#both of them not knowing that the other is thinking of it too and feels the same way aljdghk

[cheyisagirlkisser]

power bottom vi who lets you practice using your strap on her

warnings: 18+ content, power bottom vi x subtop fem reader, slight degradation and praise, clit stim (vi receiving), strap-on sex.

a/n: this is an older request but it's been on my mind for a while!!

Vi watched as you clumsily adjusted the harness around your waist with a skeptical eye. She sighed, leaning back and preparing herself for the worst. She felt bad thinking that, but she knew you. You had been her best friend for as long as you had attended to the same university, and you weren't exactly ever seen with girls. Pretty inexperienced, but adorably eager to please. When you showed up at her dorm with that downturned face, complaining about how you could never fuck a girl properly with a strap because you never get to practice, she found herself offering.

You glanced down at the dildo jutting out from the harness and stifled a laugh. This wasn't supposed to be a joke, though you knew it wasn't all that serious. You did wanna make Vi cum. You needed to be able to actually use one of these, and who better to experiment with than a girl who loves casual?

You tentatively settled between her legs, looking down at her for approval. She raised an eyebrow at you, and your heart did a little flip. "Do you even know how to use it?" She asked.

You scoffed half-heartedly at her accusation. "Yes, I do! I'm frequent LesLez."

"Dude, I did not need to know that."

"Sorry, I just.. well, I'm nervous. I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to do this, and it's making me feel weird." You confessed.

Vi softened a little at that, feeling some guilt for being brash with you. She grabbed your face, pulling it closer. "You don't have to be all dominant, you know." She spoke closely to your ear.

You looked confused, like an old dog being taught a new trick. "What? But I'm the one-"

"Just shut up and let me guide you." She quickly cut off your protest, her tone firm. It unexpectedly made you clit twitch with need.

"O-Okay..yeah." You agreed, steeling yourself.

Vi nodded, relaxing. It wouldn't be as bad to let you practice if she could be in charge. "Okay, just use your fingers on my clit..get me in the mood.." she instructed, letting her own trail down her body and show you what to do. You watched curiously as two of her fingers rubbed circles onto her clit. She then pulled them away, letting you try. You were a bit nervous, but when you glanced up to see Vi bit her lip at the way you touched her, it gave you a bit of confidence.

"Am I doing it right?" You asked, voice wobbly.

She nodded with a soft exhale. "Yeah, just like that."

When it was time for the main event, you felt less nervous. Both of you were. Vi found herself anticipated getting fucked. Maybe you wouldn't be so bad at it. You found yourself feeling like it wouldn't be so hard, and you were chasing her approval.

"Just the tip at first..I'm wet enough to take it." She guided you with eager pants, watching as you parted her slick folds with the head of the strap-on and very carefully letting it slip into her. Vi wanted to tell you that you didn't have to be so slow, but she figured it'd be better for you to be careful than just shove the dick into her and jackhammer-fuck her.

She gasped when she felt it, resting her head against the pillow. "Yeah, see? It's not so bad." She said, trying not to let herself enjoy it too much. This could only be practice. You were only supposed to be her friend.

You, on the other hand, had your head spinning. You eyes were bouncing from the way her pussy took the tip, the way her walls seemed try and suck the rest of the length in. You wanted to bottom out and let her feel every inch, to fuck her and hear her praise you for it. This was definitely getting out of hand.

"Can I fuck you? Please?" You asked, half-mumbling as if you didn't fully want her to process your words, but there was a desperation there that you couldn't hide even if you wanted to.

"Yeah, fuck me." Vi told you, bracing herself.

You didn't miss a beat, slowly pushing into her cunt and letting her adjust to all of it. Vi didn't hold in the moan, and she rubbed her clit with her own fingers to pacify herself from the stretch. It wasn't painful because she was experienced, but it wasn't exactly comfortable yet.

"Fuck me gently at first, don't rush it." She instructed, and you nodded. You reeled back until just the tip remained inside of her, and then slowly pushed back into her welcoming heat. You both moaned, your voice ironically soft and needy, and Vi's deep and raspy. Something about the difference in dynamics had your pussy soaking the harness.

The more you fucked her, the more the practice went from..well, actual practice, to something intense.

"Fuck, you're stretching me so well, aren't you? You like fucking me?" Vi cooed in your ear, her voice making you throb.

You eagerly nodded, a small whimper breaking from your throat as you slammed into her pussy. "Feels so good. Your pussy feels so good."

Vi's legs were wrapped around your waist, and your lips were latched onto her bottom one, sucking on the wet flesh. The room was hot, and you could hear the squelch of Vi's pussy taking you and the sound of your skin meeting.

On a particularly hard thrust, you found her g-spot, making her groan. "There you go. You actually can fuck a girl, can't you?" Her remark was almost condescending, and it ironically turned you on even more. Vi seemed to notice when your thrusts got sloppier, as you got needier. "Gonna make me cum, that's all you're good for," she rasped, and you whined. You whined at that.

"Please, I wanna make you cum. Need to." You whimpered out, fucking her with a newly eager and redoubled effort with the means to try to feel her cum around the silicone cock.

"Just like that, keep fuckin' me. I'm so close." She groaned and smashed her lips onto yours to hide her noises, fearing a complaint to the RA.

When she finally felt her orgasm come over her, her hands were all over your back, nails digging into your skin and making you moan just as loudly. Your breaths were shared, and you could actually feel the wetness mix on both of your thighs when they met, when you bottomed out in her pussy. All you could think about was how your best friend had the best pussy and you never knew. You wished you did sooner, you could be fucking her like this months ago.

You went limp on top of her, both of you breathless and a little sweaty. It felt nice, though. Vi was still in shock that things got so out of hand, but fuck if it wasn't a good feeling to have you laid on top of her like this. It had her a little shaken, trying to figure out how she felt about you. But not long after, the moment was over.

"I've got a physics test to study for, so.." Vi said, voice a bit quiet.

You were a little surprised. You wanted to just cuddle and feel her warmth for a bit, but it seemed like she wanted you to leave. That's what her words implied. So, you silently nodded, getting dressed. You wondered if this would happen again. You couldn't figure out if Vi was thinking the same things that you were, but you knew without a doubt that the friendship would never be the same. For better or worse.

[angelltheninth]

Friends with Benefits with Love and Deepspace Men

Pairing: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, creampie, friends with benefits, protectiveness, love confession, fingering, realization of feelings, denaial of feelings, mating press, desk sex, jealusy, flirting, referanced cunnilingus

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I would legit want to be their friends. The benefit is heaing me yap about how pretty they all are and whatever my newest hyperfixation is.

FwB!Zayne always tries to keep things strictly professional beween the two of you. There's him when he is your friend and collegue and him when he's making love to you on the surface of his desk. It's easy for him to cross between the lines, one moment he's giving you advice or talking about problem he has and the next he has his hand down your underwear and the other over your mouth, keeping you quiet. He's actually very good at going between the two modes and will never cross a line without your permission. Any feelings he might develop he will only show when he's being your lover, not when he's your friend.

FwB!Rafayel hides behind the flirting he does to make you belive he;s not as serious as he is. There will always be a time for him to be your friend and listen to any problems you make have, go on movie dates with you, take you shopping and order your favorite food when you're sad. And then there is the time when he offers to take your mind off what ever is bothering you by holding you close while you ride his cock and breathe heavily against his neck. Ocassionaly you have said you loved each other, and both of you know it's true, but you want to take a bit more before your relationshp takes that next step.

FwB!Xavier gets too into his own head about the whole deal becuase how is supposed to act that he wasn't balls deep in you the night before when you walk funny in front of him. Downright impossible for him to ignore the signs you give him. And he really does try his best but he doesn't want to make it seem like he only wants you for sex so he ends up texting you a lot while you're apart. Which only confuses things more. Truly he wishes there was an easy way for him to deal with this. Perhaps the best thing is for him to confess that he wants to be your boyfriend, not just the guy who makes you come and then never talks about it again until the next time.

FwB!Sylus teases you so much that you have no idea when he wants to be your friend and when he wants to fuck. There have been times where he deliberately made you think one thing only to do the other. Mindgames like these are fun for him, and watching you get all out of sorts because of it is even better. For as many times as he's fucked you into the bed he was also the one to comfort you when you were full of doubts and wanted nothing in return. Part of him hates that you still see him as a friend after all of that but he also won't force you to see him as anything else. Besies it's only a matter of time before you do.

FwB!Caleb is too jealous to stay just friends after the very first night you spend togeteher. Stares at othe guys that flirt with you so much a few of them actually took off running in the opposite direction. He didn's spend the whole night eating you out until you could no longer scream his name just for some other guy to swoop in and take you home. Try as he might to hide his jealus side it's very much impossibe, his smile gets sour and tight every time you tell him a guy flirted with you. A man like him can only tolorate so much before he confesses to you while fucking you. Not even romantically, he growls it out while having you folded in half and just as he fills you up with cum.

[lymtw]

How To Sleep

It's way too early for you to be awake. Five in the morning on your day off... you have to stop doing this to yourself. You know it, but you can't stop, because your body thinks it's funny. It wakes up all on its own and does not allow you to go back to sleep as easily.

The good thing is that never feel alone, as the only one awake, because Toji's presence is immense around you. He's always touching some part of you, keeping you tethered to him in any way he can. This time, he's literally weighing you down with his body. He feels comfortably heavy, like a paperweight holding down the first page of an unfinished love letter. His heated cheek rests on your chest, and you know that if he were awake, he'd say something about the numbness he feels in his arms from you lying on them all night, just as you would tell him about the recurring static you feel in your feet because your legs fell asleep.

You can hear Toji's soft breathing, followed by a funny, almost snore-like sound. You know that if you focus too hard on it, you'll laugh and shake him awake, so you go back to looking straight ahead and thinking about why your body must betray you this way. His hair tickles your skin whenever he stirs in his sleep. It lures you into carefully playing with the soft, dark locks, while you continue to wonder why it's always five in the morning. Neither you, nor Toji have to be up at five in the morning on a daily basis, so, maybe you're just going insane.

"Hm?" A low hum that comes from the man lying on your chest. You deem it a sound of sleep and ignore it, silence returning to the room, until he speaks up. His voice is low and deep enough to make your heart skip a beat. "What's that sigh about, ma? Am I too heavy?"

"No, you're okay. Go back to sleep, baby," you respond, caressing the back of his head and wrapping your other arm around him.

Toji believes you, this time, because you wouldn't do this if you were in pain or uncomfortable. He keeps this in mind and goes back to sleep with ease due to the soothing motions he receives from you—the way you run your fingers through his hair and gently scratch his head, as well as the calming strokes to his back. He's fast asleep in seconds, while you stay awake, wishing you could do the same.

Your hands still on him once his soft snoring returns, luring a smile onto your face. You look out the window, seeing nothing but a sliver of moonlight illuminating the edge of the curtains. You're not scared of the dark, but knowing that Toji is there with you makes lying awake in the almost void-like atmosphere a lot better. You trust that if there is such a thing as monsters under the bed or creepy entities hiding in the closet, they can't get you. They won't get you because of him. He's safety, even in a dormant state, and you don't feel an ounce of fear as you stick to blinking the restless minutes away.

You've been awake for over half an hour, now, just letting time go by and continuing on as Toji's body pillow. Even through the stillness, you had your moments of entertainment. He drooled on your chest and there was the occasional quiet and nonsensical sleep talking—both things that lured hushed breaths of laughs from you. It's endearing to see your hulking man in such a peaceful state. It makes you want to squeeze him with all the strength you have in your body. You know it does nothing to him, but you also know that he likes the feeling of you trying to crush him, the way he crushes you.

Again, you mistake his words for more sleepy mumbling, disregarding them until he makes it more clear that he's talking to you.

"You good, ma?" He rasps, pulling his arms out from under your back.

"Mhm. You okay?" You ask, running your thumb over the corner of his lips to wipe the drool off.

"All good. Hey, let's switch, yeah?" He suggests, peeling himself off of you.

"I'm okay, baby. You can go back to sleep," you assure. "You were keeping me warm," you add, with a soft grin.

"And slobbering on you like a damn dog," he grumbles. He lifts the chest part of your camisole and uses it to wipe up the small patch of saliva that makes your skin glisten. "Come on, let's switch," he insists, already scooting over so that you can get up. With a soft, defeated sigh, you sit up and crawl towards the middle of the bed, allowing Toji to slide into the warm spot you left.

"Come here, mama," he calls, moving the blanket so that you can climb on top of him and he can cover both of you up, after. You're careful as you make your way back, feeling around to make sure that you don't plant your hand into his stomach or his ribs. Once you're laid flat on top of him, with your arms around him and your head resting on his chest, he brings the blanket up until it reaches the center of your back and his arms cover what is left exposed.

"Better, isn't it?" He murmurs, once you stop adjusting and get fully comfortable.

"Different," you respond. "Comfy, but I also like when you turn into my weighted blanket. You're always warm."

"Well, you need to be nice and take turns with me, because as much as I like weighing you down, I also like being able to hold you." His hand cups the nape of your neck, the other one rests on the exposed skin of your back, between your shoulder blades. "You're basically a teddy bear, ma."

You smile at the loving thought, and decide to let him win, this time, because after almost an hour of just being awake, doing nothing but appreciating his company, your eyelids are starting to grow heavy. It's like he put some sort of spell on you. You feel the tiredness seeping into your body, anew, with no difficulty at all. You know that after a few minutes of him stroking your back, he'll be asleep just as quickly as he was when he was lying on you and you will catch up to him in no time, because those slow, gentle motions, are fueling your sleepiness like he's manually rubbing in some sort of remedy that will knock you out.

You don't know when you fell asleep or when Toji stopped rubbing your back or when he fell asleep, again. All you know is that at some point in the continuation of your sleep, he handled you like the teddy bear he said you are. He flipped you both onto your sides and pulled you into his chest.

"Hm?" A dazed, barely conscious hum from you, when you're being adjusted so that your face is pressed against his neck.

"Shh, go back to sleep."

[andreabaideas]

Lots of them. Here comes my list of Florence + The Machine songs :

Cosmic love : the first song I knew of her. Thanks to a Twilight fan vid edit.

Daffodill : I LOVE the change of vibe in the song so sudden. I got introduced to this one because a Harry Potter marauders era fanfic (about Narcissa Black).

Florida!!! : technically It isn't a Florence's song, Its a Taylor Swift ft Florence song... But to me It feels more like a Florence song than a Taylor song, even if Its Taylor's...It's just the vibes, If It makes any sense 😅.

Girl with one eye :

So creepy, so catchy and edgy. Great american southern gothic vibes . I would put It on every single (nowadays setting) Vampire fiction show and film ever.

Seems to me like a conversation between an assaulter and Its víctim (about to get a revenge) to me, I dont know if i'm right, just my reading... so original & different.

Heavy in your arms : Total banger .

" This will be my last confession

I love you never felt like any blessing

Whisper it is like it's a secret

Only to condemn the one who hears it

With a heavy heart "

It completely slaps !!!!

Howl : another banger.

" Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers

Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters"

Hunger : and another banger!!!

" Oh, and you in all your vibrant youth

How could anything bad ever happen to you?

You make a fool of death with your beauty, and for a moment

I forget to worry"

June : love this song. Just love It!!!

It has Djats vibes (like a song written by Daisy for Billy). Its very Daisybilly coded. Like...

" The show was ending and I had started to crack

Woke up in Chicago and the sky turned black

And you're so high, you're so high, you have to be an angel

And I'm so high, I'm so high, I can see an angel

...

In those heavy days in June

When love became an act of defiance

Hold onto each other

...

You were broken-hearted and the world was too

And I was beginning to lose my grip

And I have always held it loosely

But this time, I admit

I felt it really start to slip

.....

I'm always down to hide with you.

I think Daisy Jones and the Six writter got inspired by this song (song IS from 2018 and book from 2019)

King : feminist.

And the Line : " I never knew my killer would be coming from within" is a haunting one.

Mermaids One of my fave songs ever. Party. Poetry. Dancy. Indie. Its wholesome to me.

My love : Love and time lost. A classic

Never let me go : LOVE It. Plus the videoclip features Jamie Campbell Bower, Who I LOVE.

No light no light : Another of my faves ever.

The whole song Its a poem, Its a vibe, Its just amazing!!!

Over the love : Best thing about the modern film of the Great Gatsby Its this song tbh.

Queen of peace : so cool. Love it

Rabbit Heart (raise It Up) : Alice in wonderland with a human turning into Vampire vibes, cool. "This IS a gift / It comes with a price..."

Seven devils : Another classic banger. Eery poem. Witchy vibes. My gothic teen self adored It.

Shake It out : The classic of Florence. Everyone knows It. And for a good reason.

Ship to wreck : love the song. Like a comforting chaos. Love the videoclip like the fkat Its asinking boat. Just love It.

Silver springs cover Technically a Fleetwood Mac song. Unpopular opinion : I like It better than the original, I like both. But I like the way Florence songs It better.

Spectrum Sounds spiritual, and

" Say my name / As every colour illuminates/ We are shining/ And we will never be afraid again" those lines live in my head rent

St jude : Cool. Another song that reminds me of Daisy Jones and the Six like...

" St Jude, maybe I've always been more comfortable in chaos // And I couldn't keep my mouth shut, I just had to mention// Grabbing your attention//St Jude, the patron saint of the lost causes"

The end of love "I've always been in love with you//Could you tell it from the moment that I met you?" Lives in my head rent free

Which Witch : And it's my whole heart// While tried and tested, it's mine// And it's my whole heart//Trying to reach it out// And it's my whole heart// Burned but not buried this time// I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out.

No more explanation needed.

ok what’s your florence + the machine song. mine is rabbit heart (raise it up)<3

[shouyuus]

Yeahhhhhh I'm gonna need the mutual cockblocking with Vi, yup.

based off of this ask. PHEW alright so uh, bullet points today bc /pops open another bottle of champagne/ it's that kind of day:

is it rly called bullying if u and vi r bullying each other and ur both like... into it? (neither of u are being subtle, everyone can see the yearning and they're all either super invested in when ur gonna hook up or tired AF of ur shit)

pitfighter!vi who glares at anyone who tries to chat you up at the bar that you frequent after all her fights (u volunteer at the dingy little clinic two doors down from the fighting ring and she thinks ur too naive for the mouth you've got on you -- and you do have a mouth on you dear sweet god), pays the bartender extra to keep an eye on you and double dose whoever is trying to chat you up that night bc hell be damned if vi'll see you leave with any of these weird fuckers

loris is so over vi's tantrums whenever you push yourself between her and someone she's sweet-talking; he knows that vi's just doing it bc she knows that the moment you see her reach out to push the hair of out of another girl's face, you'll be shimmying your way over and wiggling between them, pressing your tits up against the bar, snagging the drink that vi was gonna offer her potential hookup (and yeah, what if vi ordered a drink she knew you'd like better? huh? that's got nothing to do with anything)

"why don't you just take her home?". vi squinting at loris in the dimness of the alley behind the bar, "wh-what? i don't want that -- that conniving little... rabbit -- i like someone who's a bit more bite -- or... whatever." loris hitches an eyebrow, watching vi with a deadpanned look before sighing, "yeah. whatever you say."

whenever your friends ask you why on earth you're so hell bent on keeping vi from hooking up with a rando, you'd frown and huff and "you should see the way she comes into the clinic every other day -- i'm -- i'm doing a public service! she's gonna ruin whoever she gets her hands on and -- and i've gotta watch out for the sisterhood, yknow?" cue all ur friends rolling their eyes, "uh-huh. yeah. right."

the one night that vi manages to get someone halfway to the door, you catch them right before vi manages to lead the girl out into the street, draping yourself across vi's back, giggling as you loop your arms around her neck, "vi! i was looking for you everywhere -- you promised we could hang out after your fight tonight -- did you forget again?" you purposefully stumble into the girl she's with, knocking their hands apart. vi grimaces, narrowing her eyes as she rounds on you, intent on telling you off when she catches sight of what you're wearing -- a black leather skirt that barely kisses the tops of your thighs and a tiny little red croptop that leaves nothing to the imagination, dark fishnets criss-crossing up your legs (her mouth waters at the thought of ripping them apart to bury her fingers in your cunt) --

"uhm... friend of yours?" her would-be date asks, clearly a bit put-off as she looks you over. you pull your face into a girlish pout, batting your lashes at vi, "aw... are you doing this to get back at me for the other night? i said was sorry -- would you feel better if i let you eat me out in the back alley again --"

at that point, the girl vi's with pulls away and vi barely tries to get her back before rounding on you. the dopey grin slides off your face and your eyes glitter like shards of broken glass as vi growls at you, yanking you behind her till you're both in the dim alleyway behind the bar, the thick metal door slamming shut behind you

"what the fuck is your problem?!" she asks. you roll your eyes, scoffing, "whatever the fuck is yours. i've told you that you're supposed to be resting, and you never listen --" "i come to you so you can stitch up my face not so you can give me life advice --" "well i won't have to much of your face to stitch up if you keep on going like this cause you're gonna get yourself killed!" "why the fuck do you care?!" "cause it's my job!"

vi groans, jerking away from you to kick at an already toppled over trashcan, the metallic clank of it ringing through the narrow street

"you don't get paid to cockblock me at the fucking bar --" "and you don't get paid to spend all your winnings bribing the bartender into double-dosing all my potential dates!" vi whirls around then, eyes wide, "i -- i don't know what the hell you're --" you let out a wild shriek of laughter, "oh please! you're not subtle -- and you don't think pete and i have known each other for way longer than he's known you?"

vi huffs, folding her arms defensively over chest, glaring down the alley at the thing strip of light cresting in from the street out front, "that's -- those people -- they're not good for you. they'd --" she swallows hard, "they'd hurt you -- chew you up and spit you back out and --"

you cock your eyebrows, "you don't think i know that? i am from the lanes too, yknow."

vi scowls, "then you should start acting like it."

"what?" "nothing." "no, seriously -- what is it with you?" "nothing! god fuckin' -- forget it -- i'll find another bar to --" "violet."

her eyes jerk up, "how -- who -- how'dyou know my name?"

you sigh, rolling your eyes, "your friend? loris? he told me after the first time you punched a guy for trying to talk to me. you're probably too drunk to remember but --" vi shakes her head, "no i -- i do -- that guy was an ass -- i knew him from back when i used to run jobs for -- well, doesn't matter much now but --"

"i can look after myself, violet," you say. vi scoffs before she can stop herself, "yeah. okay." you sigh, leaning back against the bar's back door, "or are you just so caught up in needing something to protect that you don't see it?"

vi very nearly flinches. "what?"

you purse your lips, "i said what i said." "yeah well, say it again." she closes the space between you both in a few quick strides, crowding into your space, slamming a palm against the door next to your face. to your credit, you don't even blink.

there's a flicker of something behind your eyes that licks fire along the length of vi's spine; "i said -- you should find some other little puppet to work out your problems on because i'm done --"

she's kissing you before you can finish your sentence, and there's nothing caring or gentle about the way she bullies her tongue into your mouth and licks along the backsides of your teeth, nothing kind or caring about the way she yanks you forward by the back of your neck till you're sure you'll be able to feel the ghosts of her fingers against your skin for days and days to come

you moan into her, biting down hard on her bottom lip, grinning when the harsh, metallic tang of blood seeps across your tongue. when she pulls back, you're both panting, and you've never seen her eyes so dark, so hungry and crowded with sharp, thunderheads of lust

"mm, that's one way to shut you up," vi muses, running a thumb along the line of your jaw. you grin, a slanted, fox-sly thing. "admit it, you've been wanting to do that for ages."

vi's lips curl; she leans in close enough for you to taste the cheap whiskey on her breath as she says, "sure, and so have you."

[moonstruckme]

Tumblr disappeared the request (I'm going to tear my hair out) but this is a silly little thawing out drabble! Read the series here

request: okay thawing out scenario!! only if you want to but something with talks of their relationship on social media? not smau but either an interview or them reading tweets or theories people are cooking up and laughing about it??

cw: modern au, some allusion to non-hetero relationships not being the default

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“They’ve caught on!” 

Sirius wastes no time with a greeting as he marches into Remus’ flat. Neither you nor Remus do more than look up from where you’re sitting together on his bed; you’re both used enough to this sort of behavior to defer overreaction. 

“Also,” he goes on in the same tone of urgency, “it’s fucking freezing out there. Scoot.” 

“Hi.” You laugh as Sirius takes off his shoes and crawls onto the bed with you, immediately tucking his feet under your bum. Remus is grateful his own arse is too bony to be selected for this purpose (much), but you bear it complaisantly. “What have they caught onto?” 

Remus loves how comfortable you both are here. His flat has become the unofficial rendezvous point for the three of you, despite having no furniture yet other than a large bed and an armchair one of his neighbors was trying to throw out when he moved in. He presumes this is only because it’s situated nearly equidistant to your apartment and Sirius’, but it makes things marvelously easy for him; most mornings after practice you all simply come here, and Remus doesn’t ever need to go far looking for love when it’s always knocking at his door. 

“They know about me and Remus,” Sirius says, tapping at his phone. 

Remus feels his brows furrow. “Who knows?” 

“The press!” 

You lean over to look at his screen, and a snort escapes you. “The press. Tabloids are not the press.” 

“They have a picture of us at the grocery, someone must have taken it very sneakily.” Sirius is positively glowing as he delivers news of his stalker victim-hood. “We’re holding hands and everything, it’s very scandalous. I have to say, I’m a bit impressed with how progressive they are to discover us before one of us and y/n,” he scrolls downward, “though there are a few comments about you stealing me away from her…” 

Remus can’t help a small smile. Sirius is so clearly delighted with his new celebrity status, he’s unlikely to shake the swagger from his step for the rest of the week. 

“Unfortunately, they aren’t quite that progressive,” he says. “I saw a photo of y/n and I last week.” 

“What?” 

Sirius’ head whips up so fast Remus worries for his neck. If he thinks for a moment to look to you to laugh at your ridiculous boyfriend with him, Remus is mistaken; you turn to him with a similar expression, shock mingled with dismay. 

“What?” you ask. “Why didn’t you say?” 

“Yeah! Why didn’t you?” Sirius agrees fervently. 

Remus shrugs. “I didn’t think any of us would care.” That’s a lie; he knew Sirius would care, but he would care too much, and at ten in the evening when Remus saw the photo he simply didn’t fancy the prospect of staying up all night. 

“I want to see.” You’re pulling out your phone now, too, looking up your names online. “What were we doing? Did I look okay?” 

Sirius scoffs. “Gorgeous, don’t make me laugh.” 

Remus hums his agreement, wrapping an arm around your neck and kissing your head. 

“Now that I’m looking…” Sirius continues scrolling. “There are people talking about your pictures in the comments, too. Some people say you’re keeping Remus from me.” 

Remus muses aloud, “I wonder how long it will take for someone to actually consider that none of us is keeping any of us from anyone.” 

Sirius’ eyes flash. “Care to make a bet?” 

“No,” you mumble reflexively, still hunting down your paparazzi photo. Remus, however, is considering it. “It could be argued that I’m keeping both of you away from the general population, anyway.” 

“Awe,” Sirius coos. He dips his head to mush a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Though your expression doesn’t change as you stare at your phone, Remus is willing to bet that your skin has warmed a few degrees. “Thanks, baby.” 

“Oh god.” Remus can tell the moment you find the photo, because your tapping stops all at once, brows stitching together in distress. “Why would they catch us then, of all times?”

“Let me see.” Sirius practically clambers into your lap, despite the fact that he could easily have looked from his spot beside you, to view your screen. 

“I look like death.” Sirius usually monopolizes the drama department in your relationship, but you sound properly horrified. “Is that what I really how my posture is?” 

“I didn’t think it was that bad a photo,” says Remus. He leans over to see. “Dove, you look fine.” Behind your back, a skinny finger snakes around to jab Remus’ side. “You look lovely, you always do.” 

The photo was taken at your usual coffee shop, likely in the early hours before practice. Ordinarily the three of you would go together, but Remus remembers this particular morning because it was only you two. Sirius had come down with a nasty cold, and you had asked Remus to come to the rink with you anyway to oversee some of your moves for the new routine you were working on. He’d known as soon as he’d seen you that Sirius’ illness had passed on to you; his bright-eyed early riser was droopy and out of it, your smile appearing only at intervals and seemingly with some effort. Remus had played along with your usual morning routine until the warm drinks were in your hands, and then he’d shepherded you back to your apartment and to bed. 

“My dark circles are so bad I look like a cartoon skull.” You press the pads of your fingers underneath your eyes concernedly. 

“They weren’t that bad,” Remus assures you, rubbing your shoulder. “And I’ve only seen your posture look like that when you’re sick and it’s four in the morning. Don’t worry over it.” 

“I think you look cute.” Sirius smiles at the picture. It’s the soft, unaffected kind that makes Remus’ heart thump painfully. “You two do look very couple-y, though, I can see how they drew conclusions.” 

“Wonder why,” Remus mutters. 

“So, a wager? I say a month until they put it together.” 

“A month?” No way is anyone going to guess polyamory in a month; not when they’re just starting to fight about who’s stealing who from whom. “Sure, I’ll take that.” 

“He’ll only stack the odds by being obvious in public,” you say, finally putting down your phone with a slight sulk. “I, for one, don’t fancy being kissed with ulterior motive.” 

Sirius snuggles up to you, cooing. “I would never kiss you with ulterior motive, my love.” 

“Forget it, then,” Remus says hastily. 

“No, no, wait. What if I promised not to stack the odds?” 

You look at Sirius, interested. “That would mean no public displays of affection until the bet was finished,” you say, slowly. 

Sirius’ mouth pinches with displeasure, but he says, “Fine. Two weeks.” 

“You think you can make it two weeks, Pads?” Remus teases. 

“I’ll have you know I can exercise extraordinary restraint, when I want to. Shake on it.” 

“Alright, I’ll take your money.”

[levanterhaze]

gameboy ― bangchan

♡  ― 󠀬󠀬[ minors do not interact! ] fratboy!bangchan x f!reader . unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), overstimulation, graphic sex details, if you don't feel comfortable, don't read! fingering (f. receiving), just pure smut.

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[ 5.7k words ]♡― i wrote this in one night, i think i was inspired or something. it's been a while since i've written, but i found this one interesting. i'm still thinking about doing a second part!

The music was a bit too loud, but that's just the vibe, right?

Eunji was super focused on her school skirt she had borrowed from Sohee, working hard to recreate Britney Spears' iconic style. The theme was Y2K, and the fraternity was buzzing with Cher Horowitz, Paris Hilton, and Beyoncé energy.

You took a refreshing sip of your drink while your friends spread out to mingle. Sohee was caught up in the moment, and she and Minho, her boyfriend, shared a lovey-dovey moment. Eunji was telling someone how tired college was making her, that she barely had time to go to a spa, which, for Eunji, was total nonsense.

You were sharing a room with the two of them, which was very fortunate as they were both top-notch people. You scanned the place, looking for something or someone. It was a bad habit, you knew. Going to frat parties meant sharing the same square metre as your nemesis – or nearly so.

Your friends were aware of your mutual dislike of each other, but as you couldn't seem to avoid going to parties or socializing with your friends, you made a conscious effort to be the bigger person and not let his presence upset you. That said, it wasn't always easy.

Bangchan got what he wanted most of the time. He was arrogant and overbearing, which drove you crazy. As a woman who fought hard against all kinds of ignorance, it was gross to see him bragging around campus as if he were the last man in the world.

What was even more annoying was that all the girls fell for his bullshit.

Sohee, who was the most blunt of the three, said this was "suppressed horniness" and that the moment you and Bangchan were alone, all this animosity would turn into libido and it would all be sorted in one good fuck. But that was far from happening if it was up to you. "Now we're talking," Hyunjin appeared in your line of sight. With his long black hair slicked back, he looked like a slightly slutty version of Patrick Bateman, with fake blood on his jaw and chest. "You look good.

With your hands on your waist, you turned around to show how much effort you'd put into your costume. 

As someone deeply involved in theatre, you are always fully committed to any challenge. Whether it's a play or a fraternity party, you commit wholeheartedly. After much thought, you decided that you would be Suki. The lilac blouse was small and suited your upper body perfectly. The pink leather pants were almost identical, ending just below your bottom and with garters that went down to your thighs, exposing your skin by just a few inches. Suki is a sexy and iconic character, which is a perfect fit for you.

"You know it's not Halloween, right?" you shouted over loud music. Hyunjin gave a casual shrug and smiled, showing his teeth.

"There's always an excuse to dress up as Patrick Bateman."

There was a DJ at the party, apparently Minho's friend Jisung. He cranked up the music, and everyone gravitated towards the centre of the room, where most people were dancing. It was reggaeton and all the girls were rolling around and gettin down on the floor. Sohee was dancing with her boyfriend, whose hands were on her waist and whose face was close to hers, looking very pleased.

Eunji put her back to yours, glass in hand, and you danced together. As the alcohol took over your bodies, it was hard to hold back.

The beat was infectious and the energy was almost impossible to control. You danced together for three more songs until the alcohol had worn off and you desperately needed to find a toilet.

"Wait for me!" you shouted as you climbed the wooden stairs to the second floor access. It wasn't your first time in this dorm, but the drink had clouded your mind and all the doors simply looked the same.

You played a quick round of eenie, meenie, miney, mo, your finger landing on one of the many identical doors. Without hesitation, you turned the handle and pushed it open, expecting to find a bathroom. What you found instead stopped you dead in your tracks.

It wasn’t the bathroom. Not even close.

A girl was kneeling in the corner of the room, her blonde hair held by thick hands and enlarged veins. Your first impulse was to close the door, but for some odd reason you didn't. Standing there, eyes downcast and lips hanging open, was Bangchan.

You would never have believed it if you'd seen it.

The girl was working really hard, loudly moaning as she put it in her mouth. You stood there watching and thinking about what you saw. Bangchan had his dark hair covering his face, but then he lifted his head and you could see the thick veins on his neck.

Maybe the alcohol was having an effect. You tripped over yourself, making him look at you.

Your eyes went wide and you spun on your heels, running in the opposite direction.

"Oh no, oh shit."

At that moment, a girl came out of the bathroom, and you thanked God for finally finding a place where you could lock yourself in. Your cheeks were flushed and your skin prickled. Oh my god. That was too embarrassing. It wasn't something you should have seen, and even worse, it wasn't something you should have enjoyed witnessing.

After using the bathroom and washing your face with cold water, you went back into the living room and pretended that nothing had happened. If you drank enough, the sight of Bangchan groaning would quickly fade from your mind.

"You won't believe this," Eunji shouted, laughter spilling out with every word. "Some guy just stripped down to nothing but a cowboy hat and is now giving everyone his best Magic Mike impression."

Sure enough, there he was—a member of the basketball team, stark naked save for the cowboy hat perched jauntily on his head, gyrating in the middle of the dance floor like he was auditioning for Vegas.

"That's... dedication," you muttered, unable to tear your eyes away from the chaotic spectacle.

"That's fucking insane," Felix chimed in, suddenly materializing beside Hyunjin. He was dressed as a somewhat disheveled Romeo, complete with a feathered cap that looked suspiciously askew. His grin was as bright as the party lights.

"Is it?" Hyunjin asked dryly, eyeing the cowboy dancer like he was trying to calculate how much alcohol it would take to get someone to that point. "Seems on-brand for him."

"You know that guy?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hyunjin shrugged. "Not well enough to explain this."

Felix laughed, holding up a drink. "I don't know, kind of feels like art to me. Pure, unfiltered expression."

"Expression, my ass," Eunji snorted. "I give him five more minutes before campus security steps in."

Something caught your eye from across the room. Like a moth lured by a flame, your eyes found him. Bangchan was coming down the stairs with a girl in a Christina Aguilera costume. Her breasts barely tucked into her low-cut top, while he was now shirtless, wearing only an open sweatshirt over his abs.

Fucking ridiculous.

"Hyunjin!" you shouted, needing to get away from there as quickly as possible so that he wouldn't see you. You could picture the teasing or judgy looks he would give you. "Do you want to go with me to get a drink?" your voice came out sounding a bit desperate.

He was making his way through the crowd.

"The table's just over there, go get yourself," Hyunjin grumbled, but you rolled your eyes and took him by the hand.

"I'm asking you to come with me. Shut up and move."

The boy couldn't avoid it because you were pulling him through the crowd.

When you got to the table, you filled a cup with beer and drank it all in one go. Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, shocked at how determined you were. The second time, you were about to put the beer straight to your lips, but your friend was quicker and took it out of your hands.

"Okay. I think you've had enough."

You looked at your friends, and saw that Bangchan was looking at you and Hyunjin. There was something unusual in his gaze, something you couldn't and didn't want to understand. But something was causing you to feel uneasy. Especially in your panties.

You noticed the strange movement because in a second he was nowhere to be found. In the crowd, you saw Bangchan coming towards you.

“Hyun. Kiss me.”

Hyunjin froze, his brow arching high enough to vanish beneath his dark fringe. “Wait, what did you just say?”

“I need you to kiss me,” you repeated, your voice steady but your eyes darting toward the crowd. “Like, now.”

His hand stalled mid-motion, the glass he’d been holding clinking softly as he set it on the table. “What’s going on with you today?” he asked, studying you like you’d just sprouted another head. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Hyunjin, seriously,” you hissed, stepping closer, lowering your voice so only he could hear. “Just act. I need you to do this for me. Now. Please.”

He blinked at you, clearly taken aback, before his gaze narrowed slightly. “This better not be a setup for something ridiculous,” he muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching. “But fine. If it’s that important...”

The boy shrugged. He was surprised by the situation, but he would never refuse a demand for a kiss, even if it was a fake one. Hyunjin grabbed your face and pulled you into a solid kiss. There was no tongue, and there wasn't much feeling either. There was no excitement or the usual growing heat between you. But that didn't mean your friend wasn't a good kisser.

You kept going for a few seconds, until you needed to catch your breath and pushed him away by squeezing his shoulder a little. Hyunjin raised his eyebrows and shrugged. A girl walked past you, looking surprised. One of Hyunjin's friends called out to him, and then he left.

You hadn't a clue what you were doing. The idea after executing it seemed like a disaster. Kissing your friend to throw Bangchan off sounded better in your head.

"You sure love being the center of attention, don’t you?"

The voice that followed caught you off guard, smooth and laced with confidence. It sent a shiver down your spine, but you quickly shrugged it off.

"Funny, coming from you," you shot back, your tone dripping with playful sarcasm. He couldn’t see your face, but the eye-roll in your voice was impossible to miss.

And to be honest with himself, he could imagine a bunch of other things, too.

Receiving a blowjob from a student in his room was nice, but what made him come was having you watching. All this mutual hate made him more excited. It was like a competition, and every day he got closer to scoring.

He couldn't ignore your figure as you walked by, the way your pants clung to the curves of your body. Seeing you there, watching, made him think about doing all sorts of things, but none of them involved those pants.

"Kissing my friends in front of me? Bold move." He laughed at the look of disgust on your face. “If you wanted to join in, sweetheart, you could’ve just said so." His voice dropped, low and smooth, as he leaned closer. You could feel the dampness of his plump lips on your skin.

Frustrated by the interaction, you spun around and averted his gaze.

"You’re so full of yourself, it’s gross" But it didn't matter. The more you talked, the more he enjoyed himself. "And you're a disgusting, perverted..."

"If I'm all that, then why didn't you close the door, hmm?" He shot back, his smirk widening.

You were at a loss for words, your mind scrambling to form a coherent thought. Bold didn’t even begin to describe him. Bangchan wiped his lips with an infuriating nonchalance, stepping closer until the air between you was practically charged.

“Admit it,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerously smooth. “You wanted to be her, didn’t you?” Your eyes widened. "I know you did. Yeah. You watched 'cause you liked what you saw. You wanted it to be your lips wrapped around my cock.”

"You're..."

“Save it,” he interrupted with a cocky smirk, tilting his head slightly. “Don’t waste your breath. If you really want to find out, meet me there.”

He turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your pulse pounding in your ears. The sight of his broad shoulders and that silver chain resting against his toned abdomen only made things worse.

This was insane. Your head spun, and it wasn’t from the booze. His words, his presence, everything about him was too much—and yet, your body betrayed you.

Did you want to find out?

The whispers from theater rehearsals echoed in your mind. The girls who couldn’t stop talking about him, the things he supposedly did, the way he made them feel. Was he really that good? Was he as intoxicating as he seemed when you caught that glimpse earlier?

If none of that made sense, then why did your body tell you otherwise?

So you walked among a crowd of people. The noise of your thoughts overwhelmed the music. With each step, you found a reason to quit. Your friends were having fun, and they probably wouldn't miss you for a few minutes, right? What was wrong with you?

How could you even think about having sex with Bangchan?

Three doors were closed, but the same one was open. You closed your eyes, believing you had time to give up. But your body didn't cooperate. You had to feed the heat coursing through your body, otherwise you'd burn up — and you couldn't let that happen.

The room was dark when you pushed open the door. Your eyes scanned the darkness until you found him sitting on the edge of the bed. Bangchan's gaze conveyed surprise. It was a shot in the dark. He didn't think you would come.

For a moment, neither of you moved, caught in a charged silence that seemed louder than words. The dim light made everything sharper—the way his chest rose and fell, the way his eyes darkened as they lingered on you.

Your heart hammered in your chest, indecision clawing at you. Turning on your heel, you made a move to leave, but before you could take a full step, Bangchan’s hand wrapped around your wrist, firm yet electrifying.

“This is a dumb decision.”

"But here you are." Bangchan hesitated. The sight of your soft, cherry-painted lips looked so tempting that he could think of only one thing: devouring you. "Fuck it."

He reached back and clicked the door shut, the sound echoing in the heavy silence. You noticed the way his forearm flexed but quickly looked away, catching something else in his eyes instead—something raw, something dangerous.

“So,” he murmured, stepping closer, his intense gaze locking onto yours. “You know what?”

You swallowed hard, retreating step by step until your back hit the desk, the cool surface grounding you against the heat of his presence.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely steady. Holding his gaze felt impossible, especially when every nerve in your body screamed at you to close the gap.

But you didn’t move—not yet. Even though all you wanted was to tear down the distance and let the fire between you consume everything.

Bangchan’s hand found your stomach, his thumb brushing over the bare skin with maddening precision, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you. The touch was light, fleeting, but it sent a ripple of heat through your body that settled low in your core.

Before you knew it, you were perched on the edge of the table, legs parted just enough to let him step between them. His presence filled the space around you, his confidence suffocating in the most infuriating way.

He took his time, gently touching your skin with his knuckles, brushing them over your arms, until he leaned forward and placed his lips on your jaw. The tingling sensation of his lips on your skin was like taking an opiate. You felt nothing and everything at the same time.

His breath fanned your skin as he kissed the spot just below your ear, drawing a soft gasp from you. He paused, his lips trailing to your jawline, and his voice, low and rough, broke the silence. "I wished it was you. With your pretty little mouth around me. Thinking about you made me come. So fucking hard."

A sob escaped your lips. The words were painful for your sore body. His tongue crawled over your chin. Bangchan held your face with one hand, making you stare into his eyes. Naked and raw. "You like that, hmm? D’ya like knowing that I think ‘bout you?” You wanted to fight back. You didn't want to let him dominate you.

“You're fucking ridiculous.”

Bangchan’s lips curled into that infuriatingly cocky smile, the one that set your nerves on fire.

 That's his girl. With a clever mouth.

“Yeah, is that so?” He sucked on your lip, pulling you to him in painstaking haste.

“Yes.” You moaned copiously. You hissed, though the conviction in your voice wavered as his hand slid up your thigh, slow and measured. His knuckles brushed the soft skin there, and the ache he left in your wake was unbearable. With his other hand, he circled your inner thigh, climbing achingly up to your cunt.

“I want you to say that again when I make you cum. Mmm, what ya say?” He murmured, his lips brushing your ear as his other hand settled firmly on your hip. A low laugh rumbled in his chest as a shaky moan slipped from yours, unbidden but impossible to hold back. 

His hand inched higher, and you fought to keep your composure, though the heat pooling low in your stomach made it a losing battle.

“I fuckin' hate you.” you spat, though your breathless tone robbed it of any real venom.

“We'll see about that.”

His words were a promise, cocky and assured, and without leaving room for an answer, he devoured your mouth with devotion. Both bodies undulated against each other, desperate for friction, for warmth. Bangchan spread your thighs, pushing you backwards. It was so intense that your back was arching over, the two of you battling for control.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a claim. His hands moved with purpose, gripping your thigh and pulling you closer as his body pressed into yours, the heat between you like a live wire. The table groaned beneath you as he guided you back, his palm sliding up to part your legs further, making room for him to settle between them.

Your back arched against the cool surface, the contrast of heat and cold heightening every sensation. His lips left yours only to trail down your jaw, his breath hot and uneven as it ghosted over your skin. The tension in the air was suffocating, an unspoken challenge lingering between each frantic touch.

It was a fight neither of you was willing to lose, and yet, the way his hands moved, the way his lips devoured, it was clear he wasn’t about to let you win.

Your hands reached for the sweatshirt on his broad, muscular shoulders and tossed it to the floor. The gap between kisses was long enough for you to lift your own top and rip it off eagerly. You could have sworn you heard an almost beastly growl emanating from Bangchan, something completely charged with lust.

A large, calloused hand grabbed your throat, making you choke. His finger pressed against your lip, which you licked religiously, giving him a taste of what was coming. Bangchan pressed your body until you collided with the wall and your hands clung to the rim of the table. And in due time he nibbled your tit, snaking his tongue around it, savoring the tenderness of your skin.

You bit your lip down and held back a moan. Your gut rippled like the ocean waves as the intoxicating rush grew in your belly, down your legs, and scorched your toes.

You felt his hand come close to your wet core and your whole body went on alert. Bangchan bit your nipple and looked at you only to see the girl with her lips wide open, eyes bright and flushed cheeks.

This sight could kill him.

Just as he was about to come to your lips again, a knock sounded at the door. You instinctively ducked behind him, your heart hammering in your chest "Oops, sorry man!" The boy's voice echoed through the room, and with a snap, the door slammed shut.

A rush of adrenaline surged through you—not from what was happening, but the brief panic of being caught. It was ridiculous, but the sensation gripped you harder than you’d like to admit.

"Shit, I’ll lock it."

Biting your lip at the image of the man walking to the door and then to you. His lips swollen from kissing your body, the marks of nails on his chest, his messy hair, it was a perfect match.

"You know what, I'm rethinking the whole pant thing. Maybe I'll fuck you in 'em." Before he could finish, you cupped his face in both hands, stopping him in his tracks. His eyebrow quirked in interest, a silent question hanging in the air.

“I just remembered,” you said with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “A few minutes ago, you were, well... y'know. Right there.”

You both glanced toward the corner of the room, the absurdity of the situation hitting you at the same time. And, with a shared moment of clarity, laughter bubbled out of you, the tension briefly breaking.

"Right.'" He captured your mouth. Bangchan said, that familiar cocky smirk now full force. “I can fuck you anywhere,” he kissed you again, and then you lost your breath. "the backseat of my car," Again a kiss. "Any fucking place. But we can start here."

In a daze, you clung to each other like two animals. Every second you begged for air, he devoured your mouth more and more. His nimble hands fought against your pants. He wanted to touch you, to feel you.

Growling, he added. "Lift your hips for me."

You, overtaken by lust, quickly bent down on the table so that he could unbutton your pants and pull them all the way down, past your boots, which also reached down to the other side of the bedroom.

Bangchan held the back of your knees and marveled at the sight of your bare body. It was like a damn mirage. The skimpy pink panties were nothing, showing all your dampness. There was no trace of embarrassment on your face, just an unbridled urge to be taken by him.

Absorbed to your body, Bangchan held your neck with both of his hands, this time tilting your body backwards. With his own body, he splayed your legs with his free hand. Your intimacies were bare, your body bathed in the dim light streaming through the nearby window.

He captured your mouth and ran his fingers over the cloth. He squeezed his fingertips against your clit, making your clenched teeth grind together. Feeling his hand around your nape of the neck, the lack of oxygen in your lungs and the short circuit from the friction of his hand down there was electrical.

Bangchan wriggled over the fabric in slow, painful circular motions. He was excruciatingly hard inside the sweatpants. He wanted to take off and make a mess of you, but first he wanted to relish every second and push you to the limit.

"My God." Words slipped from your lips, preaching to the divine, as you felt yourself being ravished.

Bangchan stretched the fabric and stroked the core with his fingers, wetting them without caring. How he looked at you, how he looked at your tight pussy was erotic. The noises you made when he slid his fingers through your labia and then threatened to push in two fingers at the one time. It was the sensation near death. You could feel an orgasm coming gradually, in heavy, lusty waves.

If he didn't stop teasing you, you'd come too fast.

"Hang in there, baby." He brushed a finger across your lips, sliding them into your warm, wet mouth. Everything was intensified by the endearing pet name. You got proof that the rumors were true. "Spread for me... Like that." You raised your legs and placed your feet on the table, giving him a full view of your body.

You could feel the wetness everywhere. Bangchan took two fingers in your mouth and let you suck them like a piece of candy. Without taking your eyes off him for a second, you went along with it.

"Good girl."

And with the same fingers, he delved into you. His fingers in the precise curl, in the precise place that made you cry out. And if the music hadn't been deafening, everyone at the party would have heard you moaning under his fingers.

By sucking on your lower lip, he began a unique rhythm. According to the rhythm of your body snaking around him, Chan went harder and faster. Your lips opened impulsively, flowing under his. Wide-eyed, your face froze into an ethereal feature, fogged with bliss.

You took hold of his wrist, the hand in which he was thrusting into you, and forced him to go faster. You desperately wanted - needed - to reach the body-rattling orgasm. It was already becoming impossible to hide the screams that tore from your throat. He was just very skilled at doing it and left you craving more.

“Bangchan...” A pitying look on your face made him break out into a maniacal smirk. To hear his own name coming from your mouth was like a narcotic being shot into his veins. He wanted better, he wanted you to realize what you had done to him.

Letting go of your throat, which until then had been under his grasp, Bangchan got down on his knees and dived into your pussy. You groped your hand to stop yourself from bawling. Your raw nerves were on edge and any more stimulation would make you burst. But he was relentless. With his savvy tongue, he outlined movements on your clit, leaving your moistness to rub through his lips and all over your core.

“Shit, shit, shit...” You purred. Suddenly, holding onto the dark strands of the boy in front of you, bringing your body closer, provoking more friction. Bangchan took advantage of every second, kissing and suckling your vulnerable flesh, swirling around your core and tongue teasing your insides.

You were rolling on his face. Sweat trickled down your spine and temples. Incoherent utterances came from your lips as muffled moans tore from Bangchan's deep throat. That pain was building, growing in your stomach. Your body was moving in an illogical way and Bangchan had to place his palm on your lower stomach to keep you from moving.

And that's when, with his mouth still on your cunt, he pinched your clit, making you seize up. The orgasm struck you hard, spewing electric waves throughout your body, leaving you sluggish and weak. Bangchan kept hold of your body as you fell apart, an disembodied vision.

You cried out his name as you came and he made you swallow every single moan.

“Mmm, you're so fucking hot when you cum for me.”

You sat on the edge again, spreading Chan's arm muscles. Looking down, you caught yourself wondering at the sight of his hard cock framing the edge of his pants like a carving, too beautiful to just look at.

Your hands went down to the edge of the white sweatpants he was still wearing - quite unfair, given that you were only wearing a pair of panties that were now barely fit for anything. A cocky smile hung on the man's lips. He enjoyed it with his hands on the table as you took it off, gawping at the size of it. The girth. The form. It was surreal.

Bangchan was holding back. He'd dreamt of having your hands and mouth around his cock for a very long time. And now, you were there, stroking him back and forth, in a slow, excruciating rhythm. He could let you have a taste and get on your knees to him. He'd fuck your mouth so relentlessly that you'd never have another smart-ass word for him. You'd always remember that one moment.

But he was overwhelmed by the mirage of your body and the sounds it caused in you.

“Oh, fuck.” A guttural moan broke from his lips. With his mouth open, he looked at where you were fucking him, your soft hand stroking his length. It was too much. He wasn't going to last. “I need you to stop.”

“Why?”

Chan squeezed your thighs together, hating himself for not feeling your touch where he needed it most.

“As much as I want you on your knees for me, I really need to fuck you.”

You chewed your lip, sensing the heat coming back to your face and your core. "Save that pretty little mouth for next time. Yeah?"

Next time. The phrase lingered in your head, leaving you with a queasy feeling in your gut.

With one hand, he spread your legs and held your leg up high enough for him to have the reach he needed to make you come a second time. That was his trick. He knew what he was doing too well, and you loathed him for it.

“Chan...” You whimpered. He grunted and brought your bodies together. He held the shaft of his own cock and stroked it for a few seconds before brushing the tip against your slit. You gasped for air at the feeling. "Please. Chan." You pleaded, searching his eyes. It was too much of a torture and you wouldn't be able to bear it if he wasn't fast.

“Fuck, don't do it like that...” He whined, still thrusting into your hole with his own cock. “Fucking Christ.” Your wetness made him slide between the clit and the slit. Your eyes went wide, collapsing. Meanwhile, Chan was glued to the point where you connected.

Slowly, he slipped in. A moan in unison reverberated almost in praise.

He knew it wouldn't last long. Being deep inside you was driving him insane. You were making him slip, making the movements clumsy but so delicious. Bangchan pressed down on your calf, pinning it to his chest. You leaned over, holding onto his shoulder. The sight was like a fucking movie scene.

You entwined as one.

Bangchan took his time to lengthen his movements, first because he could feel every inch of your pussy swallow him up. It was so fucking good. He nibbled his lip tightly, gliding in a little more, causing you to whimper.

“Faster.” Pleas burst from your ruined lips.

“Fuuuuck.” Bangchan upped the pace, a frantic and luscious back and forth. “You're fuckin' surreal.”

He could have been saying anything, but your brain was thawing, your body morphing. Being stuffed until his balls hit your skin was opulent. Their bodies met halfway, each moving as fast as possible to get themselves there. Bangchan had to hold onto the table to avoid a hole in the wall. The furniture kept bouncing in line with your bodies.

The rapturous feeling fills you and takes you to the edge. What was left of the room was a mess of panting and skin on skin. Your hips rode the width of him. He was falling to pieces little by little, feeling his body combust.

From the way his veins seemed more prominent and thicker, his neck stiff, his sweat accentuating his smooth skin, you could tell. You rocked your body vigorously back and forth, giving him deep, dry thrusts. Bangchan then reached a point set aside to take you to heaven.

When the groans dared escape your lips, he devoured them, one by one, eating up the pleas, his name coming out of your mouth like a holy prayer that only he would hear. That was enough time for your body to succumb to the fierce orgasm and for Bangchan to pull out, thrusting with his own hand and letting go on your sweat-damp stomach.

You were still hanging on to his shoulder, trying to find your feet. Both panting and with your eyes closed, you seemed to recover some consciousness. His eyes were still clouded with desire, in a hue you had never yet witnessed.

“Well,” you said between chuckles. “I think you've just proved your point.”

Bangchan laughed and then helped you up from the desk. Your clothes were scattered around the room, your boots under a stranger's bed. You cleaned up and dressed. Make-up was intact, but your hair was a tangled mess. He watched from the corner of his eye as he put on his own underwear.

After a brief fix in the mirror, you turned around a little awkwardly, as if he hadn't just given you the best sex of your entire life.

“So, I'm going out first... Just in case... You know, anyone sees me.”

In fairness, he was quite taken aback. He hadn’t expected what had just happened to mean anything to you, but there was a part of him—just a sliver—that hoped it might shift your perspective. The realization stung his pride, but he masked it, keeping the quiet frustration buried deep inside.

"Yeah. Whatever."

You shot him a glance, your expression unreadable. "All right. Well, I guess... that’s it. I’ll see you around."

Your smile was soft, but there was an undertone of something more—a knot in your chest that wouldn’t let go. He nodded, his face as impassive as ever, his eyes giving nothing away.

With a soft exhale, you closed the door behind you and leaned against it, eyes squeezed shut.

What the fuck had you just done?

[pinnesasong]

It was quite the chilly wind that went past by, followed by the curling of lips into a shallow grimace. The boy didn't anticipate how chilly the morning could get. Vermont was beautiful, he ought to stop forgetting his cashmere coat more often. Let there be the sound of rustling—the rustling of paper, these old notes from an akin-bygone era. Of irrelevant pages torn from books; of young men parading on the school grounds for an unorthodox class session. Stick remembers the hint of confusion that sprung up in his mind when Mr. Keating decided to take the class outside the walls of their classroom, and outside the school building itself, onto the world below. For the first time in a long time, true, unadulterated freedom dared to look him in the eye. A little rude, he muses. Why here? Why now? All he's ever known was the confinement of tradition, the stasis of convention. 'We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry, because we are members of the human race.'

Nevertheless, with fondness, he traces his finger on some of the words, which he scribbled onto the parchment of his late semester's English Literature notebook. From dark, black ink shines forth a radiant spark that sizzles in his mind. Like a sparkler of warmth and vivacity set against the backdrop of a cold New Year night. The retrieval of a memory that captured him, the other Poets, and the whole classroom in varying degrees, in boyish inspiration, in vivacious wonder, in child-like wisdom. For a moment, Stick's heart aches with the familiar feeling of missing Mr. Keating. It even felt a little bit unfair to him too—Was he, or anyone else, ever to impact him in the same way that he was able, for them? 'And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering; these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love—these are what we stay alive for.' He often wonders how The Captain is doing these days. Is he back at the Chester School in London? Does he still teach literature, and if so, still working his magic to enchant these new students of his, just as he's been enchanted himself? Questions swirling like a snow flurry in his mind, he sighs deeply, leaning his head back on the tree trunk that he's been sitting against all this time. Stick stares at the bare canopies of the leafless branches of the tree, the sky above a fluttering swirl of cloud, snow, sleet, and blue-ish white matter that he doesn't know how to describe. He's not a meteorologist, nor would he ever want to be one, sorry. Maybe Richie could be a meteorologist; for he's the science to his art, anyway. Or even Stephen Meeks, the techy guy who can create a radio and speak Latin. Another exhale of breath occurs, as he closes the notebook, smiling at it softly. As his eyes focus on the distance, on the dock by the lake, he could see Neil and Todd, practicing lines for his upcoming audition, alongside a bickering Richard and Charlie seated near the water, it's probably homework. Or exam answers. Or both, Stick thinks as he giggles inwardly at the absurdity of their friendship. His lips curl upward as he registers the genteel moment—Neil's theatrics and histrionics are raw, passionate, authentic, and brilliant. So unlike his, he muses... But that's enough self-pity for the morning. These are his friends he's talking about, and he wouldn't trade them for the world. Grabbing his notebook and satchel bag, he stretches as he starts to walk towards them, setting the stage for a new day in the story of their lives.

Seize the day, boys. Make your lives extraordinary.

DEAD POETS SOCIETY dir. Peter Weir

[pelova4president]

My treat II

sugarmommies!Ingrid x Frido x sugarbaby!Reader

My treat I

summary~ The two footballers invite you into their home and offer you a proposal. You take their proposal with both hands.

!warnings! 18+ making out, fingering, oral sex, a lot of hickeys and dirty talk. not proof read.

You stood infront of their front door. It was chilly. Too chilly to be wearing the dress you were. The short navy dress didn’t cover the goosebumps appearing on your thighs and arms. You looked ahead of you, their house was huge.

Their house was abstract and modern. Classy, like the women.

Just as you wanted to make your arrival known the door opened. Ingrid stood there before you. She had a loose burgundy dress on that showed her figure perfectly. You were mesmerised by her presence.

“Would you like to come in, or do you want to keep staring out in the cold?” Ingrid grinned.

She held the door open as you stepped inside. The footballer took your jacket out of your hands and led you to their living room. “Frido will be here in a sec, make yourself at home.” She kissed your cheek before disappearing.

You looked around the room. It was spacious and modern, like the outside. But the inside had a little more character, it was warmer. Plants and lights adorned the space. There hung a large painting of a woman above their fireplace. The painting was red, passionate and vulgar, it was bold. It was the total opposite of you. But somehow you felt attracted to the art.

Hands made their way to your hips as a head was placed in the crook of your neck. “Do you like it?” she asked, that’s definitely Frido.

“hm, it’s really beautiful.” you said softly. The blonde hummed, pleased with your answer.

“You look beautiful.” she whispered, you could feel the vibrations of her words on your skin. you had to suppress your smile at that.

“Getting started without me Rolfö?” Ingrid walked into the warm room.

Fridolina took her head off your shoulder and turned but she didn’t take her hands off of you. “I wouldn’t dare.” she replied, a large grin sporting her face

Ingrid hummed at that and offered you a drink. They turned on a soft song that could be heard in every corner of the house. “You’ve got a really gorgeous house.” you complimented them.

“Thank you love, Frido designed it.” Ingrid winked as she handed you your drink.

“What can i say, i have good taste.” Fridolina said confidently, with that same smirk on her face.

You were contemplating on asking the women a question you’ve been wanting to know since you met them. And you don’t know what kind of confidence spurt entered your body but the question rolled from your tongue before you could stop it. “So what are you guys? Girlfriends? And what do you even want from me?”

Okay in your head it sounded a little less mean. ‘What do you even want from me’? why would you say it like that.

“Oh she’s got an attitude.” Frido laughed.

Ingrid didn’t think it was that funny. “I get that you’re curious but you can ask that politely.”

There was a silence that followed, even the music in the background couldn’t save you from this. Redness overtook your face. She expected you to ask her again, politely. “Why are you interested in me?” you asked embarrassed.

“Good girl, thank you. Fridolina and i are partners, yes. And although we love each other, we miss something.” Ingrid spoke.

“And that’s why we are interested in you. You’re sweet, pretty, shy and may i even say submissive. You are what we are missing, a pretty girl to go home to after a hard game.” Frido continued.

Ingrid nodded “Frido and i are both pretty dominant, we both want to take charge of a pretty girl like you. You’re a student, you need money and we can offer you that in exchange for your time.”

You looked at the dark haired woman infront of you, she was casually sipping on her glass of wine like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you. “Uh.. so you want me to sleep with you in exchange for money?” you asked them.

“No, not only sex darling. We would like to take you out on dates, vacations and other outings. This would be more than only a sexual relationship.” Frido said as she walked behind you.

She turned your kitchen stool and titled your head upwards. “Would you like a little sneak peak of whats to come, hm?” the only thing you could do was nod.

“Say it.” Frido demanded.

“Yes please.” you told her. She attacked your lips. She was more fiery this time. She was hungry. Her lips were rough on your neck as she traveled lower.

Ingrid walked around the kitchen island and made her presence known by taking your head into her hands. She pressed her lips to yours. Her lips were soft on yours. She tasted sweet, like the perfume she wore.

“Hmm, you like how rough Frido is, love?” you groan at Ingrid’s words.

Your eyes were shut, enjoying the feeling of lips on your neck. Dark red patches or dominance were left along your collarbone.

And then you felt nothing but the soft sting of those patches. You opened your eyes to see a literal breath taking sight infront of you. It was as if the women took the air out of the room. Ingrid and Frido were making out infront of you.

You could hear Ingrid moan as her girlfriend bit on her lip. Ingrid’s hands tangled themselves in blonde hair. It was a sight for sore eyes.

Although you loved watching the women, you felt a bit left out. The desperate whine that left your mouth caused the women to break the kiss.

"Hmm, you're not very patient, are you?" Frido teased you. Ingrid's pupils were blown, she wanted you just as much as you wanted them.

"It's unfair, you keep teasing me." you groaned at the women.

Even Ingrid had to surpress her laughter at that. They had been teasing you all night, waiting on a reaction. They wanted to have you begging for them at the end of the night. "Tell us what you want and maybe we'll give it to you, hm?" Ingrid smirked.

"I want you both." you told them with begging eyes. But by looking at their faces you knew they wanted to hear more. "... please?"

"Hm, do you think she deserves it?" Frido asked her girlfriend. They acted like you weren't right infront of them and you were eating it up.

"As much as i like to see her desparate and begging, i need more of her." Ingrid looked right into your eyes as she said the last part.

The footballer led you to the large sofa where she pushed you down. Her lips attacked yours and her hands fled to push the top of your dress down. Her warm kisses traveled to your neck and shoulders. "God, i've wanted you since i saw you at that interview." she whispered.

Rolfö took your head in her hands, kissing you hard and long. "You're fucking perfect." she said against your lips.

You were beyond hot and bothered, you were desparate for more. "Please, need more." you whispered against Frido.

Ingrid's mouth latched onto your nipple, her mouth was soft and warm. She hiked the hem of your dress up, her knee sliding in between your legs and pressing up against your clothed pussy.

The blonde kissed along your jaw up to your hot and red ears. As Frido bit in your sensitive ear, Ingrid's fingers pressed down on your clit. It was as if they were in sync.

Ingrid couldn't tease you much longer, she had to have you. They could play this teasing game another time. Her hand dipped into your lace panties. Her fingers were welcomed by wetness. You were soaked.

"God, Frido you have to see this. Did you get this turned on by our teasing, love?" Ingrid held up her fingers, sticky with your juices. The woman moved her fingers towards her girlfriend's mouth and without saying anything Frido took her fingers into her mouth.

The image of Frido, hair messed up by your needy hands, lips red and swollen, tasting you off of her lover's fingers. You moaned as Ingrid moved her hand back to your pussy and started making out with Frido.

A finger entered you and your head fell back. long fingers found a home in your hair and lips returned to your ear. "Let Ingrid make you feel good, darling." her words were hot and her tone heavy. They made you go insane.

When Ingrid slid another finger in and her mouth worked on your clit you couldn't hold your sounds in anymore. "Let us hear you. You sound so fucking hot." Frido said.

You could only nod, not a singular word made it past your lips. "Yeah, you like being fucked dumb by us. You like being used. I promise that this is only the beginning." Frido grabbed your tits, pinching your buds hard. Your back arched off the couch as Ingrid's fingers sped up.

"Yes, just like that. Fuck yourself on her fingers. God, you're perfect." Frido praised you. Ingrid didn't have to do much more to make you cum.

"Fuck. fuck- i'm gonna cum." you moaned out. Your eyebrows were knitted together als the knot in your stomach got tighter. Ingrid sucked harder and you the knot came undone.

Her fingers slowed down as you came down from your high. Ingrid left kisses on the inside of your thighs. "You were so good for us, baby. You did so so good." she placed a soft kiss to your lips.

"We're gonna get you cleaned up, is that okay love?" Frido asked softly, still pampering you with kisses. You felt like you were on cloud nine with these beautiful women caring for you.

You hummed and Frido went to fill their bathtub up. You laid in Ingrid's arms as she praised you.

When Frido came back down she carried you to their bathroom. She washed you with care and sung lullabies as she massaged your scalp.

Ingrid had placed a cup of tea on one of their nightstands and some clean panties and a camisole. Their bed was warm as you crawled into it. The Swede put her arms around you and fell fast asleep.

Her breath evened out as you look up at Ingrid. She has her reading glasses on, the yellow light glowing on her smooth skin. Her brows were furrowed until she looked up from her book and at you. She had caught you staring, again. The corners of her mouth went up. "Get some rest, you're gonna need it, love." she winked.

Although this was new, fiery and wild. Something about it felt fitting. Frido and Ingrid were like the painting, passionate, confident and bold. You felt attracted to them. Maybe they were exactly what you needed.

A.N. I really love the messages in my inbox so thank you for the support. I don't know how i'm gonna continue this and what i'll write about next. But we'll see, if the right idea comes i'll probably write another part.

[chocobje]

How I like to characterize Sprout is that he’s great talking with the ones he’s close with (Cosmo, Astro, etc.) But incredibly socially awkward with others. He comes off as brash, but he’s trying his best.

What guidelines do you try to follow when writing Sprout? I’m just curious.

Thanks for giving me the opportunity to yap about one of my favourite characters hehe..

You asked for guidelines I gave you a character analysis instead.

(Don't mind the images I didn't want this post to look naked)

ALSO NOTE THAT AT THE END OF THE DAY THIS IS MERELY MY INTERPRETATION OF HIS CHARACTER. EVERYONE HAS THEIR OWN!! Don't take my post as a mandatory guide to follow.

Let's talk about what's canon:

I like checking the Wikipedia for his dialogues every now and then to make sure he's not too out-of-character.

Sprout comes off as blunt, he does not sugarcoat his words when he has something to say.

Not even an excuse or a reason as to why he doesn't want to join Teagan for tea; It was straight up a "no" until Teagan told him Cosmo will join them too. (Also I want to point out he doesn't immediately say yes when he's told Cosmo will be there, so for all we know he'd still decline even if his best friend's joining Teagan).

Dandy's dialogue when you purchase Sprout. I think about it a lot. Out of all the character dialogues, the one with Astro is what I feel like is an example of his overprotectiveness coming across as "pushy".

He'd definitely be the type to scold his friends. Especially after Gardenview's shutdown with all the Twisteds wreaking havoc and whatnot. I don't think Sprout is fond of going on runs, but only does so he can watch over everyone and keep them safe. He makes sure everyone is focused and on high alert, he doesn't want anyone to be reckless.

He prioritizes safety over answers. His dialogue with Rodger shows that. Maybe he's also curious as to what has happened, because in Vee's dialogue he tried talking to Dandy only for Dandy to walk away. I assume Sprout just wanted to check up on him rather than knowing what's going on with Gardenview and the Twisteds.

Another thing I don't really see often is how Sprout is actually pretty forgetful and impulsive.

For a Toon who's constantly keeping watch on everyone he surely does not apply the same kind of attention to himself.

He talks before thinking about his words, but once he realized that he immediately apologized to Vee. I don't think he always notices when he comes across as rude though.

I actually think he's actually quite reckless when he bakes. I obviously can't show it in this post but if you look at that animation with Cosmo and Sprout baking they're not even measuring the ingredients. I mean what. 😭

The way he bakes feels so impulsive and it just looked like they were winging it. Somehow despite that their baked goods still end up great and that's honestly impressive.

Okay now for that dialogue between Bobette and Sprout, I was getting there-- I've never made a gingerbread house but from what I've seen from other people it requires a lot more patience and carefulness.

Sprout is neither.

According to him, his gingerbread house fell apart immediately and then he stopped trying afterwards. It's honestly funny.

I feel like this also shows through his stats. Both his extraction speed and skillcheck is 2 stars. His stamina and speed is way higher. He prefers running around, probably to make sure he can watch over everyone during their runs. That or because he has long legs.

Anyway to recap; Sprout in canon is blunt, pushy, overprotective, and impulsive. But he genuinely has good intentions and means well. He cares for his friends, which is why he scolds them because he wants to make sure they're safe.

Now for some headcanons:

Okay this is the part where I make stuff up. So it's just my take;

• He has ADHD.

I'M STARTING WITH THE NEURODIVERGENT HEADCANON.

This is not a unique headcanon. I've seen so many people who headcanons this too so it's relatively popular. Personally, I only see him with ADHD. (I'm projecting).

He's forgetful, impulsive, and quite socially awkward in a way aswell. He's easily distracted. He keeps forgetting about the oven. He's impulsive when baking. I'm a very impulsive and reckless person myself, I constantly make mistakes when I draw, yet somehow they end up okay 😭. When I'm not able to draw something right, I give up immediately. (I projected this onto the gingerbread house thing earlier).

• He comes across as intimidating.

You know in Kids' birthday parties when there's a mascot a lotta kids go run and hide? I based it off of that. I remember when I was like, 6 or 7, when a mascot came in I cried and hid under a table. They were tall.. <\3

I feel like there was a concerning number of kids who were actually afraid of him, despite how friendly he appears both in person and in the show. Maybe it's the RBF when he's not smiling..

I also like to think he's taller than some of the kids who comes to Gardenview which plays a factor to the whole "intimidating" thing. The way Sprout deals with this is giving the kids cupcakes or other sweets. Once the kids actually talk to him they're immediately comfortable.

• He was one of the very first to become "Twisted".

I don't have a concrete idea on how the story of the game goes, but I always imagine the Mains being the first victims. Sprout is a healer and he keeps an eye on everyone, so he had to go first.

–

Okay, I think that's all now. If you read all of that wow thanks, this took me hours to write 😭. I love overanalysing characters.

[lenorenevermore99]

Why 457 is actually valid af and not just a "joke" ship

I wanna start this by saying that I'm in no way, shape or form convinced 457 is canon nor I think there will be anything remotely romantic between the two of them in season 3. But people seem to think it's just a joke inside the fandom, while actually, their dynamic is pretty fucking valid and I want to analyze that in this post.

One of the most discussed things (if not the most) when it comes to this ship is the stares.

Some think this is the stare of love, others think In-ho just enjoys seeing him suffer. Well, let me tell you it is neither.

But before we delve into the way In-ho stares at Gi-hun, we first have to go back to talk about Hwang In-ho as a character.

As we know, Hwang In-ho is the Winner of the 2015 Squid Game. He went into the games so he could have the money to treat his sick, pregnant wife, much like Gi-hun who did the same for his sick mother. Both of them won the game, but both of them were too late to save the person they loved from a sad fate.

This lead to In-ho becoming the Frontman. We don't know exactly what happened in the timeframe between him winning and him becoming the Frontman, but we can safely assume that after loosing his wife, In-ho lost faith in humanity. The games have destroyed him, they turned him into the villain he is today.

And the thing is, when he looks at Gi-hun, he sees his past self in him. This was confirmed by both Lee Byung Hun (In-ho's actor) and the director of the show himself.

Or to be more precise, he sees his past self. He sees who he was before the games changed him. And this is what led to his fascination and obsession with Gi-hun, because here's the thing; the games traumatized Gi-hun, but they didn't break his faith and hope in humanity, like they did with In-ho himself.

And this is the thing that, in my view, both fascinates and deeply angers In-ho. Deep inside, subconsciously, he is thinking, "Why were YOU able to retain your hope in humanity? Why were you able to remain a good person when I couldn't?"

In-ho was genuine when he told Gi-hun he wished he'd try to be happy after winning (or to better say, surviving) the games. I find it especially interesting when he tells him "Just pretend it was all a dream."

In-ho wishes he could pretend it was all a dream, but he couldn't. Think about it: he's a billionaire, but he lives in a shitty, small apartment. He doesn't talk to his mother, he doesn't talk to his brother, he doesn't even go visit his wife at the cemetery. Pardon me for borrowing the phrase from The Hunger Games, but he's not living the life of a victor. whether it's because he feels guilty or something else, I guess we'll find out in the next season, but that's not the point. The point is, that In-ho wants Gi-hun to do what he wasn't able to do after he won. He wants him to be happy because he sees himself in Gi-hun.

This is the most important point in this post.

Now I wanna focus on these moments. During the second game, during mingle, and during the lights-out massacre, we see Gi-hun being absolutely destroyed over the players that were killed. He's undoubtedly blaming himself for it. And here we see In-ho staring at him, not with the look of love, not with joy at his suffering, but with sorrow. He's sad for Gi-hun, because he could have spared himself further suffering if he didn't stubbornly decide to go back into the games.

What In-ho is thinking right here, in my view, is; "See? There is no hope. There is nothing you can do. Stop torturing yourself, just give it up already. How much more pain do you have to go through before you give up? Accept you can do nothing and go on with your life. Try to be happy."

Now you might be asking, okay, but what does that have to do with romantic love?

Well let me tell you that these feelings I just described can easily and quickly turn into love.

Many philosophers over the centuries have come to the same conclusion; we see part of ourselves in the people we fall in love with.

"The Front Man believes that Gi-hun is wrong in his way of thinking, but perhaps, he reflects on himself through Gi-hun. He does want to destroy Gi-hun's belief. I felt that a small part of him, unknowingly, might be hoping for Gi-hun's thoughts to be right. And rooting for him in some way."

These words Lee Byung Hun said about In-ho, makes me think of Jacques Lacan's theory in particular (which is a rather complex topic and I will try to summarize as shortly and as simply as I can).

For Lacan, love, at least in the beginning, is essentially a form of narcissism. When we fall in love, we're also falling in love with ourselves. We see ourselves in the other person, but we also see in the other what we subconsciously think we are lacking in ourselves. Which doesn't mean the other person will fix us because, at least according to Lacan, this lack is something that can never actually be "fixed".

And I think that's exactly was is happening with In-ho. He sees in Gi-hun what he's lacking in himself. They were traumatized the same way, but reacted in two completely different manners. In-ho became cruel and disillusioned with humanity, while Gi-hun still believes in humanity and wants to save everyone.

I know that this way, 457 seems like a one-sided kind of love, but that's honestly my personal interpretation of the ship. I think Gi-hun could have fallen for Young-il, for the person In-ho was before the games, if they had more time. But the Frontman In-ho? The person he became after becoming the Frontman? There's no way.

Not all loves are meant to happen, not all lovers get to be lovers. Some are meant to just leave us wondering what could have been. Which is what makes transformative works so fun and interesting! From the canonverse toxic fics to the wholesome alternative universe flower shop fics, I think their dynamic is valid as fuck.

I rest my case.

[eclecticbirdmoon]

Decided I’d share some info about my OCs :D

Blue for Maverick and orange for Fenwick (DND oc)

1) Lewis McCartney from H2O and not yet

2) She’s a WIP oc, Sage, but they met as neighbours and a witch that lived by the river Fenwick would visit

3) I do not remember many songs

4) I will find some eventually

5) No not yet and no

6) If she was, she’d probs be a DJ with no backup job haha

7) He would SO be a half-orc but a bard!!

8) He likes too cook, he’s plays video games but mostly, he annotates magazines and she pulls things apart for fun, mostly bikes lol

9) He’s rather healthy! He works about and eats healthy but a not quite recovering caffeine addict haha and she mostly eats fish and that’s all she needs really and unintentionally stays active but she’s not careful so she gets sick and injured quite often

10) Mostly but sometimes he gets too focused on a person and how they are rather then himself and when he gets stressed he forgets and she mostly content but struggles a lot with her memory which negatively affects her, she hasn’t gone into combat as of yet and barely uses her powers (emotion and memory harvesting and manipulation)

11) He was inspired by Curly from the game “Mouthwashing”, Shayne Topp from Smosh and a little from Top Gun: Maverick haha and she was inspired by a random Pinterest photo

12) Not yet for both

13) Nope! I would say his dad but he’s moved on from him and she does not! Yet

14) He watched Arcane and despises Finn with a passion and she does not really hate anyone

15) Yeah he will make it but I don’t know about her…

16) He loves his mum but has a light resentment towards his dad, use to hate him but decided he wasn’t worth his time and she doesn’t not remember her parents

17) He doesn’t but I’d imagine if he did, he would be pretty good and love them but would find it hard deciding what the appropriate approach to situations would be and she won’t have any kids, don’t think she’s ever considered it

18) He goes by him/him and just Maverick or any nicknames you come up with and she’s never considered that prefers to sue it/it’s but finds the concept of gender weird

19) He’s bi with a preference for women and she’s a women lover but hasn’t met anyone so she doesn’t know that yet lol

20) He’d probably grab any objects around to throw at them but he’s actually pretty strong so himself as a last resort lol and she’d use her powers but if went physical, use her talons to dig in and bat her wings lolol

21) Eventually I’m sure

22) Depends on the context and if other people are involved, he’s more lover tho and she’s fight for sure, but some weird gray area between lover and fighter

23) Yep, he doesn’t have a car yet but he might walk or try to convince his mum to give me a ride haha and no she is not oof

24) Had a guitar phase and could play a little tune or learn song with ease but it’s not a hobby anymore and no

25) Oh 100%! In the car, doing the dishes, anywhere and if he’s alone and isn’t singing something to himself, he’s probably sad lmaoo and she pretends she can resist and very good at it too

26) Both Singapore orchids but his are blue and hers are orange, which is why I picked the text colours

27) He’s a dog for sure, golden retriever and Bernese mountain dog mix and she’d be a grebe (bird), personality wise and looks

28) He’s always been welcomed to popular sporty groups but he feels most comfortable with the more unique and different groups and she’d be in the artist group and I cannot draw sadly but I plan of learning

29) A moodboard I can do! Which I will do soon :)

30) He’d be hesitant at first but he’d be nice, and eventually you’d be good friends and she’s a hard shell to crack so you will need to work for it haha, she’d run away at first

Have a great day ^^

Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

3) What song describes your OC?

4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?

8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?

17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?

19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?

20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?

21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?

22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?

24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?

25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?

26) What flower do you associate your OC with?

27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?

28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)

[shinig6mis]

it had been a few seconds since bakugou had knocked on your door, but it felt like a lifetime. his mind raced in circles, not knowing whether his thoughts were rooted in paranoia or if there was some truth to them. why hadn't you texted him? it wasn’t like you two had a strict routine or anything, but after everything that had happened last night—how you two had stayed together, cuddling and falling asleep—he couldn't shake the feeling that something was different.

every other night, you've been in and out of his apartment, always leaving within ten minutes. but last night, something different happened. he couldn’t explain it, but it felt right to be lying there with you, sharing your warmth, hearing the steady rhythm of your breathing as you fell asleep. he could still feel the weight of you in his arms, the way you fit against him perfectly like you were meant to be there.

then, when he woke up, you were gone. no text. no call. no nothing. his heart squeezed painfully at the thought of it and he found himself racking his brain with the worst possible scenarios. maybe it had been too much. maybe crossing that boundary had been the mistake. maybe you’d seen the intimacy between you both as a sign that this arrangement had to end. maybe you regretted it, and that terrified him.

so, here he was, standing at your door, hands tense by his sides, hoping he wasn’t about to hear something he wasn’t ready to face.

when you finally opened the door, your eyes were slightly puffy, your hair pulled up in a messy bun, and you looked far too tired for someone who just woke up. the faint glow of a desk lamp illuminated your room. his eyes went to glance at the textbooks scattered on your desk and the laptop still open with whatever assignments you had yet to finish.

“bakugou?” you blinked in confusion. “what are you doing here?”

“i—uh…” bakugou started, caught off guard by the sight of you. you were wearing those loose pajamas that he secretly found adorable. “can i come in?”

you didn’t hesitate, stepping aside to let him into your room. the moment he entered, he made a beeline for your bed, sitting down, while you stood across from him, arms crossed in that way you always did.

his eyes stayed on you as he tried to gather his words. “you didn’t text after last night,” he finally blurted, his voice rough as always, but the worry in his tone was clear. he couldn’t stand it anymore.

you let out a soft sigh and explained, “i’ve been buried in assignments, bakugou. aizawa’s been on my ass, and i just haven’t had the time to check my phone.”

he exhaled deeply, the tension in his shoulders easing as you spoke. he’d convinced himself he’d lost you, but hearing that explanation made everything feel weirdly better. “so, no… nothing’s wrong?” he hated how nervous he sounded, but he couldn’t help it. this arrangement you both have meant more to him than he was willing to admit, and the thought of losing it scared the hell out of him.

you raised an eyebrow, taking a moment before saying, “we can talk about last night tomorrow if you want. for now… just stay. sleep over if you want. you can be annoying and overbearing in the morning.”

the relief that washed over him was almost overwhelming. he hadn’t realized how much the silence had been eating at him until now. you weren’t breaking things off. you were just distracted, which was probably what he should’ve assumed in the first place. but he couldn’t stop thinking that maybe, just maybe, he had crossed a line he wasn’t supposed to.

for the rest of the night, you sat at your desk, buried in your work, while he watched you, propped up on your bed with his arm supporting his head.

it was quiet. only the sound of your focused typing and the occasional shuffle of papers filling the space between you two. he couldn't help but appreciate the view, watching you get lost in your assignments. despite how complicated this arrangement felt sometimes, he loved the fact that he was the only one who ever got to see you like this. no one else.

he stayed there, his mind quiet for the first time in hours, just taking in the sight of you. you were everything to him in that moment, even if you didn’t know it.

time passed, and eventually, you closed your laptop and crawled into bed. without saying anything, you curled up under the blanket, pulling it tightly around you. bakugou hesitated for a second before sliding in behind you, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer. he buried his face into the back of your neck, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, the softness of your skin.

he felt the tension leave his body as he held you, but his mind still wouldn’t let go. there was a an annoying part of him that wondered what you really thought of him. if you felt the same or if you didn’t. if this was all just temporary to you. but the other part of him that refused to let go of his pride was content just being here. being with you. even if nothing between you was official.

you shifted slightly in his arms, making him tighten his hold on you. it wasn’t perfect. it wasn’t what he had expected when he first got into this arrangement with you. but right now, with you in his arms, it was enough. and maybe, he could keep pretending that it always would be.

© 2025 shinig6mis | do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my work.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Breathe on your own - Lewis Hamilton

genre: fluff (bit of angst, but you guys know the drill by now, angst to constrast the fluff)

wordcount: +2k

a/n: I know i've been missing but I had to get a piece on this past week and how it felt to see Lewis get the love he deserves.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

“Babe, did I butcher it?” he asked, his voice tinged with self-doubt, and I knew exactly what he meant without needing clarification.

Lewis had dropped his bag by the entryway to our hotel room, the weariness of the day etched into his shoulders. But still, there was a quiet energy to him—a hum beneath the surface. He was turned to me, his brow furrowed in thought, though the corners of his lips quirked upward.

“Butcher what exactly?” I feigned ignorance, crossing my arms and leaning against the back of the couch, watching him closely.

“The italian.” He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. “I said ‘grazie mille’ to that grandpa on the lobby, but I think I got the accent all wrong. He looked at me funny.”

A soft laugh escaped me, one I didn’t try to hide.

He was so earnest, so uncharacteristically unsure of himself in this small way. It was adorable.

“You nailed it,” I assured him, stepping closer. “It’s just they don’t really expect you to understand them. That’s what threw him.”

He blinked at me, his lips parting as though he was about to protest, but then his expression shifted. He grinned, that slow, boyish grin I hadn’t seen in what felt like forever, and it nearly took my breath away.

“You sure?” he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly, playful now.

“Positive” I said firmly, reaching up to smooth the warms to his jumper. The fabric soft under my fingers, but his warmth was what I felt most. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. They adore you already… Maybe they always have”

He exhaled deeply, the tension in his shoulders easing a fraction more, and for a moment, he just looked at me. Really looked at me, like he was searching for something and had found it.

“They were chanting” he said quietly, almost to himself. “For me. I never thought…” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head, as if the thought itself was too audacious to complete.

I smiled softly, brushing my hand along his arm. “You’re Lewis Hamilton. They know what you’re capable of.”

He hesitated, and I saw it then—the flicker of doubt that had plagued him for so long. But it was faint, almost extinguished.

“I just… I didn’t think I’d feel this way” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Driving that car, hearing them… it’s been so long…”

“Since what?” I prompted gently, though I thought I already knew the answer.

“Since I got to have fun out there” he said simply, and his gaze met mine again, raw and unguarded.

My chest tightened, and I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

There he was—the man I’d seen struggle and stumble, who’d carried the weight of expectations and doubts, both his own and others’, for far too long.

And here he was now, standing just a little taller, his voice a little steadier, the glint of hope returning to his eyes.

I stepped closer, slipping my arms around his waist, and he pulled me in without hesitation, his forehead resting lightly on mine.

“No matter where —Mclaren, Mercedes, or Ferrari— you’re still you. And you’re still everything they believe you are” I murmured against his lips.

And I felt the way he exhaled, the way his arms tightened around me.

It was enough. So much more than enough.

After a moment, he pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eye now. “Grazie mille, amore” he said, his voice dipping into a mock-Italian accent that was horrendous and endearing all at once.

I laughed, swatting his arm lightly. “That one was terrible.”

“I’ll work on it,” he said, grinning and leaving me to head to the bathroom.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, his smile didn’t look forced.

And his joy was contagious yes, but beneath my own smile, I felt the weight of everything that had brought us here.

To the point of so much relief in a sincere smile.

As Lewis’s steps drifted faintly, I stayed frozen in place, the warmth of his smile lingering like a phantom touch.

I let my eyes close, but all it did was bring back memories. Memories I wished I could bury, ones that still sat heavy in the quiet corners of my mind.

It had started with a shift so small, I almost missed it.

The slight hesitation in his voice. The way he’d press his lips together after team meetings, his jaw tight as if he was physically holding back what he wanted to say. He had always been so composed, so unshakable in public.

But last year, cracks had formed in the armor he’d worn for so long.

I remembered one particular day, not long after he’d made his decision to leave Mercedes. It was a rare evening when he didn’t have an appearance or a debrief. We’d been sitting on the couch, half-watching something on TV, though neither of us was paying attention.

I had asked him how he was feeling—just a simple question.

“I’m tired, Y/n” he had admitted, his voice barely audible. “I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. It’s like… it’s like running in quicksand.”

I had reached for his hand, threading my fingers through his, and squeezed tightly, desperate to anchor him. “You’re not. It’s the car. It’s not you.”

But he had only shaken his head, his gaze distant. “I don’t know if I believe that anymore.”

It had crushed me to hear it, to see the man who had conquered the world so many times over doubt himself like that.

And yet, I couldn’t show him how scared I was, how deeply it hurt to see him lose faith. So I had buried my own fears, locked them away, and poured everything I had into lifting him up.

There were so many moments like that after though.

The time Toto made that offhand comment about drivers and their “expiration date.” Lewis had heard about it from a journalist, of all people. He brushed it to the side, didn’t say a word about it to anyone after, but he didn’t have to.

 I’d seen the tension in his posture, the way he picked at his food that day without eating much of it. He’d gone to bed early that night, and I’d lain awake for hours, rereading that book to find a different meaning, something that would say it was just a misunderstanding.

And then there was that factory visit—the one I could barely bring myself to think about even now. It had been his last as a driver, and I had gone with him, knowing he wouldn’t ask but needing to be there anyway.

He had been quiet that day, too quiet. As we walked through the familiar halls, shaking hands with staff, posing for photos, I watched him closely. His smile was polite, his words gracious, but there was no spark in his eyes. No pride.

When we left, he hadn’t said a word until we were in the car. And even then, it wasn’t much.

“They’ve been good to me,” he had murmured, staring out the window. “I’ll always be grateful for that.”

I had nodded, unsure what to say, because what exactly does anyone say to that? No words could ease the weight of walking away from a team that had been his home for so long.

But the worst moments—the ones that haunted me the most—were the ones no one else saw.

The nights when he’d wake up in the early hours and just sit on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. The nights when he’d stare at himself in the mirror, not with the confidence I’d always known, but with doubt into every line of his face.

I had tried to held him through it all, whispering words of reassurance, even when I wasn’t sure he believed me.

Even when I wasn’t sure I believed myself.

And I couldn’t help but compare to how his eyes had lit up today, how he’d stood a little taller as the tifosi chanted his name.

Because they believe in him.

My mind was still caught in the grip of the past year—those heavy days, the unseen cracks Lewis had fought so hard to mend when a sound broke through the silence: soft, unassuming, yet unmistakable.

A hum.

It started low, barely a whisper, and then grew, wrapping itself around the air in the room.

My heart stuttered, the sound pulling me out of my spiral. I followed it to its source, finding Lewis in the mirror, silhouette highlighted by the towel in his waist.

“What’s that tune?” I asked, my voice cutting gently through the moment. He turned, startled, and then offered a sheepish grin, the kind that reached his eyes and melted years of tension off his face.

“Didn’t realize I was doing it,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes sparkled, the weight they’d carried for so long noticeably lighter. “Guess it’s been a good day.”

I smiled, leaning against the doorframe. “Good day doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

I headed to him and he helped me to sit on the marble counter. My hands resting loosely around his neck as he looked at me. “C’mon, spill. How are you really feeling?”

Lewis hesitated for a moment, his hands drawing lazy patterns on my thighs, his shoulders dropping as he exhaled deeply. The sound was more release than sigh, a letting go of something long held in.

“It’s… hard to put into words,” he began, his voice thoughtful. “I wasn’t sure how it would go. Driving for Ferrari…  What if I didn’t fit? What if they didn’t want me there for my driving?”

I stayed quiet, giving him space to find his rhythm. His fingers fidgeted slightly, betraying the vulnerability beneath his calm exterior.

“But the tifosi…” He shook his head, his expression a mix of wonder and disbelief. “They welcomed me like I’d always been one of theirs. Chanting my name, waving flags, shouting things I barely understood but could feel, you know? That… that was something else.”

“And the car?” I prompted softly.

A smile broke across his face, wide and unguarded. “The car,” he echoed, leaning back when letting a chuckle out. “Gosh I know they hate the SF23, but it felt good. Familiar in the ways that matter and different in the ways that make it exciting. For the first time in so long, I felt like… It reminded me that it wasn’t just me. The struggles, the frustrations… they weren’t just me.”

His voice grew softer, almost reverent. “And I know this is no confirmation of anything, but for the first time in ages, I’m not afraid to hope. I don’t know what’s ahead, but today… it felt like a start.”

My chest tightened, pride and relief in equal measure. I reached out, covering his hand with mine. “You deserved this,” I put simply. “Every bit of it.”

He turned his hand over, intertwining his fingers with mine. The warmth in his gaze was enough to light the room.

He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my hand. “It’s good to feel like myself again” he said quietly, the words carrying the weight of everything left unspoken.

“It’s good to see you like this” I replied, my voice equally soft.

He tilted his head, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “And the humming? You’re not gonna tease me about that?”

I grinned, leaning closer. “I’m saving that for later. Don’t you worry.”

His laughter echoed again, and in that moment, it felt like the room, the city, the whole world had exhaled along with him.

As he pulled me into his arms, humming that same tune against my ear, I closed my eyes, letting the sound wash over me. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt just as it should.

It was real—that lightness he was rediscovering, the hope that the best could still be to come.

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[edward-munson]

mess of me | S.H.

Summary: Steve breaks a promise and it ruins your friendship. He doesn't hide the frustration about the possibility of seeing you leave Hawkins.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MDNI), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, slight praising

Word count: 2.8k

♥

Steve likes the way you dress up when you go out with your group of friends, but this is the second time he sees you in a bikini. And it makes him want to punch his own face.

You all decided to take a small trip to a lake with a waterfall. The late spring days started to feel hotter and you just wanted to do something different. Hawkins isn't exactly the best destination to spend a day doing something good.

He watches as you swim with Robin and the other girls. She splashes water at you as you both laugh. Nancy and Jonathan are enjoying the waterfall, all while Argyle and the boys fight with water guns.

Steve is sitting next to Eddie under the sunshade, the latter reading a fictional book as he wears dark shorts, a bandana wrapped around his hair that's tied in a ponytail.

"If you keep looking at her that much, I'm pretty sure she's gonna have third degree burns from your staring" Eddie speaks up, still focused on his book.

He snaps his head to the side, scoffing at his friend's words. "M'not looking at anyone. Just watching the view from the lake"

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head. "Yeah, right. The view, huh?"

"Shut up, Munson" He rolls his eyes.

They're talking about you. You are the reason why Steve keeps staring too much at the lake, not even caring to jump in the water for a refresh. His friend knows you don't get along with him ever since he broke his promise of keeping your secret safe with him.

He ended up telling everyone you were planning on going back to New York. No one knew about your plans, not even Robin who's your closest friend after him. You didn't want to tell them just yet.

They were disappointed at you at first. But then, they all seem pretty understandable. Because any other place in the country would be better than Hawkins. Even if your friends lived there, even if the man you ever really liked lived there.

Even if it meant being away from everything that made you feel safe and happy. And Steve was mad at you because of that. He was mad you were willing to get away from them. He thought you were running away from everything.

He never really meant to betray you. He was nervous, frustrated. He didn't want you to leave. He still doesn't want you to leave. If he thinks too much about it, his body starts to get rigid and tense. His fingers curl in rage.

Eddie knows all about his friend's feelings. He knows how much he cares about you, how he would fight for you to stay. But now, you can't even really look at him without feeling sad and angry. Angry because you trusted him. Sad because you thought you had his back.

You've been friends for almost a year now, but you're close enough to trust each other. That's what you actually thought until he told everyone you were leaving soon. Now you just can't stand looking at his face.

His pretty fucking face, painted with moles of various sizes. His sun-kissed skin, strong muscles and sharp jawline. Maybe this is one of the reasons you have doubts about staying. But who knows if you're his type anyway.

Through his sunglasses he can't keep his eyes off you. His jaw is clenched and his teeth are gnashing from the pressure. All he wanted to do right now was to push you against a wall and ruin you. Not even in a good way, because he can't stand the fact he has to deal with your cold shoulder.

And he knows he did wrong with you. It wasn't his intention to. And he apologized whenever he could. He would kneel in front of you at random moments and apologize. He would send you roses with small notes. Damn, he would leave letters on your doorstep. But you would never respond to them, you would never actually let him know if he was forgiven. Steve didn't want to see you leave without forgiving him. And it was chewing him alive.

He watched as you got off the lake, grabbing a towel and drying yourself before you walked back to the car to pick a snack. He took it as an opportunity to follow you. You were fumbling through the basket looking for a bag of doritos when he stood right beside you, leaning against the car.

"Fuck off, Harrington" You grumbled, not even daring to look at him.

You recognized him by his scent, and you hated that you knew him just that much.

He didn't answer. Rather, he crossed his arms and waited until you finally picked what you wanted. You gave him silence again, and he sighed.

"How many times do you still want me to apologize? Because I'll do it"

"Doesn't matter, Steve. That's the problem, you were so selfish you couldn't keep my fucking secret safe with you for more than a week!" You snapped at him. He seemed unfazed by your anger because that's how you've been treating him ever since then.

"I was desperate because how could you even do that to us? You're leaving everything and everyone behind!" He pulled back from the car, extending his arm in exasperation.

"I don't want to go through this again, especially with you. I told you why, I don't think I have to give you an explanation for my decisions"

As you tried to walk back to the lake, he gripped your forearm carefully so he wouldn't hurt you. Steve pulled you back only a few steps, hesitantly closing the distance. You didn't want to be this close to him, it was too hard to look at his face.

"You're right, you don't. But– it's hard to let you leave" He looked at your face, how you were still hurt.

You were avoiding his gaze at all costs. His hazel eyes were too intense at this point.

"We barely know each other, Harrington. We've only met months ago. Don't say things like that when you don't mean them"

"The way you think you know me is so frustrating, by the way" He places his forefinger under your chin and lifts your face so you can finally look at him. "Stop being so stubborn, please look at me"

It takes several seconds for you to give in. You're still angry at him, you still wish you could just punch his perfect face. But you stay still without saying a word. Your creased brows are the only response he gets besides your watery eyes. You obviously want to cry. You wish you had another option, but you already made peace with the fact you want to leave Hawkins.

"I'm fucking sorry I was an idiot. I never wanted to hurt you in any fucking way. And if I could actually go back in time I would shut my fucking mouth" He curses through every sentence. His irises are almost burning holes into yours from the intense staring.

You keep looking at each other. Your mouth is closed in a thin line because what else can you say? You're reluctant about forgiving him. But maybe it's time to give up on it and finally move past it.

You’re both quiet, he crosses his arms again and just stands there with his head hanging low. You’re not sure what you should do. You don’t know what’s the right thing to do right now. You hate the situation, you just didn’t want it to be like that. 

“Just-” He sighs deeply. “Think about it, alright? I’m not gonna force you into doing anything”

You nod. There’s a small tension between you two, and you the meaning of all of this conversation. 

"You know you're very obvious about the way you look at me, right?" You suddenly ask, watching his expression turn into surprise as his eyes widen. You can't help but smirk. "Everyone keeps saying you're not exactly disguising it".

"What– I never did that" He tries to be oblivious, his tone was nervous and he averted his eyes from yours.

You chuckle at his defensive response. "Come on, Steve. Let's settle something, then. I'll forgive you if you admit this as your secret".

You look at him expectantly. He's still not looking at you, holding his hips as he bites into his inner cheeks. Steve groans and throws his head back. If that's what it takes for you to stop hating him, then it's worth doing it.

"Okay. Yeah, yeah, it's true" He glances at you again and moves his hands to place them both over your face and it surprises you. "Actually, I can't help but think about you for a while. It's stupid, but it's true. I think maybe it's why I reacted so badly at the news of you leaving. Because I didn't want to believe it".

His words hit you like a punch to the guts. And everything makes sense. He was definitely desperate and he couldn't think of anything else to do. His reaction wasn't really honest. He lost a few people before, he didn't want to lose you either.

But now, the thought of leaving the town and leaving him behind is starting to lose meaning. Because yes, you also couldn't stop thinking about him either.

You're too fond of him to be honest. Your first instinct is to pull him closer and finally kiss him. He didn't expect you to do it, so he stumbles forward a little. His hands still planted on your face, now cradling it. He kisses you back, sticking his tongue out to touch yours. It's delicate, but fervent as well. You taste the gum in his mouth and it's addicting already.

He doesn't let go of you until he tries to catch his breath. He retracts his head back only a few inches so he can take a look at you again. Steve pulls you for another kiss and struggles to hold back the groans in the back of his throat. Because you're too good to actually be true. Your taste is better than anything he's had before. Your tongue is fighting for dominance and he likes the way your teeth latch onto his bottom lip and gently pull it.

Still glued to you, he guides you behind the trees and bushes until you can't see the lake. The sun is peeking through the leaves and your breath hitches at the sight of him shirtless in front of you. His hazel eyes look brighter because of the light. You feel him pushing you against the tree, one of his hands splayed against your chest as the other one he uses to hold your waist.

"Steve, what are you–"

He pecks your lip hurriedly to shush you. "Just let me, okay? I know I lost your trust, but trust me on this just for today".

Steve plants soft kisses through your skin as he goes down, leaving traces of spit against your stomach, reaching for the straps of your bikini bottom. It takes your breath away to see him undoing the knot with just his teeth, watching as he looks up at you with something different in his eyes. You've only seen him looking at you like that only a couple of times. His fingertips graze the material as he pulls it to the side, revealing your cunt to him. You thank God you've shaved it.

He breathes against your skin and it gives you goosebumps. His hands are holding your ass tightly, squeezing it hard as he looks at your glistening folds. It almost sparkles against the sunlight and he can't think of anything more admiring right now. He kissed just a few inches close to your center, leaving a wet patch on your skin. You try to hold yourself, gripping the tree with both hands. 

Steve holds your left leg high until he places it over his shoulder, opening your folds just a little. It's enough for him to grow into his shorts. He effortlessly uses his thumb to open your cunt, watching in awe the way you're soaking for him. He pecks your skin softly, just above your clit and it makes you whine.

You hear him shushing you, because no matter if you're far from the lake, you wouldn't wanna be loud. Even though your friends know that, if you're taking too long to come back, you might as well be doing something they don't even care about.

You throw your head back, holding his hair through your fingers. It sends shock waves through your body as soon as he licks your folds for the first time. He slides his tongue up and down your slick, tasting your juices, humming in appreciation. He still holds one of your inner labia with his thumb to have more access. Everything seems to fade away in front of you, the sound of the waterfall is muffled and the air becomes dense. He draws circles with the tip of his tongue over your clit and you squirm under him.

"You're too fucking sweet, fuck" He grumbles, his lips softly grazing your skin.

He licks your pussy with so much pleasure, trying to taste you as much as he can. Steve changes between licking you and flicking his tongue over your clit. He slides his thumb down your entrance, making no effort to push into your hole and he hears you whimper. His finger works its way in and out of you, sliding up and down your core, feeling your walls contracting. You pull his locks tighter, messing with his hair as you feel the knot in your stomach grow wider.

You snapped your eyes open suddenly, your lungs missing the air that left your body when Steve sucked on your clit, still fucking you with his thumb. He was humming against you, his mouth trapping your soft and sensitive skin, his tongue savoring you.

"Oh my God, Steve. That's–" You couldn't even finish your sentence because he didn't let you.

He was too focused on eating you out and fucking you mindless. You felt him shaking his head, giving you more pleasure than you thought it was possible. His thumb was quick to pump you, his lips adorning your clit in such a lustful way. His hair was so messy, it gave him the look of someone that was so pussy drunk, you throbbed against him.

Steve pulled your skin harder, feeling your body jolt in response. He took only a few seconds to look up at you, pupils dilated and blown eyes. His brows were knitted as he kept fucking you. He loved the view from down there, your chest heaving, your eyes also blown out. Mouth agape and nipples almost piercing through the fabric from being too hard.

His cock was pounding against his shorts, he could feel the burning sensation of it, because he was about to explode inside it. And he couldn't hold it back, especially because he didn't want to.

When he started to feel your pussy clenching around his finger, he slowed his pace, knowing it would give you more pleasure. He knew what he was doing. It makes your orgasm last longer too. Each second that passed, he could see how tense you were becoming. Every flick of his tongue on your clit was a jolt to your body. Your legs were trembling really bad and your mouth was dry.

You tried not to moan his name too loud, you tried to keep your whimpering down. He didn't even try to keep silent. You could hear him moaning and groaning against your core as well. You watched the moment his face contorted and he breathed heavily, hissing against your skin.

Steve sucked on your clit a few more times, circling your pussy with his thumb until you broke down on him. You throbbed and clenched, soaking his finger. He could feel you falling apart for him, pulling his hair up and forcing your cunt into his face, his nose nudging on your pubic bone. He stayed there for a while, now licking your wet pussy, gathering the rest of your juices left. He pecked on your skin gently, pulling out of you, hearing you cry out from missing his touch.

He tied the knot on your bikini back and pushed himself up. Finally meeting your flushed face after the show he just gave you. For a moment, you missed the way his shorts were wet because you could barely see it. He brushes a few strands of your sweaty hair off your face and glances at you.

"I'm really sorry I was an idiot before" He pleaded. You couldn't even process his words because you were still in a haze.

You closed the gap between you two and kissed him softly. "Please, don't leave Hawkins".

He held your waist desperately, squeezing it a little as he opened his eyes and rested his forehead against yours. You didn't answer him. You didn't know what you wanted anymore. Only right now you wanted him, just him.

"You're gonna need to refresh when we get back" You joke, feeling the wet short touching your thigh. Looking down at himself, he understands immediately and chuckles.

"You made a mess of me, in so many ways" Steve doesn't let you go out of his touch, he wants to stay there like that forever.

He holds you against his chest as you lean against the tree for several minutes. He leans on top of your head and closes his eyes. He feels his heart thumping against his chest. Steve fears he's still gonna lose you after this, but even if you go, at least he knows he's forgiven.

[robertsfloyd]

i feel like these pictures perfectly capture the vibes of alpha carlos and omega lando

(alpha carlos x omega reader x omega lando)

warnings: 18+, smut, abo dynamics, threesome, knotting mentioned (a lot)

lando whined pathetically in your ear as he rutted into you. his eyes were screwed shut as carlos grabbed his hips, controlling the way he fucked you. 

god, it was amazing. 

"you're doing so good, omega," carlos whispered as he kissed landos shoulder. 

a whimper left you lips. lando was getting the praise you wanted, praise you deserved. it wasn't fair. it wasn't fucking fair!

you pouted, looking utterly pathetic as lando thrust into you. you weren’t getting praise and you werent getting the knot. 

not fucking fair. 

suddenly, your alpha grabbed you chin. "what the fuck are you pouting at?" he growled, eyes shining with challenge. 

you opened your mouth to spit something at him. maybe just spit at him. before you could decide, he slipped his thumb into your mouth. 

your eyes rolled back as you sucked on his thumb. "there she is," he whispered gently, still holding all of the power. "there's my pretty omega. there's my good girl." 

your body became hot under his praises, but it was exactly what you needed. you moved your hips in time with lando, working with him until you both came. 

two omegas, cumming together. was there anything more  beautiful? you could think of one thing; the knot at the base of his cock swelling and locking you together. but lando's omega cock did no such thing, slipping out of you easily. 

he laid down beside you, curling close to you. a purr rumbled up from your chest as you wrapped your arms around him. he nuzzled the top of your head, arms locking around you as you wrapped your legs around. 

"look at you both," carlos mused as he stared down at the both of you. "so precious." 

you and lando couldn't help but project your happy scents as you rubbed against each other. two omegas, perfectly content in the nest you built together, the nest you shared. 

all that was missing was your alpha.

he stood just outside of your nest. watching you. you caught his gaze, piercing and so damn intense. even after you had your fill of lando, you still wanted his knot. and lando wanted it too.

back at the beginning, when carlos and lando first pulled you between them to scent and mark you, you and lando got into several fights. it was over silly little things; who got to pick what fabrics went into the nest, who got to sit on carlos's knot first, who had to wait for it to deflate.

you were a little more feral than lando was. he was all cute omega growls, all bark and no bite. you were bark and you were bite.

scratch marks on his cheek, bitemarks on his wrists. you lost count of the amount of times carlos pulled you away. but he was an alpha inexperienced with an omega like you, didn't know how to sort out the poblem.

it was unfair, at least in lando's eyes, that you had been placated with carlos's knot while he sorted out the nest. he was always a good omega, had been a good omega to carlos for years. yet, here you were, getting what you wanted because you shouted the loudest.

and you looked like the cat that got the cream.

but that was months ago. months and months and months ago. now, it was you and lando against the world. if carlos wasn't going to knot you? fine. he could watch while you and lando rode knotting toys, holding each others hands.

before you came along, lando was a good omega. he got praises and kisses at every turn. he still got praises and kisses, you got them too, but they weren't deserved.

but carlos sainz was a sucker for his omegas.

just a lil blurb bc i can't stop thinking about these two