad of all things.
"maybe you need a different kind of distraction," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. you felt bold.
he turned towards you, gaze locking onto yours. you swore you saw a hint of something other than vulnerability - something that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter. the air hung heavy with the weight of what you said.
neither of you moved, still maintaining eye contact.
"you sure about what you're asking for?" he asked softly, already leaning in towards you.
your gaze flickered from his perfect lips, full and inviting, to the hint of stubble darkening his jawline. every fiber of your being yearned to bridge the gap, to kiss him like you needed to.
"positive," you breathed, neediness evident in your tone.
the space between you vanished in a blink. he leaned in, breath warm against your lips as he filled up the space between you. one hand cupped your cheek, touch surprisingly gentle in contrast to the primal need in his eyes.
his lips met yours with a hunger that stole your breath away, the taste of him a delicious combination of cookie dough from the ice cream, and something else, something so... satoru.
his hand on your face deepened its hold, his thumb tracing a path down your jawline in a slow, deliberate caress. you mirrored the movement, fingers tangling themselves in the soft fabric of his t-shirt, desperate to feel the solid warmth of his body against yours.
the kiss deepened, a tangle of limbs and breathless gasps. his hand moved lower, the thin fabric of your shirt allowing you to feel the searing heat of his palm on your back, his lips moving perfectly against yours
your breath hitched as his hand went under your shirt to grip your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.
as much as you wanted to continue, the heat pooling in your lower stomach became harder and harder to ignore with every passing second.
you broke apart from the kiss reluctantly, a string of saliva connecting you both.
"bedroom" you demanded, not wanting to spend another second without his lips on yours. you closed the gap between you both, desperate to taste him again. you felt his arm hook under your thighs as he lifted you up, never once breaking the kiss, the other hand remaining on your jaw, picking you up like it was nothing.
he pressed you up against every wall on the way to the room, lips practically devouring you. your nails dug into the muscles of his back from under his shirt, urging him closer, closer. you were definitely going to leave marks, ones that he would wear proudly.
he chuckled in pride at the thought of that, a low rumble against your lips that made your skin tingle, before pulling back just enough to trail a searing kiss down your jawline. he nipped at your neck before biting it. hard. he continued until he was positive you would see them for the rest of the week.
you felt his cock growing under you. your breath hitched in excitement as his lips dipped lower, sending shivers dancing across the exposed skin of your shoulders. and finally, you reached your room.
you were a trembling mess, body aching in anticipation and need for him, panties so soaked you were sure he could feel it.
in the dim light of the moon filtering through the window, he looked like an angel - chest heaving, lips swollen from all the kissing, eyes almost black with desire - all for you.
he placed you onto the bed, getting up to take off his shirt. you let your eyes wander, drinking in the sight of him. he was heavenly. toned muscles glistening with a light sheen of sweat from the heat, hair disheveled from you running your hands through it and tugging at it.
you sat up to take your shirt off as well, but he interjected. "let me," he whispered, "been waiting for this for so long, fuck."
he stared at you, now fully naked underneath him. hair spread out on your pillow, lips still wet from his hungry kisses, eyes focused only on him. he was convinced this moment wasn't real.
he took off his shorts and boxers, and-
oh fuck. he was huge, and just as pretty as the rest of him. veins ran up and down the length of his throbbing cock, tip flushed pink - almost red, and leaking pre-cum.
"you did that to me, babygirl" he said, noticing your gaze.
you had to taste him. as you reached out, he stopped you. "i'd love that, but not today," he choked out, voice deep and filled with desperation.
"if i'm not inside you within the next minute, i might actually lose my mind," he groaned, large, calloused hands spreading your thighs apart.
the last of your resolve crumbling, "then fuck me, 'toru, please, need you s'bad" you whined, pulling him down into a searing kiss.
he lined up with your entrance, pushing in just the tip. you felt stretched out already. "'s too big" you cried out. "aw, you can take it pretty girl," he cooed. he was barely inside but it just felt so good. you needed more, more satoru.
you bucked your hips up a little pleading for more. taking the message, he bottomed out in a single thrust, causing you to moan his name. "shit baby. keep saying my name like that and i'm not gonna last long" he grunted, pulling almost fully out of you.
your mind was consumed with only him. satoru, satoru, satoru - fuck, you couldn't get enough. he was practically splitting you in half with his cock, but you took it like a good girl. his good girl.
"fuck, you're takin' me so well. god, look at you, such a good girl f'me, my perfect girl" you reveled in the praise, mind almost numb from how well he was fucking you, cock drilling into your dripping cunt like a man deprived.
"y'know how long i've waited for this? to have you all spread out f'me? oh, you're such a damn tease, doll. you knew exactly what you were doing, huh? wearin' that damn blue dress, and blue lingerie f'me too? what a slut."
his words sent a heat flooding through you - warm, plush walls clamping down on him, moans and whines ripping from your throat, so cock drunk all you could say was his name like a prayer, over and over again.
"mm, y-you weren't so innocent either, y'know" you bit back, whines escaping your throat. god, he loved that mouth of yours.
"shit, wanted you since i first met you, baby. you drive me fuckin' insane" he choked out, voice getting raspier. he was a vision. muscles flexing so deliciously with every thrust of his hips, teeth biting on his lip as he moaned out your name, eyes looking only at you.
fuck, he really was perfect. he leaned down to kiss you again, a large hand finding its way to your tits. he caressed it, playing with your nipple while fucking you.
you were so painfully close.
his balls slapped against your ass, cock pushing into you with a force only he could possess. you loved the feeling of how right he felt inside you, the squelching sound of your pussy fluttering around him as he relentlessly thrust into you driving you both to the edge.
"s'toru i'm- 'm gonna- hngh" you clenched down on him impossibly tighter as you came. he came after a few more thrusts, release mixing with yours and seeping down onto your now very stained sheets.
he collapsed down next to you, an arm around your waist, pulling you to face him.
it was such a stark contrast - two minutes ago he was fucking you like there was no tomorrow, and now here he was, looking at you with a dopey smile on his face and a shine in his bright blue irises.
you couldn't help but grin back. you stayed like that until you caught your breaths, heartbeats slowly returning back to normal.
"so, since the day you first met me, huh?" you asked, a playful smile finding its way onto your face. you were met with a blush of embarrassment spreading across his cheeks. only satoru could go from the epitome of a sex god to a flustered mess within two minutes.
"been obsessed with you since i first saw that look on your face when i broke your expensive perfume. that was hot. but then, i got to know you better, and you were so sweet and funny and so goddamn pretty and i- i just couldn't help but... you know." he admitted, eyes averting from yours.
he said it with the demeanor of a man who wasn't fucking your brains out a minute ago.
you gripped his jaw, making him look at you again. and then you kissed him - a soft, tender one, pouring in all of your emotions. you wanted him to know you reciprocated his emotions.
"good, because i felt the same way 'toru" you smiled against his lips.
"well what took you so long then?"
"what took me so long? what about you?"
"you're the one who liked me," he replied, as if it was oh-so-obvious.
"well you liked me first satoru!" you sassed, trying to turn away from him.
he pulled you back, arms wrapping around your middle and made you face him again, grip on your waist never faltering.
"so, round two?"
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bonus points if you can guess where the title's from
the ipad kid part is kinda random but i totally think he'd be one so 😭
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certifiedbueckethead · 5 months ago
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Study Break ✧.*
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paige bueckers x college student! reader
warnings: making out, public sex (very much so), fingering, throat fucking,
word count: 1.6k
a/n: honestly one of my shorter ffs but it is what it is lol, also this is just a song rec but it’s also kind of similar to the plot I guess. It’s one of my favs
You stare out of the library’s window, tapping your pen to the table. Summer school just brings another level of boredom, you are dying to go outside and lay in the grass with your friends. It was golden hour, and everything just looked prettier outside. “Y/n, I brought you your iced coffee.”, your best friend Clara had said to you, snapping you out of your daze.
You are both studying for the first session of summer school finals, and have been taking turns bringing each other drinks. Whether it was red bull, coffee, monster or highly caffeinated tea, you both were locking in this entire week. Sure, your digestive systems were suffering the consequences, you just needed to finish off this session strong. You sip your coffee and flip through your digital flashcards when you were interrupted.
“Hey, uh the library is super packed here and you both have an extra two seats at your table, is it chill if we sit here?”, said an extremely tall blonde woman stood in front of you. She was wearing a white crop top and some cargo pants with her iPad in hand, and standing behind her was another girl you didn’t know. They looked familiar but you couldn’t put your finger on it.
“No, yeah of course you can sit, we don’t mind.”, Clara said, because you just were staring up at the girl who had asked you. You couldn’t help it, you felt drawn to her pretty blue eyes. You nod aggressively, now embarrassed at the fact that your friend had to answer for you. “Yeah-, yeah of course, I’m sorry.”, you start, motioning to the empty energy drinks in front of you. “My mind is definitely somewhere else today, sorry about that.”, you continue to defend yourself.
“Nah, you’re good ma don’t worry about it. Thanks.”, is all the blonde says to you. You couldn’t help but to sneak a few glances at her. You felt your phone buzz, and you check it.
**Clara Bear**
are you gonna study for organic chem or are you going to continue to stare at Paige Bueckers?
I get it’s pride month, but its also FINALS?
That’s when you realized, they were basketball players at your school. You internally face palm, Paige must think you’re just another one of her fans. You look up at her, and catch her eyes this time.
“So, girl who keeps looking over at me. What’s your name?”, Paige says, keeping her voice low and pushing her chair closer to you, since you are in the library. “Ah, it’s Y/n.”, you say, avoiding her gaze. “Does Y/n know my name perhaps?”, she says, closing your laptop - trying to get your full attention. “Mhm, it’s Paige, you play basketball don’t you?”, you say back, trying not to seem like a fan. It’s not like you were, you didn’t even know her until Clara texted you, you’ve seen her in ads and stuff at your university but nothing like being her fan.
“So uh, me and Y/n will be back. Study break things.”, Paige says, back to her friend and Clara. Clara gives you a look, one that says “don’t get into any trouble” before blowing you a kiss. You scrunch your face and flip her off, giggling. Your best friend knows you too much.
After following Paige out of the library and onto a hill in the field outside, you are finally able to breathe. The air has gotten crisp since the sun is going down, and you take a picture of the sky to capture the moment. Paige is quiet, also enjoying the fresh air. Before you know it, Paige pulls you onto the ground with her and the two of you roll down the hill together. It was calming almost, to have such a release, you felt all the stress that has built up these past few weeks from school leave your body as you laugh along with Paige. When you reach the bottom of the hill, you were laying in the grass, inches away from her face.
Paige’s blue eyes looked back into yours, before looking down at your lips and back to your eyes. Your breathing shortens, you’ve never even been this close to a girl before. Yes, you know you’re as gay as it comes but doesn’t mean you have had any experience. You spent all your time either studying or with your best friend, too scared to venture into the world of dating more or less kissing pretty girls you’ve just met. But you give in, give into the space between the two of you and your heart is beating out of your chest as Paige connects her lips with yours. The sky is a deep pink and purple colour as the sun sets, and Paige snakes her arm around your waist, under your shirt. You find it difficult to stop, to remove your lips from hers. She pulls away, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips together still. She doesn’t stop smiling at you and move, straddling her whilst she is still laying down in the grass and kiss her again. Between kisses, you ask, “this okay?”, and Paige reaches up and holds the side of your face, pulling you as close to her as she can.
Before you know it, Paige is holding your hand and dragging you back into the library, but into the top floor, the farthest set of bookshelves from the door. She pushes you against the bookshelf and begins to kiss your neck. Her hand glides under your shirt, against your stomach and soon finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it easily. Like she’s done it a million of times. Her lips don’t leave your collarbones and Paige lifts your up onto the ledge in front of the window. Your back presses against the glass and your legs wrap around her torso, pulling her close into you. From the smell of her perfume and the taste of her sweet sweet lip gloss, you can’t help but take everything in. Paige undoes her ponytail, letting her hair fall down onto her shoulders and looks down at you. “You haven’t had much to say ma, is this alright with you?”, she asks you, gently. You nod, knowing that whatever is about to happen is what you want. Looking up at her, you bring your hand to the back of her neck and she kisses you with as much desperation as you have. She separates you, only for a moment to replace her lips that were against with yours with two of her fingers.
You suck against them, the two long digits she has in your mouth, looking into her eyes. You can’t help but bring your hand down and rub your clit through your shorts. You moan against her fingers and she uses her free hand to move your hand that’s pleasing yourself and brings you down from the ledge to replace it with her knee. She starts to fuck your throat with her fingers and you are impatiently rubbing yourself against her knee. You close your eyes, to take in all the pleasure you are feeling when Paige whispers into your ear, “I’m going to need you to look at me sweetheart.”, and your eyes meet hers and you almost finish at the sight. She is looking at you like you’re worth risking everything to be caught in the library. She holds your waist with her free hand to stop you and you let out a loud whine and you are quick to cover your mouth. You didn’t even know you could make such noises and you start to feel the anxiety of getting caught. But somehow, it was making you even more needy and you didn’t want to stop. Paige slides her two wet fingers into your shorts, pushing aside your underwear and rubbing your clit gently. You don’t even have time to be embarrassed by how soaked your underwear was. You wrap your arms around the back of her neck and rest your head on her shoulder, moaning quietly as she takes her time to please you. “Paige please…”, is all you can say before she slides both fingers into your drenched cunt.
“You’re such a good slut for me, taking two of my fingers ma…. can you take three?”, she asks, her voice quiet enough for just you to hear. You moan in response, but that’s not good enough for Paige. “Use your words, or I will have to stop.”, she tells you.
“Please, I can take one more just put it in please.”, you say, trying your best to be clear and not make any other lewd sounds.
Paige slides a third finger into you and you rock your hips against her hand that’s place on her knee, so you could feel her fingers go deeper into you. Struggling to keep quiet, you suck on Paiges neck and you feel yourself get closer. You pill your lips away from the blondes neck, not mentioning how deep red the pretty bruise you left on her neck were. “Paige please.”, is all you say before giving her a look. “You can finish whenever you’d like sweetheart.”, she tells you and you move your hips faster as Paige shoves her fingers into you deeper and suddenly your gasping out for air as you cum all over her fingers and knee.
You take a few seconds to catch your breath and Paige sucks on her fingers quietly.
“You taste so good, we are definitely going to have to do this again sometime soon please.”, Paige tells you, and you look up at her and before you know it you’re reaching for her chin and kissing her.
“I’d like that.”, is all you say before standing up. You end up going to the bathroom to clean up the mess you made on Paige’s pants though she insisted she could do it herself.
Maybe this could be more than just a study distraction. Maybe she could be something more.
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iznsfw · 1 year ago
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One Hop Ahead Of You
ARTMS' Jeon Heejin + woo!ah!'s Nana (Kwon Nayeon) x Male Reader Smut
18,039 words
Categories | bunny girls FTW, stepcest (kinda), blowjob, threesome, daddy kink, cunnilingus, angry sex, spanking, breeding
Bunny kpop idols are the best. There's Eunbi, Tsuki, then Heejin and Nana... Thanks for commissioning me this piece; sorry for the late post! Enjoy all the synonyms I could use for "but" :D
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Phone on, headphones plugged, music loud. That’s your story for road trips such as these, and you’ve zero plans about rewriting the plot. 
The scenery of beautiful mountains and blooming trees can’t break your focus on your mobile device. Your parents can’t either, as hard as they try; they’ve told you once or twice during the whole trip to look up from the screen for once. No, actually, scratch that: they’ve berated you about it at least every five minutes, and you’re starting to grow sick of pretending you can’t hear them. Your nonchalant continued stares on your phone don’t exactly convince them you can’t hear a thing.
Yeah, this is what happens when you give your toddler an iPad. The boomers might be right for this one. You can’t live without staring down at a bright screen, clicking at a bright screen, watching a bright screen. Eh, well, so what? Technology is a necessity in these modern days, and it just so happens that you need this kind of distraction on the road trip. Your mother and father think otherwise, but that’s because they live like it’s still the 70s or something. You don’t know. That’s how parents are.
Mobile data serves you well anyway. Your combat skills do not. You’ve been trying to kill a character on this app for a while, and it stuns you how strong her damage is. You click the sickle attack button more times than you can count and choose a special damage in between three taps, but you still end up dead. You’re seeking vengeance because the player talked shit about you on the main chat, and it doesn’t look like you’re going to show them up. You've got two deaths to go before you're seen as a pathetic little shit who tries too hard, and five kills to cement yourself as someone who isn't.
God, you’ve been playing this game for years—how are you still not good?
“Jay,” you could hear your mother call out from the edge of your earphones. She’s driving, her ringed hands firmly on the wheel. She meets your subtle gaze through the rearview mirror. “Jay.”
Groan. That’s your job as a son: to moan, groan, and drone on about everything and anything. You’re exceptionally skilled in this profession. “What now, mom?” you ask.
She gives you a sarcastic but playful little grin. “Oh, so you can hear me.”
Alright, you’ll let her have that one. But still: “Only because you’ve been nagging me for the whole trip.”
“Now now, don’t talk to your mother like that,” your father chides. He’s a kind-looking dude; he’s got triangle-shaped glasses and stubbles of a dead beard on his chin. “It’s true, but rude. Very rude, not a good look.”
Your mother clicks her tongue. She gives your father a millisecond glare before returning to driving. “Hey.”
“Honey, you know I love you, but your mouth—”
“Leave it at that,” she warns, voice dangerously tight.
Your dad doesn’t heed her warning. “—can be a nuisance.”
“That’s it. I’m pulling over. And you’re driving.”
He raises his hands. “Okay, okay,” he says passively, “I’m sorry.”
They harrumph at each other for a while, then kiss and make up, and you laugh a little. Subtly, of course. Everyone knows that part of going through teenage years (well, you’re a little past being a teen when you’re nearly twenty years old, but your mind is still the same as when you were sixteen) is denying with all your heart that your parents make you happy. You’re just going with the flow, as usual. 
It especially doesn’t help that you’re already an adult according to the Korean age system. Adulthood brings a kind of defiant independence in you, which you don’t know whether it’s a good thing or not. It has its moments, you guess.
“Oh, look at that,” says your mother, nudging your father, “Jay’s laughing!”
“I’m not!” you reply, biting your cheek so the smile doesn’t grow. Must. Not. Show. Them.
Your father peeks at you from behind the headrest and grins mischievously. “See? We still got it, don’t we?” 
The car swerves, barely making you match your fist bump with him. For this, you allow a slight smile—as much as you like to hide it like a career-ruining secret, you love your parents. They’re like two peas in a pod. Your father’s a rambunctious joke-loving guy your playful mother falls in love with everyday, resulting in, well, having you. 
Plus, because of that, you haven’t felt the need to regret being born or despising your parents, unlike other people your age. Their love for each other inspires you, and although every moment with them is guaranteed to have you be a third wheel again, you don’t mind. You love seeing them happy.
“Now that you’re back to earth,” your mother says, “can you please appreciate the surroundings? It’s too beautiful to go ignored.”
“That’s right. They won’t surround you when we fly back home.”
“Dad,” you groan, rolling your eyes. But doing a little observing is the least you could do. You can go AFK on this match for once. You’ve still got more mobile data to last a few days, so worrying isn't needed.
Look up. Blink once. Twice. It’s like a whole new world. Humble homes peek from between forests in the lower sides of the mountains. The sun is shining brightly, casting a yellow light on the trees that decorate the sides of the swerving roads. And the sky… has it always been that blue? The wispy clouds are just the cherry on top.
This place is so different from the urban city where your apartment resides. There’s no smoke, no cut trees, no rising buildings. It’s nature in its most pure state. 
There’s no traffic either, but—
“Mom, look out!” you yell, but you’re just a little too late. Just a little, and it would count, but for this one it doesn’t.
You can’t do anything about it then. The large truck that ventures on the wrong side of the road has a mission. Whether intentional or not, it can’t turn back. It collides heavily into the windshield, and you’re wrapped in dizziness and despair as your old car launches backward, rolling in the air a few times before roughly settling on the very curved edge of the road. 
Then it slides downward. You’re stuck in a spiral blurred with green and wood. What you remember is the feeling of being tortured and tossed through trees, and the truck following suit. It chases you long after its mission is complete.
Another thing you recall from the accident, as you’re lying down on the rough grass with blood on the side of your head, are two rabbits that stare curiously at you.
They seem to be sisters.
-
Voices, male and female, scruff and saccharine. They fill your ears like music but you can’t open your eyes to see to whom they belong. They speak of confusing topics and jumbled words. Can’t get a grip of their meaning. All the while your soul is yearning to rise from sleeping when it feels like you’re dying and the force inside you is struggling in defying a black fate. 
Your body, however, is blank of any pain. How strange. Strange enough that it’s a strong alarm for you to finally open your eyes. They’ve been glued together for a while, so when your vision greets you, you surprise even yourself. There’s a person in a white lab coat, and a white blanket mantles you. Is this heaven? Isn’t heaven’s signature color white?
First things first: how the fuck did they let you into heaven?
“Ah, so you’re finally awake.” A man with a rounded cap smiles at you. “How’re you doing, bud?”
Blink. So… this isn’t heaven? Do they wear caps in heaven? You don’t think so. Whoever invented denim caps deserves a nice little throne next to Lucifer. “Um. Alright, I guess?”
What should you even say when you’re trying to piece together who he was? You know you’ve seen him before when you were younger, but you’re not sure exactly when. All you’re aware of is that he looks too familiar. Kind of like deja vu. The beard and wrinkly skin tell you of a tale old as time.
“Hello, I’m doctor Kim,” says the woman in the lab coat as she approaches you. She extends a hand to you and you shake it politely. “You experienced a car crash in the morning near the terraces. Luckily, a man saw the tragedy and dialed 911.”
“Tragedy?” you wonder out loud. You’re still alive, so why would it be called that?
Doctor Kim lowers her head. “Your parents died immediately from the impact of the crash, sir. I’m sorry.”
Grief comes strangely to you, even when you’ve heard the news. You’d say you’re mourning, because you are, in a way—from that moment, you miss your parents dearly and wish that time travel existed so you’d prevent the accident from happening. But you aren’t… crying. You don’t burst into tears on the spot. There’s not even wetness in your eyes to help. Moreover, you haven’t made a small prayer for easier things to happen. It’s like the stages of grief avoid you at all costs and don’t even bother to orient you about their loss.
Maybe you’re just in denial. You’ve been staring at a blank spot on the hospital wall for what seems like ages, and you’ve only been conscious for minutes. Something’s changed within.
Wonder who’d be your parent now that both of yours are gone. You’re an orphan. You don’t even know how to drive back home or go back to the convenience store where you make your money. All your belongings for the road trip that was supposed to go beautifully are gone in the accident. 
Bite your lip thoughtfully. “Was it quick?” you ask quietly.
The doctor knows what you mean. Whether she’s lying or not is the question. “Yes.”
That comforts you a bit. What eats your insides from guilt, though, is that you never bothered to enjoy the road trip with them. You were always stuck to your damn phone. You didn’t talk much with them during their final moments, and it would haunt you forever. It doesn’t show on your face, though—it’s completely empty, devoid of any expression or pain.
“You really don’t recognize me, bud?” the man laughs, like he actually couldn’t believe it. 
Blink. Then it hits you. “Chan hyung…?” you ask. Hope you got it right because you’re steepering on sureness now.
“Bullseye.” So you did. He sits down on the edge of the hospital bed and cups your hand. “I’m a friend of your parents. They told me to look after you in case anything happens. They really loved you, y’know? Still do.”
You look down meekly and nod. Yeah, he’s right. They did. The other part’s true, too; if they had souls and were secretly watching the whole ordeal going on, they’d still love you. That’s how unconditionally they did it.
“I’m on the emergency contacts list, FYI.” He hands you his phone. “They even had a will and all. I hate that we got to meet again like this. Could have been in better circumstances. But that’s life, you know. Plus, it was quick enough to be painless.”
Your hand, linked to the dextrose, hardens in pain as it wraps around the device, but you go on. There on the screen, see that your parents did in fact keep him on the emergency contacts. He’s telling the truth. Now you understand why he looks so familiar.
Look up from the screen, (like you should have in the car when your mother and father tried to make conversation with you.) “I—I used to play baseball with you,” you say in childlike wonder. 
Chan laughs. “So I did. I’ll be happy to look after you. Probably even be your father, if you’d like.”
Your heart rises. “You’d really do that?”
“Of course! Your parents were good people, and I’d be glad to have you in my care. According to them, you’re a pretty good kid. Hope that’s true.”
“No promises.”
He laughs. He’s still got the same not-too-serious sense of humor like he did years ago. “What do you say, kid?”
He’s being a good guy, a good friend to your parents even after they passed, and you appreciate it. But being his son this quick after so much time seems like… betraying them. You know that’s not how it works, and your parents would have loved for you to gel quickly with him, but you’re just not ready. Something’s pulling you back.
What could it be?
“I…” you say, fidgeting. You don't know the right words to put it. “C-can I think about it first?”
The look on his face drops, but he smiles anyway. He must be a really good friend to be this understanding. “Of course,” he replies, retracting his hand from yours, “shouldn’t have put you on the spot. Just tell me yes or no when you’re ready. Deal?”
-
Three days is how long it takes for you to recover. To be fair, you already were—your limbs are working, and that’s enough for you. The doctors, however, insist on a lengthier stay and you kind of want to start shit in the living room and tell them how they were money-greedy exploitative little shits, but you’re not in the mood to cause a ruckus. Maybe some other time, when you eventually break all your bones and wheel out of the hospital cursing them for the bill. But yeah, some other time would work. Of course.
“I took the liberty of packing your stuff up for you,” says Chan, bringing over a luggage bag. It’s full to the edge of the zipper with clothes and other essentials. 
You wonder how he went to your home and back here to the hospital this fast. “How did you—”
“I had some help,” he replies simply. You don’t question any further.
You’re in a clean pair of clothes now. You hated wearing the hospital gown. It’s like they attempted to make hospitals less sad by fashioning a bib into a larger size. There you are with your assumptions again. Maybe the stages of grief have come for you after all. Why do you feel angry all the time? This can’t be normal.
What stage would it be if you’re afraid to get into a car because of their loss? You step into it with shaky legs, looking back and forth, as if you’re scared the vehicle would lurch forward suddenly. To be fair, it is a possibility, but a rare one. Your fear, therefore, is completely irrational, yet there you are: suddenly scared of… cars?
Get in finally. The breath you let go, however, has been keen on getting out. 
Chan knows well to avoid the path your parents went on when they died. He avoids it for both of your own wellbeings. They were close to him, too. He would hate to go down the road they died on. Like you, he wants to remember them fondly, not like the injured bodies that he said goodbye to at the morgue. Again, it’s for the best.
“Hey, kid,” he says. His peer at you through the rearview mirror gives you painful flashbacks. “You okay?”
He’s more attentive than he gives himself away as; he somehow notices your blank stare at the window and weak smile. He’s got you figured out, and you suppose that’s a good thing—it just shows how he could play his role as your dad pretty well if you let him. But then there’s the sense of yearning in you that’ll end up in no good. It’s yearning for your parents to come back, the yearning for them to somehow have the breath of life in their lungs again and have them rise from the morgue and walk back into your life. If they do that, you’d make an oath to be the best son. 
Ah, you know that won’t happen. It’s impossible. It’s wishful thinking that won’t amount to anything.
“You could talk to me.” His eyes stare straight at the road, but he’s not really looking at anything. “I miss them, too.”
“I’m fine, hyung,” you say. You’re not, but who needs to hear that? Not the guy to whom your parents entrusted you to. You’re twenty years old—who needs to hear an overgrown child’s lamentations? 
You don’t want to burden Chan at all. What you don’t know is he’s actually willing to hear all of it. You should have lamented about not knowing his openness rather than everything else. It would only lead to more sadness. 
The sadness evaporates a little upon seeing his house. It’s a nice place, with two stories and a nice terrace to lounge at. Maybe, from the other side, it’s your parents’ way of still loving you: giving you a nice home and a nice (future?) dad.
They're still looking after you. Look up in the sky and smile. Chan catches it, and for a second you blush in embarrassment, but he smiles, too. "See?" is what he says, followed up with: "Everything's gonna be fine."
Trust him on that.
Open the front door and it welcomes you into his home. Its main color is pure white. You start to wonder how the white walls are unblemished even with its ruinable color. Maybe he had it cleaned up for your sake. The furniture's good, too, but all it's good for right now is to be a bed for your luggage when you start to arrange things. 
"Your room's right over there," Chan says, pointing to an open door to your left. "Feel free to get some food or water. Whatever you like. You're family now." He steps closer and pats your shoulder. "Always been."
Smile appreciatively. Resist the urge to hug him and replace it with folding a few of your clothes into a pile to bring it over to your bedroom. Graphic shirts in one pile here, underwear and sleeveless shirts in the other over there. Add your headphones on top of the pile and you’re ready to start adjusting to your new room. Just one look and you could already tell it’s bigger than the one back at home. Well, former home, to be exact. You keep forgetting this is a whole new place that’s going to be where you sleep, rest, and laugh.
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That voice gets your guard down, and so does the girl standing in front of you. That deep voice certainly can’t belong to the sweet-but-indifferent-faced girl leaning against your door frame. Look around for a bit to see if it’s anyone else’s, but there’s no one around. Just you and the alluring woman blocking the pathway to your new room.
She gestures to the stack of clothes in your arms with her brows. “You plan on doing anything with that or what?” she asks. 
Yeah, that deep voice definitely is hers; you can hear it loud and clear. Not one syllable could belong to anyone else, no one but her. What’s her name? It’s—
“Heejin,” says Chan exasperatedly. Amusement is present in his tone too as he walks over to break it up and sling an arm around his daughter’s shoulder. “Don’t scare the new guy and let him in his room, please?”
“I’m just being curious, daddy,” Heejin explains. 
Oh, so that’s her name. Heejin. Jeon Heejin. Neat. Has a nice ring to it, but it somehow spells trouble. You swear those letters can’t make up that word, but with Heejin, it sure does. Not only does her name spell it, but so do her eyes that are way too observant, tracking your every move with prolonged glances, and the tilt of her head as if she were a trained German Shepherd rather than the animal she reminds you of: a bunny.
A bunny? 
Wait—
"Oh, it's you!" you say. Almost drop your clothes on the floor when you realize it. How could you not have caught on?
Heejin smiles. It brings the sense of familiarity to wash more over your mind like waves. "Thought you would never recognize me, Jay," she says. "Hi there."
Try not to gawk with all your might, but you do anyway. Just hope it isn't obvious because see here, the Jeon Heejin you know used to be a shy little thing, never wanting to come out and play with you when you were younger out of embarrassment. Now, she writes confidence into each and every one of her moves, with a dazzling little smile to go along with it. How did she manage the transformation? You need the tips ASAP.
"Oh, right." Chan slaps a hand to his face and shakes his head. "You two've met before, right?"
She's a little sleazy when she rests her back on the frame again and nods, eyes never leaving your body. If anything, she's the one who's gawking and even if, for argument's sake, you are, it's just an eye for an eye. The two of you are just amazed at how much the other has grown up. Nothing more.
(Or… ?)
"So it seems," she says bluntly.
"Ah, should have known. But it was a long time ago, wasn't it?"
"Mhm." Heejin looks you up and down and smiles. "You've grown up."
"So have you," you reply, because she has. Toned muscle clings to her arms and she’s let go of the rectangle-shaped glasses. Now, circular Harry Potter spectacles sit on the bridge of her pointy nose. She stares at you through them for a while. She's a CCTV; she's monitoring your moves in HD and watching you put your clothes in neat piles in the cabinet drawers. Heejin gives you a stare that lingers long after you're done folding them. She's thinking of something, and you're not sure if you want to know.
"Daddy," she calls out. 
You don't know what you're doing when you turn your head in her direction. Much less when she winks at you. Blush furiously and hide your face behind spread shirts.
Chan peeks from the living room. "Yeah, hon?" 
"I think Nana's waiting for you to pick her up? It's 3 p.m.."
"Ah, right. Can’t forget about that little rascal.” He wipes his mouth and gets up. “Help Jay with his stuff, please, Heekki?"
It only takes seconds for Chan to find his keys, but for you it takes hours. Your heart beats loudly at the thought of being alone with Heejin, and you can’t differentiate its drumming with being nervous or excited. When he finally gets out and you hear the car pull out of the way, you’re stuck. Heejin’s somewhere near the corner of your room but it doesn’t look like she’s the one who has nowhere to go. 
She’s stunning with all those locks of shiny dark hair curtaining her shoulders and fit body. Her legs do more than peeking out from her low-cut shorts as she navigates your new room. The round glasses that sit on her nose just pull her whole, gorgeous look together. You can’t believe how beautiful she’s become. She was always a pretty girl, but the maturity and growth that coursed through her early years of adulthood made her glow. It’s like you’re looking at a new, refined version of her.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” says Heejin. She picks away at a poster of a famous basketball player, name redacted. “They were good people.”
“Trust me,” you sigh, “I know.”
God knows you didn’t appreciate your parents much. It’s a pet peeve of yours to be reminded to be grateful in grave situations, but your mother and father were different from other pairs of parents. Others were abusive, neglectful, cruel. Yours knew how to take care of you while letting you dip your toes into the pool of freedom at the same time. Your parents loved you. Not a lot of people could say that.
“And they told my dad to take you in, huh?”
“Does that bother you?” you say, with an unintentional bladed edge to your voice. Realize how you said it and immediately shut your mouth.
Heejin blinks, disarmed for a while, then recovers quickly with a smile that’s just as dazzling as her. “For what it’s worth,” she says, taking the chance to place herself beside you a little too close for anything that isn’t lustful intent, “I’d love to have you over here as long as you like.”
You don’t know what to say. Her being this close with you is setting off fireworks inside of you. Put a pillow snug in your lap just to be sure and nod. “Thanks, Heejin.”
“Of course.” Heejin rests her chin on your shoulder and whispers so softly that it could’ve been your imagination deluding you again: “I’ll make your time here worthwhile.”
Jerk your head, but she’s already scampering to the door and exiting your room. She doesn’t even look back. 
“Hey,” you say, trying to break the ice that only freezes you, “Chan hyung said you would help me with my stuff!”
No response.
So you were right to think that she’s trouble. But god, would you love to be wound up in her.
-
You’ve stared at the ceiling for too long, but now, it’s not out of grief. It’s out of fear. Are you doing the right thing by wanting to fuck your sister? Well, she’s not exactly your sister yet, but she’s somehow related to you now considering her father treats you as a son, too. A stepsister, maybe? There’s no other fitting term than that.
What should you do? Is gawking at her and her desirable body going to make your parents in the afterlife proud? You’re sure they’d be disappointed. But is it your fault that Heejin’s grown into this naturally flirtatious woman? Not at all. Is it your fault that she’s so damn attractive? The answer is no, too.
It could be a yes though, because it isn’t Heejin to blame that her new brother wants to have sex with her. You’re both in the wrong, and two of those don’t exactly make a right.
Look around your room, then at the door where she leaned on as she successfully intimidated you. Is it locked? Fuck it, you don’t know, and you probably don’t even care. What you do know is that you’re too turned on by the thought of your new sister Jeon Heejin, and you need to do something about it.
(To the cracked hole in the fourth wall, you say, What? I have needs, too, you know. And you do, too—why do you think you’re reading this now?)
Lift your comforter just a little and slide your hand south. Cup your bulge, caress it, then spring it out. It’s already solid, and it doesn’t need too many strokes to have the blood rushing there completely. Your stiff rod aches for a touch, aches for Heejin, and stimulates itself to the thought of her as you start to jerk off.
You think of how she could swing those full thighs over each side of your face, and though her form would burden your chin, you’d happily eat of her. Bet that her pussy’d taste just as good as her lips. You’d lick and suck her clit while she moans and writhes until the two of you couldn’t take it anymore; her core would feel numb after the pleasure and your jaw would ache for days.
You recall how her lips were just inches away from you earlier, only barely touching the curve of your ear. Think of how those lips would feel much better if they were on yours. Yearn for your mouths to meet to the point that you’re moaning in each other, taking in the natural scent of skin and sex.
Finally, you think of the changes you’ve seen in her. Where was the shy, antisocial Heejin of yesterday? Now she’s grown, just like you, and looks far better than you’d imagine. She’s turned into this will’o the wisp goddess.
“Heejin,” you say, as quietly as you could, “Heejin, Heejin, Heejin—”
“God, I really turned you on that much, huh?”
Your pumps stop, and your sight catches onto the said woman you’ve been jerking off to. She’s in the same place as she was earlier, at her opening scene at the door frame. You’re more than happy to see the pretty Heejin, but she can’t show up now. Not when you’re jerking off. She can’t just appear in the corner like she teleported for the pure purpose to catch you in the act.
“Heejin!” you yell, pulling the covers onto yourself. “G-get out of my room!”
She’s wearing her sleep clothes now, but she still looks like she dressed to impress. Her body pulls together the skimpy shorts and loose shirt she sleeps in into something that could have been worn on a haute couture catwalk. Her raised brows, haughty eyes, and quirked mouth all show how she’s smugger than the word itself.
“Aww,” Heejin says, walking over to sit on your bed, “what should we do to you now, oppa?”
You’re horrified, to say the least. It’s your first day at a new house and you’re already doing something wrong. The bare minimum you should do in this situation is to tell the girl to fuck off. Tell her to go far away and flee to anywhere but your room. You can’t just stare at her like she’s a dream come true, even if she is.
Let’s see: you have your new sister on your bed who caught you jerking off. There has to be some other way this would end, but the two of you know where this leads. The question that remains is if you’d be able to hold back.
You make the first step to resisting the inevitable outcome. “Heejin,” you say, breaths shredded into panicked little gasps, “I’ll only say it again and no more. Get out of my room.”
She smiles sweetly and shakes her head. “Can’t make me. I want to know what you were doing, Jay.”
“No!” You won’t be saying it, you won’t dream of saying it, you’d rather die than to be caught saying it. It’s already bad enough when it goes unspoken. What more if you pronounce what you were doing with each syllable more embarrassing than the other?
“Then I guess I should just”—she tugs the covers off—”oh my, Jay oppa. You were touching yourself to me. And I thought I was just being narcissistic.”
Your cock leaks in the cold air. Heejin laughs tauntingly. It sounds so much more attractive than it should, especially when her voice is deep and rich. It sounds… sexy?
Oh, what are you doing? You should feel embarrassed, maybe even petrified at the mere thought of your childhood acquaintance slash new sister slash new crush seeing your dick. But your mind doesn’t brew with insecurities upon seeing her eyes glimmer with eagerness.
She can’t do this. No, no, no, you can’t do this either. Let fucking her remain a fantasy pirouetting in your head, not one that comes true. It’s so much more awkward when it translates into real life where you somehow think it into existence. 
Awkwardness isn’t in Heejin’s dictionary, though. She looks far from uneasy or disgusted. In fact, you swear there’s a small grin dimpling her cheeks. It’s like she’s actually flattered that you’re jerking off to her.
“If I knew you had such a big cock, Jay oppa…” she says, placing a hand on your hip to prop herself on it. You jerk involuntarily, which happens at the worst time; your cock almost brushes her cheek. “I would have let you fuck me in front of daddy. Or would you rather I call you daddy?”
“Why are you here, for god’s sake?” you say. You’re biting your lip to suppress your humiliated screams.
“Well,” she taps her chin, a feat that would be adorable if you’d just cast the situation aside, “I thought I heard something, and it was just as I suspected.”
“Fine, I’ll say it for the third time: Jeon Heejin, get the fuck out of my room.”
“Oh, that’s right. Say my name, oppa. Daddy.” She winks. “Say it and I might just put my lips on this big fat cock.”
“No, you won’t.” 
It sounds more challenging instead of intimidating, and it’s clear that Jeejin doesn’t cower away from dares anymore. “Watch me.” 
She lowers herself onto your lower body and admires your length with bright bunny eyes. “I’d let you blow in my mouth as much as you like. I’d fuck my throat on it and give it a nice good kiss. Oh, right, you wanna know how? Like this.” 
She engages with your dick into an open-mouthed osculation, swallowing the tip and suckling it, too. Groan, but when you pull your hand out to do the opposite to her head, she’s already sitting back up. You really can’t have your way here, not when your new sister knows of her danger and puts it to good use. She’s resourceful like that, and it both impresses and scares you.
Heejin wags her finger in your face as if she were scolding a trouble child. “No, no, Jay oppa,” she reprimands you. “That was just a teaser. If you really want me, jerk off to me. Say my name.”
You can’t say no to her. Well, actually, you can—you just refuse to. You’re fifty-percent scared of the outcome of making this deal with Heejin and fifty-percent excited. There’s an Alice-like curiosity in you that yearns to see what might happen. Would she really keep her end of the deal and suck you off? Or leave you with blue balls like she did earlier?
Wrap your hand unsurely around your penis again. She nods encouragingly. 
Do your usual routine: up and down. Murmur her name over and over, your gaze connected with hers. Her smile grows bigger as your pumps become less measured. You start to spiral out of control. How can you not when she’s just too fucking hot? Her succubus stare, thighs that look fuller as they rest on your mattress, her intent that grows more clear as she rubs your thigh. You’re trapped in lust, and you know you have to settle down a little before you completely lose track of all senses, but you can’t stop. How could anyone when there’s Jeon Heejin as she lives and breathes in front of you?
Say her name, say her name. 
Say it like a poem, say it like it’s one of fame. 
Say it like you’re about to cum, which you are, and your climax isn’t one that’s too far—
“That’s it, Jay,” says Heejin in a tone that’s almost loving. As your cum shoots an obscene, one-direction spurt, she replaces your hand with hers. “Cum for me. You want to fuck me so bad it’s pathetic.”
Her touch is as rough as it is soft. You say it’s too much in between thin whimpers of pleasure, but her flexed hand is determined to keep pumping. Her fist tightens and her jerks grow stronger. 
“Naughty, naughty oppa. Look at this thick hot cum. Is it all for me?”
You’re spraying all over her and her meaty thighs. Her shorts get stained and you try with all your might to contain the bursts of white, but you end up on the edge again. You end up releasing more. Your thoughts run in circles and bump into each other—they’re scolding you, hurting you, asking you why the fuck are you cumming from your new sister’s handjob. You’d answer them by saying you don’t know, but you know the reason probably more than you know yourself: 
Heejin is unbearably alluring, and her giving you a handjob is unbearably wrong. Strangely, both of these facts get you going. The mere truth that she shouldn’t be doing this with you makes you want more of it. Has grief taken a more different route in traumatizing you? Oh god, what would your parents think?
What would Chan think? He trusts you enough to be a good big brother to Heejin. Would you really throw his trust in you away, all for his irritatingly hot oldest daughter?
If you’d take a look at the situation—you having just ejaculated on her—it seems like it.
“No,” you say. It’s a crack in your integrity knowing that you could stress her name in any way or form, and she’d still be hot as fuck. It wouldn’t undo what she did to you and what you let her do. “P-please. We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“That’s what makes it fun, right?” She wipes your cum from her thighs with her shirt. “Besides, I did say I’ll make your time worthwhile.”
How does that work? A brother and sister, whether related by blood or not, should bond by having sincere talks and treating each other, not by having sex. 
(But she’s right about the fun part. Looks like Heejin is just as fucked in the head as you are.)
“I want to have some fun, Jay oppa,” she explains. She places her palms on her thighs caked with cum, and pouts. From that, you know you can’t resist. You wouldn’t dare. “Won’t you let me, pretty please?”
She’s both hot and adorable. Hot enough to drive you crazy and adorable enough to convince you to do any of the most mundane things out there. You don’t know how to do this with her. It seems like no matter how cute or sleazy she poses herself as, she’ll always get what she wants somehow. 
It’s dumb of you to even try, but you do: “Okay, what fun do you want to have?” Say this while collecting tissues from the little box at your bedside table to wipe down her thighs. You expected to use the tissues for self-love sessions and nights when the tears couldn’t stop. You never thought that you’d have to use them to clean your cum from your new sibling’s legs.
“You know exactly what I want: I want this”—she points at your cock—”in here”—then at the center of her shorts.
Immediately your already gray morals come out to play. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Heejin,” you say, biting your lip to stay quiet. It’s not intentionally hot or whatsoever, but Heejin’s mind particularly hangs onto that for a while. “We’re brother and sister now. We can’t do this. What if your dad finds out?”
“Aww, I get it. I do, really. But you’re so going to hit my guts if you fuck me right now.” She throws off her shorts, leaving her in nothing but a set of cute pink panties. Then, she scoots herself over so that your cock rests upon her small belly, right in front of her core. “See? You can spread me that well, and I won’t mind at all. I promise.”
Look at your cock and how far it can reach inside her, how it can push her walls apart. Oh god, it’s tempting. Everything about her, from her perfect face to her spread thighs, calls for you to forgo propriety and just fuck her. 
“This bunny’s waiting for you, oppa.” Heejin does more than wait and pulls down your boxers. Pulls down her panties. Pulls down your ethics and morality and principles and everything you used to go by; down they go into the river of fire. “This bunny girl’s gonna fuck herself on this cock. You want that, don’t you, daddy? You want me to ride you and call you daddy. Make me call myself your little bunny. Yeah, I’ve got you all figured out.”
What she’s doing may be wrong, but what she’s saying is right. You, in all unfiltered honesty, want to see Heejin bounce on you and ride you endlessly. Her toned thighs and calves are made for it. She deserves getting what she wants after jerking you off.
But does Chan deserve this: have his new son and his daughter betray his trust? Turn the family upside down all because of lust? 
Oh, who cares what he thinks? When Heejin slides her pussy down your cock in one try despite her refusing tightness, you lose your thoughts. The will to take her roughly, just like she deserves, takes its place. It rules your head with an iron fist, just like how you rule Heejin’s impossibly tight pussy with iron-clad thrusts. 
“Oh, oh, oh fuck,” she gasps. She squeezes her eyes shut and grabs onto your shoulders. Her hold is tight. That’s one thing it has in common with her cunt. “Daddy, you’re so big. I can’t, p-properly ride it, you’re too big.”
Your cock is held hostage by Heejin’s stubborn cunt. She wants it to stuff her fully, but never could let it inside her. She’s too tight. Your hands on her waist, you push her down as gently as you could. She lets out deep groans and sighs. 
“That feels so good, daddy,” she tells you. After that, you achieve a dream you never thought would come true, as light as it is compared to fucking her: a kiss. It’s not as passionate as her bouncing on your crotch, but it’s good enough to have you blushing. “Yes, you like it when your little bunny girl kisses you? You like how tight she is?”
You nod. That’s all you can do when you’re speechless. What else can you say to her? You can’t tell her that it isn’t true when every iota of her words are true. 
“You can do better than that, daddy,” Heejin gasps, head tossed back. A storm of black hair hangs over your bed clothes. “I know you can. Yes, just like that. Do it. Fffuck me harder, I want it, fuck—”
Clearly, slow, precious pumps into her tiny hole aren’t going to work. So it isn’t exactly all your doing when you lift Heejin and suddenly have her pinned to the bed. The balance of power is reversed—you’re now pounding her to your mattress, spreading her legs and propelling your thrusts into the perfect target: her small, damp hole. You take advantage of how wet she is by thrusting bluntly and exclude the rest of your length for a chance to breathe. With Heejin, though, there’s no such thing as breathing. She’s left you gasping for air since your reunion.
“Hnnn, lookie here, daddy.” She lifts her shirt, revealing a surprising set of subtle yet hard abs, where your bulge appears and disappears. “You’re so big that you’re, fu— fucking reaching my tummy. That’s why you have to go deeper. Can’t waste such a big cock, right?”
She grabs your waist to aid your pumps. She must have done some serious lifting in the gym; those harsh tugs and pulls have got to be from somewhere. You’re thrown into a looped route of jamming your tip against her G-spot and cervix hard. Heejin’s grippy pussy refuses to let you go through the night without going down on her. Not that you’d have it any other way. Silly how just moments ago you were telling her not to continue her advances, yet now you’ve advanced past flirty banter with her.
Make it a point, no, a goal to thrust upward rather than only forward. She spreads her legs more, and you reach under her loose shirt to squeeze her breasts. Her nipples are perky and deserve each of your tweaks. Heejin whimpers, as if she were an actual bunny caught into a trap. What a terrible hunter you are, but it’s simply revenge. The disguised predator, Heejin, was actually prey—she’s caught into the ropes she went to with confident hops.
The hunter becomes the hunted.
“Fuck, you’re going to put a baby in me,” whines Heejin. “C-can’t do that, just—no, just cum on my stomach, please. My mouth, my legs, anywhere.”
When she puts it that way, it makes you spite the fact that it’s forbidden. You want to release in Heejin and make her feel your warm cum. Let it infiltrate her womb and give her a baby. You can’t have that happen, yet you want it to happen. It shouldn’t be like this.
“Please,” you say. You’re getting incredibly close that it rides on your tongue like the aftertaste of a dessertful. You can’t believe you’re actually begging to cum inside her, but any man would if put in your place. Anyone who thinks it’s pathetic clearly hasn’t met Heejin face to face.
“Daddy,” she says, “you can’t…”
Saddening news, and she isn’t too happy about it either. The tremble of her lower lip is one you capture with a firm kiss. Your breaths get caught in her mouth as you near climax. And the orgasmic Heejin’s wrapping her legs around you tight, as if daring you to breed her even if she’s clearly told you not to. It’s like her legs, sealed around your hips, bear the weight of the advantages and disadvantages and spread them out for you, yet the thing in between them makes you forget all about the cons. 
It’s scary how you almost give in.
Just in time, however, you pull away and bust a load on her tummy. It’s the product of all the jabs your rod did at it. It’s only fair it gets to show the plentiful result laid all over the muscled skin. 
Heejin looks down at the pool of cum while gasping for air. She swallows, then smiles. “Not bad for a guy who’s gonna be my big brother.”
-
You can already tell having sex with her is going to become a usual affair. The look she flashed you before leaving for school is telling enough. When she woke you up with a sloppy blowjob, saying in between soft suckles that “I have at least one hole you could fill,” you went insane. You’ve made your bed. Now you have to lie in it.
To be fair, you’d lie in Heejin forever if you could. But as a son, you have duties to fulfill. Although Chan told you that you’re free to do whatever you wish, you still have the sense to help around the house. You don’t want to be seen as a burden. You’d want to be anything but the new son who doesn’t know how to do things, especially for your new sisters.
Your new relationship with Heejin, though, exceeds familial bond. Will you hide it from Chan or put a stop to what she’s doing before it transforms completely? Down the road feelings from both ends might get involved and increase the overall taboo of the situation. Chan would probably get suspicious. 
You don’t know what to do.
Take your mind off things. Make an extravagant meal, or at least a style-over-substance one. Follow the instructions of a recipe for mashed potatoes at the back of the gravy powder packet. Hell, you could do this: set cut and peeled potatoes in a pot of briskly boiling water, mash them after smearing them with butter, shake pepper onto those motherfuckers… done! 
Put your masterpiece into a bowl and set it on the table. It actually looks pretty good. Maybe being a chef is your calling. You can already imagine the scenarios you’d go through as one. Chef Jay doesn’t sound too bad, right?
Chan is at work while Heejin’s at college. You’re glad you won’t be seeing Heejin for the remainder of the day; as much as you’d hate to see her go, meeting her would make you feral. She left a to-do list on a post-it sticky note on the fridge door, which looks like it’s been there for a while if you take into consideration the boxes all being checked. 
A more recent one, however, is Chan’s own reminders written on a piece of ruled college notebook paper, apparently addressed to you and Nana: 
Good morning! Have an awesome day ;)
Please treat yourself to the Mcdonalds in the fridge, just reheat it pls
Take care of yourselves, love you!
Ah, you wouldn’t have made mashed potatoes if you knew Chan had left some McDonald’s. You hope that he still remembers your favorite from years ago: a classic Big Mac with medium fries to go.
Open the fridge eagerly and—
There’s nothing?
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You know who it is. That voice is decidedly more youthful than Heejin’s, but not anymore that high. It’s Nayeon. Nana, to be exact. Everyone you know calls her Nana in order to avoid confusing her with Im Nayeon who’s somewhere in the line of the kids of your parents’ friends.
Nana’s younger by only a year, hence being the perfect playmate for you back then. The two of you would run around and yell at each other gleefully, basking in the joys of childhood you didn’t know would last that short. 
So, when you step closer to her, you don’t really believe it’s her. If there’s anything in common between the bright Nana and the laid-back Heejin, it’s that they’ve both grown up beautifully. 
“Nana?” you ask. 
Her hair was a silky black then, often wrangled in between with sand and dirt, but now, it’s a mass of coffee brown. It looks like she’s gotten glasses, too, aside from a light fringe that settles prettily on her forehead. 
But then there’s Nana’s body, which you used to pick up as a child to mimic flying heroes with, which has grown… voluptuous. In the volleyball shorts and casual statement tee, it flatters her medium-sized bust and meaty thighs just right.
(It probably even coaxes you into thinking she’s the perfect… girlfriend?)
Her face still is adorable as ever. If someone were to put the cutest face in the world with the perfect body, the outcome would be Nana. She’s more than that, actually; she just so happens to be exactly your type.
Oh no, here you go again. Your feelings for her from your youthful days resurge, and you realize you’ll probably add another fuck-up to the list before this day ends. Meeting Heejin was one thing, but Nana, your first grade playmate slash friend slash childhood crush? Slash new sister? You’re as good as dead to Chan if he finds out what you want to do to her.
“Jay oppa!” says Nana. Her smile has grown more beautiful, just like the rest of her. It’s still cheeky, but wider. “You remember me, right?”
How could you not? “Y-yeah.”
“Aww, sweet!” Nana pokes you on the shoulder. “Anyway, I ate your Big Mac, sorry. I got hungry.”
Oh, so Chan did remember your favorites. 
“One meal wasn’t enough for you?” ask her, grinning. You still got that playfulness in you with her. Hopefully she reciprocates.
She gives you the finger. 
Scoff and turn away with raised hands. “If it makes you feel better, I made potatoes for you,” you announce, “but I guess I’ll have them since you ate my Big Mac.”
“Meanie.”
“Overgrown baby.”
“Jaybird.”
It’s just like the old times, except for today, nobody gets hurt. The two of you know the truth: you’ve missed each other so much. Not a day goes by when you don’t think of each other. You’re embedded into the depths of everyday thoughts, the times when she’d say oh no, I wasn’t thinking of you but only because she doesn’t realize it because you’re layers upon layers upon layers of idle thought. 
It would take an expeditioner to navigate through the history you and Nana have.
You’re childish. What makes up for it is what you say next, because it’s kind of true and isn’t merely something to say just for the hell of it, as you step forward and lower your gaze to her with a sobering glare: “Brat.”
Nana approaches you with her hands folded behind her back. She tilts with each step, as if contemplating on whether she is one or not. “Am I?” 
She’s so much smaller than you, yet your hands fill up when you place them on her hips. Her waist is tiny compared to the slopes of her hips and thighs. Her cheeks (on both parts, to be clear, because you know what you’re thinking) are sizable, too, and you can’t choose between the two pairs on which to squeeze.
“Yeah.”
“Can you handle it?”
You see where this is going. You’re still a mirror of each other, and the glass still reflects lust. “Nana.”
“Fine,” she says indifferently. She hops on the kitchen island and crosses her arms. That should be a sign that she’s going to be anything but. “Be like that. Pretend you don’t know what I wanna do. Even better, pretend you don’t like me.”
She’s got it all wrong. Draw in some air and let it out immediately. “I do like you, Nana,” you clarify. “But—”
“But?” 
How do you tell her what the matter is without revealing that you just had sex with Heejin the night before? You’ve no idea how to go through this. Your feelings for her collide with your attraction to her sister, as well as what you did with her.
No outcome of this is morally right, but who cares for morality? You do, although you’re the last person who should be talking about that. You’re trying to salvage what’s left of your ethics and piece it together to make yourself believe that you’re a good person. Newsflash: you’re not. No good person would fuck his new sister and want to fuck the other, too.
Whir the script you used for Heejin for her younger sister. “We’re family now,” you say weakly. 
Nana rolls her eyes. “Get off your high horse.”
“It’s not a high horse. It’s… it’s decency.”
“Hm. Okay.”
It’s surprising how quick Nana concedes. Her simple answer should have led to a simple result: the two of you never talking about this again and respecting the boundaries of the other. But no, she’s walking towards you, setting her hands on your shoulders. Her mouth is nearing yours, somewhere you’ve dreamed of it residing despite it being so wrong.
“Then stop me,” she dares you. It’s a tougher dare than the ones she made you do on the playground. “If you’re so righteous and don’t want to kiss me, stop me.”
You shouldn’t kiss her. You want to, but it’s something that should never happen. Your feelings for her since your childhood days can’t come out to play when she’s your new sister. No unspoken law of morality says that it’s fine for you to sweep her up in your arms, kiss her, and take her to bed. If you do, you’re committing multiple crimes. 
Nana is the braver felon. She presses her lips on your mouth, and you have to admit, in spite of the wrongness, that it’s everything you’ve dreamed of. Her chapsticked mouth is soft and sweet. You really should have held back. Nevertheless, her tongue is in your mouth, and soon you’re holding her head in your hands so you could kiss her properly. 
She’s turned you into a felon, too. So rob her of her breath. Hold her body hostage on the island. Kill your hesitation. You’re one of the same, yet only one of you has shown any hesitation in doing this. In fairness, there’s still a voice in the back of your head that commands you to stop. 
You don’t listen to it.
“Did your dad put any CCTVs in the house?” you ask breathily. If you’re going to do something wrong, you should at least try to hide it.
“He’s old as shit. Of course he didn’t,” says Nana, giggling. “If you eat my pussy right now he won’t know. Unless, of course, you want to get caught.”
“So you’re scared of climbing trees but not getting caught having sex?”
“Hey, I’m not scared of climbing trees anymore! Now shut up and eat me. Consider this… your lunch, since I had your McDonald’s.”
“By all means, Nayeon,” you say, pulling down the shorts that live up to their name and the flimsy set of pink panties.
“It’s Nana—ohhhh…”
Her correction gets lost and translated into moans. You’re sending quick, dainty licks on her clit. Enjoy the shivers Nana does. You know well to prey on that area after that, besides your experience with an old high school fling and sex ed. You also know to caress her thighs to send chills up her body, somehow even bringing heat to her core.
She’s too light to cause injury, but she almost, almost does when she squirms her hips harshly into your face. “Oppa!” she squeals. Her fingers are wrapped at the edge of the island as she lifts her lower body up for you to devour. “Th-that feels so good—fuck—”
“Thought you didn’t like to curse,” you say. Break the contact with her clit and let your finger take its place. 
“And I thought you were a virgin.”
You don’t realize that your finger rubbing on her sensitive little nub takes the offense out on it. “The fuck?”
“Y-yeah, I know.” Nana hisses. She rolls her hips up and down. “I thought you’d be too scared to have sex with me. You know, besides the obvious reasons.”
“So you’re saying I should be the guy you thought I would be? And stop?”
“Don’t you fucking dare—”
Laugh. “Relax,” you tell her. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll eat this delicious pussy of yours till you’re screaming, I promise.”
Nana laughs as well. She rests her calves on both of your shoulders and smiles. “Spoken like a true non-virgin.”
It helps that she’s so fucking delicious. You’d start having her as a rewarding meal after tough days rather than McDonald’s. She’s the perfect balance of sweetness and tanginess, filling your mouth like a rain of sugar. Wrapping your lips around her nub just brings out more wetness and moans that are just as sweet. Her sounds of pleasure are exactly what you’ve fantasized about them being: soft yet high, clinging to pitched tones and increasing in volume when you slurp on her nub. 
Her sounds are so much different from her sister’s. Heejin’s moans are deep and unearth even deeper feelings of lust for her. Nana’s drive you crazy in a different way. They urge you to keep eating her, to keep suckling harshly on her little clitoris so you’d have her stiff nipples poke the front of the cloth of her shirt, to keep doing away with her tiny hole so that she’s begging in that cute little voice of hers. 
She’s more passive than Heejin, too. It took rough patches for you to finally be able to fuck her sister into temporary submission. For Nana, it only takes a few licks here and there, and she’s already shaking. Still, you can’t choose between them. 
Why choose anyway when you can have them both?
Nana, of course, is good enough for now. Though she’s got you in a padlock between her thighs and forcing you to keep eating her, you give in happily. Your hands are curled around her thick soft thighs to maintain her sprawled position on the island. And dear god, are you taking advantage of it. The suction of your lips is almost cruel, and the poor girl has to alternate between loving it and being overwhelmed.
Run your hands along her delicious backside then squeeze the two round globes. She moans appreciatively, and she’s faced with another two decisions to choose from: to reverse herself into your hands so you could play with her ass more or to go forward to have your mouth absolutely devouring her. Both options are sure to provide her pleasure, but she can’t choose just one. So she moves her hips forward and backward, grinding on the tip of your tongue and your rough palms. It feels so much better this way for her. She’s finally found a good routine.
“Oppa, oppa, Jay oppa,” groans Nana. “Please, p-please.”
She doesn’t specify what she’s begging for. She doesn’t need to anyway when you know the answer. That’s why you run your tongue along her soaked labia, then let it peek into the hole they welcome you in. Delve your tongue inside her deeply. Her ass lifts off the surface and you have to pull her down to earth though she’s close to meeting heaven because of you. No, she’s staying here, under your control and touch. She isn’t going anywhere.
Not that Nana would rather be anywhere else. She’s content with having you orally please her. She likes the feeling of being sprawled out before and under you and letting you have your way with her. She was wrong to think you were a virgin; the wildest laps of an inexperienced mouth definitely won’t feel this good.
She should eat your lunch more times if this is how it would end.
“Your tongue, fuck,” she says, voice shattered, “ it feels so good—don’t stop, please, I can’t—”
You don’t plan on it. Nana’s too delicious, too sweet to stop eating of. She’s definitely miles better than what you were supposed to have for lunch. Although your head still swirls at the idea that you’re actually having sex with your crush, hesitation is a faint dream. Her moans, sweet and whiny, prod you on and tell you a story of a climax approaching.
Draw out the plotline by tracing a line from her slit to her pearl, repeat then, shove a plot twist in there by suddenly curling your tongue inside her. She provides the dialogue and ending line:
“Jay oppa, I’m cumming!”
Nana’s screams switch to squeals when you spank her bubble butt while continuing to eat her out. She reaches for your head and pulls it deeper between her thighs, while her other hand rests on her left nipple. The combined pleasure unexpectedly makes her leak of squirted girl cum. Of course, you waste no time in licking that up.
“T-too much, fuck, oh yes,” she gasps. Her breaths are burdened with each word. “Spank me, oppa, just like that!”
Everything you do drives her crazy. From your spanking and sucking, her hips never fail to lose control. They knock, sway, and dance while her pussy drips with more accumulated wetness and cum. Despite her satisfaction, it’s clear that you won’t be able to drink all of her juices when the mere act of doing it forms more.
“Oppa, oppa, stop.”
Pause and look up at her with a mouth smeared with juices. “What’s the problem?” you ask. You’d hate to have done something wrong to her.
“I think daddy and Heejin unnie are at the driveway.”
Shit. You immediately pull away from Nana’s cunt. She barely gets her shorts on right when Chan and Heejin come in. Pray that the kitchen smells of what it’s supposed to instead of sex. You can still catch the slight scent of gratification in the air. 
“We’re home!” says Chan. He comes bearing gifts: supermall department store paper bags strung in a single wrist. You’re strangely more drawn to Heejin rather than the clothes that might be brought home; she counts as a gift, right?
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She’s barely wrapped, though. A tube top designed as a blue handkerchief dangles around her bust. The shawl doesn’t exactly play the probable role of a ribbon when it’s thinner than one. 
Oh well, easier to unwrap and break into pieces.
“Hi, Jay oppa,” says Heejin. Her smile is wide; she knows you’re flustered by her choice of fashion today. She looks at Nana with a comparably colder gaze. “Nana.”
Sibling rivalry, you assume? The tension is incapable of going unnoticed. You wonder what it’s for. There must have been history between them. You wouldn’t know, however; you’re an only child. Were. 
“How was the…” you say, trying to break the thickness in the air but find that you don’t have the words to do it. Why do you even bother? Oh, right, they’re your sisters now—as a big brother, you have to try and help them make ends meet. 
“Oh, the mall?” Chan says. He’s unknowingly rescued you from awkwardness. He throws you the bag. “Pretty good! I got you a shirt. Heekki bought some stuff, too.”
“You didn’t get me anything, daddy?” asks Nana disappointedly. The redness in her face is lucky to be passed off as the heat’s doing.
“Maybe if you didn’t spill that water on the floor I’d give you your present early.”
The youngest sister tilts her head, but when she turns around, she realizes what her father means. Just when you thought you’d left the coast clear, there’s one piece of evidence you failed to hide: Nana’s slick and cum. It drools from the edge of the island and on the ground. Even worse, your shirt is stained, too. 
“I—uh, daddy—”
“What? Gonna cry, Nayeon?” Heejin asks. She flashes her sister a taunting grin.
What is going on between these two? Why is Heejin bullying her? Why is Nana looking angrier than she’s ever looked in her life? You truly don’t understand. 
“It’s Nana,” the younger girl replies. Her shoulders are visibly tense.
Chan gives them a stern look. You know what that means: cut it out, or I’ll make you. You’ve learned to translate those looks from parents of unruly children at public places. “Girls,” he pacifies them. “Don’t want to start a fight in front of your new brother, do you?”
“She started it!” Nana says protestingly.
“And I’ll end it. Cut it out and clean your mess up.”
Heejin smiles sweetly yet artificially as her sister obeys what she’s told to do. Then, she drags you to the bedroom out of sight.
Cut to black.
-
“You’re a bad person, Jay oppa.”
Those are the first words Heejin told you after she pulled you into her room. Her kisses aren’t as passionate anymore when they’re more angry than lustful. Her lips mash on your neck, mouth, and chest, all while she unbuttons your shirt with quickness you’ve never seen in her.
Your shirt’s torn off you before it could even live on to be a hand-me-down. An angry Heejin, you find out, can do things like that. She isn’t all seductive and sweet when she’s furious. And right now, she’s burning on every end with wrath.
“I think that’s why you agreed to have sex with me,” she says. Pulls off your bottoms so she can sit her bottom on you. “Because you wanted some kind of fucked up stress relief. And then you see me, and you go ‘hey, I could fuck this girl and since she’s such a slut she wouldn’t mind.’ That’s what you thought, right? That I’m just another dumb slut bunny?”
None of that crossed in your mind. All you knew when you were reunited with Heejin was that you were very attracted to her. “Heejin, it isn’t like that. And you’re not a slut.”
“For you,” Heejin throws her shawl to the corner of the room, “I am.”
She said it, not you. Still won’t agree to it. But when Heejin’s riding you at this pace that you can’t keep up with, you might change your mind. 
Her thighs ripple photogenically when they slap onto yours. Your face can’t say the same. From the moment the door was closed, she pounced on you. She takes the role of a hunter again. She has her hand on your chest and her ass perched on your crotch. It all starts and ends there.
“Oh, and you looove lording it over me, huh?” she asks. She’s yelling at you, angry at you about something you don’t even know yet, which is supposed to make you feel scared. You should be cowering and promise yourself to never ever underestimate her again. Instead, you feel…
Aroused? 
Your cock is hard enough to push past her slick walls and bask in their embrace. You hear your own breaths partner up with Heejin’s.
“You know I like you and your dick so much,” she continues. Her bounces are strong. Days and nights spent at the gym keep her stamina strong. Is she a singer, too? Her voice hasn’t cracked once. Or maybe she’s just that angry. “That’s why you like making me jealous. You know I can’t control myself around you.”
“Heejin, it’s n-not like that.” Surprised that you manage to get those words out of your mouth. All that’s coming from it are moans.
“So what is it?” 
“Wait, is this about Nana?”
She growls. Her pace quickens, and you’re off the edge again, your hands planted on the white mattress shaking and failing to keep you up. Her voice is like a trigger word that shuts all your systems down. 
“See,” she says. She shuts her eyes and bites her lip. “You even, hahm, call her Nana, too.”
Give up on trying to remain stable. Place your hand instead on Heejin’s ass to help her meaningful grinding. “Everyone calls her that.”
“But you don’t even call me Heekki or anything. It’s not fair, you know. You and your fucking crush on that bitch.”
Well, she’s right. You do have a crush on Nana. She doesn’t have that wrong. The thing is—
“I’m sorry, Heekki.” 
You’d tell her that as many times as she wants if that’s what makes her feel better. You still want more sessions like these with her, maybe less violent, in the future, even if your feelings for her sister are beyond mere lust.
Right, Nayeon. Nana. What do you do about your attraction to her? Could you like Heejin and her at the same time? It isn’t fair to both parties, including you. You can’t just lead them on. You’re not supposed to, to be more precise; they’re your sisters. But of course, you break that taboo and are fucking the eldest sister to her guts in her bed after having just eaten her sibling’s pussy. You wouldn’t choose one over the other.
“Hnnn, yes.” Heejin minces her words in heavy, dark tones that sound a lot more desperate than the real her. It really is your fault. You’re making her this way. “Call me that again, Jay oppa. Please? I’m, I’m your Heekki, right? Your only bunny girl?”
Little white lies, little white lies. “Yes, Heekki,” you reply. “Now hop on daddy’s cock like a good little bunny.”
“Yes, of course I will, daddy!” She’s nearly sobbing when she resumes her riding. The flexes of her thighs help her lifting and resting on your crotch. She gasps because of your hands sneaking under her handkerchief top and squeezing her ample breasts. “D-daddy, please, Heekki loves your cock, please fuck me harder!”
Jerk upwards. Heejin’s perfect pussy is a real-life fleshlight. She could be your toy anytime, one you’d bring and fuck anywhere. She’s too fitting for all the secret desires embedded in your heart. Who wouldn’t want a slutty little bunny girl toy like Heejin, with an unexpectedly sexy deep voice and a fit body?
You’re all too focused on her tiny cunt. Her hole is just made to be bred. You have to remind yourself you can’t do it. It’s hard to resist when her cunt is virginally tight and the flesh of her ass is enticing to play with. Even her groans tempt you, all those little whines and pleas shoot right at your heart (and dick.) You want to fuck her like nothing’s wrong, like she isn’t your sister and you’re not supposed to be doing this.
“Daddy, daddy, oh, daddy—” Heejin gasps.
Swipe at her clit and she screams. Shut her up with the finger you used to rub her nub, sliding it into her unprepared yet otherwise welcoming mouth. “Shut up, slut. That’s what you are, right, Heejin? Daddy’s slutty bunny girl?”
Self-contradicting or something. Oh, you don’t know. 
Still with your fingers forcing her mouth open, she nods. “Mmm. Mhmm, daddy, your slut bunny, yes—”
Heejin isn’t angry anymore. Your cock turns out to be the solution to her problems, even jealousy. You’d hate to tell her that her envy is rational. 
How would you tell her?
She sucks on your fingers, eyes glowing with tears of need. “Cumming’n you, now, daddy,” she breathes. “I want to be daddy’s only bunny girl, t-the one who gets to cum around his big cock everyday, please. I’m not mad, Heekki’s not mad anymore, I promise.”
Kiss her, and for a moment you forget about your own trials, too. The world gives its toughest times (resisting the urge to fuck your new sisters dumb) to its strongest soldiers (you).
-
You have more secrets about yourself and what you’ve done than you can count on ten fingers. Not even a sworn oath could drag them from your lips. Torture like waterboarding or a knife to your throat would be useless. Your lips are sealed at all times. No exceptions.
That’s why you’re able to fuck both Nana and Heejin without them knowing about it.  It’s been months and it’s still going on. You can’t believe it reached this point. 
You enjoy the differences between the two girls whenever you fuck them. They don’t think that you’re fucking the other either. The angry sex you had with Heejin *reduced her worries about your possible (and very real) attraction to Nana by a lot.
*(Citation, if required:
The girl was on your thigh, a night when Nana and Chan were out. You and Heejin made up an excuse: we’re too tired. It’s a school night. Some shit. The point is that the two of you threaded the circumstances and made it line up to you being alone. No distractions.
Heejin still calls you daddy, and that time was no exception. She was naked from the waist down. Her upper body being clothed in a tight baby tee didn’t make it less sexy. Seeing how the piece of clothing wrapped around her lithe form turned you on already. To add to that, she was riding your thigh, hand on your length. You made the small living room your heaven.
“Fuck,” Heejin whimpered. She chewed on her bottom lips as she rode your thigh, making use of your bounces and your hands on her hips. “Daddy, how’s it that you’re so good even when your dick isn’t inside me?”
You were flattered. Therefore, (and it was the only right thing to do in response to that), you bounced her harder. Let her grind down on your knee and stimulate her clit on the curved edge. She’s a good girl. No past tense for that one. Heejin is always your good girl, and you’re her daddy who spoils her too much. No past tense for that one either. You truly do spoil her too much—you let her drag you in the bathroom when you’re shopping just so she could drop to her knees to suck you off. You buy her expensive brands though you’re sure she makes more money than you. You do too much for her.
Her payment is better than anything you give her. She’s a good little girl who bounces on daddy’s lap and has his cum as milk before bed. Remembering that, you lifted the baby tee up to kiss her nipples. You let a slight chew ride the edges of the brown little area, then sucked hard. It gave you the reaction you wanted, the reaction you craved: Heejin cumming on your thighs. 
Her grip on your cock was too tight and she never stopped jerking you off. You came on each other, bathing skin with love and lust. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.)
Nana’s the more oblivious one. She knows she has you wrapped around her finger, too much in fact that she doesn’t entertain the idea of you liking Heejin, too. *She was eager but scared at first. Now, she fucks you without doubt, without regret.
*(Another citation:
It was after a meaningful talk that she suddenly brought up that “you haven’t fucked me yet, Jay oppa,” she said. Her natural pout made it easier for you to dive into the subject.
“Sure I have,” you replied. “What are you talking about?”
You thought back to the times you fingered her to squirt and put your mouth on her. Nana was always weak for that, and you assumed that was the only way she liked it. That was why you didn’t bother extending it past that.
“Yeah,” said Nana, looking at the night sky from the terrace, “but you haven’t, like, actually put your cock in me. I want to see it! I want it inside me!”
“Alright.” You sat up. “Sure.”
“Huh?” Her cheeks reddened. She didn’t expect that at all.
“What? Let’s do it.”
“I thought you’d be all hesitant or something,” Nana explained shyly. She looked everywhere except your piercing gaze. “I think that’s why I asked. Um… what am I even saying? I want your cock, Jay oppa.”
“Come get it then.” 
You loved seeing Nana so shy and bashful. It was so different from the playful arrogance she sets when she’s around you. She could be so cute sometimes. 
All the time. You still haven’t gotten over what you felt for her. It’s been long since you were adopted by Chan, yet your crush on Nana’s been longer. You think that maybe she does have the same feelings. After all, why would she let you fuck her? But you keep telling yourself you’re making it more complicated than it should be. To keep on Nana’s good side, and out of your own fear, too, you need to fuck her. No sappy feelings mentioned, just the good ol’ rawdogging.
You’re happy about getting to fuck Nana. Still, it isn’t the same as getting to be her boyfriend.
You went on, nonetheless. The first time she sank down on your length, she let out the cutest sound you’d ever heard. Nana was adorable in every way. Her hands scrunched up to her face like a bunny’s would as she shyly let her pussy take in your size. 
“You’re so big,” she said.
“Heard that a couple of times. What’s new?” 
“Asshole.” Nana slapped your shoulder. “You sure I could do it?”
“More than. You’re almost there.”
You tried to act like you were no stranger to this and therefore didn’t care. It was difficult when Nana’s pussy was so closed around your girth that you had to guide her downwards. Her thighs twitched and her moans were higher than they usually were. When you went down on her with your tongue, she always screamed, or when you fingered her under the blanket while watching a movie. This sound from her, a whiny gasp tangled in between a shout and a cry, was new. 
You wanted to become more acquainted with it, for which you started to thrust.
“Fffuck,” she whispered with a wince. Why was the pain good? It wasn’t supposed to work like that. “Jay oppa, that feels really good.”
“Doesn’t hurt anymore?”
“Just a little. Just keep, fffucking. Me. And I’ll be okay.”
You couldn’t help it. You dove in for a kiss. You held her face in your hands as you pumped away inside her. This time, you made sure to be careful. It was the first time you had ever penetrated her. 
It was the one of many times, though, that you made her cum.)
“Jay.”
Deja vu hits you. Or maybe you’ve been substituting grief with it. It’s been almost a year and everything still reminds you of your parents. Jay isn’t exempted from that. You zoned out on him, just like you did to your mother and father. 
It’s your duty to look at him and pay attention. He’s done so much for you already. It’s the least you could do. It’s what you would have done if you’d known that fateful day that your parents would die. “Yeah?”
Chan smiles. “Are you alright?” he asks you. He pushes the tinfoiled chocolates towards you. Dessert is an everyday thing in his house. “We lost you there a little.”
Unwrap one and pop in your mouth. “I’m fine, thanks. What were we talking about?”
“I was saying I got a promotion.”
You smile. Good things happen to good people. “Congrats, hyung!”
“Thanks, Jay! But…” Hesitantly, he continues, “because of that, I’m going on a business trip. I’ll be gone for two days.”
Heejin’s eyes widen theatrically. “Oh no,” she says in faux disappointment, “oh no, daddy.” 
It sounds like she’s addressing you rather than her own real father. More context clues: she’s inched closer to you and has a hand on your thigh. She gives it a nice squeeze, causing you to straighten suddenly. This is the riskiest Heejin has gotten.
Steal a glance at Nana, who sits at the opposite side of the dinner table. She’s staring at the two of you with fire in her eyes. While she’s too cute to be menacing, she still sends a clear message: get Heejin off you now. She can’t bear with her sister being all touchy-feely with you, or having you alone with her. If she didn’t want to save face, she’d have pounced on the table to tear Heejin’s hair out.
And she’s got such a pretty, pretty face to save, doesn’t she?
“D’you think you kids could behave while I’m gone?” Chan asks. He scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, you’re all of age, and it’s technically legal, but if you want me to stay—”
“Oh, daddy, it’s fine!” says Heejin. She looks at you sweetly and raises your joined hands. “Jay oppa and I are good friends! We’ll keep the house clean!”
“What about you, Nana? What do you think?”
Nana’s glowering stare at you and her older sister is prolonged and envious. She truly can’t look intimidating with such an adorable face, but you feel her anger. It’s telepathic how she could sit there in silence and still tell you wordlessly that she’s angry. Furious is probably a better term; you can see flames rise from her eyes.
She swallows and composes herself the best she could. “I’ll be fine,” she says quietly.
Chan asks his daughter if she’s sure, and asks the older girl the same as well. He doesn’t leave you out either. He wants to balance a family and work life properly. Both should hold the same weight on the two pedestals. 
That’s how you end up with him gone for two days, and during the first few minutes of his departure, you and Heejin are kissing each other. Nothing more than that is what you promise. Chastity isn’t the best virtue to go by in terms of happiness, but you attempt with what you could to keep it pure. 
This is where you understand the self-contradiction, for Heejin’s stark naked from the waist and up. You can feel every bit of unclothed flesh beneath your palms. You can be the expeditioner, Heejin could be the map. You’d spread her, map out each bit of pale milky skin in the connection of your two bodies’ threshold. You’d tear her and use her to the point of impurity. 
But as you said: chastity.
It’s not like Heejin’s a saint herself. The skimpy booty shorts grind down on your lap as you kiss in her bedroom. Play with her nipples you will, then also take the time to appreciate her soft thighs. 
“These thighs are fucking amazing, Heekki,” you say. The nickname’s a familiar aftertaste in your mouth now. A delicious one. 
“You want to fuck them, oppa… daddy? What should I call you?”
A hand on the nape of her neck, you lay Heejin down on her bed. “I don’t care. Whichever, just make sure you let me fuck these legs.”
“Oppa it is.” Heejin grins cheekily. She spreads her arms just as much as she tightens her legs together, letting you appreciate the smoothness of her pits and her slim, beautiful arms. Not to disregard the muscles denting the skin, though. “Isn’t it so sexy? I’m fucking my big brother, and my little sister can barge in anytime. It’s so risky, right, Jay oppa?”
Slip your cock between her pressed flesh, and you easily discover that her thighs are as good as they look. Slide in, slide out, and repeat the cycle like a habit of vice. You’d never want to recover. Something could speak to you in the back of your head, urging you to let go of what’s wrong, and you wouldn’t listen. Even if that something was, let’s say, Nana?
Speaking of…
“What’s wrong, Jay oppa?” said girl’s older sister asks, curious about your sudden alarmed look.
You’d say a lot of things to her, now that you have the chance to. Only one comes to mind: “I, I think there’s someone at the—”
“I fucking knew it.”
That’s how it all starts. It begins with the scene that goes like this: Nana stands at the doorway with shock veining red in her eyes. Her hand is firm on the door knob; looks like someone forgot to lock before they fuck. That someone may be you or Heejin. You never know. It’s too late, anyway. Nana already knows.
You’d adlib a lot of things in this situation, too. However, none of them sound plausible. You can’t speak when you feel this odd sense of guilt brimming in the core of your heart. Seeing Nana’s horrified expression, you realize that it’s rooted from you thinking you’ve betrayed her. There’s her, obviously being your childhood crush and the girl you’ve fucked weeks on end, and then there’s you, fucking her sister in the bedroom where she’s supposed to flee for sisterly advice and familial gossip. It’s so incredibly wrong, all of it: your girth being locked between Heejin’s thighs, her obviously enjoying the way the underside of your cock rubs her preyed pussy, and Nana, the other girl you’ve been fucking. The other sister you’re fucking.
“You lying bitch,” spits Nana, glaring at Heejin. Such a word should never escape her mouth when she looks that pure and sweet, but she isn’t what she looks like, sexually speaking. Emotionally speaking. “I’m gonna tell dad, and you’re so fucking screwed.”
“Then I’ll tell him you fucked me, too,” you fire back. Venom laces your words. 
Heejin looks at you in horror. “What?”
Oh no. 
Oh god. 
You definitely should have thought before you spoke. Now, the cat’s out of the bag. The taboo secret you’ve tried to hide for so long from both siblings is out in the open. You can’t lie or fuck your way out of this anymore. It’s not going to work.
Nana catches on a loose thread in her sister. She tugs it to sew back her own pride. “Yeah, that’s right,” she says haughtily, “he fucked me, too. What, you thought you were special or something?”
“Hey.” She’s really going in for the kill. You have to put a stop to it before it escalates: “Let’s all just calm down—”
Heejin turns to you and laughs after a short, bitter little scoff. “No fucking way, Jay.” She drops her legs and kicks you away. Tumble into the bedroom cabinet. “You tricked us.”
She’s right. You’ll admit that because you can’t even deny it yourself. It’s true through and through; you hid two secrets from three people: your sisters and new father. But secrets always come to light, and today just so happens to be the day for your dirty little secrets.
“Yeah,” pipes up Nana. “You wanted to use two girls as your personal cumdumps you could just throw away. You don’t—”
She stops. The older girl is awfully silent and suspicious, though you are for other reasons as well.
“Oh.” She stares at Heejin for a moment, then laughs. The palm she’s placed on her mouth is only there for dramatic effect; she doesn’t bother stifling her smug laughs. “Oh. I see it now.”
“What the hell do you mean?”
Nana walks over with surprising confidence in her steps and wraps her hand around your cock. That’s the last thing you expected her to do. Your moans are a little rougher this time because of that. Nana doesn’t bother stopping to reconsider what she’s doing: jerking off her new brother in front of her sister who shares her own blood and flesh. 
She pouts so pitiably that it could be a genuine emotion if she pleases. “You don’t let him cum inside you, do you, my sweet unnie?” she asks. “That’s right. I know you don’t.”
Heejin’s eyes go all bunny wide. The irony of it all could be entertaining enough for your average telenovela enjoyer. It helps that she plays her role of the shocked and offended domineering sister so well.
But this isn’t a telenovela; this is real life. You’re actually going through this. You can’t turn it off in spite of your desire to. When there’s the yearning inside you to see what more there is to unfold, though, you give in. You don’t say a word to stop the sisterly quarrel. You simply stand there prone to Nana, who jerks you off with an unrestrained anger.
Heejin, who’s used to playing the cruel girl to her sister, finds herself in a position she’s never had to experience: getting the short end of the stick. Getting pierced by the end of the stick. Was her sister’s all-too-true accusation the forbidden apple to the shame she feels out of nowhere for her naked body?
She stutters. You’ve only heard her stutter when you’re fucking her. It’s so strange to hear how she clumsily stumbles over her words in real life where she’s got no escape. “Okay,” she says, giving up, “so I don’t let him cum inside me. So what? It’s not my fault I’m not a slut like you.”
“Oh please,” scoffs Nana. Waving off her sister’s insult is also a first for her. “Tell me something I haven’t heard before. At least I get to feel his warm, thick cum inside me. You’re too scared to even let him fuck you in a position that isn’t missionary.”
“Girls,” you say, in one last futile attempt to calm them down. Do you even want to calm them down? You’re not sure.
Nana pulls you away from her sibling and smiles with such untainted sweetness that it makes you forget she was mad in the first place. Well, she’s still a little mad for what she says next: 
“Come on, oppa. 
“Let me do something for you that she can’t.”
Her shirt becomes a figment of your imagination. You swear it was on a few seconds ago. But now, you see how it is: no bra. Not even a white camisole. Her perky breasts are there for you to toy with. You have multiple choices, actually: her soft tummy and wide hips are there, craving for your attention. Of course you give it to them, in the form of lingering hungry touches. 
Your lips are on hers all of a sudden. It doesn't even take minutes for you to have your mouths and tongues all over each other, licking where you can and kissing till the lust ferments. (Hint: it would never.) There’s an imaginary time limit going on for you and Nana, and so you’re tearing clothes off each other and stealing kisses as fast and as needily as you can. 
It doesn’t take the whole time limit for Heejin to get jealous. “Get off him,” she growls. She kisses your back, the touch sending shivers on your skin. Her nipples push on you. “You like me better, don’t you, daddy? I’m your Heekki, right?”
You don’t know. As of now, you like the other bunny girl better. “We’ll see.”
“‘Daddy’?” Nana giggles. “That all you got, Heejin?”
“Where’s the ‘unnie’?”
“You’re not the unnie unless you prove yourself to be one,” the youngest of the three of you answers in a sickeningly flattering tone. She brushes Heejin’s cheek. “So what’s it gonna be?”
Heejin stammers again. The smarmy and arrogant her is lost in the jealousy she gathers because of Nana pushing you down the bed. When she sees how you react to it with your needy face and hands on her waist, the anger burns inside her harder. 
Still, it surely can’t be the flame of fury that’s making her this hot and bothered, can it?
Nana backs off to present her ass to you. She circles her hips in the air, giving you a show, then places a hand on both of her cheeks. The denim shorts barely cover up the swells of her ass. “Take this off me, please, oppa?” she asks. And it’s so polite that it isn’t really your fault that you give in and tug the messily cut thing she calls shorts down.
“Daddy!” Heejin says in protest. She’s naked as well, but she’s still left out.
“I think I should be the one calling him daddy here,” gloats Nana. She rubs her ass on your cock. It perfectly pleasures the underside of your length. “After all, he’s the one who’s going to put a baby in me. But I’m sure you won’t mind.”
Her panties slide down her legs. And now, she descends.
Down she goes, but she’s only going higher. Your cock splits her pussy open, and it’s just as good as the first time. Nana still brings the same thrill you get when you fuck her hot body. Her bounces are more precise, and she learns to give you more than just the benefit of getting to screw her—she gifts you a show of her bountiful backside unintentionally clapping with the other cheek.
Spank her for that, though you should really reward rather than punish her when she’s only making you feel good. Doesn’t matter; she loves it. She looks back at you and bites her lip sultrily. 
“Fuck,” you groan, “such a good girl, Nana.”
Her moans are perfected with pitch and pleas. Nana’s expressions are timed well with your thrusts and guiding hands on her hips.
“I’m a good girl, too, daddy,” Heejin says softly. She kisses your mouth. “I’ll show you, okay?”
Chan’s eldest daughter climbs on top of your face. You pull off her shorts as well—you welcome all kinds of pleasure here. Nana slams herself down harder, and right on the second you groan due to it, Heejin’s already planted her pussy on your face.
See, these are the thighs you’ve dreamed of. These are the kind that would actually crush your head. Her muscular skin ensures that your head is subjected not only to thick softness. And yes, you’ve eaten Heejin out before, in times when you’d keep her prone on the edge of her bed while you pull orgasm after orgasm out of her with just your tongue, but this time you do it with increased gusto. The sisters’ blended moans sound better than any choir of your choosing. Name a band as well, while you’re at it, and Heejin and Nana’s voices would still outdo their songs.
“Yesss, thank you, daddy!” gasps Heejin. “Oh, mmm, I’m your good little girl. And because you’re my daddy, you should always eat your good girl out.”
“You talk like an attached trophy wife,” Nana remarks with a snortle. That’s not fair on her part; you know how desperate she can get when you’re fucking her, but you can’t really oppose it when Hejein’s muffling your mouth.
The other girl can’t retort either. Your tongue’s too good to her. “Shut up. He likes my pussy more. And he treats it sooo well, don’t you, my daddy? Better than you do Nana?”
Let’s see: well, you don’t know. Both sisters have amazing bodies you’d do any time of the day. You haven’t really given the intensity you submit to them much thought. It’s hard to think now when Heejin’s urgently riding your tongue while Nana rides your cock.
“No answer,” Nana says triumphantly. “I guess he’s biased there.”
“Hmph.”
“The better girl for oppa is the one who doesn’t immediately cum just because he’s touching them. Bet?”
“It’s a bet,” replies Heejin. She really shouldn’t be giving in to a deal she’s sure to lose; you know what the quintessential quiver of her hips mean. Then again, she’s not one to back down from a competition.
It’s kind of entertaining to see the differences between the two girls. It counts back then as well. It’s like they switched personalities with how the other fits the former just as well. Nana’s not afraid to use you. She rides you at a lightning-impulsed pace, rocking your cock with a tightness you’ll never forget. Her cries are wrapped with weak gasps. On the other hand, there’s Heejin, who’s still used to being the submissive little girl to you when it’s nothing close to her real cocky attitude out of the bedroom, who’s still afraid to use you. Oh, don’t forget her moans—their depth and groany tinge make your cock throb. Too bad it’s inside Nana.
(It’s actually not that bad at all; the pulsing and twitching cause Nana to shake deliciously. Her slow, meaningful grinds bring you to life.)
Hence, you’re fucking Heejin with your tongue faster, with no care for the juices that slide down your chin and the sides of your mouth. Her clit bumps your nose. It’s an advantage you take—you push and pull her back and forth to get her shivering whenever her precious pearl hits the tip of your nose.
Nana isn’t left out of the equation either. Push your lower body upwards so that your tip meets the end of her pussy. Shimmy them so that it rubs her walls. She gasps girlishly and soon finds out that she isn’t made for the fight she started with her sister. She’s chosen to fight the wrong battle.
“I’m close,” she whimpers. Her eyes are sealed shut. “You’re too good, oppa.”
“M-me too!” Heejin says. Her voice is on the brink of a yell. Sloppily suck her clit and she’s past that. “Daddy, daddy, daddy, keep licking me like that, oh!”
“Shit… Jay oppa!”
You’re soaked on both ends. Try to clean up Heejin’s stream of cum the best you could and pump Nana’s slick out of her. In the midst of everything, you don’t stop. You want to keep hearing the girls’ beautiful cries of pleasure. 
“God, enough, daddy,” begs the shaking Heejin. She’s slapping her own breasts, lip bloodied under her teeth. “I want to cum on your cock, too.”
A better premise. “Sure.”
“Wait.” Nana stops the two of you. “Who came first?”
Heejin turns away with pink cheeks. 
Nana’s known her all her life, so she reads that look better than anyone else could. “Of course you did.” She rolls her eyes. “You don’t deserve to sit on his cock.”
“I do…” Her eyes are glossy. Her desperation really doesn’t go away with shame. If she were to be honest, it’s the shaming that deepens it. “But please, daddy, please—”
“Fine. Let’s ask oppa what he wants us to do. We’ll see who’s the better girl for him”
You can’t recognize Nana anymore. You know how big of a sub she can get, yet you didn’t realize how rough she can be as a dominant party in the bedroom. With how she orders around her sister and you, you’d think it’s a usual thing for her. Maybe it is. 
“Nana-ya,” Heejin says, trying to bring the tone she lorded over her little sister with back. It ends up weak—it’s to no avail.
“Do it,” Nana tells her with a pitch of finality. “Ask him.”
“Fuck,” the other bunny girl says nervously. She swallows, then turns to you. You’re just as on the edge as she is. “Daddy, what do you want us to do?”
You have plenty of situations you could make them turn into reality. Some even cross the line. There are already plenty of boundaries you’ve soared past. You just have to choose one out of the many fantasies you have because now that you’re looking back at the chaos of it all, you wanted this to happen. You wanted them to find out. There’s a fucked up voice inside you that insists on becoming riskier, becoming more careless. It’s supposed to be blocked out.
Still and all, there’s Heejin and Nana beside you on the bed, with their shared pouty lips and eyes glistening with want. Said distinct, glossy features give you an idea.
“Suck my cock,” you say finally. In other settings that would have been a grave insult to the average middle school outcast. For Heejin and Nana, it’s the word of a deity himself.
Both girls don’t waste precious time on questioning if two sisters sucking their new adopted brother’s cock is morally right or not. What matters above all is that their lips decorate your length. It’s like they’re determined to give it a bath. It’s the only way you know how to explain it when Heejin’s round, doll-like eyes stare in awe at her sister running her lips up and down the sideless shape of your cock and your sensitive slit. Shiver on the occasion she licks there. Nana knows how to take cock as much as she’s learned into the art of fucking your face. It goes both ways here, you see. You wouldn’t have thought she was the one who was just recently a virgin.
Heejin leaves the tougher things to the expert. While she’s the one who first sucked your cock between the two of them, it’s clear that Nana’s better at this. She can hear your ragged moans. She remains determined to please you. She kisses your heavy balls, sucking on the prickled skin on each and licking at them lovingly.
“Fuck… Heekki…”
That’s a sign for Nana to up her game. She glares at you, and it’s everything but subtle. She throws out all the anger she’s held in her heart after the PDA you put on with Heejin recently onto sucking your cock. Her throat is tight and her mouth is warm as your cock enters and exits, stabbing through the breaths for air that never quite make it to her lungs. She doesn’t mind losing air. She does, actually, but she’s quite more focused on getting your attention back on her.
Heejin doesn’t let up on the competition. Like you said, she isn’t the type of girl to back down from a challenge. Whatever she competes at she’ll give it her all. She might have lost and came earlier than expected just a few minutes ago, sure, but she’s a competitive girl. She always wants to be on top. Or if not, underneath you. 
That’s why her lips alternate between your testicles. Bite your lip to suppress yourself from tugging her hair. It doesn’t work; your hand ends up sifted in her hair and tugging so that her nose pressed on your pubic patch. From there she has to take in your musky scent and have the precum from your tip drip down the side of her face.
“We’re being good girls, Heejin,” Nana says after pulling away from your cock. 
“You’re not too bad yourself,” the older one of them admits. She licks the underside of your base teasingly, sending a gasp and a sudden shot of cum out of you. “What d’you think, daddy?”
They seem to not have noticed that you orgasmed a bit. They keep lapping and kissing your cock like nothing could compare to it. No piece of arcade candy or slice of cake could match the taste of your cock. They feast on it, the little devils they are—Heejin decides to take a turn at swallowing your cock whole and succeeds while Nana kisses your thighs. You’re sensitive all over, and they have no signs of stopping. They’ll keep suckling and licking all day if you don’t conquer control again.
Therefore: get up like your latest orgasm didn’t occur. 
“On your stomach. On the bed. Now.”
Soon they’re scrambling to follow your orders. Aren’t they always? Their butts are in front of you side by side. They say sisters have a lot in common—for this situation, it’s the wetness rolling droplets down their luscious thighs and the two replicas of the same, passive look as they turn their heads to you. They’re waiting for your next command.
You don’t give any. It’s all on you now.
Push yourself inside Heejin’s slick pussy. Perhaps she deserves to be fucked, like she says. So don’t bother to extract lengthy inches and just fire short, driven thrusts. Spank Nana to keep her occupied. Her moans are as sweet as her sister’s, much more when you finger her.
Tandem and might. They’re foreign concepts to you since you weren’t a sporty kind of kid. You still find yourself taking all those out on the two girls. You position yourself so that you’re able to pump fast into Heejin while keeping the deep thrusts going while curling your fingers into Nana’s weak spots. 
“That’s not fair, Jay oppa,” she tells you, face buried into the sheets. It’s lucky that you even get to make out a fraction of her words. “I was the one being good.”
“Maybe he just likes me more,” quips Heejin wittily. It’s a lost sound when you punish her with a pronounced pump. Little do you know that she’d find it hot. “Fuck yes, you’re amazing, daddy.”
She gives up on trying to keep her head raised. She drops it and groans with the bed muffling the way of her voice. Who could have ever found out that the tuck of her bottom lip under her teeth, an action so simple, could fruit such lust inside you?
“Of course you’re being good, Nana. Only good girls get bred.”
They don’t get what you mean until you pull out of Heejin and slip into the sister you mentioned. Nana’s back curves beautifully and she sighs as she’s filled to the point of overflow with your hot and sticky cum. You slap her ass hard, leaving a red trace of your hand on her cheek. She grinds seductively into your cock burying itself to the depths of her pussy.
“Noooo,” sobs Heejin, green with envy. “Please, gah, just let me have your cum. I promise I’ll let you cum inside me all the time. Can do it even with my dad watching, or Nana, just please—”
“Desperate little slut. Will you let my naughty big sister have what she wants, oppa?”
In one way or another, Heejin always gets what she wants. She could be the one underneath you, sure, and she’d remain the benefactor.
Such is the beauty of having her cum beautifully and instantly on your fingers after you finger out some cum from Nana’s pussy into hers.
-
Chan never does find out what the white on Heejin’s bed is from. Is it from a girl’s problem that isn’t too known? He doesn’t know. It might be glue. Whatever. He’s not that well-versed into feminine problems, so he simply assumes those are the source of them. 
He also doesn’t know why the sisters suddenly don’t fight anymore. It’s a well-kept secret that you’ve made a pact with them, told them that you could be theirs as long as they kiss you and don’t tell. It works well to keep the sisters in line, and it’s beneficial for Chan, too. He doesn’t have to pacify repeated arguments anymore.
So far the peace in your new home is maintained. The bedroom is exempted.
Obviously. 
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ellieluvr420 · 10 months ago
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wife Abby headcanons xoxo
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-You met at a bar when your friend cancelled on you last minute, she offered to buy you a drink and you chatted at the bar until she invited you back to hers, this was back when you were 22 and she was 25 so her flat was more modest but still well decorated and clean. You both shared a bottle of wine and sat and spoke more for hours until you were both so drunk you started doing karaoke together by watching youtube videos on her TV, she invited you out to an actual karaoke bar as your second date and she only fell even more in love with you the more she saw you.
-I think she would work in corporate like a lawyer or investment banker or something so I think she would try and work from home as much as they would let her.
-She looks so funny when she works from home too because she wears work clothes on her top half for her zoom calls but then she would be wearing pj bottoms and her slippers on her bottom half.
-Such a victim of Apple's marketing, always insists she needs the newest phone or whatever they had brought out, she has the watch, the phone, an ipad, an imac, macbook pro, airpod pros and airpod max's. Literally everything they sell because she's actually a tech geek at heart.
"I totally need it."
"Give me one reason you need an iPad Abigail."
"...I don't know, it's just cool."
You roll your eyes at her but chuckle at her insistence as you press a small kiss to her pouty lips. She smiles at you and looks like a child on Christmas day as she orders her new toy.
-She would so wear the airpod max's while working out and i think she'd always have one of those gallon water bottles that she'd take everywhere with her.
"Babe please just let me buy you one, trust me it will make you drink so much more water."
"No it won't, do not waste your money seriously." She'd huff at your stubbornness and go and buy you one anyway.
-I think she would workout at night or during the day if she can fit it in which rarely happens because she enjoys her mornings with you where you guys cuddle and chat and have breakfast together before she goes to work or gets started in the home office
-Does majority of the cooking because she really enjoys it and is also a chef, like she whips up three course meals so regularly like its nothing.
-You try and make dinner together on the weekends which equates to her micromanaging you until she gets too stressed watching you mess up and does it herself while you sit on the counter entertaining her.
-She always goes to sleep as big spoon and always wakes up as little spoon, every night, without failure. Also loves to lay on your stomach with her arms around your waist, one of her fav cuddling positions.
-She's the kind of person to ignore and persevere through a cold until she literally passes out and will get mad at you when you have to force her to rest but once she's comfy and has accepted she's ill she's such a baby.
-She would be so good with kids and they would all love her too like when you would go to family gatherings together all the kids would always be glued to her pulling her every which way
-loves dogs and cats and wants two of each
-loves home date nights where you cook together and watch films or play games whether its board, video or card games. Once you bought a fake police file and tried to figure out who the murderer was, it ended in a huge argument because you couldn't agree on who it was, you were so annoyed you made her sleep on the sofa but in the middle of night she sauntered back into your room and climbs into bed cuddling into you.
"Sorry babe, you were right." She kisses your forehead and you smile as you both go to sleep happily, Abby had managed to find the answer online but she didn't tell you that you were in fact wrong, she would rather be in bed cuddling you than prove she was right.
-I think she would want 3 kids, preferably boy, girl, boy or vice versa but she would be happy with any kids.
-If/when kids come along she starts working from home primarily and you watch them grow together.
-She would eventually want to move away from the city where she lived for an easy commute to work to a beautiful house in the country with large fields behind a huge back garden where the dogs and cats, and ducks all play with the kids.
-She would love reading crime thriller books but she also has a guilty pleasure for romance and sometimes she'll sit in bed with you and read you parts of the books. Can imagine older Abby refusing to get reading glasses because that makes her officially old but she’s literally holding the book as far as it will go and squinting so hard and she still can’t read it, you eventually give in and read it to her which only motivates her to not get glasses more because this was a way better option.
-Loves Family Guy, American Dad, South Park, all those kind of shows but if you put on a drama she'll grumble and then be hooked.
"Oh my god, oh my god, are you fucking kidding me? Noooooooo." Abby yells at the screen as she watches the season 1 finale of vampire diaries with you, you had started rewatching it as it was nostalgic and she made fun of you so much until you forced her to watch the episode you were watching.
Like I could so see her watching greys anatomy and sobbing when there's a major character death
-Goes to get mani pedis with you and she'll always get her nails painted to match the colour of yours even when you'd pick super bright to mess with her she'd get it without batting an eye.
-Of course she gets along super well with all your friends and family, sometimes you think they love her more than you 😀
okay that's all I got for now but I will probs do way more once the series is finished :))
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turtle-taetell · 2 months ago
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goodbye Mersmp
Super long message below!! (Funny story!)
and a message to the CCs at the end! <3
This is a piece that means so much to me. 21 months ago the designs for Theo and Faye got released. That day, i drew them! On paper with the supplies I had laying around, in a sketchbook smaller than my hand. At this point I was proud of my art but still very nervous about it. I had no idea how to draw them. I struggled a lot.
The second time I drew it, a year had passed. I felt I had been able to grow a lot as an artist and was excited to show how much I improved, so I redrew it! I loved how the lineart turned out and was so so excited to see the finished piece! But guess what? I hated it. I colored it in and still hate it to the point that I don’t even have the final version saved to my phone. It makes me feel ashamed.
But now, Mersmp has come to a close and the characters I have grown to care about so deeply have gotten their happy ending. So I wanted to give this piece that as well.
And finally, I think I can finally say I did.
I started drawing this final piece as soon as I was able to screenshot their epilogue designs. I was determined to make it right. So I sat down and drew, and drew, and drew, only taking an hour break to have dinner with a friend (don’t be like me). Finally, at 3am, eleven hours later, I was satisfied.
In this final piece are things that show just how tired I was. There are countless freckles on both characters, even under their scales! That’s a lot of dots. But wait… not the smallest. If you zoom in close enough they have pores! Much smaller than their freckles. That’s really a lot of dots! My freckle brush must have really come in clutch, right? WRONG! I dont have a freckle brush! All of this was done with one single smooth brush and I made Every. Single. Dot. Individually. That must have been pretty hard on my stylus, right? ONCE AGAIN WRONG! I don’t have a stylus! All of this was done on Ibis Paint x, a free art program, on an old janky ipad I got for free because it was so broken, all drawn with my finger. Even if I got a stylus, my ipad is too old to connect to any of them, including apple pencils.
The moral of this story is to never give up and not to let your resources limit your creativity. It doesn’t matter what medium you use, just do something to learn and keep pushing to improve. You will get there. Despite everything, you can do it.
And to the Mermp crew: Thank you for everything you have done. Through the story you have told and the community you have built, you have helped myself and others to grow in many ways. I myself learned a lot from Theo, learning that I do in fact go nonverbal at times and that does not mean there is anything wrong, and that I can feel conflicted and unsure about gender and expression. I learned I don’t need to be fixed. Just like I have now learned to look at the first redraw. I may not like it, but it is an expression of who I was at the time. Similar to Cella and Bite. Those characters may not like what they did in the past, but they are able to look back and recognize that it made them who they are today. If I always was proud of my first redraw, I may have never pressed myself to make this third one as beautiful. Thank you for the stories and lessons you have shared with us and allowing us to grow along side you and your characters.
And maybe, one day, a year or so from now, I can return to this and redraw it again, seeing what other things I enjoy in the future and how they may shape me to change.
With love, Turtle.
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bruhnze · 1 month ago
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PLAYING FOR KEEPS
CHAPTER 4 – Attraction
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Summary: Ona Batlle has had a crush on Lucy Bronze for a little while now… how will it go when she joins Barça? A 10 chapter series.
Warnings: Slow burn, angst, fluff, smut. All the things, but I give this as a complete warning for the whole series. Not every chapter involves all the warnings :).
masterlist
October 5, 2023: vs. Valencia CF (6-0, home) October 8, 2023: vs. Real Sociedad (3-0, home) October 15, 2023: vs. Atlético Madrid (1-0, away)
It had been a few weeks since that night. The first night she and Lucy had been together in one bed. When Ona had been cuddled up against someone who made her feel far more than she'd ever admit. And it hadn’t been a one-time thing. During the next away game, they’d ended up sleeping like that again. Twice. Both nights they stayed there, the warmth of Lucy’s body against hers, the steady rise and fall of her breathing, had become something Ona looked forward to happening again.
Ona kept repeating to herself that it was just for comfort, for both of them. They were teammates, they were friends. Just sharing a bed for some cuddles, falling into comfortable silence after a day of travel or matches, it didn’t mean anything. But no matter how much she told herself that, she couldn’t help the excitement building inside her as another away game approached.
After two successful games at home, Ona’s focus wasn’t entirely on the field anymore. She had played well, maybe even better than usual, but beneath it all, she had caught herself enjoying Lucy’s company more and more. There was no denying it. She enjoyed how they teased each other, how they joked together, how they pushed one another to be better during practice. Even the coach had complimented them on how well they worked together.
Now, it was the morning of the trip. Ona was deep in thought as she stood in her apartment, unable to stop herself from feeling eager about the journey to Atlético Madrid. The game wasn’t until the end of the week, but today marked the start of their trip. They would travel early so they could rest and train there before the match.
She was going to meet Lucy in a few minutes to drive to the stadium together. From there, the team would have a short flight to Madrid, followed by a light training session at the fields near the stadium where the game would take place.
Ona glanced at the time on her phone. Almost time to go. She felt that familiar flutter in her stomach, the same one that seemed to arise every time she was about to see Lucy. Over the past few weeks, she had tried to ignore it, to shove it down and act like everything was fine. But it was getting harder. Lucy’s smiles, the way she teased Ona without ever seeming to notice how it made her heart race. It was too much sometimes. Ona was happy to have built up such a good friendship, but the closeness was also hard. A little painful maybe even. She was so close to having something she knew she’d never have.
Pulling her suitcase to the door, Ona couldn’t stop her mind from wandering back to that last away trip. The way Lucy had casually draped an arm around her as they watched a match of some other football club in their hotel room on Lucy´s iPad, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And then, later, when they had gotten ready for bed, it was like they didn’t even need to talk about it. They just curled up together. She could remember waking up with Lucy’s breath warm against the back of her neck like it had happened a few minutes ago.
And now, with this trip ahead, Ona could feel the excitement building again. She knew she was being ridiculous. Lucy was Lucy. Funny, playful, but most of all seemingly oblivious to anything happening beyond a friendship. But for Ona, those nights they shared were becoming something more. She had conflictive thoughts about how ethical all of this was towards Lucy. If she knew someone had a raging crush on her she´d definitely wouldn´t hold them so close, and definitely wouldn´t be wearing only some underwear.
Ona felt a little bit bad and definitely a little dirty about it, but the images she´d gathered from sharing rooms would make a regular appearance when she would have some alone time. But for some reason she felt ten times better then when she used to hold Lucy´s Instagram open, that used to bring a lot of anxiety for a stupid accidental like.
The team had arrived in Madrid, dropped off their bags, and gone through a pre-training routine. This time the schedule had been treatment, stretching, then Ona had had bit of downtime in the hotel room. But despite the team being together for most things, Ona hadn’t seen much of Lucy since they arrived. It was almost like she’d disappeared.
Now, everyone was in the dressing room, the team getting ready for field training. The mood was light, there was a familiar buzz of matchday -1 excitement as players chatted and prepped themselves, pulling on socks and tying boots. Ona sat quietly in front of her locker, her thoughts drifting as she laced up her shoes, listening only half-heartedly to the conversations around her.
Just then, the door Ona had been keeping an eye on, opened again. Lucy walked in. Ona looked at her surprised. Lucy’s usual bright and smiley demeanor was missing, replaced with a slight frown. She tossed her boots down with more force than usual, her movements quick and a little tense as she began putting on her training kit.
Ona watched from her spot, noticing how Lucy avoided looking at anyone, her jaw clenched. The rest of the team didn’t seem to pay much attention, continuing their own routines, slowly trickling out the dressing room one by one as they finished getting ready.
Patri and Bruna were the last to leave, still mid-conversation as they headed for the door. “You coming, Ona?” Patri asked, glancing back at her.
“I’ll be there in a sec,” Ona replied, her gaze still lingering on Lucy. She had been pretending to tie her boots for maybe 10 minutes already.
Once the door closed behind them, Ona hesitated for a moment before standing up and quietly making her way over. Lucy was sitting on the bench, still fiddling with her boots, her shoulders tense. Ona could feel the unease radiating from her. Without thinking much about it, she sat down beside Lucy.
“Hey,” Ona said softly, laying a hand on Lucy’s back. “What’s going on?”
For a moment, Lucy didn’t respond, her focus still on the boots in her hands. But then she sighed, her shoulders slumping as if she was finally letting go of some invisible weight. “It’s nothing,” she muttered, but her voice wavered just enough for Ona to know it was a lie.
“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Ona said gently, leaning in a little closer.
Lucy’s hand stilled, her fingers tightening around the laces. “It’s just... my knee,” she finally admitted, her voice low, almost reluctant. “It’s been bothering me again.”
Ona’s heart squeezed a little at the confession. She knew how much Lucy prided herself on pushing through pain, how much she hated admitting when something was wrong. “Is it bad?” Ona asked, her tone soft with concern.
Lucy shook her head quickly. “Not physically. It doesn’t hurt too bad. It’s... it’s more the way I feel about it than the actual pain.” She reached into her bag and pulled out the knee strap she had been wearing off and on during the season. Her fingers hovered over it for a second before she dropped it onto the floor with a small thud. “I have to wear that stupid thing again.”
Ona looked at the strap and then back at Lucy, her expression softening. “Aww, come on,” she said, her voice light but warm, trying to lift the mood a little. “Let me help.”
Before Lucy could protest, Ona was already kneeling in front of her, picking up the knee strap. Lucy blinked, surprised by the sudden gesture, but she didn’t say anything, just watched as Ona carefully positioned the strap around her knee. ‘’This side right?’’
Lucy nodded, watching Ona attentively.
Ona worked quietly, her fingers gently securing the Velcro, adjusting it with a focus that made Lucy’s breath catch. She didn’t realize how good of a friend Ona was until now - how careful, how thoughtful she was being. For a moment, the tension in her body eased, but then, almost out of nowhere, Lucy felt a sudden sting of emotion rising in her chest. She blinked, trying to push it back, but her eyes betrayed her, filling with tears.
“Hey,” Ona said softly, her fingers pausing on the last strap as she looked up at Lucy, her eyes filled with concern.
Lucy quickly wiped at her cheeks, embarrassed by the tears. “I don’t even know why I’m crying,” she mumbled, her voice rough.
“It’s okay,” Ona said quietly, she was leaning with a hand on each of Lucy’s thighs, leveling their faces trying to catch Lucy’s gaze. “It’s frustrating, I get it.”
Just then, the door slammed open. Ona and Lucy both turned their heads to see Bruna standing in the doorway, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of them. “Oh, uhhh... I was just getting my shin guards, I forgot them.” Bruna stammered awkwardly, glancing between them.
Ona stood up, her hands falling to her sides as Lucy quickly wiped at her face again, standing up to grab her boots. Bruna, sensing the mood, quickly grabbed her gear from her locker and slipped out with a hurried, “See you out there.”
The door closed, leaving them in silence again. Lucy took a deep breath, her hand resting on the strap now securely in place around her knee. She glanced down at Ona, a small, tired smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Thanks,” she said, her voice soft.
Ona smiled back, standing up and grabbing her own boots. “Anytime,” she replied, her tone light but sincere. “Now, come on. Let’s go train.”
Together, they headed out to join the team on the pitch.
...
At the beginning of training, the team always gathered on the field to stretch. Everyone had seemingly started already, Lucy and here were the last ones on the field.
Normally, Ona would pair up with Aitana for these exercises, but today, Bruna had apparently insisted on stretching with her instead. She called Ona over. They stood a little away from the others, quietly looping the elastic bands around their legs as they began their warm-up.
Bruna shot Ona a quick glance as they moved in sync, stretching the bands with steady resistance. After a few beats of silence, she finally asked, keeping her voice low, “So... can I ask what that was? You and Lucy in the dressing room earlier?”
Ona hesitated for a moment, knowing exactly what Bruna was referring to. She’d seen her walk in while she and Lucy had been standing close, too close maybe. “Oh,” Ona said, trying to sound casual.
“Yeah, of course, you can ask.” She paused, pulling the band a little tighter. “It was to do about Lucy’s knee... it’s been bothering her again. She was just frustrated about it.”
Bruna gave a small nod, her brow furrowing slightly as she thought about it. “Right... I could tell something was off,” she murmured, glancing toward Lucy, who was stretching with a few of the other girls not too far away.
They both fell quiet again, focusing on their stretches for a few minutes, but Bruna wasn’t done. As they switched legs, she looked back at Ona with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. “You two... you’re getting really close, huh?”
Ona’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her face neutral, trying not to let too much show. “Yeah,” she replied with a small smile, keeping her tone light. “She’s becoming a really good friend.”
Bruna didn’t say anything for a second, just nodded as if she was processing Ona’s answer. Then, with a knowing smile, she nudged her lightly with her elbow. “That’s nice. Lucy seems nice.’’
Ona’s smile faltered for just a split second before she nodded again, a soft “Yeah, she is,” slipping from her lips.
Bruna chuckled. ‘’A really good right back too, maybe she can teach you.”
At that Ona pushed Bruna, ‘’Oh shut up.’’ She chuckled.
As they finished their stretches, Bruna let the topic drop, and they rejoined the others, but the weight of Bruna’s words lingered in Ona’s mind, her thoughts swirling around the idea that maybe their closeness wasn’t going unnoticed after all. She was afraid everyone could notice from miles away that she had a crush on Lucy.
October 15
The day after their 1-0 win against Atlético Madrid had come to a close. They had completed their recovery session, shared a team dinner, and now, at midnight, they were ready for bed. Tomorrow morning, they’d fly back to Barcelona.
“What are you smiling about?” Lucy asked, her voice soft but her tone clearly curious.
“I’m just happy you felt good playing,” Ona smiled back, trying to keep her tone casual. “I heard you talking to the physio,” she added quickly, “sorry, I wasn’t eavesdropping. I just overheard.”
“It’s okay, I’m happy too,” Lucy chuckled. “Didn’t know your happiness was based on mine as well.”
Ona felt her face heat up, shrugging as she tried to play it cool. “Of course.”
“So... are we cuddling again or sleeping apart?” Lucy asked with a raised eyebrow, the casualness of her tone making Ona’s heart flutter.
Ona glanced at her, trying to keep her expression neutral, though inside she was screaming. "Whatever you like," she replied, trying to stay calm even though her mind was racing. She had been looking forward to this. The nights they'd spent curled up together had been the best part of her live since she’d joined this club again, and the thought of more made her feel warm all over.
“I’d like it,” Lucy smiled, eyes softening. “Am I coming to yours, or are you joining me?”
Ona didn’t hesitate. She was already on her feet before Lucy had finished the question.
Lucy laughed lightly, holding the covers up as Ona slipped under them with her. The small lamp on the nightstand flicked off, casting the room into the familiar quiet darkness. Out of habit, Ona nestled half on top of Lucy, just like they’d done before. It felt natural, almost like it was meant to be.
“Hmmm,” Lucy hummed as Ona buried her face in the curve of her neck. “I really like our cuddles too.” Her hand began tracing soothing circles on Ona’s back, the warmth of her touch sending pleasant shivers down Ona’s spine.
Ona’s heart thudded in her chest as she nuzzled against Lucy’s warm skin. She smelled so good, Ona thought, her senses overwhelmed by the closeness. She wanted to kiss the skin, feel the softness of Lucy’s lips. No, she tried to steady herself. It’s just cuddles... just comfort. But the sensation of Lucy’s hand slipping under her shirt, skin on skin, changed everything for her. It wasn’t just comforting anymore. It started to feel different, more intimate and suddenly, she was all too aware of how their bodies fit together.
Her breath hitched when she realized the pressure of Lucy’s thigh between her own. She shifted, trying to pull back slightly, her mind a swirl of confusion and want.
But Lucy’s arm tightened around her waist. “No, don’t leave,” Lucy murmured, her voice almost a plea. “I’m comfy.”
Ona chuckled softly, her tension melting a little.
She pressed her face back into the crook of Lucy’s neck and, without thinking, planted a soft kiss there. “Okay,” she whispered against her skin.
Lucy shifted beneath her. “Or... are you not comfy?” she asked, pulling her hand away gently.
“No, I am,” Ona hummed, almost instinctively placing another kiss, lingering a little longer this time. “Really comfy.” She took in the taste of Lucy’s skin, the scent of Lucy entering her nose.
Lucy, Lucy, Lucy. It was all her mind could come up with. Fuck, she really needed to get it together.
Lucy was quiet for a minute before asking softly, “Then why did you want to move?” It was a question but in some way it sounded like a challenge.
Ona froze, feeling the weight of the question. She didn’t have a good answer. Or rather, not one she was ready to say out loud. Why did she? Was she afraid? Nervous? The truth was, she wasn’t sure she could control herself anymore, not when they were this close. After a long pause, she sat up, straddling Lucy’s hips before she could second-guess herself.
Lucy blinked up at her, a mix of surprise and amusement. “What are you-”
Ona leaned down, her lips brushing against Lucy’s, barely touching. “Tell me to stop,” she whispered, her voice almost trembling.
Please, stop me if you don’t want this, she thought desperately, though every inch of her hoped Lucy wouldn’t. “Stop me if you don’t want this,” she repeated, barely audible, feeling Lucy’s breath on her lips.
For a second, there was silence. Lucy’s eyes were wide, startled maybe, but there was no resistance. No sign she wanted Ona to pull back. And that was all the encouragement Ona needed.
She pressed a tentative kiss to Lucy’s lips. A soft, experimental nip on her bottom lip before pulling away again, her heart racing so fast she thought Lucy might hear it.
She sat back slightly, her chest rising and falling as if she’d run a marathon.
Lucy sat up slowly, her eyes locked on Ona, cheeks flushed.
“Where did I deserve that?” she asked, her voice breathy, a hint of a grin forming. Their faces now inches apart.
Ona hesitated, her gaze flicking to Lucy’s lips and back to her eyes, trying to read her. She.. liked it? Ona realized, her own lips curving into a careful smile.
Their faces were inches apart now, and before Ona could think too much, Lucy leaned in. This time, Ona didn’t hold back, answering the kiss with all the emotion she’d been bottling up for weeks, months, years.
As Lucy deepened the kiss, Ona’s breath caught in her throat. Her mind was spinning, every nerve in her body on high alert, but it wasn’t overwhelming. It was intoxicating. She could feel Lucy’s hands sliding up her sides, resting just below her ribs, fingers pressing gently, grounding her in the moment.
Ona leaned in closer, her hands slipping around the back of Lucy’s neck as their kiss deepened further. Her body was reacting without her even thinking about it, the heat between them palpable. She could feel the way Lucy’s breath hitched every time their lips met, how her hands tightened on her waist, pulling her a little closer each time.
Instinctively, Ona shifted, her hips brushing against Lucy’s as she moved. The friction sent a spark through her, and she gasped softly into the kiss. She froze for a moment, her heart pounding as she realized what she had done. But Lucy didn’t pull away. Instead, her hands slid lower, resting at the curve of Ona’s hips as if encouraging her to continue.
Ona hesitated, her lips parting from Lucy’s just enough to catch her breath. Is this okay? The thought flashed briefly through her mind, but the way Lucy’s fingers pressed into her hips, the soft murmur of her own name on Lucy’s lips, erased any doubt.
Slowly, she began to move again, her hips rocking against Lucy’s, carefully at first, then with more confidence as she felt Lucy’s body respond beneath her. The soft fabric of their clothes barely separated them, but it was enough to let Ona feel every shift, every movement, the friction sending jolts of warmth through her.
Ona’s hands trembled slightly as she took one of Lucy’s, guiding it between their bodies with slow, deliberate movements. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing as the weight of what was happening settled over her. But there was no hesitation—just an intense, overwhelming need.
The sensation of Lucy’s hand slipping under her waistband sent a shiver through her body. Ona gasped softly, burying her face in the crook of Lucy’s neck, her breath warm against her skin. She bit down on her lip, trying to stay quiet as Lucy’s fingers started to explore, tracing slow, teasing paths that made her body pulse with heat.
The touch of Lucy’s fingers sliding through her arousal was enough to make Ona groan, a breathless sound that echoed between them. She felt like she was unraveling, like every nerve in her body was on fire.
“Fuck, you’re wet,” Lucy breathed, her voice low and rough, the surprise and desire evident in her tone.
Ona lifted her hips slightly, positioning Lucy’s hand where she wanted it most. "Because of you," she whispered, her voice unsteady as her lips brushed Lucy's ear, the closeness amplifying everything between them. She let out a soft, desperate moan as Lucy’s fingers finally pressed against her entrance, the sensation sending sparks through her body. "Every time I see you in your underwear like this..." she groaned, her words dissolving into another gasp as Lucy’s thick fingers, the ones she had thought about so many times, slipped inside her.
The tight, exquisite pressure made Ona’s whole body tense for a moment, her breath catching in her throat. She pressed her forehead to Lucy’s shoulder, breathing heavily as she adjusted to the feeling. It was better than she’d imagined—better than all the nights spent wanting this, thinking about what it would feel like to finally have Lucy touch her this way.
Lucy’s other hand moved to hold Ona’s waist, steadying her as she began to move again, the rhythm of their bodies syncing naturally. Ona couldn’t think straight anymore; every thought, every sensation, every ounce of her focus was on the way Lucy’s fingers filled her, stroked her, the slow, steady pressure making her moan softly against Lucy’s skin.
Lucy swallowed hard, her breathing shallow as she pressed her fingers deeper. “You feel so good,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire.
Ona could barely respond, her body taking over, grinding against Lucy’s hand as the pleasure built steadily inside her. She clung to Lucy’s shoulders, nails digging in slightly as her hips moved instinctively, chasing the feeling she’d been longing for. The sound of Lucy’s breathing, ragged and heavy in her ear, only made her want more.
Ona’s lips found Lucy’s neck again, placing soft, messy kisses as she let herself get lost in the sensations. The way Lucy’s fingers moved inside her, the way her body responded to every touch, every thrust. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, as she felt herself getting closer to the edge.
“Lucy…” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her body tensed, trembling with the pressure that was building, threatening to spill over at any moment.
Lucy responded by curling her fingers, hitting that perfect spot inside her. With a few more minutes Ona’s world exploded in a rush of pleasure. She moaned loudly, burying her face in Lucy’s neck as her body shook with the force of her release, her hips stuttering as she rode out the waves of ecstasy.
For a moment, everything was hazy, nothing but the sound of their breathing and the pounding of Ona’s heart in her ears.
Slowly, she came down from the high, her body still trembling slightly as she collapsed against Lucy, exhausted but satisfied. Lucy carefully laid back down on her back, her arms wrapped around Ona, holding her close, her fingers now gently tracing soothing patterns on Ona’s back.
Ona smiled weakly, her face still pressed into Lucy’s neck. “You’re... good at that,” she whispered, her voice soft and breathless, still trying to process everything that had just happened, her body still humming from the intensity of it all.
Lucy chuckled quietly, the sound vibrating through her chest and into Ona. “Thank you,” she murmured, her tone light but warm.
Ona hesitated, feeling a wave of shyness wash over her. She leaned back slightly, her eyes meeting Lucy’s. “I-I’m sorry about that,” she stammered, her confidence shaken by the vulnerability of the moment.
“Why?” Lucy frowned, confused for a second, before her expression dropped, a hint of worry crossing her face. “Oh... regret? You regret doing this with me?” she asked softly, her voice suddenly uncertain.
“No, no!” Ona rushed to clarify, her heart clenching at the thought of Lucy misunderstanding. She reached out, her hands resting on Lucy’s shoulders as she tried to make her feelings clear. “I really liked this. I think you’re so hot. I’m just... I’m sorry if it felt like I used you?” Her voice faltered, uncertainty creeping in as she struggled to find the right words.
Lucy’s chuckle was soft but reassuring as she reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from Ona’s flushed face. “Used me?” she echoed with a smile. “You gave me more than enough chances to back out. No, trust me, this was really fucking hot. I liked it,” she added, her tone playful yet sincere, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
Ona felt her cheeks warm even more, the relief flooding through her. She leaned forward again, resting her forehead against Lucy’s collarbone, breathing in the steady rhythm of Lucy’s heartbeat. “I have to confess something,” she murmured, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant.
Lucy chuckled again, the sound deep and teasing. “You’ve always wanted to sleep with me, haven’t you?” she teased, her fingers gently tracing the back of Ona’s neck.
Ona’s face grew even warmer, and she leaned back just enough to meet Lucy’s gaze, eyes wide with embarrassment, but also a hint of playful defiance. “What if that was the case?” she mumbled, a half-smile playing at her lips.
Lucy, who had been chuckling until then, paused, narrowing her eyes at Ona with playful suspicion. But her expression softened again quickly, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Really?”
“Maybe,” Ona said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest. “Depends if you’d be into that.”
Lucy raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “I think it’s cute,” she said, her hand cupping Ona’s chin gently, her thumb brushing over Ona’s cheek.
Ona swallowed hard, her gaze flickering down to where Lucy’s arm flexed subtly in front of her. She traced the curve of Lucy’s bicep with her eyes, suddenly aware of the depth of her attraction—how much she had always wanted her.
“I think you’re really hot,” she confessed quietly, her voice soft, almost shy. Her fingers traced the edge of Lucy’s arm, hesitant but drawn to the warmth of her skin.
Lucy’s teasing smile softened at Ona’s words. Her hand, still gently holding Ona’s chin, tilted her face up until their eyes met again. The playful banter they often shared seemed to fade, replaced by something deeper, more sincere.
“Well,” Lucy murmured, leaning closer until her lips barely brushed against Ona’s, “I think I can live with that.” She chuckled lightly, her voice a little lower. “And, for the record, you’re not too bad yourself.”
Ona’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade, the tension between them shifting into something more intimate. Before she could stop herself, a question slipped out. “How many…?” She trailed off, immediately shaking her head, embarrassed. “Never mind, sorry.”
Lucy’s eyes narrowed slightly, amused. “You really need to learn to say what’s on your mind.”
“Huh?” Ona asked, tilting her head slightly.
“I mean,” Lucy said softly, her hand moving in gentle circles along Ona’s back beneath her shirt, “you don’t have to hold back with me. Say what you want. Don’t be afraid.”
Ona chuckled nervously, burying her face briefly against Lucy’s neck before she whispered, “How many people have you… slept with?”
‘’Huh.’’ Lucy raised her eyebrows but smiled. “Is that really something you want to know?”
Ona nodded, still feeling the warmth of her blush. “Only if you’re okay with telling me.”
Lucy paused for a moment, her fingers still tracing slow, comforting patterns on Ona’s back. “Six people,” she said simply.
Ona blinked, processing it, then asked softly, “Am I the sixth?”
Lucy chuckled, shaking her head. “No, we haven’t slept together yet.”
Ona looked at her, slightly confused. “What do you mean?”
Lucy grinned, leaning in to kiss Ona’s forehead lightly. “I’d say we’ve fooled around a bit.’’ She chuckled, ‘’Sleeping with me, that’s a whole different thing, trust me,” she teased, her voice dropping to a playful whisper, “it would be way better then this.”
Ona laughed, her earlier nerves dissolving into the ease of Lucy’s words. “Is that a promise, Bronzey?” She said, her voice flirty.
Lucy smirked, her thumb brushing lightly over Ona’s cheek. “Mhm, it can be.’’
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dreamwatch · 3 months ago
Text
Turn The Page
Written for @corrodedcoffinfest
Day #30 - Prompt: Fame and Fortune | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: implied alcoholism | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: mild angst with a happy ending, future fic, they’re in love your honour, Eddie’s over it
Again, another iPad entry so hopefully no typos but… who knows!
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The moment Eddie gets off the stage Steve knows something is wrong.
The twenty-first had been hard, a day of press, of meet and greets, of things Steve asked Eddie to cancel. ‘It’s easier to just do it’; it’s not though. It never fucking is. The press and the fans get a Diet Eddie, and Steve ends up with an angry drunk in his bedroom. But they power through it. They always do.
 Steve goes to special shows now, wouldn’t have come to this one but it’s the twenty-seventh, and what’s more special than knowing your boyfriend is still alive?
Eddie practically throws his guitar at his tech as he rushes off stage, rushing past everyone, Steve included.
“Eddie?” he calls out.
The rest of the band get off the stage. “Eddie!” Jeff shouts from behind him. “The encore!”
But he’s gone, down the labyrinth of hallways, the crowd still cheering for more.
He doesn’t shower, doesn’t grab his shit from the dressing room, just walks out of the back of the venue to their car,  Steve running behind him. The car isn’t ready, they’re not expecting him for another thirty minutes at least, and it’s a confused mess of security and crew, frantic radio messages.
“Eddie, what the fuck is going on?” Steve asks, taking him by the elbow. He gets a tight head shake as a reply.
The car ride is silent, the smell of cooling sweat blending with the air con blowing full blast at them, and when they get to their hotel room, Eddie heads straight to the phone.
“Hi, can I get room service to the Junior Suite?”
Steve just gawps, he feels like he’s losing his fucking mind.
 “Uh… can I get… do you have pineapple? I’d really like some pineapple actually. And a bottle of champagne… whatever you think is best, oh and hold on,” he says covering the mouthpiece with his hand. “Do you want anything?” 
He sounds manic, so off, so not his usual self. Wild in a crazed way, and it’s scaring Steve. He stands in the entranceway, mouth hanging open.
“Yeah, I want to know what the fuck is going on?”
Eddie blinks.
“And a cheese burger and fries.”
He hangs up and finally peels his t-shirt off, letting it drop to the floor as he walks to the bathroom to shower. The phone keeps ringing, Jeff asking what the hell is going on, their manager, Phil, screaming at him. Eddie wanders in, towel around his waist, another wrapped around his hair. He doesn’t even stop to ask who Steve’s talking to, just gently takes the handset from his hands, places it back on the phone.
The room service arrives and Eddie leads Steve to the dining table, tells him to sit and eat, and then he takes a huge piece of pineapple with him to the bed.
The phone rings again, and this time Eddie rips the cord from the wall.
“Ed, you have got to talk to me.”
“I will. Just let me eat this first. Eat your burger.” 
As if he could.
Eddie sits on the edge of the bed half naked, eating pineapple. Steve’s watched them trash rooms before, true idiot behaviour, but this is probably the weirdest fucking thing he’s ever seen.
There’s banging on the door, Steve can hear Gareth’s voice, then Phil’s again, it’s after midnight now. Eventually they go away.
“You know,” Eddie says breaking the silence. “I don’t think I’ve enjoyed anything in the last few years as much as I enjoyed that fucking pineapple.” He frowns at the half eaten fruit platter, like he’s trying to solve a math problem. 
Steve crouches in down in front of him, his hands gripping Eddie’s knees.
“Bambi, please, what the fuck is going on? I mean, do I need to call a doctor here…? You’re scaring me.”
Eddie looks at him like he’s water on a hot day. 
“What if I said let’s run away? I’ll quit the band, we’ll buy a ranch or a farm. Get out of LA.” His eyes meet Steve’s properly for the first time since he got off stage. “What would you say?”
“I’d say give me ten minutes to pack.”
“Really?”
“Really. Where’s this coming from?”
“I died twenty years ago. And I got a second chance and I took it, you know. We’ve done amazing things. But it’s not fun anymore. It hasn’t been fun for a long time. And life’s too short for that, it’s too short for me to waste it being miserable. And I am. I’m a thing, I’m a commodity. I go where I’m told, I turn up, do my thing. I don’t remember the names of the towns I’m in, I always thought that was a joke you know? It’s not. It’s real.” He laughs, but it’s shallow, his eyes flat. “Who fucking knew?”
Steve gets off the floor and sits beside Eddie on the bed. “Are you serious?”
Eddie doesn’t answer straight away, but when he eventually looks at Steve he nods, and for the first time that day, Steve realises, he smiles. “Yeah. Yeah I’m serious.”
“I hate that you felt this way and didn’t tell me.”
Eddie takes his hand, threads his fingers through, locking them together.
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
This stupid, beautiful man. His everything. His life.
“And the band?”
Eddie shrugs. “They’ll be fine. They’ll get another guitarist no problem. People would kill to join them.”
Steve reaches for Eddie, lays his palm against his cheek, trails his thumb along the silvery thread that runs all the way to his throat, a memory woven on his face. It scares him how close they were to not having this, hits him sometimes out of nowhere. He leans in, his lips meeting Eddie’s, tastes pineapple, tastes home. He wouldn’t deny this man a single thing.
“Alright then,” says Steve says, breaking the kiss with a smile. “I guess we’re going shopping for a ranch.”
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