#he looks older because he had to grow up faster

[watcher0033]

Great take on the Hobbie Age discourse!!!

Honestly it should be like this instead of some moral posturing that strip off the agency and personalities of the characters and casually throwing out heavy-loaded words like a huge stick picked out from the ground and waving it around as if it couldn’t poke somebody’s eye out and be an all around kill joy about it.

Ugh.

Not to mention there’s multiple sources who have said Hobie’s 15 (Phil Lord), 19-20 (some of the animation crew), and his canonical comic age is 16-17. And apparently PunkFlower already has a cult following SINCE their comic era so there’s that too.

On the other hand, I can’t help but laugh at the meta-comedic aspect of it all that of everyone, even his own creators, trying to put a label on a character who has claimed his dislike for said labels and doesn’t believe in consistency.

Da Powarh, Ser.

Cannot be contained, refuses to be contained. 🫡

Meta-humor aside, I completely agree with your essay there. I think the age discourse happened not just because of shipping reasons but also for the fact that he looked ambiguously older but still have more prominent bonds with the teenage-Spiders that the Adults— which should already be telling, c’mon.

But there’s also the fact that harsh experiences ages a person. Grief, stress, and depression affects people physically and not just mentally. Like, just look at Miles-42 with his harsher facial lines and overall “mature” look compared to our Miles. Look at the world he’s living in, the grief that he’s surely carrying about his father’s death.

We describe him as a darker version of Miles but we did not uniformly conclude that he’s older than him, or that he’s a more troubled adult version of himself now, did we?

Apply that same logic to Hobie with his surely troubled background of young teen vigilantism and political activism and the effects it had on him over the years, and that’s the chai honestly.

Thing is Hobie's age could add to the tragedy of his story because every spiderman story where the spiderhero is a teenager and has to risk their life to keep thousands or millions of people safe because of an incompetent safety system and capitalist greed is tragic. Why should a high schooler bear the responsibility of what hundreds of grown adults should be doing, and why does a high schooler need to be the one to clean up their messes and mistakes? And then that high schooler will have grown adults trying to kill them, entire police forces trying to arrest them, news media smearing their name, strangers always trying to take pictures or expose their identity, and always always always the uncertainty of family acceptance at the end of it all.

So with Hobie (bear in mind i don't know much about him) if he's really 16-17 in Across the Spiderverse, that means he's already been through a lot of the same shit that nearly every other spidey had to go through but at a younger age probably (and that Gwen was able to avoid and that Miles is trying to prevent). I didn't get the sense that he'd just come from a massive tragedy when we saw him in the movie. If he's had a police chief close to him die or be killed (by him maybe, idk) that's a lot for a kid to go through. Every other spidey offering advice to Miles was an adult. I'm not saying their Uncle Bens or Police Chief Scenarios weren't as bad, but they don't have the same freshness with it, you know? It's been years, maybe even decades.

Versus if he's on the older side, like 19 to 20, there's been more time to process, i think. More hindsight, more growth, which might give Hobie the best idea out of all of them of what Miles is about to go through because it hasn't been too long, but it's still fresh enough on his mind that he's got a semi-healed rawness that others might not (plus him being anti establishment/the "fuck canon" character would also make him want to help miles).

[jasvtsc]

beau arlen x innocent!reader.

warnings! mdni! smut. pillow riding. beau watching the reader. mutual masturbation. guided masturbation. age gap. fingering. fem!reader. innocent!reader. softdom!beau. slight corruption (not in the bad way tho). most likely grammar mistakes.

word count! 1.8k

dating the sheriff was definitely… exciting.

beau was older than you by A LOT, but it wasn’t one of your main concerns. he treated you right. he loved you to the moon and back…

and he was just so fucking hot.

the first time you saw him, your panties literally experienced their first flood.

sure, you had a few boyfriends, but it was never– that. his piercing emerald eyes, his broad shoulders, his handsome features and the way he carried himself. you were in awe and so much frustration, trying to figure out what was happening to you.

so when somehow you did end up dating him? yeah, it only got worse.

you had your own waterfall whenever your eyes landed on him. whether it was him trying to fix his truck with his sleeves rolled up, him manspreading and leaning back in his chair whenever you came to visit him in his office, or every time he was putting on his hat — you were a mess.

and the fact that you never had sex before only made it worse.

a few boyfriends? it never went past the phase of innocent kisses and holding hands shyly as if you were both carrying some kind of disease. growing up in a sheltered house definitely didn’t help. church every sunday, no boys allowed in the house after dinner, curfew and absolutely NO SEX BEFORE MARRIAGE!! it was one of the main rules in your home, and it stressed you out to the point where you weren’t even thinking about trying to at least pleasure yourself — you were scared that it’d be some kind of sin and your soul would be dragged to hell.

you were a good christian girl.

but that changed as soon as you started dating beau.

date someone your age, they said. nahh, you were in for the good ol’ cowboy with that strong drawl and a few silver streaks in his hair.

however, you couldn’t help but be scared. you literally knew nothing, and he already had so much experience. it was actually kind of intimidating for you. you were scared that maybe you wouldn’t be able to satisfy him enough or you’d do something wrong. that’s why you’ve been trying to avoid any intimacy at all cost.

and beau didn’t notice at first. he wasn’t with you for your body or physical pleasure. he was with you because you made his heart beat faster and charmed him with your cute little smile on your pinky lips with those sparkly eyes.

however, he did notice it at one point. well, more like he assumed it from the beginning. he knew you were innocent and that you’ve never really tried anything– you couldn’t keep anything from him even if you wanted to. also, you wanted to make sure he knew what he was in from the beginning. and fuck, was he going to hell for trying to make you lose some of that innocence. but he just wanted what was best for you– and that was helping ease some of your frustrations cause you were clearly a walking time bomb.

but how did he figure it out though?

well, after coming back from one of your dates, beau was driving you back to his place, his hand draped over your bare thigh because of how high your lavender sundress rolled up, giving it light squeezes from time to time. however, he decided to get more daring and slowly made his way up with his fingers. you didn’t seem to notice, too caught up reading something on your phone. but then, you widened your eyes and looked at beau, who had the same expression on his face as you. why? his fingers brushed against a damp spot on your panties.

it made his heartbeat falter, and he blinked a few times. so you did get excited around him. that’s why, as soon as you got to his place, he practically crashed his lips on yours, slamming your back against the wall and gripping your thighs tightly, lifting you and making you wrap your legs around him. he groaned and rubbed his already rock hard erection against your clothed core, making you gasp into the kiss.

fuck, that was getting serious.

“beau, i—“ you broke the kiss and looked at him with wide eyes like a deer caught in headlights. and just by that, he knew you were scared.

“i know, baby. i know,” he reassured, stroking your cheek with his knuckles, a soft smile on his lips. “we don’t have to do anything you don’t feel ready for, y’know?”

“but i want to. i just don’t want to do… that serious stuff yet,” you whispered and looked around as if someone would hear. beau chuckled lowly, then moved a strand of hair out of your face and cupped your cheek.

“then what do you want to do, darlin’? i’m all–“ but then he cut himself off and smirked as he got an idea. “you know what, actually, i know what we’ll do.”

with that, he carried you to his bedroom. he put you gently on his bed and gave you one of his pillows. you looked at him dumbfounded, tilting your head back, a faint pout on your plush lips that just made his cock strain against his jeans even more. fuck, he just wanted to know how it would feel if you were to su— not now, beau.

“we’ll try something new, ‘kay? something easy so you don’t freak out. do you trust me, baby?” he asked, stroking your hair. you nodded, looking at him like he was your everything, which made his heart warm up with even more love for you. he smiled and kissed your forehead. “good girl. now, get on that pillow and show me what a skilled little rider you are,” he patted your ass and then moved away from the bed, sitting down on an armchair nearby.

and once again, you were dumbfounded. “huh?” you asked, watching him manspread, his hand draped over his thigh and the massive bulge in his pants.

damn, you got even wetter.

this sight itself was enough to make you start moving your hips. slowly, you moved back and forth, trying to ease some of that feeling that pooled in your lower abdomen. and beau, seeing that, smiled widely, palming his crotch with his right hand, biting on the left one as it was formed in a fist.

“yeah. keep goin’. just like that, baby,” he praised, adjusting himself.

your mouth was practically watering because of that. you picked up your pace, grinding more fiercely against the pillow, enjoying the way your pussy was gliding on it, the fabric of your dampened panties only adding to the delicious friction.

soon, small gasps and pants started coming out of you. you moaned quietly and closed your eyes, your head tilting back. however, you were quickly reprimanded by beau and his stern voice.

“nuh-uh. eyes on me, baby. i want to see your pretty face when you ride that pillow,” he almost growled, the ache in his pants making him feral.

immediately, you obeyed, his dominance adding to your arousal. quickly, you tilted your head and looked at him. but when it was harder to keep up with your movements, you decided to shift. so you moved, and now, you were facing him while grinding your heat against his pillow.

beau groaned and palmed his dick harder. however, when that didn’t work, he huffed and unbuckled his belt. then, he unzipped his pants and lowered them down with his boxers, his massive cock freed from the refrains. you widened your eyes even more, letting out a whimper that made his erection twitch.

you bit your lower lip and observed him intensely as he stroked himself a few times, spreading the leaking precum and then pumping his cock to match the pace of your grinding.

“yeah. grind that little pussy on my pillow. imagine my face laying there after tonight, getting a good whiff of how desperate you were for someone to teach you how to pleasure yourself. i bet you’re gonna be humping your pillows more often now, am i right, baby? like a little puppy in heat,” he chuckled, licking his lips. then he spat on his hand and moved it back to his huge cock, pumping it even more aggressively.

“now, move your hand down, baby,” he instructed, watching as you obeyed his every word. “yeah, just like that. good girl. you’re so good f’me, baby, do y’know that?”

you whimpered, again.

“you make such pretty little sounds. jesus christ,” he panted and squeezed his dick harder. “now, move your hand under your panties— just like that, and rub your clit,” you were mindlessly listening to every word he was saying. as soon as your fingers landed on your swollen bud, slipping beneath the soaked fabric, and applying just a tiny bit of pleasure, your body jolted up and you gasped loudly.

beau grinned and increased the pace at which his hand was moving. “you’re doing so well. i’m so proud of you, baby. move your fingers faster.”

at this point, you weren’t grinding the pillow, but your hand as your fingers moved aggressively over your engorged clit. you were panting more frantically, your eyes wide and glazed from the pleasure.

and the sight of beau coming, only made it worse. his cum shot up on his shirt and hand, making him grunt lowly. he eased himself from his climax, seeing that you were struggling to get some relief. so he decided to take matters into his own hands.

he got up and kneeled on the bed, basically yanking you on your back. he tore your panties off and replaced your fingers with his, his calloused thumb rubbing your clit with experience. and then, you moaned loudly, arching into his hand as he snuck his fingers between your slick folds, propping your entrance. you almost screamed when he put his finger inside you, rubbing your velvety walls.

“fuck, you’re so soaked,” he groaned, feeling his cock get hard again. “yer gonna cum? f’me?” he asked with a smirk, adding a second finger.

and that was enough to make you come hard for the first time in your life. you moaned loudly, pressing your heat to his rough hand as your juices flooded his calloused palm. he kept whispering praises, helping you ride out your pleasure until you were spent, trying to catch your breath with the fucked out expression on your face.

beau smiled and moved his fingers out of you, making you whine in protest at how empty it suddenly felt. he licked his fingers clean and hummed in contentment.

“delicious. however, next time, you’re riding me.”

and to seal the deal, he grabbed his hat from the edge of the bed and with a playful smile, he dropped it on your head.

a/n: sooo yeah, my first smut ever💀 y’all better lmk what you think cause i have no idea if it’s good or not

༄♡tags: @beausling @titsout4nicholas @deanswidow @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @figthoughts @fitxgrld @a1ecmcdowell @hrtsoldierboy @10ava01 @angelicp0etry

[spxllcxstxr]

Mornings • S

(Gif not mine)

Request: Hello✨ I would like to ask a morning routine with Silco (head cannons or fanfic or a little bit of both, whatever you’re comfortable with, I don’t mind). Just describe how his routine changed after s/o appeared in his life or someone like this. With the best wishes and patiently waiting for the answer 🌚🫰-- anon

Summary: Silco adjusts to no longer living alone

Warnings: gn!reader raised in the undercity, established relationship though first time living with each other, food/drink mention, reformed bachelor silco doesn't know what breakfast is nor self-care lmao

Word Count: 962

A.N: Wrote this with young silco in mind because, let's be honest here, he's a bit more put together than his older self lmao. I'm also a sucker for longterm love so like, this is the first of many mornings you would experience with him ykwim lmao, first time writing silco! Enjoy!!!

•

The palm of Silco's hand is warm against your skin when your eyes open. It's still dark outside but the murky green hue of his bedroom windows offer you dim light.

Deep snores and faint whimpers emit from the man next to you, dark brows furrowed in his sleep. You dip your head down to kiss his forehead, hand running through his long hair at the same time. The tension eases from his pale face almost instantaneously. You smile at his sleeping form, now finally peaceful.

Moments later you quietly shift the covers from over top your body, placing Silco's hand beside him as well. He shifts at your movement, the mattress springs creaking underneath his bodyweight.

Growing up in the Undercity stressed the importance of rationing and saving food, meaning the three square meals a day the citizens of Piltover were used to were normally cut out altogether. Since then, however, Zaun’s food supply and imports had drastically improved and that along with your decent job wages, meals like breakfast had become important to you.

Cooking for two would be a change, certainly, but a welcomed one.

The chill in the air engulfs you as you move from the bedroom to the kitchen, which causes a slight shiver to move down your spine.

Yawning, you flick the light switch on. The sharpness of the yellow-white overhead light in the kitchen causes you to wince. The contrast of the brightness, or lack thereof, forces you to wake up a bit faster than you wished.

The light reveals a cluttered kitchen—not cluttered with pots and pans, but with various pieces of scrap metal and rusted screws. The counterspace is littered with schematics and maps of both Piltover and the Undercity.

Silco was usually a tidy man, his space at the Last Drop was well organized along with all of the other tiny rooms in the apartment. Clearly, the kitchen was not a space he frequented enough for his attention to be drawn to it.

Cracking your knuckles, you start shifting things over and away from the stovetop. You take everything flamible and place it precariously on an equally messy table.

After rummaging through the icebox, you discover a carton of mostly cracked or broken eggs, which were better than nothing. Getting straight to the point, you bring them over to the counterspace near the stovetop, which you light with one of Silco's lighters. The fire crackles to life, heating the pan above it.

"What in the world are you doing?"

You look behind you, pan still in hand. Silco stands behind you, leaning against the threshold to the little kitchen. His long dark hair hands loosely over his shoulders, fringe dangling messily over his face. Silco yawns, exhaustion still hanging over him.

The simplicity of his figure is a lot more attractive than it realistically should be. A red shirt is tight over his slim frame, causing your face to heat up. You're tempted to forego breakfast altogether in favor for grabbing your boyfriend by the hand and dragging him back to bed. He just looks that good.

But your stomach grumbles and your routine demands to be followed so you push that thought to the back of your mind, determined to act on it later.

His blue eyes take in the sight before him, you, still clad in your sleepwear with a small flame haphazardly lit underneath a small pan he doesn't recognize. Silco's brows are quirked up in confusion.

"Good morning to you too, darling..." You tease, rolling your eyes. Silco smirks, making your heart skip another beat. "And I'm making breakfast. Like a normal person."

"Breakfast? This kitchen hasn't seen the light of day since I've holed up here." His voice is raspy and deeper than usual. Blue eyes quickly scan over the room before landing back on your own. "As you could probably tell."

You nod in agreement, turning back to the task in front of you and the questionable carton of eggs off to the side.

"And I've been eating breakfast for years, so that's going to change now that I'm here."

"Is that so?" His voice is laced with a teasing curiosity that draws him towards you.

Silco stands behind you, breath just barely tickling the back of your neck. You feel his eyes carefully following your hands as they crack eggs on the edge of the pan. Steam rises as they sizzle against the hot surface.

You hum as you watch the whites of the egg turn opaque. It isn't any song in particular, just something you vaguely remember hearing at sone point in your life.

"I'm not used to this, dearest; this...domesticity," Silco mutters in your ear, this tip of his nose brushing against the sensitive skin of the crook of you neck.

"Maybe that's why you're so skinny." You tease, leaning into his touch. Briefly your eyelids flutter shut before returning to the unpredictable stovetop.

"Hm, maybe so." You feel his small smile against your skin. "If we were running on my routine, we'd already be out the door with a lukewarm coffee in hand."

With the eggs finished, you scrape them onto a freshly rinsed plate with a vaguely spatula-shaped item. Shopping for at least some sort of kitchen utensils was something you needed to do in order to make this place livable for someone other than your beloved Silco.

"Well this is your new routine, dear," You reply, placing a kiss to his cheek. "And you will love it."

With one hand placed on his waist and the other holding onto the plate of breakfast, you smile, almost like you're asking for him to challenge you on this. Instead, his eyes settle on your yours, signature smirk growing.

"I'm sure I will."

•

[moonchildstyles]

cherry

final part of pomegranate: the last of the firsts.

wordcount: 8.2k+

—————

Harry looked at the box in his hand with a pinch between his brows. 

Was he maybe getting a little ahead of himself? Sure, but there was such a thing as being under-prepared and that wasn't something he wanted. That was why he was in the middle of the personal hygiene aisle with a box of condoms in hand. 

Ribbed for her pleasure, or ultra thin? His brows pulled into a tighter furrow. Would any of these options really make a difference? 

God, how was he supposed to know which ones were going to fit? 

Reaching for another box, this one black with obnoxious gold lettering, Harry practically jumped out of his skin when a shopping trolley clipped the back of his shoe. In nearly the same instant a rushed sorry came from the older woman operating the cart. 

He turned to look at her over his shoulder, ready to wave off her apology, "'S alright, no worries." 

The smile he had pinned to his face dampened when he saw the woman's gaze drop to the now three boxes in his hands. Her eyes widened just enough that it was noticeable, even if she didn't want it to be. 

She attempted to fix her features into something much more pleasant, though her smile was strained. "Have a nice day," she muttered as she continued past, her steps a touch faster than was appropriate down an empty aisle. 

The interaction lasted for less than a minute, but Harry was going to be replaying her reaction for hours on end. At least the flush bubbling under his cheeks was going to be there, whether he liked it or not. 

Fixing both the knitted cap he had over his hair and the thick hood of his sweatshirt to shadow his face a bit more, Harry tried not to feel embarrassed. This was a very, very normal thing to be doing, buying condoms. 

Not that he was having sex or anything. It's just... the opportunity was now on the table and he didn't want to be ill-prepared. Should (Y/N) decide she wanted to share something like that with him, he didn't want to put a stop to the magic because he didn't have the magic stash in his bedside table like he was supposed to.

Not that they were having sex, though. Or even said anything that could allude to changing his virgin status. 

But, (Y/N) did tend to spend the night in his room more often than not these days. They weren't exactly glued to each other's sides since he'd been brave enough to confess his feelings those couple of weeks ago, but there was definitely a shift. 

Those kisses on the cheek had changed to pecks on the lips. Quick goodbye hugs were now lingering cuddles before they were separated for the work day. Quiet declarations of seeing one another later were now often punctuated with a new three syllable sign off. Nights in front of the television dissolved into sleepovers with a single shared pillow, murmured conversations to be had about topics it appeared neither of them had been brave enough to broach prior to the night in her bedroom. 

It was kind of like (Y/N) was his... girlfriend. 

Even the thought had a new flush touching Harry's throat and climbing up his jaw. 

So, maybe he was getting a bit too ahead of himself when he dropped two of the three boxes in his basket (the ultra thin and specifically sized ones). But, he thought to himself as he began perusing another aisle in search of a quick dinner idea, it might be nice to give into some of his hope. 

Hope that she trusted him just as much as he did her. 

—————

Hunched over his desk, Harry wanted nothing more than to step into this spreadsheet and rearrange it with his bare hands. Whoever was in charge of formatting these things was going to make him go into early retirement, no—

A delicate pair of hands settled on the shelf of his shoulders. Harry started at the touch, but melted nearly immediately. He was growing to know this touch better than even his own skin. 

A soft smile bloomed on his face when he turned in his chair, lifting his headphones off of his ears. Behind him, hands now dropped to her sides, was (Y/N). Pretty as ever, fresh home from work with her hair still pinned back and sensible trousers on her legs. She came to see him before even moving into something more comfortable. 

"Hey you," he smiled, looking up at her with what he was sure was stars in his eyes. 

"Hi," she greeted, reciprocating the curl of his lips. She made a move to sit on the edge of his bed before him, relaxing into the mahogany bedding. "How's everything going?" 

Rolling his neck when he realized just how close he had craned it to look at the screen, he let out a sigh. "'S alright."

"Is it the spreadsheets?" (Y/N) asked, already reaching to place a comforting hand on his knee. Her thumb worked a circuit on the side of the joint, soothing him down more than she even knew. 

"Yeah," he breathed, "I don't want to be a problem, but I feel like I've got to talk to someone at this point. 'M having to go back and fix each one before I can even get started on m'side." 

Her clear gaze was stitched right to him, a frown pouting her lips. "Don't worry about being a problem, H. It's not fair for you to have to do twice the work, and possibly get behind on what you're supposed to be doing. Say something." 

"We'll see," he sighed, encouraged by her words but not sold on the idea of making a name for himself in the office outside of being "Quiet Harry". 

He could tell (Y/N) knew where he sat on the fence, but she didn't push him. "We'll see," she agreed, tipping her chin up, "Until then, though, are you almost done for the day?" 

Glancing at the time on the alarm clock he had situated on his bedside table, he nodded his head. "I've got ten more minutes before I can clock out." 

Her smile grew larger at his words. "Good," she started, leaning towards him conspiratorially, "We should go out tonight. If you want, anyway." 

At her suggestion, Harry could't help the way his mind flashed to Collin—Cora's brother from the night at the bars—and the way he had attempted his hand at flirting with (Y/N) many times through the night. Going out again didn't sound particularly fun. 

"I don't know, love," Harry said, canting his head as if rolling the idea around, "'S been a long week, s—" 

"H," she muttered, jaw dropping in offense, "Are you rejecting me?" 

Harry reared back at her accusation. She'd never said anything like that when he said no to bar hopping before. "No, no, I jus'... If y'want to go to the bars, I don't think—'M jus' not—" 

"I don't mean going to the bars with Rue and everyone," (Y/N) clarified, her offense turning faux with a laugh entering her tone, "I was asking you to go on a date with me." 

Realization settled on him then. To be fair, if she wanted to spend a night out with her friends, she did usually mention who exactly it was that was going out. She didn't really just ask him, not the way she had tonight anyway. 

If you want, anyway. 

"I... I didn't know," he muttered, cheeks running red and warm, "Sorry." 

A bubbling laugh fell from her lips as she leant forward and pressed her lips to his cheek ,right where his dimple would appear when she made him smile. "I figured. But, if you're tired and all, we don't have to, I was just joking before. We can plan a different night if that's easi—" 

"No, no, I want to. I really want to." 

"You're not tired?" (Y/N) pressed, taking her turn at being the incredulous one. 

"No. Not for this," he cemented, eagerly casting the thought of Collin out of his head. "We can do anything y'want tonight." 

She raised a brow. "You're sure?" 

A definitive nod came from him. 

"Well," she started, eyes sparkling and giddy, "We could go to dinner at that Italian place we like. Or, we could do something new." 

Something new. Just the string of those words brought the nerves in Harry's skin to attention. That was how she described every first Harry had with her—something new. 

The condoms in his bedside table suddenly seemed to have a spotlight directly on the drawer. 

Blinking back to (Y/N) before she could catch his distraction, he answered, "Something new." 

Her smile grew. 

—————

"Wasabi just tastes like soap to me. I don't know, it's not that spicy it's just... sudsy." 

Harry laughed at the face of disgust forming on (Y/N)'s features. If he were in a movie, he could see himself letting out a dreamy sigh as he dropped his chin to his palm, leaning across the table to get a better look at his darling. Instead, he attempted to play it cool and only let a gentle smile settle on his face as he glanced at her through his lashes. 

"Y'haven't had the right stuff, that's all," Harry offered, tipping his chin up, "When I was in Ja—" 

"When you were in Japan, you had the real stuff, I know, I know," (Y/N) cut him off, a teasing smile on her lips as she pinched another piece of her spicy salmon roll between chopsticks, "Trust me, I haven't forgotten when you left me for a whole month." 

"You could've come with me," he sang, topping his head, "I think y'would've really liked it." 

And, he wouldn't have been texting her every day several times despite the time difference, clinging to her through a screen. He would've had her at his side, experiencing something he now held so dear to his heart. 

"Maybe next time," she cemented, the same way she always did when he brought up the expedition, "We'll just have to figure out a way to get me to sleep through the whole flight, so I don't get sick." 

He knew her request was nothing but a silly joke, but there was a part of Harry that was determined to find a myriad of ways to make it so she had nothing but a pleasant experience if he was lucky enough to get her on a flight with him. 

"I'll figure something out," he said, a determined pinch appearing between his brows. 

Underneath the table, her foot knocked against his, drawing his eyes ip from where they fell to the dish of soy sauce stationed between them. He caught her eye as she looked at him, an affectionate smile draped over her features. 

"You don't have to think so hard about it, H," she laughed, "I think we've got some time. We'll figure it out together." 

Together. Together. The syllables were enough to make his heart patter a bit harder behind his ribs. The two of them being together, forming an us. For the first time ever, there was a chance Harry would be more than an I and be something with someone else. All with the one person he deemed too far out of his grasp years ago. 

He suddenly felt sheepish, with a flush creeping under the collar of his sweater. They were on a real date tonight—all under (Y/N)'s request. He didn't think anything could beat an evening in with one of their shows on the television, but this sushi dinner was becoming stiff competition. 

"What?" she asked, knocking her foot against his once more.

"Hm?" Harry blinked, focusing his gaze on her once more. Just the sight of her was enough for the flush to climb an inch higher up his throat. That was (Y/N) sitting across from him, bathed in the glow of paper lanterns with her pretty, perfect, everything eyes on him. 

"What are you thinking about? You're getting all red," she pressed, a slight smile on her lips before popping another piece of her roll in her mouth. 

Harry shook his head, feeling the swirls of his hair drift across his forehead. "Nothing, jus'... you know." 

Was it lame to acknowledge the first date while you were on it? He thought at the very least it wasn't very suave to talk about how much he was blown away by the fact they'd even made it to this benchmarker when they were still sitting across from one another. 

"'You know' what?" She leaned over her plate conspiratorially, as if in search of a secret, "Did I miss something?" 

"No, I jus' mean," he started, dropping his eyes to where he pushed around the fallen rice grains from his tuna and avocado rolls, "'S still... 'S crazy, you know—us." 

Harry watched the way her lashes fluttered, eyes turning down towards her own plate for a brief moment. "A little," she agreed, "Mostly because we said I love you before we'd even gone on a date." 

A bubbling laugh left his chest. Things were most definitely out of order between them, though he wouldn't have it any other way. This route worked in his favor, even if it was years in the making. 

"Jus' a little backwards," he nodded, dimples denting his cheeks, "But, 's worked, right?" 

"Oh yeah, definitely," she said, nudging his foot with hers. A playful sparkle entered her eyes, a sly smile on her lips. "If you'd just told me you were a virgin earlier, we probably would have gotten here a lot faster." 

Harry choked out a laugh, feeling his skin heat that much more. Maybe the whole restaurant didn't need to know about his sexual status, but it was still funny. 

"I was nervous," he muttered, shaking his head with a shy smile. "Didn't think it was a very sexy thing to tell the girl I've been in love with for years." 

(Y/N)'s brows bounced over her eyes. "Years?" 

Buying himself a minute, Harry sipped from his drink. It wasn't a secret now that he was in love with her, but it still felt nerve-racking to share the details of one of his longest held secrets. He doubted that she would be completely turned off hearing just how long he'd had his eyes on her, but it didn't make it any easier to share. 

"Since university," he murmured, moving quickly to stuff a bite of his roll in his mouth.

Her expression warmed, full of rounded edges and soft eyes. "Really?" 

He nodded. 

"I can't believe you never told me," she smiled, giving away any attention she may have paid to her dinner to land right on him, "I mean, I know why now, but... I had the biggest crush on you when we met. I just never thought you liked me back." 

"You did?" Harry blanched. He remembered many things from those first few months with (Y/N), but he didn't remember a single moment of when she may have held any affection for him. 

"Oh yeah," she solidified, "Like, bad. I told, like, all of our friends about it. But, it never seemed like you wanted anything more than to be friends, so I kind of let it go. Obviously not completely, but I thought that if you wanted something, we'd get there when we were supposed to get there." 

"And y'think we're supposed to be there now?" God, he really hoped so. 

A grin stretched over her lips. 

"Oh, yeah. Definitely." 

So much giddy energy lived in Harry's body just listening to her. This was his real life? This was what that morning in his bedroom led to? 

Despite wanting to run around, scream, scale trees, and swim the ocean, Harry nodded his head. 

"Me too." 

—————

"You know," (Y/N) started, taking her shoes off to be left in a heap by the front door, "I don't usually invite anyone inside on the first date." 

Harry's grin was dreamy as he gazed at her. "No?" 

"Oh no," she shook her head, stepping towards him. "Never. You're the exception." 

Once she was close enough, she reached up to loop her arms around her neck. Harry, complete with a pounding heart, settled his hands on her waist. The curve was more familiar to him than he ever thought he would have the privilege of knowing. He just hoped she wouldn't be able to feel the way his skin was growing clammy under her top.

"Yeah?" he prodded, liking the game she was setting forth. "Why's that?" 

"Well," she started, "First of all, you live here"—she earned a laugh out of him for that one—"Second, you made me laugh a lot tonight. Third, I think you're really hot." 

Even though he knew she was playing around, attempting to make him laugh, it was nice to hear her say those things. 

"I do live here," he cemented, tipping his head before tipping his chin down to face her, "But the rest... you mean that?" 

"Harry, you're the funniest person I've ever met," she said using the leverage of her arms around his neck to pull him lower, "And you know I think you're really hot, right? Or have I not made that clear enough?" 

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Maybe you need to remind me." 

Harry only saw a quick flash of the eager grin on her face before she rose to press her lips to his. It was soft and affectionate, the way she slotted her lips against his. He pulled her top lip between his two as he pulsed his hands on her waist. He could taste the honey dessert they shared at the restaurant lingering on her mouth. Even more so when he felt the barest sweep of her tongue graze his lip. 

He could feel his skin already beginning to warm, his chest pounding. The condoms he'd purchased sprung to the forefront of his mind. 

Was he being too presumptuous that she would want to sleep with him just because they'd gone on a date? Was he looking too far ahead when he pictured her wrapped in his sheets once more? It was too much to assume that she would let him replay the moment before he went on his knees for her, when he laid above her with her legs around his hips, pelvises slotted together. Right? 

It was (Y/N) that drew away first, blinking up at him with glittering eyes. "Are you okay?" 

"Hm?" His brain wasn't working very clearly at the moment. 

"Are you alright?" she asked again, concern painting her features, "You seem distracted. We don't have to do anything, you know. Just because we went on a date, and all, it doesn't mean we have to." 

His hands on her waist tensed when he realized what she was saying. She thought he didn't want to do anything more with her tonight? How she could have arrived at that conclusion when he was the one clutching at her waist as he hungrily kissed her, he wasn't sure. There were times he was sure she was living in his mind, hearing his thoughts and understanding everything he wanted before he had the chance to utter a word. Other times, like this, he wasn't sure how they were even in the same room. 

"That's—No—I'm... 'M fine," he cemented, "I jus' didn't want to make you feel like we had to do anything." 

She blinked with a flutter of lashes. "I mean I want to, but it's up to you, H."

He figured it would be a bit embarrassing if he had the mind to think of anything but (Y/N) and the turn the night was taking, but there was no time for that. Not when he had to keep his imagination in check, lest he pull her a little too close to his body and she realized just how eager he was to hear her words. 

"I want to," he rushed out, tongue tripping over itself, "I really want to." 

A small grin curled (Y/N)'s lips. Her arms around his neck shifted until she curled the strands at the nape around her fingers. "You really want to?" 

She was trying to play around with him, get him to laugh and ease him through his confession, but that wasn't where Harry's mind was going. He pulled her flush against him, feeling every curve and dip of her body against the rigid muscles of his own. He wouldn't be surprised to hear that his eyes had gone dark, pupils blown. 

"I want you," he cemented, a grumble to his voice. 

Harry watched as (Y/N)'s expression dropped into something liquid and hazy. Her lips parted with brows downturned. He couldn't help but imagine this is what she would look like pleading for him, dilated pupils and soft features. 

A beat passed. 

"Your room or mine?" 

Harry didn't have to think: "Mine." 

—————

Harry was restless as he laid back. Clad in a bold move of only sweatpants, he couldn't help but play with the strings at his waist. (Y/N) was still in the bathroom, cleansing herself of the day before returning, leaving him with too much time to himself. 

Was he ready for something like this? He didn't doubt that this was something he wanted to do with (Y/N), but he worried. Was he going to feel different in the morning? Was she going to feel different about him in the aftermath? 

God, what if he was bad? 

Maybe he should tell (Y/N) he wanted to go to bed, that he was a little too tired. That would be best, right? That way he wouldn't be able to disappoint her, or himself. When she came back, he would tell her that he really loved her still, he just wasn't feeling well—maybe he'd blame it on the sushi? That' would be believable, and then he could hope that she'd still share his bed with him and then they'd wake up in the morning and everything would be as it always was and he wouldn't have to worry about—

Stepping through the threshold, (Y/N) wore a large shirt and a smile. The makeup she donned for their date was washed away, leaving clean skin and curled lashes behind. Her hair was loose, framing her face as she gazed at him. She moved with familiarity through the room, padding on socked feet over his floor. 

"Hi you," she said once she reached the edge, climbing on the mattress towards him. "You look comfy." 

He swallowed around his dry throat. He couldn't keep his eyes off of the stretched neckline of her sleep-top, giving him a view he wanted so badly to feel bad about glimpsing. 

"Um, yeah," he muttered, blinking back to reality when she joined him on his pillow, "Jus' waiting for you." 

"Well, I'm here now. No more waiting, right?" 

No more waiting. The thought had his cock stirring in his lap. 

"Right," he muttered. 

Reaching out, (Y/N) placed her hand on his cheek. Her fingertips breached the baby curls on his hairline, thumb coasting over the height of his cheekbone. "You're still alright?" 

"Yeah," he whispered, "'M jus'... nervous." 

The curl on her lips was comforting. "What's making you nervous?" 

He turned to face her, laying on his side with their noses only inches apart. His eyes traced over her features, noting the small blemishes and marks over the soft skin, the places he wanted to kiss so badly. "I want it to be good. I want to be good." 

"You are going to be perfect. We'll be in this together, there's nothing to be scared of." 

"But," Harry started, dropping his eyes from hers to line over her jaw, "I jus' don't want to disappoint you. 'M worried I waited too long." 

A pinch appeared between her brows, incredulous. "You waiting is not going to make you disappoint me. You did what you felt was right for you, and that's okay. I mean, honestly, this is working in my favor—more for me." 

He let out a breathy laugh as she bounced her shoulder. This was the reason he had made it this far with her. She did nothing but ease him, comfort him, make every breath worth it. "You think so?" 

"I know so," she cemented, tipping her head to press her lips to his chin, "No matter what, anything that happens—or doesn't happen—tonight, isn't going to change how I feel about you. You've already got me." 

He could feel his breath being taken away. You've already got me. 

All Harry could manage to croak out was, "I love you," before he caught her mouth in a kiss. 

There was an urgency behind the affection that they hadn't started the evening with. This time, he tasted the crisp peppermint of her toothpaste only to be overpowered by the raspberry taste of her lip oil. The scent of her lotion perfumed around him, wafting through his nose and tinting his thoughts with vanilla cotton clouds. He reached out and caged an arm around her waist, pulling her tight against him. 

Their legs tangled as (Y/N) parted her lips for him. It was her that gave the first swipe of her tongue over his bottom lip, tasting with a breathing moan. Harry felt his brows knit in the middle, fingertips denting into the plush of her form. He wanted so badly to be closer to her; feeling her against his body wasn't close enough. Especially not with layers of clothing between, no matter how threadbare her top appeared to be. 

Slipping his tongue against her own, (Y/N) let out another moan into his mouth. She hooked her leg over his hip as she swept her tongue through his mouth, tasting one another more than he'd ever thought he'd have the privilege of doing. Her hand on his cheek wandered until she was sliding through his hair, nails on his scalp until she found her way to the pillow cushioning their heads. 

With her hand stationed on the pillow and leg hooked over his thigh, she made the move to roll their bodies. Harry kept her steady with his arm a cage around her waist, helping her as she moved to sit astride him. 

Harry couldn't help himself when he pulled away, eager to see her above him for the first time. (Y/N) looked down at him with swollen lips and glazed eyes. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths, her breasts pressing into the material of her top, nipples outlined. He could feel the weight of her on his lap, warm and heavy over his thickening cock. 

He was sure a look of awe molded his face, only heightened when he ran his hands over her body. The barrier of her top couldn't shield him from feeling the dips and curves. He felt the swell of her breasts and ladder of her ribs as if nothing were in the way. The heat of her form radiated out of her, painting over his already warmed palms. 

"You're so gorgeous," he muttered, feeling compelled to bathe her in praise and nothing but. "So, so gorgeous, love. 'M so fucking lucky, oh my god." 

Her smile was sweet over her kiss-swollen mouth. "I'm the lucky one," she argued, "If you could see what I see right now..." 

She trailed off when her attention was handed to the route his hands took over her body. He wanted so badly to concentrate on her words, but how could he do that when the hem of her shirt was pulled tight over the expanse of her thighs. He tucked his hands under that taut hem and pulled upwards. A breathy silence filled the room. 

More and more of her body was revealed as he tugged. Plush, dreamy thighs. Flared hips. Bare, panty-less core (he wondered if she felt the way his cock reacted at the sight). Soft stomach and curved waist. Soft skin blooming with goosebumps when he reached her ribs. The underside of her breasts. Harry's hands stalled then. 

(Y/N) nodded down at him, the permission he was looking for. 

In one final tug, Harry pulled her shirt over her head. The material fell into a pile on his floor, out of sight out of mind. Especially when he had what he did on his lap. 

Bare for his eyes only, (Y/N)'s body was presented to him in soft dips and swells. Her nipples were tight over her breasts, chest heaving as she pulled in deep breaths. Her skin was warm, soft and fragranced, drawing him in like a honeybee to a flower. Everything he ever needed was right before him—inside and out. 

He could feel his jaw go slack as he grazed his hands down her shoulders, skating down her breasts and soft stomach. All the way down to the bones of her hips and plush thighs. 

Only one thought came to mind. 

"I love you." 

The gentle smile on her face felt out of place compared to her dilated eyes and Harry's hard cock. "I love you too," she replied simply, dropping down to press her lips to his, "So much, H." 

A careful roll of her hips over his took away his breath. His mouth stilled under hers, parted in a small gape as she moved her kissing to the very corner. He frantically grabbed at her hips, fingertips denting into the soft flesh. 

He felt every tightening and shifting of her muscles when she gave another dragging rock of her core against him. Against his chest, he felt the tips of her breasts grazing over his skin. 

Fuck, she was naked. (Y/N) was naked on top of him. She was fucking him through his clothes. What the fuck is his life, what the fu—

(Y/N) swirled her hips, disrupting the shy rhythm she was developing and Harry's breathing. 

It was clear, even through the material of his sweats, that she was wet. She really did want him no matter what he lacked. 

The thought had him tightening his hold on her hips and thrusting upwards. It was (Y/N)'s turn to let out a squeaking breath, taken aback. He was sure she was able to feel just how ready he was, how desperate he was to have more, feel more, touch more of her. 

"Harry," she started, a pitch to her voice, "I—Are you.. If you're ready, I-I am. Please." 

"I am, I am," he muttered, "Jus'... I have something, hold on."

Blindly reaching for the bedside table, Harry rooted around the drawer. (Y/N) was more than distracting as she dragged her hands down his chest, bringing him back to the last time he felt such soft hands grazing his skin. 

But, he needed to focus. He needed to find the box and open the flap and pull out a condom as quickly as he could. In hindsight, he realized it might not have been the best idea to buy two separate boxes; now he couldn't be sure which one he was grabbing until it was on. 

"Do you need hel—Oh." Blinking back to reality, he saw a smile bloom over (Y/N)'s lips. "Did you buy condoms?" 

"Um," he muttered, "Maybe?" 

(Y/N) reached into the drawer herself and pulled out a foil packet with ease. She handled the shiny square, sitting back on his hips above him. 

"A little presumptuous, don't you think?" she teased as she tore the top off, "You know it's not good to assume." 

With his hands on her hips, thumbs sitting in the creases between her thighs and the small of her stomach. "I mean, you are in my bed." 

A bubbling laugh filled his room as she threw her head back. "You're right. You're just well prepared, I guess." With the foiled packet ripped open and ready, she looked at him with raised brows. "Did you...?" 

He swallowed, fighting off the sheepish flush that wanted to bloom over his bare chest. "I've never put on one before." 

"I can do it," she assured him, that gentle, patient smile on her lips. 

All it took was a nod from him before (Y/N) shuffled over his form. Sitting back, she made enough room to pull the waist of his sweats to the middle of his thighs. His cock bobbed out, ruddy head already throbbing with a thick vein on the underside. The chilled air of his bedroom was enough to have goosebumps flicking over his form. 

When he saw (Y/N) pull the rubber from the packet, he knew it was going to be in his best interest to look only at her face. He wasn't going to be able to handle the sight of her handling his cock, not when he was already so high strung. 

Of course, that plan went down the drain the second he saw her curl over and press a precursory kiss to the head of his cock. 

Why the fuck would she do that? Why would she do that when he was already teetering on the edge of his control? He could feel a blurt of precum drip over his crown. 

"Sorry," she muttered, stretching the condom from the coil made in the foil, "I just missed it and all." 

What the fuck? 

Harry didn't have another moment to dwell when he felt her begin to roll the condom over his length. He hadn't even recovered from her kiss before he was contending with the soft of her hands once more. She must have plucked the ultra-thin style from his drawer with the way he could feel every cease and ridge of her palm. His balls drew up tight against his shaft, matching the coiling pit he felt in his stomach. 

His hands on her hips grew tense, holding her tightly lest he lose control much too early. He knew good and well he wasn't going to be able to last very long at all tonight, but he didn't have to give in this quickly. 

"Does it feel okay?" (Y/N) asked, decidedly breathless compared to just a moment before.  

"Yeah, yeah," Harry babbled as she continued to stroke her hand over his length, "Feels so good." 

Too good, he wanted to amend. The muscles in his thighs and abdomen bunched, readying for something he couldn't allow to happen yet

He could hear the smile in her voice when she let out a small good but he didn't have it in him to play around or listen to her teasing. He needed to be inside her before he cut the night short before it even began. 

"S-Stop, stop," he said, reaching out to stop her touch, "Sorry." 

"Too much?" she asked, already adjusting where she sat on his thighs. 

"Too much," he agreed, "Don't wanna—Not before we've—" 

"I know," she said, filling in the blanks his stumbling left behind, "Sorry." 

"Don't be sorry," he breathed, "I love you." 

A soft blink of her lashes, short smile on her lips. "I love you, too." 

Truthfully, Harry thought he would have a moment before she moved again. But, he had to watch in awe as she raised to her knees, shuffling to hover above his stiff cock. She muttered something when she reached for his length, holding him steady before looking towards him. 

"You trust me?"

 His heart could have cracked right through his chest and made its way right to her then. "I trust you." 

Holding his breath, Harry watched as she sunk down on his cock. The warmth hit him first. 

Never had his hand—covered in lube and his own body heat—had ever felt that warm. She moved slowly, allowing her pussy to split open on him as she accepted the tip inside her channel. The tightness hit him next. He thought her throat was snug, but that had nothing on the way her walls pulsed around him, sucking him deeper and deeper. He could feel the ridges and texture, completely unique to the woman above him. Just how wet she was hit him last. A slick noise sounded when she sat down on him, clit hitting the thatch of tamed hair at his base.

He had disappeared completely inside of her. Breathless noises left (Y/N) as she adjusted, her own eyes going a bit glossy when he dared to match them. She wasn't even moving, staying stationary above him, and yet he could feel the way her insides fluttered around him each time she attempted to catch her breath. 

Her thighs were spread wide around his hips, chest heaving and skin bubbling with warmth. She placed her hands on the small of his stomach, palms molding around the blocky muscles on his abdomen. Her fingertips dug gently into him, the clarity of her nails pressing into his flesh was enough to tie him to the world. 

"(Y/N)?" he murmured, voice broken. 

"Sorry, sorry," she squeaked, "Just give m-me a second. You're—oh my god, H, you're—" 

He wanted to know exactly what it was that she thought of him, but it was its own fantasy to see her so out of it. To see her unable to even complete a sentence when he was inside her. 

Fuck, he was inside her. 

Harry was having sex with (Y/N). Holy shit. 

Almost involuntarily, he rocked his hips upwards. Her pussy clenched around him. He watched as she exhaled, the air pulled out of her. 

A call of his name filled the room, pitched and dreamy as she blinked at him with half-lidded eyes. 

"Tell me," she started, swallowing around her tongue, "Tell me if it's too much, okay?" 

Harry couldn't manage any words. He only nodded his head. 

As he watched her raise herself to her knees, his cock sliding out of her, Harry held onto her hips like a lifeline. He was going to have to hope against hope that he didn't immediately cum the second she sank down again. 

Unceremoniously, she dropped back down to his hips with a soft slap of their hips meeting. Her pussy fluttered around him, adding to the friction of her tight opening squeezing down his length. 

"Shit," he murmured, his toes curling and hands tightening. 

Spurred on by his reaction, (Y/N) performed the action against, curating a rhythm with every drop of her hips against his. Her slick opening was like a vice around him, her wetness dripping down until it smeared across his base. His balls slapped against her rear everytime she sat down, knocking the breath out of her in small uh's leaving her chest. Her breasts bounced above him, nipples tight in the open air. 

Harry laid back in awe. Pure amazement coated his brain. How pleasure like this could exist, and he could partake in it with a woman like this was a miracle in itself. 

"(Y/N)," he moaned, reaching his hands over her body. He couldn't touch enough of her, feel enough of her against his skin. "You're so—fuck—'M—" 

"I know, I know," she rushed out, nodding her head as she moved her hands to land atop his. "I want to cum with you, I want to cum with you."

 "I—I don't—" he stumbled. What was the hottest way he could tell her that he was already on borrowed time? "'M sorry, love. Y'feel too good, I can't—" 

(Y/N) cut him off with a smear of her lips against his, laying flush against his body. Her breasts pressed against his chest, sweat trapped between their bodies as her hips continued to rock against him. He couldn't help himself, bucking up against her as her walls pulsed around him. He swore he could feel the pounding of her heartbeat through their skin, the cages of their ribs.

Moans spilled from her lips as she rolled her hips against his, clit pressed against his base. Every thrust upwards, meeting her in the middle, was enough to knock calls of his name from her chest. Pussy gave snug sucks around him, pulling and pulling and pulling at everything he was willing to give. 

Her kissing was messy, off centered and clumsy, but it was the best he'd ever had. His favorite. She was his favorite everything, the best (albeit, only) he'd ever had in every way possible. His eyes scrunched closed, features screwed up in pleasure he only just realized existed. All at the hands of the woman he loved.

"Harry," she murmured, voice heavy and thick as it fanned over his mouth, "Harry, you can fi-finish whenever you want. You don't have to wait—oh my god—wait for me." 

He wasn't sure when he started speaking, but eventually he could hear the rambling mummer of his own voice declaring that he loved her over and over again. His hands roaming over her body turned into a hugging vice, keeping her tight against him as he offered sloppy kisses. His hips bucked in short, clumsy thrusts against her, the soft slaps of their skin mixing wit the slick noises of every inch of him sinking in and out of her opening. 

She was so wet, and warm, and tight, and, fuck, this was a dream. This whole moment, this night, this life was a dream he never wanted to wake up from. Not when here he was able to feel (Y/N)'s body against his, and her heart hammering out of her chest in reach of his own. Not when she was kissing him and soothing him with her own declarations of love. Not when he trusted her more than anything. 

In the pit of his stomach, Harry began unraveling. His throat ran dry, a soundless gape parting his lips. (Y/N) moved her kissing to the side of his face, over the bridge of his nose, one the height of his cheekbones. 

Different than any time he'd managed to get himself off, he was barely aware of the first ropes of his cum spurting from his body. He was much too enveloped in the feel of (Y/N) and her body to realize that the extra warmth he felt was his release filling the condom. All he felt was the blinding relief of the pounds of tension flooding from his bones. He tried to keep up with (Y/N) meeting her hips halfway as she rocked above him, her own rhythm being disrupted by the hold he had on her, but there was no room in his brain for control over his body. 

He was left to the mercy of the harsh thrusts upwards, coinciding with the roping of his cum. Clarity only sunk in when he began to come down. His release came in short bursts then, matching the aftershocks he felt at the motion of (Y/N)'s body above him. 

Drawing away just enough, (Y/N) cupped her hands around his cheeks. "H?" she asked, breathless. 

"'M here, 'm here," he croaked, nodding his head in jerky motions. "'M so sorry, I didn't—I wanted us to be together, I jus' couldn't—" 

"I know," she cut him off, her voice ever patient despite the heat lacing her veins, "It's okay, it's okay. I don't mind, I'm just happy you felt good." 

"I feel perfect, you're perfect." He could only hold her tight against his chest, uncaring of the sweat glistening on his skin. He felt better, more complete to feel her so close. "Did you...?" 

From where she burrowed into the crook of his neck, (Y/N) shook her head. "But, it's okay," she rushed out, "I don't nee—" 

"No, no," he started, "Tha's not fair, you—I want you to feel good, too." 

"I did," she insisted, "I do, but you—" 

A gasp escaped her when Harry fit his hand between their bodies. He reached where they met, hips locked together until he met the top of her slit. He could feel the way she had split open to accommodate him, slick and puffy from the way she had bounced atop him. Her clit throbbed when he pressed the pad of his finger to the bud, coinciding with the squeaking that came from the back of her throat. His own throat let out a strangled moan when he felt the way her walls fluttered and tightened around him. 

"Harry, you don't—oh my god—" 

He didn't pay her fumbling words any mind. He didn't care if she didn't think this was necessary. He wasn't going to be like the rejects before him that made so many claims and pretended to be the best, only to let her down and push her to go home without release. While he was sure he was far from her best (that would come with more practice, he hoped), he was at least going. to make sure that she left his room with something worthwhile. 

It didn't take very long before he felt her become impossibly warm around him, slick dripping around his cock. The ultra-thin rubber around his cock did little to dull the tight vice of heat around him. His breath was knocked from his lungs, his skin hypersensitive as he worked her through her own orgasm. If he hadn't already just cum, he was sure that feeling just her release alone would be enough to make him grow hard and desperate again. 

Floating back down to earth, Harry knew she was back with him when she pressed a small kiss to the line of his jaw. 

"Thanks," she peeped.

Harry let out a bubbling laugh, the edges of his voice dipped in exhaustion. "Don't thank me for that," he muttered, holding her tight as he slipped his hand away from her clit, "You're silly."

He could feel the way she smiled hearing him call her the same thing she always did him. 

"Love you," she crooned, "A lot." 

"Love you more," he countered. It was the truth. 

He couldn't imagine another being in the whole universe could be capable of holding the amount of love and affection he currently housed in his body. Not when he was the one getting to hold the most perfect woman life had to offer. 

(Y/N) nuzzled into his neck. "Sure," she teased, giving into his game for now, "We need to get cleaned up, H." 

Harry shook his head, keeping her close to him. "Five more minutes. Please." 

She didn't say anything, only melting against him. His eyes fluttered to a close, content.

—————

Harry's eyes followed his finger as he traced it down the line of her nose. He felt the even puffs of breaths fan across his hand as he reached the tip. A small, sleepy smile touched his mouth. 

He wasn't sure how early it was or just how long it'd been since he cracked his eyes open, but in the quiet of her bedroom (washing his sheets was a task they pushed off for today), time didn't seem to be real. Eternity existed in this small moment, letting him memorialize every plane and line of her features. If he could, he would lay here for the rest of his life counting each of her lashes. 

He thought he would feel so different this morning, wrapped in her sheets. He thought that his skin would feel different, or the way he felt about her might have shifted. He thought there might have been some invisible barrier that would have been lifted, something that made it clear that he wasn’t who he was a day ago. But, Harry only felt like himself. 

If anything, there was an anxiety that had lifted. There was more of him to give and he wasn’t afraid to do so. As long as it was with (Y/N), anyway.  

Focused on the sweep of his finger over her lips, Harry hadn't realized he wasn't alone until her mouth came to a pucker and kissed his digit. Flicking his gaze up to hers, he found her just barely blinking her eyes open to see him in the same morning light he was admiring her in. 

"You're awake," he murmured, voice rumbling and low. 

She gave another kiss to his finger before her mouth bloomed into a smile. "You're awake and still in bed," she teased, "Last night must have really done a number on you." 

"A little," he smiled, "Worth it." 

Tipping her chin just so, she pressed a single kiss to his lips. She took a moment to nudge her nose against his own, an affectionate puppy's kiss, before rolling away. 

Harry watched as she stretched, a breathy whimper squeaking from her chest as she curled her toes and elongated her arms. 

"H?" 

He hummed an acknowledgment, eyes drawn to the lines of her body. 

"Is it too soon to ask you to shower with me?" 

"No," he rushed out, "I mean—yes! It's not too soon, no. Yes, I want to shower with you." 

"You're silly," she laughed, shaking her head before turning her sights on him. 

The smile she had on her lips was warm and pretty, creasing the corners of her eyes. He'd follow her anywhere when she looked at him like that. Even into the unknown.

He trusts her.  

—————

cherries are thought to be the first taste of love; the fruit picked by Venus.

:)))))) final part!! o really hope you all liked going on this little journey with me! the h is so special to me so I hope you liked him and his story like I did! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and pleaseeeee let me know if you have any fun ideas or anything you want to share!

[multi-fandom-imagine]

I am just thinking of poor Stan feeling like you're out of his league! He's so much older than you, he has a criminal record, and all he is is a con man. He just doesn't undertaker how you look at him with so much love and adoration.

A/n: STOP I WANNA CRY 😩, poor Stan

It was obvious to everyone that you were out of his league. Well everyone but Mable thought he was, the 12 year old growing rather fond of the moment you said you liked her sweater.

He could practically hear her voice ringing in his ear.

'Everyone deserves love Grunkle Stan!'

But you two were far from being similar, you were rich, some distant repetitive of the Northwest and he conned people out of money, soft saps like you. He hated you, well he should have but he couldn't. Not with how kind you were.

Stan's heart couldn't help but race a little bit faster whenever he see's you defend Mable, couldn't help but love how you went along with whatever the two ideas the twins had cooked up. He really doesn't know when he fell for you since he tried to deny it for so long.

Maybe it was that little giggle you did during that whole Summerween fiasco when he stole that shit from the store or it could have been how you were the first person to side with him against that snot nose brat Gideon. Though it didn't matter really because it's not like he was going to mention it! Ever!

Well it would have been the case until Mable caught wind of it, he swore she was part bloodhound since he thought he hid his feelings so well.

But...if she hadn't stepped in then he'd never realize that you'd felt the same way.

Now that was something he could not wrap his head around, he felt like he had a heart attack when he found out because why? Why would you? How could you love him?

Stan was older than he was, he knew he wasn't some model but you were out of his league. You were younger than he was and beautiful, god's you were beautiful. He didn't know why....how you could ever look up at him with such love, such adoration because in his mind he doesn't deserve it.

He doesn't deserve you. Yet you stayed by his side through it all.

Through all the weird shit when you could have ran for the hills like most people in his life but you stayed, you stayed and that was something nobody could ever take from him.

You weren't blind to the looks, deaf to the whispers when people saw you and Stan out and about but it didn't matter to you. You were an adult, an adult that happened to be in their late 30's so his age was never an issue to you.

Sure he conned people, you saw that shit happen with your own eyes but it was the little things that nobody saw.

It was his insecurities, Stan thinking he's never enough, always believing he's living in someone's shadow.

It was how protective he was of Mable and Dipper, that he would do everything to keep them safe.

Not to mention how he looked during that whole zombie catastrophe, you never thought you'd seen something hotter than that.

No one saw how gentle he was with you, how he'd do his best to make you laugh with his corny jokes when you were upset, how he'd hold you when you'd two sit together then again you didn't care because know matter how much they talked, know matter how much they looked you would always love Stanly Pines.

Hovering from the door frame near the kitchen, Mable couldn't help but feel giddy. You had fallen asleep against Stan's chest, the man's arm wrapped protectively around your waist as he muttered in his sleep.

"Another match done!"

"Are you talking to yourself again?"

"Dipper shhhh! You'll wake them!"

[xomakara]

Can't Help Myself

SUMMARY |  Mingi comes home early from a trip to find his best friend's older sister, you, roaming the apartment in a large shirt and panties. And god, does he want you.

PAIRINGS | Mingi x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked

GENRE |  smut, roommate!Mingi, brother's best friend trope, older woman/younger man trope, non-idol au

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), female masturbation, fingering, oral sex (male/female receiving/giving), dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, vaginal penetration, kitchen sex, creampie, squirting

LENGTH | 5,744 words

TAGLIST |  ---

NETWORKS |  @illusionnet @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @othersideoutlawsnetwork

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Hi. Hello. This was supposed to be 2-3K words but it ended up longer. It's literally just smut lolol. And those Mingi pics for CK? geezes. Hope you all love and enjoy this. Love you ❤️

In your defense, you thought you were home alone so you didn’t second guess your wardrobe choice before walking out of your room and into the kitchen to rummage through the fridge for a snack. You really should have made sure first though.

You didn’t think much of it when your younger brother Yunho asked if you wanted to get a place with him and his best friend. It was a little more spacious, a lot nicer than your dorm room on campus, and still close enough for you to go to and from school and work easily. You knew Mingi, Yunho's best friend, forever, but when you told your parents they had suggested you take precautions. Mingi may have been a family friend of sorts but he was still male and he would be living there.

Both you and your brother dismissed their worries completely, assuring them Mingi had been like a younger brother, despite the year age gap, growing up and you could count the amount of times you ever heard him say anything even remotely perverted or gross to be none. But despite all this, you all still made a pact with your respective members of the household that your individual bedrooms were to stay firmly shut at all times and privacy would be respected and vice versa.

Earlier that week, Yunho said that he and Mingi would be going on a trip, somewhere with a bunch of their other friends, while the weather was still good. It would have been a trip you would have taken too, but you couldn't. School and work kept you here. You figured you would just catch up with everyone when they came back home.

They left a few days ago, leaving with a loud goodbye before you gave yourself the all-clear, allowing your usual messy, comfortable sleepwear to take over. It was going to be a relaxing day at home with no one there to scold you and you were going to do as you pleased.

Fast forward a few days later and you’re now standing in front of a confused Mingi, wearing nothing more than an oversized t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder and boy-short panties, leaving very little to the imagination.

Both of your arms are frozen, neither able to speak as you meet each other's gazes, Mingi's eyes darted lower as your arms come down in a sudden jerk to shield your exposed form from his eyes. His stare doesn't falter, but rather it hardens, taking everything that he can, burning the image into his brain.

This is Mingi, the family friend who played games with you and shared candies when you were younger. He was the same Mingi you would tease mercilessly as children before asking him, not so secretly, for advice about how to date a guy. This is the same Mingi you danced next to in the living room until both of you became nauseous because your moves had you spinning and twisting faster and faster. And it's the same Mingi you watched slam several cups of beer down like it was water during house parties like it was nothing. He had a bit of a track record for picking up girls with ease, the kind of guy girls looked up to and talked about dreamily whenever they thought no one could hear them.

Sure you had a silly crush on him growing up but you knew Mingi didn't think of you in that way. He treated you like an older sister and it showed. An older sibling was all he was likely to ever see.

But here and now, with the look Mingi is giving you, that all seems to go right out the window. If you thought his stare was hot when it was at eye level, there was no word that could come close to explaining how the scorching temperature went up even more in the downward, suggestive direction his stare had shifted.

For a moment you think you hear a hushed, muffled grunt come out of him, but it's gone as soon as it appears.

"M-mingi?" you mutter, clearing your throat a little. "What are you doing back so early?"

Mingi's expression doesn't change, if anything it seems to darken even more and if it was possible, you are sure he is undressing you even more with his eyes than before.

"Oh, uh...hi, noona. I had to leave early due to work," he says slowly.

You wait for more information, an explanation, something but he doesn't give one.

"... and?" You encourage and your response is an almost devilish-looking smirk. It has a strangely charming effect on you, but at the same time is enough to cause heat to flow through you, settling and concentrating at one very specific spot. You've never seen him look at someone like the way he's staring at you and you are surprised you didn't get caught on fire.

His eyes flick up and down your form slowly once more before locking on yours again and he stands up straight from the door. "It doesn't matter. I'm back now."

Damn. Now you had to go back to being dressed while stuck in the house alone for who knew how long.

"U-uh... okay? Alright, um," you swallow and squirm uncomfortably under Mingi's steady gaze, hoping he doesn't hear the way the breath catches in your throat. "I'm gonna go get dressed."

You wait, feeling incredibly awkward as he watches you without moving, but finally, after a moment Mingi turns and goes in the direction of his bedroom.

“Y/N-noona?” You hear him call out to you as you move away, feet already in motion toward the safety of your bedroom.

“Yeah?” you reply.

He leans against his bedroom doorway and sends a mischievous, somewhat predatory grin at you, causing your entire body to tingle at his intentions.

"You don’t have to cover up if you don’t want to. It’s not fair to you if Yunho and I get to walk around the place shirtless and you don’t. I won’t tell Yunho." he says simply before stepping into his bedroom and closing the door with a soft click.

You let out a deep exhale the moment you shut your bedroom door behind you, pulling a hand up to rest on your chest, feeling the rapid beating of your heart. Your knees felt weak and suddenly the image of Mingi had burned itself so deeply into the back of your lids that every time you closed your eyes, the image of Mingi smirking darkly at you made its appearance, causing a fire to flare up in you.

With a shaky but needy whimper, you find yourself falling into a heap on your bed. You rest a hand flat on your stomach, allowing your mind to fill with images of Mingi, remembering the feeling of his hard, broad shoulders from the hugs you would receive, his defined arms that seemed to give you comfort the times you got them wrapped around your form, and that confident, slightly cheeky smirk you had witnessed him sending at the female population several times.

You make sure the door is locked, not knowing whether you did it out of fear or need before the hand on your belly slowly slides down, fingertips gently ghosting along your lower belly, slowly heading for the cotton of your panties. They dipped below and you let out a tiny sigh at the touch of your hand between your legs. It was a tiny, delicate touch, yet it felt like sparks had erupted all over, tingling down your spine and in between your legs. Your teeth dug into the bottom lip hard in a bid to control your whines as one lone digit traced small circles, building you up.

It's not the first time you have pleasured yourself and had Mingi on your mind while doing it. You can't even count the many nights you spend laying in this very same position, imagining Mingi there. What his kisses would be like. The way his hands would glide along your body, causing you to arch into his touch, craving more contact from his body, while he pressed searing kisses all over your neck and chest, murmuring filthy words only the two of you could ever hear. 

What your mind is occupied with as your hips squirm a little are all the different scenarios you can think of. At first, your movements are small, just small pushes and rolls of your hips against your fingertips. You find yourself wondering what Mingi's hands would be like. How rough would he be or would he want to savor your body, lavishing the soft curves of your body with gentle touch, kisses, and teasing bites until he got closer to where you needed him? Would he be dirty? Would his words be enough to make you blush with his raw, sexual cravings? 

The sounds, oh the sounds he could draw from you.

Your breath hitches when the tiny moans coming from you make their way up and out of your lips and as good as this feels it's still not enough for you. Your imagination runs wild. The Mingi in your mind is taking control now, turning you around, the deft hands moving to knead your breasts, a warm, wet tongue swiping up the back of your neck, moving up until a hot mouth sucked, grazing your earlobe with his teeth.

And when the imaginary feeling of Mingi biting you while one hand trailed down the planes of your body before slipping beneath and your fingers move exactly the way you are fantasizing his hands were, in this situation, you find yourself burying your face in the sheets, doing your best to muffle all the noise coming from you.

One, two, three curling fingers are all it takes, and you have brought yourself to the peak already, the fire inside you burning, scorching even. The small coiling heat within your belly unraveled and you bit your pillowcase as hard as you could, hoping the soft fabric of your bed would block out all of your noises.

As soon as the fire dies out the heaviness of your eyelids overtakes you and it's a struggle to pull off the shirt you wore and slip beneath the blankets. As soon as you're settled though, the comfort and warmth of the bed sheets caused you to fall into a deep slumber. You dream of Mingi, thinking about those fantasies but you aren't waking up anytime soon.

Little did you know that Mingi was dreaming of you, trying to relieve his own arousal.

The next day, you wandered into the living room, this time in lace panties and a scantily thin tank top. Your feet pad slowly on the hardwood flooring of the apartment. A small groan came out of you as your feet padded into the kitchen area, your hair a mess, eyes heavy with sleep and your hands worked on the buttons of the small coffee machine to make yourself something to wake up with.

"Oh, Y/N-noona..."

You jumped, yelping, spinning to see Mingi leaning against the wall, his shirt hanging open, his usual black jeans hanging low on his hips, and his brand-name briefs sticking out above them. He was half grinning, eyes trailing your half-naked form before a smirk tugged on his lips.

"Don't mind me. Keep doing what you were doing," he walked towards the kitchen island to grab a cup for himself, not bothering to close his shirt at all.

You stared at him, suddenly unable to form words, only watching him and swallowing heavily as you eyed him up and down shamelessly. How many mornings have you woken to the same view as today? Yes, Mingi walking around shirtless was not uncommon, and yes, you've always tried to not focus too much on the planes and ridges of the muscles. You stood there, your fingers drumming along the counter, unable to turn away and ignoring the burning at the back of your neck as he turned around to face you, meeting your gaze head-on as you met his gaze.

For what seems like hours it's just you standing in front of Mingi, letting his gaze slide over the whole length of your body as you both stand motionless. You finally seem to break and turn around to do the task of preparing yourself some coffee. You are close, so close. The water drips into the little mug and then a shadow envelopes you from behind, heat spreading across your backside, something heavy against your ass.

Instantly you stiffen and turn your head to see Mingi has moved in close behind you, so close that you can feel his warmth and breathe on your neck.

He wasn't touching you, he was holding himself still, and in the beginning, you are unable to detect whether he is purposely pressed up against you or if his tall body is only bent at such an angle that it leaves your butt right underneath him.

When his hands grip the counter at either side of you, your attention focuses on his hold, noting his position is to have the two of you locked into place and that's when you realize how serious Mingi is with his intentions. He hasn't said anything and neither have you, the only sounds that have left the pair of you are your short gasps and sharp intakes of air.

When he rests his chin on your shoulder, the intimate pose has the effects of a powerful drug and your knees go weak. One long breath enters through your parted lips before his hips press into yours and there was no mistaking Mingi's arousal against your back, how stiff and prominent he was. His body is locked into position and there's no escaping.

But do you want to?

"Tell me to leave, and I'll leave," his voice rumbles low with a husky edge to his tone. "Now's your chance."

It's a challenge, a clear dare like he knows full well you don't want him to leave, even though he offers the option to. It's just a question. 

You decide now.

Your eyes drift down. You know that underneath that expensive-looking underwear and his tight, dark-wash jeans, the cock pressing into you is everything you've ever desired. A muscle twitches under the touch of a hand. Another tense, loud swallow, and you manage to glance to your side.

"Mingi?" you breathed out softly, your words barely above a whisper, so silent that the thrumming of blood in your ears was almost overshadowing your words.

"Hmm?" Mingi answered, turning his head a little, his face now mere millimeters away, and the anticipation you feel makes your stomach flip. Your thoughts are clear. The vision in your mind is real. Your senses are acute, and more sensitive than ever. But for whatever reason, words refuse to come to you. It was one of those moments of wanting to speak, knowing what needed to be said but it was a struggle.

Your lashes flutter and before you know it, your lips capture his.

A low groan vibrated in his chest the instant your mouth came into contact, his eyes sliding shut and arms snaked around your middle, pressing you completely back into him. The hand by your hip clutched you as you turned in his hold and pressed your chest fully into his, fingers sliding into his hair.

The feeling of being up against him like this is sending every single part of you into a heightened state and everything he touches sets your skin on fire. It's a tight embrace and when he lifts you effortlessly onto the kitchen counter you immediately wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him as close to you as possible.

Mingi pulls your head back, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You bite down on his bottom lip and his hands roam every single part of you and every curve your body can offer him. The second he pulls away, a single whine leaves you, already missing him, but at the sight of the look in his eyes, all coherent thoughts go out of your head. You stare up at Mingi who is just looking at you with a glint of smugness in his eye that tells you the guy knows what he's doing to you.

"Want to know something, Y/N-noona?" His deep raspy voice has you staring intently into his eyes as his hands glide down and cup your butt, squeezing the plump globes.

"Uh-huh," is your dazed response, followed by a deep breath. The sudden change in Mingi from a moment ago was impressive and honestly sexy. You swallow, staring into his eyes, the tiniest bit of hesitation, nervousness, and anticipation fluttering around in your belly.

"I've been in love with you since I was fourteen," he mutters, staring at you intently, his hands coming around and grasping the edge of your lace panties. "I stopped thinking of you as an older sister. And then every time I look at you, or think about you, my imagination runs wild and sometimes I can't help myself."

And with that his thumbs dip past the lace, stroking the tender skin there.

"O-oh," you bite your lip and curl your fingers, your mind swirling, intoxicated by the desire in his voice and his eyes. His fingers are still moving and Mingi moves forward, closing the gap between you two, lips pressing into the corner of your mouth as your hands come up, resting on the sculpted pecs that send every thought flying from your head. "Thank god because I've had a huge crush on you for a damn long time, Song Mingi."

Mingi let out an amused chuckle, before giving you a heated look, and the next time he pressed his mouth against yours he was no longer timid and gentle. He is more confident and aggressive, more demanding of what he wants, but you welcome it, giving him exactly what he was asking for, not having the will nor strength in you to push him away.

"Tell me where you want me," he says in between breathy pants against your lips, kissing you once more and his tongue slides into your mouth, reaching for every nook, wanting to be inside you in some way.

His actions, his hands stroking, his kiss, his scent surrounding you...everything has your senses, all of them, overwhelmed and your fingers tighten into his hair, a desperate sound escaping you.

"Fuck Mingi...I need you to eat me out," your words make Mingi give a low groan in the back of his throat.

You barely had a moment to catch a breath before his face disappeared downwards, your thighs resting on his shoulders. Mingi pushed the sheer material of your underwear to one side and slid a finger between your wet lips and let out a moan that sent an electric surge throughout you when he touched your aching clit.

You gasped and squirmed and his name left your lips. You're not quite sure whether your gasps were out of embarrassment or how good he feels but the moment you feel Mingi's tongue stroke against you, all thoughts are replaced by pleasure.

"F-fuck, Mingi" you breathed out shakily.

Mingi's lips curled into a smile, making a 'hmm' sound deep in his throat. Every vibration from that only makes you squirm against his lips and the things he was doing to you, his lips and tongue licking you out like you were his favorite flavor, like he wanted nothing more than to have you all to himself. Your moans were the icing on the cake, rewarding him further as you pushed yourself against him and had no other option but to clutch at his hair and beg.

All sorts of needy words and noises fell from your lips as you closed your legs, trapping him between them, and pulled his face deeper into you as Mingi alternated between licking and suckling you. He continued to kiss and suck on you, pressing his lips flat, open, and covering every bit of exposed skin. Your moans had only gotten louder and needier as you felt your release beginning to build up, getting closer and closer to the edge.

Suddenly Mingi stops and the next thing you know, you're thrown over his shoulders, his strong arms gripping the backs of your thighs firmly and keeping you secure. He threw a cheeky grin your way before carrying you off to his bedroom, using one arm to shut the door behind him before dumping you unceremoniously onto his large, soft bed.

The bed itself was so soft you sunk in a little, his silk, blue-colored bed sheets smoothing the action. This wasn't the first time you were in his bedroom, having gone in and borrowed games or clothes that had been left there. 

But this was the first time being in his bed.

"You look really good laying in my bed, noona. You look like you fit right in this spot," he chuckled deeply. "Let's see if we can make this scene look even better."

He pinned you on the bed and captured his lips to yours and your back arched at how amazing the weight of his body was on top of yours. Maybe it was because Mingi was very tall but laying on his bed, with his body pushing you into it felt nice. Not the sensation of being forced down, but the kind of nice where Mingi's scent, his body, everything just melted you.

A moan ripped through your body when his hands palmed you through your thin tank top. They traced every contour they could find.

"Shit," the man hissed. "You've got great tits."

His thumbs swiped back and forth over your nipples and it took less than ten seconds of the combined work of Mingi's mouth and fingers to turn you into a trembling, pleading mess. Mingi licked his lips and then he slid his fingers down to play with the elastic of your lace panties, the back of his fingers brushing lightly over your soft skin and the smirk never left his face.

"Mingi...can I... can I please suck you off?" Your heart was thumping loudly in your chest, heat bloomed all over your entire body and his face was suddenly pulled into a huge, teasing grin as he crawled up towards the head of the bed.

"You wanna taste it, noona?" He asked. "Go ahead then. Show me what you can do with that pretty mouth."

Your eyes couldn't look away from Mingi's as you moved slowly on your knees to follow him as he sat himself against the headboard of his bed. Without hesitation, your fingertips moved to push aside his undone shirt, exposing more of his bare chest. Leaning down to kiss his torso, his abs contracted while he sucked air in. When your lips met the elastic band of his briefs, you looked up and his eyes were completely focused on yours.

"Noona..." he breathed softly, licking his lips at the sight of your doe-like eyes staring up at him. "Look at you. Take what you want, noona. Do what you need. Use my cock as your plaything, doll."

Fuck. He's driving you crazy. 

The thought of having him like this has been a fantasy of yours, not that you had admitted it to yourself until just now, but your dreams are now becoming a reality. You slipped his briefs down, just enough to free him, letting out a hum in satisfaction.

"All for you, noona," Mingi kicked his pants and briefs off, smirking as he spread his legs out for you, wanting you to get closer.

God, Mingi was gorgeous. Not just because of his features but because he had the personality of an amazing man who made his way into the hearts and minds of everyone who met him. And with a body like that, well... who could resist him? No one you know.

Wasting no time, you wrapped your fingers around the base of him, your tongue starting the journey from the thickest section and licking a path from root to tip, sucking his crown between your lips. Your mouth enveloped the first few inches and you hummed when you were rewarded with a low grunt that told you everything your touch was doing for him was satisfactory.

"Noona. What the...how are you...so...good...?" he was at a loss for words, Mingi's sentence left in broken segments when his tongue got tangled. His reaction, however, was music to your ears. He tried to sound put-together, calm, and collected, yet his grunts and groans weren't lost on your ears as you worked him.

He was thick and hard in your hand, growing harder and longer with every bobbing motion your mouth did along his length. There wasn't anything better to hear than the man's own low, heavy groans when you tried deep-throating him or your name whimpered as a low, almost chant when your pace increased. His head dropped back onto the pillows. He was able to just relax and watch, one hand curling softly into your hair.

"You like it, Mingi? My hot, wet mouth on you? You like watching your big dick disappear in my mouth, babe?" you asked.

"So, you do have a dirty side to you, huh?" His low chuckles send pleasant shivers up your spine and cause heat to coil within your abdomen once again. "Fuck, noona...you're so fucking sexy right now. How the fuck can anyone expect me to act sane in front of you? You look so good sucking me like that. Look at me while you're sucking, Y/N-noona."

"You know...I've always fantasized about taking your cock deep in my mouth," you whispered seductively. His eyes met your gaze, watching as you bent and gave the head of his cock a delicate swirl with your tongue.

"Really, now? What else has my naughty Y/N-noona fantasized about, huh?" Mingi's eyes closed and let the bliss that was his imagination take over, biting his lip with a sexy smirk and looking delicious with how laidback he was.

"Mm, many things," you sucked him into the hot cavern of your mouth. You watched Mingi's chest as it rose and fell. "You fucking me, your cock splitting me open. Stuffing me with your cum. Marking me as yours."

With Mingi's eyes half-lidded, his groans are louder, deeper, and longer. The strokes and motions from your mouth bring him to the edge.

"Are you a squirter?" he asked, his eyes peering down, meeting your gaze again. He looks mischievous, and his tone dripped with lust and suggestion. His head tips back, his hips thrust forward as a deep, rumbling growl tore from his throat.

"Why don't you find out? If you think your cock can make me scream loud enough to squirt all over it," you challenged, one eyebrow raised up at him.

"Challenge accepted, noona," his lips twitched upwards in a lascivious smirk and that is when he sat himself up. Gripping the back of your head gently, he was very clear in his instructions. "Now open wide. Be a good noona, and make sure you swallow everything."

Obedient, you did as he asked, parting your lips and ready to taste every drop Mingi offered you, taking it like the good girl you wanted to be for him. And when it finally happened, the salty tang burst against your taste buds, Mingi growling your name and encouraging you to take everything.

"Come here, sweet thing," he growled, reaching out and grasping at the backs of your thighs, pulling them apart until you straddled him. He tugged your panties to the side before lowering you onto his erect cock, slowly so you could adjust to him. "Damn, you look so sexy with your panties pushed aside and stuffed full of me."

Settling yourself on his lap and stuffed full to the hilt, you grabbed the edge of your tank top and lifted it over your head, throwing it somewhere in his room. Mingi groaned at the sight of your fully naked upper body on display to him and he quickly busied himself by reaching out to run his fingertips over your nipples, making you arch into him, gasping at the feeling and your breathing erratic.

You grabbed the headboard of the bed. "Wanna bounce on your cock, Mingi."

His hips instantly jerked against you at those words, groaning as you slowly rolled your hips to get a feel for the movement before finding the speed and rhythm he liked, panting heavily when his head went up so he could focus his attention on your breasts bouncing and his name leaving your lips. Mingi held a strong grip on your sides to help steady your body before you felt his long tongue flick one nipple before wrapping his lips around it.

You were pushing his open shirt off his body so that you could finally admire how beautiful Mingi's body is, so fit and muscular and he let out a happy sound at how eagerly you were trying to touch every inch of him that's exposed to you, how willing he is to let you do as you wish.

"Look at you taking every inch so perfectly," his voice rumbles deeply, almost in a groan. His fingers trailed lightly up your chest, gently cupping your cheek. The tender gesture only lasted mere moments as you began to roll your hips harder, bouncing faster, moving around him, going in circles, grinding up against him. "You like how big my cock is, Y/N? Like the feel of the my cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy? Does my cock hit just the right place?"

"M-mingi..." you squeaked. He feels so thick, so full, all of it deliciously stretching and opening your wet core in ways you didn't know you needed until now.

He takes you without the need of force, every touch and movement filled with patience, and his groans are husk and raspy and deep, and you keep wondering how someone can even be so vocal. Everything Mingi did had you panting for more, pushing for more.

"Love you, Y/N-noona," the male growled, digging his nails slightly into your thighs before letting his palms glide upward and rest on your ass, squeezing and spreading you apart to give him a full view of you. His breathing was quick and his muscles tense. The room was filled with the scent of sex, both of your heavy pants mingling in the air around you as sweat began to glisten both of you.

“Love you too,” you moaned.

Your fingers brushed the top of his shoulders, trailing upwards and into the silky, damp strands of his black locks as you bucked your hips in response, giving him even more depth in your tight core. Mingi continued to gyrate upwards, keeping up the relentless pace you set. He let out an airy groan every few minutes. His body arched towards you. His grunts were desperate, more guttural.

"Fuck, noona," he groaned. "I could watch you ride me for a lifetime."

"M-mingi," you whimpered, letting out a noise when he squeezed your ass cheeks before he dragged a long lick up the valley between your breasts and flicked one pert bud.

"Look at us baby...so good together," Mingi crooned, taking one of your hands and bringing it down to the apex of your bodies, so your fingers brushed against the part where you joined. "Touch yourself, sweet girl. I want us to cum together."

Doing what you were told, you began to rub tight, frantic circles around your clit, and after only a few strokes, a tingle zinged through your pelvis.

"Fuck..." you whimpered, squinting your eyes shut, feeling the knot of pleasure unfurl. “Mingi, I’m going to cum soon.”

"Cum for me," Mingi urged. "Wanna see you fall apart around me."

He gripped your ass and guided you until it was only the head that was left inside you and his deep grunts increased as he slammed back up into your dripping core, deep strokes in and out of you, hitting the perfect place at each stroke. The familiar tightening in your belly returned, growing stronger, building towards an immense climax. Your walls constrict around him, the man moaning with you at how good you feel when he hits his release, coating your walls white.

"F-fuck! Oh shit, oh my god," you yelped, unable to resist, coming undone, squirting all over him as you'd teased and promised, screaming his name loud and unabashed, squeezing him tight, your arms clasping around Mingi's neck. He lets out a husky, broken laugh before collapsing back, dragging you down with him.

"I never would have guessed," Mingi mused breathlessly, stroking the underside of his spent cock while you came back to earth, "That you were a squirter, Y/N-noona. Of all the other surprises about you tonight."

A laugh, somewhere between exhausted and relieved bubbled out of you. "You...are so fucking amazing, Song Mingi."

There is a smile in his voice as he replies. "It's nice hearing that, especially after the kind of mind-blowing sex I just experienced."

Another moment or two and you begin to shift. You wanted, no you had to, clean the mess you made all over Mingi's amazing abs. Moving as if trying to untangle yourself from the tall male. “God, I need to shower.”

"Nope. If you're going, then I'm going," he gave you a quick kiss before looking down at his mattress. "I need to change my sheets anyway. Can't sleep in this bed."

"Pity that," you let out a little laugh before turning into his warm, naked embrace. A blush forming across your cheeks when his hardened length brushes against you. "I was hoping for more."

He pushed your hair aside, your bare back becoming exposed to his dark gaze. Leaning down, he began nipping at your ear. "Maybe..." he began slowly, "We could, y'know, try it in the shower? Maybe in the kitchen, up against the wall... Your bed...?"

"Sounds...wonderful," you moaned softly. "Where do you want to start, big guy?"

His strong arms encircle your waist, his eyes heated with desire. "Wherever you want."

[dark-fics-4-you]

Number One Fan ch. II

StepBro!Rafe x f!Reader

Warnings: somno, noncon, smut, fingering, masturbation

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Rafe had been having trouble sleeping.

Ever since you tagged along to his football game and then the bar afterwards a few weeks ago, you had been the only thing on his mind.

At first, he had tried to push his feelings towards you aside. He tried so damn hard to not act on any of his urges. It took all of his energy to turn his focus from your sweet smile and beautiful eyes, so innocent and naive.

The first time he jacked off thinking about you was an accident, kind of.

He had actually been trying to think about a previous hookup he had a few months ago. Rafe lay back on his bed, stroking his cock and grunting under his breath, when your face flashed across his mind.

Before he knew it, he was staring at the creamy white substance coating his cock and fingers, realizing that he had just made himself cum faster than he ever had before, purely because he was thinking about you.

But the strangest thing?

He didn’t feel guilty at all.

After that first night, he had done it every day for a week in a row.

Unfortunately, this didn’t satisfy his desires.

It only made them grow.

Rafe knew that you were a virgin for two reasons. One, you had told him many times, which had always made him feel proud, for reasons he didn’t fully understand until now. And Two, he had chased away any guy who so much as looked at you funny.

The idea that he could be your first, that he could have that connection with you, made him so hard he physically ached.

He still wasn’t fully sure what compelled him to check on you that night.

“Y/N/N?” He whispered as he neared your bed, not even sure if he even wanted you to be awake. You had always been such a heavy sleeper.

He paused when he saw you, stretched out in bed, wearing just panties in an effort to cool yourself in the North Carolina heat. His dick throbbed, pushing against the thin material of his boxers.

His tongue flicked out to brush his upper lip at the sight of your breasts. He had never been able to fully appreciate you in this way, and now his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you stretched out, not a care in the world as you peacefully dozed.

You were so beautiful, so perfect. So special. Rafe had never felt this strong of a feeling towards anyone before.

You were always so sweet and good for Rafe, your big step-brother, who you trusted. Completely, blindly. Rafe felt like he needed to reward you for being such a good little sister.

He just couldn’t stop himself.

And what you didn’t know, couldn’t hurt you.

Right?

Carefully searching through the top drawer of your dresser, Rafe grabbed one of the pairs of panties that he would kill to see you in.

He pulled his throbbing cock from his pj pants, stroking it as he gazed at your sleeping form, bunching up the panties in his hand before he spread some of the material over the tip of his cock, enjoying the feel of the silky material of your panties as he stroked himself.

Nearing your bed, he was careful to climb into it silently, not disturbing you at all.

He stared at your soft thighs and the thin layer of cloth that covered what was beneath, mouth watering as he slowly pumped his hand up and down his shaft.

It’s wrong, he thought. It’s wrong, it’s wrong, it’s wrong.

Before he could think twice, his free hand was creeping forward, delving between your thighs with a feathery soft touch. He grew closer to your core, fingers dancing over the soft skin of your inner thighs.

Carefully, he slid your panties to the side with his middle finger, before gently spreading your legs.

Rafe’s cock throbbed in his hand as he looked at your tight pussy, on display just for him. He pumped harder, biting back the groans that he wanted to let out.

Slowly, he brought his middle finger to your slick folds, gently running a finger up your slit. How could you be so wet when you were just sleeping??

He took it as a sign.

When your older step brother gently pushed one finger into your tight warmth, he nearly came just from that.

He ventured slightly deeper, watching your face carefully for any signs that you were going to wake up.

After pushing his finger in to the hilt, he curved it inside you, and he was shocked to hear you sigh in your sleep, a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whimper.

You were enjoying it! The idea shocked and thrilled Rafe. Here he was, fingers inside you as you slept, and you were fucking whimpering and gasping at the feeling.

Curiously, he brought his thumb to your clit, hovering over the sensitive bundle of nerves before he slowly began to circle it.

At this, you let out a genuine, honest to god moan, and it was the sexiest thing Rafe had ever fucking heard.

He wanted nothing more right now than to force his cock into you and fuck you till you were nothing but a pathetic, quivering mess, coming over and over again around your big brother’s dick.

But for now, he could be satisfied with this.

He stroked himself faster, choking his cock with his hand as he imagined burying himself deep in you.

With another curve of his finger paired with the pressure on your clit, you came undone, tightening around his finger and whining in your sleep as he slowly fucked you through your orgasm.

It was all too much for Rafe. You were so wet, so fucking tight, the perfect lil sis, allowing him use you exactly how he needed.

He groaned softly under his breath as he came. Sticky, white cum pushed out of his cock and onto your panties as he slid them up and down.

The blond was still for a moment before he realized he needed to get the fuck out of there.

His head was spinning, he couldn’t believe what he had just done, the lines that he had just crossed.

He quickly pulled your underwear back into place, leaving no signs that anything unusual had happened.

Rafe stuffed the panties he had ruined into his pocket as he walked out, turning at the doorway to look at you one more time.

You didn’t need to know.

It could just be his little secret.

Chapter III

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

My baby, my baby…

Summary: Leon is a man pushing 40 and you’re a girl in her early 20s. You confessed your feelings but things went south.

Warning: age gap. literally any older version of Leon. reader is young. female reader. haha guess what? it’s sad again.

a/n: I love mitski <3 still mad I didn’t go to her concert. Guys I love writing, I feel like I’m god waiting for shit to happen. TEEHEE.🤭 also, should I make a part two with smut?

(pt.1) (pt.2)

“You're my baby, say it to me” - Mitski, I Bet On Losing Dogs

You hated him. Well not really. You just hated the way he made you feel when you two were in the same room. Your heart beat faster and you felt your face grow hot. You had butterflies in your stomach every time he did something. And you felt stupid because he’s a man twice your age.

You did what you always think is best, avoid him. To which you failed miserably. You both worked on the same team on the DSO, of course you were bound to be next to him. It was as if the universe was mocking you. You couldn’t help but feel guilty. This man, poor innocent man, probably doesn’t know that he has someone so much younger after him. He must be worried about missions and not dying, while you were here crushing over him.

It didn’t help the way he would talk to you, distant but polite. He didn’t hate you, he just thought you were too young to experience such a miserable life the DSO puts on its agents. He wants you to live life. To be a normal girl in her early 20s. He wanted you to have the life he wished he had. He wished you would live your 21st year way differently than when he was 21.

But those thoughts remained unspoken. Neither of you actually spoke about anything besides work and missions. You tried to find excuses to talk to him but he would just stare at you in silence as you talked. He wasn’t mad, he just stood there. (Like this lol🧍‍♂️)

Professional and polite conversations turned into jokes. One time, during a meeting, you were sitting next to Leon and the poor man looked like he didn’t get an ounce of sleep. Chris was talking about some mission in Antarctica and Leon couldn’t help but grumble a stupid joke about all the penguin shit roaming around. It was such a stupid joke but you laughed. When Leon heard you laugh, he turned his head your direction and stared at you with a raised brow. He smirked to himself and laughed a little bit. It was funny to both of you.

From that moment, he became more warm towards you. When he saw you, he would nod at him. And you being you, a delusional lover, gushed about how much he is in love with you.

You managed to break the ice exterior he had because he would look at you with soft eyes every time you got near him.

-

But things changed when you confessed your feelings to him. The softness in his eyes disappeared and he looked at you with the same distant look he had. “I’m too old for you, y/n…” He spoke with a quiet but firm tone. The two of you were currently alone in some room inside the DSO building. You thought this was the perfect time to let your feelings out.

He took a step towards you and stood in front of you, “You should focus on someone your age, sweetheart,” He mumbled as he brought his hand to your face and brushed some strands of hair behind your ear. He then ran his hand down your cheek with a gentle touch. You couldn’t help but lean into it. His thumb gently grazes against your bottom lip as he ran his fingers around your side of your face.

You were upset, you wanted him despite the age gap. “Please… I only want you,” you whispered and leaned into the palm of his hand.

Leon stared at you and then sighed as he brought his hand down your chin to lift it up more. He wanted to see those beautiful eyes of yours, even if they began to show how sad you were. “It’s wrong for me to have you,” he whispered gently as he examines your face.

You felt your eyes become full of emotion, “It’s not fair…” your voice came out strained and barely audible, it was a miracle Leon still understood you.

"I know." Leon sighed, unable to keep himself from looking you with a soft look. You were his soft spot after all, "Trust me; nothing would please me more than to be with you..."

“Then let me have this one chance…please?” You begged with pleading eyes. "I shouldn't," he breathed, eyes traveling down to your lips before returning to scan your face, "It wouldn't be right for me to take advantage of you..."

“I want you to take advantage of me, to use me… I just want to be yours,” you whispered as your eyes shifted down to his lips and then back to his eyes.

"You're sure about this?" His breathing quickened as his eyelids drew heavy, his gaze locked onto the soft curve of your lips. You nodded, “I wouldn’t be asking you if I wasn’t sure,” you whispered as your hand intertwined with his.

He squeezed your hand, and with a slight shrug of his shoulders, he leaned down until your faces were just mere inches apart.

He breathed slowly, eyes scanning your gaze, "Promise me one thing..."

You stared at his eyes and nodded, “yeah?”

"Promise me..." He breathed out slowly, allowing himself to lean in closer to you until his breathing was near whisper. "...That you will not regret this.”

“I won’t,” you whispered as you closed your eyes and felt Leon's lips finally make contact with yours, kissing for the very first time. It was a gentle, tender caress that made your cheeks flush with color, his broad hands gently resting on your hips while the tips of his fingers grazed the skin of your waist. You brought your hands to his broad shoulders and rested them there. You felt your knees grow weak from the gentleness of the kiss. His lips felt so soft against yours, he tasted the flavor of your chapstick and he couldn’t help but love it even more.

He sighed against your lips as the gentleness of the kiss began to build into something more passionate. His lips pressed against yours firmly, a hand cupping your chin to keep your face closer. His lips parted slowly, urging your lips to part as well. When you felt his lips part and his tongue press on your bottom lip, you gasped and he dived his tongue right into your mouth. His tongue finally danced against your tongue, inviting a response back from you. Your grip on his shoulders increased ever so slightly as you moaned in the kiss, sending the vibrations to his tongue as both your tongues danced passionately.

He moaned softly in response, his hands sliding around to your back once more holding you as close to him as he could. His tongue continued to swirl around your mouth, gently sucking at your bottom lip. His hold on you was strong and firm, a silent command to stay pressed against him. His hold on you only grew stronger as he kept you pressed up against his body. A hand ran through your hair, keeping your head held in place. His tongue and lips continued the dance of teasing and pleasing, your own lips responding in kind. The passion built within his embrace, his breath growing labored and his heart beating rapidly against his chest. It felt so surreal.

You moved your hands down to his chest and gently pulled back to catch your breath. You panted as you tried to breathe and remain focused. Your brain felt mushy from how good the kiss was. You finally got the chance to taste his lips.

His lips parted from yours, and he breathed out slowly, his breathing rapid and throat parched. His hand slid to your lower back as he kept you pressed close to him. He brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face, then gently tucked it back behind your ear. "Are you ok?" He whispered, voice still strained, but his body relaxing slightly.

You nodded and breathed out a small “yes,”

Leon let his grip on you loosen slightly, allowing a small distance to form between the two of you. He brushed the side of your face, and his hand moved to grasp yours.

"Good," He whispered slowly, his gaze falling to your lips, "So very good..." he sighed and let his hand slid back down your back before letting go, "Forgive me if I got a little carried away..." He took in a deep breath, his voice now returning to a normal tone, "I've wanted to do that for a very long time..."

You eyes nestled bulged out of their sockets after he said that, “You did?” You asked softly in disbelief.

He nodded slowly, his gaze flicking between yours, “Yes. Ever since the moment we first met, I was attracted to you, even though I knew it was wrong. I wanted you, wanted to hold you close, kiss you, and make you mine…” his eyes growing distant, "I've wanted you..." He took a deep breath, then gently caressed your chin with a hand, his lips gently grazing your forehead.

You closed your eyes and felt the softness of his lips plant a kiss on your forehead. A gesture so gentle and soft it could bring anyone to their knees.

He breathed out slowly, closing his eyes for a second before opening them to peek at you through his lids. He raised a brow and sighed, adjusting the hold on your chin to gently tip your head up.

"But as I said, I'm too old for you," he brushed his fingers across your jawline, "And I fear that our relationship would be met with judgment and ridicule..." he looked at you with saddened eyes. He wished he could kiss you anytime, to be with you in public and not have to worry about the judgment. In his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman to ever step foot on earth. It was sad, really. How much love he had for you but he hid it for your sake. He loves you so much he didn’t want you to get hurt.

You furrowed your brows together and looked at him with those sad eyes of yours. But his heart ached the most with the strain of your voice, “I don’t care what anyone says…”

"But you should," he replied softly, "You're still young... You should find someone closer to your age,” he caressed your cheek once again as he looked into your eyes "What about your family?" He sighed, "What if your parents disagree with us? They'd say that I'm taking advantage of you and manipulating you because you're young..."

“Leon, please, I’m an adult. I can make my own choices…” you whispered with a sad tone, “I don’t care if you’re 20 years older than me. I want you… dare I say I love you…”

Leon fell silent as your words sank into him. He froze in place, for a few moments, he was speechless, his facial expressions shifting through multiple emotions.

"Love me?" He whispered, leaning down towards you, "Y/n… you don’t love me. You love the idea of me you have in your head.” He whispered softly as he caressed your cheek once again. His voice so soft and tender and full of sadness.

Your throat was caught up into a knot. Did you screw things over already? Or were they already screwed up before this began?

You bit your bottom lip to contain the threatening tears that were about to spill. He saw this and gently brought his thumb over to the corner of your eyes and wiped them for you.

“I love you…” you nodded and felt your eyes get glossy, “I love you, Leon…” you whispered, “This feeling I have… it’s controlling me. I can’t breathe when I’m not with you. I need you…”

“Don’t cry, angel,” he whispered as he kissed your forehead again and gave you a sad smile. “How do you know this is not just infatuation?”

You stared into his blue eyes deeply, “Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone before..”

His eyes were locked onto yours, a million thoughts running through his head. As much as he wanted to be with you, this was never meant to happen. You’re way too young. You needed someone else, someone better than him. He sighed and looked out the window. What was once a sunny day became a rainy one. He looked back down at you.

"Go home, y/n…" he whispered.

He let go of your face and took a step back. You watched him go with sad eyes, you wanted to chase after him so badly but you felt frozen in place. It was bittersweet. You got the kiss you wanted but at the cost of him leaving you.

You sniffled and cried silently as you walked out of the building and to the bus stop. You put on your headphones and began to listen to some music while you watched the raindrops race down the window.

Leon watched you from the second floor window. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart. He knew you’d cry but he couldn’t let you get too attached to someone like him. He was broken, never meant to be fixed again. While you were everything. In another universe, maybe the two of you could’ve been together.

[unsolvedjarin]

COMPLICATED — prologue

pairing: (fernando alonso x driver!reader) (grid x platonic!reader) — mostly older!grid

summary: you and fernando were known to be the biggest rivals on and off track back in 2012. that rivalry even crossed the line to pure hatred many years ago. but how did that hatred turn you two into the loving iconic couple of f1 you are today?

note: i’ve been dying to write this for AGES. it’s the fic that’s the reason i made this blog. keep in mind however this is just the prologue, so i’m simply setting up the story for where i want it to go. after this mostly social media chapter it gets plot heavy. anyways i hope you enjoy this!!!

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liked by danielricciardo, lewishamilton, and 528,293 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, aussiegrit, jensonbutton, sebastianvettel, lewishamilton

yourusername beach day with my boys! had so much fun pretending to know what i’m doing while surfing (do NOT trust mark when he says he’ll teach you how to surf. he’s horrible.)

view comments

aussiegrit you falling off the board 272872 times was of your own accord, don’t blame the teacher!

jensonbutton mate you fell off your OWN board 272872 times, i think when it gets to that it’s the teacher’s fault

yourusername get his ass again for me jense

fernandoalo_oficial looking great amor! 🥰

yourusername thanks to my amazing photographer 🫶

jensonbutton what about the pictures i took?

yourusername they were definitely pictures!

fernandoalo_oficial posted a new story

—2012

This was not Fernando Alonso’s year. Losing the World Championship by 3 points was not good on his ego nor on his morale, yet here he was.

Everyone was celebrating Sebastian now for having won his 3rd World Championship– but Fernando was angry. Not at Sebastian, but at you. 

You who had gotten first place. 

You who was third in the Drivers Championship and had no chance to pass Fernando on the standings, yet still overtook him during the last two laps. You couldn’t even let him win.

“Good race Nando,” he heard a voice in front of him say. He paid no attention to it.

Getting no reply from him, you scoff and put down your water bottle. “I know you’re mad at me for getting first, but at least have some sportsmanship.”

That gets him to look up and take a proper look at you, post race sweat and your race suit dangling at your hips. He thinks you glow look terrible in this light. Because he was sat on some stairs, you were standing over him, hands on hips with a slightly smug look on your face. 

“Don’t be a sore loser. It’s unbecoming.”

“I could have won the championship. I was three points away— three, and you could not even let me have that?” He gestures wildly. “I know you dislike me, but stealing my championship is far and beyond, L/N.”

He stands up, purposely hitting your shoulder as he walks past you. 

Oh the bastard. He wanted to throw out accusations? Fine. 

“Oh don’t be such a hypocrite. I stole your championship? What good would that even do me? I’m third in the standings, there was no way I was going to catch up to you,” you retort. Fernando was still facing away from you, but frozen on the spot. You knew he was listening. “I went faster because my contract with Mercedes expires this year. I’m losing my fucking seat, I need to prove to other teams I’m worth it. It’s bad enough you’re constantly fucking badmouthing my character to the press, and now you question my integrity as a driver? Honestly, Alonso, grow the fuck up. Not everything is about you.”

A silence befalls the room. Fernando doesn’t speak or do anything, and the seconds waiting for a response feels like minutes. He’s facing you at this point, speechless in his Ferrari race suit that looks fucking great on him. Too bad he’s a shitty person.

You sigh, exhausted. “Nothing?” 

He shakes his head and looks down. Of course. He’s got nothing to say. Resigning, this time you’re the one to walk past him and towards the door behind him. He tries to look at everything else in the room that wasn’t you, the walls, the stairs, the tables, but that wasn’t enough to avoid your exasperated look that he could see through his peripheral vision.

He should’ve done something, anything. Stop you from walking away, tell you he’s sorry, just something. But he didn’t do anything. That was his first mistake.

One of many.

—PRESENT

MAHK WEBBAH

once again asking if we can change the group name

JENSE

it’s correct though? But while we’re on the topic of the groupchat can we change the photo

YOURNAME

no

its beautiful whats wrong with you

JENSE

okay then we’re not changing the group name

MAHK WEBBAH has left world champs + mark

YOURNAME

give him a few minutes he’s having a temper tantrum because skysports labelled his name as “Sebastian Vettel’s former teammate”

SEBBY

IJBOL

NANDO

??????

JENSE

??????????

YOURNAME

where the fuck did you learn that

AUTHORS NOTE: i know some of these are ooc but i had too much fun making the fake tweets 😵‍💫 this is quite a plot heavy fic from here on out, so put on your reading glasses!

[gdjyho]

candy. | JJK

but you still lick the wrapper…

pairing : jungkook x (f!) reader

sypnosis : it’s just wrong. that’s the older brother figure you never had. but is it worng if no one knows?

warnings : nipple sucking, spit play, pussy eating, fingering, cum play, crying during sex( dacryphilia is it?), they get caught, pet names, dom! jk and sub! reader.

sugar coated, lies unfolded

✧ ✧

‘fuck’ you think out loud, as his soft, wet tongue makes sloppy trails around your sensitive buds. you grip onto his hair, stomach muscles tensing with your leg resting on his shoulder. he put it up there so he could get a better angle. or so he says.

‘that’s it, spread a little wider for me’ jungkook drags out his dangerous words. his fingers fart right to the end of you, and they can’t go any further in. your eyes prick up at the sudden sharp sting of him grazing your walls.

he knew what he was doing to you. he always knows what he’s doing, especially when he followed you up to the bathroom to help you get that stain off the low cut top of your dress. he springs up from the table, so eager to help you. it’s almost as if he knew this was gonna happen.

you didn’t think anything of it when he came up because you grew up with him. being an only child, he was like a sibling to you. you had watched him grow and in turn he did too. you watched him turn into a man, grow taller and his voice drop. he watched you get curvy, your tits perk up through your shirts and your ass get rounder.

jungkook leaves your wet nipple and switched to your pulsing hole. without any warning, his tongue is making itself at home in your walls. your mouth falls to an ‘O’ shape as you fight to stay silent through this ecstasy. he withdraws from the warm and sweetness from on his tongue to draw up his saliva and spits it on your pussy.

he begins to rub. faster and faster bit by bit. the aching sensation forms on your folds as you feel your organs twist at the need to cum. the door is slightly cracked open as a cool breeze laps over your drying nipples. your buds stiffen up once again and you whimper softly at the erotic feeling.

jungkook’s sister stands in the doorway, who you didn’t notice until you turn your head. it already seems as if he noticed her, as he stares deep into her eyes, her lips subtly parted and chest rising and sinking. her eyes move to you and you simply justt bat your lashes, and she mirrors your movement, tongue skimming a layer of moisture over her dry lips.

after a few moments, she scurries off to her room. your pussy is emptied from fingers and replaced with his tongue once again. his tastebuds yearn for more as you feel them graze and rub against your insides. the small dots caress your flaps slowly and painfully.

‘ your pussy is so good, you taste so good’ jungkook’s lips turning into a small smile as he breaths out those words against you. all you do is mutter out in response and hum in agreement to his statement as your cheeks flush out. you move your hair from your face, a mixture of salty tears and sweat make a mess of your face.

your back arches even more over the cold bathroom tiles, your bare ass hitting the porcelain of the sink basin. you cum, gracefully into his mouth and he swallows you up. jungkook releases your leg from his shoulder, peeling it off him as the sweat had clung you together. you pull his face for a kiss, your legs straddling his hips as your hands lock behind his soft hair.

you’re both left heaving into the kiss staring at eachother as you share this intimate moment. you look down at his through your bottom lashes with are clumped with tear drops, admiring his soft face. you were turned into such a mess while he sat there no different.

- erm. I’ve been gone a while but yh i think I’m back now. 😌 school was getting to me but im back!!

✧ ✧

[immortalityforthegoddess]

Shingen Yamazaki x Child Reader!

Summeray: {Name} is the pearl of the Yamazaki clan, shingen's only daughter. {Name} is 7.

Soft shingen and shintaro

"{Name} get back here right now!" The child mother shouted but in vain as the little girl was already long gone.

Running threw the halls of the Yamazaki mansion was normal for {Name}, she didn't care to know, how to act like a proper lady, no she just wanted to have fun.

And so she countied to run round laughing and giggling to herself until she reached two big doors.

She doesn't remember ever seeing them? But than again, her mother or any one else for that matter never allowed her in this part of the mansion, maybe this is the reason why!

{Name} pushed open one of the doors and ran in as it shut behind her, the room was very dark and was only lit by a few candles.

It was bright enough that {Name} could see a large man sitting the middle of the room, staring at her.

{Name} thought it was rude of him to star, because her mommy always says it's very disrespectful, he is rude. "You know mister, it's very rude to star." {Name} stated as she walked over to the man and stood in front of him staring up at him.

"..its rude to barge into people's room's." Shingen stated to the child who just stared and giggle in response. "Your funny mister!". Shingen gave a hum in response.

"Hey mister, you remind me of my uncle shintaro, he also always looks depressed too!". Shingen stars down at the young girl careless speaking talking to him unaware of who he was.

"{Name}!, what do you think your doing in here?". Shintaro said walking into his brothers room, going to grab the child's arm, only for {Name} to yank away and climb on too shingen's lap.

"No! Am not leaving! I finally have a friend!". She shouted as, shintaro stared down with an unamused look on his face, "why isn't she being watched?"

Shingen said as gentle gesture to the young girl with his eyes, shintaro simple sighed and responded, "Her mother is busy flirting with every single man here, am always one to watch her."

Shintaro explained, at this point {Name} got up from shingen's lap and began walking around the room giggleing to herself.

"{Name}, the servents have made lunch, go on and eat." And just like that, the young girl was out of the room sprinting towards the smell even faster than she had entered the room.

"...she is growing greatly, she is even a brighter pearl than what everyone thought." Shintaro said walking out of his brothers room.

"She reminds me of you, shingen." Shintaro stated as he looked to his older brother, "I don't see it." Shingen simply replied, he was lying, shintaro knew he was lying.

Her eyes, her hair, her laugh and giggle, her free spirit and loving nature, all came from shingen, she is a copy and paste of him. He just didn't want to admit it.

"Kill her mother for her acts and find someone to take care of the child until she is of age." Shingen said, shintaro simply huming in response.

[shoujo-wizard]

Bewitched by Yuletide p.2 🫖

[Hallmark movie AU steddie A/B/O ft kitchen witch Steve & former rockstar Eddie, O!Steve/A!Eddie]

[some O!Steve pov & backstory as well as A!Robin backstory too]

🎸p.1

when Steve was 13 he went through his very first heat. when Steve was 13 his alpha father left him in the care of his grandpa for an entire summer that turned into an entire school year that turned into his father signing away his parental rights to Steve to his own parent in Steve's freshman year at Hawkins High.

the adults never told him, but Steve deduced it was because he'd begun coming into his Talent. in the days after his first heat, before his father had driven him to Hawkins Indiana he would be completing his chores faster than he'd begun them. he'd know exactly who was about to ring the doorbell without ever looking out the window. Steve remembered the disgust on his father's face when Steve had correctly guessed what Richard Harrington had enjoyed eating most growing up without the topic ever being brought up. so Steve ended up raised by his remaining grandparent.

his omega grandpa Peter Harrington explained to him what was happening. he'd entered his 13th year, and that meant he began to be capable of things others weren't. apparently his grandpa's family, the Frumps, were a proud line of kitchen witches. Steve had evidently inherited the Talent. so as he grew into his Talents, Peter taught him everything he knew. Steve learned recipes & spells at his grandpa's elbow in the beautiful house his alpha grandma, the late Amelia Harrington, had bought just for her mate.

Steve learned how to start the autumn with a perpetual stew that would seemingly have no end till spring using the talents his grandpa helped him develop. his simmer pots only grew more fragrant as years went by. in the spring & summers he learned how to use his Talents in a way tht helped the vegetable garden flourish, even though neither were a green witch. his grandpa had beamed with pride telling him tht he was an even more powerful kitchen witch than his great-grandma Eva. as he got older, he was given more responsibilities in the kitchen. the different holidays became times for his grandpa to test his Talent as he neared high school graduation.

then the summer after he graduated, as he prepared to attend classes at the Roane County Community College, his grandpa Peter had a heart attack in his sleep. as the executor of estate Steve was in charge of too much concerning the death. he buried his grandpa five days later, many people who'd known Peter Harrington came to help Steve celebrate a life well lived, many people brought him casseroles, many people gave their condolences, many people told Steve stories he'd never heard.

Richard Harrington never picked up the phone or answered the voicemail Steve left him. Richard Harrington never responded to the second voicemail Steve left him informing him that Peter Harrington had written him out of his will, that Steve was now the sole inheritor of the entire Harrington fortune his grandma had worked so hard to build, and his grandpa had worked so hard to preserve.

his grandpa Peter taught him many things as a witch. that his Talent was his to manifest, his to explore, his to expand. that his heart was bursting with love, and that wasn't a weakness. he taught him that life continues on, time does not stop, the seasons will always change, and that the dead will never forget the living.

at his grandpa's funeral Steve met someone who told him stories about his grandpa when he was a Home Economics teacher at Hawkins High. Wayne Munson was a gruff alpha who looked stoic, but his manner of speaking was gentle. Steve could see the genuine kindness Wayne radiated, and he was grateful when Wayne came by the house that was now Steve's with ingredients for a sweet corn and cucumber salad. Steve sipped cold water with crushed mint while Wayne cooked. Grandpa Peter's favorite vinyl was playing in the living room, Cass Elliot's 1973 album titled Mama's Big Ones.

time went on, seasons changed, Steve started a weekly tradition of having Wayne over for Sunday dinner. he started classes at the community college, got very invested in a history class about textiles, and in the community college's library he always sat silently at the same table as another student. she was a trans feminine alpha who'd chosen the name Robin, she had moved to Hawkins for community college after graduating from high school a year early. they ended up locked in the libraries gender-neutral bathroom when the door got stuck, it was during finals and the library was open two hours longer. as they waited for the night janitor they bonded about grandparents, about parents that weren't equipped to accept them in their entirety, and Robin even confessed she only found other alpha women attractive.

Afterward they became two halves of a whole. Robin joined Sunday dinners. She spent more time sleeping over at Steve's home than she did at the apartment above her grandparent's bookstore. Robin told him that her family had owned the only bookstore in Hawkins since 1810, making it the oldest bookstore in the state of Indiana. when Steve told her he's a kitchen witch she lit up with questions after a moment of disbelief. Robin eagerly joined him in all the pagan holiday traditions his grandpa had taught him. they agreed their mutual favorite was Yuletide with Samhain as a close second. then when they learned they shared a birthday June 13th became a joint birthday celebration from then on.

when Robin's grandma died in hospice their final year at community college, Steve was the person she leaned on. she moved in with him, unable to enter the apartment without being overcome with paralyzing grief but determined to keep the bookstore going. when her insensitive beta mother came to town for the funeral Steve stood by her, helped her keep her ground against her mother's attempts to take control of the business and building left to Robin in the will. Robin's alpha father ended up being the one to silence Beatrice Buckley nee Smith by laying it out that Robin had legally inherited the building including the store as well as the majority of the contents of the apartment, that Robin might be young, but she had a good head on her shoulders. that they had no right to demand anything of her after how they'd reacted to her transition. George Buckley didn't chase after his wife when she stormed out, he apologized to his daughter for the way he shut down when she came out to them, he watched as his wife drove off back to their hotel, and after asking to rebuild their relationship he confessed he was going to serve Beatrice divorce papers. Robin cried as she hugged her dad, sobbed harder when he told her how beautiful self-love looked on her.

Wayne came by after the funeral, joined the three of them for dinner. he and George shared stories from high school. Wayne told Robin stories about the many times her grandparents had taken one look at him, a kid with two working parents, a kid who'd been charged with caring for his rambunctious rebellious little brother, and they'd given him books for half the price they were worth.

George Buckley moved back to Hawkins following the divorce. back into the apartment he'd grown up in, he worked in the store as assistant manager, he joined their Sunday dinners, and he made efforts to implement the vision Robin had of the bookstore being a safe space.

then one day while Steve was perusing the shelves of the bookstore even though it was his day off from the store. he looked out the store windows at the sound of Wayne's truck pulling up to the bank across the street. when he saw Wayne fall he let out a yell, and while Robin called for an ambulance he was running across the main street to sit with Wayne till the ambulance arrived. at the hospital he listened carefully to everything the doctor said about caring for the concussion Wayne had ended up with. Robin helped him take Wayne home to his tree farm filled with fir trees, the majority being douglas fir.

the day after he'd been home for a full day Wayne called to let Steve know his nephew had come to stay with him. Steve laughed when Wayne relayed the message to make sure he made enough for four for dinner that night.

Steve drove Robin and him to Wayne's after they locked up the bookstore for the night. George had to give their inventory orders a final review so he'd declined to join them. they pulled up, and Steve noticed the shiny red car that was left running with the driver's door open. as he cradled the ancient dutch oven in his hands, Robin turned the car, and shut the door. before they went inside Steve made a come hither motion with his hand at the car thinking how nice it'd be for the nephew's many bags to b unloaded.

upon entering Steve spared not a single glance for the nephew standing to greet them, determined to begin cooking because they'd stayed later at the bookstore than usual. he pulled off his scarf and coat. then pulled the canvas bags of ingredients out of the dutch oven. he heard Robin starting a conversation with Wayne. Steve was unpacking the ingredients when suddenly the smell of cedar and tobacco filled his nose. he looked up from pulling out the bread he'd made to go with the pumpkin soup he had planned, and standing in the doorway was Wayne's nephew.

Steve knew, he knew as soon as his nose had registered cedar and tobacco. Grandpa Peter told him that all witches would have one great love in their lifetime. Steve always assumed his platonic love for Robin was his, but he knew then he'd been wrong.

because as soon as the nephew introduced himself as Eddie Munson, Steve knew that this alpha was the man who would either cherish his heart or break it.

---

@lexirosewrites this is part 2 that i've written special for slick sunday this month. it was a wonderful distraction from, well, Everything TM. I'm thinking i'll keep adding to this every month on slick sunday till i feel this little ficlet series has reached a satifying conclusion. i think i'll even open myself up to creating a tag list for this series, spaces will b limited as my adhd can only handle so many details at once.

@manda-panda-monium @awkwardgravity1

yall get to b the first two of this tag list. write in the replies if you'd like me to tag you when i post part 3 next month. i will let the tag list get to 20 accounts & no more

don't let despair rule your life, going forward we have a lot of work to do, and we need a means to recharge as we fight to maintain our freedoms. idk what the future of fic in this country will b if project 2025 gets to censor queer media by banning ao3, but if it comes to it we can do as the fans before us did: mailing lists, zines, and more now that we have the internet.

[ilylovelyz]

papa!ushijima who just very much falls in love with his daughter.

ushijima never really was much of a family man, his own parents being divorced and having no siblings growing up.

he didn't even really want kids, but you ended up pregnant anyways. it's not like he was against it, but it's also not like he also planned for it either.

so he was really just 50/50 in all honesty.

but you seemed to want a baby, so he went along with it for your sake. not like he would want to force you to go for an abortion either, he'd never force you to do such a thing.

he went along with the whole thing, not really wanting a specific gender, nor did he really care about the baby's name.

but for "your" sake, he would find himself ordering books and information about babies and childbirth, looking up baby names on his phone and asking for parental advice.

he felt a strange feeling inside of him when days passed and your baby bump grew.

it made him feel "fuzzy", that's the best and only way he could describe it.

it's love at first sight when she's born.

he doesn't know what took over him, but he just felt so.. at peace when he first held her. she was so small within his arms, so helpless and dependent on him.

the moment she revealed her dainty hazel eyes, similar to her father's, he just felt the air get sucked right out of him.

she was just so precious and warm, small and dainty.

the baby scared him at first, because he didn't know what to do with it.

it took awhile, but he eventually was learn the smallest of details about her, mindful even though she probably didn't even know about her own existence.

you slept soundly at night, every night, occasionally waking up when you felt you slept for too long, walking into the nursery only to find ushijima in the rocking chair asleep with the baby snuggled against his chest.

he would find his eyebrows furrowing when he realized a year had passed in a flash, much against his will.

suddenly, his babygirl is walking, and babbling little incoherent words along the lines of "papa!" or "mama!"

he followed her around like a worried dog watching their owner, following wherever her little curiosity led her.

he hated seeing her cry.

his chest would tighten up whenever she would reach for him with a runny nose, fat tears running down her soft cheeks because one of her favorite toys broke.

she's lucky her father is a top-star athlete who doesn't bat an eye when he's spending almost 500$ on toys.

he gets a little dumbfounded when she chooses a remote as one of her favorite toys though, over a 500$ toy.

but nevertheless, as she got older, her walk become a little more faster and had more distance away from him than he preferred.

he'd watch from a distance, the corner of his lips upturned into a soft smile at the way his daughter attempts her first spike.

so prideful that he's created something so amazing and special.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐄

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Regulus comforts you when you feel like you are a failure.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Reader having a meltdown, Overstressed reader

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Regulus Black x reader

The library of Hogwarts was silent, only the soft rustle of parchment and the occasional scratch of a quill breaking the stillness. The dim light from the lamps cast long shadows across the room, and the air was heavy with the scent of old books and ink. You sat at a large oak desk, books and notes scattered in front of you as your eyes strained to focus on yet another page of your Potions textbook.

For the past week, you had been living in a bubble of pressure—pressure you couldn’t seem to escape. OWLs were approaching faster than you had anticipated, and it seemed like every waking hour was spent revising. Your parents were nothing but loving and supportive, but their expectations felt like chains. They never said it explicitly, but you knew. Your older brother had never been the academic one, and all the hopes and dreams your parents had for him had quietly shifted onto you. You had to be perfect. You had to succeed where he hadn’t.

You ran a hand through your hair, your fingers shaking slightly as they brushed against your scalp. You couldn’t remember the last time you had eaten a proper meal, let alone slept through the night. Every minute felt like a countdown, every second wasted was a failure waiting to happen. The weight of it all sat heavily on your chest, suffocating you.

Across the library, Regulus Black stood in the doorway, his sharp grey eyes watching you with concern. He had been silently observing you for days, growing more and more worried as you buried yourself in your studies, neglecting your health in the process. Regulus was never one to express his emotions easily, but the sight of you like this—so fragile, so worn—was tearing at him.

He crossed the room quietly, his presence so familiar that you didn’t even glance up when he sat down beside you.

“Love,” he said softly, his voice gentle, yet firm. “You need to stop.”

You didn’t respond at first, your quill still scratching against the parchment as you scribbled down more notes. Your mind was racing, calculating how much time you had left, how much more you needed to memorize.

“Love,” Regulus said again, this time placing a hand on top of yours, stilling your movements. “Please.”

You paused, finally looking up at him. His eyes searched yours, and you could see the worry etched into his features.

“I’m fine,” you lied, your voice barely a whisper.

Regulus shook his head, his grip tightening slightly around your hand. “No, you’re not.”

You tried to pull your hand away, but he held firm. “Reg, I need to—”

“No,” he interrupted, his voice suddenly sharper. “You need to take care of yourself. You haven’t eaten, you haven’t slept. You’re killing yourself over this.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. The pressure you had been keeping at bay suddenly surged forward, crashing over you like a wave. Your eyes stung with unshed tears, and your throat tightened as you struggled to keep it all inside.

“I can’t,” you choked out, your voice trembling. “I can’t fail. I can’t disappoint them.”

Regulus’s expression softened, and he gently cupped your face with both hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re not going to fail, love. But you don’t have to carry this all by yourself.”

A sob bubbled up from your chest, and you shook your head, tears spilling over your cheeks. “They expect so much from me. They’ve always expected me to be the best because—because he never was. I’m the only one who can make them proud.”

Regulus pulled you into his arms without hesitation, holding you tightly as the dam inside you finally broke. You clung to him, your body shaking with the force of your sobs. All the pressure, all the fear, all the exhaustion poured out of you as Regulus held you close, his hand gently rubbing your back.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” he murmured into your hair. “You’re enough, just as you are. And your parents—they love you. They’ll be proud of you no matter what.”

You shook your head against his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt. “You don’t understand.”

“I do,” he whispered. “More than you know.”

For a long time, you stayed there, wrapped in his arms as you let yourself break. The weight on your chest eased just a little, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable, to let someone else carry some of the burden.

When your sobs finally subsided, you pulled back slightly, wiping at your tear-streaked face with trembling hands. Regulus looked at you with such tenderness that it made your heart ache.

“Promise me,” he said quietly, “that you’ll take care of yourself. OWLs aren’t worth destroying yourself over.”

You sniffled, nodding weakly. “I promise.”

He gave you a small, reassuring smile before standing up and offering you his hand. “Come on. Let’s get you something to eat from the elves. You’ll study better once you’ve rested.”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the pile of books on the desk. But then you looked at Regulus—at the warmth in his eyes, the quiet strength he offered—and you took his hand.

As he led you out of the library, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on your own. You had someone who would catch you when you fell, someone who would remind you that it was okay to be human.

And in that moment, it was enough.

this is a bit of a self-indulgent fic cause i NEEDED to write it for myself.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Heres an idea what if ford and his infant baby BOTH got sucked into the portal? How would ford cope with jumping across the multiverse while trying to raise his child?

I’m going to assume the reader is the baby, so this fic is obviously platonic from here on out.

The man gets grey stress hairs at like 23/25 (no clue how old he is when he got sucked into the portal but I’m going to assume for this)

Ford didn’t mind if it was just him that got pulled into the multiverse, he would’ve found a way to handle it but being in a multiverse full of potential dangers with you, his child? The man is doing everything he can to set you up to survive and one day escape the multiverse and go home, regardless if it’s with or without him.

Ford is putting you first and foremost as you were the future, his legacy and his protege.

It was a daunting task to not only try and survive the multiverse but also dedicate time to raising his own kid, it was taxing on both an emotional and physical level for Ford as he made sure you were kept warm and well fed as possible while leaning himself with little to nothing, but he didn’t mind because as long as you had everything you needed to grow and be strong, that’s all that matters to Ford.

You grew up traveling with bandits, learning to speak 13 languages, read ancient texts, become royalty when Ford was king of the finger dimension for a brief period of time, only for a seven fingered man to take the crown and becoming a wanted criminal in multiple dimensions before you were even twelve. Your childhood was far from a normal one as your memories of home were mainly from stories Ford told you about at night when you were both sat near the fire.

It saddened Ford to know that you viewed home a lot differently than you did the multiverse but he couldn’t blame you. You had near enough spent most of your developmental years running from dimension to dimension, aiding rebellions and surviving say to say that if you both were to ever get home, Ford knew you’d be out of your element as all you’ve ever known was the multiverse and him.

This thought occurred to Ford on many occasions that he blames himself for ever letting you get dragged into this mess because if you didn’t then maybe you could’ve grown up with Stanley and lived a perfectly normal life. You were robbed of a childhood you could look back on in fondness and Ford couldn’t help but believe himself to be the cause as he stays up to watch over you, seeing his child mentally grow up faster then you should be allowed for your age broke his aging heart.

Would you be ridiculed for being weird if you were to ever go home much like he was as a kid? If so then he’d much rather stay in the multiverse for your sake rather than his own.

You had been through a lot and seen more then a child your age should and while Ford will forever be proud of the person you had become. His only wish was that you got to at least experience a portion of your life back home before all this, just so that you didn’t look at everything so weirdly and so alien.

Ford knew that sometimes there will be moments where there’s a disconnect between you two, something he had to accept that as the truth instead of trying to logically fix it, and instead try to meet you halfway in a comforting manner when you start to think that you were too weird for home as you sat on the rooftop of the shack.

‘Won’t Mabel and dipper find me…odd?’ You asked.

‘No of course not sweetheart, they love you and see you as their cool older relative they can trust to keep them safe and happy and seen.’ Ford reassured you with a pat on the shoulder before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. ‘You’ll be loved, so loved my little sharpshooter. I promise.’ He adds as he sees you yawn and instinctively brought you into his side, once again watching over you as you slept peacefully for the first time in a long while.

While Ford hated that you had practically been raised in the multiverse but he couldn’t help but be proud of who you’ve become when you pointed out a flaw in his plans for the quantum destabiliser weapon that he had overlooked. You were going to be okay, Ford knew it.

[mxstly-melancholy]

can i request a william afton x reader where they watch a porno together, and then like try to re-create it??? (if that makes any sense)

Idk why that popped into my head lol i just thought it would happen on a night in with afton :)

-🌌

I changed this up a little bit 🌌 anon! I hope you don’t mind <3

William Afton X Afab Reader

Warnings: Porn, Thigh riding, breeding, lots of pet names, sub/dom undertones if you look hard enough.

(this is horrendous I’m sorry I wrote it at 6 am with no sleep)

You laid in bed bored out of your mind. William wasn’t going to be home anytime soon, you thought, so you decided to pull up some porn videos on your phone. You couldn’t help but do that every time you were home alone and bored. It was a good way to get your mind off the burdens of life.

You click on a video, it shows an older guy wearing a suit (how ironic) and a younger woman. He guides her to straddle his thigh, letting her ride it. He comments about how naughty and what a whore she is.

You felt tingles through your body, wishing so badly William would let you do this. The video kept playing and your panties got wetter and wetter as the time passed. This man has made her cum all over his thigh multiple times before pounding her, such a lucky woman.

Your thighs were pressed together as you sat in bed, you felt pretty dumb making yourself all hot and bothered because William shouldn’t be home for another hour.

That is what you thought, because as the girl in the video was cumming loudly, the bedroom door opened. You practically throw your phone across the bed, trying desperately to mute it.

“I’m home early, dear… I see you’ve kept yourself occupied.” William laughed at your embarrassed face, putting his tie down on the dresser.

After you successfully locked your phone you hid your face in your hands.

“Welcome home..” you mumble into your hands.

William giggles at you and sits down next to you on the bed, loosening his belt.

“What was it that had you so entranced that you didn’t hear me come home?” He asked.

You sigh, “I don’t think you’d find it that interesting. It’s just boring… vanilla.. stuff.” You kind of lie.

William turns to you, “Well, show me.” He holds his hand out waiting for you to hand your phone over.

You shook with nervousness, but complied.

William unlocked your phone and put the video on, skipping through parts here and there. You could see his erection grow in his pants by the minute.

After a few minutes that seemed to last forever, he hands your phone back and looks at you with a mischievous smile.

You put your phone on the nightstand and as you turned around he was in your face, kissing you passionately. Shocked, but not complaining, you lean into him.

“Well, come on then.” He pats his thigh.

Your eyes widen with excitement, and quickly jump onto him. His hands came to your hips and started moving you immediately. You felt bad neglecting his obvious twitching cock in his pants, but before you could make out a word, your mouth fell open with a soft moan.

“That’s perfect… This is what I love to come home to. My perfect little slut just waiting to be used and ruined.” He whispers out. His words make your hips twitch and your pussy throb. Your panties were completely soaked and all you wanted to do was rip off your pajama shorts.

“So good for me.. my perfect girl.” He moves your hips faster against him, loud moans escaping your lips.

“Will..” you breathe out, holding onto his shirt collar tightly.

“Yes, darling?”

“Please… I’m… so close.”

And just like that, you were shoved off for a quick moment while he unzipped his pants, looking at the obvious wet stain you had left on his thigh. Before you could even protest against being removed from his thigh you were dragged onto him and he forced your shorts and panties to the side, sliding into you quickly. You yelp, and claw at him. “F-fuck!”

His feet were grounded into the bed and his knees bent, he began to ruthlessly pound into your dripping pussy.

The moans that escaped you both were loud, long and echoed throughout the bedroom.

“W-William! Oh fuck-“

“So fuckin’ pretty for me doll- Mhhf!”

You couldn’t help it, your orgasm took over you like fire spreading, you shook and cried on him as he continued to use your hole.

“Already? Come on baby keep up!” William teases you, watching your twisted expressions as you become overstimulated. One of his hands comes up and grabs your neck gently, making you look at him.

“Is this what you wanted, hm?” He asks.

You could barely get yourself to make out words, you nod and tears fall.

“My beautiful girl… I’m gonna cum so deep in you, you want that hm?” He rambles on as his thrusts get sloppy, his orgasm nearing.

You basically go limp on him, just holding yourself up enoguh so he could continue to fuck you.

“G-god- damn-“ he grunts out as he pushes as deep as he can, cumming deep inside of you. You can feel his hot cum pouring inside of you and it causes you to shiver and moan with him.

You both fall breathlessly, holding onto each other. William giggles, “God, I needed that.”