#decided to do this earlier than expected
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fitzrove · 20 days ago
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The situation I posted about is mostly funny but I do think it makes me feel alienated from some people (largely certain women because it's my main reference group) dkkdld. Like oh you guys truly have never had to contemplate your gender/enforced gender norms/gendered choices and gendered benefits/punishments, you truly think that all of your choices and actions are simply personal and not societally steered and socially rewarded/punished 😅 like y'all are comfortable with your conformity to an extent where you don't even notice how little freedom there is sometimes dkkdksks
#i also have complicated feelings because i don't believe in abolishing gender or anything :/ but like dkskldkd#is there a word for when you're a cis woman but you're viscerally uncomfortable with certain expected social roles and gender performances#its not gender nonconforming i conform in a lot of if not most ways. but i'm uncomfortable a lot skkssk#i think its also a special kind of uncomfortable when you know you're not trans (nonbinary or otherwise). like huh there really is no way#out of the force fem panopticon that everyone pretends is normal and even feminist JSKDKDKDK#and especially with the recent 'internalised misogyny' discourse where you have to bootlick choice feminism JSKSKDK#(= trip over yourself validating people for conforming to gendered expectations and telling them its ok for women to be feminine etc shit)#i wish i could just dress the way i want and look the way i do and be a woman but everyone just decides to give me all of the privileges#and prioritisations that are societally afforded to straight cis men of an otherwise similar position to me in society#but that i'd still be a girl and people would refer to me as such jdkdld. just without the misogyny#also i hate makeup and 'feminine grooming' and rituals related to appearance/expectations of participating in those. and policing#what an acceptable female body looks like and medicalising anything out of the norm#(i've ranted abt this before but if i was born 20ish years earlier i would have been given GROWTH STUNTING PILLS. TO MAKE SURE I STAY SHORT#AND CAN STILL GET CISHET MARRIED TO A MAN. as you know women's main purpose is to look attractive to a husband. if youre tall youre an uggo#sorry this all makes me so mad dkkdkdkd#thank god i have more bodily autonomy than i would have had earlier but 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲 things are still depressing in so many ways#i think i should just have been lesbian crown prince rudolf
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ly-pleiades · 3 months ago
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i got zhezhi ANd a lingyang dupe because i lost 50/50 like 12 pulls in, i'm eating SO good
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banqanas · 7 months ago
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@myduyen20031111 replied to your post:
Could u translate this video in the future? I luv yr sub so muchhh
yes I am planning on translating it :) 👍 i can't give any guarantee if i can finish it anytime soon though, so i hope you can keep it in mind ^^
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keets-writing-corner · 10 months ago
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Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??
As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue
the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD
He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.
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like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...
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The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"
and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it
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does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING
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like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow
For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat
Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation
Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with
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Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)
But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time
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Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell
Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch
idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room
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daosies · 3 months ago
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when you get injured
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sylus, xavier, rafayel ♡ gn!reader
warnings: alcohol (sylus), graphic depictions of violence, sylus is his own warning he's so freaky (but hes so fine), major story spoilers (all three), blood, mc is the protagonist but gender neutral, lowercase intended
notes: MISTY INVASION GOT ME
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sylus always looks forward to your calls.
he likes listening to you ramble about the little nothings of your day, the mindless white noise that echoes from your end whenever you get lost in thought.
more often than not, sylus isn't satisfied with just that. sometimes, he wishes he could witness your expressions for himself rather than through the chirps and retellings from mephisto, to narrow the distance between the two of you.
clink! he lifts a glass of whiskey up to his lips.
sylus eyes his phone before taking a sip, gaze beginning to drift around the vastness of his bedroom. warm lamps illuminate the corners and his attention redirects towards the various plushies that line the shelves.
ever-so slightly, the corners of his lips break into the subtlest of smiles.
his gaze returns to the phone.
later than usual, sylus thinks, staring at the pretentious (according to you) grandfather clock in his room. tick, tick. its tempo mimics his heartbeat, the steady rhythm falling into place.
sylus's days are redundant—they have been for quite a while—but what he always looks forward to is your calls, which always come at this time.
except for today, it seems. even though you're not obligated to call him, and you never told him that these calls would become a regular occurrence, sylus has grown expectant. terribly so.
he takes another sip of his drink, eyes darting back and forth from his phone to his wristwatch.
sylus would like to maintain his image as an independent, mysterious alpha; but you—oh, you—have a knack at dismembering him, at taking apart the chambers of his heart and weaving yourself into its tissue. you tattoo yourself into his skin, permeating into his existence without ever realizing.
you've always been a little cruel. sylus likes that about you.
tick, tick. he half-considers calling you first. when it comes to you, sylus has nothing to lose—from the crimson of his irises to the crimson of his blood, he's surrendered everything, offering all that he has in a ferocious, lovely organ that goes, endlessly: thump, thump, thump...
he thinks of your fantastic beauty. the tempo stutters.
tick, tick. ring! sylus reaches for his phone within an instant, not caring about luke and kieran's spiel about how a "real charmer" would wait for the phone to ring multiple times before picking up. but sylus doesn't have time to play games like that—he wants to hear your voice and he wants to hear it now.
"so, you finally decided to call, hm?" sylus asks, swirling his drink leisurely. he brings the glass up to his lips, unable to contain the way a smirk breaks out onto his face, the way you do so much as exist, the way you radiate and oh, the way you seek him out!
sylus thinks he's never felt so satisfied before, with all that he's ever achieved, you just might be the greatest of them all.
and he hasn't even achieved you yet. he thinks he never will; you've always been volatile, wildly beautiful and wildly free. again, sylus likes that about you.
you don't respond. sylus sets his glass down on the table, unbothered, smirk still fixed onto his lips. that is until he hears a loud crash from your end, the sound of labored breaths following soon after.
"[name]?" sylus calls, standing up immediately. his whiskey remains forgotten, free hand reaching for the leather coat draped across his chair, the fabric still stained red from earlier events.
sylus has no time to worry about how he presents himself, because before you can even utter another word, he's racing out of his pretentious (according to you) mansion and swinging a leg over his motorbike.
the steady tempo of his heart begins to race, beating the rhythm of the grandfather clock that, endlessly, echoes tick, tick... sylus attributes its consistency to the fact that the grandfather clock, in all its glory, has never had the pleasure of knowing you.
if it did, then its flow would be disrupted, its rhythm would stutter and leap, and sylus knows this fact all too well because it's happened to him. because it's happening to him.
thump, thump-thump... "[name]," sylus calls. he says your name just to say it, to feel its syllables on his tongue, to swallow the sound and let it reverberate throughout his chest, easing the spasm of his heart and the fracturing of his ribs.
"[name], talk to me," sylus says, the steadiness of his voice starkly contrasting the tremble of his irises. "[name], i'll be there. count to three?"
one. he revvs the engine.
two. his fingers tighten around the handlebars.
three. the tempo of his heart goes, achingly, thump-thump-thump, thump... for a second, the sound changes. for a second, the sound shifts and utters, in the softest of timbres: you.
black and red tendrils spew from the ground below you, wrapping your figure in a tender embrace whilst the sound of an engine rings throughout your ears.
smoke envelopes the room, your vision becoming blurry while the tendrils shrink away, their absence filled in by the warmth of calloused hands.
sylus lifts you up, pressing your head against his chest before whispering, "go to sleep, darling. it'll all be over soon."
when your eyes lull back, and your body falls limp, sylus goes mad. his hands never leave your figure, his evol forming limbs to strangle your opponent, watching the way they writhe and scream without ever tearing his gaze away.
"report," sylus demands, talking to no one.
"after finding out [name] was closely associated with you, boss, this person tried to get some information about you." still, someone responds.
sylus chuckles. "two corrections." he steps towards the suffocating person, crimson gaze trailing theirs and landing on you. when he notices this, sylus clicks his tongue, tightening the tendrils of his evol and forcing the perpetrator to look away from you.
tenderly, sylus caresses the side of your face, as if to brush away that person's distateful gaze.
"[name] and i are more than just close associates," sylus continues with his previous statement, holding you closer towards him. he finds solace in the way your chest rises up and down, reassuring him of your vitality, your incomparable radiance.
"and," he says, retracting his evol. the person falls to the floor with a harsh thud, and sylus merely tilts his head in the direction of the body, commanding the twins to clean the corpse up.
"that isn't a person. it's just some pest. kieran, don't make that mistake again."
luke snickers.
kieran straightens up, mop in hand. "yes, boss!"
only when your breathing steadies does sylus's heart return to its regular rhythm, matching the pace of the pretentious grandfather clock.
you've taken his bed (he's given it, really), and sylus doesn't bother pulling up a chair; sinking to his knees as he gazes at you fearfully, reverently. his hands come up to cover yours, elbows digging into the mattress. the warmth of your skin mixes with his own.
you've taken his bed, but sylus thinks that that's only one of the many things you've taken. you've taken his mind, his heart, him. you've taken all that he's got to give, all that he's ever fathomed of being his.
"you're always so cruel," sylus mutters to himself, thumb rubbing the back of your hand.
(but, i love that about you, he thinks.)
your head and side are wrapped with bandages, tended to by sylus himself. he doesn't trust anyone else—not even luke or kieran—when it comes to treating you; you're too delicate, too fragile for a place like this.
sylus's gaze remains fixed on the bridge of your nose, the cracks of your lips. sweat trickles down your forehead, your brows furrowed from discomfort and nightmares plaguing your sleep. he reaches a hand to brush the sweat away, grazing across your skin until your brows ease up, until your expression drifts into that of contentedness.
oh, you're beautiful. ethereally so.
(you don't belong here.)
still, sylus's hand traces over yours. he feels the callouses adorning your palm, marred by your work as a hunter. filling the gaps of your fingers with his own, sylus's hand locks into place.
(you call it abduction. he calls it love.)
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whenever it comes to you, xavier is on high alert.
he's always hyper aware of your location, your status and your surroundings. whenever you fight wanderers together—as partners often do—he's always thinking of you, of ways to redirect everything towards him, of ways to get you as far away as possible.
for the longest time, xavier thought that that'd be enough. he thought that, so long as you're okay, he doesn't care about what happens to him, about what happens to anything. he's always thought that, really. here and philos alike.
"xavier!" you yell, and before he can even react, your figure comes colliding with his, arms wrapping tightly around the back of his neck as the two of you tumble towards the ground.
he doesn't know what went wrong—was it his clumsiness? was it his arrogance? he had always thought that, so long as you were safe, nothing else mattered.
but xavier had never thought of a situation where he was the one at risk, where he was the one who needed saving. he had never thought that you'd be the one to sacrifice yourself, because, ever since he met you, xavier identified himself as a sword, as a weapon at your disposal.
he is your weapon. he is yours.
xavier's hand comes to the small of your back, feeling the blood seep in between the gaps of his fingers. his breath falls short of escaping, shrinking down his esophagus and bringing everything, from the race of his heart to the warmth of his face to a standstill.
primal instincts take over. xavier fights with tooth and nail, forgetting all that he's learned from his swordsmanship classes—but oh, never forgetting his time with you—while his grip around your waist tightens.
his movements are quick and wild as he slices through each wanderer with the efficiency of a machine, running on a code that prints out, endlessly, you, you, you.
after everything has been eliminated, xavier reaches for your neck, searching desperately for a pulse. after confirming that it's there, he teleports away to the nearest hospital, free palm pressing into the center of your wound.
xavier's scared. he's scared you won't make it. he's scared he's failed you. he's scared of a lot of things, really.
when you're wheeled away in a stretcher, tended to by a whole team of medical professionals, xavier's left yearning and waiting, clinging onto nothing but hope and a fragmented memory of you. he's always yearned—back in philos and here, now—but it's a little different this time.
you've always been out of reach, like you were a star and he, an observer. but now, you're so tangible, so delicate and so fleeting despite being right there.
xavier feels like you could disappear within an instant, and he wouldn't put it past you to leave this life behind, to restart anew somewhere else. with someone who was a little stronger than him, a little less selfish.
he's selfish. so what?
you evoke something primal within him, something that makes him forget his etiquette classes and his time at the academy, wasting away at textbooks and duels. you make xavier burn, wildly, fantastically, like a flame—like a star, even.
you make him feel unlike himself, because xavier's used to being calm and collected and oh-so drowsy, but when it comes to you, everything changes. the world reinvents itself anew and presents itself, fogged in a pink lens, as something lovelier than before.
xavier resigns himself to one of the many chairs of the waiting room. he buries his face into his gloved hands, not caring about the messiness of his appearance.
when he closes his eyes, all he can see is your limp figure. he opts to stare at the television screen instead, the reports of the news appearing mute to his deafened ears. xavier swallows thickly, mouth feeling terribly dry, wrapped around the shape of your name. it waits.
a couple hours pass, and a nurse appears to fetch him. xavier says nothing, tongue still stuck in time.
only when he enters your room, and listens to the repetitive beep of the heart monitor, does his mouth free itself from its prison, liberating itself to utter, in the faintest of whispers, "[name]..."
you don't stir awake. xavier's fine with that. he pulls a chair to your bedside, and he sits, and he stares. periwinkle eyes trail across your features, tracing them like a sculptor, desperate to reshape the bandages and gauzes that cover your abdomen.
xavier wishes he could crawl into your body and steal all the pain for himself.
there's a great, irrevocable instinct within him, the kind of instinct that is only ever sung about in epics and myths and tragic, star-crossed plays.
he reaches forward, bare thumb coming to graze over your cheekbone. you're quiet, too quiet, and xavier's paranoid. too paranoid.
there's a great, irrevocable instinct within him. it takes over xavier's eyes and it trains them to fixate on you.
your image slips into his sight, swallowed greedily by xavier's pupils, remembered fervently by his mind. while his hands cannot have you, xavier compensates with his eyes, desperate and mad and oh, so lovely.
there's a great, irrevocable instinct within him. it's primal and it's primitive and it's hungry.
xavier forfeits his beloved sleep in order to watch over your heart monitor, to watch over your heart.
even when all the lights shut off, and when the device's beeps blend into the white noise of the hospital room, his periwinkle gaze never leaves your figure, adjusting to the darkness and finding solace there.
(a star has landed on earth. it's guided by a great, irrevocable instinct. it's primal and it's primitive and it's hungry.)
once more, xavier's mouth wraps around the shape of your name. it utters, in the softest of timbres, "[name], i love you."
although you aren't awake to respond, xavier is content with just this.
(a star has landed on earth. it stayed because it found you.)
"[name]," he whispers again, finding comfort in the familiar syllables, "i love you." maybe, saying it will make it realer than it already is. maybe, saying it will satiate his soul, providing him with enough sustenance to feast on for the next century or two.
maybe, xavier just calls your name to feel its syllables on his tongue. because he likes the sound of your name. because he wants to hear it, in whatever capacity, whenever he can.
maybe, it's just a great, irrevocable instinct.
whatever it is, xavier is content. he stares at you, and he feasts.
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it always goes like this: with rafayel chasing after you.
you have a habit of leaving him behind—rafayel thinks it's just in your nature.
you give him a taste of everything before leaving him with nothing, and even though rafayel hates, hates you for that, he can't help but want everything again.
(he had everything, once.)
"[name]!" the scream that erupts from rafayel's throat is raw, marred by a desperation and anguish that travels across lifetimes. rafayel can't lose you—not again, not like this.
"raf—" you're interrupted by a violent cough, blood spilling from your lips. "just go!"
and there you go again, in all your selfish glory, in all your inconsiderate and shameless heroism. do you like watching his expression drop into that of utter horror, when all he's ever wanted was you?
he can never get his way.
"ugh," he mutters to himself, voice cracking at the end. "i just hate you, you know!?" your gaze is preoccupied by the giant wanderer that looms over your figure, its attention belonging wholly to you.
rafayel has the audacity to be offended. hello? he manages to think, despite all the fear and anxiety. why's it not looking at me? i'm right here!
you aim your gun at the wanderer's head, and rafayel almost wants to laugh. to think you're fighting close-combat with guns—wow, what an accomplished bodyguard you are!
rafayel is half-considering finding a new bodyguard now, because it looks like his current one isn't too bright in the head.
rafayel hates the way you go around, saving everyone, saving everything. he hates the way you save and the way you forget, the way you go around picking up more strays whilst forgetting your first one.
rafayel hates you. he hates you. he hates you!
despite all the pain and soreness in his (self-proclaimed) delicate limbs, he rushes forward, daggers in hand while fire vomits from the ground. rafayel hates you, sure, but hate and love are lawfully wedded, tightly intertwined and fueled by one another.
rafayel hates you. he hates you. but oh, he loves you. he loves you in the way he's willing to let you keep that heart of his, the way orpheus loved eurydice, the way he did everything and anything, only to catch a glimpse before losing it all.
he charges in front of you, occupying the wanderer while you take a couple steps back. rafayel half-wishes you'd run. he half-wishes you'd turn and abandon him so he could find it in himself to abandon you. you did it once before, so why can't you do it again?
when bullets stop flying, rafayel wonders if you left. he wonders if it's really over. so, he looks back.
you're still there. this time, you don't disappear. your eyes meet his, and somehow, you find it in yourself to smile.
he wants to cry.
"rafayel, let's resonate!"
and oh, you're otherwordly. you're so, so gorgeous. it's in the flame that dances across your irises, the determination that settles into your features.
you're so beautiful it hurts, because rafayel hates the effect you have on him, the way you go around enchanting everyone, everything!
when crimson blood trickles down your face, staining your skin a violent red, rafayel thinks you're sublime. he feels insignificant in your radiance, in your marvelous existence, your marvelous world.
"fine, let's!"
your hand locks with his, and rafayel hates the way his heart skips a beat. he hates the way yours didn't. he hates the way he's the only one overthinking these things, the only one who remembers after all this time.
the world is engulfed in flames. and rafayel spares you a glance, your skin illuminated by the warmth, flickering in and out. the wanderer disintegrates into ash, leaving nothing but a measly protocore for all the suffering it put him through.
your eyes fall back. instinctively, rafayel reaches a hand out, catching you in his arms despite hating the way you contort his limbs, the way you make him trail after you like a madman.
he is anything but a madman—in fact, rafayel is perfectly normal.
still, he cradles you in his arms. blood trickles from the side of your face.
"you're not the only one bleeding," rafayel mutters bitterly, feeling lightheaded himself. "who do you even think you are?"
his thumb comes to brush your chapped lips, wiping stray droplets of blood from the dried skin.
you're ethereal. rafayel will never admit that outloud. not like this. but, he thinks that you're something akin to a grecian statue, reflecting all that is lovely and all that is mortal.
rafayel thinks that, when you were crafted—long before this current incarnation—you were crafted with the most delicate of touches, the loveliest of visions.
he looks at you, and he wants to create. he wants to waste away at his canvases, wild and fanatic and looking over his shoulder, wondering if you'll still be there when it's all over.
knowing your nature, you won't be.
still, rafayel can't help but dream. dreams can change the world, after all. dreams are what led him back to you.
his thumb reaches for his own lips. he kisses the skin and he weeps.
rafayel hates you.
he hates you so, so much.
he shrinks into your figure and he follows your heartbeat, the sound so, achingly familiar.
when you regain consciousness, it's in rafayel's studio. your figure is drowned in pearl-white blankets, your wounds wrapped tenderly with fresh bandages.
"good mooorning, sleepyhead," rafayel says, not facing you. his hands are occupied with a brush and palette, head craned upward to fully take in the canvas. "some bodyguard you are, huh!"
"rafayel!" you quickly exclaim, trying to stand up. rafayel is quick to turn around, setting his palette down to wag a disapproving finger at you.
"nuh uh! don't get out of bed! get some rest! and oh, don't even talk to me! not until you've apologized for doing all that dumb, fish-brained stuff!"
rafayel looks back. you're still there.
in this life, rafayel thinks he has everything.
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ozzgin · 9 months ago
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Yandere! Demon King Headcanons
You have accepted the Demon King’s marriage proposal!
I wasn't planning on writing a second part, but some of you gave me ideas and I decided on short headcanons instead. The image of a big, buff, evil Overlord lovingly doing house chores for their human was too tempting.
Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance
[Main Story]
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The proposal, as you quickly found out, came as a surprise to everyone. Not even the King’s loyal butler knew of such intentions; he’d assumed they were finally going to destroy everything and everyone at once. To him, the dramatic scene of you and his Lord enveloped in flames was anything but a romantic confession. It was your final battle. So one might imagine the poor lizard’s confusion when the Demon King returned with you following behind. “S-sir?” He questioned meekly. The armored creature nodded at his servant. “It has been done. We’ll plan the wedding upon our arrival home.” The what? His baffled expression must’ve given him away, because the Demon continued: “What’re you gawking like that for? Didn’t I ask you earlier how humans forge a bond?” The butler stumbled to search for his words, swallowing dryly. “Well y-yes, your Majesty…I just didn’t expect it to be anything more than curiosity.”
The same speechless reaction repeated itself all the way to the Kingdom. Soldiers, diplomats, other monstrous entities of the unknown Land, they all greeted you in disbelief. So much, in fact, that you began to poke fun at their hesitant response: “I am his mortal enemy”, you’d announce with a dramatic bow. “Spouse! We talked about this!” the Demon Lord would quickly correct you, flustered.
Truth be told, you're not quite sure what made you accept this ridiculous offer. Perhaps a mixture of intrigue and disillusionment. The city you've dedicated yourself to stood no longer, burnt to a crisp along with its corruption and crookery. In a way, the monster had unshackled you from a responsibility you no longer wanted to bear. And if that wasn't enough to convince you, well, the sight of the Ruler himself kneeling before you certainly sealed the deal.
Although it may take a while for you to accept the idea that your worst adversary had actually been infatuated with you this entire time. Were there even any hints? During your last battle you nearly died. You'd crawled out of an enormous crater on your fours, bones shattered and ligaments torn. When you pointed this out to your groom-to-be, he stared at you in horror. "I had no idea humans were that fragile. I was trying to adjust my strength so as to not do any harm." You could only nod, patting away the sweat beads forming on your forehead. Uh huh. Maybe it's better you didn't experience his full range of attacks.
Ever since the devastating revelation, he's been extra careful when handling you. Sometimes he'll awkwardly hover his large hands above you, with a concentrated frown on his face. "What the hell are you doing?" you ask, eyeing him suspiciously. "I'm trying to be gentle." he'll answer. "You're not even touching me." Fair point, but it's better to be safe than sorry.
The Demon King will often ask you about customs from your world as a way to make you comfortable, just in case you get struck by the occasional homesickness. His Realm is very different from what you're used to, after all. Lamentably, his own years spent in the human world were not too fruitful from a cultural point of view. He was either busy stalking you or devouring the souls of the innocent. Now that he has nothing else to worry about, he will gladly listen and even do his best to actively participate.
You wake up shrouded in thick smoke. Overwhelmed by heavy déjà vu, you rush down the grand stairs, searching for the source of the fire. Are you being attacked? Enemies of the Demon King? You elbow yourself against the kitchen door, similar to when you left your home to find the city ablaze. The Demon Lord turns to face you, visibly overwhelmed and exhausted. You gawk at the scene unfolding before you and remember to close your mouth, mainly out of politeness. "It's too small. I'm afraid I cannot use it", he reveals timidly, holding a human spatula between his fingers to showcase the impractical size difference. You glance at the disastrous attempt behind him and manage to deduce he'd been trying to make breakfast. In an unspoken agreement, he steps back and allows you to take over.
"I'm surprised you let him burn down the kitchen", you mention to the butler once you get a moment to yourself. The scaly servant sighs, and theatrically lifts his clawed hands in hopelessness. "Pointless to argue with him when he's like this, (Y/N). In my entire life serving the Family, I've never witnessed a more stubborn leader." He points to the lavish portraits adorning the walls with a faint smile. "And, to put it frankly, he's obsessed with you. I've never seen him in a more deplorable state. Marrying a human?! The shame, the outrage!” he cries out. “No offense intended to you, of course. You must understand." You hum in agreement, a tad uncomfortable, yet sympathetic. "M-maybe it'll tone down after the wedding?" you suggest as encouragement. "Oh, no, I suspect it will only get worse", he bemoans in return. Then, he promptly straightens his back and resumes his duties.
You go on your own way, not wanting to burden the lizard in his work. As you cross the hallway, you find the Demon King himself scanning each room, somewhat agitated. He notices you and his features soften. "I was wondering where you'd vanished." You approach him with the words of the butler still ringing in your ears.
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honeybelleee · 19 days ago
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Extra Lessons | L.HS
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Synopsis - y/n a struggling trainee sparks an intense connection with her strict trainer Heeseung, leading to a steamy, unexpected encounter during their private lessons.
Genre - trainer x trainee, dom!heeseung x inexperienced!reader, smut, fluff
Warnings - loss of virginity (reader), mention of first kiss (reader), reader is so inexperience, heeseung possessive asf here, 5 years age gap (heeseung is 23, y/n is 18), pet names (baby, princess, angel), swearings, fingering (f receiving), p in a v, unprotected sex (pls dont do this), dirty talks, nipple play, corruption kink, HEAVY making outs, praise kink (hee calls reader good girl)
Belle’s notes - i wish this happened to me irl :( likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated 🫶🏻
masterlist
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Heeseung was known for his strict and no-nonsense approach. His intense gaze and authoritative demeanor often sent shivers down the spines of trainees, who would instinctively straighten up and try harder under his watchful eyes. Despite his tough exterior, Heeseung was respected for his expertise and the success of the idols he had mentored.
Among the trainees, Y/n always seemed to catch his attention. Y/n was one of the youngest in the group, standing out with her quiet demeanor and petite frame. Her reserved nature made her appear fragile in contrast to the other confident, high-energy trainees. She wasn’t the best at dancing and often found herself stumbling during practice, her lack of confidence evident in every misstep. Yet, there was something about her determination that struck a chord with Heeseung.
Y/n was hardworking, and despite her mistakes, she never gave up. Every time she fell behind, she would stay late after practice, pushing herself to improve.
Heeseung observed her from a distance, noting the shy but fierce look of concentration she wore while working on her moves. There was something endearing about her persistence, and it wasn’t long before Heeseung decided to step in.
After one particularly grueling group session, Y/n lingered in the practice room, rehearsing a difficult dance sequence that had tripped her up earlier. She was so focused that she didn’t notice Heeseung approaching until his deep voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Y/n," he called, making her jump slightly.
Turning quickly, she stood frozen as Heeseung approached. His eyes were as intense as ever, but his expression was softer than usual. She was used to his strict criticism, but this time, there was something different in his gaze.
“You’re working hard,” he said, his voice low but not unkind. “But you’re too tense. You need to relax.”
“I’m sorry,” she stammered, looking down at her feet. “I’ll keep practicing until I get it right.”
Heeseung frowned. “That’s not what I meant. It’s good that you’re working hard, but you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. It’s affecting your performance.”
Y/n bit her lip, feeling a lump form in her throat. She knew she wasn’t as skilled as the others, and every mistake felt like another step away from her dream of becoming an idol.
"I don't want to fall behind," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Heeseung’s gaze softened. He wasn’t used to seeing trainees this vulnerable, especially someone as determined as Y/n. Without thinking, he placed a hand on her shoulder, startling her with the unexpected gesture.
“You’re not falling behind,” he said, his voice firm but encouraging. “You just need some guidance. Let’s work on this together.”
Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise. Extra lessons with Heeseung were rare and highly sought after by trainees, and she never expected to be offered one. She nodded quickly, her heart racing at the thought of having his full attention, but also nervous about whether she could live up to his expectations.
“Thank you, Heeseung sunbae-nim,” she whispered, bowing her head in gratitude. “I’ll do my best.”
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The following day, Y/n arrived at the practice room for her first one-on-one session. Her nerves were on edge as she walked in, feeling the weight of Heeseung’s serious gaze as soon as she stepped inside. He stood near the mirror, his arms crossed as he watched her approach. The room felt smaller with just the two of them, and Y/n could feel her heart pounding in her chest.
"Ready?" he asked, his tone calm but authoritative.
Y/n nodded, wiping her clammy hands on her shorts. She took her place in front of the mirror, trying to steady her breathing as Heeseung moved to stand beside her. His presence was imposing, but not in the way that made her want to run. Instead, it made her want to prove herself.
They started with simple movements, Heeseung correcting her form and posture as they went along. He was patient, more so than she expected, offering advice and demonstrating each step with precision. Yet, no matter how much she focused, Y/n found herself making mistakes, her nerves getting the better of her.
At one point, she stumbled, nearly falling to the floor, but Heeseung’s quick reflexes caught her by the arm, steadying her.
"Relax," he murmured, his voice lower than usual. “You’re thinking too much. Feel the music, don’t force the movements.”
Y/n blinked up at him, her cheeks flushing under his scrutiny. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, but not entirely from the dance. There was something about the way he looked at her, like he was seeing more than just a trainee.
Heeseung took a step back, giving her space, but his eyes never left hers. “Let’s take a break,” he suggested, motioning for her to sit. “You’re overworking yourself.”
Grateful for the respite, Y/n sank onto the practice room floor, her legs feeling like jelly. She took a deep breath, glancing up as Heeseung sat down beside her, uncharacteristically close.
"You’re trying too hard to be perfect," he said after a moment of silence. "It’s not about perfection. It’s about feeling the music and letting your body follow naturally."
Y/n looked down at her hands, unsure of how to respond. She had always felt like she had to be perfect, especially in an industry that demanded it. But hearing Heeseung say otherwise felt... comforting.
"How did you do it?" she asked, her voice quiet. “You’re always so confident when you dance.”
Heeseung chuckled softly, a rare sound that made her look up in surprise. “I wasn’t always like this,” he admitted. “When I first started training, I made plenty of mistakes. But I learned that being perfect isn’t what matters. It’s about how you recover from your mistakes.”
Y/n blinked, processing his words. Heeseung someone she had always seen as flawless had struggled too?
He must have seen the surprise in her eyes, because he added, “Everyone goes through it. Even the best dancers. But you can’t give up on yourself.”
Y/n felt a flicker of hope ignite in her chest. Maybe she wasn’t as far behind as she thought. Maybe, with Heeseung’s help, she could get better.
They resumed practice after their break, and though Y/n still stumbled a few times, she felt lighter. Each time she faltered, Heeseung was there, his steady hands guiding her, his voice reassuring. Little by little, she began to feel the rhythm of the music, her body moving more naturally under his watchful eye.
By the end of the session, Y/n was exhausted but also elated. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she could do this, that she might have a chance at becoming the idol she had always dreamed of being.
As they wrapped up, Heeseung looked at her, his intense gaze softening just a little.
"You're improving," he said simply.
Y/n smiled shyly, her cheeks warming at the compliment. “Thank you. I’ll keep practicing.”
Heeseung nodded, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, his voice low.
“Same time.”
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Y/n’s heart was racing as she caught a glimpse of Heeseung's biceps from his tanktop, and his tall figure towering over her.
"Let's begin," he said, his voice deep and commanding. Y/n nodded, trying to steady her trembling hands. As they started the routine, Heeseung's eyes traced her every move, his gaze intense and focused. He noticed her nervousness and took a step closer, his presence both intimidating and thrilling.
Midway through the dance, Heeseung's control began to slip. The sight of Y/n's delicate form was more captivating than he had anticipated. Every hesitant step she took seemed to pull him in, her innocence and vulnerability stirring something deep within him. His intense gaze followed her every move, and without thinking, he closed the distance between them.
In one swift motion, Heeseung's hand found its way to Y/n’s waist, his fingers gripping her soft skin with a firmness that sent a jolt of electricity through her. Before she could react, Heeseung spun her around, his lips crashing onto hers with a force that made her gasp in surprise.
The kiss was anything but gentle. It was hungry, raw, and overwhelming, like he had been holding back this desire for far too long. His lips moved against hers with an urgency that left no room for hesitation. Y/n’s heart raced as she felt the heat of his body press into her, the world around them fading into a blur. Her knees wobbled, but Heeseung's grip tightened, keeping her grounded as his lips devoured hers.
Y/n’s mind spun, her inexperience clashing with the intense feelings bubbling inside her. She had never been kissed like this. Hell she had never been kissed at all, and the sheer intensity of it was enough to make her dizzy. His lips were demanding, taking control as he explored her mouth with a sense of greediness that sent shivers down her spine.
Heeseung’s tongue brushed against her lips, coaxing them apart, and when she hesitated, he growled softly, deepening the kiss with a fierce determination. His tongue slipped into her mouth, tasting her, teasing her with slow, deliberate movements. Y/n couldn’t help but moan softly into the kiss, her body instinctively responding to the heat radiating between them.
The sound only seemed to spur Heeseung on, his hand sliding up her back, pulling her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. His other hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her flushed cheek as he tilted her head, angling her lips to fit perfectly against his. Y/n’s pulse quickened as the kiss grew more heated, their lips colliding with a feverish intensity.
Heeseung’s kiss was relentless, a mix of heat and control that left Y/n breathless. His lips moved against hers with precision, each motion sending sparks of desire through her. She could feel his body tense with restrained power, his grip on her waist firm yet possessive, as if he couldn’t get enough of her.
Every time Y/n thought he might pull away, Heeseung only deepened the kiss further. His tongue explored her mouth with a sensual dominance, the taste of him intoxicating as he claimed her with every movement. Heeseung's lips were hot, his breath ragged as he pushed her harder against him, his desire for her clear in the way his hands gripped her tighter.
A soft whimper escaped Y/n’s lips as his teeth grazed her lower lip, nibbling lightly before sucking it between his own. The feeling sent a sharp wave of pleasure coursing through her, and she couldn’t stop the way her body responded, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt as she melted into him. Heeseung smirked against her mouth, clearly enjoying the effect he had on her.
"You taste even better than I imagined," he murmured against her lips, his voice low and husky, sending a thrill through Y/n's body.
Before she could process his words, Heeseung's lips crashed back onto hers with renewed fervor, his kiss growing more hungry, more desperate. He kissed her like he wanted to consume her, like he couldn’t stand the thought of pulling away even for a second. His hand tangled in her hair, gently tugging her head back to expose her neck. Without warning, his lips left hers, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her jawline, his breath scorching her skin.
Y/n’s breath hitched as Heeseung’s lips brushed against the sensitive spot just below her ear, his teeth grazing her skin lightly before sucking on the delicate flesh. The sensation sent a wave of heat flooding through her, and she bit down on her lower lip to keep from moaning too loudly.
"You drive me crazy," Heeseung whispered, his voice dark and rough, his lips continuing their path down her neck. His kisses were searing, each one making her feel as if she were burning from the inside out. Heeseung nipped at her skin, his tongue soothing the sting as he moved lower, his lips brushing dangerously close to her collarbone.
Y/n's entire body felt like it was on fire, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breathing. She could barely think, her mind consumed by the feeling of Heeseung's lips and the way his hands roamed her body with a hunger that made her knees weak. It was overwhelming, intoxicating, and she didn’t want it to stop.
Heeseung’s lips returned to hers, his kiss more insistent, harsher than before. His hand slid down her back, resting on the curve of her waist as he pressed her closer to him, their bodies molding together as if they were made to fit this way. Y/n could feel the heat of his body radiating through his clothes, his hard muscles tense beneath her fingers.
"I’m going to ruin you," he murmured against her lips, his breath hot and ragged.
He unbuttoned her crop top, revealing her small, perky breasts. Her nipples were already erect, betraying her arousal.
Heeseung's mouth watered as he leaned down, taking a taut peak between his lips. He sucked and teased, his tongue flicking across her sensitive bud. Y/n arched her back, a loud moan escaping her lips. She had never felt such pleasure, her body responding instinctively to his skilled touch. He pinched her nipples, rolling and tugging them until she was squirming beneath him, her hands gripping the couch cushions tightly.
His fingers trailed down her stomach, sliding beneath the waistband of her panties. He eased them down her slender thighs, revealing her bare pussy. Y/n's breath hitched as she felt the cool air on her exposed skin. Heeseung's fingers gently parted her folds, his thumb circling her clit, eliciting a soft whimper from her.
"You like that, don't you?" he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire. "Be my good girl and let me hear how much you're enjoying this Y/n."
He increased the pressure, rubbing her clit in firm circles, his fingers dipping into her wetness. Y/n's moans grew louder, her hips thrusting against his hand. He added another finger, stretching her, preparing her for what was to come. He eased his fingers in and out, building her pleasure until she was writhing beneath him, her body tense on the brink of release.
"Let it out for me princess," he commanded, his voice rough but gentle at the same time.
Y/n's body trembled as she surrendered to the overwhelming sensations, her orgasm ripping through her. She cried out, her back arching off the couch, her pussy clenching around his fingers. Heeseung continued to stroke her through her climax, drawing it out until she was a quivering mess.
He moved between her thighs, his hard cock straining against his pants. Y/n's eyes fluttered open, her face flushed and satisfied. Heeseung positioned himself at her entrance, his length pressing against her wetness. Slowly, he pushed inside, feeling her tightness envelop him. Y/n gasped, her body adjusting to the invasion.
Heeseung held himself still, giving her time to accommodate his size. Then, with a gentle rhythm, he began to move, his hips thrusting slowly at first, then picking up the pace. Y/n's eyes fluttered closed, her hands gripping his shoulders as she met his thrusts, her pussy squeezing his cock.
"You feel so fucking good, Y/n," he growled, his voice strained. "So tight and wet."
He increased the tempo, his cock sliding in and out of her with urgency. Y/n's breath came in short gasps, her nails digging into his shoulders. Heeseung's control was slipping again, his desire to possess her completely overwhelming.
"I'm going to cum inside you, angel," he grunted, his voice hoarse. "I want to fill you with my cum."
Y/n's body tightened around him as she felt his cock throbbing, her own pleasure building again. Heeseung's name escaped her lips in a breathless moan as she climaxed again, her pussy pulsating around him. He followed her over the edge, his cock twitching as he filled her with his hot release, their bodies connected in the most intimate way.
As their hearts slowed and their breathing evened out, Heeseung collapsed onto the couch beside Y/n, pulling her close. She snuggled against his chest, feeling safe in his arms as the warmth of their shared moment lingered. Heeseung kissed the top of her head, his fingers gently stroking her back.
“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice full of tenderness.
Y/n nodded, her eyes half-closed. “Yeah… I’m okay,” she whispered, feeling a soft smile tug at her lips.
Heeseung’s hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin. “You were amazing,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You did so well."
Y/n blushed, her heart fluttering at the affection in his voice. “Thank you… I didn’t know it could feel like that,” she admitted shyly.
He chuckled, his eyes soft as he pulled her closer. “I’ll run you a warm bath later, okay? You deserve it.” His voice was low and caring, filled with a sweetness that made Y/n's chest tighten.
She looked up at him, smiling softly. “You’re really sweet,” she whispered, feeling a warmth spread through her.
“Only for you,” he replied with a grin, kissing her gently. After a moment, he whispered, “You’re mine now,”
Y/n nodded, her heart swelling with emotion. “I am.”
Heeseung smiled, kissing her one last time, his arms wrapped protectively around her as they settled into a comfortable silence, the connection between them deeper than before.
TAGLIST - @jakeyhoney @jakeswifez @gnvi-eve
©honeybelleee on tumblr!
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op-sys-chaos · 3 months ago
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DPxDC prompt (demon twins au)
A video from your son, the email was titled. Bruce was confused. Which of his kids would send a video to his public work email??
Bruce clicked play.
On the screen was a boy who look a lot like Damian, but most certainly wasn’t him.
“This video is for the eyes of Bruce Wayne only.
Hi Dad. I’m Danny. You likely don’t know I exist, and if you’re receiving this, I’m already dead. Well, more dead than I already was. Maybe it’s cruel of me to send you a message post-mortem, but you deserve the truth, and telling you earlier would’ve put you in danger.
This email is set to automatically send if I haven’t opened my computer for 3 days. I sometimes set it longer if I’m on vacation or expecting trouble, but I’ve mostly likely been away from home for a bit over three days if you’re receiving this.
I don’t know who killed me. Obviously. I’m recording this in advance. But it was probably either the GIW or my adoptive parents, the Fentons. I half-died at 14 and became a local ghost superhero, but they never realized I was trying to help and kept talking about tearing ghost-me apart molecule by molecule, so I bet that’s what happened. There will be nothing left of me to bury. Sorry about that!
The rest of the story is this. I was raised in an assassin cult, eventually escaping at the age of 6 when they sent me on mission and I successfully faked my death.
My biggest regret is that I escaped alone. And that’s the reason I’m reaching out to you.
You’re a civilian. If you know too much about the League of Assassins you’ll be in danger. But I need you to save my twin Damian. He’s likely still there after all these years. He never wanted to escape; he took pride in being the heir to the league. He’s probably going to be stabby; he’s an assassin after all. But it’s not his fault. Ra’s - our grandfather - brainwashed him a lot more than he brainwashed me because Damian was more susceptible to it. It’s not his fault. Please. Save him. I’m begging you. My biggest regret is leaving Damian in the league. You have a chance to save him. Please, please do it.
I wish it would’ve been safe for me to get to know you. You seem like a cool dad, from what I’ve seen of you on the news with your oldest kids. I bet you’re like that with the youngest you hide from the public too. I wish you all the best. Thank you for listening.
Your long lost almost certainly dead by now son, Danny Fenton.”
Bruce took a second to process this, then picked up his phone and dialed his youngest’s number.
“Father.”
“Damian, did you have a twin named Danny?”
“…Who told you?”
Bruce hung up and sent Damian the video. He needed a minute to process this anyway.
Damian called back a few minutes later, after watching the video.
“Father. I do not care what state he is in. We must discover exactly what happened to Danny. Even if there is only a single molecule left. We must discover the truth.”
“I couldn’t agree more, Damian.”
Dealer’s choice on whether Danny is alive. The few ideas I have for this are:
- they find him mid-vivisection and rescue him
- they find what’s left of him post-vivisection and post his core being crushed
- he’s perfectly fine and just forgot to open his computer (maybe clockwork made sure he forgot?) and now he’s panicking about the fact that his family knows about him and could be in danger. He wanted them to know he existed, not make themselves a walking target for the league by finding him and trying to bring him home!
- Jazz found the automatic email and, deciding to meddle in her brother’s life and him back to his family and maybe get a good parent for herself as a bonus, sent it early
- Technus decided to start shit and sent it while haunting Danny’s computer
- Clockwork screwed with time to make sure it got sent
Lmk what yall do with this!
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lyrefromthesea · 5 months ago
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Can I request something? I think it would be pretty cute to have a slow morning with the hashira, like not having any missions to go to, so you just stay in bed and cuddle and talk about things. Pls make it fluff or even angst of you’d like! Have a great day/night and remember to rest, eat and drink!
Male pillars x reader - morning hours
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pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader
content warning: none
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Tengen:
"and what are you doing, beautiful?" Tengen asked, stepping through the doorway to enter the kitchen.
his eyes were locked on your figure, watching you prepare the breakfast for five people. the table had already been prepared, plates and glasses put on their rightful place.
"i woke up earlier and decided to prepare breakfast. are the others awake already?" you asked, turning around to face him. he stopped walking towards you, putting a hand under his chin - pretending to ponder over your question.
"Hinatsuru hasn't moved at all since yesterday. Makio is sprawled out over the bed, she stole the blanket from the other two. and Suma was clinging to my waist, I had to prick each finger off individually.
you looked at him for a moment, the corners of your lips tugging into a smile. you couldn't hold it in anymore, letting out a laugh, trying to keep it quiet as not to wake the others.
"you could've just said they were still sleeping!" you told him, watching him smirk down at you.
"i wanted to make ya laugh, beautiful." he answered, finally stepping towards you. he cupped your cheek with his hand, leaning down to press a kiss against your other one.
"now let me help make breakfast. maybe we could go visit the hot spring later, would ya like that?"
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Obanai:
his first thought when he woke up always surrounded your being - your smile, your voice, your eyes, your prior conversations.
he wished to put his mind at ease, forget the worries of his life and only think of the times he could spend with you. however, the past had marked him, forced him to be attentive, always.
he looked to the side, wanting to grab his mask and make sure everything was fine. but he stopped feeling your chin rest on his chest.
"Obanai?" you mumbled, looking at the man next to you. his hand halted, not able to grab his mask when your eyes were looking at him like that.
"i just want to make sure everything is fine." he whispers, trying to soothe your mind. he felt like he needed to ensure your safety, but he wanted to gift you comfort as well.
"don't you want to stay here instead?" you asked, pressing your cheek against his cheek. you knew he was weak to the look you gave him, if it meant you would get to lay next to him for a few more moments, you would use that to your advantage.
"everything is fine, don't worry about it.." you told him, scooting closer to his face. he closed his mismatched eyes, trying to dive into the soft kiss you pressed against his lips.
he slowly opened his eyes after you've pulled away and nuzzled against his neck. he yearned for your touch, your warmth. it was more important than air to him.
"you're right.. let's just stay in bed for a while longer.."
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Rengoku:
"good morning, love." Rengoku said, stepping out of the estate. you turned around to face him, not moving away from your place on the engawa.
he settled down next to you, a blanket an two cups in hand. you soon found yourself wrapped into the blanket, a cup of your favourite warm drink in hand.
Rengoku sat right next to you, his own cup in hand, the blanket loosely thrown over his own shoulders.
"i know you love watching the sunrise, but you'll grow sick if you sit here when it's so cold." Rengoku told you, using his right arm to wrap it around your side, pulling you against him gently.
"you don't need to worry about it, Kyo. i only wanted to stay for a moment." you answered, not expecting Rengoku to look at you with a knowing smile.
"i thought you had promised to wake me next time." he answered, seeing your cheeks flush lightly, you felt caught. you hadn't forgotten, he just slept through your tries.
"i tried, but you sleep like a bear..!" you countered, watching him laugh at your words. he gave you a big, loving smile, pressing a kiss against your temple.
"maybe we should work on that, but let's enjoy the sunrise first."
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Sanemi:
your head rested on his bare chest, it had become a habit at this point. he didn't like sleeping with a shirt in, giving you the perfect opportunity to sleep against the warmth of his skin.
both of you had been awake for a while now, his hand on your head. he lazily brushed his fingers through you hair, knowing you liked the goosebumps it created.
sometimes you wondered if this was really the epitome of his happiness, if he didn't want anything more in life.
"can I ask you something?" you quietly said, not hearing an answer from him, but feeling his hand stop. he rested it on the back of your neck, showing you that he was listening.
"are you happy like this..?" you asked, hearing him let out a quiet grumble. he finally snaked his arm around your body, pulling you closer against him - if that was even possible.
"what kind of stupid question is that? of course i'm happy when you're here, idiot." he answered, closing his eyes while he spoke.
you would never know, but he cherished the early morning hours with you, when there were no demons to slay and he could concentrate on you.
"i love you." he added, feeling like you needed some sort of confirmation. you chuckled upon hearing him, snuggling a bit closer to him. unbeknownst to you, your actions made a smile tug at his own lips.
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Giyuu:
the first thing you noticed was the chirping of small birds outside your window. then the beams of sunshine falling onto your face.
but most importantly, you felt your lover's eyes on you, his arms wrapped around your form, gently pressed against his body.
"good morning, love.." he muttered, feeling you stir awake. he brought a hand up to cup your face, gently stroking his thumb over your cheek.
"morning.." you yawned out quietly, bringing your hands up to rub over your eyes. you opened them to look up at him, a soft smile forming on your face.
"are you hungry? i could make us breakfast." you asked, already thinking of getting up, but Giyuu certainly didn't approve of that.
his arm wrapped around your torso, pulling you back down and burying his head into your hair, sighing when he took in the aroma of your shampoo.
"stay.. i want to hold you." he quietly spoke, his voice muffled by the curtain of your hair. you chuckled upon hearing him, nuzzling back into the bed - but most importantly against him.
"five more minutes won't hurt."
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Gyomei:
"wake up, honey." Gyomei quietly said, his big hand resting on your arm, gently shaking you awake. he stopped when he heard you yawn, sitting up slowly.
"morning.." you mumbled, letting yourself plop against the sitting man, a small smile appearing on your face when you heard him laugh.
"you're so tired, are you sure you're ready to stand up yet?" he asked, his smile widening when he felt you move more enthusiastically, your hands finding his.
"of course i am! i want to make the most out of your free day." you answered, fingers interlocking with his.
the contrast made him happy, he could probably crush your hands with his, but you trusted him nonetheless.
"what would you think of some breakfast? we could make it together." he responded, the happy gasp that left you already revealing your answer.
"let's get to it." you told him, letting go of his hands to kiss him on the cheek and crawl out of the bed.
how could he not follow you when you were this happy to spend time with him?
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whorelaud · 20 days ago
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꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 off limits ¡
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pairing brother's best friend¡nicholas chavez x fem¡reader
summary thinking you were messaging your friend, you accidentally sent your brother's best friend a thirsty paragraph about him, with Nicholas opening it before you get a chance to delete it. what you were not expecting was the leading conversation, causing realization to wash over you as he hints your desire is not one-sided after all.
contains suggestive, sexual tension, a bit of dirty talking, a brief kiss, flustered reader, cocky nic, hes also very freaky (uhh???)
a/n this is the silliest thing ive ever written i was giggling the whole time while writing it. likes and reblogs are v much appreciated!!!
word count 1.7k
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You: the amount of self control i have is insane because why do i not have this mans dick in my mouth rn please i need nic so fucking bad its not even funny anymore he is everything i want in life id let him use me any day morning afternoon n night im available ugh i dont even get the ick when its him he was acting like a dad earlier yelling at us to grill the meat right and it was so adorable ill call you daddy u want me to call u sir i dont kink shame im down for whatever king omg stop he got hurt earlier and he GROANED???? i almost fell to my knees YAHOOO he definitely whimpers #needthat 10/10 i just know its thick ooh tip pink shade #d97e77 thats insane till my knees are bruised and my throats scratched my panties fell tears are rolling down my thighs OMG PLS can you feel my pain hes so bodangshis how does my brother look at him and not wanna fuck him id be all over him if that was my friend gahhhd!!! hes actually so sweet he kept speaking to me earlier so i dont feel left out of the conversation and i find that adorable do u think he slaps it before he cums oh my his girlfriends so lucky im ab to put her in a headlock ahaha this is gross no man should have this much of an impact on u unless their dick is big and the sex is absolutely amazing yooo what he probably knows how to please a lady id be hard if i had a dick rn STOPP he has a happy trail im gonna lose it hahah lets find out where it leads i dont wanna think ab that im going crazy literally pulling my hair out that should be u baby GIVE ME A CHANCE?!!!! thinking ab him makes me so nervous this is getting a little too srs ahaha okay im sorry hows life?!? i miss u :(
Sending that message, you were anything but expecting the response you got in return, not from the man himself, that’s for sure.
nic: oh?
nic: i think you got the wrong person
You audibly gasp, realization washing over you as you read over the message. That was, in fact, not for Nicholas, nor was it for anyone but your friend to see.
You panic, putting your phone down to process what happened, needing a moment before responding. Right, you needed to do that.
But why did he see it so fast? He didn't even give you time to comprehend your message, the text switching to read in an instant.
Hell, it was midnight, and it’s been a long, tiring day for the both of you, having been out the whole afternoon, merely to come back to the hotel and spend more time with your other friends.
Everyone decided to end the night off early; early being a bit before midnight, with you heading to your room afterwards. Your brother and his best friend shared the room taking place next to yours, making it easy to reach out to him.
And for that, you were grateful since Nicholas was with him; meaning you got to see more of him throughout this trip.
You’ve had a crush on Nicholas for god knows how long, with it starting the moment your brother befriended him. You’ve technically gone through all the phases he experienced, hell, you saw him more than your own parents.
He was sweet, a little too sweet, perhaps it bothered you. Nicholas was very known among women, he knew how to attract a lady, showering her with praises until he eventually got what he wanted.
That made you extremely jealous, knowing you couldn't have him. He was forbidden, off-limits, someone you could only admire from afar.
And that stupid crush of yours led to this conversation, one you didn't want to discuss.
You: i didnt mean to send that to you
The text switched from delivered to read right away, causing your breath to catch in your throat.
nic: clearly
nic: i dont have a gf btw
Why did he feel the need to clarify that, and why were you relieved over hearing it?
You buried your face in your pillow, feeling heat reduce from your body. You’ve never been this embarrassed before, not around Nicholas. While you were weird sometimes, it was never this bad.
He wasn't supposed to know about this, nor discover it the way he did.
You: cover your eyes pls
You: this wasn't for u
nic: you sure?
nic: are there any other nics in your life?
Your stomach twisted at the message, hand coming up to cover your mouth as an audible gasp escaped your throat. How could he say that?
You felt all sorts of emotions wash over you, unable to process each one of them as you read the message over and over again.
You: what if there is
The question was risky, it could either end with him telling your brother, or him teasing you over it and brushing it off. Either way, you couldn't have him, so why not just fuck it and go with the flow?
nic: then that would be disappointing.
Your breath caught in your throat, vision going blurry as Nicholas’ bubble kept appearing and disappearing.
nic: id really hate that you feel this way about someone else
Oh my god, were you dreaming?
You could not believe your eyes. You turned off your phone, letting the dimness of the room seep through for a moment before you unlocked your device once again, heart skipping a beat when you realized it was real.
Nicholas, your brother’s best friend, might have been flirting with you, but that’s just in your head, right…?
You: ??? wdym
nic: you first
nic: was this about me, doll?
The pet name made you weak to your core, spiraling you over the edge as you put your phone down for a second. You took a deep breath, feeling your face heat up at how suggestive the boy sounded.
He sounded so desperate, you weren't sure if it was the tiredness, or him being genuine. Either way, you’re fucked, because you’re willing to do anything for him, even if it means breaking your heart.
You: what if it was
You: what will you do ab it
You felt nauseous as you waited for a response, groaning when the boy disappeared for a minute. Did you say something wrong? Why did he suddenly leave?
nic: then id risk it all
Speechless. Your mouth hung open, chest filling with lust as a breath heaved out of you.
You: are you saying this because you’re tired
nic: no
nic: god no
There was no ounce of self control in your body left. You almost screamed, overwhelmed by a new sense of emotions.
Is this how it felt? Because fucking hell.
You: it is
nic: it is what?
You: this is so embarrassing
You: why are you making me admit it you know exactly what im talking about
nic: baby
nic: jus tell me
You: no you suck im going to sleep
nic: WAIT no come here youre so cute
You blushed at the message, unable to suppress the smile forming on your lips. God, he’s such an idiot. And you were totally swooned for him.
You: i literally just sent you a message talking ab how much i wanna suck your dick what about that is cute
nic: oh? so you do admit it
You: …
You felt nervous, realizing how serious this has gotten. From a silly message turned into you contemplating whether this was a good idea. The last thing you were anticipating while typing that message was a confrontation, one from Nicholas; at that.
nic: you couldve told me yk
You: do you hear yourself
nic: ? what
You: nic you know this is wrong
You: youre gonna wake up tmr and forget all ab it
nic: you knkw
nic: yoirw so fucjinf hot
You came to a halt, noticing the amount of mistakes the boy was making. Your mind wandered somewhere else, feeling heat crawl past your neck, all the way to your face.
You: what are you saying
nic: fucking hell
nic: take the hint baby
You froze in your spot, tongue coming out to wet your lips, suddenly feeling heat travel to in between your legs. Don’t give in, don't give in, don’t give in.
You: what
nic: you couldve asked me if you were curious
nic: i wouldve happily showed you
That sent you over the edge. Your mind went fuzzy, unable to process the last few texts you received from Nicholas. He was being serious, dead serious, you were sure of that.
The texts you exchanged always revolved around your brother; usually Nicholas asking whether he was home or not. However, this one was different.
He was hinting something, something very risky that you were unable to resist.
You: dont say that
nic: what, you don't believe me?
You: nic
nic: give me five
You stared at the message on the screen, confused on what he meant. Your eyebrows furrowed with puzzlement, awaiting a message, merely to get nothing in return.
As you were about to shut your phone and go to sleep, it pinged, the notification startling you awake. You clicked on it immediately, mind going hazy as you read the message over and over again.
nic: open the door
nic: im outside your room
You didn’t hesitate as you got up, swiftly walking your way to the door. You unlocked it with haste, vision going blurry as you caught sight of Nicholas, who was standing inches away from you now.
He looked just as desperate as you were, maybe even more. And that was it, it was all you needed to pull him by the collar and cease the distance between you two.
The moment his lips collided with yours, you realized that maybe it’s worth ending up with a broken heart, because Nicholas tastes fucking addicting, and you found every way to make good use out of that obsession.
The possession of knowing he’s off limits, yet here he was, eagerly kissing you numb.
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fastandcarlos · 1 month ago
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Unexpected Pregnancy : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc
summary: your heart sinks as the positive sign appears, terrified to tell charles your unexpected news
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Everything felt as if it was crashing down around as your eyes landed on the positive mark in front of you. Immediately your mind thought of Charles, your stomach dropping as reality very quickly set in for you. 
A baby was the last thing that the two of you needed with how busy you were. Most weeks you were barely in the same country, your careers were in two completely different spots, and how you were ever going to be able to come together and raise a child was a question you couldn’t even begin to answer. 
You couldn’t help but worry about how Charles would react, terrified of what might come your way. Your heart raced as you heard him walking through the apartment, knowing you were about to deliver either the best news of his life, or the worst news. 
A gentle knock at the door pulled you away from your thoughts, Charles calling through to see if you were alright. He didn’t know what was going on, but as time continued to pass, he couldn’t help but worry that something was going on with you. 
“I’m just coming,” you sighed, placing the test into your back pocket before walking out, taking a hold of Charles’ hand and leading him over to the sofa. 
“What’s going on? What’s with the rush love?” Charles questioned, barely able to keep up with you as you hurriedly sat him down, deciding to sit with a little bit of distance between you both. 
It took you a moment to find your composure, unsure of the right thing to say or do. However when Charles rested his hand against your shoulder, you finally looked up and across at him. 
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, watching as Charles’ brows knitted together, eyes narrowing in on you in confusion as to what was going on. 
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, you’ve not done anything to hurt me, have you?” 
The silence that followed was worrying for Charles, beginning to fret. He couldn’t think of any reason for you to say sorry, frightened that something had happened though that he knew nothing about. 
“Talk to me, we can sort whatever the problem is,” Charles encouraged, his eyes desperately searching for yours in an attempt to reassure you. 
The confidence you originally had to tell Charles had well and truly disappeared, fighting with yourself as to whether you were doing the right thing anymore or not. 
You were unaware of the affects you were having on Charles either, his heart racing as he overthought everything. It was clear to him whatever was going on had had a huge impact on you, desperate to help try and fix whatever it was that was troubling you. 
“Love, I promise me you could tell me absolutely anything and we’d be able to get through it,” Charles calmly spoke, shuffling along the sofa that he was sat right beside you. “It could be the worst thing in the world, but I’m sure that we can work it out.” 
Your head shook back at Charles, “it’s not as easy as that Charles, I don’t know whether you’d even want to be with me after I tell you this.” 
“What?” He chuckled, “whatever it is, I’m still going to want to be with you.” 
Your free hand reached back, taking the test out and placing it on the table in front of you. “I’m pregnant Charles, we’re going to have a baby,” you muttered. 
“A baby?” Charles replied, his voice sounding full of enthusiasm. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been sat there thinking that I’ll leave you because you’re pregnant.” 
It was the complete opposite reaction from the one you were expecting, glancing to your left and seeing a wide smile on Charles’ face. He reached forwards and picked up the test, making sure that he got a good look at the positive mark for himself. 
“Why would you ever think I’d be upset about this?” Charles asked you, chuckling away to himself. “You know how much I want to have children with you.” 
“But it’s so much earlier than we wanted to,” you reminded him, “and we’re both so busy, you’re racing around the world, there’s so many things to think about Charles.” 
“I know, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t do it.” 
“You think we can?” You quizzed, almost sounding doubtful as to how you would make it work. “I’m worried Charles, I don’t want this to end up getting in the way of your career.” 
Admittedly, you might be settling down together sooner than Charles imagined, but Charles was confident you could make it work. He’d planned how a family would work out so many times in his head, thinking about all possible scenarios so when the time came, he was on it. 
“I get that it’s a bit scary suddenly finding this out, but we can do it,” Charles told you, squeezing against your hand. “I’m not mad, I’m excited, it’s going to be difficult, but we’ve never exactly made life easy for ourselves, have we? We’re used to doing things the tricky way.” 
“I don’t want to end up doing all of this alone though Charles, when you’re at work.” 
His head shook, refusing to let you panic about such a thing. “You’re my priority from now on, you’re having my baby after all.  I’m going to be here for you every second of the way, whether I’m here or on the other side of the world, I will always find a way to make sure I’m here for you.” 
It wasn’t just words of reassurance from Charles, you knew him well enough to know how much he meant it too. He didn’t care who he upset, he always did what he needed to do, and that was especially the case now that he knew that you were having his baby too. 
“I think I’m just in shock, I never imagined this happening so suddenly.” 
Charles nodded in agreement with you, it was a shock for him too, but he was sure that you would be able to do it once the shock had subsided. 
“Whenever you’re worrying or scared, I want you to tell me,” Charles smiled, pressing a kiss against the top of your head. “The last thing that you should be doing is going through this alone.” 
“I promise I’ll talk to you,” you replied, resting your head down against Charles’ shoulder. “I’m sorry I made you panic a little about what was going on. I just couldn’t find the words, and I was terrified as to how you’d react about it too.” 
Charles’ arm wrapped around your frame, “I get it, I’d be exactly the same. I’m just glad that you weren’t about to break up with me.” 
“I don’t think I’d ever be stupid enough to break up with you, even if I had the worst news in the world. I’d have to be out of my mind.” 
Charles chuckled as you spoke, “well, you know what they say about pregnant women and hormones, who knows what you’re going to be capable of over the next nine months.” 
“You sound scared to live with a pregnant woman.” 
“Oh, I am absolutely terrified!” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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aster-daydream404 · 8 months ago
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HELP GURL IVE BEEN IN THIS FANDOM FOR 4 YEARS ALREADY AND WDYM AHSJHAHAA
GURL THATS LITERALLY SNUFKIN CODED BYEEE RAGHSHWJAHSKXGJBG 😭😂😂😂
(/lh /t /aff /p)
born to be snufkin, forced to be moomintroll
(in love with my best friend)
#bestie bold of you to assume that snufkin isnt a stupid little lover boy HELP MEGWJSVDJFHJ /lh /aff#THIS ISNT MEANT TO BE MEAN OKAY ITS JUST HAKSHNWHDG#HELP GURL BESTIE PAL CHUM KING— SNUFKIN ISNT JUST A COOL CHILL DUDE WHO VIBES AHSJHSHAA#Gurlie WHO DO YOU THINK HE COMPOSES A NEW SPRING TUNE FOR EVERY YEAR-#GIRLIE IS SUCH A DISASTER THAT HE LEAVES MOOMINVALLEY EVERY WINTER AND DOESNT WANT MOOMIN TO COME ALONG BECAUSE RAGHWVJHSW THE FEELS ARE#TOO MUCH AND CANT HANDLE IT RHSIHAJAHWJWBDF#Pondering in his GAY LIL CAVE LIKE ‘i think about you all the time- I MEAN! I think about our summer adventures.’#LIKE HELP MEWHSKSHWJHW— AND MOOMIN *USED TO* HAVE A GIRLFRIEND#AKA SNORKMAIDEN#AND LIKE THEIR WHOLE THING WAS MORE OF A CHILDHOOD PLAY THING BUT ALSO HETERONORMITIVE EXPECTATIONS#ITS SO FUNNY THE YEARNING-#GURL ‘did you check his room?’ ‘of course <3’ like its natural like HELP HELLO?!?!?#THIS BOY IS DOWN BAD BUT HIS FEAR OF SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY DUE TO HIS WANT FOR FREEDOM AS WELL AS DURING THE TIME IN THE EARLIER SEASONS#MOOMIN WAS WITH SNORKMAIDEN AND THEY ACT ALL LOVEY DOVEY TOGETHER?#LIKE BROOO BAJSHJWHWJDHDF#OMG LIKE HES SO SCARED OF BEING FORGOTTEN— SPECIFICALLY BY MOOMINTROLL#LIKE- AHSJSBWJHDNFHK#WHAT I MEAN IS THIS IS NOT AN ATTACK BUT LIKE GIRL THAT IS SUCH A SNUFKIN SITUATION#ESPECIALLY WHEN DECIDING TO NOT SPEAK UP ABT YOUR FEELINGS BC YOUR BEST FRIEND WHOM YOU YEARN FOR IS IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE?#GURL THAT IS MORE SNUFKIN THAN YOU EVEN REALIZE#snufmin#snufkin#moomin#moomintroll#moominvalley#source here is mostly moominvalley 2019
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holybibly · 30 days ago
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♡ 𝔓𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: Boxer San x ring girl reader x Sugar daddy Seonghwa ♡ 𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You know that being alone with San is like willingly entering a tiger's cage, but maybe that's exactly what you want - to be torn to pieces by him. Or you might help San treat his wounds after a tough fight, even though you know Seonghwa won't approve ♡ 𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 / 𝔄𝔲 / 𝔗𝔯𝔬𝔭𝔢: smut, boxing club!au, sugar daddy!au, underground life!au ♡ ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI ♡ 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 14 k ♡ 𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Hard dom! San, hrad/soft daddy Seonghwa, sub!reader, unprotected sex, threesome, daddy kink, lots of sperm, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, spanking, hair pulling, squirting, creampie, humiliation, breeding kink, boobs spanking, pussy slapping, dirty talk, face fucking, pussy drunk, overstimulation, oral, double penetration, manhandling, multiple orgasms, сreampie, rough sex, rough oral, power play, praise kink, anal fingering, anal play, wet and dirty, explicit sexual content, explicit language, and more. ♡ 𝔫𝔢𝔱: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity @newworldnet ♡ 𝔄|𝔑: For some reason this has taken longer to write than expected, but as I like to say: I am always worth the wait. I decided to split it into two parts. I hope you will get maximum pleasure, my sugar bunnies ♡ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 at the end of the post.
𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖉
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Tonight was no different from a dozen other nights at the club. And just like on every other night, you were sure that Choi San was going to leave the boxing ring as the ultimate champion. In truth, it was almost as predictable as the change of seasons. After all, San was the best of the best in the club, but the one thing you couldn't predict was how badly he would get hurt during his fight today. 
San rarely got more than a few obnoxiously looking scratches and abrasions here and there, unlike his opponents, whom the hot, fiendishly handsome boxer would mercilessly turn in the boxing ring into a bloody mess. He was harsh and rough and usually ended the fight before the first round was out, but this time something didn't seem to be going according to plan. 
You watched anxiously as the fight went on, noting the way San spat blood out of his split lip and the way his nose wrinkled up in pain as Wooyoung pressed a damp towel to his dissected eyebrow. There were a lot of scratches and abrasions on his handsome, chiselled face—injuries that you knew he could feel and that he could taste. For a moment, you even wondered if San was going to win this fight, especially when you caught sight of the equally worried-looking Yeosang. 
The blonde, handsome boxer was sinking his teeth into his lower lip, nervously clutching the bloody towel Wooyoung had thrown him after wiping the blood from San's face. His hazel fox eyes were focused on everything that was happening in the ring. Your level of anxiety rose almost to the sky when they heard San's muffled, hoarse groan as his opponent's first flew in under his rib. It made him recoil and go on the defensive. Damn it, he was practically knocked out. 
You couldn't believe what was happening; the crowd was roaring around you, and all you could hear over the overwhelming noise were Wooyoung's loud shouts telling San to get his shit together and show what he could do, and Yeosang's encouraging words, which were much softer and nicer to hear than Woo's profanity. God, you loved him, but he was unnecessarily rude at times; the boy clearly had an attitude. You have no idea what it was that had such an effect on San, but the next second he was throwing a series of sharp, powerful punches that knocked his opponent out. 
It happened so suddenly that you didn't even have time to react as Yeosang scooped you up in his arms and whirled you around, shouting in your ear, "Our boy did it again." And yes, your boy had definitely done it again, just as Seonghwa had predicted earlier in the night before he slapped you on the backside and sent you off to work: "My tiger never loses.
As soon as all the commotion in the main hall had died down and you were able to free yourself from Yeosang's tenacious and tight embrace, you went straight to the backstage area to find San. You had to make sure that he was alright, and in the meantime, you had to congratulate him on another victory. After all, San was the main star of the evening and deserved a nice word or two from you, even if things weren't exactly smooth between the two of you. 
It wasn't that you didn't like him or that you had conflicts; no, he was a nice enough guy, if you could put it that way. Maybe you could even put up with his perpetual cheeky grin and his complete lack of filters if it wasn't for the heavy sexual tension that crackled between you like electricity. 
It was no secret that San found you fuckable and wanted to have sex with you, as he reminded you every time you spoke to him. He was always shamelessly eye-fucking you, with a total disregard for any decency or the presence of Seonghwa around you. Maybe you wouldn't have noticed; after all, you were used to the fact that all the boys in the club had pretty sharp edges and dirty mouths, if it wasn't for your attraction to him. 
Sometimes you find it so hard to resist the urge to kiss him or ride his cock. Especially after you caught him fucking one of the ring girls in the changing room after another fight. You literally froze in the doorway as you watched him pulling her hard and deeply on his cock, looking right at you with a devilish grin on his face. His whole look seemed to be screaming at you: "It could have been you." That night, you had to ask Seonghwa to be a lot more brutal and rough with you in order to calm that annoying itch of jealousy that was inside of you. Maybe, just maybe, San was absolutely right. You wanted to be in her shoes, but you'd never admit it to yourself, let alone to San. 
"San!" You call out the dark-haired, handsome man's name, noting his slim figure in the hustle and bustle of the backstage area. He turns his head slightly in your direction as he interrupts his conversation with Mingi, another smoking hot and unacceptably handsome boxer. Mingi has only recently joined the club but has already made a name for himself both in the ring and between the sheets. If the rumours are true, he fucks as well as smears his opponents on the floor. Like San, he has never been defeated, if that means anything. San gives you a licentiously grin and gazes at your figure with a dark, hungry stare before he gives Mingi a friendly pat on the shoulder and begins to walk in your direction. 
He reminds you of a great big cat of prey—elegant and graceful, but also so deadly. San is literally smouldering with sexuality, with all those seductive muscles and all that overbearing aura that literally draws the eyes of others to his person. His gym shorts hang so dangerously low that you can see a subtle, exquisite tattoo on his pronounced V-line. San is still shirtless—sweaty and dirty, the inky purple bruises already beginning to spread beneath the smooth golden skin of his pumped-up chest, and you swear you're looking precisely at them and not at the way the silver piercings in his nipples glisten. 
As soon as he is next to you, your hands automatically go up to his wounded face and gently wrap the palms of your hands around it, turning his head from side to side so that you can see the extent of his injuries. San just grins, lets you do whatever you want to him, and looks at you with heavy bedroom eyes. You look beautiful, fuckable, and fucking attractive. It's even funny the way his body immediately reacts to your presence next to him, his cock starting to tighten under the fabric of his gym shorts. 
Or is it all the residual adrenaline that is still circulating in his bloodstream after tonight's fight? Who knows? 
As the pad of your thumb presses against the deep cut on his lower lip, San hisses like a cat. 
"You should get those wounds attended to. They don't look well.' Your voice is full of concern as you continue to run your fingers carefully over the abrasions and scratches on his face. The smooth, golden skin of his sharp, high cheekbones was irritated, and purple bruises were beginning to form underneath. You could even see tiny drops of clotted blood where it had been torn. But even with all that, San still looked pretty damn attractive, which was almost a crime in your opinion. 
"You're so worried about me, baby doll, huh? How about you give me a kiss to make it all better?' San cheekily wraps his strong arms around your waist and pulls you close to his hot body, so unacceptably close that your breasts are pressed tightly against his naked muscular chest, and you have to stand up on your tiptoes so that you can face him. "I want my victory kiss, baby." San whispers in a sultry, hoarse voice into your skin, his hot, moist breath flowing over your cheeks, and from this a shameful, excited blush spreads across them. His hands slipping from your waist to wrap them around your buttocks instead, gripping them tightly with the palms of his hands and causing your already short satin shorts to rise even higher. 
You swallow unconsciously as the image of him fucking that girl in the changing room comes back to you, just like that, squeezing her buttocks in his hands as she rode on his cock. 
'Get a room.' One of the staff members shouts, and you're jolted out of your mental stupor in an instant, resting your hands on San's strong shoulders and moving slightly away from him to create some semblance of space between your bodies. 
"I'm being serious, San. If you don't, there'll be infection in your wounds.' You insist, wriggling slightly in his strong grip. He's still so damned close to you, you can feel his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes. 
You can smell the faint scent of sandalwood and vanilla on his skin, still hot from the fight, damp and glistening with sweat and oil. San squeezes your buttocks once hard with his hands before he begins to knead the plump, soft flesh in the palms of his hands, and you practically moan at it, barely managing to sink your teeth into your lower lip in time to keep the shameful, lingering sound from escaping your throat. 
"I've seen this before and it was disgusting, you don't want scars on your pretty face, do you? I can get Wooyoung or Yeosang to help, or one of the girls..." You babble on as his hands continue to massage your bottom. San has the good conscience to look completely disinterested in what you're saying - his head is tilted sideways, his feline eyes dark and smouldering with desire, and you notice the tip of his tongue tracing his swollen lower lip. His nose wrinkles slightly as he touches the fresh wound. 
"Pretty face, huh?" San gave you a cheeky grin and deep, sweet dimples appeared on his cheeks, which, to be honest, you hated because it made you feel completely weak and soft in the face of his charms. The contrast between how vulgar and coarse he was when he talked and how soft and gentle his dimples were when he smiled just made you go crazy. Damned you, Choi San, you and your stupid, attractive dimples. "You could just kiss that pretty face; I'm sure your slutty, sweet lips could do it better, couldn't you, baby doll?' He tilted his head to the side as if pondering something before a devilish spark flashed in his cat-like, slanted eyes, which, as you know, doesn't bode well for you. "But if you're so worried about me, dollface, why don't you do it yourself? I'm sure you'll give me professional service." 
There is some context to his words, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out what San is alluding to. The time how efficiently you sucked Yunho's huge thick dick, after his fight, but it happened to be randomised, and you weren't in the habit of screwing every boxer in the club, especially after you started dating Seonghwa, or rather after he made you his sugar baby. 
"You jerk..." You nudge him lightly in the shoulder and purse your glossy pink lips in a resentful pout. 'You don't have to be so rude to me." You practically squeal as San suddenly picks you up under your arse and lifts you up in such a way that you have no choice but to wrap your legs around his slender, slutty waist. Your arms are automatically wrapped around his neck, and your faces are in an unacceptably close proximity to each other. Someone whistles loudly, but you don't pay attention. You're too mesmerised by the deep chocolate colour of San's eyes and the way his long, fluffy eyelashes flutter. 
"You don't know how rougher I can get with you, Dollface, but I can assure you that you're going to love every second of it. In fact, I'm pretty sure you'll be coming back to me for more of it." His lips touch the hot, flushed skin on the side of your cheek, and you give a soft moan as his fingers dig into your buttocks. 
"You are too cocky for your own good, and I already have someone else to fuck.' You argue weakly, unconsciously tangling your fingers in his soft dark hair, causing San to blissfully cover his eyes as if he were a cat that had been petted by his owner.
"Oh, believe me, I know who's fucking you, angel." He emphasises the nickname, knowing full well that's what Seonghwa likes to call you. "And I don't mind sharing you if it means I can finally get my dick in that pussy of yours." San is practically purring; the sound of his deep, seductive voice is vibrating in his chest, and you can feel it in your body. "I know you want it as much as me. Do you remember when you caught me in the changing room with that girl? I had you on my mind, baby doll, and while I was fucking her, I was thinking about your sweet pussy squeezing around my cock. All I could think of was how you were squirting on my face as I fucked your tiny hole with my tongue.' 
'San! How much longer are we going to wait for you?" A loud scream from Wooyoung brings you back to reality, and your eyes widen as you finally realise where you and San are at the moment and how his filthy words plunged you into a state of trance. Shit, you should use your head and start thinking with your brain instead of your cunt. 
But it's so hard to do that when San is a walking threat to your restraint and decency. It was easy for you to imagine all the things he'd just been talking about, and that slutty, dirty, yet seductive image made the delicate folds of your pussy wet.
"I'll be there in a minute!" San calls back, lowering you gently to your feet and eventually removing his hands from your body. You immediately take a few steps back, still a little stunned by your interaction with him. But San doesn't seem to want to let you out of his arms, so he wraps his palms around your face and forces you to look at him. "Listen to me, babydoll; be a good girl and wait for me in my room. Got it? I'll try and get back to you as soon as I can." For a moment you feel the soft, warm touch of his lips on your forehead, almost making you melt, but it disappears as quickly as it came.
'But...' You begin, wondering what you should do, knowing that if you're alone with San, nothing good will come of it, and besides, you already had plans for tonight. 'I don't know if I should...' 
"Baby, I didn't ask you." He turns and starts walking towards Wooyoung and the other boys waiting for him. As if he remembered something, San stops abruptly, looks back at you over his shoulder, and grins mischievously. 
"You still have to treat my wounds, doll face, remember? You don't want any scars on my pretty face, do you?" San casts a last dark, hungry glance over your body before bossy ordering you. "Now go, doll. Daddy will be back soon."
And he walks away, leaving you staring in his wake, your head a complete mess and your pussy absolutely wet and trembling with anticipation. 
Shit, you seem to have a problem, and its name is Choi San. 
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For the umpteenth time recently, you find yourself looking at the large wall clock in San's private room. The smooth mechanical movement of the long time hand on the dial is unnerving, and the slight, intrusive ticking is annoying. It does nothing to calm your inner nervousness at all; on the contrary, it makes it even more obvious. You bite down on the pad of your thumb, a stupid, almost childish habit that you can't seem to get rid of, and fidget in the soft leather seat of the massive armchair that you've settled into while you wait for San. It's been over an hour since you and he parted ways, and it looks like the handsome boxer is in no hurry to get back to you soon. 
You don't know if he's doing it on purpose—torture you by making you sit here and obediently wait for him like the return of Jesus—or if he's really busy with some business, but one thing you were absolutely sure of—San knew very well that you had to be somewhere else tonight, or rather with someone else. And it was not good for you at all that you were still not warming Seonghwa's luxurious silk bed in his mansion with your naked body. Maybe your relationship with Seonghwa wasn't right and romantic, but you didn't want to lose him, and there was something special about him—dark and magnetic and lecherous—that made you addicted to him. And it wasn't just his money or that absolutely amazing long tongue he used to expertly and efficiently fuck your pussy every night until you whimpered and begged him to stop.
But to deny how much you wanted San to fuck your brains out was just a stupid thing to do. And you knew firsthand that San could take you straight to heaven. After all, he was not only Fight Club's golden boy but also had a golden cock he knew how to use perfectly.  
You were so deep in thought, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time, that you almost didn't notice when the heavy front door opened and San walked into the room. As always, his presence brings with it that intense, suffocating aura of power and smouldering sexuality and that raw, almost animal magnetism of his nature that draws you to him on some inexplicable, instinctive level, making you focus all your attention on him immediately. 
"Don't make such a sweet face, baby. It just makes me want to kiss you more than I already do..." San purrs sultrily as he stretches out on the leather couch in front of you. Leaning his head back as he covers his cat-like eyes and adds hoarsely, barely whispering. 'Or fuck this lovely plump mouth...' 
"Can you be nice to me for once?' You purse your rose-coloured plump lips reluctantly, and you look at his figure with a frown. He's still just as sweaty and dirty as you've seen him before, but now his bruises have taken on a darker hue, spreading purple and dark blue ink under his damp, golden skin. 
It looks really painful and unpleasant, and even with the way he's treating you, you don't want San to get hurt, so you sigh heavily, reminding yourself that you really don't have time for all this drama, and get up from your seat to walk over to the small dresser where San keeps his first aid kit, and grab some alcohol, ointment, and bandages from there to help treat the wounds. 
A silence hangs between the two of you for a few seconds, more tense than uncomfortable, but it's not that that makes you stop what you're doing; it's what San is saying to you. 
"But you do have a taste for rough treatment, don't you, angel?" He emphasises your nickname again, pronouncing it like it's some kind of dirty swear word, and you could swear you can hear the venomous notes in his usually honeyed, smooth voice. 
You turn your head over your shoulder and take in the sight of San, now looking at you from under his dishevelled, damp fringe with eyes so dark and intense you feel uncomfortable and quickly turn away, continuing to rummage through the first aid kit for ointment. 
"This is different, San, and you know it very well." When you finally find the ointment you need, you slam the first aid kit down harder than necessary and turn to face him again. San is still drilling into you with his gaze as he pokes the tip of his tongue into the corner of his bruised, plump lower lip, his mouth curling up slightly as he accidentally touches the deep fissure. The plush, soft flesh was horribly red and swollen where it had been torn, but San still looked hot as hell.
"Come on, doll, just say it; you let him treat you like this because he's fucking you."
You swallow the sharp words that are on the tip of your tongue and decide that today is not the day to poke the tiger with a stick. Instead, you just walk over to him, stand between his spread long legs, and with exaggerated roughness, wrap your arms around his chin, lifting his face slightly so that he's looking at you. With deliberate pettiness, you press an alcohol-soaked cotton ball to his split eyebrow without any previous tenderness. He hisses and wrinkles against the burning sensation as the alcohol penetrates deep into the wound, disinfecting it in the process. 
"And who's the rough one now, huh, baby doll?" His hands curl around your hips, and his fingers dig into the juicy, soft flesh where your tiny shorts end—just below your ample buttocks. His touch is a little bit painful, a little bit too possessive for your taste, but still you can't say that you don't like it. You hate to admit what San's right about you—you like it rougher, especially in the bedroom.
"I'm just paying you with the same coin, Sannie." You press the cotton ball even harder against the swollen, deep cleavage and pull the hoarse, hissing sound out of his chest once more. 'That's how you're going to get treated for being so...' You start, but San doesn't let you finish, abruptly pulling you closer by your hips, forcing you to take a step forward to keep yourself from falling on top of him. 
"So handsome, so hot, so sexy..." San enumerates as he slides his hands up your thighs until the big palms of his hands are completely around your buttocks, greedily squeezing the supple, meaty flesh. 
'Brute.' You finish, and finally remove the cotton wool soaked in alcohol from his wound to put some ointment on it in its place. You try to ignore the way San looks at you with his heavy bedroom eyes. He sensually kneads your arse in his palms while you gently apply the ointment to his dissected eyebrow with the cotton bud. "And would you stop pawing at my bum for just a second, please?" "If that's what you really want, sweetheart." San purrs sensuously as he looks at you through the lace of his long eyelashes with the dark, seductive gaze of his slanted cat eyes. Despite his words, he doesn't stop caressing you; instead, he digs his fingers deeper into your ample buttocks and pulls them apart slightly, causing you to let out a low, barely audible moan. He doesn't say anything about it, but judging by the way the corners of his plump lips lift up in a dirty, smug grin, revealing sweet, deep dimples on his cheeks, it's exactly the reaction he was hoping for from you. 
You decide to just ignore it, in the full knowledge that San is doing this on purpose to provoke you. Instead, you focus all of your attention on cleaning his wounds as thoroughly as you possibly can and applying salve to each one. Silence falls between you again, punctuated by San's slight cat hissing as you press the alcohol-soaked cotton ball against the particularly deep cuts on his handsome, chiselled face as you continue to carefully remove the dried blood and dirt from them. 
Surprisingly, as it turns out, cleaning someone else's wounds is a very intimate process—you're too close together, so close that you can feel the heat emanating from his body, the sliding, damp warmth of his breath on your bare skin, the weight of his dark, feline gaze fixed on your heaving breasts, which almost fall out of your exaggeratedly deep cleavage with every breath you take. 
You would think that after all this time with San you would be used to how heavy and almost palpable the sexual tension between you was, but today there was something else in the air besides lingering pure desire. There was a subtle change in the air; small electrical charges crackled in space, as if an inescapable tempest was approaching. The storm was on its way, and you weren't sure if you would be able to survive it, especially with the way your body was responsively reacting to San.
The longer this goes on, the harder it will be for you to control the viscous, searing sensation of excitement that's spreading through your body and becoming more and more tangible to you with each passing second.
You have already been so wet for him—the warm, viscous moisture pools between your legs and coats your folds in a clear, sticky glaze. And it won't come as a surprise to you at all if you see a big wet spot on your silk panties, from how much your pussy is oozing at the moment.
You're almost done with the treatment of his wounds; all you have to do is clean the deep cut on his lower lip, and then you can finally get out of here and hurry back to Seonghwa. You gently lift his face by his chin to make it a little more comfortable for you to do so, when all of a sudden San grabs hold of your wrist.
"Kiss me." His words take your breath away; a palpable shiver runs through your whole body, and you squirm a little under the intensity of his gaze. 
'Sorry, what?' You're stupidly questioning you., hoping that San will reduce it to a cheeky, dirty joke as he always does, but it doesn't happen. 
"You heard me clearly, Y/N." San's voice is full of an emotion you can't quite describe, but whatever it is, it makes your pussy clench in anticipation. 
"San, I...you know I can't do that."
'Just one kiss, Gongjunim. Just one.' He tilts his head slightly to the side and looks at you with those seductive, heavy, bedroom eyes of his. San squeezes your wrist even tighter, pulling you closer to him until his face pressed against your belly. "Come on, doll face, give me a kiss. Think of it as rewarding me for winning. Don't you think the winner deserves a kiss?' His purring voice sends electric charges in your lower abdomen, triggering feelings that you're not sure you're ready to deal with at the moment. "Just one kiss...' San begins plants wet, short kisses on the strip of bare skin between your short top and your shorts. 
You're completely silent for a few moments, mentally weighing the pros and cons as San continues to plant wet, insistent, open-mouthed kisses on the soft skin of your stomach. A slight shiver of excitement runs down your spine as you feel him slowly run his tongue over the places where the hickeys he's left behind, his lingering, dissolute kisses, and which you're sure Seonghwa won't be happy to see on you, have already started to turn purple. 
But even so, you don't try to stop him, and you let San do whatever he wants. You know that he won't let go of you so easily for this once, and that he can be so stubborn when he wants something badly or needs something certain, and maybe, just maybe, right now you need the same thing as San. All this tension between you was so palpable that you could almost taste it on your tongue—a little bit bitter, a little bit sweet, sharp and lingering, like a kiss after hot sex. 
Just one kiss... what could be wrong with that? You're just going to taste it; you're convincing yourself. Just let it taste...
"Okay.' You say at last, and you feel his lips curl up in a victorious grin. 
He pulls his handsome face away from your belly and lifts his languid, feline gaze to you. And you hate the way it makes you catch your breath every time, as far as intense and dark his gaze is. San's eyes are predator's eyes—sharp, hungry, and burning; they're the eyes of a big cat on the hunt. A tiger's eyes, having found its prey. Eyes that you will never be able to forget. His lips are parted a little, and before he can say a word, you are one step ahead of him.
"Just one kiss, San. Nothing more. Do you have my meaning?" You wish that your voice would sound more demanding, but instead there's an uncertainty and a slight nervousness in it that is just as clear to San as it is to you. "I'm serious, San, one kiss." It's practically stupid, and you're not at all sure whether you're saying it to San or to yourself. 
'Whatever you want, my angel.' He leans back on the back of the couch, relaxed, with a smug grin on his face. There it is again—that damn nickname—what's a jerk after all. "Come on, Dolly, come to me." San runs the broad palms of his hands over his muscular, luscious thighs, letting you know exactly where he wants you to be. You let out a heavy sigh and, irritated, toss the cotton ball full of alcohol and the rest of the ointment into the bin next to the couch before you awkwardly sit down on his lap.
As soon as you are sitting on San's lap, his hands are on your waist, digging their fingers into the soft flesh and squeezing it roughly, only to pull you even closer to him. So close that there is almost no space between your bodies. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, the warm, thick smell of perfume and smoke enveloping you and settling in your lungs with every breath you take, and before you know what you're doing, you're pressing your hips harder against his crotch, feeling how hard San has already been for you. 
Your hands automatically come to rest on his naked, muscular chest, and you dig your nails into it lightly, leaving angry red crescent marks on his moist, sun-kissed skin. San mooed in satisfaction, welcoming the painful sensation of your nails on his body, and you almost groaned in response. Just when you thought he couldn't get any hotter, Choi San rushed over to prove that the opposite was true. 
"Are you happy now?" You want to sound annoyed and displeased, pouting your plump lips, which are shining with a thick, candy pink gloss, and rolling your eyes at him. But the way San looks at you, the way his hands lazily caress the curve of your waist and hips, makes you practically tremble with excitement, making you fold like origami for him. Why does he have to be so... so damn hot? Your skin burns under his touch, and the viscous, sticky wetness between your legs becomes more intense by the minute. 
"I'm more than happy, doll. But don't pretend it's just me; it's about time you admitted you want this as much as I do. You like it all, my little slutty angel. Don't you?" San purrs sultrily and pushes his hips up a little, causing a deep, long moan to escape from your throat. His hard cock touches your aching clit as he moves against you, pressing his crotch harder against your clothed pussy. 
And frankly, your skimpy shorts and the thin silk panties you wore especially for Seonghwa today do little to diminish the sharp sensation of pleasure coursing through you. Unconsciously, you move your hips to him and rub your pussy against his cock, desperate for more of this delightful stimulation. The contact has been so pleasurable that your hole is clenching around nothing, spurting out even more of your juices and making you moan once more.
"It turns out that all I had to do to get you to moan for me was to put you on my lap." San slaps you hard on the plump buttock and squeezes it together roughly with his big, wiry hand. "Too easy." There's so much arrogance and smugness in his voice that it makes you want to punch him right in the face. 
'No, it's not...' Even to yourself, what you're saying sounds completely meaningless. You look at his chiselled face, perfect except for the cut marks and a few small bruises, at those bold, plump lips that are stretched in a devilish grin, at those sweet dimples, and at those damn seductive cat eyes, full of lust and desire. And now San looks more attractive to you than ever—dangerously attractive. So much so that it almost makes you forget about Seonghwa... 
"What did I tell you about that sweet expression on your face?' San growls in a low voice. One of his hands grabs you roughly by the back of the head and suddenly pulls you closer to him than you ever thought possible, almost pushing your faces into each other. "You are driving me crazy; do you know that, doll?' He presses his forehead against yours, and your lips are only a millimetre apart. His palm squeezes your neck in a possessive way, and the sound that comes out of you is something between a sob and a moan. The sudden, abrupt movement causes you to press even harder against his cock, and the sensation sends a pulse of pleasure through your clit. 
 Before you have a chance to answer him, San's soft lips are meeting yours in an insistent, hungry kiss. His mouth is so aggressive and demanding; his tongue glides over your lower lip and presses against it. His fingers dig into your neck, turning the touch into a rough grip, holding you in place, but there's no need; you already feel so soft and supple to him that you willingly lean into him, wrapping your arms around his strong neck and tangling your fingers in his thick hair, gently pulling the soft strands at the roots. The deep, vibrating moan that San lets out reminds you of the contented purr of a huge cat. 
His skilful tongue forces your lips apart and quickly penetrates the inside of your mouth, and you shudder at the sensual sensation as he runs it over your palate, licking the inside of your cheeks and wrapping it around your own tongue. It must look disgusting from the outside—the kiss is rough and dirty, full of tongues and teeth, but you're enjoying it immensely and moaning lustfully against San's lips at the hot need growing inside you. 
That's all... Hell, you don't even know how to put it into words. You've been wanting to kiss San ever since you saw him for the first time in the club—dishevelled, hot, all sweaty and battered after his first victorious fight, but so impossibly attractive. You wanted to do it tonight, right after the referee announced that he'd won, and San smiled at you dazzlingly, showing you those sweet, deep dimples you'd always secretly wanted to lick. And you want to kiss him every damn time he's within arm's length of you. Hell, you want to kiss him all the time, over and over again, until you finally satisfy that hunger that's gnawed at your insides for so long. 
San pulls your plump lower lip into his moist, warm mouth and gives it a rough sucking before he lets it go with a loud 'pop'. His tongue immediately licks your ajar lips, coating them with his saliva, and it's just unbearable. How on earth are you going to get away from him when he kisses you like that? 
"Look at you, Dolly, you're savouring this so much. I bet your sweet, tight cunt is so wet right now. Isn't it?" San whispers in a husky voice before he runs his tongue over your lips once more. "Don't you want to run away from me yet, angel?"
'Just shut up.' You hiss at him before you let him pull you into another kiss that is even deeper and dirtier than the last. Your hips are rocking back and forth, and you are rubbing your needy pussy against his hard cock as San is literally fucking your mouth with his skilful tongue.
You're furious with him. And you're angry that San is absolutely right about you—you love the whole damn thing, so much so that your pussy flows like a waterfall for him, ready and needing him to fill it with his cock and cum until it pours out of you. But most of all, you're angry with yourself, which makes you roll your hips over him even more aggressively and makes you both moan into each other's mouths. 
You know that you shouldn't be here, you know that this is going to end badly, and you have absolutely no time to sit on San's lap and let him explore your mouth with his tongue while you dry hump him—and yet you can't bring yourself to leave. Not in the slightest bit. Your willpower is nothing compared to Choi San.
San begins to kiss you even more furiously, biting your lips almost to the point of bleeding. He's so passionate—he licks your mouth with his tongue and literally shoves it down your throat, making it almost impossible for you to breathe. He kisses you like he's dying of thirst, and you're the only way he can fix it. And if San eats pussy the same way he kisses you now, you're not sure you can handle it at all.
Your phone suddenly beeps, alerting you to a new message, and the obnoxious, loud sound finally brings you to your senses. You pull away from San's tantalising, greedy lips, trying to catch your breath and get your thoughts straightened out as he continues to kiss your cheeks and chin lazily. 
"I have to go now.' You say softly, to which San just mooed in agreement, as if to say, 'Go on, I won't hold you back', but his lips never leave your skin for a second, and his broad, slightly calloused palm still grips your neck tightly from behind. "I shouldn't be here with you... Seonghwa... he's waiting for me at home, you know." You sound so weak, and to be honest, not convincing even to yourself, let alone San, and the handsome boxer doesn't try to make it easier for you. 
He lets go of your neck just long enough to run his fingers over your flushed, pretty face before wrapping them tightly around your chin and tilting your head slightly to the side so that your eyes meet his slanted, feline eyes that are clouded with lust. His gaze is so intense, so searing, that it makes you want to turn away from him. San is looking at you as if he's watching how his fingers are penetrating you, slowly and deeply, stretching your tight hole while you're languidly jerking him off. It's an intimate gaze, too palpably sexual. 
San lets out a dark chuckle, full of the most lewd and dirty promises, as he presses his fingers against the edges of your mouth before squeezing it until your plump lips form a silly "duck" shape. A smug, victorious expression was frozen on his face, and he poked the tip of his tongue into the corner of his swollen lips. You can't say a word; all your thoughts are scattered into the dark corners of your mind like cockroaches when a light is turned on.
"I guess you're already late, baby." Genuine amusement glitters in his eyes, and he lets go of you, instead leaning back on the back of the couch as if he were a king. Such an abrupt change in his behaviour is a source of confusion to you.
'What are you...' You don't have time to finish your sentence before the door to the room flings open, letting in the sound of loud, cheerful voices and the deafening roar of music. You almost have the urge to snap at the person who has dared to interrupt your moment with San, but instead you freeze as the room is again engulfed in silence and the only thing you can hear is the clicking sound of high heels and the thunderous beating of your heart echoing in your ears. You freeze like a deer in the headlights as you realise who those high heels belong to, and judging by the devilishly smug grin on San's face, you're not wrong in your guess. 
"Ah, there you are, my beautiful little angel...' Seonghwa's purring voice is nothing more than solid darkness wrapped in velvet, and the sound of it sends goosebumps up your arms and makes everything inside of you twist into a tight knot of fear and excitement. 
Your senses are a mess, and you're torn between wanting to burst into tears and wanting to rub your cunt against San's cock again, even more desperate now that Seonghwa's appearance has unleashed a new wave of lust in you, even more intense than before. God, the way your body is reacting to the presence of this man next to you is simply beyond any explanation. It was so wild and yet so exhilarating, and perhaps deep down inside you were a complete masochist as you took such incredible pleasure out of it all.
Your nightmare was coming true as he walked leisurely towards you and San, his hands in the pockets of his designer trousers, causing the hem of his luxurious, expensive fur coat to flutter open, revealing the translucent top that covered his torso like a second skin. If San had made you feel like a frightened bunny cornered by a predator, then Seonghwa made you feel like some kind of dark deity was keeping his all-seeing eye on you. 
You were completely frozen in your seat—practically out of breath, still in the same compromising position—your pussy pressed tightly against San's thick, hard cock through your clothes as his hand continued to sensuously knead your plump, juicy buttocks. 
When Seonghwa is at arm's length from you, deceptively gentle, he runs his fingers through your hair before he tangles his fingers in the long, silky strands and jerks your head backwards, causing you to arch your back and let out a long, hard moan. Damn, you love it when he's so bossy and rough with you.
"Or are you nothing more than a fucking needy slut today, eh? Look at you, keeping your daddy waiting while you rub your slutty cunt all over San's cock." You gasp at the deliciously painful sensation of his fingernails lightly scraping the skin of your scalp as he pulls harder on the long, silky strands of your hair. To be honest, you don't know how to answer him, or rather, what kind of answer would satisfy Seonghwa, so you just remain silent, sinking your teeth into your kiss-swollen lower lip and looking up at him with big, clouded with desire eyes.
"Oh, she is definitely the ultimate slut. You missed a lot, Hwa; the way she rode me just a few minutes ago was quite a sight. And her sweet cunt is soaking wet; I can feel it even through her shorts and panties. I have no doubt that her tight little hole is literally dripping with slime right now." San purrs and slaps your bottom hard, making the soft, plump flesh jiggle, and you whimper pitifully at the sharp, tingling sensation of the burn on your tender skin. Even if you are not in the best position now, a hot wave of dark pleasure washes over your entire body, making your cunt quiver in anticipation of what's to come.
"Well, so..." Seonghwa says carelessly, tugging at your hair once more before he unclenches his fingers and abruptly lets go of your strands, causing your head to swing involuntarily and you to whimper softly. You watch as he turns on his heels and walks over to the chair you had been sitting in and sits in it elegantly, as if on a throne. He looks unbelievable, wicked, and smouldering with dark sexuality, swathed in expensive fur, and with his legs spread wide, you want to crawl over and bury your face in his cock. Hwa is stretched out in his chair, leaning back into the soft backrest and staring at you with heavy siren eyes. 
You have no idea at all what's going on here. Shouldn't Seonghwa be furious about this? You're literally sitting on another man's cock, and not just any man, but Choi San, the golden boy of the Fight Club that Hwa owns, your panties and shorts soaked through and your lips so swollen and covered in saliva and remnants of thick candy pink gloss that it looks like you've been selflessly sucking cock for hours, not just kissing. And all your incredibly possessive and bossy sugar daddy does is sit back in his chair and stare at you as if he's sitting in the front row of a fashion show. 
"Since you say so, San. I guess you have to show me how slutty my angel can be." Seonghwa's voice is nothing but solid darkness, wrapped in velvet. He emphasises the word 'my', and for the first time in a long while, you can hear the venom in his words. Outwardly, he may look and act completely indifferent, maybe even a little bored, but inside he's seething with jealousy at how much you're enjoying San and how he's touching you. "Don't let my presence distract you; just pick up where you left off."
'What?' You blink dumbly at him, your brain so clouded with lust and need that you are unable to process the words he has just said properly. 
"You heard me, angel, keep on fucking." Seonghwa just tilts his head to the side, looks at you with siren eyes, and licks his plump, kissable lips in a sensual way. You swallow loudly at this sight, because that's the way he usually looks at you when he's devouring your pussy or fucking you deep, throwing your legs over his shoulders and thrusting his hips into you with such force that the back of the bed hits the wall with every thrust and his tight balls slap against your plump, soft buttocks, making the skin on them blush angrily red and tingle slightly. In front of your mind's eye, you instantly flash back to this morning, when Seonghwa gave you the same siren's gaze that he's giving you right now, as he tickled your swollen clit with the tip of his tongue and stretched your hole with two long fingers.
'But... Seonghwa... I...' Your voice is hardly louder than a whisper when you speak. "Aren't you... Aren't you upset?" It embarrasses you so much, but at the same time you can't deny how much the thought of Seonghwa watching you while San fucks you is getting you excited.
"Oh, my little angel, aren't you a sweetie, eh?" Seonghwa gives a dark chuckle. He bites the tip of his index finger in a playful way and tilts his head to the side, looking up at you through his long, fluffy eyelashes.
You always loved how playful he could be with you at times, but at the moment it was more frightening than comforting, for you knew very well that his playfulness could go far beyond the limits of normalcy, and it never ended well.
"And what makes you think that I should be upset, my love?" His voice drops to a dangerous, dark purr, and this sound pierces you, sending signals straight to your needy pussy, causing more of your sticky, sweet juices to spill out. "Maybe it's because you're practically shoving your slutty cunt right in San's face? I bet your pussy is dripping wet and throbbing with the need to be filled with his  cock." He says it so casually and simply, and somehow it's so fucking hot that you don't know what you want more—to beg him for forgiveness or to fuck you silly.
Seonghwa slowly runs his tongue over his sensual, luscious lips, and this movement is so practised and deliberate that it sends shivers down your spine.
"But you know what, Angel? Daddy would do anything for you, and if you want to fuck him, then go right ahead and do it. You can ride his cock all day long; I don't give a shit. Because once he's fucked you, you'll come crawling back to me because you know you belong to me and me alone."
Seonghwa's words barely get through to you. You can see the way his stunning, perfectly sculpted lips move when he speaks; you can hear the velvety quality of his voice, but you still can't quite make out their meaning. 
Your mind is reminded of cotton candy—fluffy and airy, deliciously sweet, and melting with excitement. You shift your confused gaze from Seonghwa to San, hoping that the handsome boxer will clear your thoughts a little, but instead all you get is a sinful, predatory grin and the look of his seductive, half-closed eyes piercing through you and promising you a straight shot to paradise. 
It was enough to make your blood boil with desire. Your excitement was so obvious to them, almost palpable, and despite this humiliating fact, the thrill that fluttered in your lower belly and sent goosebumps of heat between your juicy thighs intensified even more.
‘I don't know...It's all so... complicated...' A quiet sob escapes from your throat as San grabs you by the throat and pushes his hips up, causing his hard cock to rub against your clit in the most delightful way. His hand clenches harder on your neck, causing you to gasp from the sudden lack of air. Your eyes roll up at the rough, possessive grip, and you unconsciously roll your hips over him, your throbbing, swollen clit pressed tightly against his hard cock. San's eyes narrow, and he curses under his breath when he sees how fucked you already look. He thrusts his hips into you again, and this action completely shuts down any rationality in your thinking. 
"I don't think so, doll." San whispers in a devilish voice, pressing his hot lips to your shoulder and leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses there; your skin melts under his touch, making you moan and wriggle even harder in his lap. "Just say yes, baby; that's all you need. You want this so badly, don't you?" San's silky voice slides over your body as if he's licking it with his tongue. He continues persistently to coax you into giving in to temptation, making your skin crawl, and as his teeth dig lightly at your collarbone, your brain finally loses all contact with reality, and you give in, letting your lust take control of you.
"Yes, I want to." You squeakily out, but San's hand around your neck makes the sound distorted and broken. 'Please.' You add even more softly. And apparently that's exactly what they wanted, because the next moment the handsome boxer suddenly releases your throat, and you begin to gasp slightly as air begins to flow freely into your lungs again.
"There you go, such a good girl." San purrs, and that guttural, silky sound vibrates against your skin, making you shiver with excitement. You try to get your breathing back to a normal rhythm by taking slow, deep breaths. Your head is a little dizzy, and you are about to fall to the floor, stumbling on your wobbly, shaky legs as San pushes you off his lap and forces you to stand right in front of him. 
You stare at him in confusion, not understanding why he would push you away when just a few minutes ago he was the one rubbing his cock all over your pussy and urging you to fuck him. But San just lifts his split eyebrow at you in silence and smiles mischievously, looking at you with his heavy bedroom eyes, as if his facial expression should have told you everything you needed to know. 
"What... what am I supposed to do?" It comes out almost shyly, as if you weren't the one dry humping another guy in front of your sugar daddy, and apparently Seonghwa finds it amusing too. You can hear his cheerful, velvety laugh behind your back before he elegantly gets up from his seat and comes back to you and hugs you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on the top of your head. You almost instantly dissolve into his arms, drowning in the luxurious, expensive fur of his fur coat as he pulls you closer to his body.
"You can be such a fool sometimes, my love; it can't help but amuse me." Seonghwa purrs, leaning down to your face and running the tip of his nose along your rounded, ruddy cheek. "San wants you to show him how good a slut you can be for him and how beautiful you look on your knees with a cock in your mouth. I'm sure that's been on his mind ever since he saw you giving Yunho a blowjob in the locker room, isn't it?" Hwa whispers into your ear, and you see San's eyes narrow dangerously as he says it, going even darker, and you could swear you see something utterly evil flashing in those deep chocolate irises. Oh, Seonghwa seems to have hit a nerve, and you know full well that he did it on purpose.
“Of course I did, Hwa. How could I not have thought of that? Dolly was quite a sight, so desperate, milking his cock with her mouth, sucking his balls, and lapping up his cum as if her life depended on it. You don't seem to be able to satisfy her appetite enough to keep her from seeking the attention of other men, Seonghwa." Parries San, and you are practically gasping for breath at such blatant insolence. You've never heard of anyone being so openly in Seonghwa's face before, and it's both a delight and a fright to you. 
'You bastard.' Seonghwa hisses at him. You can feel the irritation and anger coming from him, but he still does nothing to stop this game. Instead, he encourages it to continue. His hands let go of your waist, and he placed them on your shoulders instead, squeezing them so hard that you started to go down until you found yourself on your knees between San's spread legs. The handsome boxer's cock is a foot away from your face, and even though you haven't touched it yet, you can see how tight the muscles in his abs and thighs are, taut like steel cables under the golden, wet skin. It was an image that you wanted to stay with you forever. Your palms automatically rested on his inner thighs, and you lightly clenched the fabric of his shorts. "Have fun with her while you still can, San. You may never have the chance to play with my princess again." Hwa says in a mocking tone and strokes your head gently before he gives you a kiss on the top of your head. 
"Oh, trust me, Seonghwa, I will, and when I'm done with her, she won't be able to think of anything else than me." San wraps a hand around his thick, hard cock through the fabric of his shorts, and you swallow loudly, already imagining how heavy and hot it is going to be on your tongue.
"You are overconfident, San, but anyway...' He turns your face towards him to lick your lips with his tongue, coating them with a shiny, thick layer of his saliva. The action, totally dirty and lascivious, is so damn hot, and you instinctively stick your tongue out of your mouth so that Seonghwa can spit on it, which he does. With your eyes glazed over with lust, you watch as your sugar daddy collects the saliva in his mouth and spits it out onto your waiting tongue. He lets out a deep purr at the sight of a thick, viscous drop rolling down your pink tongue, which you immediately swallow with a sweet moan. "Aren't you the prettiest one? Such an obedient slut for your daddy." He licks your lips again, and you reach up in the hope of catching his tongue with your lips and sucking on it, but your desperation only makes him giggle. "You can do that later, my angel; I promise you that. Now give me a good show and work his dick with your hot, slutty mouth." And you obey the order.
Seonghwa moves away from you, leaving you at the mercy of San, and sits back down in his chair, unbuckling the belt on his trousers and beginning to stroke himself slowly. His seductive siren's eyes are uninterruptedly watching your every move. 
As you turn your attention back to San, a pitiful gasp comes from your chest, and you clench your thighs tighter in a futile attempt to reduce your arousal. You feel so small under the weight of that dark, feline gaze of his. His eyes roam over your form, his predatory gaze gliding over every curve of your body before it lingers at your boobs, almost falling out of your top. San's tongue slips out of his mouth, and he slowly licks his wounded lips, leaving a glistening trail of saliva on them. 
"Show me those big plump tits, baby. I want to see them bouncing while I fuck that sweet, doll-like face of yours." San purrs in a sultrily way, and there's a hoarseness to his voice that wasn't there before, but you're too caught up in the sight of San running his thumbs under the elastic of his gym shorts and pulling them down, finally exposing his big, pre-cum oozing cock. The sight of it is the cause of a salivary gush in your mouth.
Your hands reach up and begin to slowly pull the thin straps of your satin top down from your shoulders until your heavy, luscious tits are completely exposed and your top is gathered up at your waist in a useless strip of fabric. San's plump lips curl up in an approving smile, revealing his deep, sweet dimples as he finally gets to see your bare breasts in all their glory. Your fingers slide over your aureoles, your nipples hardening from the pleasurable stimulation, and you gently run your thumb pads over the sensitive, swollen buds, a soft moan of pleasure escaping your parted lips.
"Fuck, baby, you've got such amazing tits, so big, heavy, and so soft. Greatest titties I've ever seen. I want to cum all over your tits; cover them with my sperm. I'll milk your tits dry, Dolly, make you cum from sensations of my mouth on your  nipples." San's voice is full of dark promise, and it makes more and more of the moisture seep out of your trembling hole. He squeezes his cock harder in his broad palm, caressing the thick, throbbing length with a wet squelching sound before he pushes in lightly, making his beautiful, thick thighs tense even more. Hell, his cock is literally dripping with pre-cum; the swollen, reddened head has been covered in a thick layer of glistening, viscous glaze, and you can practically taste the sweet taste of his cum on the tip of your tongue. 
"Do you like my tits that much, San?" You rock your tits gently in the palms of your hands at the feel of their weight. The plump flesh of them barely fits in your hands. 
"So damn much, babe." The sexy boxer lets out a low, husky moan as he continues to pleasure himself. His cock twitches weakly in the palm of his hand as he watches you playing with yourself, massaging your breasts and tweaking your swollen nipples. You could swear that the moaning that comes out of his lips is the hottest you've ever heard, of course after the moaning and whimpering of Seonghwa. You wonder if you'll ever be able to make the temperamental boxer whimper and beg. The thought of San writhing and whimpering under your care as you ride him like a thoroughbred stallion makes a small trickle of sticky fluid flow out of you. 
A velvety moan from behind your back grabs your attention, and for a second you turn your head over your shoulder to take a look at your gorgeous daddy. Seonghwa's overly plump, glossy lips are parted with a lingering, soft moan; his feline, black eyes are clouded with pleasure and slightly out of focus as his graceful hand caresses his beautiful, thick cock. God, you still can't understand how you managed to get the attention of such a gorgeous, sexy man, but that's the last thing you can think about right now. Especially when he brings his long, pre-cum-covered fingers to his lips and smears them over the overly plump, soft flesh before he sticks out his tongue and licks the sticky residue off the delicate appendages. 
Until the last drop of pre-cum disappears into his mouth, Hwa slowly caresses the fingers with his long, expert tongue. The sight of it sends a new wave of heat through your body, and the silky walls of your cunt tremble and become even wetter. The whimper that comes out of you at the sight of this filthy thing is almost pitiful.
"Don't let me distract you, angel. I want to see you sucking him off. I want to see you choking on his big cock as you take him deep down your pretty little throat. Can you do that for Daddy, Angel?" Seonghwa's voice has the sound of melted honey. The sugary tone is such a strong contrast to the dirty, vulgar words that come out of his sensual mouth. And it makes you roll your eyes and let out a loud moan. Hell, he's fucking you without even touching you at all. 
"Yes, yes, daddy. I'll do everything for you. Anything you want me to do.' You squirm slightly in your spot, squeeze your thighs together, and bite your plump lower lip. 
"Such a good girl. Keep playing with San, Angel.' Seonghwa casts his dark, burning gaze over your body one last time, lingering briefly on your swollen, tense nipples before waving his hand at you. He silently commands you to turn away and give your full attention to San. Which you do immediately.
When you turn back to San, you look at him innocently through your fluffy eyelashes, knowing full well the effect it has on men when you know how quickly Seonghwa gets hard when you give him that look of false innocence. And apparently he's not the only one turned on by it, because you can see San's cock twitching in his palm and he hissing in pain or pleasure as he sinks his teeth into the bruised flesh of his lower lip.
"Can I suck your dick...? You stammer slightly now that your game has moved from playful teasing to actual sex, not knowing how to address him right. 
'Daddy, my doll.' The look on San's face is so intense and powerful that it makes your blood boil with the desire to satisfy him in every possible way. "You can call me "Daddy." You hear Seonghwa's sarcastic chuckle behind your back and see San's lips open in response, but you quickly distract him from another verbal altercation with your sugar daddy. 
"So you're going to let me suck you off, Daddy?". You lick your plump lips greedily, glistening with the sticky residue of candy pink glitter and Seonghwa's saliva, running your tongue in deliberately slow motion over the soft flesh and placing your palms on the inside of his thighs. Your face is practically resting on his hard, oozing cock, and you blow lightly on it, causing San to throw his head back, exposing his long, seductive neck with its scattering of freckles and straining, swollen veins, as he rolls his eyes in pleasure. 'Please.' You add as you arch your spine and move your face even closer to his crotch, leaving a light, weightless kiss on the top of his taut balls.
'Fuck, doll.' San growls, grabbing your hair and pulling your face up so you meet his gaze with yours. 'Do you want to taste my cock that badly, baby girl?' His eyebrow lifts in a teasing manner. He wraps his hand around the base of his cock and slaps the swollen, reddening head against your lips. Each time he pulls it away from your mouth, long strands of your drool, mixed with pre-cum, stretch from your lips to his cock. 
"Yes, Daddy, I want it so badly. Let me taste your cock; I want to feel it on my tongue, in my throat. Please, Daddy, please." You spread your legs slightly, and the fabric of your tiny satin shorts stretches across your crotch, digging in between your labia and perfectly outlining the contours of your plump little cunt. This did nothing to hide how wet you were now, so both San and Seonghwa could see the dark wet stain on the thin fabric. 
"Oh, shit, angel." Seonghwa curses, and you can hear him shift a little in his seat, but you still do not make the slightest attempt to turn around and look at him. You can be sure that if the situation were different, Seonghwa's godlike face would be buried between your thighs by now. But right now he has to restrain his desires and just watch what's going on. "Stop playing with her, San, and give the princess what she wants." His voice is condemning, but you know very well that this is nothing but a farce. Hwa himself can torment you for hours by rubbing his cock over your face or slapping it on your tongue and cheeks before he lets you take it in your mouth. 
The only thing your daddy had no patience for was eating your pussy. Seonghwa couldn't tease you for more than a minute before he would suckle with his gorgeous mouth on your warm, tight cunt and feast on it for hours. He would stick his tongue deep into your tiny hole and suck your juices like the exquisite vintage wine he loved so much, although he also liked to drink it from your pussy too. 
San slaps his cock against your mouth a couple of more times before he presses the head of it against your lower lip and gently pushes it in the inviting, moist warmth of your mouth.
"You heard your man, baby girl. Open your mouth and take this cock, Angel." You almost want to roll your eyes at those words, you petty bastard. But when San's sharp feline eyes meet yours and he gives you a smug, predatory grin that makes you squirm in your seat between his spread legs, all your insolence melts away in an instant. 
San's hand runs through your hair in a deceptively affectionate manner, pulling a few strands away from your beautiful face so that he can get a better look at you as your sweet mouth opens and his thick cock slowly enters you. Your jaw tenses up as you try to get used to the size of it, the swollen, throbbing veins rubbing against your tongue as he pushes deeper and deeper. San clenches a large handful of your silky curls in his fist before pulling them out with force. He rolls his eyes and hisses through clenched teeth as the blunt head of his cock hits the back of your throat and his balls rest against your chin. 
Your mouth is full to the brim, your plump lips stretching beautifully around the hot, velvety girth, pressing tightly against it and enveloping the sensitive length with warm, wet breath, but even that doesn't stop you from moving your tongue and kitten licking the sensitive spot where his cock joins his heavy, cum-filled balls. 
The moan he makes when you do it goes straight to your pussy and your silky walls clench around nothing. Delicate, velvety skin tingles under the caress of your tongue, and it makes his cock throb in your mouth. The sight of you choking on his cock and drooling all over his balls almost brings San to the brink of his limit. 
"Look at you, doll, you're already drooling like a mindless slut, and I haven't even fucked that sweet face yet." San's thumb caresses your soft cheek, cooing sweetly before he slaps you lightly on the cheek, causing you to gasp and unknowingly let his cock go deeper down your throat. 
You choke on it, the slippery walls of your throat tightening around his cock, pressing on the sensitive, swollen veins that stretch seductively along its massive, heavy length. The sensation makes him curse, and the nasty gagging, gurgling sound you make seems so sexy that San doesn't think he'll ever be able to get enough of it. Seonghwa makes his own wet whimpering noise as he watches your deep throat the handsome boxer's cock as he masturbates on you. 
San pulls your head up by the hair until the only thing left in your mouth is your wet, reddened head, and you wipe the tears from your eyes. Wiping away the tears that begin to gather in the corners of your eyes, you look up at him with the most enchanting, tender look of pure innocence as you let his cock completely out of your mouth with a loud 'pop'. You give a wet smack to the swollen, mushroom-shaped head of his cock, the viscous saliva bubbling up before it bursts and runs down his cock and your chin in thick strands. 
"Oh fuck, baby doll, you look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth. A perfect little cocksucker." The sweet praise makes your delicate hole clench around nothing and your clit throbs as if San had just licked it with his tongue. 'Let me fuck your angelic face, sweetheart? I'm sure Seonghwa can't wait to see me stuff my cock down your tight little throat up to my balls. San purrs passionately as he looks down at you before he pushes his muscular thighs up so that his massive length slaps against your mouth and cheeks a couple of times. 
'Yes, Daddy, I want it.' You whimper as you flutter your long, fluffy eyelashes and run your lips sweetly over the sensitive, velvety flesh of his cock, leaving short kisses on it. "Please, I want to feel you deep in my throat."
San growls, cupping the back of your head roughly with his palm and pressing down hard, forcing your pretty, flushed face to press even harder against his thick, wetted with saliva and pre-cum length. He doesn't need to tell you anything; you obediently open your warm, moist mouth and allow San to push his massive cock back between your swollen lips, stretching them beautifully around the hard, velvety flesh and pulsating, swollen veins. 
His broad shoulders tense visibly, muscles tightening and contracting under his sweaty golden skin, and he moans gutturally as he watches you lower yourself onto him. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you savour the slightly painful sensation from his huge cock as it pushes deeper and deeper into your throat, pulling the tight, slippery walls apart until you are choking on it completely. His cock is practically choking you as San holds your head in place, preventing you from being able to move away from him and take a full breath. San's broad, slightly rough palms begin to massage the sides of your neck to ease the tension a little as he holds you against his cock, your nose resting against the smooth, warm skin of his pubic and his heavy balls pressed tightly against your chin.
"That's my good girl." San moans, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes as your tongue presses against the swollen, throbbing vein on his cock. His stomach tenses up, and his taut pecs rise and fall with a heavy, hoarse intake of breath.
"My girl San, she's my fucking girl." Seonghwa hisses angrily. But that doesn't seem to bother the handsome boxer at all, as he just laughs grimly, clutching your hair in his fist and pulling your head away from his cock to admire your sweet, tear-stained face and your swollen, fucked lips. 
"Of course she is, Hwa. She's all yours." San replies in a caustic tone. He enters your mouth once more, thrusting into it roughly and jerkily, hitting the back of your throat with the head of his cock each time. "Breathe through your nose, dolly." The brunette warns you before he forces your head down onto his cock until your nose is pressed against the smooth, wet skin of his pubic and his balls are pressed tightly against your chin. San holds your head still, and you begin to gasp, your throat walls tightening around his thick length as you try to breathe. 
"Damn, doll, I'm going to cum. Do you want my cum, kitten?' He growls, pulling at your hair as he finally begins to fuck you in the throat. He thrusts into your mouth, sharp and deep, his hot length sliding between the narrow walls of your throat with a disgusting wet sound. San rolls his hips smoothly and fucks you in the face, his rhythm steady and deep. 
You moan affirmatively, looking at him with huge, sweet eyes. With every move he makes, his heavy, thick cock rubs against your soft tongue, and you suck in your cheeks to give him even more pleasure. This makes San hisses like a big wildcat. This deep, sexy sound excites you more, and you dig your long, sharp nails into his luxurious thighs, leaving on them long scarlet stripes.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" The brunet asks, wrapping his fingers around your neck and pressing down lightly so that he can feel the bulge of his cock in your throat every time he enters you. This also cuts off what little room you had left to breathe. "Your plump, slutty cunt must be leaking so hard right now, isn't it, doll? You're just dying for me to cum in it and destroy that tight, sweet hole of yours."
His disgustingly dirty but incredibly hot words make you whimper pitifully around his massive girth, sending pleasurable vibrations through his sensitive cock.
You can feel his muscular thighs tense up under the palms of your hands as San throws his head back and lets out a loud, prolonged moan of pure pleasure. It's a deep, pornographic sound that comes straight from his chest, and it's at that very moment that your mouth begins to fill with his warm sperm. 
San cums heavily on your tongue—a warm stream of thick, milky liquid runs down the back of your throat, causing you to choke. You slowly breathe through your nose and try to fight against your gag reflex as you drink his cum, little by little.
You try to swallow all of it, but there's so much of his sperm that some of it starts to leak out of your mouth, dripping down your chin and down the silky length of his cock, coating it in a sticky, milky glaze. You have to pull yourself away from him so that you can swallow it properly and savour the rich, bittersweet taste of it.
"Come on, kitten, show me your tongue." San purrs and looks up at you in a seductive way with his dark, feline eyes. His gaze is hazy and unfocused from the orgasm he's just experienced, and he gives you a lecherous grin, showing off his deep dimples as he continues to stroke his cock lazily.
You swallow noisily a thick mixture of sticky cum and your own drool, looking up at San with your big, deceptively innocent eyes before opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue.
"Look at you, baby doll." San purrs in a condescending manner and slaps his big cock against your tongue. Another copious stream of cum splashes onto your soft appendage, some of it landing on your lips and cheeks, coating your angelic face with thick, milky goo. "I always knew you were made to suck my cock, my little slut." He grabs your hair again and pulls you to his face for a kiss. 
It's a dirty, sloppy, even slightly disgusting, open-mouthed kiss with lots of drool and sperm. San doesn't care at all that you haven't had time to swallow his share; he shoves his tongue deep down your throat, licks the inside of your cheeks, and then slides his tongue over your tongue to taste his own cum. This has you whimpering and moaning into his lips, your little arms wrapped around his thick, tense neck as you continue to kiss each other. San persistently explores your mouth with his tongue while his hands cradle your heavy, plump tits, roughly massaging the soft flesh and thumb rubbing your sensitive, swollen nipples. 
The fact that Seonghwa doesn't seem to mind all of this and allows you to fuck San right in front of his eyes makes you even more horny. In fact, it's always been your little forbidden fantasy—you've imagined San touching you, licking your pussy and filling your little hole with his dick and sperm more than once or twice. But the fact that Hwa is involved in all of this drives you absolutely crazy. It's hard for you to comprehend what's happening, especially when San pulls and twists your nipples with his rough fingers again and another pair of hands goes to your hips before starting to pull down your soaked shorts and slutty panties until your sticky, plump cunt is fully exposed. Long strands of your arousal flow from your hole, dripping down to San's thighs and tempting Seonghwa to lick your silky, shiny folds, which he does right away.
Your hips arch as Seonghwa's long tongue slides down your slit from your dripping, quivering hole to your throbbing clit; the sharp tip dipping between your labia, caressing the soft, sensitive folds that are covered in a thick layer of your sweet mucus.
'Daddy!' You squeal, pulling away from San's swollen, hot lips and clawing at his broad, muscular shoulders with your long fingernails with such force that drops of blood begin to show on his skin.
'Do you like to play rough, sweetheart?' San hisses and suddenly slaps your tit. An angry red mark immediately blooms where his palm has made contact with your plump flesh. Your arousal is so obvious that you can practically feel it tingling on your skin; a fresh load of slime pours out of your hole, and Seonghwa immediately licks it up, velvety purring as the viscous liquid runs down his tongue and into his throat. He squeezes your thighs violently, long fingers digging into your flesh to pull your thick, juicy thighs closer to him so he can bury his godlike face in your aching, slutty cunt. "I asked you a question, Dolly." The handsome boxer slaps your breasts again, causing you to make a pitiful whimper. 
"Yes...' You can barely speak; your words are all of gasping and sobbing, especially when Hwa rubs her pretty nose against your sensitive clit. Your whole body shudders at the new stimulation, and you dig your nails into San's shoulders even harder than before. "Yes, I like that, Daddy.". 
'Daddy, huh?' Seonghwa hisses furiously and pulls his beautiful, sensual mouth away from your needy pussy. You squeal loudly as he suddenly slaps your swollen, sensitive clit with his graceful palm. The painful sensation is quickly replaced by euphoric, sweet pleasure spreading through your body like a liquid flame. "You know, you should be ashamed of yourself for the way you have behaved, my angel." Hwa purrs as he slaps your pussy a couple of more times. You give a pitiful whimper, shivering with your whole body and clinging even more tightly to San like a helpless little kitten. 
"Please, Daddy, I'm so sorry...I'll behave better...' Your tone is so whiny, almost pleading. You choke on your own words, which sound more like intermittent breathing than anything coherent. "I promise I'll make it up to you, Daddy. I'll do everything for you. Please...'
"What about me, baby doll? Will you do anything for me? San whispers, sultry and husky, drawing your attention back to him; his wet, swollen lips, swollen from kissing and bruising, touch yours with every word he utters. 
'I...' You start, but you never get a chance to finish your sentence as Seonghwa, without warning, plunges two long fingers into your tight, tiny hole all the way to the base. His fingers flex inside you, the soft pads pressing against the sensitive, spongy bundle of nerves, and you moan long and hard. More and more of the sweet nectar is oozing out of your hole, coating his fingers and dripping down onto San's thighs. 
"I feel like you forget yourself all the time, San." Seonghwa's hisses. He pulls his long fingers out of you at an excruciatingly slow pace, dragging them along the silky walls of your pussy and making sure you feel every moment of it very vividly. "Y/N belongs to me and only to me. She is mine. And I think it's time for me to remind you of that." There is pure venom in Songhwa's voice, and you can't deny that it turns you on. But I have to say, it's pretty sweet that you have the idea that she could be yours." He continues to taunt the handsome boxer.
San just laughs, slides his hand between your thighs, and cups your pussy with his broad palm in a possessive way. Your hips automatically begin to move in search of sweet stimulation, and this movement has you rubbing against San's palm, your swollen clit sliding against the rough skin in the most delightful way. You arch your back and push back your plump booty as you shake it a little, making the juicy flesh wiggle seductively, and you hope that this will entice Sunhwa to put his fingers inside you once more and press his tongue against your cunt. God, you wanted to cum so badly, but it seems that the two impossibly sexy and powerful men, who now had you trapped between their gorgeous bodies, had plans of their own for you.
"Oh really?" San snorts with a grim chuckle. "Oh, daddy, her cunt is flowing for me, all sticky, sweet, and ready to be filled with my sperm. You haven't even made her cum yet; is that really how you are supposed to treat the sugar pussy of your princess, huh? If she were mine, I'd suck on her pussy until she squirted all over my face, then I'd do it again and again until I milked it dry'. San leans down to your ear, and his hot breath touches the sensitive skin of your earlobe, sending a tingling sensation through your whole body. He runs the tip of his tongue over your delicate flesh, grinning lewdly and looking directly into Songhwa's dark, squinting eyes. "And it seems you're the one who forgets, Hwa." San presses down on your trembling, tight hole and pushes two fingers into you with a loud, squelching sound. 'I never lose."
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❣ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part I @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity @0rangemilk @yellow-foxxing @claimmeyourprincess
❣ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part II @unholywriters @hey-syia @hrts4nohee @vnessalau @mlink64 @tessakleine @fr34k4c1dr41n @313hwa @lilyuwon @tiziamattaga @un-knew @wiaxul @siyah-staryis @seonghwasbbgirl @mingisfavgf @bunnyluvr25 @roserperfume @lose-lose07 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lelaleleb @bubblebisk @silverlight-h @ chloe-elise-2000 @cookiesandcreammy @mxnsxngie @ghostlovesworld @i-love-ateez @mingisprincesss @vampscan @peachygiku @vampqueen777 @miyaluvvsyou @stay-tiny-things @moondanse94
❣ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part III @yyaurii @infrenchexit @sanniesbum @jaxyy219 @lostxxgirl @m1sss1mp @manipulatedstars @cotton-candycloudz @kienhawon @flowerxsin @londonbridges01 @fluffyyongbokie @sang-09 @hobarihope @sanniesaur @luvbit3z @sanriomilk @s4erin @sanhwalvr @mallielovssyou @slytherinslays @your-bloodbag @cherricola-star @passionandsuga @hwasangel
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mythicalmaven · 2 months ago
Note
19 Lando fluff and smut please
Secret Desires - Lando Norris
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Loved writing this! <3 If you guys want a part 2 where the whole ordeal continues (including Lando’s awkward encouter with Max) let me know!😂❤️
Masterlist ↳pairing: Lando Norris x female!verstappen!reader ↳word count: 4,6K ↳Summary: In which the reader is Max Verstappen's twin is Lando's friend & he accidentally confesses some things to her while he's drunk. The day after when he apologizes, it leads to something more. ↳content warnings: friends to lovers, reader is Max Verstappen's twin, lando is drunk and accidentally confesses something to the reader, suggestive content, flirting, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, phone sex, masturbation (both f! & m!), praise kink, fluff, smut, 18+ (MDNI!), confessing feelings ↳prompts used: 19 - "Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you.. with my hand down my pants"
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You sighed deeply, sinking back into the comfort of the guest bed in your older sister's house, the covers wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The room felt different compared to your Monaco apartment, but it was cozy, filled with the nostalgia of growing up with your family as you saw the pictures hanging on the wall. Pictures of your parents, of you and your twin brother Max, of you and Victoria & so on.
You traded your own bed for the guest bedroom at Victoria's house back home in the Netherlands for the week, to spend some time with your sister again to catch up. After a long night of chatting with Vic, you finally decided to call it a day, though sleep was far from your mind.
Just as you were about to close your eyes to at least give sleeping a try, your phone lit up on the nightstand, a soft buzz drawing your attention. You reached over lazily, expecting a random notification, but your heart skipped a beat when you saw the name flashing on the screen: Lando
Your best friend, your partner in crime, and the guy you’d been secretly in love with for longer than you’d care to admit. The guy who made your heart race with a single smile and had you questioning your sanity every time you felt his touch linger just a little too long. Even though you refused to admit it to anyone with a passion. Stating that the way you felt about Lando was nothing more than two flirtatious friends. You knew you were lying to yourself and your facade was starting to crumble. And now he was texting you, at this hour?
Unlocking your phone, you were met with not one, but several messages from him. You squinted at the screen, reading the texts slowly as they loaded, your eyes widening more with each one.
Lando: Y/n… Lando: Fuhk.. why are you sooooo hotttt? 🥵 Lando: Do yhu have any idea howw many tiems I thout about you… with my hnd down my pantss Lando: *1 image attached* You felt your face heat up instantly, a wave of flustered shock washing over you. He send a photo that you had posted on your story on Instagram today, a photo of you in a cute bikini set at the pool at Vic's house.
What the hell? Lando was… Was he really saying what you thought he was saying? Your mind spun, trying to process the drunk, typo-riddled texts. You knew he must have had a few too many drinks tonight; he mentioned going out to a party with the grid earlier. But this?
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your heart racing as you tried to think of a response. A thousand emotions crashed through you at once—embarrassment, confusion, a thrill of excitement. You could barely breathe.
You: Lan, you're drunk as fuck. Go to sleep 😂
you typed back quickly, hitting send before you could second-guess yourself. You barely had time to process your own message before another one from Lando popped up.
Lando: Drunk on love 🤭
Your heart did a somersault in your chest, and you felt your cheeks burning even hotter. What was he doing? Your pulse thudded loudly in your ears as you stared at the screen, fingers frozen above the keyboard, unsure of what to say. Before you could collect your thoughts, your phone buzzed again, but this time, it was a call.
Max’s name flashed on the screen.
You answered, bringing the phone to your ear. “Max, what the hell—”
“Sorry dat ik zo laat bel,” (sorry for calling at this time) Max's voice was low and slightly slurred with a laugh. “Maar ik zag dat je online was, dus dacht, jij bent nog wakker. Wilde je alleen even een seintje geven dat de kans vrij aannemelijk is dat je vannacht nog dronken appjes krijgt van Lando.” (But I saw that you were online, so I figured you were still awake. Just wanted to give you a heads up that it's very likely that you'll receive some drunk texts from Lando tonight)
You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh of your own. Of course, your twin brother knew exactly what was happening. “De kerel is echt gewoon laveloos en hield zijn mond maar niet dicht over je. De hele rit terug naar zijn apartment bleef hij maar zeuren over hoe hij je moest appen over iets geheimzinnigs. Dacht ik waarschuw je even.” (The guy is absolutely hammered and he wouldn't shut up about you. Kept yapping about how he had to text you about something secretive. Thought it would be nice to warn you)
“Te laat, is al gebeurd” (too late, he already did) you replied with a chuckle, glancing back at Lando's messages. “Had al zo’n vermoeden dat hij dronken was haha.” (I already figured he was drunk)
“Dacht ik al,” (I thought so) Max chuckled. “Hou het een beetje netjes, ja? Ik wil hier niet meer van weten dan ik al doe.” (Please keep it decent, yeah? I don't want to know any more about this than I already do)
You could almost hear the grin in his voice. “Maar ik moest hem echt thuisbrengen, de jongen was niet meer te houden.” (But I just had to bring him home, couldn't keep him at bay anymore)
“Dank je, Max,” (Thanks, Max) you said softly, biting your lip. “Je bent een goede broer.” (You're a good brother)
“Altijd,” (Always) Max replied. “Ik moet wel weer ophangen nu, voordat ik Kelly en P wakker maak. Succes met je dronken vriendje.” (Gotta hang now tho, before I wake up Kelly and P. Good luck with your boyfriend)
“Max, hoe vaak moet ik nog zeggen dat Lando en ik gewoon vrienden zijn” (Max, how often do I have to tell you that Lando and I are just friends) you said, rolling your eyes.
"Als jij jezelf niet zo voor de gek hield, waren jullie al lang samen" (If you didn't keep lying to yourself, you two would have dated a long time already) and with a last chuckle, he hung up.
You flopped back onto your bed, your mind racing, Lando’s texts still staring at you from the screen. Your fingers shook as you picked up your phone again, reading his words over and over, your stomach flipping with nerves and something else, something hotter, more dangerous.
With a deep breath, you tried to shake it off. Lando was just drunk, you told yourself. He didn’t mean it. It didn’t mean anything… Right? But the way your heart fluttered at the thought of him thinking about you like that, the way your skin prickled with excitement at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way…
You forced yourself to put the phone down, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the wild thoughts racing through your mind. It was late, and you needed to sleep. But as you drifted off, your dreams were anything but peaceful. Lando's words echoed in your mind, and you found yourself imagining all the things he might have done while thinking about you, the way he might have said your name, the way his hands might have—
You woke up, flustered and breathless, your body tingling in a way that was all too familiar. The morning sun was peeking through the curtains, but all you could think about was Lando, and the way his words made you feel things you’d tried so hard to ignore.
Around the same time, somewhere in Monaco, Lando jolts awake.
"Fuck" the single word comes out as a hiss, his head pounding from the hangover. His phone screen glares back at him, a series of messages and a notification from Max catching his blurry gaze. He squints, his heart starting to race as fragmented memories of the night before come flooding back.
He fumbles to unlock his phone, praying he didn’t do what he thinks he did. But the evidence is right there, the bold lettering of your name above the most mortifying message he could ever have sent, full of typos, but easily desiphered as 'Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you… with my hand down my pants?'
“Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his messy curls, anxiety flooding his system. What the fuck had he done? His fingers move of their own accord, tapping out a frantic apology.
Lando: Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry.
You: Good morning to you too. How is your headache? 😉
He cringes at the situation, a mix of playful and mocking. His mind races, grasping at straws to somehow make this situation less embarrassing.
Lando: I don’t even remember sending that. I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, pretty sure I wasn't thinking at all. I didn’t mean it.
A lie. He did mean it. But he’s not ready to admit that just yet.
You: Oh, you definitely weren’t thinking, lol. But hey, maybe you should apologize to Max too, since you apparently spilled some beans about me to him. 😆
Lando’s eyes widen, horror painting his features. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, rubbing his forehead. He types back, heart racing.
Lando: What did I say? Please tell me I didn’t—
You: Relax, nothing too scandalous. Just enough for Max to find it disgusting.
Despite himself, a small laugh escapes his lips. He can picture Max’s reaction, the exaggerated gagging, the inevitable jokes he’ll have to endure.
Lando: I’m so sorry. Are you mad at me? I don’t want you to think I’m some idiot who can’t control himself.
You: Nah, I’m not mad. You were drunk, it’s not like you meant it anyway, right?
He swallows hard, your words hitting too close to home. A dry response forms on his screen.
Lando: Yeah, sure.
But deep down, he knows it’s not true. He’d thought about you like that more times than he cared to admit, a dangerous longing simmering beneath the surface of your friendship.
You: Hey, at least now I know I looked hot in yesterday’s bikini post.
Heat floods his cheeks. You’re playing it off, but there’s a hint of something in your words, a subtle curiosity. He swallows, fingers hovering over the keyboard before he types back, heart pounding.
Lando: Stating the obvious.
He can’t help the grin tugging at his lips as he imagines your reaction. It’s risky, but you don’t seem upset, and he’s willing to test the waters.
You: Oh? So you think I’m hot?
Lando: Didn’t know that was up for debate.
He’s toeing the line, the thrill of it sending a spark through him.
Lando: U really not mad? I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.
You: Mad? Nah. Flattered, maybe.
He blinks at your response, surprise mingling with a rush of arousal. Flattered? His mind reels, thoughts scrambling as he tries to figure out what to say next.
You: I have to admit tho, when I first got that message, I thought you’d sent something different than my own instagram post…🤭
His breath catches, heart skipping a beat. The implication is clear, and he feels himself growing hard at the mere thought of you expecting a more explicit photo from him. He shifts uncomfortably, typing out a teasing response.
Lando: So, you’re saying you opened it anyway, even though you thought I sent you a spicy picture? 😉
You: Shut up.
He laughs, imagining the flustered look on your face. It’s too easy to picture, and he leans back against his pillows, biting his lip.
Lando: Where are you?
You: In bed. Why?
Lando's breath got caught in his throat. A dangerous idea takes root in his mind, one that’s equally thrilling and terrifying. He knows he should stop, should draw the line before it goes too far. But something in your responses, the playful edge, the hint of curiosity, makes him want to push further.
Lando: Just curious. 😉
His mind races, and before he can second-guess himself, he snaps a quick photo. It’s not much,—just him lying back on his bed, shirt unbuttoned halfway, his abs on display and his hair a mess. He was still wearing the same outfit as yesterday, apparently not changed out of it. But there’s something undeniably suggestive in the way he looks at the camera, the flush on his cheeks, a knowing smile on his lips as he sends it with a caption.
Lando: I can send you one for real if you want to see one.
His heart hammers in his chest as he waits for your response, the seconds dragging by agonizingly slowly. Then your reply comes in, teasing and playful.
You: Kinda daring coming from the guy who was apologizing 10 minutes ago for accidentally sending his best friend a text about thinking about her with his hand down his pants😉
Your words send a thrill through him, the boldness of it, the way you’re not backing down. He can’t resist pushing a little further, fingers trembling with anticipation.
Lando: You didn’t seem too disgusted by it.
The moment stretches out, his breath catching as he waits for your reply. The tightness in his dress pants becoming significantly worde.
When it comes, it’s more than he expected. 
You: I wasn’t. Actually, it was kinda hot.🫣
His eyes widen, arousal spiking as he reads your words again and again, disbelieving. Is this really happening? 
Lando: Yeah?
You: Yeah.
He swallows hard, a wicked idea forming in his mind. He glances down at the growing bulge in his pants, his arousal straining against the fabric. His hand moves almost on its own, snapping a quick picture of his hand palming himself through his dress pants, the outline of his erection unmistakable.
Lando: What about this? Still hot?
Your response is almost immediate.
You: Fuck, yes.
The words send a shiver down his spine, desire flaring as he imagines your reaction, the way you must be looking at your phone. He wants more, needs more.
Lando: Your turn.
There’s a pause, then a photo comes through. His breath hitches at the sight of you, flushed and flustered, the soft curve of your cleavage visible just above the red lace of your bra. It wasn't too naughty, but enough to send Lando reeling. 
He groans, his hand moving down to rub himself through his pants, a low moan escaping him as he imagines what’s beneath that thin fabric.
Lando: Fuck, babe, you’re killing me.
You: Good.
The playfulness in your response only fuels his desire, and he knows he should stop, should take a breath before this spirals out of control. But he doesn’t want to. Instead, he hits record on his camera, aiming it down at his crotch as he begins to palm himself through the fabric.
The video is short, just a few seconds of him rubbing himself, a low groan slipping from his lips. He ends it with a whispered “fuck,” his hand slipping beneath the waistband of his pants to give himself a teasing stroke before the video cuts off.
He sends it without thinking, heart racing as he imagines you watching it, the way your breath might hitch, the way you might bite your lip.
You: You’re really enjoying that, huh?
His breath hitched at your words, every sensation heightened as he slowly works himself up and down inside his dress pants, unable to contain the soft groans leaving his lips.
Lando: I do. Feels amazing... I wish you were here with me.
His hand is shaking now as he types out his next message, his arousal growing with every word.
Lando: Show me more.
There’s a beat of silence, and then another picture comes through. This one is more daring, more revealing. You’re under the blankets, one leg exposed, the other hidden beneath the covers. The waistband of your red panties is just visible above the edge of your blanket, your hand resting suggestively on your lower stomach, fingers reaching just into your panties.
Lando: Fuck, babe, that's so hot
Lando's breath catches as he stares at the photo you sent, his mind racing with all the things he wants to say, all the things he wants to do. He decided to take the leap and press the button to send you a facetime request. You accept it almost immediately, his heart pounding as your face fills the screen. You look flustered, lips slightly parted, and he swallows hard.
“Hi,” you say, your voice breathless, almost shy.
“You’re really fucking beautiful, you know that?” Lando murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he admired your flushed face.
You blush, your eyes darting away from the screen for a moment before you look back at him. “I think you’re the one who’s supposed to be embarrassed right now, not me.”
He grins, the playful tone of your voice sending another jolt of arousal through him. “Oh, trust me, I’m plenty embarrassed. But I’m also…” He hesitates, his gaze dropping down for a moment before he meets your eyes again, his voice dropping to a lower, huskier tone. “... really turned on.”
Your breath catches, and he watches as you shift on the bed, the movement causing the camera to reveal a little bit more of your cleavage and the red lace bra you were wearing. His eyes are drawn to the exposed skin, mesmerized by your body.
“What are you wearing?” The question slips out before he can stop it, his eyes dark with desire.
You glance down at yourself, then back at him, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Not much.”
He groans, his hand tightening around his phone. As he speaks, his other hand drifts back down, brushing over the ever-growing bulge in his pants again. “Can I see?” The words are thick with anticipation, his voice trembling slightly as he palms himself, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through him. He bites his lip, letting out a quiet moan that he can’t quite suppress.
You hesitate, your teeth worrying your bottom lip as you consider his request. Then, slowly, you change your camera angle and pull the blanket down just a little, revealing the soft skin of your stomach, the red lace of your panties, the soft curve of your thigh. Lando feels a jolt of arousal shooting through him, and he has to bite back a groan. It’s just enough to tease, to make him want more. 
“Fuck, Y/N…” His voice is rough, strained, as he shifts on the bed, the fabric of his pants suddenly feeling too tight, too restrictive. His hand presses harder against his length, his breath hitching as the friction sends sparks of pleasure shooting through him.
You giggle, your eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and excitement. “You like what you see?”
“Like?” He shakes his head, his eyes glued to the screen. “I fucking love it.”
Your cheeks flush a deeper red, and you lean back a little, giving him an even better view of your body. His mouth goes dry as he takes in the sight of you, the way the red lace clings to your skin, the hint of cleavage peeking out from beneath your bra. He can see the way your chest rises and falls with each breath, the anticipation, the arousal clear in your eyes.
“Your turn,” you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it’s enough to send his heart racing.
He doesn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still holding his phone, he shifts back on the bed, his other hand moving to the waistband of his pants. His fingers fumble with the button, his hands shaking slightly as he pops it open, his eyes never leaving your face.
Your breath hitches as he unzips his pants, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. He pauses for a moment, his eyes flicking up to yours, seeking permission. When you nod, he slides his hand into his boxers, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale as he wraps his fingers around his length.
“Fuck…” The word slips out as he strokes himself slowly, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he forces them open again, needing to see your reaction. His voice trembles, laced with a mix of desire and restraint, each moan escaping his lips growing louder as he quickens his pace.
Your eyes are wide, your lips slightly parted as you watch him, your hand moving down towards your panties on their own accord, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric “Fuck, that's hot, Lando…”
He groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his boxers now pushed low enough to reveal his cock, hand moving faster, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him. “Touch yourself for me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “Please.”
You bite your lip, waiting just a moment before you slip your hand beneath the waistband of your panties, a soft gasp escaping you as your fingers make contact. The sight of you, the way your body arches slightly, the soft, breathless sounds you make, is almost too much for him.
“Fuck, babe, you’re so fucking hot…” His voice is barely more than a growl as he watches you, his own hand moving faster, the pleasure building inside him, threatening to spill over.
“What would you do to me if I was right there?” you ask, your voice a breathless whisper.
His eyes darken, his grip tightening around himself. “I’d start by kissing you, slowly… working my way down your body.” His voice is rough, each word laced with longing. “I’d touch you everywhere, make you feel so good. Then I’d…” his words getting cut off by his own moan.
“Tell me,” you encourage, your own voice trembling with need.
“I’d bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name,” he groans, his strokes becoming more erratic as he imagines it, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “F-Fuck, I want you so bad.”
You moan at his words, your fingers moving faster as you picture it, your body aching for his touch. “Lando, I…”
“Keep going,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me what you’d do to me.”
“I’d touch you,” you breathe, your voice trembling as your fingers move in sync with his. “I’d wrap my fingers around you, just like you’re doing now… make you feel so good, Lan”
He whimpers at your words, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he imagines it, the sensation of your touch almost too real. “Fuck, Y/N, I need you…”
“Imagine it’s my hand, Lan” you whisper, your voice laced with seduction. “Imagine I’m right there with you…”
His moans grow louder, his hips bucking into his hand as he follows your words, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “I’m so close…”
“Me too,” you whisper, your breath hitching as you feel the pleasure building, your body trembling with anticipation.
“God, you’re amazing,” he pants, his voice filled with praise as he watches you, every movement driving him closer to the edge. “You’re so perfect… I want you so bad…”
Your voice is a breathless moan as you reach the brink, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure consumes you "F-Fuck, Lan, I'm coming"
“Fuck, baby, I’m right there with you…” His voice is ragged, his body tensing as he teeters on the edge, every muscle tightening in anticipation. You watch, breathless, as his hand moves faster, more desperately, his grip tightening around his length.
Then, with a strangled moan, he tips over the edge. His hips jerk, and his head falls back against the pillows as he cums, thick ropes of it spilling out and covering his abdomen. You can see the way his abs contract with each pulse, his hand still working himself through every last wave of pleasure, milking himself until he’s spent. His eyes remain locked on yours, his breathing heavy, a mixture of satisfaction and lingering desire in his gaze as you both ride the waves of your shared climax.
For a few moments, the only sound is your ragged breathing, both of you staring at each other through the screen, the intensity of what just happened hanging heavy in the air.
“Fuck…” He laughs breathlessly, his head falling back against the pillows as he runs a hand through his hair. “That was…”
“Amazing,” you finish for him, your own laughter bubbling up, your cheeks still flushed, your body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks. “Holy shit, Lando…”
“Yeah.” He grins, his heart still racing as he looks at you, the reality of what you just did slowly sinking in. “Are you… okay?”
You nod, your smile softening as you look at him. “Yeah, I’m okay. More than okay.”
His heart swells at your words, relief flooding through him. He’s about to say something else when you shift on the bed, the blanket slipping down a little further, giving him a glimpse of your bare shoulder.
“Lando,” you murmur, your eyes meeting his through the screen, a mischievous glint in your gaze. “If that was just a taste, I can’t wait to see what happens when we’re see each other again.”
The promise in your words sends a shiver down his spine, his mind racing at the thought of having you, really having you, right in front of him. 
“Fuck, Y/N, you have no idea what you’re doing to me…” His voice is a low whisper, his eyes still dark with desire.
“Maybe I have an idea,” you tease, your smile widening as you settle back against the pillows, your gaze never leaving his. “When I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe you should pick me up from the airport... and then we can do this again, but then in real life”
His heart skips a beat at your words, excitement and anticipation flooding through him. “You mean that?”
You nod, your smile softening, your eyes filled with a tenderness that makes his chest ache. “Yeah, I mean that. I want you, Lando. All of you.”
His breath catches, the sincerity in your voice, the way you’re looking at him, making his heart race. He knows, in that moment, that this isn’t just about sex, about fulfilling a desire that’s been simmering beneath the surface for years. It’s about more, so much more.
“Y/N… there’s something else I need to tell you,” he says, his voice steady but laced with emotion.
Your gaze softens, sensing the seriousness in his tone. “What is it, Lando?”
He hesitates for just a moment, gathering his thoughts before he continues. “I’ve been in love with you for so long. It’s not just about my text last night or about what we just did. I've been feeling like this for a while. It’s everything. Every time we’ve laughed together, every time you’ve supported me, every time I’ve seen you smile... I’ve been falling for you more and more.”
You feel your heart swell at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. Finally ready to admit it out loud. “Lando... I’ve felt the same way. I’ve just been too scared to admit it.”
He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief washing over him. “You have no idea how happy that makes me. I’ve wanted to say something for so long, but I was afraid I’d ruin what we have.”
“You haven’t ruined anything,” you say softly. “If anything, you’ve made it better.”
A wide smile spreads across his face, his eyes shining with emotion. “I’ve never been so thankful for getting drunk.”
You laugh, the sound light and filled with joy. “Me neither, Lando. Me neither.”
There’s a moment of comfortable silence, both of you just taking in the reality of what’s been confessed.
“So… when I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe we could start something real?” you suggest, your voice hopeful.
“I’d like that,” he replies, his heart swelling with happiness. “I’d like that a lot.”
“Then it’s a plan,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips.
"God, I wish I could kiss you now" he whispered, a small hint of disappointment in his voice.
And with that, you both know that this is just the beginning of something truly special, something that’s been waiting to happen for far too long.
Sequel
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Masterlist
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hanbinics · 3 months ago
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savin' water — c.s.
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pairing ⟶ christopher sturniolo x !femreader
contents ⟶ established relationship, showering together, suggestive content.
word count ⟶ 526
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“Move over kid, fuck,” Chris huffs as he opens the sliding glass door to your shower, prompting you to turn around in surprise.
“What are you doing?” You ask, gaze dipping down to realize that your boyfriend is completely naked and stepping into the shower with you, your eyes widening slightly at the sight.
“No—No, Chris, you’re not joining!” You sputter out, hands reaching out in an attempt to stop him from fully shutting the shower door again. “We’re gonna miss our reservations, I’m serious.”
You try to give him the sternest look you can muster, but your boyfriend just rolls his eyes and brushes your hand away from the door so that he can slide it closed. “Relax, ma, ‘m not gonna do anything. Just takin’ too damn long in here—might as well get ready together, save some water or whatever the fuck is ‘sposed to be good for the environment.”
Your eyes narrow the slightest bit, trying to gauge if he’s being serious or not, but he looks the most innocent you’ve ever seen him, so you reluctantly decide to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Fine,” you sigh, suppressing a laugh when he smiles, obviously pleased with himself. “But keep your hands to yourself,” you warn him teasingly to which he mocks your threat by saluting you with two long fingers at his head.
You turn then, back to the brunette while finishing up with the shampoo still needing to be rinsed from your hair. You can vaguely hear Chris humming to himself as he starts to get cleaned up, a small smile on your face as you listen.
“Baby,” you hum, eyes still closed while you run your fingers through your wet hair, “can you hand me the soap?”
You reach back with one hand, expecting the soap to be placed into your waiting palm, but when a few seconds too long pass, you frown in confusion. “Chris?” You try again, but when that doesn’t work either, you finally turn around.
You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when you see it—the way his darkened blue eyes rake over your bare body, watching the way water streams down your smooth skin. No part of your body goes unnoticed by him, although he’d be lying if he said he didn’t linger especially long on your tits—now that you’re facing him, he has easy access to the sight of the water falling between the valley of your breasts, your nipples pert and practically begging him to put one in his mouth.
You swallow beneath your boyfriend’s gaze. “Chris...” you trail off, but his name comes out a little more needy than anything else and you watch as his tongue grazes his lower lip.
“Yeah—listen, I know what I said earlier, ma, but.. shit—wasn’t thinkin’ ‘bout how you’d look like this,” he breathes out, shaking his head slowly as he finally glances up to meet your face again momentarily.
He chuckles breathily as his hands find your waist and slide around to the curve of your ass. “Think we’re gonna end up missin’ that reservation after all, baby.”
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©hanbinics
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shadow4-1 · 7 months ago
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I'm just imagining using a secluded space on base to do some yoga away from the 141, only to realize Ghost's been watching disapprovingly the whole time.
Like, what you lack in raw strength compared to the boys, you have in agility. You're not nearly as rigid. You're flexible, and it's only because you take the time to work on it. You have several methods but dancing and yoga are by far your favorite.
Neither hobby you can enjoy on base much, because well...you always get stared at. So, you take it upon yourself to clear out part of old studio space used for storage. It's kind of crappy, with cracked tile and dust bunnies galore, but it'll do. You play some music in your earbuds and do your beginning stretches on your mat.
When you're in the zone you're in the zone. You end up in a place far away and yet still within yourself. The burning stretch from some of your maneuvers feels so good you nearly groan. You get lost in the personal meditation. One certain position uses a specific pair of muscles in your lower back. It takes you a moment to realize why it makes you gasp. You bite your lip and decide to take a short break.
As you untangle your body you feel something's off. You're physically fine, but your heart starts to race. Your stomach lurches. You move to stand, suddenly startled by seemingly nothing.
"Yer doing it wrong."
And just like that Ghost makes himself known from behind a shelf. He's in his workout clothes, which isn't much but some slinky basketball shorts and a tank top. Black of course. His mask is the soft one he uses when he's not on the field.
You scoff at him, still feeling on edge but also relieved at no immediate threat.
"You do yoga?" You ask incredulously. "Fine, big guy. Show me how it's done."
He rolls out a mat and gestures for you to copy him. It's a simple move, one you've perfected. And yet he still shakes his head at your form. You try it again. Wrong. Again. Wrong.
"Where am I going wrong?"
You don't expect him to reach over and grab your back leg. He pulls it out further. You stumble and he rights you with the same arm. He tuts at you, but he's the reason you're off balance.
"Lift your back. No. Higher. Your hip should be down."
Next thing you know he's behind you, his large hands making your body twist and bend. You end up in the same position as you'd been in earlier, but this time you can really feel the stretch. Maybe he was right, you were doing it wrong.
You tilt your back up and feel the familiar stretch. It's better than you've ever been able to get it on your own. You can't help the soft groan that leaves your lips. The last time those muscles had been used was before you joined the 141, when you'd still had a boyfrie-
Two hands grab at those spots. Large thumbs work circles into the areas. Despite yourself, you moan. This was going a bit too far but...
The more he kneads the more you fall to your knees. You can't hold the position with your back up anymore. You practically collapse onto the mat, ass up, Ghost knelt over you.
He still doesn't let up. His thumbs dig into those circles hard enough it should hurt but instead you only feel bliss. You bite your lip, it feels so fucking good. Eventually he relents, and stops digging into you. You whine at the absence.
"That feels so good." You groan, voice sounding way too needy for what just occurred.
"M' glad." Ghost huffs amusement evident in his tone.
Ghost grabs you and flips you over onto your back. He grabs one of your legs and pushes it as far forward towards your head as he can without hurting you. He does the same to the other. It's a weird position, but it's not far off from some of the other ones you're used to. It burns but it also feels good. Considering you're flat on your back, you feel supported.
You smile up at him, a little breathless but also happy that he's willing to help you out. Yoga did not seem like something any where near his wheelhouse.
"I didn't know you liked yoga. How did you learn about this stuff?" You ask, using your own arms to hold your legs in position as Ghost gets up higher on his knees.
Ghost huffs behind his mask as he looks down at you. He narrows his eyes, his head blocking out the white light of the overhead flourescents. You feel a hand slide between the material of your shorts and the curve of your ass.
"The Kama Sutra."
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