#i want it to be a movie and tv show SO BADLY
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semisolidmind · 1 year ago
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these two have been living in my head rent free all damn week
(@kaijufluffs and @celestialkiri , your babes are adorable and i adore their dynamic so so much. king just seems like the kinda guy to always wanna show off how beautiful and wonderful his wife is (and be a lil smug about it), hence the pose)
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icewindandboringhorror · 11 days ago
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It's always interesting to hear about people's weird/unexpected "alternate life paths". Like, something that you could have done with your life, a job you almost took, a school you almost went to, etc - that was still actually realistic enough that it could have happened, but NOW it seems to not suit your current personality.
Like for example, I currently hate advertising (how manipulative it is, brands trying to be 'relatable', social media amplifying it to an obnoxious extreme, etc.) so much that even seeing a little ad before a youtube video is grating to even witness, but there was a point in time where I was genuinely seriously considering going into marketing/making commercials as a career lol. Or like, I have a relative who was very inclined to be a pastor when they were younger, even though today they're a super strong atheist, etc. etc.
#BECAUSE I knew I really liked filming and editing things and doing set design and costume design (from having done little bits of that#here and there in media classes and my own stuff - i used to be a lot more into making videos than I am now). BUT I was always thinking#that a movie is WAAY to big and long. even a short film. So I was trying to think of ways I could still like#have the fun of scouting locations to film and dressing up actors and etc. etc. without it having to be a Huge Million Dollar Production#on tv show or movie level. SO then I was thinking about like... just doing commercials. Or music videos. Like shorter things where I still#get the fun of the filming and everything but it's less of an intensive long term project.#So there is an alternate version of me (I suppose if i somehow did not end up having physical and mental health issues#as badly somehow.. or like.. randomly came into wealth and was able to pay my way through a nice college despite missing#days constantly being out because I'm sick or something lol) that works in some corporate advertising office coming up with commercials#and directing or filming them or doing the sets for them or something in that general vicinity.#I also was considering being a corporate psychologist. or whatever its called.. oh from google:#''Industrial and organizational (I/O) psychologists study and assess individual group and organization dynamics in the workplace''#I don't think I even knew what the job entailed. I was at the time just thinking like.. the type of person that comes into a business offic#and gives everyone personality assessments or does MBTI or big-5 testing crap for whatever reason that some businesses get that#done for people. Really i just wanted to be in a Corporate Big Office setting yet still do psychology. Because I used to be really fixated#on living in a big city. Like the ideas of everything being walkable. picking up a coffee in the morning. walking to my job in a Big#Skyscraper Building. people watching in a huge hotel lobby for lunch. flying frequently (I love airplanes and airports aesthetically).#living in an apartment with a giant window overlooking the city. etc. etc. BUT that was before i had really BEEN to a city. Then I actually#hung around a city a few times and went places and I was like... AUGh... The Sensory Overwhelm.. cars people lights loudness noise scary#everything happening all at once. etc. etc. (though even when I wanted to live in a city i NEVER strove for the Night Life. when i say I#enjoy city imagery I mean like... in the day time. Many people who like cities talk about The Night Life and post pictures of cities all#lit up at night and clubs and dancing and restaurants. none of that EVER appealed to me. perhaps a sign I am not a real city person. Like#I am NOT standing in a crowded bar full of loud people in the middle of the night lol.. get AWAY from me!!) but I do adore the#architecture of like bright white clean sterile modern spaces like huge airport lobbies or malls or etc. I think thats what reminded me of#city and what I liked about the idea of that life. Like I always LOVED the layout of schools and hospitals and trainstations and public#transport in general. Though even then I knew enough that I would not be a good architect/city planner. so I guess my adoration for those#spaces was merely to be channeled into LIVING there. but then I realized I didn't even really want to do that that much. I mean I still#definitely aim to live NEAR a city. like the little areas outside of it. I would never live in a rural place 4 hours from anything. I liter#ally just COULDNT since I need close access to hospitals sometimes lol. But I used to want to live in the CENTER of citites like high rise#condo. and now I'm like.... eh....... perhaps a smaller quieter walkable space nearby lol.. ANYWAY.. alternate me in my Business Suit eheh
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italksstuff · 4 months ago
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Im attempting to watch daredevil for the third time now. idk why but i just can’t get into it. I blame it on arrow. I think I would like it more if I felt like it’s not just another version of Arrow.
Anyways I’m running out of shows to watch and I’m not really interested in a lot of things that have been recommended to me, so if anyone has recs i might try them out please?
Specifically I kinda like Action comedy with a touch of romance, nothing too terribly heavy on the heart, and PLEASE NO SEX JDJEJD
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angelmotifs · 10 months ago
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yall are going to make fun of me for taking the "i am just GAGGING for you faggot" show this seriously but the other two is so horrifying and depressing to me in the way it portrays cary and brooke's descent into just being evil people as so seamless... actually the best show of all time
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chelseeebe · 3 months ago
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18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.
a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)
✧・゚: ✧・゚:
eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here. 
“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?” 
“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking. 
“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.” 
“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.
“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.
this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.
“now?” 
she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.” 
eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.” 
“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched. 
she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room. 
he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it. 
-
eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message. 
“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something. 
he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much. 
you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave. 
two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now. 
not if you were sleeping in his bed. 
it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it. 
“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done. 
who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly. 
“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process. 
“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips. 
“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.” 
his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze. 
'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation. 
-
when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie. 
eddie usually hated movie nights in the house. 
jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre. 
leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered. 
tonight it’s different, you get to pick. 
and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it. 
you land on edward scissorhands. 
not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble. 
in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.
at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath. 
he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.
robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way. 
“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary. 
you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on. 
he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you. 
unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone. 
-
living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive. 
it’s torturous. 
testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding. 
so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.
of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night. 
his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know. 
though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land. 
now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act. 
eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core. 
good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour. 
tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case. 
gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him. 
reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief. 
oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.
“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips. 
eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red. 
“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears. 
your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt. 
you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand. 
“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?” 
eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was. 
“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up. 
“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?” 
there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off. 
“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away. 
you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek. 
eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window. 
“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?” 
he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started. 
“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out. 
you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please. 
-
at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him. 
you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article. 
“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,” 
he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making. 
“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did. 
“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across. 
if only she knew. 
eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.  
he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria. 
cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now. 
everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties. 
-
eddie can’t take it anymore. 
he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer. 
but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure. 
the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport. 
he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women. 
your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand. 
“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down. 
robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful. 
thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose 
he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones. 
how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?
“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much. 
“you want some help with that?” 
eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion. 
it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs. 
“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager. 
he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame. 
your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?
this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric. 
eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.
the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house. 
the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin. 
when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking. 
your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears. 
no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was. 
“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch. 
his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere. 
you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house. 
eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute. 
it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life. 
“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.
you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable
“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.
"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.
“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.
“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.
“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.  
“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.
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prael · 5 months ago
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Newjeans Hanni smut (M reader) - the title is a hint to the TW.
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It didn't happen through a cliché.
Well, maybe it did, but not one of those where she's stuck head-first into some kitchen appliance or something of that ilk, though you would say this really did happen by accident.
What? She tripped, fell, landed on your dick?
Not quite like that, but the point still stands. You didn't begin that day, or even that evening, intending to fuck your step-sister, but, well…
"My apartment. My TV. My choice," you told her, as you have so many times before.
"But this film is supposed to be the best. It's got great reviews. Dani loved it..." Hanni was talking far too fast to even really pay attention. She soon started reeling off a cast list and everyone involved, and how this review called it a revelation to the genre, but you had long since started ignoring her. You know how she gets. Excitable beyond the point that someone normally would be. It's an endearing trait, if not also annoying. The rundown of her reasons was cut short as she threw her body at you in attack.
"Hanni! What are you—"
"Just gimme the controller already!" She shouted right into your ear as she threw her arms over your shoulders. You held it out in front of you, keeping her behind your back so her arms couldn't reach; not that it stopped her from trying. "Just one time. Please? Pretty pretty please?"
You climbed up from the sofa. Hanni clung to your back like a young panda, with her legs locked tight around your waist and her arms still fumbling around. You grabbed her by the ankle, trying to pry it away so you could drop her, or something, anything other than letting her continue. "Alright fine. Just let go, you idiot. You’re going to tear my arm off."
She loosened her hold, just enough for you to swing her around; one arm and leg slipping free so you could throw her onto the couch. In your flailing she managed to take the TV remote with her, but the moment of peace, of silence, of satisfaction in hearing your idiot sister bounce against the cushions before breaking into a laugh and asking, "what the hell was that for?"
"What did I ever do to deserve the step-sister from hell?" You said as you flopped down at the opposite end of the couch.
"Have a mother hot enough that my dad wanted to fu—"
"You're sick." You cut her off before she finished. She smirked, lifting her sock-clad feet onto the sofa and settling in for movie night. She brought her knees up below her chin and started flicking through the options on the screen to find the one she wanted. Her eyes were wide in her stare, her lower lip bitten. It was pretty much the last time you ever looked at her in this innocent way again.
It was another one of those shitty horror flicks. The kind that didn't even slightly live up to the billing she gave it before. This, however, was Hanni's thing—whenever she convinced you, or otherwise, to finally give up control of your TV, she would put on one of these cheap horror movies and spend the whole night tucked behind a cushion.
As much as you tried for it not to be, it's become something of a ritual, pretty much any night that she was at home, and not unbelievably tired from being overworked and didn't have to be up at the break of dawn.
It's your acceptance of things like that which really showed how much the two of you had grown. You remember fighting for your life against your mother and stepfather to not have to take her in. Convinced that if she wanted to move into the city so badly, she could get her own place, or go to one of those company dorms. Ultimately, you were made to see reason. Your apartment is close to her company, and you had a spare room, after all.
Not that she ever stopped annoying you beyond belief.
The movie, if you could call it that, had you fall into a slumber, and when you woke up Hanni had crawled across the length of the couch and was laid against you, her arms wrapping one of your own. She didn't even realise you had woken up, staring as the credits rolled with a slight, peaceful smile on her face.
She had tied her hair up by now into a ponytail, pulling the hair away from her mostly bare shoulder, where the thin strap of her cropped pyjama top rested. As you peeked down at her, your eyes accidentally fell on the space down her top. It wasn't your fault; they were just right there.
"Shit..." you muttered, catching Hanni's attention.
"Still alive there?" She chuckled a little as she gently patted her palm against your cheek. You feigned a yawn and shut your eyes, settling your head against the pillow once more.
"Hanni, put something else on. This movie is dumb."
"You fell asleep after like ten minutes."
"Yeah, and it seems it didn't take long for you to use me as a body pillow."
Hanni pursed her lips. A red flush ran through her cheeks, and then she quickly sat up. You were watching her the whole time through half-open eyes, chuckling under your breath at her reaction.
"You're an idiot," she says. "Always have been."
You shrugged in reply, "And you're easy to tease, always will be."
"Asshole." She kicked at you.
She tried to kick again, and you caught her foot. You held her bare leg in the air and then lightly kicked her back, hitting her thigh.
"Let go! I'll kick you again. Asshole!" She shouted at you, again and again, struggling to break her foot free from your hand. When you finally let her go, all her struggles made her stumble off the couch. As she went, you kicked out again, this time catching her right on the ass. "Ah! Fuck be careful you hit my plu—" She brought her hands right to her mouth when she realised what she was saying.
"Your what?" You asked.
Hanni cleared her throat, blushing to the point of matching the colour of her red short shorts. "Nothing."
She turned away from you. Just standing there. There's a part of you that wishes that you could go back to this moment. You would have left it there and gone to bed—never kicking her a third time.
But you did it.
Your foot flicked gently against her ass a final time and you felt it. Something hard tucked between the softness of her cheeks. She yelped again. You pinpoint this moment as the catalyst for everything that followed. It’s the part where her innocent image crumbled before your eyes and that’s what allowed you to do what you did. Though really, can you ever be sure that if it didn’t happen now, it wouldn’t have just happened the next day, or next week, or a few months down the line? You tell yourself it was inevitable.
"Is that what I think it is?"
She spun around, facing you once more, trying to muster something. She stumbled over and stuttered her words. "No! I... it's not mine. Minji loaned me one for... just to try... it's not." She held the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. "This is... oh, god. This is so embarrassing."
Hanni slumped back onto the sofa and pressed a cushion tight against her face. "Why'd you loan it?" You ask her, only to see her tighten her grip.
"Because."
"Because what?" You sat up by her side and said something that at the time you thought would make it better, but looking back, probably came off rather creepy. "I clean your room, Hanni. I have seen worse things."
Hanni slowly dropped the cushion into her lap and looked at you with a glare. "The fuck?"
"And if you're going to use my laptop, try deleting the history." At this point, you were just piling on the embarrassment.
"Fuck! Oh my God, what did you see?" She threw the cushion into your face.
You picked it out of the air. "Nothing." You lied.
"Bullshit!" Hanni swore. "Did you see everything?"
"Nothing at all..." you said sarcastically while standing up. "I definitely didn't see all the step-brother porn you were binging last week."
She screamed and jumped up. You threw the pillow to stop her and stepped out of reach. "I hate you! You freak!" she shouted, cheeks burning red as the fury rose within her.
"Says the chick wearing a buttplug." You taunted her again as you darted across the room away from her.
"What happened to boundaries!?" She lunged at you again, and you quickly sidestepped her. 
She tried jumping at you once more and missed, only to strike her knee against the corner of the coffee table. She hopped back on one leg with the pain.
"You're an asshole, you know that!?" she shouted, holding onto her knee. You stepped closer, thinking she was really hurt. Until she used the chance to lunge at you and grab you. "What's wrong with a girl enjoying some fantasy? Not like I want to actually fuck you."
You realise now that the proper thing to do would have been to match her disgust. Tell her something along the lines of how the thought repulses you. Continued to tease her about how fucked it is that she would even look at that sort of stuff. The whole thing could have dissolved, but it's when she had hold of you, hammering her fist into your arm, that you said, "don't you?"
Then the long silence ensued. The one that said a hundred unspoken words. As her punches turned into light taps and then to her just holding onto your upper arm. She looked up at you with her pretty eyes open wide. Her lips parted slightly and the tip of her tongue rested on the bottom one as if she had something to say, but the words wouldn't come.
That's the first time you kissed her. Your own step-sister, a girl who should be off-limits in every conceivable way. Yet she opened her mouth and accepted you in that moment. The taste was so sickly sweet.
It was brief, but it told you everything you needed to know, and everything seemed to spiral from there.
First, there was the confusion. The immediate aftermath where you both let go of each other to turn away. Your backs turned on one another as the awkwardness reached its peak. Neither of you was willing to confess the enjoyment of that little exchange.
Then came the passing of the blame. First, it was Hanni who turned to you with a "What the fuck are you doing?"
And you replied with "Me!? You're the one who kissed me!"
She scoffed and shouted a response, "That was all you! Stop being such a perv, freak!" Hanni stomped past you towards her room, face half-full of anger and topped off with shame.
"I'm the perv? You're the one who I hear moan through the walls while, apparently, watching step-brother porn! I think that makes you the messed up one!” you called after her.
A pause. The hesitation. The possibility of confession. She reached her door, and it flew open. In she walked before slamming it closed with a, "you're sick!"
You stared at the door and vainly said under your breath, "you're the sick one." In your head you had realised the real truth to that; how maybe you're both sick because, as the dust settled, you can only think about a handful of things.
The kiss. Her ass. Her cute little tits.
You didn't see her again for the rest of the evening. She reserved herself to her room, while you resigned to the couch with nothing but the television keeping you company.
It had been a long time since you had a shouting match like that with Hanni. See, it used to happen all the time when she first moved in. The problem with a girl like her whose whole world revolves around singing, dancing, media training and beauty is that she lacks any sense of what it's like to be an independent adult. It seemed like the fights would never end, on account of her being seemingly incapable of washing a dish, her clothes or even cooking the most simple of things without burning it or setting something on fire.
But this? This is uncharted territory.
The night wound down, and you were headed to bed, but you found yourself outside her door. Your hand raised, ready to knock. Your breath held. Right when you finally built enough courage is when you heard it. Heard her. Moans muffled through the wood of her door. Your stomach knotted. Your groin twitches.
You lingered, unable to tear yourself away. Even as your logical side began arguing with you that you were in the wrong. That you're probably the worst sort of pervert imaginable and you should feel nothing but guilt.
The other voice, the more confident one; the devil on your shoulder told you that it's Hanni's fault. You had just warned her, and this is what she did in response, like it’s all some sort of game. You refused to admit to yourself that hearing her groaning, whimpering, and moaning through the wall influenced you—tempted you.
Louder and louder. Her voice raised higher, getting to the point where you knew she was practically screaming in the throes of pleasure. Harder and harder you grew. The rational side of you was saying that you should ignore it. Just go to sleep. Forget about it.
"Fuck!" she moaned, and you remained, listening through the door—lost in imagination.
Then you heard footsteps. Bare feet patting on wooden flooring coming closer and closer towards the door. A rush to retreat and you slipped toward your bedroom door. You barely reach the handle before the door across the hall opens.
There was a moment. The two of you locked eyes. Every fibre in your being fought against looking down.
"What?" she asked with a stone-cold expression.
"Nothing." You said, and your willpower broke. You glanced down. Completely naked, she stands at the door, her nipples peaked to fine little tips. And your gaze drifted down her soft curves and slender figure, her wide hips and full thighs.
"Nothing," she mocks.
Her eyes glanced down for a second, then back to your face, and her gaze narrowed. You panicked, dipped into your room and slammed the door just like she did earlier. You press your back to it, the cool wood against your burning body. Your mind raced.
Her feet slapped again against the wooden floor and headed toward the bathroom. That should have been that. You slipped into your bed, frustrated and confused. The sound of the shower running quickly drifted through the walls, but her cries from earlier replayed in your mind until you fell asleep.
That should have been that.
You woke to the darkness of the room—not the morning sunshine—sometime later. Half in a haze, not quite conscious yet, but something had roused you from your slumber: a movement under the sheets and a strange sensation. Warm and damp. Your eyes flicked open, adjusting to the darkness. Your hands jerked reflexively toward your groin and then your senses sharpened.
Someone between your legs. A warm and wet something sliding up and down the shaft of your hardness. Tongue? Yeah, a tongue. Your fingers reached and buried themself into hair. Stomach muscles spasmed as your hips thrust up on their own. Your lips parted as you moaned, "Fuck."
You glanced down.
Hanni.
Naked.
The tip of your cock at her mouth, lips pursed around it. Her smiling eyes sparkled and her skin glimmered, bathed in moonlight coming through the open curtains. Hanni giggled when your eyes met. Your hand dropped to her shoulder.
"Hanni..." Your throat choked dry, and you pushed at her shoulder.
"Shhh." The word whispered against your sensitive tip.
"What the hell are you..." You tried to ask, but Hanni shook her head before sucking in a breath. Then she drew the length of your cock into her warm, wet mouth and the question escaped you. "Holy shit," you gasped.
"This can be our dirty little secret," she said when she lifted her head, fingers stroking you. "We can pretend it didn’t happen in the morning, but for the rest of the night," her finger tickled down the underside of your cock as she spoke, "it can be as real as you want it to be."
You remember being convinced that it was a dream. Maybe one that you would wake up from with a mess in your shorts and, honestly, that probably would have been bad enough—having a wet dream about your step-sister. Reality intruded and threatened to drag you back from your delusion. Hanni took you into her mouth again and it was so very real.
There was no doubting the pleasure, and it was too good to make her stop. You took your hand away from her shoulder, allowing her to do as she pleased. Maybe if it was just a dream, you could allow yourself to indulge in the madness just one time…
"Fucking hell, Hanni." The words slipped from you, and with it, her warm mouth left your throbbing cock.
You peered down at her. She wiped the drool from the sides of her lips and smiled at you. Her eyes were wide as she lowered her head and slipped your dick into her warm mouth once more. Your body jolted as she put her tongue to work. She swirled the tip along the contours and ridges, then licked down the underside of the shaft and then right back up the top, leaving a thin film of saliva on your hardness.
She clasped her hand around you and it all felt far too real. Mixed emotions. There was a cold sense of terror in your heart, even with the heat of arousal radiating all over. The things she did with her lips and her tongue made you doubt your sanity.
"Does that feel good?" She said as she took a quick pause, stroking her hand along the full length. She had just caught her breath in the one moment where she stopped sucking, the first chance where her mouth wasn't busy trying to draw the soul out of you through the tip of your cock.
"You were right." She spoke almost as quickly as your mind spun. "About... the step-brother thing. It feels sick, and gross, and... wrong. It makes me feel dirty." Hanni pauses for a second, seemingly running her eyes over your body and then asks, "how depraved does it make me that it gets me really, really horny?"
Hanni had no clue that the same thoughts filled the back of your mind. Only that you weren't able to string it into words like she did. She was right. It felt really wrong, and yet there was a rush to do something that should never be done. This was where the next step began. The breaking of the boundaries. The perverse excitement in the face of the taboo.
Her hand reached out behind her and pulled back the sheets that covered her body. She was crouched between your spread legs, head still by your cock, her soft ass in the air. The cool light from the moon kissed her skin as she slowly slipped her fingers between her plump cheeks. "And this only made it worse. I've been so horny ever since I started wearing it."
Her hand moved slightly, just out of view behind her, and she let out a breathy moan.
"Hanni. What're you—
You're interrupted. "It hurt a little at first. Just a bit but you get used to it, and if it's in a good spot, if you hit it right..." She kept touching herself in front of you, and another breathy gasp escaped her lips and then she looked up at you still lying there. "What are you waiting for? Isn't this what you want?"
That's when you stirred. Reciprocated. You sat up and she rose to meet you. In seconds, you were embracing. Frenzied. Wild. All teeth and tongues and roaming hands. Shorter than you. So much smaller. She let out a yelp when you grabbed her, though she instantly silenced it by shoving her tongue back in your mouth and kissing you deeply.
Pressed against your bare chest, her breasts felt small but supple, perfect little handfuls. Her waist is slender beneath your grasp. The thick flesh of her thighs was so full and shapely. When she opened her eyes, they had such want. Lust—pure and undeniable.
So close, and the faint whimpers at her throat are a seduction. You felt it was an invitation, and your lips kissed her chin, trailing kisses down her neck. "Yes. Yes. Yes..." she encouraged you lower. Your tongue tasted the saltiness of her skin, teeth grazing and then pinching softly. Her arms were tight around your head, nails biting into the base of your neck.
She trembled at your every caress, shook each time you teased a pert nipple. Gasped louder each time you nibbled her collarbone. You turned, lifting her, and then she fell back and presented herself to you. Her legs splayed open and her bare, wet cunt dripping, begging you to take it, but...
"No," you told yourself, "it's too fast," and you began a line of kisses down her stomach, beginning at her cleavage and trailing straight down her stomach. The muscles beneath her pale skin twitched and clenched in response and her breath had gone erratic. You reached her belly button and she hooked her legs over your shoulder, and when you dipped further she clenched her thighs and squeezed as you toyed with her.
You remember savouring the moment. Savouring the pleasure, savouring the veniality.
"Lower, please," she begged in the most needy voice. "Please, I... fuck, oh, fuck please..."
It's hard to describe it all.
Somehow, in the night, you both reached a state of understanding. A state of consensual debauchery that came with a sense of agreement; a pact signed with tongue on skin in this moment of depravity.
You kissed her, playfully moving between her legs. Thigh to thigh, to dangerously close to her wet core, and there you lingered. The air grew humid. Hanni's sweet scent filled your nose. You ran your hands up her legs and felt the warmth in your palms. She gripped onto the hair at the top of your head; her fists tightened.
"Why're you teasing me, asshole?"
Hanni's moans grew louder and more needy when you used your tongue against her. Her legs wrapped tight, hooking behind your back. There was something satisfying about her reactions to your actions, something exciting about seeing her squirm.
The tip of your tongue ran up the lips of her cunt, dipping between the fleshy folds and coming to suck upon her swollen clit. Her eyes widened at the touch, and her jaw slacked to the point her words went incoherent. Her whole body spasmed as she arched and moaned out something filthy.
One moment you had hold of her thigh, feeling her clench up and quiver, the next you found that your fingers had moved downward and pressed against her slick opening. At the slight touch of your fingertips to the tenderness there, a short cry slipped out of her again. She tightened and clenched around them as you pushed in deeper.
"Who's teasing?" you asked before you buried yourself to the knuckles in her.
A smirk formed, and Hanni was about to speak, but no words came. You pumped her at a steady pace, curling your digits within her while lapping at her clit. The taste of sin never tasted so sweet. 
The combination drove her insane, and it didn’t take long until you were on the verge of making your step-sister cum.
You wrapped your lips around that swollen nub of hers and flicked it with the tip of your tongue, faster and harder, until her many moans became one, long, drawn-out and passionate, as a climax rocked through her.
Her ass lifted off the bed and her legs quivered, shaking uncontrollably while her fingers tugged painfully at the hairs on the back of your head. She jerked and gasped with a look of ecstasy on her face as she moaned your name over and over, almost reaching a scream. Your name on her lips again, and again, and you were drunk on this euphoria.
She released your head, and you postured over her, still slipping a pair of fingers into her, but slower. She drew a deep, trembling sigh and forced a smile, watching you. "I hate you," she managed.
"Do you?" you asked as you drew your cum-soaked fingers out of her. Her legs rested on your hips and the underside of your stiff cock was against her pussy. You reached around her hip, to her ass, to the plug still sat between her cheeks. Hanni hissed at your touch, biting her lip at the sensation.
"Yes. I hate you," Hanni whimpered, giving the softest moans as you tugged on the metal. Her eyelids fluttered.
"Why?" you asked.
"I just do," Hanni weakly gasped, struggling to stay strong in the moment. "You make me feel things. Things I shouldn't feel. It shouldn't be this easy."
"In that case. I hate you too, sis'."
There was this moment after you said that, where you shared a stare. Maybe the most confusing stare of your life. Calling her sis', in this position, should have been horrifying. And it was, but only at a peripheral level. Otherwise, it felt surprisingly... hot.
You dipped into her for another kiss, and this one seemed ever more ravenous than the last. You kissed with hunger and her hand ran around the back of your head. Kissed as lovers would. She was just as aroused as you and eager for more.
Slow and soft, you rocked yourself against her wetness. Your length dragged between her lips, up over her clit, and down again to poke at her entrance. You moved over and over, enjoying the tease.
The slow, sticky friction between the two of you. Her breath was sharp, as you slipped yourself over her and kissed at her neck. Every rock of your hips, she ground back against you.
"I think..." She hesitated. "Fuck. I think I'm ready. Just... go slow?"
The guilt of what's happened was a distant thing, a buzzing fly on a summer afternoon. The kind of thing that when you're so enthralled by something else, it becomes invisible. Then, with a nod and a shivering sigh, she reached down and gripped your cock. You bent back from kissing her so she could guide you.
Her tiny cunt. Her beautiful wetness. Her forbidden, decadent treasure.
Her breath was shaky. Her next words came out amid a tremble, "I've never... No one else."
You brushed stray strands of hair out of her face and ran your hand over her cheek. You gave her the reassurance she needed.
She told you, a few weeks later, how grateful she was that it was you. See, for all the filth that ran through her mind on an almost daily basis, she never imagined what it would be like. It being you—who you are and everything you meant to her—made it easy. Natural. Wonderful.
That first time, you took it all so slow. With her legs raised over yours. Watching the subtle changes in expression as you gradually moved more and more of your cock into her. Sinking deep between her pink, delicate walls. Your step-sister, panting and squirming beneath you.
"You okay?" you asked her.
"Ah... yes. This is... I love it," she responded between whining breaths.
It was just enough, the reassurance, so you could push into her the rest of the way. Her hand found its way to your shoulder; bracing as you eased in, her delicate frame tensing as you buried fully.
You watched her reaction and tried to be still as you felt her slick cunt pulse around you, wanting you. She swallowed and gripped you with the muscles within her. The second of respite didn't last long though; you weren't sure if it was a request or accident when her feet tapped against the curve of your ass, but it prompted you to fuck her.
"Feels... fuck." You sucked your breath between your teeth and braced yourself up on a shaky arm. You drew out slowly, and you noticed her nails digging into the arm you supported yourself upon. 
You groaned in relief more than anything else as your hips pumped the shallow strokes that sent electricity through your body. She started pushing herself onto you as she clutched your back, drawing her heels over the small of your spine. You looked down to see her eyelids were flickering, and the sight only served to inflame you more. Her moans were so erotic and encouraging.
That first time, it was special. You took your time together to explore each other's bodies, the curves of hips, the muscles, the valleys and ridges. You caressed your stepsister's gorgeous body and then tried your best to put her through another climax, as if your efforts to reach your own were less important.
"Fuck you're so tight," you told her, during those final thrusts, buried to the hilt in her tiny, soft pussy.
She spoke, her voice weak and shuddering, "You're big... inside me..."
The fact that she held you tighter in her embrace and how it seemed that she refused to let you out of her even as she came apart was telling.
She came that night, again, this time all over your cock. The first of many times to come. A string of incomprehensible cries erupted from her in the throes of that first proper fuck. Hanni's thighs flexed around your hips. She clung desperately to your body as she cried into your mouth as she climaxed.
Not long after is when you felt it too, that impending release. A coil of pressure. Unfamiliar and intense. The mere thought of emptying inside her drove you mad. Your fingers dug into her hips as you fucked your step-sister with complete abandon.
"Don't. Not inside. Please, not inside," she murmured in an incoherent mantra of guilt and pleasure, right next to your ear.
You didn't, of course. You drove yourself right to the edge and pulled out. Her juices coated your length, slick and wet as your cock twitched in anticipation of the final moments. Hanni wanted your release as badly as you did. She took you into her hand for the finish, gripping tightly and jerking that first hot shot of cum onto her soft tummy. You thrust through her hand to let the pleasure course through you. Each thrust sent a long rope splattering onto her naked skin as she grinned up at you, flushed and sweaty, covered in your lust.
That was the first night, but definitely not the last.
The next morning arrived with Hanni in your arms—the little spoon. The little naked spoon pressed against your body. Skin to skin. She woke you with the slow rocking motion of her body, grinding her plump cheeks against you.
"I could get used to this," she whispered under her breath, smiling against the crook of your arm. "Good morning," she said to you over her shoulder. "Sleep well? You had some pretty naughty dreams last night, didn't you?"
You responded with your erection growing against the warm crevice of her butt and a gentle hum as her ass rocked over it. That was no dream. "I did," you said groggily. "As naughty as yours."
"Mmmm," is all she had as a response, lost in the pleasant distraction, grinding herself back into you even more. As she did so, you grew harder, until your stiffness pressed against the plug still wedged into her ass. Hanni had left it there overnight. "The thing about dreams is that they're easy to forget. Want to remind me of mine?"
You ran your hand down her thigh, and that's how the second time started. You caressed her flesh for a while, feeling the softness of her thighs while she silently lay there, patiently allowing you to enjoy her.
Then, you grabbed her by the knee, opening her legs and then she spoke, "Are you going to make your step-sister cum again?"
So quickly did she become so utterly shameless. You grunted in reply and then you held her leg up by hooking under the knee, and shuffled down slightly, letting your hard cock slip from between her cheeks and go between her legs.
You closed your eyes and leaned into her. Lips at her shoulders, the kisses soon trailed to her neck. She hummed as you ground your cock between her folds. Not even putting in the effort to try to actually enter her just yet, just teasing your stepsister for the moment.
Her voice filled with the sweet sound of passion.
Your heart began pounding and a flush rose to your cheeks. You could have written that first night off as a mistake. One you would regret, forget and never make again. Not after this. This is a definitive choice. One of sound mind and body, not under the tension of an argument or anything else that happened before.
This is different.
Hanni reached her hand down between her legs, pulling your cock so it would slip into her when you shift your hips. "Fuck me," she begged.
You did. You slipped inside her and heard her moan in such sweet ecstasy. She gripped the pillow she slept on the night before, burying her face in it, and moaning into it in such sweet rapture. "Fuck, yes, harder," Hanni moaned.
When she pushed her hips back onto you, her ass brushed against your belly. The rhythm began. Slow. Lazy thrusts. Enjoying every sensation in the post-sleep haze, savouring the fact that you knew how good she felt on the inside. How incredible her wet, silky, tight depths felt when you slid in and out of them.
"Is this what you wanted?" Your voice is low, near a growl. Your arms around your step-sister. It shouldn't, by all accounts, feel natural to have her like that, but it did.
"Yes, it feels incredible. Please don't stop." Your cock bottomed out within her. As deep as you could go. You groaned, and stayed there for a while, feeling your stepsister clenching down, her inner walls trying to pull you in further.
Hanni's hands gripped at the bedsheets, clutching tightly to them. The position pressed the metal of the plug between her asscheeks, and as your thrusting continued, the sensation sent a tingle through her body. It was a filthy combination. One that allowed every stroke you drove into her cunt to simultaneously send an equally blissful shock straight into her ass.
It was madness for her to indulge in the ecstasy—for both of you to lose yourselves.
You grew faster, and she unwound completely. She grew limp as she reached her climax. She couldn't even grip the bedsheets, or the pillow, her body simply submitting to the pleasure. She merely lay there as your hips battered against her soft ass, fucking her right through it.
Then she asked you, right after it subsided, "Ever fantasised about cumming on my ass before?"
The way she asked that made the question feel almost normal. "That the sort of thing they do in the porn you watch?" You slowed for a bit to deliver the tease.
Hanni couldn't keep the shy smile from creeping across her lips. "There was this one video where a guy put it all over his sister's butt. Seemed like he really liked it."
The fact she talked to you about the dirty things she likes helped it all along. It was the extent of her experience, the videos, but it helped. What it told you about what she really likes, what she enjoys... It became the basis for all your dirty experiments.
"That sounds hot. You have a cute ass."
She giggled to herself, rolling her hips, getting up onto her hands and knees and facing away from you.
You seated yourself onto your calves, giving her space and watching as she turned, giving you the view you craved. "I do?" She said as she glanced back over her shoulder, showing her innocence and naïvete in all its splendour. Her eyes sparkled and then a smile spread over her lips to match that look in her eye.
"The cutest," you told her as you kneeled behind her. One hand caressed the outside of her thigh while the other gripped the base of your cock. Eyes firmly set on that beautiful plump ass. That was the second time in just a few hours that you covered Hanni in your cum.
She watched every second as you did, barely managing a blink. Arousal and delight danced over her features in equal measure, and your name left her tongue in the form of a delightful, drawn-out groan. The effect was very apparent. With every streak and ribbon of white landing, she gasped and moaned while staring at the mess.
From that moment on, you entered regularity. It seemed like for months, every chance the two of you got to fuck, you fucked. Her room. Your room. The shower. The sofa. The kitchen. Against that window that overlooks the city's skyline. A public bathroom. A hand job in the car while you're stuck in traffic. Riding your face in a park, hidden among trees, grass, and bushes. Fucking, kissing, and biting until the both of you are exhausted and sore and dripping with sweat. It never ceased. Two insatiable appetites. Your mutual loss of control continued. The affair felt so exhilarating. An explosion of forbidden sin in an otherwise normal existence.
It all came with its fair share of close calls. That Saturday morning surprise visit from your parents where you answered their knock at the door and they invited themselves in, all while Hanni lies naked in your bedroom. How you sneakily warned her before she emerged and spun the story to them both about how she slept on your floor out of fear after watching another one of her horror movies. They bought it, of course, because they couldn't imagine there being any other explanation.
Then there was Hanni's near miss with her group. She told you all about how Minji had picked up on how something had changed with her; about how convinced Minji was that Hanni had found herself a boyfriend. About the look Minji gave her as Hanni protested, and finally how she got away with a half-truth.
She told the girls it was because of you and how you would work out together on weekends to make her feel better.
Everything was going so well, which made this week even more confusing.
It's been days since you last saw her. The longest you have gone in some time. Long hours and staying over with her members are one thing. Going days with no word or anything at all is another. She ignored your texts, never returned your calls, and stopped showing up at home like you'd come to expect.
No warning.
Nothing.
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sleepyangelkami · 7 months ago
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BRO I NEEDDD MORE OF PERVERTED!!!! OMG LIKE YOUR MIND>>>>>
PERVERTED III c.grimes
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 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 3.6K
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CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER
 𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - after the perverted thoughts consume carl whole, he realises he needs to act on them and soon finds out that you need him to act on them just as badly.
 𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, heavy innocence kink, corruption kink, pervert!carl, fingering, dom!carl, sub!reader, size kink, pussy eating, cum eating, aged up characters, thigh riding-ish, manipulative carl, praise kink, petnames, use of y/n, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷
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after that night in your bedroom, carl was downright desperate.
he realised that he needed to act upon his thoughts before it drove him over the edge of insanity. but there you were, prancing around in your little skirts and dresses, ditzy as ever. how was he ever supposed to explain his need to you?
that was just it, he was going to have to show you.
carl had been your best friend for a long time. you could trust him with anything in the world and carl would know if you'd ever done anything. that was the beauty in it. your innocence was bliss.
you were so innocent to the corrupt minds around you, not a single notion of the horrid thoughts of others. not a clue in your mind of just what carl wanted to do to you. no what he needed to do to you.
he knew he was going to have to ease you into it.
the first time carl had let you feel anything was during a rainy night of alexandria. the clouds were dull and full, slapping down on the outside windows. rick and michonne were on yet another supply run, no surprise there, and you and carl had been put in charge of taking care of judith.
it wasn't until she had been laid down asleep in bed that carl began to shift his mind back to you.
the clouds dulled until they were long gone. the night sky had settled in.
the tv displaying pretty images illuminated the room as you sat on carl's lap. when he'd asked if you'd like to sit there, it came as no surprise. you'd sat on carl's lap tonnes of times. whether it was just you two alone, sitting on the bed or perhaps you were in public, choosing to sit on his thigh rather than the bench occupied by the others.
however, what you didn't know was carl had much more in store for you than just watching the stupid movie that was playing.
you were engrossed in the flashing pictures, watching as each changed to another. you were the type of person to pay all your attention to one thing at a time, finding it hard to focus on more than one.
that was when your attention shifted.
it was a mere, 'innocent', bounce of carl's knee.
he did it as some sort of a test. he'd waited until you were so interested in the movie to do it. your two thighs had splayed at either side of his own. he'd waited until your cunt was snug on the jeans of his leg to rub it gently against you.
and by the sudden breath that left your lips, he deemed that you were almost as satisfied as he was.
nevertheless, you shook the feeling. you assumed the boy beneath you was merely trying to get comfortable so you tried to do the same, writhing yourself in the slightest.
that was when the smallest of whimpers left your mouth. with wide eyes, you clamped your mouth shut, hoping carl hadn't heard. "you okay?" he spoke softly in your ear, alerting you that he had heard.
only, you weren't trying to do anything wrong. like i said, you'd sat on carl's lap tonnes of times. but this time seemed... different. you were suddenly hyper aware of your skirt that was riding up ever so slightly and the way that fixing your position on his leg felt... good?
being in an apocalypse and all, you never really got too much education on... down there.
that was what carl was for, you supposed. he was basically your teacher in everything, any question you had went directly to him.
but what you did know was that parts like that were private and not to be shared. which is why you merely let out a small 'mhm' to indicate that you were, in fact, okay.
"alright." he mumbled back, his voice low as if not to disturb the serenity of the room.
you let a breath out, relaxing once more onto his leg.
carl knew he could have stopped there, letting you be all confused for the rest of the evening on just what that feeling you had was. but he didn't know how much you'd taken in, he needed to make sure that the feeling you felt was going to stick.
which was why he waited mere seconds before bouncing his leg again, like a kid in class riddled with ADHD.
you'd seen carl bouncing his leg like a maniac many times before. he'd do it under a table when he was nervous or angry or anything really. he often cracked his knuckles even when there was no air left to crack and shook his legs like there was no tomorrow. carl was always moving.
so how could you tell him to stop?
what would you even say?
did you even want him to stop?
there was an odd feeling in your stomach as he continued to bounce his leg up and down, hitting smoothly against your covered area. your breathing picked up but you did everything in your will to steady it.
some called carl grimes an ADD nightmare, this was a normal thing for him.
why was it suddenly not so normal for you?
perhaps it was the way his chin gently rested on your shoulder, gentle breath hitting against your neck or the way his hands soothed around your waist, his own calloused hands against your gentle skin where your satin dress lay on top.
the skirt of your dress bounced with every bounce of his leg too, exposing more of your thighs with each steady movement.
he was calculating and gentle, as if he knew you were becoming dizzy.
your throat itched too. you couldn't fathom why though you had a feeling it was a noise trying to crawl out.
you couldn't so much as stop yourself before your hands outstretched onto his thigh, stopping his movements.
he did so with the slightest smirk on his lips, knowing he'd gotten you exactly where you wanted. the way your thighs gently shook around him, you wouldn't so much as turn around. oh yes, you'd definitely felt it.
before he could question you in that gentle, condescending tone, the front door could be heard unlocking.
"gotta get my jacket." was the mumble that fell from your mouth as you helped yourself off of the boy's leg, grasping the pretty coat that sat on the other couch, where you'd originally been sitting. carl got up too, glancing down to his thigh. it was a wonder that there wasn't a large wet splotch on his jeans.
shortly after, rick and michonne entered the house, looking tired as ever. they asked a couple questions about judith, making sure you'd both been taking care of her right before they found themselves stating that they were heading up to bed.
carl gave somewhat of a disgusted look to the way they were looking at eachother. he din't even want to imagine what they'd be getting up to the minute they stepped into the bedroom.
"you sure you don't wanna stay the night?" he questioned, walking you to the front door of his home. you didn't live too far away which was the only reason he was letting you walk out in the dark alone. with his luck, he'd see you getting settled into your house while he still stood at the door.
you looked up at him with slightly wide eyes, you looked a little dazed. your hands were holding eachother behind your back, ignoring the feeling throbbing through your cunt. how had he done something so simple and left you feeling like this? "mhm." you hummed.
he gave you a look. "and you're positive you're okay?" tilting his head. "you seem a little off." he knew exactly why you were off.
but you weren't going to let anything on. "no, i'm okay." nodding your head, trying to convince both him and yourself.
"you know you can talk to me about anything, right baby?" he stepped forward, his words a little quieter as he spoke to you. his eyes flickered down to your bottom lip between your top teeth. "anything at all..."
you looked like you were contemplating, unsure if it was exactly appropriate to share with anyone even if it was just your best friend.
though your eyes quickly turned back to rick who was now standing in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water. "I'm okay." you quickly quipped.
rick turned around, swallowing the water. "you off, y/n?" you nodded, swallowing thickly. "right, night then, and thanks again for watching judith."
"anytime." you mumbled back, eyes flickering up to carl. "g'night, carl."
"night, angel." and so, you left.
the sky rose just as soon as it had gone down. carl hadn't steadied his movements since. hours passed, merging into days and carl was getting braver by the second. he couldn't help it, you were like putty, just so easy to mold.
by the time the saturday sleepover rolled around again, the boy was near ecstatic.
he'd gotten you exactly where he wanted in many ways, with little fluttering touches and words whispered gently, that could have been taken in any way. but he must say, his favourite place to have you was sat atop his thigh, gently bumping against it as he shook it from the ground.
he did it again now, maggie and glenn were long gone on yet another supply run, stocking up on the foods. they wouldn't be home until the next morning, possibly the morning after that.
but there simply wasn't anything else carl could think about other than the girl sat perched on his thigh. your hands were near your stomach, fiddling with themseleves, pulling on your fingers gently, contemplating.
carl didn't stop the bounce of his knee, moving it so accurately that you could feel a pool forming in your panties. you'd never felt like this before. and you were sure that carl knew this too.
this was the longest he'd ever done it, he should have stopped ages ago, knowing he didn't wish to push you too far. however, your little shaky breaths had his head spinning, he couldn't stop, not now.
you were contemplating asking him to stop. something about his shaking leg beneath you had you feeling awfully funny. but you couldn't decipher if it was a good feeling or not. besides, you couldn't understand why it was that his moving leg had your head feeling dizzy.
"carl?" your mouth got the better of you. it was supposed to come out as a steady question, voice stable, however, it came out more breathless than you'd intended, a slight whine to the back of your throat.
carl's hands had gently been resting against your waist. "hm?" he took the hint to stop, though.
beneath you, his leg froze.
your mind went sort of fuzzy then, that was when you realised it had, in fact, been a good feeling. your mind raced back to moments ago when the wet patch was forming on your satin panties. you couldn't even register what was going on before you slid yourself against his leg, not once, not even twice.
"sweetheart?" his voice was soft, calculated. it had you realising what you were doing, but still, your aching cunt dragged across his jeaned leg. "what're you doing? hm?"
a breath fell from your lips. you gently willed yourself to stop your movements before turning your face to the boy. you had pinched brows, lips bitten, desperation written all over your face. "carl, i―" the words left had you frowning.
carl merely rubbed his fingers against your waist. "somethin' wrong?" he questioned softly. "'s just me, you can tell me, baby."
and suddenly, it was your last straw.
but carl had already known that.
he'd moved his hands so gently around you for the past week, bounced you against his thigh every chance he got and whispered meak things to you, calling you such pretty names. he knew sooner or later you were bound to snap.
"you..." you let out a sigh, eyes avoiding the boy. "you can't laugh."
without a second thought, carl's fingers hooked themselves beneath your chin, angling your face up and forcing you to look at him. "'m not gonna laugh at you, angel." and his comforting features looked as though they were telling nothing but the truth. "jus' tell me what's going on."
you sighed, trying to avert your eyes. "everytime you bounce your leg... it feels funny." you tried to keep your voice as low as possible, throat closing and your cheeks heating up. it was hard trying to keep your composure in font of him, especially when talking about such a private thing.
"yeah?" seemingly unfazed by what you'd told him. "where's it feel funny?" again, your cheeks heated up, only this time you were sure that you were as red as a tomato. "baby, i can't help you if you don't tell me."
and you were sure you needed his help. after all, he was the only one that had made you feel so... worked up. instead of uttering a word, you practically whined before pushing your head into his shirt covered chest. you grasped his hand, sucking in as you guided it downwards.
carl couldn't help but smirk as you moved his hand to cup your shorts-covered cunt. you whimpered at the touch of his hand, quickly moving your own away, as if scared you were going to mess something up.
carl placed his palm against the pale shorts, his thumb moving up towards your clit and gently drawing circles. you whined loudly. "here's where it feels funny, huh?" you nodded your head quickly, breaths falling ragged as his gentle, tight circles moved against your clit. "y'gonna answer me?"
"y-yes." coming out as more of a moan rather than an answer. you were suddenly thankful that maggie and glenn were nowhere to be found in the house.
there was a sudden smile splayed on his lips. "good girl." he mumbled, sending electric shocks through your body and right down to your aching pussy. you couldn't understand how two simple words were enough to have you rutting your hips against the boys hands.
though instantly, your face heated again. embarrassment flooded you as you realised what was happening, stinging tears finding it's way to your eyes. "carl." you spluttered out, whimpering as you did so. carl merely shushed you, his free hand coming down to land on the back of your hair, holding your head close to it's place on his chest.
"wh's wrong, baby?" he waited for a response, all you could give him was a second whimper. "want me to stop?"
"no!" was your much too enthusiastic response that had his lips curving upwards. so you did want it as much as he did. "no, please don't stop."
"then tell me what you want." you shied away, cheeks evidently rosy and pink. but you didn't utter a word, much too sheepish.
suddenly, the feeling he was giving to your clit completely stopped. his hand still hung low but they didn't touch you. the whine you let out had your eyes turning glassy. he reminded you that he'd asked you to tell him what you wanted. but you could barely hear his voice now, mind too clouded with the previous pleasure. "f-felt..." your own hand attempted to replace his, rubbing at your covered cunt but it didn't give you the pleasure his had.
you felt his hand reach up and snap your wrist between his fingers, stopping your movements. "you wanna feel good, huh?" you nodded your head, tears stinging. "then the only hands that get to touch you are mine, understood?" you nodded before he squeezed on your wrist, not hard enough to hurt. "understood?"
"yes." was the breathless word as his fingers let go of your wrist.
"now, tell me what you want." almost instantly, his stern voice had disappeared and turned into one of softness again. it was almost scary how quickly he could turn from one demeanour to another. but you were much too hazy now to question anything.
you breathed heavily, cheeks warm. but carl just waited, his eyes looking at you full of admiration, a stark contrast to the stern look he'd had before. "i want..." he waited, not rushing you, patiently. "want you to make me feel good." your voice was so quiet, so small and you were looking anywhere but his face. you thought it was somewhat awkward in a sense, more scary really. he'd shrug it off for your natural shyness that simply never went away.
"see?" his voice gentle and loving. "wasn't hard, was it?" you shook your head no despite it being the hardest thing you'd done all year. "now get onto your back, angel." you did what he said, not wishing to disappoint him. he followed by climbing on top of you, watching your doe eyes slightly widen.
a breath.
he was so close, lips practically brushing against your own. you'd known carl a very long time but you were sure this was the closest he'd ever been. "'m gonna kiss you, okay?" you nodded, slightly unsure. you'd never been kissed before and you had no idea that it related to the feeling that you'd felt earlier. "it'll all make sense in a second, sweetheart." he mumbled, hands on your waist. "just... relax."
and suddenly, his lips were on yours.
his lips were even softer than they looked. and if that was what you thought of his lips, you could only imagine what he thought of yours. he kissed you gently, open mouthed kissing with his tongue slipping past yours.
now you understood.
it definitely related to the feeling.
as he was kissing you, you had the sudden urge to roll your hips upwards, into his own. carl had this way of making you feel so comfortable that you didn't have to worry the outcome. so you did. rolling your hips gently yet desperately.
you felt him let out a harsher breath into your mouth. his lips moved from your mouth. you felt him press a kiss to the corner of your lips, then to your chin and down to your neck. the feeling of him sucking against the supple skin had a whimper falling from your lips, then another and a long stretched whine.
his lips moved away and his tongue soothed down the hurt skin.
you supposed, you knew what sex was. it was an intimate form of love on your partner. was that what you and carl were going to do? sex? carl wasn't your boyfriend but he was the only one in the entire world you'd felt such a connection to. you supposed, if anyone was to have sex with you, it may as well be carl grimes.
"sweetheart." he breathed against your neck. "keep making sounds like that 'n i won't be able to last." to last? for what?
you didn't even care what he was saying, just the sound of his voice was enough to have you reeling. "carl, please just..."
"shh." he hushed you, practically cooing. "s'needy." before his hands moved back down towards your shorts. "can i take this off?" though he wasn't just grasping the band of your shorts but of your panties too. however, you couldn't seem to care. nodding enthusiastically before helping him guide the material off your body.
carl's breath hitched in his throat. he'd seen you before, he'd seen you when you were sleeping and he plunged a finger inside you, tasted you even. even so, it was like seeing you for the first time all over again.
he could see you red as a tomato above him, covering your face. you'd known carl forever, but something about being nude with him over you on your couch seemed like something a best friend shouldn't do. carl didn't allow the shyness to continue, peppering gentle kisses across the skin of your face. "hey, hey." gently removing your hands. "you're beautiful."
your hands suddenly pawed at the end of his shirt. if you were going to be bare, he should too, right? "can you..?"
"wan't me to take of my shirt, baby?" you only nodded, pressing your lips together. he nodded himself before placing his hands at the end of his shirt, bringing it up and above his head, tossing it off the couch. "your turn." he mumbled, pressing kisses to your neck before grasping the bottom of your own shirt. you allowed him to pull it over your own head.
it was no surprise that there was no bra found underneath, your perky tits bouncing gently. he moved his lips downwards, sucking on one and grasping the other between his fingers, flicking over your pretty nipple. you whined, back arching off the couch and hands finding his hair, tugging at the strands.
his lips popped over your nipple, letting go with a string of spit attatching the two of you. he pushed his large hand onto your chest, thumb at one end of your tits and other fingers at the other, pushing them together. you were so small compared to him, it had his own mind reeling. "so fucking pretty."
"carl." there was desperation in his eyes. the amount of times you had uttered his name would have made anyone think you were reciting it as if he were god himself. "need you." you didn't even know what you meant yourself. all you did know was that you needed him, in whatever way possible.
"i know, pretty girl." his fingers traced your cheek, cupping it ever so softly. "'m gonna touch you, okay?"
nervously, you found yourself nodding. you knew by him touching you, the ache would go away. how you knew that, you were unsure. perhaps it was because you put so much trust in carl to do what was right.
you expected the soft flutter of his long fingers, the gentle tracing of the pads against your skin. what you hadn't been expecting was the mouth that suddenly landed on your core.
as if on cue, your back arched against the couch once more. a moan of both surprise and pleasure fell from your lips. you felt the vibrations of a chuckle throughout your body, from him. he'd been waiting for this moment for too long to let it slip from his fingers.
the foreign feeling of a face between your thighs had you writhing. you allowed his tongue to explore your cunt, whining and whimpering while your hands clung to his hair, overcome with a foreign pleasure.
never, had you felt this good in your entire life.
an eerie sense was embedded right in your stomach, telling you that this was all wrong. the feelings you felt and the way his hands moved against your body, it had to be wrong. but the pleasure of his tongue lapping against your cunt told you that no matter how hard he tried, nothing carl could do would ever be wrong.
you felt him insert a finger into your hole and you were sure you'd lost it.
"carl!" you moaned out, unsure what words to use. "carl―nughhh!" no words could grasp your tongue signifying how good it felt.
your wetness seeped onto his tongue, decorating it with your pretty juices, and his finger had a rim of white surrounding it, belonging to you. his face moved up from your pussy, glancing to your own face. your head was thrown back, eyes shut and reflection twisted. "i know, baby." pumping his finger in and out of you in quick motions. "feels good, huh?"
you nodded your head, babbling incoherently despite the fact that carl couldn't make out a single word you said. he nodded with a smirk, anyway.
this was so much better now that you were awake.
"uh huh?" he was practically testing you, your moans coming out strangled and harsh. "yeah, told you i'd fix it, huh?"
and boy, did he fix it.
the sensation grew and you began to get a sudden knotted feeling in your stomach. it was foreign, new and strange. but despite that, you were sure you'd felt it before. perhaps in a dream? one of which carl had remembered all too well.
a sudden panicked state came over you. "carl" you babbled out, a hint of worry in your voice.
carl placed his free hand on your thigh, gently rubbing against it and shushing you. "shh, shh, you can take it." his mouth travelling back to where you needed him the most.
you couldn't even give him a warning.
the orgasm fell over you before you could even register what was happening. your back practically lept from the couch, good thing carl's hand had been keeping your stomach steady against the material. mewls fell from your lips, shameful mewls that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
your legs shook from around his head, his name falling from your red and swollen lips like a prayer, fingers tight around his little curls.
finally, his head reappeared from it's place between your thighs, a grin on his face.
your eyes were low, sort of red. and he swore it was the prettiest sight he'd ever seen.
"feel good, huh?" pride on his smug face. he came up to meet your own by the arm of the couch, hand moving your hair past your ear.
you had this sinking, gnawing feeling as you glanced up at him. "but... what about you?" thinking that surely couldn't have made him feel good. you'd never experienced pleasure like that before, you were sure everyone in the world should get to experience it at least once.
"don't worry about me, sweet girl." peppering gentle kisses to the nape of your neck. "next time." he spoke despite his hand moving against his dick, straightening it out after his own cum leaked through his jeans.
he came in his pants because of you. again.
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main masterlist/carl's masterlist
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xazse · 2 months ago
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*crunch* *crunch* *crunch* dinner is so tasty z , but... Where is dessert?😏
imagine!! Where Geto goes out to pick some ingredients for dessert because wolfhybrid! satoru and puppygirlhybrid! Reader have been listening and obeying Geto(which he is suspicious of it but doesn't quistion it) so he decides to give them a little reward by making something sweet.
Before geto left to go to the market, he gave the both hybrid's a warning to behave. When geto finally left, (reader) decides to be mischievous again, rubbing herself all over satoru and being very clingy.
Well one thing led to another to the point where the puppy hybrid has satoru spread his legs, shuddering, grunting and his cock covered with whipped cream and sprinkles while (reader) eagerly sucks his cock!
Bottle of whipped cream and a bottle of sprinkles on the floor just in case (reader) wants more.
(love u 💓 💓 don't forget to take breaks and stay hydrated, stay safe!!! ≤3333)
HII I LOVE THIS?? IN FACT I LOVE YOU THANK YOU! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS AND ALSO ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTED MORE WOLF!SATORU X HYBRIDPUPPY!READER
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The moment geto came back with the desert groceries and insisted that he needed a nap, he made sure to give you a sharp glare, a warning. He had been watching you and Gojo ever since that day like hawks, he didn’t let you touch Gojo let alone even sometimes be in the same room as you. Lately he hasn’t been too worried you showed remorse for that day and he praised you for how good you’ve been.
It seemed anything worked Gojo up. He got a taste of pleasure and wanted more so badly. Suguru had caught him on multiple occasions exploring his body, he’d stopped it anytime he could without making Satoru embarrassed.
He just couldn’t have a house full of little hybrids running around, he just needed a little time until he could consult with a hybrid specialist to let you and Satoru do your own thing.
He’d been so busy dealing with you two that he had neglected his sleep, bags had begun to grow under his eyes. He needed this and he needed a little hard headed thing like you to actually listen this time. You obediently nodded when he told you that you can have the whole house to yourself expect for his bedroom.
As extra precaution he had Satoru locked up in his room with him whilst he sleeps, Satoru doesn’t mind, it also gives him a little time to rest as well.
It had been a couple of hours and Suguru was still dead asleep, it seemed he really needed this. You’d been listening so far, just browsing the Tv until that had gotten you bored.
You just needed someone to talk to, you’d still listen to Suguru about not having sex with Satoru but you could touch him could you not?
You walk silently on the cold marble floors and make your way to his bedroom, knocking quietly you whisper Satoru’s name, and just like him he comes.
Satoru didn’t like being scolded by Suguru so when you came face to face with him he said he’d only keep you company to watch movies that’s it.
But regardless you’re always gonna get your way with the innocent wolfman.
It doesn’t take you even an hour into the movie to start subtly making moves on him.
“It’s just cuddling Toru, we won’t get in trouble for that.”
If it’s just cuddling why are you licking at him again? If it’s nothing why are you softly biting at his neck? Rubbing the tip of his sensitive tail?
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“Taste so sweet Toru”
“Toru” couldn’t function or even speak properly, he’s covering his beet red face with his arms and whining behind them.
His pretty cock is decorated with whipped-cream and blue sprinkles that match his equally pretty eyes.
The whip is melting by the minute so of course you need to clean it up! Getting it on Suguru’s expensive couch just won’t work nor are their any paper towels that could clean this up!
You start low with laving your tongue all around his cock messily, not caring for any particular spot, just trying to lick it all up before it becomes mush.
Satoru doesn’t know why he’s letting you have this much power over him, you’re half his damn size and yet you can do whatever you want and he wouldn’t complain.
He nearly jumps, almost ruining your project when you start sucking the cream off his sensitive balls, the man is howling in being overwhelmed with all these new sensations.
When the sides are all clean you take his hole length in your mouth making sure nothing was left behind, even the sticky residue.
“Nggh- please.. don’t wanna get in troub-“ you use your tongue to tease his slit, poking and prodding at his leaky tip, he can’t last he won’t last, his hips thrust agaisnt the source of pleasure a few times before he’s finally cumming on your face.
His tummy hurts bad from how hard he came, but you haven’t stopped your licking just yet. He tries his hardest to get up but his wobbly legs has him being seated in the same position, this time with your arms locked around his thighs. You aren’t full just yet.
He whimpers and whimpers at you, are all puppygirls this fucking hardheaded? Your tongue starts lapping up all his cum, he thinks it’s dirty, thinks it’s so nasty how you’re just like this.
You let go of one of his thighs to rub at your sodden little clit, he can see everything you’re doing behind his half lidded eyes. He can hear just how wet you are and that makes him groan, groan at how his cock is getting fully hard again.
He begins rubbing your little floppy ears, making sure to rub the sensitive inside part slowly. You’re still licking and sucking at his cock while he does that.
“Toru.. don-stop” you’re panting below him and rubbing your little nub even faster than before.
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akihikosanada · 2 years ago
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finished the boys s3 last night and i have a lot of questions but not none of them are particularly good
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xiofaire · 5 months ago
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Things I cannot wait for in my better cr dr:
- no discrimination
- no poverty
- no rivalry between countries
- porn doesn’t exist (I feel like people don’t realize it’s a huge problem)
- nudity isn’t a thing in movies and tv shows (it’s a huge pet peeve of mine, it ruins a cinema piece for me)
- being a prodigy in playing the harp, piano & guitar
- my family has a lot of money so we can travel a lot
- I can eat anything without feeling guilty or gaining weight when I don’t want to
- being able to have the clothes on my pinterest
- being able to buy my wishlist without worrying about money
- having a friend group again
- having a good social life including a better Highschool experience
- pretty privilege
- my dream bedroom
- having confidence
- my cousins being able to visit us from their home country
- having a black Birkin bag (idk why but I want one badly)
- social media and media in general isn’t harmful
- being close with my half sister
- having another house on the coast of California
- having light green eyes
- going to my fav artists concerts (not having to worry about the prices of the tickets)
- and so much more I cannot wait.
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pftones3482 · 2 years ago
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I want to be excited for the live action Little Mermaid so badly
The Little Mermaid is my favorite Disney movie. Anyone who knows me knows I'm obsessed with mermaids as a whole and will watch any media that has them. Hell, I own my own tails and monofins. But every time I see a gif or a video for the new Little Mermaid, I cringe
(btw, this is NOT because of the casting. If you're against this movie because Ariel is black, you're a racist piece of shit and this post isn't for you)
My issue lies with the CGI. It just looks so FAKE. We've seen through the course of movies and TV shows that use it that CGI does not age well, and that's because technology is constantly improving. What was impressive in 2005 is not impressive in 2023 (Just look at Aquamarine, another movie about mermaids). And the CGI on Ariel and her sisters already looks fake and the movie isn't even out yet!
Compare this image from the trailer
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To this screenshot from H20: Just Add Water (a TV show that came out in 2006):
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You can see the details of the scales in the second image
The first image is flat. Sure, it's colorful, but it's flat. It's fake. Halle herself is the most beautiful and alive part of the image, because everything else is fake
The difference?
H20 had costume designers, ones specifically trained in mermaid tail making, HAND CRAFT every tail on the show. All of the scales were hand laid, all the tails molded to fit the actors/actresses perfectly, painted by hand
Let's even look at someone with no affiliation to TV or movies:
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This is Mermaid Linden, a very well known (in the mermaid community) professional mermaid. You can tell her tail is not as high quality as the ones made for H20 (though it's still a VERY expensive tail) - but it still looks like it's a part of her. You can still see the details. Because professional mermaid tails are also all handmade and molded to fit each person. Even if they don't lay every individual scale, good professional mermaid tail makers are very meticulous about what they do.
This is what happens when Disney refuses to pay practical effects artists. We could have had beautiful, handmade tails that would look real on screen for decades to come and could be reused for promotional purposes - instead, they're underpaying and overworking their non-unionized employees to make CGI tails that don't even look real now.
(to be clear, I'm not shitting on the artists. As I said, they're being underpaid and overworked. This is not their fault)
And before anyone comes and says "But swimming in those is difficult!" Absolutely it is. You should never swim in a professional level tail (or even just fabric tails) without practice and training. Which Disney could have given the cast if they were willing to PAY people (the cast of H20 [a TV SHOW] literally learned how to be mermaids on set. It's been done before)
Disney's "Live Action" needs to be rebranded as "CGI with some real people tossed in" because that's all any of these remakes have been, and it's exhausting when I look at what we could have had.
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thefangirlfever · 7 months ago
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Sexy dbf! Miguel that, dominant dbf! Miguel this... What about corny and soft dbf! MIiguel?
Like dbf! Miguel making dad jokes.
dbf! Miguel who is bad with a computer, like really bad it's actually funny.
dbf! Miguel who falls asleep in the middle of watching TV, his glasses dangling from his nose as he quietly snores?
What about dbf! Miguel who sings badly but proudly at the top of his longs during every car ride the bangers from his younger days?
Dbf! Miguel whose passion is like puzzles. He is actually very good at this. And even if he feels a bit embarrassed to show them to you, you're never judgmental with him. And he feels more and more confident to show you the small scale models he makes during his free time. Like this man is skilled with his hands (in more ways than one) and he likes this type of hobbies who allow him to relax.
dbf! Miguel who always guesses the culprit during a thriller. You don't know how he does that but he is always right.
What about dbf! Miguel who is so embarrassed that he actually turns red when you discover old pictures of him with his very questionable fashion sense from the 90s?
dbf! Miguel who snuggles up with you on the couch to watch old movies with you during a rainy day, remembering how he used to see them in the theaters when they came out and now they are this easily available and he can enjoy them with you.
dbf! Miguel who laughs with you when you both watch an old horror movie together, trying to convince you that it was actually scary at the time. But all you can see are the poor special effects, the pathetic plastic mannequin supposed to be a dead body...but he doesn't care if the movie you're watching sucks because you're actually together.
What about insecure dbf!Miguel who starts panicking when he notices a few grey hair on his head. And he turns all sheepish and looks at you with a guilty look when you stumble upon him trying to dye his grey roots.
Absolutely flustered dbf!Miguel who squirms and blushes slightly when you tell him that he doesn't need to hide himself, to hide anything or that his hair shines like silver.
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I think I like dbf! Miguel because this AU allows us to imagine Miguel getting older, which is something he might not be able to do because of his dangerous life and his mutation. Like, I want that man to experience a real, peaceful life at some point.
That's enough delusion for today. I'll leave you with these thoughts ~
Edit: thanks for the 200 likes, folks. I'm so glad you liked this 🌻
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munsonsmixtapes · 7 days ago
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i dont know if this is already written but could you write reader is chrissy’s bestfriend who likes eddie and chrissy knows about the readers crush and then gets with eddie and the readers is so heart broken but at the end she finally gets eddie thank uu 🤭😇
Eddie Munson x cheerleader!reader
cw: hurt/comfort
You find yourself at yet another sleepover at Chrissy’s. It seems like you’ve spent every weekend there, especially during the school year when she can drive the both of you there. Her house has easily become a second home to you and you really enjoy going over there.
Especially considering that she’s your best friend and has been since you could remember. In fact, you don’t really have any memories where Chrissy wasn’t present. Your earliest memory was your third birthday and the two of you were side by side as you both blew out the candles on your cake. You look back on that moment often and even have a photo of it on your desk in your room.
You’re both on Chrissy’s bed giggling at a movie that plays on the TV, both ogling the male lead who just so happens to look like your crush. If you’re being honest, though, that’s the only reason why you’re watching.
You’ve been crushing on Eddie since the moment you saw him. Unlike everyone else, you seem to see him for who exactly he is, even stand up for him when your friends make fun of him. You don’t know why everyone seems to hate him when he’s morning but a sweetheart, at least, from what you’ve seen.
You’ve only been to a few Hellfire sessions but from what you’ve gathered, he’s super sweet and just all around a goofball. So why people keep calling him a freak and think that he’s the devil incarnate you’ll never understand.
He goes out of his way to help you when you’re lost and it warms your heart every time, making you fall for him even harder. You know it seems silly, but you can't help it. You see the real him, the dside he's aafraid to show to just anyone and that makes you feel special, like you're actually apart of his group.
But the thing that hurts the most is that you know how badly he's crushing on Chrissy, because of course he is. Because she's popular, pretty, and sweet. Because it just makes sense that he would crush on one of the most popular girls in school. Because your life is so unfair that that just makes sense.
"He looks kind of like..." she pauses, turning to you. Chrissy knows all about your crush on Eddie and is quick to tease you about it any chance she gets. She doesn't understand why you would like someone like him where there are plenty of fish in the sea. If she's being honest, though, she only does it because that's the only thing she has on you. Because she's envious of you and that's the only was she knows she can get under your skin. She knows it's wrong, especially when you're friends, but she's jealous of you, , she sees you as a threat, so she'll do anything to get you out of her way.
"Does he?" You play dumb but she's not buying it as she gives you a shove while throwing some popcorn that's sitting in the bowl between you two at you.
"That's the whole reason why you wanted to watch this, isnt it?" She asks with a laugh and you feel your cheeks heat as your secret has finally been revealed.
"Maybe," you draw out the word as you throw some popcorn back and she manages to catch it in her mouth.
"Do you really think it's good idea getting close to him? I mean, isn't he a devil worshipper or whatever?" He's not and she knows that. She's just trying to push your buttons, trying to make you see how wrong you are. Because as your friend, she feels like she needs to guide you in the right direction. Because how bad would it look if her best friend was hanging out with the Hellfire club, let alone their leader?
"No," you shake your head furiously. "He's not at all. And you'd know that if you went to any of the sessions with me."
"I'm busy, y/n, and you know that. And it's not like I'd spend my one free night a week with a bunch of losers. Present company included."
Your mouth falls open at the last sentence and you have to turn away so she won’t see the tears forming in your eyes. Anyone else calling you that would be one thing, but your best friend? Well, she might have stabbed you in the back with how betrayed you felt.
You stand from the bed and turn your back to her, wiping your tears from your cheeks before collecting your duffel bag from the floor and putting the strap over your shoulder.
“Oh, c’mon, y/n,” Chrissy rolls her eyes as you turn face her. “You’re not really leaving because of this, are you?”
“I am,” you nod. “You don’t want to hang out with a loser like me anyway,” you mumble, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you move towards the door, but Chrissy stops you when she puts her hand on her shoulder.
"Look," she sighs, turning you around to face her. "I'm just tell it like it is. Ever since you started hanging out with those weirdos, you've changed. You've been dressing differently," she refers to your outfit which consits of your Hellfire shirt you had worn for the session that night. "And you didn't even come to the game tonight. We were one man down for what? So you could go worship the devil? We really needed you, y/n. You're our best flyer."
"I'm sorry, I just-" You're afraid to tell her that it's because you don't like what you've become by hanging out with the popular crowd. You want to surround yourself with good people and you're sure that the hellfire club is filled with just that. You don't care about their reputations nor understand why Chrissy does.
"You're just what y/n?" Chrissy asks, her words sounding like venom and you step back, suddently afraid of her. "You hanging out with them makes me weird by association and do you know what that does for the head cheerleader? It means that those freaks think they can talk to me and that's all your fault. So if you want to continue to be friends with me, you're going to have to cut them off."
You let her words sink in, and tghe more you look at her, the more you don't recognizer her. The person standing in front of you may look like Chrissy, but she's definitely not behaving like her. And suddenly, you're feeling sick as you realize what you have to do. You don't want to, but what other choice do you have?
"You've actually made this so easy for me. Goodbye, Chrissy," you turn on your heel to head towards the door, but she stands in front of it, preventing you from leaving.
"You're not serious," she shakes her head, a humorless passing through her lips. "You're ending fifteen years of friendships for some guy? What the fuck, y/n?"
"Not, not for some guy, Chrissy. I'm doing it for myself because I deserve better. Now if you'll excuse me," you motion for her to move out of the way. You can paractically see the smoke coming out of her ears as you step aside, but that't not your problem anymore.
You open the door and hurry down the stairs as you feel more tears trailing down your cheeks as Chrissy calls after you.
"And don't think you can ever step foot in here again!"
Oh, you won't. You have no reason to.
You get out the front door and slam it closed as you step out onto the porch, realizing that she drove you home, but thankfully, you live just up the street. And because you seem to have really shitty luck, it begins to pour rain. You don't care anymore, though. You just need to get home. So you sprint that way, not sto[[ing undtipping until you get to your front door, -hurrying up to your room, hoping that your parents dont hear you.
As soon as your up the stairs, you hurry to the bathroom and strip your soaked clothes before turning on the shower. Once it’s hot enough, you step in, and as you’re doing all the tasks, you suddenly feel so much lighter even though you’re sobbing.
You’ve been wanting to end your friendship with Chrissy for a while, you just never thought it’d be like this. Because she’s more worried about her own image than she is about you. That’s the part that hurts the most, you think. She knows how happy being a part of hellfire makes you, it’s the first time you’ve actually felt like you belonged. And here she is, asking you to give it up like it’s nothing because it makes her look bad.
She knows that you’ve never liked being a cheerleader. It was just something that the two of you could do together so she forced you to try out with her freshman year. And yeah, maybe you should have told her you weren’t going to be at the game tonight, but you didn’t want to hear it.
After your shower, you cry yourself to sleep, mourning the loss of your friendship, the memories you had made together over the years, the person you thought you knew but clearly didn’t.
You spend the entire weekend in your room ignoring Chrissy’s calls, trying to work on your homework. She thinks it’s just a little fight, that you were being dramatic, but you’re not giving in this time. All ties have been cut and you’re not going to let her suck you back in. This is for the better, you know it.
-
Monday rolls around pretty quickly and all you’re looking forward to is seeing Eddie. You wanted to go over to his trailer after you let Chrissy’s on Friday night, but you didn’t want to bother him. After hellfire, he has talked about going him and planning the next session so you didn’t want to be a distraction.
He spots you by your locker and makes a beeline for you, hurrying to pull his gift for you out of his backpack. You spot him down the hallway and feel your heartbeat quicken as you realize that he's approaching you. He's got on that big grin and you can't help but match it.
"Hey," he greets. "How great was that session the other night?" He's filled with pride and normally, you would have haearts in your eyes, but not today. You haven't even thought about him the entire weekend, Chrissy taking up every square of your brain.
"Really great," you agree with a nod as you take the book you need for first period out of your locker and put it in your backpack. You can tell that he thinks something's off and you want to tell him about Chrissy and what happened over the weekend. You think it'll make you feel better and Eddie's always a great listener.
"You know, you never answered my call last night, is everything-" Eddie's question is cut off by Chrissy resting her hand on his shoulder and right before you can ask what's going on, she turns him to face her and presses a kiss to his lips. You feel bile rising in you throat as you watch them, that pit that's been in your stomach the entire weekend growing larger and larger.
"Hey, baby," she says as she runs her fingers through his hair. And that's when it all clicks for you. They're together. So, what, first she calls him edvery name in the book and now she's kissing him and calling him baby? How much had you missed since Friday?
She then turns to you and puts on a devilish grin, still running her hands through the hair you had fantasized about touching, almost as if she's trying to taunt you. You can tell by the look on her face that she's up to something and you hate that she's using Eddie just to prove a point.
"What's going on?" You ask even though you don't want actually want to hear it and are pretty sure that you already know the answer.
"Oh," she lets out a laugh that sounds condescending, as if she's making fun of you, and she definitely is. Because, after all, you're more often than not the butt of all of Chrissy's jokes. "Didn't Eddie tell you?" She asks, tilting her head to the side as her eyebrows furrow. "He's my boyfriend now."
In that moment, your vision blurs and you're sure that you're either going to pass out or throw up or both. This is all so sick and twisted, even for Chrissy. None of this was making any sense to you and you desperately needed to find out what had happened over the weekend.
Without a word, you grab her by the arm and pull her into one of the emtpy classrooms. You don't know what she's playing at, but you really want to get to the bottom of it. You knew that Eddie had been crushing on her, but Chrissy wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole. And that was a direct quote.
You shut the door and left it cracked, giving Eddie the perfet opportunity to eavesdrop. He ws normally a nosy person, but he just had to know what was going on between the two of you.
“This is low, even for you,” you told her and she just rolls her eyes again then leans against one of the tables.
“You’re just mad that I got to him first,” she replies almost as if she’s bored. She’s examining her nails almost as if she thinks this conversation isn’t important to her.
“No,” you glare at her. “I’m mad that you’re using him just to get back at me.”
“You know, not everything is about you, y/n. Maybe I really like Eddie.” You both know the truth and she hates that you’ve clocked it.
“But you don’t. This is just your sick form of revenge for me ending our friendship. I wonder what Eddie would say if he found out the real reason why you’re dating him.”
Eddie’s eyes widen at the revelation. He knew something was up with the whole thing, but he just didn’t know what. Now he had proof of what Chrissy had done. God, he felt so fucking stupid. He actually thought that she had liked him but apparently he had been wrong.
Before he could stop himself, he was bursting through the door. Anger was bubbling up inside him and he wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do, but he had to say something.
“What?” He spits and the girls turn towards him, their eyes widening as they step away from each other.
“Eddie-“ Chrissy tries to say, but Eddie holds his hands up, cutting her off.
“I can’t believe-“ he lets out a deep breath. “I can’t believe I actually fell for that bullshit.”
“What bullshit? Eddie, I love you.”
“No you don’t. Because when you love someone, you don’t use their feelings for you as a way to get back at someone. Whatever we had is over now.” You can practically see the smoke coming out of his ears and he turns to you, his face softening.
He can see tears welling in your eyes when you look at him and his heart breaks for you. He doesn’t care about how he feels anymore. Being used is one thing, but being used to hurt the girl he likes is another.
He had liked Chrissy from the beginning, but then you came along. And you were sweet and smart and kind and you treated him like he was a normal person, not some freak. He really liked you, but Chrissy had convinced him that you liked someone else. But why would you have cared so much if you had? You like him too, don’t you?
He watches you flee the room in a blur and without another thought, he follows behind you, ignoring Chrissy calling behind him. He chases after you, hurrying down the school hallway as you make your way to the parking lot.
“Y/n!” He calls after you. He’s not going to let you get away until he tells you exactly how he feels. “Y/n!”
You ignore him and head to your car, feeling tears streaming down your cheeks. He comes up behind you as you use your key to unlock the driver’s seat door and you can’t get yourself to turn around.
“Can you please look at me?” He asks, the words sounding so pathetic, so desperate, and you feel your heart clench as you hear them.
Without a word, you turn around and Eddie’s quick to wipe the tears away with the pad of his thumb. And then by your surprise, he presses his lips to yours as his hands move up to cup your cheeks.
You’re quick to respond, your lips moving with his as your arms wrap around his neck pulling him closer to you.
“It’s you,” he mumbles against your lips. “It’s always been you.”
“It’s always been you too.”
You stay like that for a while, everything else completely irrelevant except for each other. You just want to be wrapped up in him forever, totally unaware that he had felt the same way until now. And there was absolutely no way you were letting him go.
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luveline · 8 months ago
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jade my heart I’m really feeling Peter parker tonight in this chilis. maybe just Pete listening to r go on about something she likes? Like a book or a tv show and he’s just listening but also so obsessed with her and thinks she’s adorable? I love u! 🫶🏻
ily ty for requesting <3 fem
“It’s a prequel, you know?” 
Peter feels fondness for you pretty much every second of the day, but the way you’re asking without looking at him, and the way you’re laying across his lap so unbothered, he finds himself grinning like a mad man. “I did not know that,” he says. 
You nod up and down with a severe sort of look about you, as though this is of the utmost importance. If Peter doesn’t get on the same page as you soon, he’s not gonna make it. “I can’t believe you’ve never seen the first trilogy. Like, I like you so much, but where the hell have you been?” 
“Where have I been?” he wonders. 
“Anyways, that’s not the point, sorry. They’re complicated movies. You’d like them, though. Next time I’ll bring my DVD’s and we can watch them, if you want to, you’ll really like them, or you’ll really like Natalie Portman, at least. She’s beautiful. And her character is so… complicated, I guess, she’s doomed from the beginning of the narrative and she’s the catalyst for so much but she’s also just… sorry, I’m being totally boring.” 
“Says who?” 
Doesn’t take much more than that to get you rolling again, you want to tell him that badly, “I don’t wanna spoil it anymore because I really think you’ll love them if you watch them, but you’re gonna need to watch the first trilogy to get the emotional impact, and you’ll love them, don’t worry.” 
“I’ll love them,” he agrees, attempting to lean down for a kiss. 
“Wait, is this a shut me up kiss?” you whisper. 
Peter shakes his head as he kisses you, serving for a wobbly but soft press of your lips to his. “Never. Tell me everything about it.” 
You talk until you’re hoarse, literally hoarse, and Peter has to make you a cup of water. His cheeks are hurting from smiling at you. You’ve never looked this cute, not once, not even when he took you to Coney Island and you screamed the house down on all the rides. 
“I think we better go and get those DVDs,” he says. 
“It’s dark out,” you say. 
“We’ll swing.” 
“Isn’t that against your code of ethics?” You sip your drink, pointing at him. “We’ll hear someone who needs help on the way and you’ll drop my extended editions to save them.” 
“I won’t drop anything,” he says. “Come on! Come on, if you’re this excited just talking about it I wanna see how pretty you are when we’re actually watching the movies.” 
You press your smile into a line. “You’re not just humouring me?” 
“I could listen to you talk for hours, baby, but you sound like you did the second time we got off of The Cyclone.” 
You do a spinning, meandering dance into his arms. “If you insist.” 
Your feigned reluctance is adorable. He grabs you in both hands for another misaligned kiss.
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eternally-racing · 10 months ago
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slip | lando norris
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genre: angst + fluff
wc: 1k
warnings: none, there's maybe like 1 swear I think
summary: on a tough race weekend in qatar, you want to be there for Lando
-----
“What went wrong today in the car Lando?” 
You watch your boyfriend on your TV screen as your heart sinks when he says “Nothing, just a lack of talent”.  You know it had been a tough string of races for your blue-eyed boy, and this definitely wasn’t the first and would not be the last time that this happened, but you could tell something about this was really getting into Lando’s head.
I’m sorry about today, Lan. Give me a call whenever and we can chat <3 
You sigh as the message only tacks onto the last 3 unanswered messages you’ve sent to him. It’s not intentionally malicious, it never is with him. For so long Lando felt alone in the karting world that he got in the habit of getting in his head over a race weekend, and even with all the work you two have put into your relationship, sometimes he slips right back into those bad habits on those hard days. This wasn’t something you were going to let your boyfriend go through alone though, and that meant calling in some reinforcements. 
"Congrats on the first win Osc!"
“Thanks Y/N :) I know that’s not why you’re reaching out though…” 
Classic Oscar, you chuckle to yourself. He really is wise beyond his years. If anyone would be able to help you help Lando, you would hope that it would be his teammate. 
“It’s bad with him right now, isn’t it?” 
It’s a rhetorical question, but it still offers a glimmer of hope that maybe you’re being the overdramatic girlfriend and Lando’s actually fine. Unfortunately, that couldn’t be further from the truth when Oscar messages you back. 
“It’s really bad, Y/N. None of us know what to do. We need your help” 
That’s all the information you need before you’re setting your master plan into motion. You’re stuffing clothes into a duffle bag, calling in sick to work, and booking a plane ticket to head to Qatar yourself. There was only one moment of hesitation in the airport of “what the hell am I doing” before you look down at your lock screen of a smiley Lando out in the water in Bali. You wanted to bring that smile back so badly, and you hoped that this would be able to do that. Oscar is gracious enough to help you out with all the details of the team’s schedule for the weekend and the details of their hotel, but once you’re standing in front of Lando’s door the reality of the situation really hits you. You’ve come off nearly 12 hours of travel in one of Lando’s old sweatshirts and a pair of leggings, you haven’t looked in a mirror in equally as long which cannot be a good sign, and most of all you have no idea what you’re going to say to him once you see him. It had been a dream of yours to surprise Lando on a race weekend before - you had always imagined hiding in the driver’s room before FP1 and maybe pulling a cheeky prank or two when Lando showed up, but you had never prepared yourself for something like this. 
The key card to Lando’s room lays heavy in your hand, but you want to see if Lando will just open the door for you instead. The sound of your three quiet knocks on his door seem to fill the empty hallway, but you don’t hear any shuffling inside. 
“Hey Lan, it’s me.” are the only words you muster before you hear a clatter from inside. Your heart races as you can hear the click of the lock on the door. It’s truly like a scene in a movie, like time has slowed down for just the two of you. Lando rubs at his eyes like he’s seen a ghost, and it’s only when you reach out to touch his cheek does Lando realize that holy shit, you’re really here. He pulls you into his arms so tight that you feel like you can barely breathe and that’s when you hear it. Lando’s not just crying, he’s sobbing into your arms. The dam had finally broken and Lando had someone he could share his burdens with. You’re not sure how long you two stay there like that, Lando’s tears wetting the shoulder of your sweatshirt, you rubbing his back while whispering sweet nothings to him. Your boyfriend clings to you like he’s afraid that you’ll disappear if he lets go, and there’s now a comfortable air between you both. Once you finally pull away and can get a good glimpse at each other, it really sinks in for you that Lando is finally in front of you. While the point of this trip was of course to support your boyfriend, you couldn’t deny that having a long distance relationship for so long had taken a toll on you as well and you were thrilled to finally see him again, regardless of the circumstances. 
“Wow Y/N, you look…” 
You chuckle and finish Lando’s sentence off for him. “Like garbage I think are the words you’re looking for, Lan” you say as you pick off a piece of cat hair from your sweatshirt that only serves to further prove your point. 
“Beautiful, I was gonna say beautiful” Lando says softly, “but honestly I look like a hot mess right now so maybe we’d make a more perfect pair if we go with your description”. He gives you that cheeky smile that you’ve missed so much as he finishes his sentences, and before you know it you’re both giggling like teenagers together. For a moment it feels like you’re just regular Lando and Y/N on the couch back in Lando’s apartment fighting over what movie to watch on Netflix, not like you’re both in the middle of one of the most stressful race weekends of Lando’s career so far. 
The rest of the evening is filled with comfort and joy, and when Lando drives to P3 all the way from starting in P10 tomorrow, you’re the first person that Lando searches for in the crowd. A “thank you” is all that he musters out while you’re in his arms, but you can see from his eyes that he means so much more than that.
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changbunnies · 9 months ago
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One & Only (18+)
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♡ Pairing: Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader
♡ Genre: fluff, smut, pre-established relationship, some light plot to establish the setting, college au but it's a background detail
♡ Word Count: 4.6k
♡ Summary: Following a perfect Valentine's Day date, you decide you're ready for the next step in your relationship with Chan. You want him, and you know he wants you- and the only thing left to do is tell him exactly how you feel.
♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): petnames (pretty, baby) corruption kink, virgin + inexperienced reader, mutual masturbation, fingering (f rec), handjob
♡ Notes: i wanted to upload something short (compared to what i usually write anyways) for valentines day and i’ve been wanting to write corruption kink channie for a while now, so what better time to do it! i hope you enjoy <3
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
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You sighed as you flopped on the bed, freshly changed into your pajamas- next to you lies Chan, your best friend and roommate turned boyfriend, easily the love of your life, and you nervously chew your bottom lip, faced with the choice of what to do next now that your first Valentine's Day as a couple had come to an end. Returning to your shared apartment, nerves rattling away at you as you changed out of your prettiest, formal dress and now on the bed, trying your best not to overthink your situation. 
If you were being blunt and honest, you just really wanted to have sex with him- or at least take the next step in that direction. But the thought of it was utterly nerve wracking; every time he looked at you with his handsome, dimpled smile and pretty brown eyes, and you pictured seeing that same expression while he was hovering over you in your newly shared bed, it made your heart race out of control.
After an awkward, impromptu confession that led to you becoming a couple, the two of you slowly began sharing your space, until one day you stopped going back forth between bedrooms and decided to just share one. You chose your room to share in the end- Chan, the gentleman that he is, let you have the larger room when you moved into this apartment as roommates, and it was the natural choice when deciding which of you would be moving their belongings into the other room. And it was nice, exciting even, to help Chan move his belongings into your space until it became not justs yours but his too. 
But lately, sharing a bedroom served a problem- now that you slept in the same bed every night, you were becoming increasingly more aware of how badly you want him. And thanks to being friends and roommates before you were together, you knew had experience- experience that you felt you were sorely lacking. And it's not like you ever felt shame over the fact that you were still a virgin in college (as it's much more realistic than tv shows and movies would lead you to believe) but somewhere deep down you worried your lack of experience would make things awkward and unenjoyable.
That awareness of experience was equal, because in turn Chan was well aware of your sexual history (or lack thereof). You knew he wouldn't judge you, he would never be anything but kind and considerate, but it was hard to prevent self doubt from digging its claws into your embarrassingly fragile heart. You knew it was silly to feel this way knowing all that you do about Chan's character and his care for you that extends beyond titles of friend or girlfriend, but your nerves ate away at you regardless.
You kissed people before Chan, and that was unfortunately the extent of your prior experience. Your kisses were shared with fleeting crushes in high school, inside the confines of short lived relationships that never made it past first base. You didn't mind at the time- you weren't ready for more then, and you weren't going to compromise on sex just to keep a relationship going. But now here you were, an adult with little to no experience; and now that you were ready you were plagued by the idea that all of the awkwardness and exploration you could've gotten past in your adolescence will now be Chan's burden.
He wouldn't actually view it as such, you knew for a complete fact that he wouldn't- but the thing about self doubt is that logical thought does little to prevent it from taking root. And you felt terrible because Chan noticed you were feeling off since coming back to the apartment following your date; of course he did, he always noticed when you weren't acting like your usual self. You had such a perfect date together and now you were ruining it with your virginal rumination.
"What's on your mind, pretty?" Chan asks as he tucks the fallen hair behind your ears, the beautiful necklace he gifted you as your date came to a close perfectly adorning your neck. A silver locket in the shape of a heart, with dainty gems accented into the patterned engraving, which you opened to find a picture of the two of you after your first date. It was so perfect that you were speechless, and he admitted it took him months of saving to afford it (which was why your Christmas gift was something much less expensive in comparison and instead purely sentimental.)
"I-I'm sorry, I just.." you swallowed as you looked at him, your heart squeezing both from your nerves and from just how soft his expression is. "I was just thinking.. that I want to do more than just.. makeout, y'know..?"" You try your best not to blush from the admission, especially not when he starts smiling at you, but you can't stop your face from burning, and you turn your gaze away from his eyes, embarrassment taking its hold.
"Baby, look at me," he speaks softly but you can hear the smile in his voice before you even meet his gaze again to see it. It's a gentle smile that relays sweetness and care, but there's an underlying excitement beneath; because while he would never do anything to rush or pressure you along, he obviously wants more too. You're gorgeous, his best friend, his dream girl- of course he wants you. "You sure? I know it's a special day but we don't have to rush it or anything. I've already got the perfect gift."
You smile- timidly, but genuinely. He's so impossibly sweet, always; it's one of the main reasons why you fell for him in the first place. "Yeah, I'm sure- and I promise it's not just because it's Valentine's Day. I've been thinking about it, and I really want to, I'm just.. nervous is all. I've never.. you know.." You hesitantly meet his stare, your hand now nervously and unconsciously fiddling with the locket he gifted you that hangs from your neck.
It’s unceremonious the way his cock starts to throb from your timid words alone, almost shameful. He doesn't even know how much further than making out you're even going to go, but his body reacts regardless, independently from his brain that recognizes your need for slow, careful affection. There’s a million things he wants to say- “we’ll go slow” or “I’ll take care of you” or even “I love you” but his brain practically short circuits when you lift yourself from the pillows, locket dangling as you come closer to him, leaning down to press your lips to his. 
A moment of confidence? Or maybe you already knew all the things he’d say and didn’t need to hear them? You’re not entirely atop him- that’s still a step too far in uncharted territory, but this at least.. Kissing him is something you can do without getting in your own head about experience and desirability. His fingers rest behind your ear, his thumb stroking your cheek as he kisses you- softly and slowly at first, the way he always does. It’s always a build up, his lips taking their time, his every caress careful but deliberate. 
He always makes your heart race when he kisses you, makes your stomach do somersaults and blood run hot. Nerves aside, it’s undeniable how much you want him. One hand on his chest and the other in his hair, he’s careful when sits up from the bed to adjust your positions, conscious to not cause you to remove your hands from his body as you move in tandem with him. You let him lay you back down, catching just a glimpse of him hovering over you before your eyes are closing again as he kisses you. When his tongue licks your lips, you open your mouth to him without so much as a thought- it’s automatic, innate the way you welcome him into you. 
It always makes you dizzy, the way Chan’s tongue dances around yours, swirling and building the excitement from deep within your gut to new heights you didn’t know possible. This time however, there’s an added desire, his kisses and gentle touches more impassioned with the promise that you’ll be giving him more; more skin to kiss and touch, to feel under his calloused fingertips, to admire and love and venerate. You’re all he wants, all he’s ever wanted, really; and he wants you to know, desperately wants to show you how much he desires you. 
One arm holds his weight up while the hand on your face starts to trail away, fingers tracing the skin it travels over. Careful, slow, deliberate- it’s foreign but comfortable, somehow. When he hesitates, you affirm, you chase his touch, you pull him back, you silently plead with desperate eyes and eager breaths. Your face grows hot when your shirt comes off, his gaze hungrier when met with the sight of your bare chest, nipples hardened more so from the building anticipation than from the cool air. 
He wants to dote on you- call you cute, caress your burning cheeks, kiss the blush on your face and feel the heat of it on his lips. So he does, slowly so as to not overwhelm you, word choice careful as to not embarrass you. Your cheeks burn brighter, but you smile; a cute, shy one that his cock reacts to in equal measure to his heart. Pretty, beautiful, cute, he says it all as he starts to trail his kisses around the shell of your ear and to your neck. 
And you’re shy, impossibly so, but you indulge in the affection, as happy as you are timid and out of your depth. You can count on a single hand the amount of times he started kissing your neck during a makeout session, and you were always left wanting more but were much too sheepish to admit your building desire. But after that first time, when you were in the bathroom that night and saw the trail of small, just barely visible bruises left behind on your neck, you knew- you wanted more, and he was being considerate, holding back for your sake. 
You didn’t need that anymore, nor did you want him to- don’t hold back, don’t hesitate, leave your mark for all to see, touch and kiss and suck wherever you want. That’s what you want to tell him, but it’s hard to formulate that thought into words when the feeling of his lips on your neck and fingers ghosting over your nipples makes your brain grow fuzzy. He’ll get the hint though, you think, when you tilt your head to the side to allow him easier access to your skin and a whine leaves your lips. 
He can feel your body tremble, can hear and feel your breath hitch when his attention to your skin grows in intensity. Harsher sucks to your pulse point, more deliberate rubs of your nipples between his fingers- still careful, but no longer entirely delicate, as if you’re made of porcelain. No, his touches are now firmer, with more purpose and intention, more confidence now that it’s clear your admission of wanting more was not something said just to appease his growing desire to have you. 
He throbs when he pulls back to look at you; face flushed, skin varying in shades of pink and red, breath a near pant, hair fanned out and growing messy, the locket he gave you still staring back at him in the middle of it all. His fingers trail over it and you watch him carefully, trying to gauge what he’s feeling. “Should I take it off..?” you ask, wondering if it’ll get in the way somehow and he quickly shakes his head, leaning back down to you, his lips just barely touching yours. 
“Fuck no, leave it on. I love seeing it on you like this. Like-” he stops a moment, carefully considering if what he’s going to say will scare you off. But fuck it, you’re all being honest tonight, right? So why shouldn’t he say what he’s really thinking? “Like you’re mine. All mine,” he finally says, and though shy, you smile as you expertly play into it, feeding his fantasies. “I am yours Channie, I’m always yours.” Oh, you really have him now (as if he wasn’t already impossibly yours to begin with- you don’t even know the depth of his belonging to you.) 
Chan thought about you like this so many times- for years if he's being honest. He always felt guilty; the way he fantasized about you, his best friend for all his formative years and then his roommate, spread out for him and crying his name, clutching him so tightly that your nails dig into his skin. He just couldn't control it, and even his dreams, which were once innocent in nature (if you could believe it), you were there, whimpering on his cock, back arching as hushed whispers of praise were spoken into your ears, your eyes rolling back and drool escaping the corner of your parted lips. 
He wanted you, fuck, he wanted you, always have and he’s sure he always will. A single kiss and then he’s pulling back again, his hands trailing just over the hem of your pajama shorts. You unconsciously hold your breath, and maybe it’s his ability to read the nerves all over your expression that lead him to hesitate, capturing your gaze with sweet consideration despite how much he yearns to see all of you. “Nervous?” he asks and you nod, thankful when he kisses away the tension building in your body. 
“It’s okay if you’re not ready for that yet,” he reassures you, taking his hands away from your hips and instead moving them up to your waist, where he knows you’re comfortable with his touch. “I-I am, I want to, I promise! It’s just..” you trail off, and Chan offers you a sweet smile, stroking your cheek as you once again fumble nervously with the locket on your neck. “It’s a lot, I know,” he finishes for you, and you’re relieved he understands (not that you even suspected otherwise- he’s always been the sweetest guy you know.) 
He returns to kissing you softly and sweetly, his hands exploring the regions he knows you to be ready for, never wandering too far below your stomach. When he pulls away, your curiosity gets the better of you- you look where he rests between your legs, his erection noticeably straining in his sweatpants, a wet patch of what can only be pre-cum darkening the gray fabric. While you feel shy looking at it, Chan seems to welcome the curiosity, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Want to see it?” he asks and you gulp, tearing your eyes away to look back at his face. “Y-Yeah, can I..?” 
“Course, baby,” he replies easily, his smile growing ever so slightly as he straightens up to remove his pants. You swallow, blush flaring as you watch him slide his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. Rather than returning to his spot between your legs, he settles next to you, sitting up against the headboard and making himself comfortable. Chan looks at you, watching as your eyes travel and drink him in; you take notice of how his cock twitches as you stare, how pre-cum steadily drips from the tip, how prominently his vein runs down the length of it.
You're not sure what words are appropriate when it comes to describing your feelings towards seeing him bare, but you know you like it- you really like it. Your gaze makes him throb- desire, need, love, all wrapped together with a pretty ribbon of innocence and purity. He's being patient, but fuck, he wants to ruin you, wants to see your eyes well with pretty tears and body painted with ropes of his cum. "Do you want to touch it?" he asks, hopeful and raging with want- for you, your touch, your kiss, your pleasured voice, everything.
"Y-Yes, but.. I don't know how to.. how do I make you feel good..?" you ask with the cutest pout he's ever seen, and he truly feels like his heart is getting struck by lightning; you're going to drive him insane with need before the night is over. "I can show you," he offers, smiling when you quickly nod. You're amazed by how confidently he takes it in his hand, not a single ounce of shyness to be found in his actions, unlike you; you wonder if you'll ever be the same- able to act without timid embarrassment eating away at you.
Even compared to his large hands, Chan's cock appears impossibly thick, and you swallow as you watch him collect pre-cum from the head before he spreads it down the entirety of his length. His fingers trace the vein before he takes it fully in his hand, his gaze entirely fixed on your face as he starts to slowly pump himself. You swallow, completely mesmerized, the butterflies in your stomach thrashing violently. You look back up to his face when you hear his breath shudder, blush growing with the realization that your stare had an effect on him.
When Chan lets himself look away from your face, he notices the way your thighs press together, how you squirm in place as you watch him, yearning for touch- and it gives him an idea. "Can I-" he exhales a shaky breath, fisting his cock just the slightest bit faster when you meet his gaze again, "Can I see how you make yourself feel good too? Can you show me?" Your face burns hotter, your legs pressing harder together as his question rings in your ears. You swallow, impossibly nervous but equally as excited, and you nod timidly after a few moments of careful consideration.
"Y-Yeah, okay," you mumble as you shift your position to get your pajamas and panties down your legs. You timidly watch his expression as you settle yourself across from him, aware enough that he should have a good view of everything (even if the action of spreading your legs for him makes you want to cover your face in embarrassment.) Chan exhales another breath as he tightens his grip on his cock, licking his lips when he sees just how wet you are. You're dripping and it's all for him, because of him- finally, his dreams become realized.
Similarly to what he did to himself, you rub your fingers up and down between your folds, gathering the arousal on your fingers before you bring them to your aching clit. You bite your lip, shy as ever and embarrassed by the noises that leave you. You close your eyes in an effort to ebb away the shyness and focus on the pleasure, but you're still starkly aware of his presence, of his eyes watching your every move. You can hear his low groans and harsh breaths, can hear the sound of his fist pumping faster when you let out another whimper between your bitten lip.
It astounds you how something this embarrassing can also be so arousing- you don't think you've ever been more excited than you are now, and the mess between your thighs and under your ass is definitely a testament to that. As the moment continues, with you timidly opening your eyes to watch him again, he doesn't fail to notice that you focus entirely on your clit, so he has to ask- "Do you ever- fuck- put your fingers inside?"
God, as if your face isn't already hot enough- but it's a fair question, and you answer as best you can between the noises you fail to keep internal. "S-Sometimes, but- it's- I don't-" you try, though you fail to formulate the words you wish to say; partly due to pleasure fogging your brain, and partly due to not even knowing how to phrase your thoughts the best in the first place. "It's hard? Doesn't feel as good?" Chan takes an educated guess, and you nod, relieved he found the words for you.
He understands- your fingers are dainty, and it must be hard trying to get them angled deep, hard to find the spot that makes you see stars when you have to contort your body to barely comfortable positions. "If you want- if you're comfortable, I can.. do it for you..? Help you?" Oh. If you're being honest, you've thought about how good his fingers must feel so many nights while touching yourself, wondering about how good they'd make you feel, how expertly they'd make you cum. "R-Really? You want to?" you ask- perhaps a stupid question, but there's still a part of you that can't even believe he's attracted to you, even this far into your relationship.
"God, yes, isn't it obvious? C'mere, baby," Chan beckons you back to him, and you oblige. You crawl your way back to your spot next to him, sitting on your knees but with your legs still spread apart. He takes his dominant hand off his cock, bringing it instead between your legs, slowly rubbing and getting his fingers wet enough to slide easily inside. His opposite hand resumes the motion on his cock, and you unconsciously tremble- both because of the hand between your legs, and because the sight before you is so fucking hot (to put it bluntly.)
"You're so fucking sexy," Chan utters, starting with just one finger, pressing it inside slowly, and your reaction is immediate- body shuddering as a gasp escapes you, biting your lip as he pumps his finger slowly, ensuring you're comfortable and adjusted before he adds another. "Pretty, so pretty," he continues, the tips of fingers rub your deepest parts with hardly any effort on his part, and when he finds your sensitive spot you positively jolt, every nerve constricting as if thrown in an ice bath, body tense, stomach clenching as the pleasure builds.
"My gorgeous fucking baby- feels good, doesn't it?" he asks, a theoretical question with no expected answer, but you're whining and nodding your head, your hips acting independently of the rest of you, rolling and bouncing and chasing every ounce of pleasure that can be derived from Chan's fingers. He presses his thumb to your clit, simply keeping pressure there as the motion of riding his fingers provides all the friction you need.
"C-Channie, feels so good, think I'm gonna-" before you can finish voicing the words, you're gasping and crying out. You're hot, your dripping with sweat, you're utterly floating as you're hit with wave after wave of explosive pleasure. He doesn't dare remove his fingers until you've finished riding it out, but to his surprise, you grab his wrist when he starts to pull his hand away, your eyes glassy and pleading.
"More? Please, more?" you ask so sweetly, and again he throbs, licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you- debauched, dewy, and flushed, world shattered in the best way possible. "Yeah baby, I can give you more. Course I can," Chan says before he's thrusting his fingers inside as if there was never a pause. Your eyes roll back as you bite your lip, your grip on his wrist tightening as you grind down against his fingers, always meeting them halfway.
When you open your eyes to look at him again, you can't help but notice that the pace of the hand on his cock is sloppy and uneven, and while you doubt you'll fare much better, you decide to take over for him, to try to please him just as much as he has you. You hear him utter a quiet curse as he takes his hand away, letting you replace it with your own. It's a sight, a feeling, that he wants engraved in his memory- you, riding his fingers while your hand desperately pumps his cock, giving him your best effort and trying your hardest to make him cum despite how much your arousal fills your brain with fluff.
"Fuck, baby-" he groans, reaching his hand out to the nape of your neck, pulling you down to capture your lips in a kiss, his tongue shoving it's way in your mouth before you can even process that your lips are touching. His hips buck when your thumb glides over the tip, sensitive and leaking, your soft hands sticky and wet and perfect. You hold his gaze when the kiss breaks, all your shy tendencies and thoughts of embarrassment seeming to fade to the very back of your mind, replaced entirely by desire and need- not just to cum again, which you unmistakably want, but to watch Chan cum too, to watch him fall apart and know that it was all thanks to you.
The room is filled with the slick sounds of your hands working each other, of heavy, panting breaths, of low groans from Chan and barely restrained, quiet whimpers from you, a sinful symphony played exclusively for your own ears. "Oh fuck, fuck-" he grits out, clenching his jaw and brows knitting together as he tries to stave his orgasm off long enough to watch you fall apart again first.
You can feel his vein pulsing beneath your fingers, can feel him twitch and throb, and there's a sense of pride you've never felt before that comes with it- it doesn't just feel good to cum, you realize, it feels good to watch your lover cum too, to be the reason they're losing composure and falling apart. "Y-You're close, Channie? Gonna cum?" He groans as he nods, licking his drying lips as his head falls back, unsure if he can hold it back much longer than he already has.
"Yeah baby, gonna- gonna cum for you, fuck-," Chan, who knows it's only a matter of seconds before he has no choice but to let go, mercilessly targets your sweet spot, his fingers all but drilling into it as his thumb rubs messy circles on your clit. Your hips stutter before your body seizes with overwhelming pleasure, the pace of your hand on Chan's cock faltering as your eyes roll back and you surrender yourself to the blissful sensation washing over you.
Chan follows quickly, the sight of you cumming again on his fingers breaking the already impossibly thin line holding him together, hot cum shooting out and spilling on his chest and stomach. You collapse next to him, legs aching (your knees especially) and body utterly exhausted. Your shyness returns when he turns his head to look at you with a sweet smile on his lips, and you blush as you return the smile.
You're both messy, in desperate need of a shower and a change of bedsheets before you actually sleep, but you bask in the moment regardless. He reaches for a tissue on the nightstand to clean the cum off his stomach before it dries and becomes a pain to wash off, and the moment it's done you're back in his arms, being hugged tight with kisses pressed to your forehead, your warm cheeks, and then your lips.
You curl into him, one of your hands holding the locket as you return his affection, pouring all your unspoken love and affection into the kiss you share. Your first Valentine's Day of hopefully a lifetime more, your joy immeasurable, your love boundless; a perfect day with an equally perfect end. You tell him you love him as he helps you clean up in the shower, he tells you he loves you as he helps you get dressed before he dresses himself, you share “i love you”s as you relax into each other in bed. You sleep, happy and warm and loved, secure in the knowledge that truly, this is only the beginning, and there’s still years worth of experiences left to share.
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