#but i couldn't get the posts out in time.
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
✰ 01. the ballad of a bygone blight.
✰ ꒰ ⍣'ˎ˗ platonic yandere batfam / spider! reader ꒱
✰ 01. sparkless life.
SYNOPSIS : being spidey isn't easy. being transported into an alternate universe where you're nothing but a shadow in your house, makes sneaking around a little easier... until you find yourself the apple of their eye... kind of.
note: guys i couldnt resist posting criesssss . also master is used as a gender neutral term!!!! couldn't be bothered to put master/mistress every time so
prev. ✰ masterlist. ✰ next.
When you wake up, your eyes are permeated by a hard light. Your eyes are squinted hard and you're having a difficult time getting your eyes to focus.
Your brain is fuzzy and feels like melted candy in your head. What was going on, again...? This bed... it's really comfy. It's like laying on a bed made of clouds, fairy dust, and your hopes and dreams.
(Nothing like your lumpy mattress back home... May told you it built character.)
You reach your hand up, to try and block out the harsh glare directed right into your retina. It dims in a second, and for a moment—you think you've finally developed mutant powers of telekinesis. You sit up—only to discover you were not actually the one who turned off said lights.
"Apologies, Master [name]." An older man with a distinct British accent stands in the door—a few feet away from the bed you're resting on. "I did not realise you had awoken already. I would've turned down the lights, if I was aware."
You blink, surveying the room around you. It's big. Unfamiliar, as well. Modern. Really big. Wait, did he just call you—
"Master [name]?" Your mouth moves faster than your mind, and your brows furrow deep. "What... where am I?"
The older man looks genuinely puzzled at how defensive your stance is. "Oh dear. Perhaps you did end up getting lead poisoning. Or a concussion. ... No matter. This recent amnesia is common within traumatic injuries."
He clears his throat with strict elegance and straightens his posture, "[name]. I believe you were attacked in an alleyway, when your brother found you. You were in the hospital for a few days, and brought back here—back home—this morning. You're currently in one of your father's guest rooms. The doctors said you were healing miraculously fast."
You hiss lowly. You really hope they hadn't gotten a blood sample—you haven't had the best of experiences with people getting your blood.
"You seem to be alright now. A bit..." He looks at your exposed, scarred shoulders. "Scuffed up—but better than when Master Jason had found you."
Your brother... Jason...? Who even...?
What's going on here?
Your heart seems to skip a beat as the calculations start going off in your head. A world you had never heard of... a place you'd never seen before—perhaps you weren't on a different world, and like you had suspected... it was definetly some multiverse shenanigans again.
You knew you should've made Jess take that mission instead of you. Damn. You and your dumb rivalry with Doc.
But you couldn't understand why this random man knows you. He speaks as if you've lived a life with him—like he's known you since...
You chew down on your bottom lip. "... This is... my home. I live here, don't I...?"
You play with words cautiously, speaking slow and methodical. It only serves to confuse the man even further.
"Yes, you... do? Master [name], perhaps you should go back to the hospital. You're sounding rather frazzled—"
You almost jump up, out of the sheets, "Uh—no! I... I'm fine. My head's just a bit... messed up right now. Sorry."
It's not—after that flashbang, you're feeling fine. Your shoulder only burns with a stretch whenever you put too much pressure on it—but you're completely okay otherwise. But you don't think you should let him know that just yet.
"If you insist, Master [name]." He bows his head. "Do you require any further assistance?"
You blink, considering your choices.
Eventually, you land on the safest option. Search your surroundings. Find out what's going on here before going all Spider-ham on them. For all you know—they're super skrulls waiting for the right moment to strike. You need to be smart about this.
"Yes... I would like to go to my room... could you... walk me there?" You don't meet his stern gaze. "I'm not sure I'm able to walk on my own two feet just yet. I'm sorry."
You don't see how his stare softens at your words. "Of course, Master [name]."
He walks over to the edge of the bed and steadies you with a hand on your shoulder as you shakily stumble out of the bed. It's bouncy enough to launch you forward slightly—and it takes every muscle in your body to stop your Spidey-instincts from taking over and jumping backwards.
He slips your arm within his and steadies you as you both slowly walk out of the large guest room. If this was a guest room—you wonder what your room looked like.
The hallways weren't anything to sneeze at, either. Decorated with contemporary art pieces—sleek and so shiny you could see your face in the tiles below your bare feet. You felt so out of place—the civilian clothes you sported since you got here still dressed your body, and it wasn't even close to fitting in.
As you stumble down the halls with a bit of overdramacy, a man suddenly appears from around a corner. Deep black hair and the brightest blue eyes you'd ever seen. His smile is wide and he waves enthusiastically, "Hey, Alfred! I got back from Blüdhaven after uh—I heard what happened."
"Hello, Master Dick. It's lovely to see you back home again." Alfred nods his head. The man in question—Dick, apparently, which makes the immature teen in you giggle—gives you a sorrowful expression.
But... doesn't say anything past that. He continues small talk with Alfred—and you're left propped up in the older man's arms with a lost expression.
Did he... just blow you off?
One—that was pretty rude. Two, did he not just say he came back after he heard what happened? Not to toot your own horn or anything—but you'd assume being shot kind of counts as a "what happened".
You press your lips firmly together. This was getting awkward for you, especially seeing how comfortable this huge Dick (yeah, you're taking it and running with it) seemed to be with leaving this sickly, wounded (maybe you're being a tad dramatic) person to stumble like a baby fawn, in silence.
Alfred, however—catches sight of your one-sided tension, and abruptly ends his conversation. "My apologies, Master Dick, but I must help [name] to their room. I would love to continue this conversation at a later date."
"Oh yeah, no sweat, Alfred." He gives the older man a gleeful thumbs up. Then, his eyes meet yours. "Get better soon, okay?"
You avert his stare and only nod in response. Well, at least he noticed you were there. You're still in mild shock, but you somehow manage to keep a pleasant expression. With one last small smile, Dick walks away—where, you don't really care about.
Alfred slowly helps you up a flight of stairs. He only breaks the silence after you find yourself standing in front of a room with a faded name on it. Your name. "... All these years, and only now, you've suddenly changed. I wonder..."
His words are cryptic, but his expression even more so. What was he talking about? "... Huh?"
A small smile fades on his face. "Ah... no. It's nothing. I was thinking out loud. Call me if you need anything else, Master [name]. I am at your service. And please... get better soon."
Somehow, it sounds nicer when he says it. You smile a little, and give him a nod.
"Thank you..." You test out his name on your tongue. It feels natural. "Alfred. I'll try my best."
He leaves with a curt nod and not another word. You finally slide the door open, and take a look around.
You step inside, and it's like you've entered a whole new world, again.
It's... small. Not by regular standards—it's almost double the size of your room at home—but compared to a guest bedroom in this overly massive home... it's rather small. Like a closet, more than a bedroom.
It's empty, too. Your room at home is decorated with posters and trinkets of your favourite shows, pictures of you with Harry and MJ (sometimes even the four), and memorable items you've collected with your friends and family over the years.
Memories. You had memories.
There is nothing here.
It's like you're standing in a blank slate—in a world where you are nothing and yet everything you've ever had. It sends a chill down your spine.
You walk barefoot across cold wood and take a seat on the bedsheets. Bare white with a unicorn print. Something a young child would use. It looks pretty scuffed up. Old. The mattress creaks under your weight and you wince.
There's a bookshelf just opposite to you. There's not much in it—in fact, it's smaller than small and is almost completely empty. There's nothing but school textbooks and thick novels. And...
It catches your eye almost immediately. A little pink slip in the midst of deep black and brown colours. You stand up—ignoring the creak that follows—and walk over to the shelf.
You slip the book out, and immediately take in its cover. Pink, and with your name in wonky cursive. It's rather dusty, as if it hadn't even been touched in years.
You flip open the cover. Big bubble letters spelling out My diary flash you and you quickly flip the page before the glitter sears into your eyelids.
The first entry is there. Exactly seven years and two months ago. It's nothing like those entries you've seen on those corny 2000's TV shows for tweens—nor is it like those aesthetic journaling girls on Pwinterest.
It's something, familiarly, you. A short clunk of text about your day, on days that had some sort of exciting event going on—something you'd undoubtedly do. It almost makes you grimace.
This whole multiverse thing might be worse than you thought.
Two days ago I moved into a new house. My mom said she couldn't take care of me anymore, and I had to live with my dad. I've never seen him until today, but he's really busy, so we don't talk much. Alfred is nice to me, and his cooking is really yummy.
There's a little sketch of a baked dinner—and despite your pre-tween art skills, it does seem rather tasty looking.
You flip the page. The next entry is a week after the last.
I still haven't talked with dad yet. But I did meet two new people. Alfred said that they're my new brothers. Mom never wanted any more babies, so I was very excited to meet them! Jason is fun to play with. He's really bad at hide and go seek, though—I always win! Dick is fun too, but he's busy a lot, like dad. But he always makes time for me and Jason. I really like it here.
There's a small picture of three stick people holding hands. One is significantly short than the other two—labelled with your name above. The one on the left to you is Jason, with black curls and a wide grin. The one on the right is labelled Dickie, much taller than the other two and with shaggy black hair.
The drawing is innocent. Cute. Wholesome, if you will. There's even heart stickers pasted (and peeling, by now) between each of your heads.
You flip the page with a small, fond smile. The next entry is three days after that one.
Dad played with me, Jason, and Dickie today. He was really bad at hide and go seek too—but Dad and Jason chased each other all around the house before I caught both of them. I was so happy I won today! Dad took us all out for dinner, even Alfred. Alfred said he only came because I always look very happy when we're together. The dinner was really yummy!!!!
The drawing underneath is a picture of what looked like a smaller version of you, standing triumphantly with a little tiara on your head.
You flip the page. This time—there's a significant gap between the dates. This was a whole 5 months after you last wrote in your diary.
I don't know where Jason is. Dad and Dickie look really sad. They've been really busy for a long time, and we don't play much anymore. The only times I see Dad is at dinner. But we don't talk. Sometimes he doesn't eat dinner, either. Alfred still puts my drawings on the fridge, and he says that Dad and Dickie are just sad now, and they'll be better soon. I miss Jason. I want him back home.
There's no silly-looking drawing to go underneath this entry. This Jason—apparently the man who saved you—seemed rather fun-loving, despite whatever happened to him. You wonder what it was.
You flip the page, again. This entry was 3 months after the last.
I miss Dad, and Dickie. Dickie told me he had to go away for a bit, because he has something important to do somewhere else. Dad is busy all the time. I haven't seen him in 4 days. I don't play with anyone but Alfred now, but he's not that fun to play with, because he's so serious all the time. Dad tells me to go on my iPad and not bother Alfred when I'm bored, but I miss them.
Next one is 2 days after.
I met a new boy today. Dad told me he's my new brother. I was pretty excited because he's my age. But he didn't want to talk to me. He said he was too caught up in important stuff, and that I should just come back later. But he looked real annoyed when saying it—so I didn't come back. He didn't say anything, so I don't think he cared.
A week later.
My dad is Batman, and my new brother is Robin. I'm freaking out. He never told me—I saw them sneaking out one day and I got really mad. Why didn't he tell me? Did Dickie and Jason know? Was I the only one who didn't? Tim got mad at me when I started yelling. I felt really sad so I hid in my room to get away from them. I've been here since. Alfred brought me dinner, but I'm not hungry.
So... this Batman who you saw before, is actually your dad? In this world, this is your father? You almost drop the diary in shock, but you can't tear your eyes away. You can't stop reading.
The next few entries don't catch your eye—it's all teen angst about how you're sick of how busy your dad is, how annoying Tim can be, how Dick won't even visit your room anymore—until something else catches your eye.
3 years later.
Jason is back. He's back home. I don't know why, but he's back. I was so excited to see him again—everyone else has become so busy and won't even talk to me. Nobody else has time for me, but Jason did. But he looked different. He's way older than me, now. He won't even look at me. I tried to hug him but he just put a mask on and walked away. Why is everyone doing this to me? What did I do? It's not fair.
Your writing grows into chicken scratch near the end—as if conveying your frustration. You skim through a few more entries. More teen angst. More about how you can't even hold a conversation with your siblings anymore.
Some were sweet, like how you met some people, unnamed, and treasured their friendship so deeply, but they were few and far between.
I met a girl today. She's my sister now. Her name is Cassandra, and she has very pretty eyes. I tried to talk to her, but dad got pretty mad at me because apparently she doesn't like to talk much. How was I supposed to know that? She didn't even look at me as dad pulled her away. Who even is she? Why does my dad like her better than me? It's not fair.
You're bitter. You're upset, and so, so bitter. It's so abundantly clear that as time went on, you became progressively more and more spiteful. It was rather sad to watch.
This stupid little kid tried to kill me. Claimed I was unworthy. I couldn't give less of a shit what he thinks—but my family couldn't give less of a shit about me. They said he's troubled, that he needs patience.
The new few words were less than family friendly. Unkind? Definitely. Deserved? Possibly.
I can't believe this. I'm so sick of this. I want to get out. I can't take this anymore. Jason kills people now, but Bruce still loves him. Even Steph and Babs get more love from Bruce than me. They're not even in the family, but they're better. Because they're superheroes, they're better. Maybe I'll be a hero myself. Maybe then, they'll see me.
You flip the page. That's the last entry. The last page of the book—but behind it, there's a page made of sticky notes on the back cover. Your eyes widen in shock at what you see.
It's all...
"Spidey," you read out the name atop this pasted page in a low whisper.
Your fingertips trace over the detailed drawings. Your costume. Though not made of nanotech—the suit was intricately designed with spider patterns falling all around your arms and legs, with a large spider torso. It looked somewhat like Silk's suit.
Web shooters, with thorough calculations on how much you'd have to bulk up to swing without taking your arm off (which, by what you're reading, was humanly impossible for a regular you), and detailed explanations on what the web fluid was made out of.
More environmentally sustainable than your ones. You'd have to take these notes back home.
It wasn't like your family would go looking—you can't help but think, chewing on your cheek. This was incredible. You must've been a real genius to figure all this out.
Back home, you had Reed and Tony help you with all your spider stuff. Sure, you were the one who came up with all the base ideas and constructed it all yourself—but they helped out a lot with all the technicalities. But to come up with something like, from what you can tell, all on your own...
It was nothing short of incredible. And your family had no idea.
You snap the book shut, eyes narrowing down at the ground. Your Aunt May never would've treated you like this—and if you were correct, this other you must be with your aunt right now.
Good for her, you think. Maybe she'd be happier there, anyway.
A sudden knock at your door brings you out of your stupor. You slip the book away quickly as Alfred opens the door, bowing his head slightly. "Master [name], dinner is ready. If you're feeling better, please come down."
The prospect of a family dinner leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, especially after all you've read from this diary. No matter. You don't know how this you behaved before, but you have bigger issues to deal with than becoming a copy of this sad child.
But despite everything... Alfred really did seem to care for them—for you. You nod, smoothing out your cami. "Thanks. Let's go."
You and he both head down the stairs, and you finally come face to face with the family you've heard so much about.
They're all grinning from ear-to-ear, laughing about something that "happened on patrol" as you take a seat at the end of the table—beside a blonde girl who you think was called Stephanie—chewing on the food.
It was good. Really good. Almost as good as Aunt May's meatloaf. The thought makes you feel a little homesick, but you persevere. The hard glare given to you across the table by this small kid (definitely Damian) isn't helping, though.
Dick catches the look and follows his little brothers gaze to you. He doesn't say anything about it—only ruffles the boy's hair, chuckling, and asks why he seems so glum. The child hisses and starts trying to stab the man with a steak knife, to no avail—of course.
That was the last time you were even glanced at for the rest of the dinner. You almost can't believe it. How could somebody really fade into the background like that? How could such a family let it happen?
How could they be so ignorant? You lose your appetite soon enough, and stand up. The chatter dies down for a second. Stephanie—being the closest toward you, gives you an uncomfortable smile, "Are you not going to finish? You were out for a while... you need energy to get back up and do..."
Whatever it is you do at home, you guess that's probably what she was thinking. Who said you hadn't gotten a telepathic mutation?
She doesn't finish her sentence. You'd just met these people and already you were sick of this. Seriously, you don't think you could get any more uncomfortable if somebody strapped you to a chair and tossed you down a dark well.
You miss the most fantastic of fours you know. They'd never do this to you. Sue was far too sweet.
You shake your head, plate held tight in your hand. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. There's much more important things out there in Gotham, isn't there? Besides—I have more than enough time to heal. Not like I'm doing any hero stuff, huh?"
Your laugh lacks any kind of humour, and you walk out in your typical Spidey fashion. The chatter doesn't spike up for a good ten minutes until after you leave.
You meet Alfred in the kitchen, and he's doing countless dishes alone. There's a stack of plates almost as tall as he is. You roll up your sleeves.
He gives you a confused look. "Master [name]? I have told you before, you—"
"I don't care what you told me." You say, suddenly—but you backtrack when you realise how flat your tone was. Cheeks flushed, you correct yourself, "Ah—sorry. I meant... I don't care what you told me, because it doesn't matter if you don't want help... I'll offer it anyway, you know? I can't help it. It's how I am."
It's why I'm Spidey. Not because I have powers. Not because I'm good at swinging around. Not even because the costume is awesome.
It's because you can't help but help others. You have the power to do so—now it's your responsibility.
You take a sponge, and douse it in dishwashing liquid. You scrub down a porcelain plate beside Alfred in silence.
The pensive look on his face was now replaced by a small, fond smile.
we getting into the typical diary entry stuff okokokkkk but. love interests next chapter. smirks let me cook!!!@
taglist: @hello-bina @cosmosluckycharms @1abi @yhin-gg @insideoutjulie @bluepanda08 @omnivirgo @vanessa-boo @dind1n @welpthisisboring @lunaetiicsaystuff @marsmabe @atanukileaf @findingjaxx @4mrplumi
if you asked to be on the taglist but aren't there, your account couldn't be tagged for whatever reason. im not too sure how tumblr works, but if you manage to fix it, ask me again!!!
#🧸✰ the ballad of a bygone blight#platonic batfam#yandere batfam#batfam x reader#batfam#platonic yandere batfam x reader#platonic yandere batfam#platonic batfam x reader#yandere batfam x reader#yandere dc x reader#dc x reader#batman x reader#bruce wayne x reader#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#tim drake x reader#damian wayne x reader#cassandra cain x reader#batfam x neglected reader#yandere batfam x neglected reader#neglected reader#spider reader#© iliverae 2025 !
585 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mutual Hatred - m. sturniolo
brother's bsf!matt x nate's little sister!reader



Warnings : 18+ ⋆ smut w/ plot ⋆ age gap (18 - 22) ⋆ cursing (a whole lotta fucks) ⋆ dom!matt ⋆ mean!matt ⋆ brat!reader ⋆ sub!reader ⋆ masturbation ⋆ phone sex? ⋆ underage drinking (big no no!!) ⋆ p in v no protection (wrap it before you tap it!!) ⋆ virginity loss ⋆ mirror sex ⋆ hate sex? ⋆ spanking ⋆ slight choking ⋆ degrading and slight praising ⋆ usage of "slut", "whore", "bitch", "brat", "baby" + more
Word count : 7.2k
requested? yes
Synopsis : You love your brother, Nate, but for the life of you, you just can't stand one of his best friends, Matt. But when Matt (accidentally?) sends you something he shouldn't, things get pretty tense and questions start to bubble. Just keep it to yourself, no biggie– At least that is until you tag along to a party, and a simple little party game pulls you both into a situation neither of you had expected.

If the two of you were twins, you would’ve been absolutely unstoppable. But alas, a three-year difference was what you had to settle for. Regardless, that never put a strain on you and Nate’s friendship, a bond between a brother and a sister, greater than anyone could ever know.
He’d looked after you when you were little, took care of anyone who even thought to bully you, and even in high school, he never dropped you for his friends, never left you in the dust. He practically went out of his way to include you in anything.
Of course, this did lead to you hanging out with his group of friends more than your own, his being practically family whilst yours was loosely knitted together only during school hours. But that was ok, his friends were nice to you.
Yes, of course there were times you were picked on, times you were mockingly babied, but that was expected with you being younger than them all. You’d gotten used to it, nothing new, nothing different.
But there was one of his friends that really got under your skin, really grinded your gears, just– ultimately pissed you off; Matt. How could he be a triplet yet be so utterly different from his brothers? Especially in how each of them treated you.
Nick was the perfect guy to gossip with, “can I be mean for a second?” becoming one of your guys’ common phrases at this point anytime you two got the chance to hang out.
Chris was energetic as hell and just a pure goofball, making it feel like the two of you were the youngest of the group, even though he was just as old as the rest of them.
But Matt? You two just seemed to have a deep seated, mutual hatred for one another, this distaste for each other. Every time he bit, you bit back, snarky remarks, backhanded comments, sometimes just downright insults, but that was only reserved for when Nate wasn't around, or else Matt would be a dead man.
You'd been laying in bed after a long day of tagging along with Nate and his friends around town, getting to be in one of their videos since it was a pretty packed day and served for some worthy content. Of course, the day didn't go without your regular banter with Matt, definitely causing some footage to be ruined with how mean you two were being.
Your thumb scrolled through your feed, passing by pictures and reels, random posts and content, when suddenly you'd gotten a notification... from Matt, of all people. You furrowed your eyebrows, letting the dropdown message linger for just a moment before it shot back up as if it was never there.
You should've just left it, it was Matt, what the hell would it matter what he sent you. It was probably something stupid just to get on your nerves, or some idiotic message that was certain to just piss you off. But the fact that it was an attachment rather than a text had your mind filling with curiosity that you couldn't help but follow.
Pulling your notifications back down, you let out a soft breath before clicking on his message, preparing yourself from something stupid... but nothing could've prepared you for what came up on your screen. Your eyes widened at the sight that came up, a chill of surprise rushing up your spine, and you nearly shot up from your bed at what you were seeing right now.
A heated blush crept up your neck, dusting your cheeks and the tips of your ears, as you stared at your phone like a deer caught in headlights. Matt's dick was on your screen. A full blown, set up and everything, dick pic right in your messages— no, actually, not just a dick pic, that was a whole ass video.
What was he doing? Did he mean to send it to you? Was that actually his? Was he playing some fucked up prank on you? Why the hell did you even have his number saved?
Your mind filled with question after question, thoughts racing through your head, but, for some god damn reason, you couldn't pull your eyes away from it. You studied the way his hand wrapped around the base, the way it curved just slightly upward, the was it faded into a deep pink that ended in a leaking tip, pre-cum glistening just in the picture of the video alone.
Your thumb hovered over the play button, slightly shaking a bit as you hesitated. No, you shouldn't watch this. It clearly wasn't meant for you, it's an invasion of his privacy if you do, even if you hated his guts... but no one would know. You're all alone in your bedroom, no one else to see nor hear anything.
Just you and your phone that held a life altering video simply at the press of a button.
One, two, three more seconds passed by before the pad of your thumb made contact with your screen, audio starting to play through your phone speaker as the video stayed on the back camera.
From the flash on his phone, you could see the lower half of his body, his shirt slightly ridden up on his midriff and his sweats tugged down over his hips, as he lay in his bed, bathed in a blue hue from his LED lights.
"Fuck, baby.. got me all hard n' shit.." Matt's hushed voice rang through the speaker, washing over you in a way it never had before, despite your many years of equating his voice to the noise of nails against a chalkboard.
Free hand wrapped around his thick cock, you watched as he gave it a few slow tugs, his groans floating through the speaker and making your body shiver with desire, thighs pressing together under the comfort of your blanket.
"Wish you were here, sucking this dick.." He spoke once more, his hand slowly stroking up to the head of his cock before he let out a low hiss, his thumb teasing his leaking tip, drawing slow circles, before stroking back down to the base. "Just imagining your pretty lips wrapped around me's got me all messy.."
Even though you knew, deep down, this wasn't meant for you, a total mistake on his part for sending it.. you let yourself believe he was talking about you, to you.
As he pumped his cock with a steady pace, you let yourself believe he was imagining you, your pretty eyes looking up at him so innocently as you'd take his thick shaft in your mouth, letting your pink, glossy lips wrap around it and swallow as much as you could—
Fuck— no way you were thinking like this, imagine this shit with Matt, out of all people— but as you felt that aching burn between your thighs, that feeling that started sparks anytime you pressed your thighs together, all dignity was thrown out the god damn window.
You held your phone right at your chest level in your left hand, eyes trained on the video as your free hand slowly, almost tentatively, traveled down, gripping and tossing your blanket off to reveal your lower half, clad in only your panties to pair with your baggy nighttime shirt. You mentally cursed at yourself as you let your hand slide underneath your panties, but as your fingers glided through your slick folds, you couldn't give a fuck less what you were doing.
"Shit, baby– just thinkin' about that sweet pussy's gonna make me cum," Matt groaned through the speaker, making you bite your lip as you sunk two fingers into your soaked cunt, slowly pumping them in time with Matt's strokes in the video. This was so fucking stupid... but it felt so good.
A soft moan slipped from your lips in time with a muffled noise on his end, fingers starting to pick up pace a bit as his strokes quickened a little. "Bet you're touching yourself right now, huh baby?" Matt teased from the video, making your cheeks heat up once more in embarrassment. Even though this was a video, it still felt as if he was really talking to you, as if he knew you yourself had your fingers moving inside you, imagining it was him instead.
Fuck, that tore a needy moan from your lips, thinking about him above you, pinning you to your bed and letting his fingers control your pleasure, or better yet, feeling him stuff that thick cock in your pussy. Fucking hell– your past self from just a mere couple of hours ago would be utterly disgusted with you, but you couldn't care less right now.
"That fuckin' pussy would be grippin' me so tight right now, shit–" He groaned as you watched him squeeze his cock on each upstroke, making your cunt clench around your fingers in shared time.
Though, for some reason, a petty, jealous voice rang in the back of your head, reminding you that this was meant for someone else, a different girl who got to see Matt like this, in all his non-shitty glory. It twisted your stomach, yet added to the pleasure as you pumped your fingers faster.
He could do so much better with you, no matter who the girl was. You knew how to push his buttons, how to piss him off and make him fight the urge constantly to fucking strangle you for it. Fuck– his hands around your throat, pressing just right–
"Mm– fuck baby, y' gonna make me cum," His breathy voice came through once more, mixing in with your thoughts and doubling the stimulations that had your body nearly trembling with pleasure.
"Fuck–" You muttered out, biting your lip as you felt that burning heat low in your tummy, your hips involuntarily rocking up against your palm to stimulate your clit, a whine falling from your parted lips as your eye fluttered whilst watching him fuck up into his fist.
"Fuckin' cum with me baby, c'mon.." He demanded with a breathy voice, his voice clearly coming through his clenched teeth now as you both were climbing to that glorious high.
"Matt– s-shit—" You panted, too lost in the pleasure to even realize his name had left your mouth. You tried so hard to keep your eyes on your phone, wanting to watch him come undone in time with you, your thighs starting to tremble as that pleasure built and built–
"Shiiit–" A pleasured moan poured from the speaker as you watched thick, white spurts of cum shoot from Matt's tip and drip down over his fingers, your eyes flying shut just second after, as you felt your own orgasm crash over you.
A gasp fell from your bitten lips, your body practically seizing as the pleasure washed over you in tidal waves, gushing around your fingers as you rutted against your palm, chasing that high. Your vision became white, your ear muffling noises, and your body trembling before you finally came back down, breathy pants leaving you as your chest heaved.
You hardly even registered what Matt said at the end before the video ended, your phone dimming as it slipped from your hand and onto your chest. Your eyes fluttered as you looked up at your starry ceiling, a soft purple glow covering your room from your lights.
You groaned softly as you finally, yet slowly, slid your fingers out of your cunt, the pleasure and desire that once resided in your stomach now turned and twisted into guilt, near regret, and mostly disbelief.
Holy shit. You just did that.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
A yawn rang from Nate's open mouth as he stretched, making his way into the kitchen where you were already, sitting at the counter with a bowl of cereal in front of you, slow bites taken as you swiped through your feed, just like you did every morning.
But a nagging voice filled your thoughts, making your body tense as you glanced up at your brother, watching him turn to open one of the cabinets in search of his own breakfast. What if he found out? Would he cut ties with Matt? Would he be mad at you?
He'd do practically anything to protect you, but you also knew his friendship with the triplets was like a brotherhood at this point. Either way, a bond would be demolished, and you didn't want either to happen.
"You good?" Nate's voice pulled you from your thoughts, making your eyes glance up to his finally after having zeroed in on a spot near the edge of the counter, your posture straightening up a bit
"Uh– Yeah, yeah just.. tired, I guess," You weren't exactly lying to him, you were still tired, but maybe the whole fact that you had stayed up, having a near existential crisis for 30 minutes over getting off to your brother's best friend, was the reasoning in that.
Thankfully, Nate didn't dig any further, either believing you and moving on, or too tired to try and pry, just giving a nod and a hum. Either way, you mentally thanked him tremendously. You brought your spoon back to your mouth, eating another bite of cereal before Nate spoke up once more.
"Hey, so," Your body tensed up, watching as his palms pressed against the counter, his body leaning against it as he looked at you. Could he tell? Did he know already? Fuck fuck fuck– "There's gonna be this huge party tonight, the guys invited me and everything, and I just wanted to see if you wanted to tag along?"
Part of you sighed deeply inside, nearly wanting to kick yourself from how your nerves were getting to you, it was fine, you were fine. The other part of you perked up, physically, your eyebrows raising at your older brother's offer. A party? Like, a genuine, drinks and music and all that shit, party?
Nate had only ever limited you with parties, which was fair, you were too young for them, and most of the time could've ended up with you getting lost in seconds. But you were 18 now, old enough to start having fun and being trusted not to end up leaving with some rando.
"Really?" You asked, mouth still full of cereal, making Nate chuckle before nodding, lifting himself up a bit.
"Yeah, really," He assured you, removing his hands from the counter and crossing his arms across his chest, raising an eyebrow at you in curiosity of what your answer would be. "So? Wanna go or what?"
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Saturday night, 10:00 pm, and Nate pulled up to the lively house with you in passenger, his hand shifting the car into park before taking out the keys.
Your eyes surveyed what you could see only from here, party lights making the house practically glow, nearly taking away from the fact this house was in a rich rich neighborhood, the view of a pool in the background peaking out from behind the house.
You nearly jumped as Nate touched your shoulder, his eyes a little concerned as you turned to look at him, a nervous smile on his lips. "You sure you're ok, jumpy?" He teased a little, making you smile back and loosen your tensed body just a bit.
"Yeah, yeah I'm good, just– adrenaline and nerves starting to pump in is all, first time jitters I guess," You admitted to your brother, watching as his concern and worry quickly shifted into pride and excitement for you, his hand rubbing your shoulder like he always did to help calm your nerves.
"You'll have fun, don't worry, shit's always scary the first time around," He comforted you, making your nerves wash away with ease before you nodded, smiling at him.
"Ok, I'm ready." He smiled bright and patted the steering wheel with enthusiasm at your confidence.
"Hell yeah, let's do this!" He cheered, making you giggle as the two of you stepped out of his car, the cool night breeze hitting your bare legs and arms in your black skirt and golden white, silk top, the fabric perfectly loose and ruffled across your chest.
Music poured from the open front door as you and Nate made your way up the path, Nate stepping into the party first with you right behind him. Your senses filled with the loud music and conversations all around you, the smell of alcohol, cigarettes, perfumes and colognes, all meshing together in an oddly satisfying way.
You hardly even realized Nate had instantly found his friends until he'd given you a quick heads-up of where he was going before he made his way away from you. The nerves sank back in as you looked around the bustling party, biting your glossy bottom lip, your fingers fidgeting with the bracelet you sported with your outfit.
Your feet finally let you move from your spot, snaking your way through people as you spotted what looked to be the kitchen, drinks and snacks displayed for the partygoers. You could really use some water right now.
You let out a sigh as you stepped into the kitchen, spotting the water and grabbing one, but as you went to open the bottle, your peace was shattered by a familiar voice.
"The fuck?" You turned your head to see him, in all his shitty fucking, annoying glory; Matt. You felt your stomach free fall as memories of last night flashed through your mind. Be cool, don't let him know.
Your brows began to furrow as he looked you up and down with a judging eyes, a few of his friends around him still conversing, before nodding towards you. "Who the hell let you come over?" He harshly asked, to which you rolled your eyes at.
"Nate. Who else, dipshit?" You retaliated, noticing the way his grip on his red solo cup tightened ever so slightly before he pushed himself off of the counter he previously leaned on.
You watched him walk up to you, your breath hitching just a bit as he got up in your face with dark, glaring eyes, causing you to step back just a bit before your back touched the edge of the counter. His frame practically towered over you, making you feel even smaller with how he cornered you.
"You can be a bitch all you want, doesn't make you any cooler." He hissed out, your close proximity to him making your heart traitorously beat faster, the way his black ransom tee hung off his frame just right and matched with his sweats, his chain dangling around his neck. Why'd he have to be so fucking close?
You watched as his eyes looked down at the water bottle in your hand, a scoff leaving his lips as he brought his eyes back to you. "Fuckin' pussy, can't even handle some alcohol," He mocked you, before straightening himself back up and bringing his solo cup to his lips. Fuck– did he get hotter?
"Go fuckin' play with your barbies or some shit, this is a big kids party, not a damn baby shower," He chuckled meanly before chugging down the rest of his drink and leaving you to go get a refill.
Your eyes, glaring as they followed him, fell down to your water bottle in hand, this gut feeling burning within you, causing a nagging voice to start up in your head. You were grown. You weren't just some fucking kid anymore, and you needed to show him that.
You tossed the water bottle back and nearly stomped your way through the party, on a mission to go find the one person you needed to talk to right now; Nate.
Snaking through dancing and conversing people, you finally found your brother within a group off to the side, his laugh distinctly giving off his location. You look in a deep breath before you tapped on his shoulder, watching as he turned around to face you, his eyebrow raising with a smile on his face, as if to ask "what's up?"
"Hey– uh, Nate?" You felt like such a little kid having to ask your older brother for something you weren't old enough to have yet, but you weren't backing down from this.
You glanced down at the red solo cup he had in his hand, one that he'd been nursing on for a while now since he wasn't too crazy for the alcohol here, before sighing to prep yourself. "Can I have, just like— one drink?"
You watched as his eyes widened ever so slightly and how he sucked in a breath through his teeth, his eyes glancing away as his free hand went to the back of his neck to rub it. "Shit– Sis, I don't know.." He muttered, but of course, instead of earning an understanding from you, he looked back only to see you trying to use your begging eyes on him.
101 of having an older brother who'd do anything for you: Make sure to perfect the puppy eyes.
"Please, Nate? I promise, just one drink is all, I just wanna try it." You asked him, watching his resolve falter before it finally crumbled, a sigh leaving his lips.
"Ok ok, fine. One drink," You nearly yelped with joy, wrapped your arms around him in a quick hug as you thanked him profusely, promising to keep your word before you dashed back to where the drinks were, hoping that Matt was still there so you could shove it in his face.
You fixed yourself and practically strutted to where the red solo cups and alcohol were. Noticing as Matt seemed to feel your presence once more, you felt his eyes glancing at you in a glare from the other side of the kitchen where he was previously, but you paid him no mind.
Grabbing a cup from the stacks and popping open a beer can, you poured the forbidden drink into the cup, watching it foam a bit before settling. You tossed the can in the nearby trash before looking over at Matt, catching his attention as you flipped him off whilst taking a drink from your cup.
The alcohol burned deliciously going down your throat, making you skin tingle with goosebumps at the taste and feeling of it, a shiver racking up your spine, but you hid it all as best you could before bringing the cup back down to look at Matt.
Watching as he glared at you before rolling his eyes and looking away, you smirked, feeling victorious for once tonight. Who was the baby now?
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Newsflash, the alcohol didn't help shit now.
You'd been dragged into a small group who was doing some party games, not even realizing one of them had snagged Matt too, leaving you all in a big circle now as people chatted and laughed, music still playing around the house.
The palms of your hands felt sweaty against your knees, your eyes glancing up to look at Matt who sat across from you in the circle, already noticing his eyes on you before he fixed you with a glare, one you retaliated back with flipping him off. The air lifted just a bit, good.
"Alright!" One of the girls chirped up, her tits nearly spilling from her tube top as she leaned over to place an empty beer bottle in the middle, making you glance down at your own chest in a glaring moment of jealously, before you shook that from your thoughts.
"We're going about this like spin the bottle. Whichever two people it lands on gotta leave and get into the bathroom for 7 minutes, since Robbie's too baby to let us use one of the closets," She teased the party host, his eyes rolling as he hugged one knee to his chest.
"Hey, I just don't want y'all's cum stains on my clothes," He explained, earning laughs from around the circle as he took a swig from his bottle. Fuck, ok, this was really happening. Stay cool, you're cool, it's all cool.
You watched as the girl's fingers grasped the bottle before giving it a spin, everybody around you beginning to lean forward in anticipation. Your heart sped up as it began to slow down, the neck of the bottle finally stoping to point directly at Matt.
Whilst everyone cheered and whooped for him, laughing and teasing him for who he might get, you couldn't help the feeling of your gut twisting, thoughts of another girl's hands on him making your nails start to dig into your knees, partially out of jealousy, and partially out of anger at yourself for feeling this way.
You hated his guts and he hated yours, so why did it matter so much about who he might fuck tonight?
Thoughts dissipated with a simple shake of your head, an all-for-show smile coming to your glossy lips as your eyes trained on the way his ring clad fingers wrapped around the bottle, just like they had his cock last night, before he gave it a clean spin, the anticipation even higher now as everyone waited to see who was gonna get lucky.
The bottle started to slow down, and as the neck of the bottle finally chose another helpless soul, your smile fell as you realized... it was pointing at you.
Your head quickly shot up to look at Matt, who looked at the bottle in shock before meeting your eyes, the tension in the air thickening as you felt your heart fly out of your fucking chest. The sounds of everyone collect "oo"-ing around you two were practically muffled in your ears before you watched Matt quickly reach for the bottle again.
"Yeah, no fucking way. I'm spinnin' again," He huffed out, but just as he was about to grasp the bottle, the tube top girl snatched it before he could get it, tsking at him as she wiggled the bottle from its neck.
"Nuh uh, rules are rules, Matt. No take backs, no redos, it's one shot only." You felt as her hand gently pressed against the small of your back, making you sit up straighter and look at her, a playful smile on her pretty lips as she urged you to get up. "Go have fun, baby."
Blush tinted your cheeks from her words as you got onto your feet, looking over at Matt as he glared up at you, then at the girl, before groaning and following suit, his hands digging into his pockets. "Fine. Let's get this shit over with." He muttered with nearly clenched teeth, your feet quickly bringing you to walk behind him, hearing as everyone cheered you two on.
Breathe, you've got this.
As the two of you walked into the bathroom, he closed the door, locking it — per the games rules — before leaning against it, his head turned away as he stared at the wall instead of you. Your nerves quickly turned into annoyance as you were brought back to your dynamic with him.
"Are you choosing to not have any fun or are you always this boring at parties?" You asked him in a slightly snarky tone, noticing the way his jaw twitched before his tongue pressed against his cheek.
"I'm not fuckin' you if that's what you're getting at," He firmly said, not even tearing his eyes away from the beige, bathroom wall. "Not even gonna touch you, so you can drop it."
You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, your signature attitude that always came out with him finally coming back. "Not what I was getting at, dumbass." You huffed, before an idea popped into your head, a smirk slightly coming to your lips. "I know you'd fucking suck."
That definitely got his attention, his head turning to look at you as his brows furrowed. "The fuck you say?" He asked you, venom dripping from his tongue at the face of a challenge, to which you once smirked at, your eyes looking him up and down slowly before you squinted them just right.
"You fuckin' heard me."
In a moment, Matt pushed himself off of the door, music muffled on the other side of it as the two of you were stuck in his little world together. He nearly towered over you, fixing you with a dark, dangerous glare, before leaning into your face once more, but this time, you held your ground.
"I can make you such a fucking ruined mess, you'll be needing me to carry your sorry ass out of here, brat." He spat, low and threatening, but fuck, was it hot. Hearing him talk like this to you in a tone you were so used to, it made that ache come to life between your thighs.
"I bet you couldn't even make me cum, don't even know where everything is, huh?" You challenged back, the smirk on your glossy lips making his eyes glance down before looking back at you, his jaw clenching once more.
"You really wanna fuck around and find out, princess?" He asked degradingly, but the way the pet name fell from his lips had you practically soaking through your panties, memories of last night's video rolling through your head once more. And fuck, you weren't turning this opportunity down.
"Maybe I do, Matthew," A harsh huff left from his lips before, suddenly, you felt your eyes widen as his hands reach to grap your face, pulling you forward and capturing you in a sudden, harsh kiss. Here we fucking go.
The crash of your lips felt like the beginning of a war, of two tidal waves battling each other, each of you trying to fight from melting into it. Your hands grasp his shirt almost frantically, your lips moving against his in an angry, hurried manner, pent up feelings and long-lasting hatred dueling within you two and pouring into the kiss.
Huffs of breaths leave each of your lips between kisses, before you both dive right back in, trying to steal the dominance, but you both knew deep down who held it.
His hands cupped your face, keeping it tilted up and as he kissed you, your hair pressed against your cheeks by the force of his palms, before they slid down your collarbone and chest.
His hands gripped your waist and tugged you harshly against his body, before making you stumble back and hit against the edge of the sink counter, making you gasp into his mouth before tugging his bottom lip between your teeth.
Your hands found their way to the brunet curls at the back of his head, tangling your fingers within his hair as your nails scraped against his scalp, earning a groan from him into the kiss.
He tasted like everything you shouldn't have, everything you couldn't have, all dark and forbidding, addictive and dangerous, the taste mixing with the last shreds of your innocence deliciously.
"You're such a fuckin' brat," He practically growled against your lips, his knee lifting up to press between your thighs, a gasp falling from your lips at the pressure and friction as your hips involuntarily bucked against his thighs, making his chuckle darkly. "Damn slut."
"I fucking hate you." You breathed out against his lips before you felt them leave yours, your head instead falling back as he trailed his lips down your jawline and your neck, biting at your soft skin and earning small noises from you, which you failed to hide miserably.
As one hand stay gripping tight on your hip, his other slid down underneath your skirt, swiping just the fabric of your soaked panties and groaning at how wet you were. "Didn't know you'd be such a needy slut," He cooed against your throat, his degrading words sending pure shivers down your spine.
You ground yourself against his hand, as if begging for him to slide them under your panties and slip them into your needy cunt. But suddenly, his hand left the area between your thighs, and before you could protest and whine, his hand gripped your waist and spun you around, a gasp leaving your lips at the sight of you two in the bathroom mirror.
Teeth bit at your bottom lip once more as you felt Matt grind against your ass, letting you feel the bulge in his pants, a groan falling from his lips as he pressed his forehead against your shoulder.
"Fuck, baby.." He muttered under his breath before his hand came up, moving your hair to the other side of your neck, giving himself access to the back of your neck.
You let your eyes flutter shut as he kissed your skin, nipping and sucking to leave his marks, a soft moan leaving your lips at the warm moment, soaking it in as he ground against your ass once more before growling against your neck.
Suddenly, a yelp left your lips as your upper half got pushed down against the counter, his thumbs pressing into the small of your back as he gave a few more grinds against you.
"Need to fuck this needy little pussy, bet she's just dying to be filled." He chuckled low, his hands lifting up your skirt to reveal your panty clad ass, before his fingers hooked into the sides of your panties and pulled them down your creamy thighs.
The sight of your drooling, puffy little pussy had Matt's mind nearly spinning as he groaned, his index and middle fingers dragging through your folds with ease, pulling a needy whine from your lips.
"So fuckin' wet for me, such a slut." He cooed from behind you, groaning low as he licked his fingers clean of your juices before he brought his hands to the waistband of his sweats, tugging it down along with his boxers to free his thick, hard, leaking cock.
"You're just thinking 'bout this dick, aren't you?" He tapped his cock against your ass a few times before teasing your folds with his tip, your juices and his pre-cum mixing together deliciously.
He pressed his tip to your entrance, but then he paused, making you whine for more before feeling his hand slap your ass, a yelp leaving your lips.
"Beg for it, bitch." He snarled, squeezing your plush ass as it filled his hands perfectly. Fucking hell, your dignity is on the other side of the fucking world now.
"Please, Matt.." You begged him, before another yelp was ripped from your lips as he smacked your ass once more, the sound echoing against the walls.
"You can do better than that, baby.." He cooed low as he soothed over where he smacked your ass, your soft skin turning a pretty shade of pink already. "Beg for it like the little slut you are."
"Please, Matt– I want your cock, want you to fuck me—" You begged once more, whining as you looked at him through the mirror, realizing that he was finally seeing you in a light he never did before, your brattiness reduced to begging for his dick. "Please."
He held eye contact with you for a moment through the mirror before finally smirking, chuckling low and sliding his hands up to grasp your waist. "That's more like it. Now, you're gonna take this dick like the fucking bratty little whore you are, got it?"
You nodded your head obediently, loving the way he seemed to feed off of it, even if it inflated his ego. You watched as he looked down at your pussy, the tip of his cock slowly pushing into your needy cunt, before he suddenly thrusted forward hard, your eyes doing wide as you felt his dick deep inside you.
"Fuck- wait! Matt!" You yelped out a gasp, his thick cock stretching out your virgin walls far too quickly for you to be ready for it.
"What?" He spat out from behind you, before he noticed the way your thighs already trembled, your breathing becoming harsh, and your face burying into the fold of your arm whilst your free hand gripped the edge of the counter so hard, your knuckles turned the same shade of white as the marble.
A smirk came to his lips as everything clicked into place, a dark chuckle leaving his lips as he leaned down to whisper into your ear.
"This your first time gettin' dick, ain't it, baby?" You couldn't help but whimper as you nodded pathetically, hearing a groan fall from his lips at that information before he stood back up.
You braced for him to thrust back into you like that again, but all you felt was his hips giving slow thrusts, his cock pumping in and out of your cunt nice and steady.
"Oh– fuuck—" You moaned, your gummy walls feeling each ridge and pulse of his dick deep within you, pretty little noises falling from you parted lips as he fucked you nice and slow.
"Knew you'd want this after that video, such a dirty little whore." He teased you, making you gasp in shock as he finally brought it up, your head turning to look back at him with your glossy, kiss-swollen lips parted.
"Bu–but I thought you sent it by– fuck– by accident?" You asked him in between moans and trying to hold yourself together as his cock pumped in and out of your sopping cunt deliciously.
A laugh came from him before he spoke. "You think I'm that fucking stupid? Of course not," He gave a harsh thrust into you, as if to test the waters, before smirking as he earned a whiny moan from you.
"Thought it'd be funny seeing you all strung up and nervous around me, knowing that you got off to the one guy you fucking despise," He chuckled, his hips moving in a steady pace.
Of course he fucking knew what he'd done to you, the asshole, and yet, you couldn't find the strength to snap at him for it. All you could do right now was take the dick you'd been begging for just last night.
You felt as he pulled his cock out till it was nearly at the tip, a whine leaving your lips as he teased you, before slamming back in, a choked gasp leaving you as pleasure burned deep throughout your entire body.
The sound of skin slapping skin echoed throughout the bathroom, mixing with your gorgeous, fucked out moans, his hips picking up speed as he fucked you good, so fucking good.
Your head felt light, your mind felt fuzzy, drool was practically begging to spill from the corner of your lips. Your toes curled, your fingers dug into anything you could grab onto, your entire world felt new and yet a mess at the same time, your words turning to nothing but babbles.
"Tell me who's fuckin' you this good." He growled into your ear, his hips snapping against your ass relentlessly, fingers digging into your hips. Holy. Fuck. Nothing in this world could've been better than this, absolutely fucking nothing. The way he fucked into you, his thick cock stretching you in a way you'd never felt before, the way he made you a fucking mess, just like he promised.
"Y..You– mm—" You whined in a slurred voice, so drunk on his cock that you could hardly form a sentence. You'd let him fuck you dumb over and over again if this is what it felt like every time.
"Can't fuckin' here you, slut," He spat, and suddenly, you felt his hand wrap around your neck from behind, a gasp leaving you lips as he lifted your head up, meeting you with the glorious view of you completely fucked out.
His face came up right next yours in the mirror, his eyes dark and full of pure lust. "Tell me. Who's fuckin' you. This. Good." He punctuated his words with a hard, deep thrust, watching as your eyes rolled back into your head from the pleasure.
"Y–you, Matt— You!" You choked out, that feeling deep in your tummy starting to flicker to life and burn as Matt pressed a kiss against your cheek before he spoke against your skin.
"What do you think Nate would think? Knowing you're acting like such a cock-drunk whore for me right now?"
You whined, thinking about how bad things could get if Nate ever found out about you two, even if this was just a one time thing. But as Matt hit that perfect spot within your velvety walls, you couldn't give two shits on the matter right now.
"Fuck–! R–right there—" You gasped out, needing to feel him at least hit that spot one more time, the pleasure making your toes practically curl from how good it felt.
"What? Here?" He teased, hitting the spot perfectly on his next thrust, earning a loud, whiny moan from you.
"Yes! Yes yes–" You babbled, gasping as he kept his thrusts right there, practically pounding into that same spot over and over and over again, your eyes rolling back as you felt his fingers squeeze around your throat.
"D–don't— mm— I–I'm gonna— oh fuuuck—" Tears came to your eyes from the otherworldly pleasure, your mouth hanging open as you looked at Matt through the mirror, his figure nearly towering over you from behind as he fucked you so good.
"Gonna cum, baby?" He started to pant, his hand on your hip gripping tight as he kept his thrusts consistent. "Fucking cum on this cock, c'mon, be a good little slut and cum all over this dick." He groaned out.
Your fingers gripped the edges of the counter hard, your legs nearly gave out, and that feeling built up within you, getting bigger and bigger and bigger until—
You gasped out a loud moan, nails clawing at the marble counter as you finally felt that knot snap within you, your orgasm washing over you in a powerful storm, bigger than you've ever felt before, better than you've ever experienced. It was like your world went white, completely washed from what once was, and replace only with this euphoric, heavenly feeling.
You finally came to your senses as you felt Matt's hips stutter as he too hit his peak, feeling warm, thick spurts of cum fill your cunt, painting your gummy walls white as he fucked his seed into you, thrusting a few more times before he finally stopped, his head falling to you shoulder.
"Holy... fuck..." You panted breathlessly as Matt nodded against your shoulder in silent agreement, a soft, weak chuckle leaving your lips.
Heavy breathing filled the bathroom for a few moments, Matt's hand leaving your neck and joining his other at your hips as they began slowly rubbing up and down your sides in a soothing manner. You never wanted to leave this moment.
But soon enough, Matt had to pull out of you, a soft mewl leaving your lips as his cock left you feeling empty, though being replaced by the feeling of his cum started to slowly drip from your cunt, a groan leaving his lips at the sight.
"Fuck, that's hot," He smirked, a playful feeling coming over you as you wiggled your hips a bit for him as his cum dripped down your inner thighs.
Suddenly, though, you felt his fingers scoop up as much as he could before pushing it back into your cunt, a gasped whimper leaving your lips as you turned your head to fix him with a glare, only to be met with a chuckle at how non-threatening you looked after being throughly fucked.
"Gotta keep you filled. Can't let you go without remembering how wrong you were, now can I?" He teased you, loving the way you rolled your eyes at him, smiling whilst trying to keep up a glare.
"Asshole." You muttered, but something pulled at your heart with the way he looked at you, still dark but.. warmer now.
"Brat." He murmured back almost affectionately, before pressing his lips to yours in a low, deep, passionate kiss, his lips moving slowly against yours in a hypnotic manner.
God, you could get used to this.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

a / n : worked CRAZY hard on this for a good while and i'm genuinely in LOVE with how it turned out- I really really hope you guys like it since it's my first go at a one shot
tysm @abijojo10 for requesting this, i had sm fun getting to write this and i hope it came out the way you wanted it to 😋
Inbox, dms, and requests are all open, hit me up wheneva babies <33
tags : @sillysillymatt, @jcsturniolo11, @strnilolover, @whore4mattsturniolo, @courta13, @sophand4n4, @blueboeh444, @mattspinkiefinger, @theyluvivi, @thecrawlys, @k4urltzx, @chrislova, @fadedstvrn, @emely9274, @raesturns, @hereforshits-snd-gigglesd, @sophsturns, @brookheartsmatt
(wanna be added to the list for future works? just click this link bby <33)
dividers → @cafekitsune and me
#y2kstarr★#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#dom matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo oneshot#nate doe#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x you#sturniolo fanfic
566 notes
·
View notes
Note
Adding further to this, everyone needs to stop jumping to try and say it's for disabled people. I am disabled, a shit tonne of fandom is disabled, because fandom is an escape.
It lets us meet people online, who don't give a shit if we can't speak out loud, who understand if we drop of the earth for a few days because of a flare up, and just want to make sure we are okay.
Fandom is something we can actually participate in, regardless of what issues we may have IRL.
So saying that, oh well, it's for disabled people to be able to write, is frankly offensive. We are just as capable, if not more capable of writing, then abled people (Due to hyper fixating many of us write more)
A tool to help would be a spell check. Text to speech of someone can't type, or if it was an assignment, extra time incase health got in the way.
An accommodation or tool allows us to achieve the same thing as an able bodied person. Generative AI is not writing, it is a Frankenstein of stolen content mashed together to seem original.
"Oh but I can't focus to write" then don't write right now, I've dropped off the face of tumbler for a few days because I couldn't focus to post anything good, rather then give my followers AI slop.
Or push, write anyways and edit later.
You use it for ideas?
There's thousands of ideas people post they would love to see written, or put up a post asking for asks!
You use to to roleplay?
I can guarantee, as someone who got fixated on the AI chat apps before I really learned how bad it is. I know it feels good, but can make your mental health dive so easy, and it's even easier to get addicted, don't.
Roleplaying with real people is even better anyways, and so much more satisfying, and the RP community on tumbler is live and well right now.
If you really can't compile your ideas well, don't. Post them as a scrambled lump of headcannons, people will still love it.
Don't be stealing content and fucking up the environment just because you are too fucking lazy to grind your work out.
Yes you won't be perfect at first, but I mean, no one is, you won't improve if you don't try. The first fiction I posted as a young teen? Was first person, constantly switching POV and was written, no kidding, like "I looked at him, he was hot, I blushed"
And you know what? People still enjoyed it!
The thing about fanfiction is it is from the fans! It people liking these blorbos, this universe enough they write their own stories.
And I could have edited this more, but no. I might seem protective of fanfiction, and that's because I am, it's an escape for a lot of people. Hell being able to post and interact with fandom helps keep a lot of people going, so we do not want it fucking full of ai slop.
Hey, you reblogged that AI post and I was surprised to see something so mean on your blog. "If you cant write unassisted, fuck you, youre a disgrace to the community." Is that really something you want on your blog?
Just in case this isn't a spam message:
Posting AI-generated content to a platform intended to be an archive for writers is not appropriate use of the platform. On a platform intended for human creation, it is rude and inappropriate to clog search results with AI-produced content which often plagiarizes the work of human authors.
Use of generative AI is also horrible for our environment, leading to massive waste of fossil fuel energy and water. We should not be doing damage to our planet for the sake of generating (robot-produced, often plagiarized) fiction, especially when the joy of fiction comes from the creation and emotion of real people.
Rather than giving a prompt to a generative AI, people should consider attempting to write their own work, or asking another writer from the fandom if they would be interested in writing it. Anyone who is capable of typing a prompt into ChatGPT is capable of writing a story. The first attempts may not be amazing, but that is true of any skill, and anyone can improve with time and practice - and while ChatGPT may give you big returns in your time, it doesn't give you practice, growth, or creativity, which is where the joy of writing should come from.
#‘it lets disabled people write and make art!’ you are pathetic and making excuses - signed a disabled person#how dare you say that when disabled people have been making art for as long as creation has existed#you think i never looked a crash in the fucking eye and wrote anyway?#Fuck ai#Fuck everything to do with it#It is not writing#And is offensive to any writers or disabled people#Sharkiesyaps
11K notes
·
View notes
Text



New territory.
Pairing: Simon Riley x Fem!Reader
Summary: intimacy is completely new territory for you, but you are willing to explore it with Simon. Feelings and connecting is new for Simon, but he'll get into it because of you.
Word count: just under 2k
Warning: 18+, sex.
Note: This was a request. And I am sad that it was made anonymously, so I cannot tag the person. Idea was great and I have like three different versions of this in my notes, so I might be posting all of them at some point. This one I had trouble with the ending actually. Also, not proofread or anything, so I'm sorry if it's messy, but I couldn't let this idea go to waste.

"Still on for tonight?"
"Yeah, Si. Pick me up at 7"
"It's a date then."
You tossed your phone onto the bed, shifting your attention back to the mirror.
Black lace bra, matching panties. Your eyes flicked to the red set draped over the chair.
You were overthinking this. Did Simon even care if your underwear matched? If it was expensive? The books said he would, so you’d gone out and bought multiple sets—delicate, pricey, and, if you were being honest, not the most comfortable.
Your boobs felt squished, lifted too high, and the panties clung in all the wrong places, riding up betweed your ass cheeks every time you moved. But then remembering how his eyes widened and a little comment spilled out of his mouth "Love the flowers, luv" when he saw your other panties the first time you let him undress you, even now, thinking about it, made you blush and get embarrassed.
You couldn't stop thinking about it for weeks. Even cancelled a few dates with Simon, thinking he'd make fun of them every time he saw you, but he never mentioned your flower pattern panties again.
You met him about seven months ago. In a bar. You weren’t sure what made him cross the room and sit beside you, but conversation came easy—lighthearted banter, a little flirting. When he offered to walk you home, you panicked. Played up your drunkenness, hoping he’d lose interest.
He didn’t.
Instead, he called a cab, made sure you got in safely, and asked for your number.
The next morning, you woke up to a text from him. And just like that, you started talking.
This—whatever it was—was uncharted territory for you. The touches, the teasing, the way he looked at you. And the intimacy that followed.
Pretty soon you found out that Simon wasn't a man for softness.
Sex, to him, had always been an outlet—nothing more than sweat and heat, hands grasping without tenderness, a way to escape his own head for a while. He was used to bodies tangled together, voices rough and demanding, the kind of urgency that burned fast and left nothing behind.
But months spent getting to know you made him experience new things too. He developed a need to be careful, to handle you like something precious.
And fuck, he wanted to.
He wanted to be gentle, to savor every shaky breath you gave him, every soft sigh against his skin. He wanted to be good for you.
By the time seven rolled around, you were ready, though your hands fidgeted against your thighs as you waited. The sound of a truck pulling up outside had your stomach flipping, and you grabbed your purse, smoothing your dress before heading out.
Simon leaned against the hood of his truck, arms crossed, his ever-present balaclava pulled up just enough to show the curve of his mouth. His gaze flicked over you, slow and deliberate, before he pushed off the hood and opened the passenger door for you.
"You look nice," he murmured as you slid into the seat.
Your heart stuttered a little at the low timbre of his voice.
"Thanks, Si."
The evening had been nice—dinner, easy conversation, and the kind of quiet moments that never felt awkward with Simon. The weather was mild enough for a walk afterward, his hand warm around yours as you strolled side by side.
Then came the question.
"Wanna crash at my place?"
Simon gave your fingers a gentle squeeze, his voice steady but softer than usual. "I mean... I leave in two days. Another month gone. Wouldn’t mind spending as much time with you as I can."
You knew what he was really saying. What the night would likely lead to. And just like that, your mind started spinning, already getting ahead of itself.
Kneeling in front of you, his hands found your thighs, thumbs brushing slow, soothing circles
Simon kissed your knee, an innocent touch, but he felt the way your breath hitched, how your fingers curled into the sheets. Every little reaction you had made his stomach tighten with something foreign, something deeper than just want.
He guided you through each step, letting you explore, letting you learn.
The first time you kissed him with intent, it stole his breath. The first time your hands hesitantly traced the scars on his chest, he had to fight the instinct to pull away. And the first time you let him undress you—slowly, carefully, with whispered reassurances—he realized he had never truly been with someone before.
Not like this.
He had never felt someone’s trust settle so heavily against his skin. Never known what it was like to be needed in a way that wasn’t just physical.
You were beneath him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he moved over you, inside you. Everything was new to you, and he had been patient, slow, careful. He tried to keep his hands gentle, but his patience frayed when you let out a soft sound of pleasure. His grip tightened, his kisses grew rougher, and he flipped you onto your stomach before you could even react.
"Stay just like that," he murmured, the authority in his voice instinctual.
You froze beneath him.
It wasn’t fear, but uncertainty. He didn’t notice—not right away. He was too caught up in the heat of it, too used to doing this with someone who already knew how rough he could get.
He guided himself to your entrance, his broad chest pressing firmly against your back, pinning you into the plush mattress beneath you.
The moment he pushed inside, he didn’t grant your body much time to adjust before his hips began to move, each thrust deep and unrelenting. His teeth found your shoulder, biting down- hard.
Then he hit that one spot, the one that sent a sharp, twisting sensation through you—not the kind that made your toes curl in pleasure, but something else entirely. A cry tore from your lips before you could stop it.
One moment you were on your stomach, the next you were on your back, now facing him.
“Thought you wanted this. You can take it.” he muttered, the words slipping out without thought.
It was something he might have said to someone else before. To someone who didn’t care how impersonal it sounded. But you weren’t someone else.
It was instinct, the way he shifted, the way his grip tightened just a little too much, the way his teeth caught against your throat with just a bit too much bite. His voice dropped into something darker, rougher, a sharp contrast to the tenderness he’d started with.
The way you stiffened, the way your breath hitched in a way that wasn’t pleasure. And then—
“Stop.”
It was soft, barely above a whisper, but it was enough to cut through the haze in his head.
His heart stopped.
Your hands were on his chest now, pushing lightly. Not frantic, not afraid, just firm. A boundary.
Fuck.
He moved off you immediately, sitting back, giving you space. His pulse pounded in his ears, a sharp rush of self-recrimination. He ran a hand over his face, breathing hard, stomach twisting at the thought that he’d hurt you.
You were breathing just as heavily, pulling the sheets up around yourself. Your eyes weren’t filled with fear—thank God—but there was something hesitant there, something uncertain, and it gutted him.
"Shit," Simon rasped, scrubbing a hand down his face.
You didn’t say anything right away, just curled into yourself slightly, the sheets gathered around your body like armor. You weren’t scared—he could see that, could feel it—but the hesitation in your eyes cut deeper than any blade ever had.
"I’m sorry." His voice was hoarse, rough. "I—fuck, I didn’t mean—"
"I know." You exhaled, slow, controlled. Not placating, not brushing it off. Just... steady.
That steadiness was the only thing keeping him from unraveling completely.
His jaw clenched as he forced himself to look at you, to meet your gaze instead of looking away like a coward. "I shouldn’t have—"
"I just... need a minute." Your fingers twisted in the sheets, knuckles going white. "It was just... too much."
He nodded, throat tight. Too much. Not rejection. Not fear. Just a line he’d crossed without realizing it.
Simon had never had to think about these things before—never had to learn softness. He'd spent years taking what was offered, using, being used. This—you—were different. And he’d fucked it up.
He nodded and shifted back further, giving you as much space as you needed. He’d wait. However long it took.
Because you were worth it.
You stayed like that for a while—silent, the weight of the moment hanging in the air. Simon didn’t push, didn’t say a word, just kept his distance, watching you with an intensity that seemed to strip away every last bit of pretense.
Finally, you shifted, drawing in a slow, steady breath. The sheets rustled as you pulled them tighter around you, but your body language softened, just a little.
"I’m okay," you said, your voice a little shaky but grounded. "I just... I need to feel like it's me you want, not just...” You paused. “Not just... whatever you’re used to.”
The air in the room seemed to shift. The words hit Simon like a hammer to the chest, the weight of them settling deeply in his stomach. He had spent so long in a world where everything was physical, where touch had no meaning beyond the moment—it was a reality he’d never questioned, until now. Until you.
"I want you," he said, his voice more vulnerable than ever before. "I want you, not... anything else. I fucked up, and I’m sorry."
To be honest, Simon had no idea what to say, how to make you understand, how to reassure you that you weren’t just another fleeting thing in his life, at least not anymore, not since he'd gotten to know you.
You quietly slipped out of bed, wrapping the sheets around your body. "I'll just... be a minute," you whispered, picking up your clothes as you made your way toward the bathroom.
As the bathroom door clicked shut behind you, Simon buried his face in his palms. "Great job, Riley," he muttered to himself.
What felt like an eternity to Simon passed in silence before you finally emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed. His gaze locked onto you, waiting for something — anything.
"You want me to take you home?" His voice was uncertain, a trace of fear creeping in.
You shook your head slowly, realizing just how this must look like to him. "No... no, I still want to spend time with you... just not... doing that."
Simon nodded, but it wasn’t the relief of understanding that he felt. Instead, for the first time in his life, he was gripped by an overwhelming fear — the fear that you might leave, that no one would be waiting for him when he returned from deployment. That after this night, once you're out the door in the morning, you might never want to see him.
#writers on tumblr#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x oc#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x female oc#simon ghost riley x female reader#simon riley x female reader#ghost x reader#ghost cod#cod
295 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Concert
Eunha X Male Reader | 11571 words
TW: Incest
—

"See ya mom!" my little sister Eunha shouted as she headed out the door.
She was going to her friend Umji's for a sleepover or something. If you asked me, the little denim skirt she was wearing under her poor-attempt-to-cover-it jacket said Umji's parents probably weren't home and it probably wasn't going to be just her and the other girls. More likely it would involve as much booze as high school kids could get their hands on and a bunch of horny teenagers leering at my little sister's outfit. I cringed at the thought, but she'd gotten past my parents so... whatever, I wasn't going to cause trouble.
Truthfully, I wasn't being completely honest with my parents either. Then again, they wouldn't get nearly as upset with me if I wasn't telling the truth as Eunha. I was in college and she was in high school. After all the shit I'd pulled in my senior year, my little sis was unlikely to get away with anything. She was lucky to sneak by without them seeing what she was wearing as she walked out the door. Her bare legs weren't exactly easy to miss.
It wasn't the first time either. Only two weeks ago I'd found Eunha passed out on the back stoop to our house. Obviously she knew some of the same tricks as I; if you were just quiet enough when opening the back door you could avoid walking past our parents' room on the way to your own after curfew.
I was on my way in and there was my little sis "sleeping" with her head against the post as if she'd just decided to take a seat on the way in, or so she told me when I shook her awake. But before I did... well I couldn't just un-see what she was wearing; besides, I hadn't the wits to complain. A little skirt that was fanned out where she sat, a snug cotton tank top that's black in color complemented her skin perfectly... she looked cute. I remember thinking then that if she was just another girl at the party I was coming from I probably would have tried to take her home.
That night she had gotten a little too drunk and walked home; she needed every bit of the support I offered as I took her upstairs to bed. Though that night was no different than the two or three times before when I'd found her in a similar state, I hoped she would finally take my advice not to come home so drunk again. Maybe next time I wouldn't be there to sling her over my shoulder on the way up the stairs. And I don't know many guys who would have covered her up so our parents didn't see her clothes all bunched around her chest and waist after I'd dropped her drunken self on the bed.
I think she knew I had done it, because she was especially nice to me that next day. I guess we understood each other better than I thought sometimes. It was probably the same reason that we exchanged that glance of knowing when we heard each other's answers to the question "what are your plans tonight?" from our dad. Sure I had the brotherly instinct to be worried about her in that outfit she couldn't quite hide under her coat. But I wouldn't stand in her way I was sure she'd be smart... enough.
And that was pretty much the last thought I had of her after I walked out the door. I took my truck over to my friend Minho's where we were meeting a few more friends. Minho had gotten us four tickets to an outdoor concert and our other three friends were going to try and sneak in - it wasn't too hard anyway. As soon as we were all loaded in the cab and truck bed both, a couple of cases of beer tucked between legs, we took off to a place a few miles outside the city.
When we got there of course the drinking started. there was more booze than I thought; I knew I'd have to leave my car behind. We all agreed to meet back at Mina's house where apparently nobody was home and then it was off to the front gate. Mina's friend Momo had caught my eye so I made sure to be near her when we went past the gate and inevitably lost a few stragglers. Momo was a tiny brunette with way bigger tits than I would have expected - probably due to a helpful bra. Her cute face didn't hurt but damn... I wondered if she had caught me staring one of the few times I couldn't take my eyes off her chest.
But once I got in... whoa... I didn't worry too much that Momo would be my go-to girl for the night because there were thousands of others. Hundreds...thousands, well I guess I am not great at approximating numbers but the venue was probably bigger than a football field in total. I saw the back fence where my friends would likely try and get in and headed to it.
"You jerk..." I heard from the bushes while standing there flirting with Momo.
It was Mina followed by a smiling Sung, the most drunk of our bunch that night, and I could tell he had just smacked her bare leg and probably a good handful of her ass. I couldn't help but laugh and neither could Momo. She put a hand on my arm and leaned in. I had to admit, she was pretty hot compared to a lot of the girls there; maybe I wouldn't have to even try that hard.
We all got together and stood in-line for a beer while I admired Momo and the other girls walking around in all manner of outfits and some in practically nothing at all. The music we were seeing was heavily electronic so from my little experience I knew this would be nothing short of a rave. I was starting to feel pretty dazed and that's probably why I was getting handsy with Momo.
By the time the music had started I'd lost count of my beer intake. I was holding her and Momo was rubbing against me. There really isn't a better feeling than the rumble of bass deep in your chest and the warm skin of a pretty girl close to you. Especially when she's feeling the same warm tingling that was pulling me closer to her.
At some point, I don't know when, we got separated. Perhaps it was the tan-skinned exotic looking girl who was leaning back with her hand caressing my neck. I looked down and she was wearing a top with fabric that crisscrossed her body so her sides were left bare. Her abdomen was just as tan as the rest of her and from the times she looked back at me I could see her eyes were no less alluring.
I think we made out for some time, but after talking to her for only a moment or so I realized, unfortunately, that she was either too dim-witted or too drunk to pass for more than a good-looking dance partner. The music was phenomenal, I was just the right amount of drunk, and I was flitting around from girl to girl and dancing like a fool. I was having a better time than I could have hoped for and even more so when I finally found my group of friends again. I remember thinking we should go to concerts like that more often when a really popular song came on and we started rough-housing and hollering as it began.
In the middle of the song there was a sudden jolt in the tempo and we were jumping up and down to the beat. I looked back. The crowd was jumping too, waves rippling back over the ocean of fans. Colored lights panned this way and that with the music, the beat of drums being absorbed by a dense blanket of people.
I was jumping and fist-pumping and doing all of the dumb stuff that seemed to be perfectly acceptable in that moment. Once I jumped and caught a glimpse of a guy crowd surfing. Again I jumped and saw the huge cloud of smoke that was hovering over the crowd. Once more and I caught a glimpse of what had to be the least dressed girl at the party. Naturally, I looked for her again.
Her whole back was bare, and it was all I could see of her through the throngs of people between us. I couldn't be sure but naturally I hoped her front was bare as well. She was jumping around wildly like me, and when she somewhat turned my way once or twice I could see she definitely wasn't wearing anything to support her breasts. They weren't huge, but from the side they looked like a nice little handful. It wasn't the first shirtless girl at the concert but usually the topless girls weren't the best to look at. This one had a toned little body and she looked like she knew how to use it.
I wandered forward without saying anything to my friends. A pang of guilt struck me for ditching them after we'd spent half the concert looking for each other, but I had to get closer to this girl. It was denser the closer I got to her. Not only was she farther up but it seemed like many of the guys around had the same idea as me. I pretended like I was pushing through to find my friends; that always seemed to work. All I ever got was the occasional grunt or mutter of frustration. I am a pretty decent sized guy so most people avoid conflict with me, I suppose.
I was about ten feet from her and my heart started to pound. I realized I was nervous. Something about the way this girl wasn't letting any of her leering onlookers near and seemed to be totally in her own world had me breathing fast and wondering what I would say. I watched her bob her head side to side, extend her arms up in the air and sway with the droning music the band was striking up in that moment.
The closer I got the better she looked... or maybe that was just the booze. When she turned to the side I saw a purple butterfly sticker over her nipple. Holy crap was that hot. It was almost as if seeing so much of her and yet being denied her fully naked form made me want her ten times more. The guts on this girl to wear so little to a concert that was sure to be full of young men with low morals... I resolved to take a shot.
I could see she had dirty pink hair now, and the only thing she seemed to have on besides two butterfly stickers was a short denim skirt. It wasn't unlike the one my little sister was hiding on her way out the door. I guess both of these girls knew how to get attention, though I hoped nobody had ever seen my Eunha without a top on, or so my protective instinct cautioned me. I finally made it close enough to make a move on the cutie, but not without a strong shoulder from a guy in a polo slightly larger than me. He yelled something and though I tried to ignore and walk past, I guess he wasn't pleased that I was getting between him and the nearly naked cutie. He grabbed my shoulder...
"Hey asshole!" he shouted and spun me his way.
I looked at him and tensed, wondering if I was going to have to defend myself or throw a punch.
"Relax man," I said, "I'm just looking for somebody."
"Fuck you!" he responded unreasonably, "you're just trying to get to the front!"
Usually, that would be true, but this time I was just trying to get near the most intoxicating girl I'd seen at the show. I readied myself to fight when I heard a voice behind me:
"OPPA!?"
The big guy's eyes darted over my shoulder. My fists were clenched and my already pounding heart had converted my nervous energy to adrenaline... yet the voice caught me off guard. The wide-eyed goon's gaze convinced me it was safe to turn around. And that's when I saw her.
denim skirt, some streaks of body paint across her abdomen and the two butterfly pasties I'd seen before were all there. The phenomenal body, perfect, firm breasts and adorable face I'd seen before too... on my little sister Eunha.
How could I not have seen? How didn't I know from the second I'd seen the familiar skirt? Why had my brain begged me to get closer to her when I must have known, subconsciously even, that this moment would come?
"Oppa!" she shouted again and then ran toward me. Her perfect little breasts jiggled as she pumped her legs and then jumped right at me. I caught her just in time, and it turned me toward the guy who had picked a fight. He glared, but it didn't seem he was going to interrupt us.
I could feel Eunha's tits pressed against my chest, and her toned legs firmly holding her in place. I was confused, a large part of me unwilling to let go of that magnetic pull that had drawn me to her. My little sister was practically naked in my arms and everyone around who had been staring at her for however long was watching us. Nobody could know who she was to me, or so I hoped. My eyes quickly scanned the crowd to see if any of our friends were watching. Her cheer friends were happily distracted near the front of the stage and there was at least a few hundred people between us and my group. I dared take my eyes off the crowd and look Eunha in the eye.
"Hey big bro," she said, still hanging on me like a monkey.
"Hey troublemaker." I said.
She smiled, a big, toothy grin, the way I always loved. Her gaze was a little friendly for a sister, as if the fact that her boobs were squished between us and our hips were locked together wasn't enough. I might have wondered where that was coming from, but I could smell whatever fruity vodka drink she'd had plenty of on her lips.
"YOU LIED!" Eunha pulled back while still seated in my arms and said loudly over the noise. "YOU told mom and dad that you were going to Minho's!"
"Oh yeah?" I asked, "and what about you?"
She scoffed, "what about ME?"
"I thought you were going to Umji's to practice some new cheer and sleep over?"
Eunha snickered guiltily. "Well, maybe I lied a little... you won't tell will you?"
"It depends," I threatened emptily.
Eunha was obviously one of those adorable drunks; I could hear it from the sing-songy inflection in her voice. But if you asked me she should not have been any kind of drunk with the hungry eyes I had seen fixed on her. Once again, maybe it was brotherly instinct or maybe I just knew what those guys were thinking.
I looked again at my little sister in my arms. I didn't know what to think. After all, I had come to her with much different intentions. She was still the same girl who'd just about stopped my heart when I saw her only from the side. Yes, I could see her flexing and moving her hips when I got close enough and her bare back was what had initially caught my eye. Her appearance had captured my attention, but her presence had drawn me in.
I wondered what our parents would think. Set aside Eunha's utter state of undress, and both of our irresponsible intoxication. What would they say if they saw Eunha wrapped around her brother with her teenage chest and tiny hips held tight to me. What would they say if they saw her moving up and down to the beat of the music, causing her to rub up against my already confused manhood... wait...?
She WAS doing it. Whether intentionally or not, that little minx... she was bouncing herself rhythmically and it was simply not the kind of contact a little sister should be making with her brother. She had to know... but as I looked at her again and saw that carefree smile and open mouth yelling out to the band, I knew I couldn't hold it against her.
I also knew I couldn't hold IT against her either. I was reacting to her attentions in a way that made me all the more conflicted. I lifted Eunha from me, quite easily except when she fought to hold on to me. I always loved her playfulness.
When I set her down again I was treated to another uninhibited look at her beautiful body. My little sister's tits or not, my hands struggled to stay at my sides and not reach out and touch the perky mounds that sagged not an inch on her chest. And those stickers, those fucking butterfly stickers... There was something so appealing about them - a childish and playful symbol that decorated my seductive and naughty little sister.
"You don't approve..." she said with a frown. Eunha must have caught me looking her up and down.
I used it as another excuse to gaze. Her tight tummy was streaked with paint like somebody had grabbed for her. I burned inside thinking it might have been some asshole in the crowd.
"What do you want me to say?" She had turned around now and was looking at the band while talking to me over her shoulder. Her cute butt was no less provoking; it sat proudly under a skirt that was too short to wear anywhere in my opinion.
She turned and her fingers grazed my face, just like the girl before had. I shivered at her touch; I wasn't supposed to like her doing that. "I dono..." she replied coyly. "Tell me I'm pretty at least..."
She turned again and bit her lower lip. GOD she was either a brilliant or totally natural seductress. I would tell her anything at that point.
But I still managed to hold back. "Well yea you're pretty..." I told her. I had to blink off the surging/tingling feeling of the alcohol as I tried to finish my thought. "...I just don't like all these guys staring at you."
I looked around. Maybe I was overreacting.
"Well now that my big brother is here, I think you can stop worrying." I felt her butt brush against me while she was dancing. She grabbed my arm and slung it around her. I could feel her naked front warm against my forearm.
"Shouldn't you be with some girl or something, not hanging with your little sister?" Eunha teased.
"Uh uh, now that I've found you, I'm not taking my eyes off you!" I replied quickly.
Eunha smiled and pressed her head against my shoulder, flattered. I hadn't meant it like that...
"That's not what I meant... I'm just saying..."
She turned away, seemingly pleased enough with the compliment I'd unintentionally paid her. I gave up, frustrated with her and simultaneously disarmed by her confidence.
"What about you Ms. butterflies?" She let out an incredulous 'uh!' like I'd somehow offended her by acknowledging it. "I'm surprised you haven't chosen one of your many admirers."
She was quick to respond too, "Well I'm with you aren't I?"
She looked me in the eye for a few seconds, and before I could say anything she turned back around. I would have argued, I should have, but it was true. She couldn't have known how I'd found her but I was guilty nonetheless. Eunha was by far the most interesting girl I'd come across the whole night, among thousands.
I couldn't keep my composure for too long either. I was still plenty drunk and so was she. After a minute or two of inner conflict and debating whether I should take Eunha home, leave her by herself or stay there with my scantily clad little sis, the music chose for me.
I really did love this band, and before I knew it I was dancing around just like before. This time, however, I was finally with a girl I actually wanted to be around. She was holding my arm, spinning around and I was enjoying watching her have a good time. Heck, I was having a great time myself, slowly forgetting to be careful with my hands... and my eyes with my newfound dance-partner.
I got somewhat lost in it all. Eunha was so gorgeous, and the music so entrancing... when I look back I remember my hands on her hips, running daringly up her side. I remember feeling her backside nudging against my front and the swelling it caused in my jeans. People were looking at us now and again, but nobody knew our secret. There was an attraction there that shouldn't have been, but it was ours and ours alone. I could dance with my little sister however I wanted, touch her wherever I wanted, and feel however I wanted. As long as she was by my side at this concert, nothing was forbidden.
Eunha stumbled once. I laughed at her and she feigned that she was upset. She even looked cute doing it. I worried for a moment that she might have been too drunk. Then she went back to dancing with me, leaning more heavily and being a little less inconspicuous about her affections. I felt her hands on mine. They guided me to her belly, where I could feel the feel the ridges of body-paint, the tautness of her skin, and even the dangly piercing that marked her belly-button.
She rolled her head back into me, with eyes mostly closed.
I had to act; I could have let this whole thing run its course and lead me wherever I was headed. But I knew where that would take me, and I was her older brother. I had a responsibility to Eunha and I was going to take care of her.
"It's time to go." I said, taking hold of her shoulders and saying into her ear.
"Mmmmh...okay." She said, standing up straighter and grinding her ass into me. I winced and breathed deeply.
Taking her hand I moved to our left. My car was somewhere parked out in the woods. We'd driven up close enough to hear the opener but off the beaten path to conceal the excessive drinking that usually took place before the concert. My friends wouldn't be coming back to the car, but I needed to take Eunha somewhere, if only to sleep it off.
I was determined as I began to weave through the crowd. I thought Eunha was going to just follow drunkenly along. She started to resist. 'What the heck!' I thought as I had to pull at her arm more firmly. I looked back and saw her brows furrowed and an angry glare.
I realized pretty quickly that my little sister had been acting a bit drunker than she actually was. Maybe she was using it as an excuse to be so carefree when we were dancing earlier. She hadn't resisted when we first left, but maybe she was expecting something else - not her brother chaperoning her to the car.
When we got clear of the densest part of the crowd I stopped and addressed my fuming little sister. What a sight she was: half-naked in denim and black and throwing a mini-tantrum. It was hard for me to stick to my purpose instead of acting on the urges I was feeling toward Eunha. I had to be the responsible one here, I didn't know just how much my little sister had to drink and how she was feeling about the way we were dancing earlier. I suspected she would have let it go further if I hadn't stopped.
"So...what..." Eunha said as she planted her feet and stared me down, "you're just gonna take me home and that's it?"
"No." I responded, "I was going to take you back to the truck and we can listen to the rest of the concert from there."
"Oh...okay." The corners of her mouth showed an embarrassed smile.
She took my hand, put it around her waist and walked, more amicably this time, side by side with me to the truck. It was getting a little colder now and I knew Eunha would be chilly, I could feel goosebumps on her bare skin. I pulled her tightly to me, my fingers pressing in to her warm, soft side.
When we finally got to my truck we were a ways from the crowd. The music still filled the empty woods around us and shafts of light penetrated the canopy of darkened treetops. It was an eerie place, made warm by the presence of Eunha at my side.
I hopped up into the truck bed and bent down to help my little sister up with me. Locking my hands under her arms I swiftly pulled her up and set her down in front of me. I couldn't avoid how close she came as her toes found the metal bed. I think she was impressed by the way I manhandled her, and I by the ease with which I could lift the tiny cutie. I don't care if she was my sister or not; feeling her youthful body slide into place pressed firmly to my front was enough to make my eyes roll back.
We stood there for a silent moment, neither of us knowing what to do next. Usually, with tension so thick I'd want nothing but to feel her lips on mine, but that wasn't an option. She nuzzled me, touching the tip of her nose to mine and breathing deeply. She was awaiting my next move.
After what felt like an eternity I reached down for the blankets in the storage locker, unfurling them and setting a few for us to lay on. I quickly positioned myself in the corner facing the concert to escape from our suggestive pose; Eunha followed and once again nuzzled under my arm.
My head swam with racing questions. Why were we acting like this? Why couldn't I just act the big brother and keep Eunha safe until she was sober enough to bring home? Why did every touch of her skin feel so electric?
It had to be the booze, or at least that's what I told myself despite the fact that it'd been an hour or two since my last drink. As soon as I settled in, threw a blanket over the two of us and felt my little sister snuggled up to me my worries began to melt away. The music, once again, captured me and the safety and warmth of our getaway was just what we both needed. A few people passed the truck but nobody close enough to notice us. It felt private, like we were all alone with nobody to bother us.
"I'm glad you found me," my little sister said, breaking the silence and staring up at me with her chin on my chest.
"I'm glad I found you too," I replied, "I don't know how much longer that pack of circling dogs would have left you alone."
Eunha giggled, "you think they saw something they liked?" She was clearly getting some enjoyment from goading me.
"More like they didn't see something... your clothes!"
Eunha laughed adorably and was clearly unphased this time by me calling out her outfit. In fact, she flipped the blanket off of us and opened up to me, causing her breasts to shake in place and her front to be utterly exposed to my view.
"You mean I'm not wearing enough?" she said, glancing down at herself and inviting me to do the same.
I couldn't NOT look. I set my eyes on her, seeing her perky breasts laying hardly any flatter and her athletic frame leading down to her bunched skirt. I had my eyes fixed upon her, but hers had found something else. She'd revealed her beautiful teenage body to me by flipping the blanket back, but she could see my lower half as well. And I was totally hot for her; there was no hiding the bulge in my shorts.
Eunha was clearly taken aback. As of yet I hadn't given her any direct indication that I was feeling lustful thoughts toward my little sister. And though she'd danced quite suggestively with me, we could still go home without feeling we needed to hide anything.
Yet my hardness had Eunha's mouth agape. Except it was not in disgust but rather something else. She knew what was going on in my head. I needed to be quick to act, to snub out the suggestion that I'd made unintentionally with my erection. But I was not in any position to think or act quickly. I didn't intend to... it was all too much and it was like Eunha was begging me to do something rash.
I planted my hand firmly under her breast, my thumb and forefinger plying the soft padded skin between them. Above sat the thin shroud of her butterfly and higher still a wide eyed and still open mouthed gaze from my little sister. She felt wonderful, and I finally had my hand on her teenage breast as I'd wanted to all night. I moved my fingers around, massaging her daringly.
Eunha's head rolled back a bit and she breathed in apprehensively. When I touched her more firmly next it elicited a soft "uhhh..." from her open mouth.
I kept moving my fingers in circles, handling her wonderful chest and marveling at the firmness of her unhindered breast. She let me continue long enough to build confidence. I took more of her in my hand and she sighed again, I could feel my little sister's hips begin to move involuntarily.
"Mmmmhh...Oppa" she cooed again. "We shouldn't... this is really naughty."
But her hips betrayed her words. They had found my leg and I could feel the heat from between hers as she urged herself against me. I explored her chest with my hand, moving it between her two breasts and up to her neck, then back to her other breast, feeling the butterfly sticker on my palm.
I wanted to feel more, so I pried at the edge of one sticker.
"Uhhhh Oppa... you can't," she protested, while continuing to gyrate on my leg.
I chose to listen to her body instead, and slowly peeled the wing of the butterfly backward. I watched her intently; she made no move to stop me. When I'd peeled enough to see the faintest denim of her small nipple she trembled with sensation. I pulled it off the rest of the way and saw in full what I'd been hoping for all night.
I intended to get to her other sticker but I immediately placed my hand on her breast and tested it gently. Her nipple must have been sensitive because she trembled once again.
I guess the heightened intensity of her further nakedness worked to my advantage because soon after, as my hand was sliding open-palmed over her taut stomach I felt hers moving slowly as well. First I felt it on my hip, then the soft spot of my pelvis, and then... as if it were her first time, her fingers lightly touched the bulge in my shorts.
It was my turn to groan. I had been tortured by Eunha's body all night and now she was finally moving to help relieve me. At first her hand dared not progress, resting enticingly over my hard cock with only layers of clothing between. But as I got more aggressive with my own hands and I helped pressure my knee back toward her grinding hips, my little sister found her confidence.
She wrapped as much of her hand around me as the fabric would allow and I gasped in response.
"Wowww," she whispered. It must have been bigger than she expected.
All the while, as my little sister was gaining the tenacity to take things further, I was already doing so myself. The sight of her exposed breast and my hand descending from it down her flat stomach was amazing enough, but my intentions to go lower had my heart pumping twice as hard.
My fingers reached the elastic waistband atop her denim skirt.
I could feel her breathing in and out, her abs tightening rhythmically.
We were both waiting for what I would do next. After a moment, I had waited long enough; I had to have more of my teenage sister.
I urged my fingertips between, feeling the soft skin and gentle curve of her hipbone as I did so. When I was just short of my target, Eunha's hand quickly found mine. Her palm came to rest atop mine, with the skirt between us.
Eunha's eyes looked up at me, full of desire and apprehension both. She bit at her lower lip before saying, "You should stop... unhhh... don't you think you should stop?"
She was probably right. If I didn't hold back now, things could go a lot further. I didn't know if my little sister was virgin but deep down I longed to find out. I wanted to have her in so many ways, to fuck her like she had been practically begging me all night. If the brother in me didn't intervene I might end up acting out every lust-filled vision I'd dreamt up while at Eunha's side all night, taking her in every position I'd longed to since I first caught glimpse of the beautiful cutie.
The decision was easy then. With Eunha's hand still firmly upon my member, and mine beneath her skirt as my eyes beheld her young, nearly-naked body, I threw caution to the wind. My fingers pressed down upon her mound and I watched as my little sister writhed in pleasure. Whether her protest was empty or not, the second my fingers pressured from outside her panties she was gone.
I rubbed in small circles where I could feel the precipice of her tiny opening. Even through the cloth of her bikini underwear I could feel that my little sis was wet for me. She lifted her hips when I didn't press hard enough. The hand that had been there to stop me now pushed my fingers more firmly against her.
Eunha's other hand fumbled around my shorts as she struggled to multi-task. Hard as it may have been for her to cope with her brother's attention to her aching sex, she eventually worked her hand inside my shorts.
Something clicked in me when she finally grasped me firmly, her hand on my bare cock. I was fully overcome with desire, love and lust for my little Eunha. Her pretty face looked focused upon returning the favor I was working on her pussy. Her eyes flitted to mine occasionally and then back to her hand as it worked up and down within my shorts. When our gazes met, there was no more worry or guilt, only the love and understanding of brother and sister with a clear lust for more.
She must have gotten frustrated by the obstacle of my shorts because moments later she hastily tugged the elastic band over the tent that had been formed there. My sizable penis sprang free to the open air and Eunha's longing eyes. They widened as she revealed what her hand already knew to be more than she had expected.
I took her brazenness as invitation, quickly dragging her skirt and panties both down to her knees. Eunha's face cast a second of shyness as I looked down, making sure the blanket hadn't covered my little sister's lower half as I disrobed her. She was totally bare, and from what I could tell her opening as small as I'd ever seen. If I intended to make love to her that night, she was likely to need a lot of time to adjust to my size.
Eunha continued her ministrations and explored all over me, gently grazing my head with her fingertips and testing the weight of my full balls with her hand. I touched down to my little sister's bare pussy for the first time as well. She quivered as I contacted her warmth. With two fingers I straddled her clit and stroked the full length of her young quim.
"Oooohh...fuuuuuck,.." Eunha mewed, "I can't believe we're doing this... feels so... ughhh... good."
I kept at her, rotating my fingers about her button and watching her squirm when I touched her just right. Seeing her back arch, abs ripple and her pretty breasts shift as I pleasured her, I nearly exploded. Eunha's hair was tussled over one eye; with my arm that was wrapped around her I pushed it back and rolled her toward me.
We kissed for the first time.
She tested my lips, pecking at them. I attempted to meet them more firmly but she teased me. I pulled her more tightly to me, yet still she withheld. I could sense her smile and then the breathy giggle that followed it, her breath tickling my chin.
I leaned in closer and caught her. Our lips touched firmly at last, and we both paused. We had already crossed many lines, but kissing my little sister felt equally as intimate, if not more. I pried my lips open a bit. Eunha did the same, pecking at me again. Then she pressed firmly to me, our noses intertwined and my hand left her wanton opening.
Within seconds our tongues were touching for the first time, lightly at first. But then it was more eagerly. I wanted to feel everything my little sister had to offer. Eunha sat up to get a better angle at which to kiss me but I had a bigger plans. I wanted Eunha atop me, in all her beauty, sitting in my lap and kissing me without inhibition.
I fumbled to remove my shorts the rest of the way and then Eunha's skirt. My efforts elicited a laugh from my little pink sis, but she was silenced as soon as I had my hands on her hips and pulled her atop me.
Her knees rested softly on the blanket beneath us.
Her hips had come to rest so that my erection was securely pinned beneath her bare pussy.
She looked down, with heightened awareness at the new contact we were making. I flexed my cock to make it all the more intense for her, for us both. Looking up, with one breast bare and the other still hidden beneath the remaining butterfly, I reached for it. Pausing a moment, as if I hadn't been fondling her other breast for the last ten minutes, I felt her soft skin and teased it.
Then I peeled the sticker off all in one motion. It didn't seem too painful but Eunha inhaled sharply all the same. Now she was totally naked to me. The reality aroused me: my little sister completely naked with her brother's cock actually touching her teenage pussy, But the sight spurred me to action. I urged my hands up her abdomen, holding her firmly and bringing them to her perfect breasts.
I relished the look on Eunha's face as she felt my hands upon her. I couldn't know exactly what was going on in her head but somehow I knew she was as willing a participant as I.
"God you are so beautiful Eunha," I told her, watching a big smile form on her face. She leaned down and kissed me with gratitude. I bet she looked wonderful from behind in her prone position.
After a few seconds she broke the kiss. "You are a good brother, Oppa. I love you so much."
"Somehow, I don't think Mom and Dad would agree," I said, glancing down between us were my erection was planted firmly between her tiny bare lips.
Eunha responded by thrusting her hips forward and backward along the length of my shaft. We both gasped in unison at the sensation. Our contact was near the real thing and at any moment one of us could have taken control and consummated the incestuous act we were building toward.
"Mom and Dad don't know how you protected me from all those creeps... ugh... " she moved back and forth again, "And they don't know how you tried to be good when I was being so naughty with my dancing. Oh fuck..." My little sister's words had made me involuntarily thrust my hips toward her, increasing the contact with her slit.
I had written off so much of Eunha's behavior tonight as drunkenness and now she was admitting to doing it on purpose. The tricky little tease; maybe all of those times her hand or butt had come in contact with my crotch in front of the stage weren't quite so accidental. I doubted it now.
I had one hand massaging her breasts, and another one forged a path between them and up to her neck. I half-encircled it gently and caressed her sensitive skin there.
"Oh Eunha," I said as she once again rolled her hips along my rod. "I want you so badly sis... you're driving me crazy." She obviously took that as an invitation to tease me more, lifting from my hips and letting my tip prod at her pussy. My baby sis pushed just softly enough that I was forbidden entrance before she lowered herself off again and I was rendered helpless.
"I don't want to take advantage... uhhh... " I said as she lifted up and directed my head to her pussy again. Watching me intently and capturing my gaze, she bore down on my tip enough that I held my breath and wondered what she'd do next. If I lifted my hips even an inch now my little sister would be as skewered on me as she was playing at.
She rolled her hips and my head again missed its mark. She was torturing me once more, and I was near taking control and teaching her a lesson. But Eunha had done it so she could lean in and kiss me. It's not that I didn't enjoy making out with the beautiful goddess, but I had been too close not to go further. As if she could read my mind, she removed her lips and hovered close to mine
"Oppa..." she assured me, "I want this."
With that I watched my teenage sister lift her hips from my lap and reach between us. She took hold of my cock and pointed it directly where we both wanted it. She lowered just enough to hold me in place before fixing her eyes upon mine.
All I could do was marvel, placing my hands on her hips lightly and giving my little sister complete control. I watched her, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, gazing down between us as she applied more weight. I could tell from the way her opening resisted me that she would be far tighter than I could have hoped.
"Ohh fuck bro... you're soo big... I gotta go slow."
I longed to be inside her, but I wanted Eunha to be as comfortable as possible. "It's okay sis, take your time."
She was plenty wet, her sliding back and forth already had my shaft glistening in the moonlight. She was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen. Her dirty pink hair framed her face just so, her eyes were closed for the moment as she concentrated on lowering, torturously slowly. Her toned body held breath as she tried to continue.
I felt my head finally part her little pussy lips and wondered if she could feel me throbbing to be inside her.
And then there was resistance. Eunha's eyes were still closed so I could not search them for answer. I watched her bite her lip as she pushed past what was obviously an uncomfortable obstacle.
"Uhhhh...owwww..." she howled in a mixture of pleasure and pain.
Eunha didn't open her eyes again until she had come to rest. My staff was fully immersed in my little sister and she was panting despite being completely still.
"Oh Eunha," I said, finding her eyes desperately upon mine. "Are you a virgin baby sis?"
She grinned, though her furrowed brow revealed she was still adjusting to having her big brother filling her so completely.
"Not anymore.." she quipped. Eunha was always clever; even, it seemed, when impaled on her brother's cock.
"I didn't... ughhh..." I could feel her pulsing from all the sensation being so full was causing her, "I didn't know Eunha..."
She moved to bring our faces together again. Even the slightest movement seemed to bring her more sensation to cope with and deep breaths by which to do so.
"It's okay Oppa..." she took another breath, "I wanted it to be you..."
I was enamored. My gorgeous sister had given me the most treasured gift she had to offer. Her wonderful personality, her perfect teenage body, and now her eighteen-year virginity was mine. My hands gripped her hips more tightly. We kissed, and simultaneously I helped Eunha lift her tiny pelvis up along the path my erection allowed.
She hummed against my lips. I could feel her tense as my head brushed over her broken hymen. When her entrance finally gave way to the ridges of my tip we broke our kiss. She let the head linger at her opening, threatening entrance at any second.
"Are you ready Eunha?" I asked her.
"Uh huh," she complied.
We both assisted in lowering her down, feeling me slide into my little sister and fill her so perfectly it was like I was meant to be there.
Eunha howled, "Oooooouuuww... fuck Oppa...slower..."
We both watched as inch after inch disappeared into her. I might have urged her faster if not for the marks her nails were leaving in my arms as she held on and took me deeper. Instead I just held her and savored every second that my little sister allowed me to be inside of her. As I watched her naked little body sink lower I remained amazed that I was truly making love to the younger sister I'd known and loved all my life.
Eunha had always been adorable. She'd been the youngest cheerleader when she started high school, she loved to drive boys crazy with whatever outfits our parents would let her get away with, and she had come into her pretty teenage body early on.
Her breasts had been the same size for years, often tucked visibly into the tight-fit clothing she wore. She always had the dimples and cute cheeks, though her blue eyes were equally distracting. Years of being active had sculpted her frame. As I looked at her now I saw that the little sister I'd watched grow up for years had a body to marvel at: thin at the waist with the hint of hipbones, a slender abdomen and the bulge of her ribcage before those mouth-watering teen breasts.
I reached around to grab Eunha's butt. It was firm like the rest of her but definitely something to hold on to. I did so as she continued her up and down movements on my cock.
"Fuckk... Oh God Oppa..." she called out,
"Eunha... ughh... you're so tight sis..." I didn't know how long I could last with my baby sis controlling the tempo and squeezing my shaft so securely.
"Ohmyyygod... I can't believe we're... mmmmhhhh..." she was upping the pace at which she lifted her hips and brought them down to meet mine. I could feel my tip prodding her deep inside, the very end of her tight channel soft against my tip. "I can't believe I'm fucking my brotherrrr...uhhhh"
My hands moved about. One gripped her hip tightly and started to urge her more roughly up and down. The other gripped her side and breast alternately, I wanted to feel as much of her tiny body as I could.
The music still droned in the background. Both of us had ceased hearing it long ago, listening only to each other's breathing and sounds of ecstasy. The lights flickered between the trees and the moon shone down on us from above. Not far off were thousands of people fixated on the loud music and dancing. I thought nothing of it, instead ensnared by my nude baby sister humping herself atop me.
I shifted, sitting upright with my back against the window to the cab. Eunha didn't miss a beat, pressing her breasts firmly against me and rocking her hips in our new position. She lowered herself fully onto me, with her clit pressed against my base. My little sister may have been a virgin, but she was quickly discovering all the ways sex could make her feel.
She rolled her hips around. Locked together my tip sought new ground inside of her and she writhed as it prodded her deep within.
She gasped aloud, "ohhhHHH... Fuuuck bro... It's so far in me..."
"I know Eunha, you feel amazing," I told her, "I don't know how much more I can take."
It was like that only encouraged her. "You can't come yet Oppa... uhhh..." she grabbed on to my neck and shoulder and started rocking her hips in a way no girl I'd been with before had ever done.
"I'm not wearing a c...shit Eunha slow down...I'm not wearing a condom!"
The feeling of my little sister urging my cock in and out of her was racing me toward release faster than I could control...
"Don't cum yet... just wait..." she pleaded.
She didn't slow down, I was afraid of what might happen if she kept it up. The little teenage troublemaker confirmed my fears.
"I'm not...ohhh..." she could feel my hands trying to slow her down, she pushed them from her... "I'm not on birth control ... you can't yet I'm really ... fuuuucking close."
My head was dazed, my hands didn't know what to do and my mind was torn trying to stop me cumming in my little sis and wondering what would happen if I did. It was then that Eunha nuzzled her head to mine and locked her hips again. She gasped in my ear and then called my name.
I was going to be able to hold out. Getting my little sister pregnant was less a concern now as was watching her have her first orgasm with a man, let alone me: her brother.
"Ooooooouuuhhhhh... Daaaaaaan..." she howled, shaking so much I had to hold her to make sure she wouldn't fall from my lap.
I withdrew from her what little distance I could with the quaking little girl in my arms and pushed back inside, thinking I would only add to her orgasm. It was a grievous mistake. My little sister cumming in my lap and the one last, pivotal thrust had built me too far.
When I felt her mound connect with me, I couldn't withhold the first jet of sperm that I sent as deep into my little sister's pussy as was possible. Nor could I stop the second, or the third. Eunha was so firmly planted with me inside and her body trembling from her electric climax that I couldn't have dreamed of removing her.
Nor did I want to. In a few fateful seconds I flooded my little Eunha with cum. She pushed at my chest early enough to lean back and look deep into my eyes while my tip was spurting its final, purposeful rope of semen into my little sister's fertile womb. If the time was right, there was no question that I'd filled Eunha with enough of her brother's cum to assure that we were both in a bit of trouble.
We looked down. The juncture between us was slick with our combined fluids. I could see the denim gleam of my cum attempting to work its way out. It had reached as deep within her as it could go and now sought another way out.
The evidence of our incest was unmistakable, and the look that we shared after we both saw it was fraught with wonder. What was Eunha thinking? She had to know what her brother had just done and what it meant; was she upset with me?
She answered with a kiss.
She leaned in and hugged me close. It felt reassuring having her pressed against me. It was even more comforting the passion with which we entwined our tongues and made out until Eunha backed off to speak.
"Sooo... you came inside me..." Her voice held no disappointment whatsoever.
"Yeah... I'm so sorry... I couldn't stop it, when you..." but she stilled my voice with a finger upon my lips.
"Uh uh," she denied me, "don't be sorry. I knew you might unless I stopped... but I didn't want to." She smiled mischievously. Her look was incredibly naughty, notwithstanding the fact that her tiny pussy was still dripping with her brother's cum and his cock still hard and lodged inside of her.
I was once again overcome with love for my little sister. She wasn't just the perky teen that I used to babysit. She was that, but she was now a hot little high schooler that had just given her virginity to her brother and done a fantastic job for her first time. It made her unspeakably naughty and desirable. She was my own personal eighteen year old sex-symbol, and I couldn't wait to see what trouble she would drum up next.
"It's just that I'm at... like... the best time to get pregnant right now, or at least that's what my schedule from SexEd says" she told me, biting her pointer finger like she had for years when she did something naughty.
"Oh..." was all I could say.
I was still so hard in Eunha's slick tunnel; the danger we were in did nothing to quell that. I'm quite certain that it only made matters worse, because I was already having thoughts that I wasn't done with my little sister for the night.
She looked down, "Oh my God, you came so much! I can feel it in me! It's really warm," her face showed an obviously faked look of concern, "what if you put a baby in your own baby sister?"
"What should we do?" I asked her, incredulous.
She looked deep in thought for a moment and then said, "I think you should fuck me again, just to be sure."
I must have heard her wrong. She must not have meant she wanted us to have unprotected sex again, right there in the truck bed. When she slowly pulled herself off of me I was certain that I'd just heard what I wanted to.
She got on all fours in front of me. There was cum trailing from her bald teen pussy, I ached to feel it wrapped around me again.
"Will you fuck me like this?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at me. "Doggy right?" she looked excited to know the position.
I was paralyzed. The reality of everything... the fact that I had my little sister naked in the bed of my truck, that I'd just pumped her fertile pussy full of my sperm without birth control, and now... she wanted me to do it again?
"Come on brother! You already fucked me once, and you filled me up with all that sticky cum." She shook her behind at me, taunting me. "Don't you want to fuck me again Oppa?"
I cautiously moved forward, my erection wagged in front of me, revealing my mind to her.
"Pleaaase...?" she said with a whine.
Her whine turned to a whimper when I touched my tip to her entrance once more. I slid it up from a few inches below, bringing with it the spunk that had escaped. Looking my little sister in the eye and seeing her bite her lip in anticipation, I pushed my tip between her pussy lips and in one long stroke I sank back into her, aided by our own fluids.
Though she'd already taken my size minutes before, it was obvious that she still had to adjust to each stroke.
"Ouwww... fuck it's big... ouuuhhh... be gentle with me... ugh... Oppa," she said after I'd started to thrust into her rhythmically.
I slowed down, but as my hips met her butt I pushed hard and prodded the soft spot at her cervix. We both drew inward a deep breath when I did, and then Eunha whimpered again as I withdrew.
I grasped her as I thrusted, my thumbs each pushing into her cheeks and fingers wrapped firmly around her hips. My little sister was small enough that my hands almost entirely encircled her hips. The slick sound of me penetrating my sister was audible on the night air, and I realized that the music had finally stopped. The cries of my little sister were adorable yet I hoped they didn't draw too much attention.
"Fuck me Oppa... fuck your little sister!" She encouraged me. I'd hardly ever heard her swear. Though, with my hard cock buried inside Eunha, I knew I was learning a lot about the tiny pink-haired cutie tonight.
"Oh Eunha..." I called to her, "I love you little sis, unhhh... you feel so good... I'm so glad I found you tonight."
She reached back and grabbed my hand, then got up on her knees. I held her with my hand across her chest, palming her breast as she turned. "I love you too Oppa...ughh ... oh Fuck..." she yelped, our upright position had brought a new angle at which I was penetrating her. "I'm so happy you found me too..." she turned to kiss me. I kept urging my cock into her deeply "Jesus...fuck...I've wanted you to fuck me...uhhh for a long time," she whispered.
I was surprised. I'd thought of my little sister many times before, even imagined her when I was with other girls. She was so adorable and her tight little body had been torturing me for many years, but I wrote it off as me being a typical horny young guy. I didn't think Eunha had similar feelings.
She seemed to read the surprise on my face. "Uh huh," she affirmed, "yeah I've thought about you a lot... mmmnhh uhhhh..." she tried hard to push her ass back toward me was I met it with the slapping sound of my own thrusts.
"Remember when we went camping...ughhhh owww... with Mom and Dad?" She was having trouble talking through panting fits, but she seemed to be aroused telling me, "You kept waking up spooning me?" she asked.
"Uuuuhhh keep fucking me," she demanded as I paused, remembering the weekend.
"You had a stiffy the whole time..." I remembered, those two nights were torture and I felt so guilty wondering if my little sis had felt my hardness against her each time.
"I remember Eunha..." I put my hand around her neck, holding it daringly but gently there.
"I did that on purpose...ooohh oooh fuck..." she gasped as I impaled her harder. "I kept hoping you'd just give in and fuck me... just like you are... uhh... right... now."
My head was spinning. My little sister was blowing my mind and taking every inch of my cock at the same time. I was like an animal as I pulled out from her and quickly turned her to sit on the tool chest. She was so light and our lovemaking so aligned that we barely missed a beat.
Looking at her, seated atop the metal box and with her arms and legs around me, I pointed my cock without touching it and entered her again. I was watching her face intently. Her mouth opened. She cooed as I shoved into her again. She spasmed as I bottomed out.
"Fuuuck Oppa..." she complained, "it feels bigger like this."
I didn't stop. I withdrew and then sank home again. Eunha jerked forward as I prodded her deeply. I could have slowed down but I was so mad with lust that I didn't desire to in the slightest. I just kept pulling out of my little sister and driving into her, taking her completely.
"Oppa... uhhh I can't take it... wait... ohhh God..."
She was too weak to hold me off and I knew that if I kept fucking her I'd send her into another orgasm. I thrust again and again. Eunha's abdomen flexed. The soft flesh between her hips mounded to accept my cock into her. I grasped my little sister's hips and held her tight as I impaled her and made her mine.
When it had built enough, Eunha's climax seemed to deny her the ability to control her movements. Her hands fumbled at my chest and hips. Her legs tightly clutched around at my backside and her head rolled to the side. I felt her quim grip me and then she was cumming hard. Fluid coated our union and my little sister screamed out.
Some hundred feet away a group of concert goers must have heard her. They were walking back to their car like me and could probably see the two of us making love in the bed of my truck. My little sister was trying to contain herself but when I didn't stop pushing inside of her over and over she could do little to quiet her moaning.
The spectators would see the tiny pink-haired girl writhing and calling out through a voracious orgasm. They'd see a man, quite a bit larger than her, obviously driving her to such action with strong thrusts. Only we would know the truth, and having onlookers didn't stand a chance of stopping me from finishing off my little sis.
I did slow down so she could catch her breath. She looked at me, almost frustrated. "Oh my God..." she said, still trying to inhale and exhale deeply. She watched me, and quickly sensed by the very slow in and out movement of my hips that I wasn't finished.
"Aww, do you wanna cum Oppa?" she said, sounding like she was taunting me. "Do you wanna cum inside your little sister again?"
I did, desperately. I resumed my urgency.
"But you could get me pregnant Oppa..." she warned. "Are you gonna shoot your sticky cum inside your naughty little sister again...uhhh...even thou...oh fuck... even though I'm not on birth control?"
Her legs were pulling at me. One of her hands had my neck and the other found my balls, gently massaging them.
"But Oppa...oooOOO" she whined, "I'm only eighteen!...Ohfuckyourbig..." she cried as I buried my cock into her tight pussy roughly. "You shouldn't fill up your little sister...uhhh...with your... hot...sticky... cum "
I was close, and Eunha's words had brought me there. I'd never heard her swear before, let alone talk dirty with her brother's cock disappearing in and out of her as she practically begged for it.
"I'm gonna...ohhh... Eunha..."
I held onto her and let my lust do the rest. Her tiny frame writhed and accepted me, her teenage breasts shaking with each thrust.
"It's okay baby..." she told me, "cum for me big brother...ohhhh... cum in my little pussy... cum inside your little sister... get me ...FUCKKK... get me pregnant... I want it."
That was it, Eunha's tiny body, her hand massaging my balls, and her teasing words had brought me to my knees. I erupted into her.
It didn't seem possible, but nonetheless it felt like more than the first time. As I released rope after rope of forbidden semen into my little sister, I buried myself as deeply into her as I could. It jetted perfectly at the entrance to her womb. I coated her insides for the second time that night. And when I had all but filled my baby sis with everything I had, she trembled into a short but rewarding orgasm of her own. I could only move an inch or so within her without stimulating my own hypersensitive tip, but when I did I could feel a few last pumps of my cum added into little Eunha as she quivered through her own climax.
I held her close to me until I felt her pleasure subside. I picked her up and lay us down in the corner of the truck bed with the blankets around us. We were too hot to lay beneath one just yet but I made sure to keep Eunha warm as we lay there together.
Eunha spoke first.
"That was..." she seemed short of words, "the best thing that's ever happened to me."
I smiled at her affection. She snuggled close.
"You were perfect little sis. You ARE perfect."
She had the biggest grin on her face from my compliment. I loved seeing her so satisfied.
My hard member had not yet left her. If I wasn't so exhausted from, first the concert, and then the most amorous and sapping lovemaking I'd probably ever experience, I would have fucked my little sister again. I think she felt the same. She was totally limp in my arms, but we were both content to remain locked together at the hips with brother's cock within his own little sister.
"Now you came inside me twice!" she stated, "I can't believe how it feels, there's so much in me!"
She was right. Both times I had unloaded more into my little sister than I thought possible. I made a motion to slide my cock, finally, from inside of my teenage sister. Eunha stopped me.
"No...mnnnhhh... I want to keep it in me, just stay there a while." she instructed.
I obeyed, wincing as I returned the inch I'd pulled out of her tunnel. Both Eunha and I felt certain that she would be pregnant; there was no harm in letting my spunk warm her a while longer.
We simply remained there, quiet but for the sound of crickets and the distant voices of men disassembling the stage. Somewhere my friends were probably wondering where I was. The guys I had arrived with were probably still trying to get with one of the girls they'd brought or met at the concert. None of them would know, and I could never tell what had happened after I'd taken off toward the girl with butterfly.
I looked down at her, remembering how badly I'd wanted exactly this as I saw her across the crowd. But it was better than I had ever imagined. I had just made love to the most beautiful girl at the concert, and the most wonderful girl I'd always known.
"I love you bro," she said to me after a few moments.
"I love you too sis."
"You were better than I ever dreamed." she insisted, "I hope you aren't done with me now?" Her face had that puppy-dog look she always used on my dad. I loved it, but it wasn't necessary.
"No way Eunha," I promised, "I'm your brother, and I'll never be 'done' with you."
"Good," replied my little sister, "because I want you to fuck me and fill me up like you did everywhere we go... "
"Sure little sis," I laughed.
"In your truck...on my bed... at my school... in mom and dad's bed..." she prattled on. I caressed her abs and breasts lovingly as she spoke. When she mentioned our parents we both paused.
"What'll we tell Mom and Dad?" she asked.
"Nothing, obviously!" I responded without hesitation.
"No, silly, what will we tell them when I'm pregnant with my big brother's baby?" as if it was assured.
"We don't know that yet Eunha."
"Well if you didn't just get me pregnant, Oppa, you will soon," she said, matter-of-factly. Somehow, I loved the thought. My baby sister Eunha, walking around in public with the bump of her big brother's child...
I made love to my little sister again that night, hours later after we'd snuggled up in the cab of the truck and fallen asleep. I awoke to her spooning with me like she had that night long ago when we were camping. This time, my cock found the right place: inside my cute, eighteen-year-old, unprotected and willing little sister Eunha. It found there over and over again until I came inside her without a care in the world but to have Eunha in my arms.
Months later, the story could change if we kept up the way we were. But for now, both my little sister and I were glad that we'd gone to the same concert.
#gfriend smut#viviz smut#eunha smut#gg smut#kpop smut#male reader smut#gfriend#viviz#eunha#smut#kpop#viviz eunha#gfriend eunha
202 notes
·
View notes
Text
find the words | choi su-bong (thanos)


・❥・ summary: no matter how many times you tell him you love him, he brushes it off but little do you know he feels the same. ・❥・word count: 1.4k ・❥・warnings: angst, mentions of death, lots of swearing ・❥・ authors note: i’m sorry if the formatting is off, im posting this mobile!! but im back with my thanos fics <3
If there was one thing that Choi Subong was certain of, it was that he didn’t deserve love. He was not a good person. He wasn’t the kind of man that was good for anyone and he knew that. He was toxic – constantly popping pills and acting like an asshole at any given opportunity. In his heart, he would consider himself unlovable. What kind of person would want to love a loser like him anyway? No, he was fine with it. At least this way he couldn’t ever break anyone’s heart, he didn’t have to let anyone down. Under all the bravado and the act he put on, he was just a scared little boy who needed his precious, colourful pills to survive. When he didn’t take one he was an anxious mess, his brain a never-ending stream of dark and scary thoughts that he never wanted to dive into. He was a broken man. The world had chewed him up and spit him out to the point he didn’t think he deserved anything anymore.
You, though. You had wormed your way into his cold, barely beating heart from the second he had met you. The bright smile you always wore on your face, the way you looked at him like he mattered – it meant more to him than you knew. In fact, you meant more to him than anything else in the world. He just couldn’t tell you. He didn’t need to drag you down with him. All you deserved was peace and happiness – both things that he couldn’t give you. So, he hid his feelings deep, deep down. Actually, in his cross necklace where he kept his drugs. One time when he’d been off the pills, he needed an outlet and thought it was a good idea to write you a letter telling you how he felt about you. Of course, he would never give it to you but it would remain close to chest. Literally.
When he had laid eyes on you in this shithole of a place after the first game, he almost wanted to kill you himself. How could you have landed yourself in a situation like this? When you’d told him you’d done it to try and raise the money to help him pay off his debts, he’d lost his mind. He’d chewed you out for being stupid but you didn’t care. You would do anything for him. No matter how many times you tried to tell him that, he always brushed it off.
The Mingle game had just ended, Thanos had his arms wrapped around you in a tight hug, your body pressing firmly against his. One of his hands rested on the small of your back, the other cradling your head as he held you against him. Each game his panic escalated, he couldn't lose you; vowing to do anything he could to keep you safe. Your arms rested gently on his back, rubbing it soothingly.
“It’s okay, I’m okay,” you assured him, your heart thumping in your chest as he nuzzled his head into your neck. It was moments like this with him that you cherished the most. You were the only person in the world that he’d hold like this.
“You shouldn’t fucking be here,” he said the words he’d been saying since the moment he’d seen you. “If I lose you, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“Hey,” you pulled back slightly, taking his face in your hands forcing him to look at you. “You won’t lose me, okay? And, I won’t lose you. We’ll get through this together like we do everything else. I love you, Subong.”
There it was again. You telling him you loved him in that soft voice of yours. He rested his forehead against yours, opting to once again ignore what you’d said. His eyes fluttered shut, his lips ghosting over yours. All it would take was for him to press them against yours, closing the millimetre gap between your lips but no. He couldn’t do that to you. He would ruin you in every single way but, god, he really wanted to. Just once he wanted to know what it felt like, how your lips felt against his, how you tasted.
With a sigh, he pulled back, his hands resting on your hips for a second as he spoke with a shaky voice hidden behind false confidence. “I need to take a piss.”
He headed towards the bathroom, his lackey Nam-gyu trailing behind leaving you stood there. Of course he’d brush it off. He always did but there wasn’t anything you could do. Maybe one day he would listen to you. The sad thing was that you would wait forever for him to finally notice you. A sigh passed your lips as you made your way over to sit down on your bed. All you could do now was wait for him to come back, acting like you didn’t just almost kiss for the thousandth time.
After the first five minutes, you brushed it off. He was taking a piss, no big deal.
When fifteen minutes hit was when you started to worry. It didn’t take that long to have a leak. Where was he? Had he got himself into some trouble? Surely the guards would have put a stop to it.
It was at twenty-five minutes when the panic set in. You had got to your feet, pacing in frustration. Something must have happened. It didn’t feel right, everything about this felt off. Just as you were about to march towards the doors and demand to be let into the bathroom, Nam-gyu stepped through covered in blood. It was then you heard the familiar voice echo through the room.
Player 230 eliminated.
The room began to spin, your stomach threatening to throw up the dinner you’d eaten. No, no, this wasn’t real. Your hand had to grasp onto one of the poles on the bunk beds to keep you upright. Without even realising tears were falling down your face, a loud sob wracking your body. Your shoulders shook as you broke down.
He was gone. The love of your life, the person who had your heart was gone. You’d never see his face again, never see that perfect smile, never hear his laugh. You’d never be able to run your hands through his purple hair or hold him against you ever again. It felt like the world was ending because your world had just ended. What was the point without him? Your heart physically hurt. It felt like someone had ripped it apart, stomping on the pieces as it fell into your stomach.
Through your tears, you looked back up to Nam-gyu. In the haze of everything, you caught a glimpse of the familiar chain you knew all too well. Immediately you went towards him, snatching it from his hand. “That’s not yours,” you hissed through a sob. Before he even had time to react, you had walked away, clutching the cross tightly in your hand. You didn’t care about the blood staining your hands now, all you cared about was that you still had a piece of him.
An hour passed and all you’d done was cry so much that you’d given yourself a pounding headache on top of everything else. Gi-hun had come over at one point to try and console you but you could barely remember it. Ever since you’d heard the words ‘Player 230 eliminated’, nothing had made sense. Maybe Thanos had been onto something. Maybe the pills would help numb the pain. With shaky hands you pulled open the cross only for a small note to fall onto your lap.
You picked it up, unfolding it and instantly your eyes filled with fresh tears as you spotted the familiar handwriting.
My Senorita. I’m not good with words, never have been so sorry if this is a fucking mess. My life is a shitshow but you’ve been a constant ray of light, making my days a little brighter. I know how you feel about me and I’m sorry that I’ve never acknowledged it but I’m so fucking scared. You deserve the world but I can’t give you that. I’m fucked up. I’m no good for you but there’s a part of me that sometimes wants to be selfish. I fucking love you. Shit, I’m so in love with you. A better man would be able to wax poetic but all I can say is my heart is yours. Yours always, Subong.
A sad smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you clutched the note to your chest. He had been carrying this with him the whole time. He loved you. You weren’t sure if knowing that made it better or worse but for now it gave you the motivation to keep going. You’d do this for him now.
taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @justsisse @djarindroid @basquiat-top @urmomsg1rlfreind @belladonna-303 @seunghyunwifey
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ i'll come to you as the autumn rain
pairing: rafe x reader synopsis: your dead boyfriend pays you a visit. warnings/tags: angst, fluff wc: 1.5k a/n; inspired by a fic i posted on ao3 back in 2021.
rafe masterlist ♡

he was everywhere. in every sentence you spoke, in every tear you shed, in every day that passed by without him in your life. it didn't matter that it had been six months since he passed away because every day it felt like it was happening all over. every morning, there was a short moment when you didn't remember; but the moment you did, it was like you were reliving the moment you actually found out. collapsing onto your knees, pushing away everyone trying to come to your comfort. there was nothing to comfort you about because it just couldn't be true.
everyone knows that death is an inevitable part of life. nothing is certain but death and taxes. but what are you supposed to do when you actually have to face it; when you have to face that the future you'd spent the last four years planning with the man you loved is now impossible? that you'd never wake up next to him again, you'd never kiss him again, you'd never feel his hand in yours again? how are you supposed to react when you're going through his things, only to find an engagement ring with your anniversary and initials engraved in it?
every night, you see rafe in your dreams, lying in his coffin, eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest. he was wearing his favorite suit, and the moment you see him, it's like you're expecting him to just open his eyes and sit up. in your dreams, you'd try to shake him, to make him wake up, but he never does.
how cruel was it that your last time seeing him wasn't the same morning as his accident when he woke you up with his signature grin on his face as he pressed kisses on your chest, pulling you closer to him by your waist, but his lifeless body lying there in his coffin, surrounded by a crowd filled with other people grieving him?
how cruel was it that the last time you touched him wasn't when you gave him a kiss goodbye only a few hours before the accident accident, but when you cupped his cheek, his usually warm skin cold and still?
you were hunched over your desk once again, accompanied by the sound of rain pattering against your roof and music playing on your record player, your hand starting to ache as cursive words appeared on the paper; ever since rafe's funeral, a day hadn't gone by when you hadn't written him a letter. you knew your friends were worried; you barely left the apartment you used to share with the man you loved. you barely ate, barely slept.
sighing, you put your newest letter into an envelope, addressing it to rafe before throwing it into a box exuding with letters you'd written, all to the same person, never to be opened again. you got up and dragged your feet until you reached the bed and managed to collapse onto it. your eyelids were heavy and your surroundings were already getting blurry due to the tears acting to escape your body, the edges of your vision turning black from exhaustion until you finally gave in and pressed your eyes closed.
"c'mon, wake up, lazybones."
you were startled awake by the familiar deep voice mixed with the feeling of someone shaking your shoulder. you gasped and sat up in bed, looking around the room, and it was as if all the blood had been drained from your body when you turned to look at the spot next to you on the bed, that familiar grin illuminated by the bedside lamp on his side of the bed.
"you can't be here." you shook your head and backed away on the bed, your throat hurting from the tears you were holding back, but when you were trying to stumble out of bed and stand up, his strong hand wrapped itself around your wrist and tugged you back into bed.
"why can't i be here?" he chuckled softly.
"because you're dead, rafe."
rafe simply rolled his eyes, as if you were being dramatic over nothing. he shrugged his shoulders, moving his arms so they were crossed behind his head, "so? i can't come visit my girl?"
"this is a dream." you scoffed, pinching the inside of your elbow, the sound of a sharp intake of breath filling the room from how it stung. you looked to the other side of the bed, and rafe was still there, his brows raised in amusement. you sighed, lying back down on the bed. "fine, you're a hallucination."
"probably." rafe shrugged, bringing his hand to cup your cheek, "you haven't been eating or sleeping properly."
"you're a part of my subconscious. you know the reason for that." you swallowed the tears threatening to spill, turning your head so you were facing him; rafe's hand on your cheek was so warm, it felt just like any other time he'd done the exact same thing to you, your voice turning into a weak whisper, "i miss you so much it kills me."
rafe let out a small sigh, his lips lifting up only slightly into a sad smile, "i miss you too. so fucking much." his thumb stroked your cheek, and you couldn't help but close your eyes, leaning into his touch, "but your letters help."
"yeah?" you smiled wistfully, "you read them?"
"yeah." rafe let out a soft chuckle, "even the poems you write in them. fuck, you know i was never the sentimental type, but those make me emotional. it takes me a while to understand the cursive, but i manage."
you opened your eyes and looked into his blue ones, glassy with tears, "can i ask you something?" you asked and he nodded, a small smile appearing on his lips, "were you really gonna ask me to marry you?"
rafe looked down at the bedsheets momentarily, toying with a loose thread before taking in a deep breath, and looking back up at you, a wistful look on his face "yeah, i was." he chuckled bitterly, "i had it all planned out. i was gonna take you to greece, like i did for our first anniversary. i'd take you to the beach where we stargazed and ended up falling asleep, just holding each other. i was gonna bring a whole picnic and everything."
as you listened to him recount his proposal plan, you couldn't help the tears that slowly began to stream down your face, rafe's thumb darting out to wipe away every single one.
"i'm glad you kept this, you know." rafe said quietly, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, his hand moving to the chain around your neck that now held the engagement ring you'd found among his things, "i wish i could've put it on your finger, though."
"you can." you said weakly, pulling back slightly. your hands moved to the back of your neck, fiddling for a moment before you unclasped the necklace. you handed it to rafe, watching as he took the ring off the chain.
you gave him your left hand, and rafe slid the ring onto your ring finger, before bringing your hand to his lips, and pressing a soft kiss on the same finger. "fits perfectly. like i knew it would.
then he brought his lips to yours; making you close your eyes as you leaned into the kiss, his lips so warm and inviting, the kiss feeling just like it did the first time he kissed you, and every time after. rafe pulled away from the kiss a moment later, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he pulled you into his arms, whispering against the top of your head, "you should get some sleep." before placing a kiss at the crown of your head.
"i don't know how to live without you, rafe." you whispered, closing your eyes as you burrowed into his warm, muscular chest, flooded with memories of all the times you'd been in this position before, of all the times you fell asleep and woke up in rafe's arms, "you're gonna be gone when i wake up, aren't you?"
"yeah. but you won't have to live without me. even if you can't see me… i'll always be with you." rafe said quietly, stroking your hair.
no matter how much you tried to resist it, no matter how much you ached to stay there in his arms, you couldn't help the pull of sleep; rafe's comforting embrace had always managed to put you to sleep within minutes, along with all the exhaustion from the past months eager to catch up to you.
and when you woke up, you were right. rafe was nowhere to be seen. but when you looked down at your hand, the ring was still on your finger. and when you looked to rafe's side of the bed, not only were the sheets crumpled, but there was a note on his nightstand. you reached out for it, your heart clenching in your chest when you read the words written in a familiar, messy handwriting.
'i'll always be with you. i love you. -r'
#꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ rafe#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#drew starkey#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron obx#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe fluff#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic#rafe x reader#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#outer banks fic#outer banks fluff#outer banks fanfiction
269 notes
·
View notes
Text
Green Light, Red Flag
♡ masterlist - request
♡ pairing - max verstappen x fem!reader
♡ summary - max likes you, but it takes the strong feeling of jealousy to admit it
♡ warnings - jealous max, angry-ish love confession, fluff
♡ w/c & a/n - 1.1k | du du du du
"To Super Max!"
The cheer echoes through the private room of the Monaco nightclub as champagne flows freely. Another win, another celebration, and you can't help but smile as you watch Max try (and fail) to dodge the shower of bubbles from his teammates.
"Honestly, you'd think they'd be tired of spraying champagne after the podium," you mutter to your friend, Hannah, who's watching the chaos with amusement.
"Bold of you to assume they ever get tired of it," she laughs.
You've been part of the Red Bull team's PR department long enough to know she's right. Your eyes drift back to Max, who's now arguing with Checo about something, gesturing wildly with his hands the way he does when he's excited. His face is flushed from the champagne and victory, hair still messed up from his helmet, and you ignore the familiar flutter in your stomach when he catches your eye across the room.
"Oi!" He calls out, making his way over. "Why aren't you celebrating properly?"
You raise your barely-touched glass. "Some of us have to work tomorrow, Verstappen."
"Tomorrow's problem," he says, dropping into the seat next to you. His shoulder brushes yours, and you pretend not to notice. "Today we celebrate."
"You mean you celebrate. I just watch you lot make fools of yourselves."
He clutches his chest in mock offense. "I'm wounded. Here I am, trying to include you in my moment of glory—"
"Your fifteenth moment of glory this season," you correct.
"—and you're just standing here judging me." But he's grinning, that competitive spark in his eyes that you've come to know so well.
"Someone has to keep your ego in check."
"That's what I keep you around for," he says, and something in his tone makes you look at him sharply, but he's already being called away by Christian for photos.
You watch him go, trying to ignore Hannah's knowing look. "Don't start," you warn her.
"I didn't say anything!"
"You were thinking it very loudly."
The night progresses in a blur of music and laughter. You're in the middle of a conversation with GP when you feel someone tap your shoulder.
"Excuse me," says a voice you don't recognize. You turn to find a rather handsome man in an expensive suit. "I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. I'm James."
"Oh, um, hi," you manage, caught off guard by his forward approach.
"I'm with the Mercedes hospitality team," he continues smoothly. "Would you like to dance?"
Before you can respond, you feel a presence behind you – familiar, solid, radiating tension.
"She's busy," Max says flatly.
James raises an eyebrow. "I believe the lady can speak for herself?"
You turn to give Max an exasperated look, but the words die in your throat. You've seen every version of his competitive face – the focused pre-race stare, the triumphant victory grin, the frustrated post-DNF scowl. But this? This is new. His jaw is set, eyes dark with something that looks suspiciously like jealousy.
"Max," you say carefully, "I can handle this."
"Can you?" he snaps, then immediately looks like he regrets it.
James glances between you two, understanding dawning on his face. "Ah, I see. My apologies, I didn't realize—"
"There's nothing to realize," you say quickly, at the same time Max growls, "Yeah, you should apologize."
"I'm just going to..." James gestures vaguely and makes a tactical retreat that would make Toto proud.
You round on Max. "What the hell was that?"
"What was what?" He's doing that thing where he pretends to be completely oblivious, which might work on journalists but has never worked on you.
"That whole caveman routine! Since when do you care who I dance with?"
"I don't," he says, but he won't meet your eyes. "I just... don't trust that guy."
"Right, because clearly I can't make that judgment for myself?"
"That's not what I—" He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. "Can we not do this here?"
You glance around, suddenly aware that several people are trying very hard to pretend they're not watching this exchange. "Fine. Outside. Now."
The Monaco night air is cool against your skin as you step onto the club's terrace. The city glitters below, the same streets Max was racing through just hours ago. He's standing at the railing, knuckles white where he grips it.
"Max," you say softly, "what's really going on?"
He's quiet for so long you think he might not answer. Then: "I don't like seeing you with other guys."
Your heart stutters. "Why?"
"Because!" He turns to face you, and there's that intensity again, the one that makes him such a force on track. "Because every time some guy looks at you like that, I want to... I don't know. Put up a safety car or something."
A laugh bubbles up despite yourself. "Did you just make a racing analogy about your feelings?"
"Shut up," but there's a smile tugging at his lips. "I'm trying to be serious here."
"Sorry, sorry." You step closer. "Please, continue with your vehicular emotions."
He groans. "This is why I never said anything. You make everything into a joke."
"Says the king of deflection." You're close enough now to see the flecks of gold in his eyes. "But if you're being serious... I don't like seeing you with other people either."
His breath catches. "No?"
"No." You reach up to straighten his collar, letting your hand linger. "Kind of ruins my plans to eventually marry you and steal all your trophies."
The tension breaks as he laughs, real and warm, his hands finding your waist. "That's your master plan? Bit obvious, isn't it?"
"Well, I was going to be subtle about it, but then you had to go and get all jealous and dramatic—"
He cuts you off with a kiss, and oh – this is nothing like the Max the world sees. This is soft and sweet and just a little desperate, like he's been holding back for as long as you have. You melt into it, fingers curling into his shirt.
When you break apart, he rests his forehead against yours. "Just so we're clear," he murmurs, "this means you're not dancing with anyone else tonight."
"Possessive much?"
"You like it."
"Maybe." You steal another quick kiss. "But only because you're cute when you're jealous."
"I wasn't jealous," he protests automatically.
"Sure, and you also 'don't care' about breaking Seb's record."
He pinches your side playfully. "You're impossible."
"Yeah," you agree, sliding your arms around his neck. "But I'm your impossible."
His smile – soft and real and just for you – is better than any podium celebration. "Deal."
When you eventually return to the party, hand in hand, no one looks surprised. Checo hands Hannah what looks suspiciously like betting money, GP just rolls his eyes fondly, and Christian mutters something that sounds like "finally" into his drink.
Max doesn't leave your side for the rest of the night, and if he holds you a little closer when James walks past, well – you're not complaining. After all, some victories are worth celebrating more than others.
#ria writes 🦢#max verstappen x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1#max verstappen#max verstappen oneshot#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max vertsappen fic#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x fem!reader#max verstappen fluff#australia grand prix#melbourne gp 2025#max verstappen x female reader#red bull racing#x reader#Red Bull x reader#f1 imagine#australian gp 2025#mv1#mv1 x reader#mv33#mv33 x reader#mv1 fic#mv1 imagine
282 notes
·
View notes
Text
I got into the void for the first time, in my first try!!
So, I'm fairly new to loa, and I learned about the void state here on Tumblr just a few days ago. When I read a post about what it was and how to get into it, I immediately thought "this is going to be so easy to me," because I have lucid dreams and idk, I just knew it was going to be easy for me, and I truly believed that, I had no doubts.
Yesterday I wanted to try. I lay down, started to take deep and slow breaths, and kept repeating, "I am in the void". Not long after my entire body started to go numb and my "vision" (not vision bc my eyes were closed, but I'm not sure how to describe) went pitch black, like more black than being with your eyes closed in a dark room.
It was like I was falling into darkness, but I was also floating. Then I realised I was in the void.
Right after realising that I actually started to lose it, and started to spiral bc I was scared I was gone get out of the void.
My eyelids were so heavy and I couldn't really move my body. I do think I could if I tried, but it would need a lot more effort than usual. So I used that sensation to tell myself I was still there, I just need to relax.
So regained control, calmed myself down and repeated "I am in the void".
When I knew I was full in (you just know tbh) I was like "okay, time to manifest". But, being honest, I was kinda all over the place with what I was saying, so I wasn't confident. I was "okay I want manifest this, but no wait, maybe this, no I wanna say it like this".
Next time I'm in there, I wanna work on my self-concept first and take my limiting beliefs.
After getting out of the void, I went to sleep and had a lucid dream, which I hadn't had one in such a long time.
Not gonna go in detail about my dream bc I don't think is important, but I was married and I felt like my husband wasn't caring and loving with me, but I went "wait, I can change that with loa". So it was really fun, bc even if it was a dream I was still so conscious about loa and my power.
But like I said, it was my first time, I'm gonna read more about it and what exactly to do to take more advantage of the void. (I accept tips btw)
Just wanna say a huge thanks to @ruloaapaul. Your posts were the reason why I found out about the void, how to get in, and the motivation to try it. Thank you!!
#law of assumption#loassblog#affirm and persist#affirm and manifest 🫧 🎀✨ ִִֶָ ٠˟#loassumption#manifesting#loa blog#loa tumblr#loablr#void#the void state#voidblr#the void#void state#voidstate#loa success
201 notes
·
View notes
Text
“ INVISIBLE STRING. ” ( lando norris ! )
SUMMARY: the reader reminisces about her deep, enduring love with lando through an old photo album.
word count: 1k
warnings: no use of y/n, a lot of taylor swift references, mentions god (just in case someone is an atheist)
pairing: husband!lando norris x wife!reader
a/n: a little fun fact, this was my school work back in 2023 since my religion teacher told us to create a fanfic, but instead of leaving it in my google docs, i decided to make some little changes and post it for funsies. anyways, enjoy !!!




IT WAS MIDNIGHT. A hint of salt lingered in the air, carried by the cold, gloomy breeze as gray clouds washed over Monaco in the month of August. The city was silent, the neighbors deep in slumber, and the rhythmic chirping of crickets was the only sound accompanying the dim glow of the streetlights. It felt as if the whole world was asleep—except for her.
She could not sleep while her husband, Lando, peacefully snored beside her. She lay and watched her husband as he slowly breathed with his eyes closed. She looked at him in awe as she saw the soft, relaxed look on his face. She slightly brushed the hair on her husband’s face. She smiled faintly. It’s been a long time since she's seen the peaceful look on his face. She knew that Lando had been quite stressed these past few weeks due to his work, which had been greatly affecting her. She was trying really hard to understand her husband. To clear her thoughts, she decided to go downstairs to pass the time, hoping that it would make her sleepy.
She carefully removed the duvet to avoid disturbing her husband’s slumber. She placed her feet on the cold tile floor and shivered at the feeling. She walked toward the closet to wear a jacket that Lando owned. Cold nights were unbearable, but at least they gave her an excuse to wrap herself in something that smelled like him. The familiar scent of Dior Sauvage mixed with his natural musk filled her lungs, bringing a faint smile to her lips. The jacket was enough to keep her warm. She tilted the doorknob, looking back at her husband to get a glimpse of his sleeping frame before walking out of the bedroom and going downstairs.
Rubbing her tired face, she finally made it downstairs. She walked around the house, seeing all the picture frames from years ago with Lando—there was one with a photo that was taken on Lando's first grand prix win in Miami. They looked so in love and carefree, celebrating his triumph with pure, unfiltered joy. Looking away from the photo frames, she then stumbled upon a bookshelf full of photo albums and books. She playfully brushed her hand along the spines of the photo albums, one by one, at the ends of her fingers, and decided to choose one out of several photo albums.
It was a familiar brown leather-bound photo album. It is old and bleached; it looks like it hasn’t been touched in many years. She slowly grazed her hand along the vintage and stained photo album, seeing how it left traces of her marks because of the thick dust that covered the entirety of the book. She then opened the photo album, and she smiled at the sight.
It was her favorite photo album. It was filled with photos of her in her childhood, like growing up with her parents, in the field of her favorite flowers, pictures with the other drivers, and birthday photos. There were also many pictures of her and Lando during their teen years: Lando teaching her how to drive a car, her wearing Lando’s helmets, and more.
As she was flipping through the pages of the photo album, one photo slipped out. She looked down, confused, at the photo that had just fallen; she couldn’t remember the time when she placed a photo between the pages of the photo album, and it had also been a long time since she had opened this photo album. She bent down and flipped the photo. It was a picture of her and Lando’s wedding. She reminisced at the moment.
She couldn't believe how young they looked and how much time had passed. She smiled as she remembered that day like it was yesterday. The sun was shining, and the birds were chirping. She could still feel the warmth of Lando’s hand in hers as they exchanged their vows. She observed how happy they were. Lando was carrying her in princess style. The veil was falling over her head; there was cake frosting on Lando's face. Their eyes are both gleaming with happiness; they are both smiling and laughing candidly, and everything looks positive.
She suddenly remembered the time when they exchanged laughter, how they kissed in town and downtown bars, how they drunkenly danced under the street lights in the middle of the night, and how he lingered around her like a tattoo kiss. Despite Lando's wrongs and mistakes he made in the past, she believed and still saw the best in him. He managed to tend to all of her wounds. Lando drew stars around her scars, kissing every single scar on her body and making her feel loved.
She remembered the man she loved through their wedding photo. The best and happiest day of her life. The day that changed her whole life, wherein they became two souls in one. She remembered how she could feel her heart racing when she looked at him at the end of the aisle; she saw the same soft look and vulnerability he had on his face earlier. She could smell the flowers from the bouquet. The soft piano is playing in the background. She remembered how they vowed everlasting love and to always cherish each other, surviving through thick and thin, for better or worse the situation, they will always have each other no matter what it takes until death does them part. She could feel the love and excitement radiating from both of them as they exchanged their vows.
Tears started building up in her eyes, thinking about how her marriage with Lando transformed them into the better and stronger people they are now. She felt grateful for her life and for the love she shared with Lando. She knew that they had something special. That night, she went to bed with a smile on her face, feeling grateful for the memories and the love that she and Lando shared. She knew that they had come a long way, but she also knew that their love would continue to grow stronger with each passing day.
After twenty years of marriage, she thought about how she was one lucky woman, having been able to bind her soul with her first love. It feels like God purposely let a single thread of gold tie her to him. An invisible string.

#lando norris x reader#f1 fanfiction#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#lando x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#lando norris#lando norris fluff#lando norris smut#lando norris x you#ln4#mclaren#mclaren f1#lando norris fic#lando norris one shot#lando x you#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#juniper.fluff#slutforvoldy.fluff
181 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rivers
B. Barnes x f! Reader
Bucky beard appreciation post. Cunnilingus + face sitting, squirting, and beard wetting ( AGAIN!!! ill write Cunnilingus Bucky fics until the day I DIE ) not beta read, kinda lazy writing ( I was half asleep writing this. I fell asleep twice. )
Wrote this very short drabble because I couldn't sleep and am experiencing awful mittelschmerz, and apparently, now I write Bucky smut whenever I'm in pain. Goodnight.
[ My Marvel request box is open again. Please see my pinned post for request rules. ]
Mdni!! I am not responsible for what you find on the internet.

He's outgrowing his facial hair again.
It scratches against the inside of your thighs and your dripping, sweet cunt as you sit upon his face. He'd had you like that for hours and would keep you like that for many more if you'd let him.
Plump thighs open, knees braced by the sides of his face and all as his tongue works fucking magic on you. He closed his mouth, building up saliva in his tongue before it goes back on your sensitive little center. Your hips jerk against his face, lifting up from your perfect spot in him slightly, loosing the pressure the both of you needed.
" nuh-uh. Back on my face. " His large hands direct your hips back onto his handsome face. " Yeah, jus' like that, sweetie. Good girl. " His words vibrate against your core, making you shiver. His hold on you is so harsh that you're certain it'll bruise. But you're okay with that.
Each time his perfect, skilled tongue hauls around your folds, it's like a brand new feeling and it makes you crazy. You're sitting above him, thighs shaking around his head and your throat hoarse from all the moans and screams he inflicted out of you that night.
His tongue flicks up and down your little clit, making more soft whimpers escape your lips. He kisses down to your plush entrance, his nose lightly pressing against your over-sensitive flesh. He goes back up, his lips closing in around your soft bundle of nerves, pecking it a few times before he let his tongue take over.
His vibranium hand reached up, taking your breast within his palm, massaging it softly before he tweaked your nipples between his prosthetic, cold fingers.
You were seeing stars.
And he was loving the view.
" beautiful, you look like.... " he spoke against your cunt, giving it a few gentle licks before continuing, " you look like a fucking mess. Is this good for you? "
You choked on a moan, your eyes fluttered shut. Your hips shook on his face, rocking against it slightly. He hummed in amusement.
" Y-yeah. Feels s-so--ooo-ah.. good, Bucky." You barley managed, too fucked out of your mind to proper a former sentence or even think about anything else in that moment other than how good he felt. He chuckled darkly, the sound making your cunt flutter around his face.
" oh, I know. " His tone was cocky and overconfident as he licked up your dripping cunt. You were getting wetter by the second. " Jus' wanted to hear you say it. "
His palm goes against your ass, smacking it, letting the noise bounce off the halls of the room along with the loud, lewd--almost squelching sound of his tongue dancing on your pussy. It's like a fucking porn film.
And your moans are getting more desperate, loud and whiney. As he gives your little pussy butterfly kisses, your practically falling apart in his arms. His name leaves your mouth, repeatedly, almost like a god damn prayer and encourages him to redoubled his efforts.
" Gonna come soon, gorgeous? " He asks, though he knows he doesn't even need to. Your little cunt tells him everything you don't. Every jolt or squeeze it makes hushes every secret you have into his ear. You truly are an open book.
And all you can do it bite your finger, drooling down it, whimpering and moaning softly.
All until you finally do reach the orgasm you so badly needed to finish off your night.
He doesn't even have time to react before you come flooding down his face. It's a very intense climax; the kind that makes your entire body jerk and shake. Your stomach heaves heavily as you look down to see your perfect lover practically drowning in all the love you had to give him.
" Fuck.. yes..! " he groans, holding you down onto his face as he laps up every last drop like it's his last meal. " So, so good for me. " He praises, running his hands down your thighs at he licks you up.
And your cum gets everywhere on him.
It drips down his chin, onto his neck and absolutely soaks his beard. Everything only gets wetter as he cleans you off.
#marvel#marvel smut#mcu smut#mcu#marvel mcu#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes#james barnes
148 notes
·
View notes
Text
while anticipating le sserafim's new single and working on my upcoming follow-up to my gr63 two-shot, this post about sakura came up on my feed this past week and i haven't stopped thinking about it since 🙆♀️
premise: you're pop's main it-girl and at a recent meet & greet during your world tour, one of your biggest fans gifts you a crazy expensive ring while posing a single request to you:
"please do not marry anyone who dares to propose to you with a ring cheaper than this!"
while this amuses you to no end, your f1 driver boyfriend doesn't find take this lightly.
features: lewis, carlos, george, fernando, charles
Lewis
"What's that you got there, love?"
There was a distraction that Lewis just couldn't ignore anymore. Though he was all tender smiles and lovestruck eyes while gazing fondly at you through his phone screen as he waited for his first class flight to take off, the shining glimmer off of your finger set off his curiosity.
Your giggled explanation, however, only sparked and stirred the flames of fierce determination within his soul.
"Quite the request, huh? Fans these days." He chuckled in response with the shake of his head.
It wasn't long until it was time for his flight to depart and for the both of you to say your goodbyes.
"I'll be seeing you in a bit, lovely. Can't wait to have you in my arms again," he remarked with a wink.
As soon as your call ended, he then proceeded to switch over to his text messages, finding his recent conversation with his Cartier rep from a few days ago before quickly tapping out:
add another diamond on it please thank you
Carlos
"...huh?"
Kicking off the covers and rubbing the grogginess out of his sleepy gaze, Carlos squinted hard at his phone screen as he stared at pictures from one of your most well-known fan account pages.
What started off as a calm browse through his social media feed turned into a spike of raw adrenaline as he saw a myriad of photos showing your overjoyed expression while you flashed your brand new ring at the camera.
While undisclosed to even you, he liked following some of your fan accounts since they usually featured some gorgeous candid photos of you--visuals he constantly sought to see, especially while he was abroad for races.
Now, however, seeing that the admin of this very account was the one to gift you this ring with the insistence that you do not settle for anyone unworthy, he let out a huff while his eyes shifted over to his bedside table, where his Richard Mille watch lay.
His gaze returned to the photo on his phone screen, making note of your bare fingers.
He was certain he could guess the size of each one, much like he was just as determined to get you enough rings to exceed the cost of his watch.
George
"Oh bugger..."
Hopping onto Twitter and seeing an ungodly amount of mentions made to his account incited a sense of foreboding dread within George.
However, realizing that the profiles of these tags all mostly featured pictures of you, his apprehension turned to cautious curiosity. With all the countless posts, it was impossible to sort through them all, yet there was one tweet that encapsulated what the sudden fervor from your fanbase was all about:
cant believe the george russell subplot this season is having to go band for band with his gf's fanbase 😭😭😭😭
Instinct had him wanting to ask the likes of Alex and Lando exactly what "band for band" meant, but with a mere scroll down his mentions, pictures of your preciously awed expression while holding up an incredibly ornate ring from a fan explained everything he needed to know.
Pressing a hand over his racing heart, he sighed with utter relief.
Nothing too crazy both for his sake and yours, just an extreme expression of fan adoration to you.
Cute.
But what won't be cute would be the absolute behemoth of a diamond that he would make damn sure will be sitting prettily on top of your engagement ring.
Fernando
"She was given what?"
By this point, Fernando had been posed all sorts of outrageous, off-topic questions during press interviews leading up to the race, but this one--above all--felt the most annoying to hear.
While he knew the reporter was just merely doing his job as he elaborated on details from your recent concert, there was something bothersome about some random stranger essentially challenging him in his own relationship with you.
Still, with years and years of PR experience, he pursed his lips slightly in thought with a nod. "...Ahh I see."
With a small lift of his shoulders, a chuckle soon escaped him as he concluded with, "Well, what's not to love about her, no?"
Though the reporter tried to have him delve deeper on his response, Fernando was already shifting focus back to the recent race, a calm smile on his features even while his competitive spirit was already set ablaze to an uncontainable inferno.
This was a matter where frugality had to be damned. Like hell he was going to be outdone by one of your fans.
You were gonna come home from tour to a brand new ring quadruple the price!
Charles
Charles had no words just say, just a sorrowful melody to play.
Within the dimly lit shadows of his exquisite piano room, his fingers took the anguish in his heart to the ivories of his instrument.
A glimpse at social media, the bashful smile on your face, the sparkling ring on your finger--it was just too much. Without delving further, he took off to the depths of his magnificent mansion where he had since holed himself up within the comforts of his piano room to console his heartbreak, wondering how he was to go on with his relationship with you now in disarray.
But when his wrist started to cramp from continuous play, he was on his phone once more, reluctantly going through social media to see just who in the hell proposed to you--
He blinked at his screen.
A fan merely gifted the ring to you, asking that only someone worthy and wealthy take your hand in marriage in the future.
His hand suddenly came to rest against his forehead as he started to laugh at himself.
Cackle even.
"I'm so stupid," he sighed out loud with a grin, relief washing over his features as he stood up and proceeded to finally exit his piano room.
While texting his affection to you over yet another brilliant concert successfully held some countries away, he was already making plans as to which jewelry stores in Monte Carlo he would pay visit to today.
#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x you#fernando alonso x you#fernando alonso x reader#george russell x reader#george russell x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula one x reader#formula one x you#f1 imagine#reader insert
152 notes
·
View notes
Text
this is me trying
tw: disordered eating
word count: 2k
You stared in the mirror, your shirt littering the floor. You stared at your ribs poking through your skin. Your cheeks were sunken in. Billie had been gone on tour for three months and she was finally back in LA. Your hands were shaking and you didn’t know how you were going to explain the dramatic drop in size to her. But you just couldn’t take it anymore.
Her fans were ruthless. They picked everything about you apart. Your hair color, your eye color, the clothes you wore. But the one thing that killed you the most was your weight. Every paparazzi photo that leaked. Every photo you would post. They would always point it out. The extra skin on your stomach. The small amount of fat on your thighs. It broke your heart every single time. But you never told Billie. She didn't need to know about it. She had finally been able to ignore the mean words that were always spread about her and you didn’t want to burden her with yours. You were a big girl and you could handle it on your own.
The sound of your phone ringing made you jump. You quickly put your shirt back on, racing over to your phone. It was Billie. You quickly answered it, taking a deep breath.
“Hello?”
“Hi, baby! Ugh I’m so happy to hear your voice. You still coming to the show tonight?” Billie’s voice was full of excitement and a hint of nervousness.
You smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Of course I’m still coming to the show. I have to support my girl.”
“I can’t wait to see you,” Billie said. You could hear the smile on her face.
You smiled softly. “I can’t wait to see you either.”
You could hear Billie yelling at someone. Her words were muffled so you couldn't quite make out what she was saying. “I’m sorry, babe, I have to get back to rehearsal but I’ll see you before the show, okay?”
You silently breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, love. I’ll see you later.”
“I love you,” Billie said seriously.
“I love you too,” you said before hanging up.
You let out a sigh, laying down on your bed and staring up at the ceiling. Your stomach rumbles but you ignore it. You don’t remember the last time you had an actual meal that wasn’t just a couple random fruits or vegetables. You pick your phone back up, looking at the time. You curse to yourself, knowing that you need to get ready. You do your makeup first, throwing on your usual day-to-day look. You straighten your hair, hoping that it will cover some of the sunkenness of your cheeks. You walk into the closet, staring at the clothes. You sigh, running a hand through your hair. You shake your head, pulling on your black jeans and one of Billie’s oversized hoodies. You pull on your black Converse, tying them tightly. You slip on your rings and bracelets, fidgeting with them until they’re all in the right places. You grab your bag, taking a deep breath before you walk out the door to your car.
You climb into your car, shutting the door behind you. You buckle yourself up, trying to ignore the gnawing in your stomach. Your anxiety is through the roof and you’re doing your best to ignore it. You plug your phone in, turning on Sabrina Carpenter’s album, Short ‘n Sweet. The familiar songs comfort you but it doesn’t make the anxiety dissipate. As you sit at almost every red light in town, you can’t help but fidget with your hands. It was a nervous tic you picked up when you were a kid and it just never went away. Billie would always scold you for it, telling you that your hands were too pretty to be picked at. The dread in your stomach kept growing as you got closer to the venue and your hands wouldn't stop shaking.
You pulled up to the venue, your stomach churning. You handed the security guard your ID and in exchange received your All Access badge. You parked your car next to Billie’s, the feeling of finality in the air. You knew she would notice. There was no way for you to hide this anymore. You feel tears well up in your eyes and you quickly wipe them away with the sleeve of Billie’s hoodie. You take a deep breath, grabbing your bag and getting out of the car. You shut the door behind you, locking it as well. You hear screaming above you. You look up, seeing a bunch of Billie’s fans pointing and taking pictures. You put a fake smile on your face, waving to some of them and practically running inside. By the time you’re indoors, your phone is blowing up. Pictures of you heading into the venue are flying across social media and some are pointing out your dramatic weight loss. You said a silent prayer that Billie hadn’t seen anything yet.
You head down the long concrete hall, fidgeting with your hands and taking deep breaths. You spot Maggie outside of Billie’s dressing room. She sends you a wave and you smile, practically running into her arms.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Maggie says, holding you tightly.
“Hi, Maggie,” you sigh, feeling comforted by her familiar arms. You already know that she can feel how small you are, but she doesn’t bring it up.
She pulls away, holding you by your shoulders. “Did you get here okay?”
You nod. “Yeah it was fine. Traffic wasn’t too bad.”
Maggie smiles, “Well I won’t keep you out here. She’s been practically climbing the walls all day waiting for you to get here.”
“Seriously?” You laugh.
Maggie nods, opening the door for you.
Billie’s dressing room is large and she has music playing. She’s doing her makeup, not hearing the door open. You smile, your eyes welling up with tears. You haven’t seen her in months and you missed her so much. But you were so scared that she was going to freak out when she saw you. You sneak up next to her, thankful that she doesn’t notice you. You tap her lightly on the shoulder, your hands covered by the sleeve of her hoodie. She jumps, confused as to who’s touching her. She looks up, seeing you. She lets out a scream, pulling you down on to her lap and holding you close. You bury your face in her neck, a few tears escaping your eyes.
“I’m so happy you’re here, baby. I’ve missed you so fucking much,” Billie mumbles, her arms not letting go of you.
“I missed you too,” you sniffle. You feel Billie tense up under you, and you curse to yourself.
Billie pulls away, looking at you. Her eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. Your hands are shaking as she cups your face in her hands, observing you. She stares at your sunken cheeks. She slides her hands down your sides, feeling your ribs poke her as she touches you. She looks up at you, her eyes wide. “Baby.”
Your voice is barely above a whisper. “What?”
“What the hell happened to you?” she asks, tears in her eyes.
It’s no use trying to deny it. She can see you and feel you. You shake your head, trying to ignore her questioning.
“You cannot lie to me right now,” she says, her tone harsh.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, tears filling your eyes.
Billie pulls you close, holding you tightly. “Baby, what happened? I need you to talk to me.”
Her gentle words cause the dam to burst. You bury your face in her chest, sobbing. “I’m sorry, Billie. But they’re just so fucking mean to me. I couldn’t take it anymore. I know I’m not enough for you and that I’m nothing compared to you. But they pick me apart in every way that they can and it hurts. I thought that if I just stopped eating it would change but it won’t. They just won’t stop.”
“Baby, you need to slow down. Who’s hurting you?” Billie asks, stroking your hair.
You don’t say anything, just pulling out your phone and opening Twitter. She scrolls through the countless tweets, her eyes filling with anger. You wipe away your tears, fidgeting with your hands. After a few minutes, Billie sighs, shutting your phone off and putting it on the table.
“Baby, I need you to look at me,” Billie says, pulling your hands into hers. “They’re wrong. They’re just jealous that I would never pick them. You’re my everything. You’re perfect to me. You do not need to change anything about yourself for me. I want you just the way you are.”
You sniffle, trying to keep yourself calm. Her words break your heart. Your hands shake in hers. “Billie, I’m sorry. I should have just talked to you. But I didn’t want to burden you with this. I thought I could handle it.”
Billie shakes her head, pulling you close again. “You don’t need to apologize. But you’re right, you should have just talked to me. I love you so much and I don’t want anything about you to change because of what some nobody says.”
You nod, fidgeting with your hands again. Billie pulls your hands away, holding them tightly. Your stomach rumbles and you both can’t help but laugh. Billie shakes her head, holding you closely. Maggie knocks on the door, opening it slowly.
“Mom, we’re both clothed, you can come in,” Billie laughs.
Maggie rolls her eyes, opening the door fully. “I’m going to run and get some food. Do you girls want anything?”
You look down at Billie, a small glint of fear in your eyes. “Actually, yes. Can you get us some Caesar Salad Wraps?” Billie asks, running her thumb across the top of your hand.
“You got it. I’ll be back in a little bit,” Maggie says, shutting the door behind her.
“Hey. I know you’re scared, but it’s going to be okay. I’ll be right here with you. You can take it slow, okay?” Billie says, holding your hand in hers.
You nod, taking a deep breath. Billie smiles up at you. She cups your face in her hands, brushing her thumb against your cheek. Your eyes flick between her lips and her eyes, causing Billie to laugh. She shakes her head, slowly leaning in and pressing her lips against yours. You let out a soft sigh, relaxing into her kiss. You feel Billie smile against your lips, causing you to giggle.
After a little while, Maggie comes back with food. You and Billie share a glance as she places a wrap down in front of you. Billie gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and you take a bite. It’s the first real meal you’ve had in months, and you let out a soft sigh as you chew. You eat slowly, making sure you don’t make yourself sick. Slowly but surely, you eat the entire wrap, earning a proud smile from Billie. Time flies by quickly, and soon enough you’re helping Billie rush to finish her makeup. She presses a final kiss to your lips, smiling. “I’ll see you after the show, okay?”
You smile, nodding. You follow Maggie out into the pit, standing in the back. You smile while you watch Billie perform, knowing she’s going harder for you. She steals glances at you during every song, making some fans look over at you and whisper. You shake your head, finally ignoring their words and comments about you. You and Maggie sing along, watching Billie throughout the entire night. Every time Billie looks over at you, you’re smiling. She’s so happy to see that you’re so happy and carefree.
After the show, you drive home with Billie, letting Maggie take your car. Billie drives, holding your hand the entire time. She rubs her thumb along your skin, sending shivers down your spine. When you finally arrive at the house, Billie flops down on the bed, causing you to giggle. You curl up next to her, relaxing into her embrace.
Billie looks down at you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you.”
You smile, looking up at her. “I love you too.”
123 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wow. I was not expecting the massive response this post got, but thank you to everyone who's been filling out this poll and/or commenting on it! I feel like maybe I should give some clarification or context?
I posted this poll because my spouse thinks the above arrangement is reasonable and their prerogative. They feel that what is theirs is theirs, and they don't have to share it with their spouse, and wouldn't expect me to share what's mine with them if the tables were turned. I deliberately avoided using language in the poll that made any of the responses leading, because I didn't want to influence the results. When my spouse and I have arguments about how few of my basic needs they meet, and how vulnerable I feel, they tend to dig their heels in and insist that defining what a partnership looks like is up to the individuals and it's ok to deviate from the norm (which I agree with in principle, but only if both parties agree to the arrangements and can do so freely, not through coercion), and sometimes I genuinely feel like I'm crazy for thinking that there's a basic standard we get to expect from each other mutually, not in this one-sided way, and that my partner is being being both neglectful and controlling at the same time. I posted this poll because even when my spouse makes me feel like I'm being unreasonable, I know in my gut I'm not (not least of all because we very much did talk about our expectations of each other in both the best and worst potential situations, and what they promised me is not what I'm living now).
To see how many people have responded by straightforwardly calling this financial abuse, and to see how few people see this as normal, is validating to say the least. I've begun the process of building myself a life raft out of this situation, and I think I needed to see this feedback - so many strangers responding to what I hope is as neutral a summary of the situation as I intended it to be, and still calling it like I see it.
What I didn't put in the above poll is the even crazier stuff: A few years ago I ended contact with my abusive family, and my spouse promised to take care of me. Not long after they stopped giving me emotional support and asked me to seek it from my friends instead of them. When my computer, my main work tool, suddenly stopped working, they would only help me pay for a new one if I paid them back for it (they put me on a payment plan, but it was better than a bank loan because there was no interest and they let late payments slide). I also contracted a serious chronic illness because my partner was careless and ignored my existing health issues which made me vulnerable, and they failed to take care of me to the point I wasn't even eating properly while in bed with a fever, and for months after. Any support they gave was won at the cost of arguments I didn't have energy for, and reluctantly, but to friends and family my partner presented themselves as a caretaker.
I've struggled to work steadily and most of my limited income went to repaying the cost of my computer, so I depleted any savings I had left after the pandemic. As a result I sometimes couldn't even afford basics like toiletries or even clothes (I once showed up half an hour late to a doctor's appointment because the zipper on my only jeans broke and I had to wear a skirt in the freezing cold), and my partner, while expressing sympathy verbally, didn't take any action to offer tangible support, ie. buying me a new pair of jeans. I didn't have my family to rely on for safety and support. Anything I want or need, whether it's a necessity or something like a trip to visit family or friends who all live far away, I have to meet my partner's parameters since they're the one footing the bill. It took many arguments and detailed explanations of my difficulties and expectations before they would give me basic support like a one-off clothing purchase, and even more negotiation for it to be given in a way that allowed me autonomy in decision making (ie. they handed me a limited budget instead of going shopping with me or asking me to run purchases by them first).
I've given my partner a lot of leeway because they're struggling with several simultaneous neurodiversities and they tend to be passive observers in most situations, rather than active participants. I can see the ways in which they struggle to understand my experience because of their NDs. It has also been several years now since their diagnosis, and they use their ND as an excuse, but won't seek support for it. I have to do the emotional heavy lifting for us both, and if my expectations of them feel reasonable to me, it doesn't matter because if it's outside of their comfort zone, even the simplest things become contentious and they get the final say, since they're the only one in the relationship who have financial independence right now. I have no access to, nor do I get updated on, any of their bank accounts or savings (worrying in case of an emergency), except for a debit card which has a set amount on it at any given time and is only for groceries and recurring bills.
My spouse will give me information on their financial standing occasionally if I ask, but they are very hesitant and reluctant. I have a bank account of my own, and my spouse has asked to see my monthly earnings for the purpose of understanding my needs, but I'm hesitant to show them because of how much of my trust they've compromised, and how private they've always been about their financials (not to mention that it indicates they don't trust me to state my needs reasonably and reliably). I believe that everyone in a marriage should have at least one personal bank account, but our finances aren't shared at all, save for the one shared groceries/bills account. That account does, however, include medical costs, and as long as my spouse approves the spending, I can use it for things like amenities.
I don't know if I will show my partner this poll, but it's really good to have in case I would like to. It shows what I've been saying to them for a very long time, which is that my expectations are based in widely socially accepted ones that most people are aware of, and while I want to respect that my partner's ND may preclude them from having understood this, I also feel it's reasonable to ask that they accept that I'm not unreasonable in having these expectations (especially since they had justified this with commitments they made when we got married and have since broken).
379 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝙳𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚜 | 𝙲𝙻𝟷𝟼
𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: charles leclerc x fem!reader
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: the one where charles and y/n navigate the challenges of a secret relationship, balancing the pressure of his racing career with quiet moments of intimacy, all while staying out of the spotlight
𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰: adore you- harry styles
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・
It was always going to be simple. A secret, something shared between the two of you. Charles Leclerc, the heartthrob Ferrari driver, and you, a woman who had never believed that she would fall for a man who was in the public eye. But life is humorous at times and forces you to rethink your plans.
You'd known Charles for some time, your familiarity arriving via people you knew. Initially, you were just a presence who cheered him on from a distance, someone who would drop by every now and then to leave him a message or a Facebook post. It wasn't until he asked you out for a weekend of racing that things began to change.
Both of you spent hours chatting between practices, over dinner, and post-race that weekend. He had opened himself up to you in a way he hadn't with anyone else, allowing you to glimpse the person behind the helmet and the race suit. You didn't know when it happened, but somewhere between the late-night chats and the surreptitious glances, you found yourself falling for him.
Charles had made the initial approach. Following a day at the track, when the chaos had died down and the crowds were dispersing, his customary bantering smile reduced to something much more somber, he'd grasped your hand, voice low, as if it was a secret he was sharing with you alone, "I think I should take you out. Away from all this madness.".
A kiss then followed.
And then it all changed. Charles, the world-famous driver with a life of eyes glued to him at every turn, began sneaking around the paddocks, whispering in your ear when nobody was paying attention, and slipping through secret doors to kiss you when nobody was paying attention. It had become a game of stolen moments, furtive caresses, and quick dashes out of the paparazzi's prying eyes.
But with the rush of privacy, came the baggage of challenges that came along. You weren't just a supporter of his, weren't just a figure in his life, watching on. You were somebody who needed to stay undercover, somebody who did not officially exist. All in the fleeting glimpses in hidden places, hidden from inquiring eyes.
And sometimes it wasn't pleasant. You did miss him. You missed being able to take hands in public without fear. You missed watching him smile without the burden of secrecy surrounding it. But you knew why you were doing it. Too much was at stake. Charles' career was everything to him, and the last thing you wanted was to be the reason he lost his job.
But that didn't make it easy.
.・。・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・
It was another weekend of racing, and this week it was on his home track in Monaco. The whole city was buzzing, and you could feel the pressure hovering above everything. Charles had been under enormous pressure to get the job done on his home track, and it showed. You could feel it in his eyes when you spoke with him, the weight of expectation resting heavily on his shoulders.
Hi,</you'd said, approaching him in the deserted corner of the paddock, out of the way of the camera. You'd let him get through his pre-race ritual, and now that he was free for a minute, you had him to yourself at last.
Charles' tired eyes met yours, and for an instant, his face relaxed, the tight edge of his usual race focus dissipated. "Hey," he said, a soft smile playing at the edges of his mouth. It was uncharacteristic to catch him in this state of weakness, and you couldn't help reaching to lay a hand on his arm.
"How are you?" you asked, trying to keep the concern out of your voice. It wasn't that he didn't want to know, but he was always so set on keeping up appearances, even when it was those he was closest to.
He sucked in a hard breath, his hand raking through his hair. "It's a lot," he said. "It's my home track, and I kinda feel like I need to win it. Everyone expects me to." His eyes snapped to yours, a silent plea for reassurance, for something other than the press, the cameras, and the weight of his responsibilities.
You crept closer, resting your hand against his chest, feeling the rapid throb of his heartbeat beneath your skin. "You don't need to do it for anyone other than yourself," you whispered, inching forward. "I'm proud of you, either way."
Charles breathed out, tilting forward into your palm. For one moment, everything else just dissolved. No fans, no photographers, no outside stimuli. There was just him and you.
"I wish I could be honest with everyone about this," he whispered, his lips against your forehead, his arms around you holding you close in a protective hug. "About us. But the timing is wrong. Not now."
You nodded, fully cognizant of the consequences of being publicly involved with someone as famous as Charles. The press would tear your relationship apart, and you could only imagine the stress it would put on him, let alone the public shaming you'd receive. It was for the best this way.
"I know," you gasped, wincing at that reality deep within you. "But when it's done, we'll have all the time in the world."
Charles relaxed a fraction, his hands cradling your face, his eyes blazing. "I want that. More than anything."
At that moment, a voice summoned him. Charles left one last lingering kiss on your cheek before he had to pull away reluctantly. "I have to go," he breathed, though there was a promise unspoken in his eyes. "I'll see you after the race."
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・
The battle was intense. Charles was giving it his all on the track, and you could tell by his focus and grit. Lap after lap, turn after turn, he pushed himself to the limit, the deafening crowd noise echoing through Monaco's streets. You sat in the stands, your eyes fixed on the screen as he gave it his all.
When the checkered flag finally waved, you sighed in relief. Charles had finished second—a wonderful achievement on his home turf, but not the victory he had been hoping for. Still, his face broke into a huge grin as he climbed out of the car, clearly relieved that the weekend was finally over.
You stood behind the shadows while Charles returned to the paddock. He spotted you sooner or later, his face breaking out when he saw you. He approached, spreading his arms to embrace you.
"I did it," he declared, his voice a mix of exhaustion and pride. "Not the win I hoped for, but it's something."
You were amazing out there," you told him, holding his face in your hands. "You should be proud."
Charles wrapped his arms around you tightly, burying his face in your neck. "I couldn't have done it without you," he whispered.
These were the moments when all the secrecy was worth it. The quiet moments, the fleeting touch, the fact that you had something special. It didn't matter what the world would think—this was yours, you two.
And in this moment, that was enough.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・
masterlist
#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#cl16 imagine#cl16 x reader#cl16#ferrari#cl16 fic#formula one#formula 1#wroetolando
124 notes
·
View notes
Text
Doing Time 7
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.
Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
You wade up to the surface of consciousness with a bubbling groan. Your skin tingles and your head swirls. You blink away the dregs as the world comes back into focus. A low drone tickles your ears.
You turn your head towards the voice. Steve's deep timbre sends a shiver through you. You bring your hand above the blankets and rub your forehead. His words are hard to decipher as he keeps his tone low and measured.
"Yeah," he comes down the hall and peeks in at you. He grins. "I'll let her know. Oh, yep. She's been working hard. Oh, ho, I'll make sure of that." He leans on the door frame as he watches you. You slowly sit up, perplexed as his hand frames one hip. "I'll talk to you later, Harriet. Yeah, can't wait to meet."
He pulls your phone away from his cheek and taps with his thumb. You furrow your brow and turn your legs over the edge of the bed, clinging to the blanket to keep yourself hidden.
"Was that--"
"Mom's doing well. She was checking in." He nears and puts your phone on the nightstand. "I didn't want to overstep, baby. In due time. But she kept calling and then I didn't want her to worry. She's already got one kid in trouble, huh?"
"You were talking to my mom?" You croak.
"Well, sweetheart, only a matter of time before I meet the family. Already got Vaughn off the list so...:" he shrugs casually. "She's doing well. Asked about you, I assured her, you're good." He turns and sits next to you. He grips your knee through the blanket. "Don't worry, I don't got much family. A good buddy but.. mom went a while ago. Strong lady but not physically."
"Oh, I'm..."
"Spilled milk," he waves away the condolences. "She said your brother called. Got in a fight or something. She said she couldn't understand him."
You grimace, "A fight?"
"Yeah, it's too bad, 'cause I had my guys looking out for him." He looks at the wall and clucks. "I told him to keep himself straight." He shakes his head and turns his focus to you. "You know what, sweetheart, he takes you for granted. They all do. I'm not stupid. I sat in the pen long enough and you were the only person kind enough to check on me. Your mom won't even come up for her own son, she sends you..." his expression hardens. "It's about time you start doing stuff for yourself."
"It's... complicated," you cross your arms over the blanket.
"Not anymore. You got me now. We're gonna do this together." He insists.
"It's fine, I'll call tonight. I'm sure she misheard," you assure him.
"We'll call," he counters.
You flinch. You stare at him. The lines around his eyes deepen. His age only adds to his stature.
"Okay," you agree. What else can you do?
"We're gonna go out," he proclaims. "I'm gonna buy you something nice."
"Steve, you don't-- I don't want to spend your money--"
"My money's mine to spend and you don't need to worry about it. I got more than enough." He stands and rolls his shoulders. "Got myself a suit delivered while you were resting too." He faces you and puffs out his chest. "I take care of mine and you're my girl so you deserve only the best."
You blink then make yourself smile. The sentiment is sweet, it's only him that's terrifying. At least you don't see the truly scary part of him. The part that saw him through prison.
"You wanna know something silly, baby?" He purrs as he tilts his head.
"Um, sure," you gulp as you shiver beneath the blanket.
"You know, the appeal was taking a while. I was getting impatient," he drawls. "That place will drive you mad but you got me through. I just kept thinking of you and I figured, they draw this thing out another year, maybe you could... arrange for a conjugal." He snickers. "I mean, I wouldn't wanna do it like that but you know how to torture a man with those sweet eyes."
He winks and bites his lip. You squirm as your brows lift. You don't know how to respond.
"The more I thought about it though. You wouldn't believe how worked up you had me." He scoffs again. "And now I got you right in front of me, I wanna do all those things I thought of but I don't wanna spoil it. I want it to be perfect. For both of us."
He crosses the room and lets out a deep breath. He stops before you and pets your cheek.
"So I'm gonna buy you something sexy and then we're gonna come back here and I'm gonna fuck you in it," he growls as he grabs your chin firmly. "And I don't know if I'll ever stop."
⛓️💥
"Nah, I don't think black's your colour," Steve takes the teddy out of your hands. It's the only thing in the shop that won't show everything. You suppose it doesn't matter but your instinct is to hide. "How about this?"
He pulls out a light purple bodice. It only goes halfway down the torso. It's embroidered with little flowers but otherwise transparent. It's not the choice you expect; of either of you.
"If that's what you like," you shift awkwardly.
You stick to basic cottons. You're not really a lingerie person. You never felt sexy enough and your track record hadn't given you many opportunities to dress up. Most of the time, you kept your shirt on.
"It's about what you like, sweetheart," he puts the hanger back. "I mean, I'll take you in nothing at all. You know that."
You look around. You're not the only customers in the store. He doesn't care at all.
"You got everything I like built right in," he steps closer and runs his hand down your side. "You got a nice shape, you know that? And those thighs--"
"Steve," you whisper as your eyes dart back and forth.
"I like that about you. You're shy. You wanna keep this between us. I respect it," he pulls away. "Well, let's see..." he turns back to the racks. "This?"
He pulls out the pink polka dot teddy with the open front. It's trimmed in black with a bow under the chest, and is long enough to keep your stomach mostly covered, except for that slit down the middle.
"Pair of pink panties..." he growls. "I mean, I'll ruin them but it'll be fun."
Your lips part. You nod. It's not so bad. Not like the bras with no cups and the thongs made of little more than strings.
"It's nice," you say, trying not to look too long at it.
He lowers the hanger. His eyes pierce you. You meet their stunning blue.
"You know you're gorgeous regardless of what you got on," he affirms. "You got me thinking of finding a restroom and just..." he chuckles. "A man in the pen is like man in the desert."
You fidget and distract yourself in a search for matching panties in your size. He stays close.
"Have I let you down so far?" He nudges you. "Think I've left you... purring."
"Steve, I just..." you grab panties and face him again. "It's... I'm still surprised, is all."
"Oh, well, you know I won't ever lie to you again. Not that that's what I did," he says, "I just wanted it to be... well, the look on your face was worth it."
You hold out the panties, "these go."
He takes them and arches a brow, "getting impatient, huh?"
You chew your lip and nod. Sure, that's what the tremor in your stomach is. It isn't fear. It's anticipation. Maybe if you can make yourself believe it, he will too.
⛓️💥
Your apartment is not your own anymore. Neither is your body. Or your life.
Steve has infected every part of it. Your home, your family, your very being. Your only reprieve is the short time he gives you to 'get ready'; ready for him to take what's left.
You close yourself in the bathroom and stare at the teddy hanging on the back of the door. A shell of numbness spreads over you and yet your heart is hammering, shaking every part of you. There's a finality that pits in your stomach.
Soft music rises from the other side of the wall. He's ready. He's fearless. He's in control.
You won't waste any more of his time. Funny, how you feel guilty. After what he told you, about waiting on you, you feel like you're wasting his time. He spent enough behind bars for a crime, he claims, he didn't do. That the courts decided he didn't.
It's all so confusing. And scary.
You get up. You undress and change into the skimpy panties and the teddy. You feel exposed. You are. There's nothing left between you and him.
You rinse your face and do your best to tidy up your hair. You don't know why you're trying. The hollowness makes you clumsy.
You face the door. You make yourself leave that room. You're not brave, you're just used to doing what needs to be done. It'll keep Vaughn safe. Your mom too, now he knows about her.
You peek into the bedroom. The walls flicker with the candlelight, a tinge of red in the air as a scarf hangs over the lamp. There are petals all over the floor. The bed has been remade in red silk. He did all this. For you?
"Sweetheart," he startles you as he turns away from the curtains.
He wears only a pair of white boxers, his thick thighs exposed, his muscular middle clenching with tension. You shift your weight and hug your chest. He bites his lip as he comes up to the bed.
Choked to silence, you near the other side. You stare at him and he stares back. His eyes reflect the small flames lit around the space. The music glosses through the air and raises bumps on your skin.
"Come here," he puts a knee up on the bed and reaches across.
You take his large hand and let him pull you onto the mattress. He's deceptively gentle as he guides you down onto your back. He reclines with you, snaking his arm beneath you. He holds you as he traces your jawline and admires you. You look away shyly.
"You really are the most beautiful creature," he growls.
Your cheeks pinch and you look at him. You press your hand softly to his chest. You push your fingertips into him, feeling the firmness, the strength. You remind yourself that if he wants to, he can hurt you. He hasn't so you'll go along.
His fingers flutter down your neck. You shiver. He purrs and leans in. He kisses you. His warmth seeps through the shell frozen around you. Your hand slips up to his shoulder.
He feels along your chest and squeezes you through the thin cup of the lingerie. He swirls around your nipple as he dips his tongue through your lips. You moan as his touch stirs inside you. Your fear mingles with the fire lit by his diligent tending. He growls into you, hooking his leg around yours.
"You really do fill this out perfect," he runs his hand down the sheer fabric of the teddy, the knuckle of his thumb grazing your stomach. He pulls your leg away from the other with his. "All of you is... made for me."
Your lip trembles. You don't want him to know how afraid you really are. He has enough power.
You slide your hand up behind his head and pull him down. You kiss him, desperately. Desperate to hide, to forget, to survive. Grasping at whatever control you can have over this.
His fingers trail along the edge of the panties; across the top then along the creases of your thighs. He spreads a hand over your thigh and kneads the flesh. You quiver and gasp into his mouth.
His breath plumes out hotly as he drags his fingertips along the narrow crotch of the panties. He rubs you through them. He pushes along your clit, the friction hot against the lace. You moan again, your mouth slipping from his as you loop your arm around his neck.
You squeeze your thighs around his hand as he teases you. He buries his face in your neck and nips you as he slowly builds his tempo. Twisting your nerves around his touch until you're writhing and whining. You his and clasp onto his bulging bicep. He snarls and puffs into the crook of your neck.
You cum in a series of spasming waves. You soak through panties as he hums and chuckles along your throat. He pushes beneath the fabric and starts again, unwinding you as he flicks up and down.
The second orgasm has you clutching at the pillow. You dig your heel into the mattress and arch your pelvis, quaking as you ride out the thrill. His fingers slip through your juices and he pokes at your entrance.
He lifts his head, his silvery blonde hair drooping forward. His blue eyes bore into you as yours roll back. He growls as he prods at you.
"Look at me, sweetheart,"
You gasp. He drags his finger across your entrance.
"What'd I tell you?" His voice turns gritty.
You bat your lashes and look at him. His pupils are large and dark. They swallow you up as he pushes two fingers against you, slowly parting your cunt around their breadth. Your lips form and O and you gasp again. You clasp onto his wrist as he delves down to his bottom knuckles.
"Gotta get you ready for me," he leans in to nuzzle your cheek. "Once I'm on ya, I don't know if I'll be able to stop."
#steve rogers#dark steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#series#doing time#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#marvel#mcu#avengers#captain america
137 notes
·
View notes