#like the end result would be messy as fuck but in a loving way

[necrotic-nephilim]

for the ask game (3)

au where all robins develop a mental link after fighting some magical criminal of the week. what would they see in each other's minds? what secrets and repressed feelings do they discover? how would they deal with it?

for the ask game!

oooh, i love telepathic links that end up revealing secrets. especially with a family like the Batfam, who are usually so convinced they're good enough at reading each other to not have many secrets kept. so weird reveals are always fun

if i did this, i'd do DamiTim. just because of all the like, "deep dark feelings that are being hidden" for Robin shipping, DamiTim is the most fun for me. you expect DickTim or DickJay or JayTim, even DamiDick. but there's something that's so enjoyable about Damian having his feelings forcibly outted. not just to Tim, but to everyone. the way it'd be an active landmine none of them knowing what to say but all feeling each other's reactions. i honestly think Damian would try to punch somebody about it. (also, if you do a history of TImSteph where they've had sex, Damian would be directly linked to Steph's memories of how Tim was in bed, so that's fun as both something horrifying and enlightening just to screw with his feelings some more.) would they end up together? in my head probably, but it'd be weird and likely toxic bc how do you date someone you know inside out and know exactly what they think of all your flaws and what parts of you they obsess over. the answer is not very well but hey, the sex is good-

i think Jason *directly* feeling how everyone felt about his death would really rock him. he's heard all the apologies, but part of him isn't convinced there's truth to them. so to be crushed by Dick's *grief* over his death would be a come to jesus moment for him. but on the less fun flipside, you have him feeling how Dick feels about him *now*. because Dick doesn't really *like* Jason and deep down, sees Jason as a lost cause. that's his "deep dark secret". and Jason would feel and know that from the one person who he still wants to believe in him. i really do think Jason would have the Worst Time with all this, overwhelmed with everyone's intimate and complex feelings over his death. Jason is a very defensive person when it comes to his death and how reactionary he gets when other people make it about them, not him. so for Jason to have to constantly deal with that in his head, i truly do think he'd lash out a bit. the arguments. yelling at Dick and feeling Dick's guilt and snapping bc Dick has no right to feel guilty now. feeling that Tim viewed Jason as a failure. it's just a damaging mindspace to be in and man do i think Jason would take a While to recover.

oddly though, i think it'd be a good bonding moment for Steph and Jason. we really don't get much exploration of Steph and Jason bonding over dying. bc sure, Steph didn't actually die, but she *did* experience the social death where everyone believed she was dead and mourned her as such for a good while. she also felt *directly* responsible for her own death. a lot of blame falls on Steph for War Games (for the Doylist reasons of sexism but yk) and Jason feels responsible for his own death for walking into a trap. but unlike Jason, Steph had no suit in a case, no memorials, her name held no infamy. so i think she deserves just a bit of righteous fury about how dramatic Jason can be while she just has to move on bc hey, it's not like she *really* died. and she buries those feelings well, but not well enough to hide them from a mental link. and Jason, who hasn't really considered Steph before because he was so wrapped up in his complex over Tim, confronts those feelings with her. if anyone is going to know how he feels, it's going to be her. you could do it platonic or romantic, but i do think when Jason sinks to his lowest, she's the one who snaps him out of it, both with tough love and genuine compassion for his situation.

for the less serious crack of it all: they're all going to have far too intimate knowledge of each other's sex lives. everyone's gonna know Dick has fucked Slade. everyone's gonna know Jason has fucked Talia. in my heart, i believe Tim has slept with Anarky (Lonnie, not Ulysses) and everyone would *know* that too. absolute judgment all around. it's the spider-man meme of "wait you've done WHAT with WHO" and honestly, it gives a nice distraction for the more serious feelings. it's a palette cleanser they can default to. like when the fighting gets a little too serious and they're cutting too deep for comfort, someone's going to blurt out "well at least i didn't fuck Deathstroke." and the whole moment goes awry with laughter. bc i do think, at the end of it once they get through the worst of the angst, they'd be closer for it and self-aware of the ridiculous nature of all this. it's enlightening, in a way to see how they all felt about their time as Robin and the baggage/trauma they hold. even the ugliest feelings they hold for each other don't completely suffocate the fondness/respect.

that said, knowing the baggage/trauma. oof. i don't think Dick has ever fully opened up about his history with Mirage/Tarantula/Liu and now it's forced to sit in the open. Damian has never admitted the worst of being raised in the League. Tim hasn't fully faced the suffocating image of his dead father and his deep-seated want to kill Boomerang. all those ugly truths they stamp down bc well, either you're a vigilante or you're a well adjusted person, are out in the open now. and it's ugly and gruesome to force those thoughts to be shared. they all want to comfort each other for different reasons, while simultaneously not wanting their own trauma to be acknowledged. it'd be fun to see who'd instinctively react to whose trauma first. because it's an overwhelming rush of information, and you just naturally get pulled in certain directions. i think Damian would react to Dick's history of sexual abuse first, whereas Jason would be reacting to the murderous rage TIm is trying to fight off. Tim is reacting to just how much guilt Steph carries about War Games and all of it is very crunchy. there's so much they'd all have to talk about and it'd take days for them to address it all, between the arguments about the ugly parts. would they come out stronger for it? yes. but only if they didn't kill each other in the process. i hesitate to do a "and they come out one big happy family" ending, bc it's not very in canon, but i do think the bond of the Robin mantle is something special. even when the link is broken, they hold onto a freakish understanding of each other. they react and move in sync, can fight together without needing words. are they emotionally on the same page/have they forgiven each other for the worst of it? absolutely not. but they've got each other backs. it's a very much "if you called i'd drop everything to save you. but also we don't have it in us to hang out casually." bond, which i think is deeply underrated in fanfiction. sometimes, you can care about people but you have to do it from a distance.

[steakout-05]

for months now i have had this little story idea bouncing around in my head for an AU of Jetpack Joyride where Barry is stuck inside a big expermental time loop conducted by Legitimate Research to create an army of randomly selected time-travelling soldiers. the idea is very much still rough and i dunno if and when i'll develop it into a bigger thing, but it's a pretty cool idea and it's a twist on the JJ game that i've never really seen much exploration on.

basically, it focuses on Barry, who is the sort of Patient Zero of an experimental concentrated time-fuckery technology LR is working on. every single day, at exactly the same time, Barry goes out to work his salesman job, discovers the jetpack, breaks into the laboratory, takes it for a joyride, eventually gets hit by an obstacle and dies. the next day, Barry goes out to work his salesman job, discovers the jetpack, breaks into the lab, takes it for a joyride and dies. and he does the same exact thing the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day... he's pretty much stuck in a loop of the exact same events happening repeatedly every single day, and he has absolutely no idea about it. that is, until there's a glitch in the system, and Barry progressively becomes a lot more suspicious and paranoid about the situation he's in. the rest of this post is gonna be REALLY spoilery (like i literally just explain big important chunks of the story for several paragraphs) if i ever make this into a full-fledged fanfic, so i'm gonna put it under a keep reading thingy. also it is... quite long and convoluted lol.

as the story goes on, it focuses more on the mental degredation of Barry as he starts uncovering all these weird clues, slowly trying to piece together what's going on and driving himself insane, because every time a reset occurs, his memory of the previous loop ever happening is completely wiped and everything he did that day goes all the way back to square one. since the malfunctioning of LR's technology though, Barry has been getting little nuggets of deja vu and half-remembered fragments of dying before a reset. this eventually becomes him repeating things to himself, little phrases and codes over and over and over in hopes that it will persist into the next reset. this eventually becomes symbols stuck up on the walls of his room and then progresses to entire rituals to help him remember and little behaviourisms like tics and stims to let him know he's in another loop. he becomes more and more panicked and unsettled, paranoid that someone - or something - is watching him closely. additionally, he keeps having disturbing dreams in the early hours of the morning before he gets up to go to work, ones that are symbolic and prophetic, as if they're trying to warn him about something. i've had concepts of him waking up on top of a pile of millions of mangled carcasses that all look exactly like Barry, and having on them them forcefully grab onto his leg and pull him down with the rest of them. it's kinda like the nightmare Woody has in Toy Story 2, but like, dead guys everywhere, lol.

the backstory of this whole thing is kinda insane. basically, Legitimate Research is a sketchy government funded facility that's doing secret time experiments to create the strongest beings for a purpose that's somewhat similar to Brains' Zomb Bomb plan from AOZ (i haven't fully decided yet). Barry is someone who has been randomly selected for their newest version of the concentrated time loop experiment, where patients will be put under looping tests to extract data about their strength, agility and performance and decide what they need to supplement them with in order to create the perfect soldier.

Barry was 22 years old when he was selected. he was actually a relatively normal local Fish N' Chips vendor living in New South Wales, but one day, when he recieved an exciting letter in the mail about a new ambitious job opportunity, he completely disappeared without a trace and seemed to have been entirely erased from the minds of everyone he had ever known. Barry had actually been kidnapped and ensnared into a mind-experiments facility of the laboratory, where they proceeded to wipe his mind, proof of his existence and his entire personhood up to this point, and replaced all of it with fake memories to fill in the gaps. he was then placed in stasis and to be injected with high doses of strength drugs as they crafted a new life for him behind the scenes. a new house, in a new state, all with new stories and memorabilia meant to be lived out by new person. now, he was Barry Steakfries in Queensland, a rough-around-the-edges guy with a passion for action movies and destruction. he was a revel with a thirst for chaos and freedom, but he just didn't have the means to achieve it yet. it was all according to plan.

a big part of the story i want to tell that involves him is that at some point, Barry tries to break free from the time loop by doing something different. this takes a lot of pre-planning, memory rituals and repeating details to himself, but after he wakes up from a reset and gets out of bed, he hesitates, choosing to go to a different place to sell his gramophones that day. he deliberately tries his best to avoid Legitimate Research's headquarters as much as he can, and while he doesn't completely remember why he's doing it, he has a deep gut feeling that he should stay away from them at all costs. so he does. and at first, it goes well. the day is different, his choices seem to actually matter and for once, the feeling of deja vu isn't tearing him apart... until a crazy freak accident happens that forces Barry to die and reset the time loop again, wiping away everything he had done that day. Legitimate Research is now forcefully trying to stop him from knowing what the hell is going on by forcing him to die with each now discovery he makes, and Barry has to figure out more and more creative solutions to averting their surveillance and trying to get the hell out of the loop.

Craig will also be involved with the story too!! i'm not exactly sure what exactly the events leading up to Barry discovering and meeting him would be, but it'd be kinda halfway-late-ish into the story where Barry manages to cut off LR's surveillance of him, breaks into the laboratory and searches through its archives for anything relating to time. during this raid, he accidentally discovers the true Patient Zero to this time experiment: a broken, decrepit shell of a man who has been hooked up to a set of wires and locked away deep into the laboratory, never meant to be discovered by anyone, only known simply as #000 'Craig'. Craig was the very first human they used to run an early prototype of these experiments, but through malfunctions in the threads of LR's technology, he ended up knowing too much and tried to break free from his time loop, which resulted in him being dragged out of reality and becoming completely detached from his own time, stopping his aging process completely and practically allowing him to exist forever and persistently through every reset unaffected. LR relocated him and considered him a catastrophic failure, locking him away in a cell deep in the bowels of the laboratory before destroying and erasing every archive of him ever having existed in any point in time. and now, the same thing is about to happen to Barry if he doesn't figure out a way to stop what's happening quickly. Barry, outisde of LR, is the only one who is aware of Craig's existence in this timeline. Barry makes a vow to make sure that he will never ever forget Craig, no matter what happens to him, no matter how many times his timeline gets reset, because he is the only other person on the whole world who truly understands what he's going through.

at the very end of the story, when Barry finally escapes the time loop and is about to enter into a new reality where none of this ever happened, he reaches out a hand to Craig and offers he come with him to live. Craig, however, rejects the offer, sadly confessing to Barry that because of his disconect from the threads of time progression itself, Craig must stay behind and be erased along with everything inside this one and let Barry live his life. Barry protests, insisting that his life wouldn't be complete without him and that they've already gone through so much together, but Craig assures him that this is the best for the both of them, and that Barry must leave him soon before the window to escape closes. Barry gives Craig once last goodbye, holding him close and basking in his presence for the final time. he closes his eyes, presses his head against Craig's and whispers "I promise I'll never forget you." before he slowly lets him go, not breaking their locked gaze on each other for even a second as he steps into the portal and ventures into an entirely new reality, never to return.

i want there to be an epilogue part where Barry starts his new life and goes looking for a place to stay, and he comes across the place where LR used to be, which is instead occupied with a big square fence plot and a sign that says "UNDER CONSTRUCTION: NEW RESTAURANT TO BE BUILT". Barry stares at it for a moment and reflects on everything that has happened. all the hellish experiments that were once held inside this very plot of land, all the trauma he went through to get to this point, Craig's sacrifice, everything has lead up to him standing here, in the right place, at the right time, to finally live the life he should've had to begin with. eventually, he turns away, continuing to walk down the street. he should go check that place out sometime.

(insert "what a fucked up dream for a baby to have" ending from 'then what' here)

[niningtori]

for the hope of it all | part one

part two

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, choi soobin x you

summary: you've been in love with beomgyu since the first time you saw him, but he sees you as nothing more than a good friend and faithful wingwoman. when he asks you to help him catch another girl, who just so happens to be one of your closest friends, things get complicated.

genre: ANGST, melodrama, romance, smut (mdni)

warnings: super rushed to meet a deadline, not proofread, smut (mdni), beomgyu is a fucking asshole, manipulative!gyu, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (vaginal), dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 7.2k

notes: whew... i couldn't just post a fic based on a song called AUGUST after august ends (even tho there's only a few minutes left where i am idccc) anyway this isn't the best thing in the world but i still ask that u all don't be mean to me <3 feedback is appreciated n loved as well :)

beomgyu really likes her �� like, really— and who can blame him? you certainly can’t. chaewon is a lovely, lovely girl, so it should come as no surprise when beomgyu asks you to, in his words, help him bag her. you’re not one with a particularly strong character at the best of times, so when he practically begs you to convince one of your closest friends that he’s actually not the heartbreaking manwhore he definitely is, you can’t find it in yourself to say no.

it doesn't help that he has enough charisma to charm even the most indifferent target he sets his eyes on, it doesn't help that he's so handsome it makes everyone either want him or want to be him, and it most certainly doesn't help that you've been in love with the boy for the entire time that you've known him. him asking absolutely anything of you would result in you relenting, so when he asks for something as seemingly inconsequential as setting him up with a mutual friend, accepting it is a matter of course. does it hurt your heart to see him pining after someone else when you basically consider him as your soulmate? of course. but his happiness means more to you than your own. if she makes him happy, then so be it.

that's what you tell yourself, at least.

-

beomgyu doesn’t know that you love him — he can’t possibly know — or else he’d treat you differently, right? you don’t want that. you don’t want anything to change, at least not in the disastrous way you anticipate confessing your love to him would go, so you’ve kept your feelings close to your chest to keep him from suspecting anything. you think you’ve gotten pretty good at concealing your feelings. for example, you laugh when he tells you about his sexual escapades, and you don’t hesitate to give him advice on how to woo the girls who are wary of his lasciviousness. you only want to show him the good parts of you, carefully tucking any ugly seeds of jealousy or sadness away from his prying eyes.

the thing is, though, beomgyu is not stupid; and to your never-ending misery, you are not the greatest actress. he can see the crestfallen look on your face for the split second before you can contort your features into a smile. he can hear the tremble in your voice as you force out a laugh. with his godforsaken intuition, he can sense the hesitation in your movement when you playfully push him aside as he over-dramatically recounts his latest raunchy fuck. 

all of this has no discernible consequence, though. if anything, your feelings have been his faithful friend and ally when it comes to conspiring with you to land whatever girl piques his interest at the moment. you may not be a prospective partner, but you are a great wingwoman, he’ll give you that much. and that’s exactly what he needs when dealing with chaewon, who has proven to be a particularly tough nut to crack. he doesn’t usually go for people he would consider friends, if only because he doesn’t like dealing with the messy aftermath, but her refusal to look his way is just too entertaining. he has no earthly idea why this cat and mouse game intrigues him the way it does, but he’s hooked like none other, especially because her reasons for pulling away when she’s definitely as attracted to him as he is to her are unclear. maybe she just doesn’t want to seem easy? whatever it is, he likes it. he likes her.

-

“so what's the plan?” soobin asks. 

“what do you mean?” you blink as you turn towards him, effectively taken out of your daze. you've been staring at a new instagram picture of beomgyu for at least ten minutes now. there's not much going on in it — it's just a candid taehyun took of him — but you can't stop the yearning you feel in your heart as you wish you had been the one to take it, instead.

“i mean, what's your big plan to ‘help’ him this time?” there’s a trace of resentment in his tone as he puts air quotes around “help”. you know he thinks you're just wasting your time on a boy who will never feel the same way you do, but what can you do? you still love him.

“i’m… i’m just going to talk him up to chae, no big deal,” you say rather unconvincingly, because it is a big deal. it’s the biggest deal in the world to you.

“and what are you gonna say? ‘hey, i know you know beomgyu is garbage, but deep down, he’s actually not garbage even though, even deeper down, he really is?’” his words are sarcastic and, for lack of a better term, downright hateful. 

“he’s not garbage, binnie,” you chastise. “he’s actually really sweet once you get to know him.”

“sweet? sweet how, exactly?” he sneers. you just sigh and shake your head. beomgyu is a frequent point of contention in your friendship with soobin, but you don’t know how to overcome it. mostly, arguments surrounding him devolve into conversations like the one you’re having right now. 

“he puts on a tough act, but he’s not really like that on the inside,” you insist. “you just don’t know him like i do.”

“and thank god for that,” he snorts, and you frown. you can tell he feels guilty by the way his expression immediately softens. 

“hey, i’m sorry,” he says, tucking your hair behind your ear. “i just don’t like to see you hurting.”

“i’m not hurting,” you lie. “i’m totally fine. it’s just… i just want to see him happy.” you actually do mean that last part. beomgyu, though seemingly carefree, is actually a lot more insecure and sensitive than one might think. you know this because he’s shown you that side of him many, many times, which must mean that he trusts you like no one else. you are honored to be the one he feels comfortable with, and even if it never amounts to anything more than that, you’re thankful you get to see how he really is. 

“and you think being with a new girl every week will make him happy?” he softly asks, no edge to his voice, but his words hurt even more than they did before.

“it's different this time, binnie. i'm serious. i've never seen him like this before. i think he really likes her.” and the words almost kill you to say, but you mean them, anyway. 

“okay,” he relents. “just do what you want to do. i’ll be there for you no matter what.” 

“thank you,” you reply with a small smile, before putting your nose back into your phone and staring at beomgyu’s pictures again. you don’t catch it, but soobin sighs as he watches you. 

-

you’ve been trying really, really hard. usually, all you have to do is talk about good points about beomgyu, and women fall for it hook, line, and sinker. chaewon is not most women, though, and she makes that abundantly clear with the polite smiles and airy laughs she gives you when you try to bring up beomgyu. 

you don't get it. if you had beomgyu’s attention, you’d never let it go, so it makes no sense to you how someone could have it without taking the opportunity to seize it. if it were you, you’d seize it. if it were you, you'd tell him you’ve loved him since the first time you saw him. if it were you — well, it doesn't really matter, does it? because it isn't you. still, you can’t help but dream.

the sentiment that it will never be you becomes clearer and clearer as you watch beomgyu try to initiate conversation with chaewon at his very own house party you are currently attending. you watch from the sidelines as they sit uncomfortably close together, legs flush against one another, as beomgyu wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her in to whisper in her ear. you like to think you’re content with him being with her even if it means you’ll be without him, but it’s difficult to feel that way when you actually see it playing out before you. your heart feels like stone weighing heavily in your chest as she giggles at whatever he says, and you think that things might start looking up for him before her smile suddenly melts into a little frown. 

without warning, she pries his arm off of her and gives him a perfunctory smile before standing up and smoothing out her skirt. then, she grabs her drink from the coffee table and he's left alone. his previously delighted expression is now filled with irritation and disappointment. you're still staring at him, just trying to get a read on the situation as you're left reeling, and before you know it, he's looking up at you. you're a little embarrassed at being caught, but you realize you can play your intrigue off as objectively analyzing the situation in order to help him better. surely he’ll fall for that, right? every time you say something similar, he buys it with no further questions.

he makes eye contact with you then nods towards his room as a silent plea to talk to him in private. if someone were to ask you how you’re able to deduce all of that from one look alone, you’d probably say it’s because you know beomgyu like the back of your hand — and maybe you do, but it’s like a subconsciously trained reaction more than anything. just as you know what beomgyu will do next, he knows you’ll understand his seemingly innocuous gestures. 

you head up the stairs and beomgyu shuts his bedroom door behind you. you prepare to launch into your readymade explanation as to why you were rubbernecking earlier, but he speaks before you can say anything at all.

“why isn’t it working?” he huffs. “did you talk to her like i asked you to?”

“yes, of course i did!” you eagerly insist. you would never lie to beomgyu — well, not about this, at least. your secret feelings are another story. 

“then why does she keep rejecting me?” he huffs. you wish you could answer him. truly, you do. you scramble for the right words, but you sincerely can't wrap your head around her logic, or lack thereof. 

he’s still waiting for an answer, though, so you think back to the recent conversations you’ve had with soobin, and you realize there’s only one plausible conclusion. 

“she just doesn’t know you enough, beoms. if she knew how you really are and how much you like her, she wouldn't act this way; but honestly, she probably thinks you’re just messing with her,” you explain, and you hope beyond hope that he doesn’t take it the wrong way. you don’t want to hurt his feelings by suggesting that his (newly) former playboy ways could be ruining his chances with her.

beomgyu’s feelings, of course, are not hurt. in fact, he just feels more annoyed than anything else. it’s really fucking irritating how he can’t seem to get a read on her or her intentions. she likes him, he can definitely tell, so what’s the problem with him having a messy past? it’s clear that it doesn’t bother you. well, it does, but in a different way. you’d forgive his previous transgressions in a heartbeat if it meant that he’d look your way, so why can’t she be the same? but then, he supposes that comparing someone as lovesick as you are to a normal girl is a bit unfair. 

but why are you so lovesick? it’s obvious that he’s handsome and funny, so falling for him is only natural, but your devotion is on another level. not only that, but you’re devoted in spite of the fact that he clearly wants nothing to do with you. in all honesty, it’s almost like you love him even more when you see him chasing after somebody else... then suddenly, the solution is clear. he has to make her think he doesn’t want her; and the easiest way to do that is to pretend he’s interested in someone else. in the same vein, who better else to pretend with than one of chaewon’s closest friends? you’re absolutely perfect for the job.

beomgyu’s demeanor goes from irritated to self-satisfied, and it puzzles you to no end. maybe he figured out a way to show his true feelings for her? but then why is he looking at you with such intensity? he’s never looked at you this way in the many years that you’ve known him. wait, did he realize something?  please, god, don’t let that be the case. you really don’t think you can —

and your train of thought is stopped when beomgyu strides over to you and locks the door behind you. you look up at him with confusion in your eyes before you finally register what that intense gaze of his really is: predatory.

suddenly, his lips are on yours and you’re holding back a squeal. your eyes widen as he cups his big hands around your cheeks and pulls you in even closer. he tastes like alcohol, which is to be expected, but there's a certain uniqueness to his taste that you can't really put into words; and you’re able to taste it even more as his tongue enters your mouth. you groan at the action, and surprisingly, he does, too. 

you always assumed kissing beomgyu would make you feel like everything was finally right in the world, and it does — it really, sincerely does — but there’s also a certain spark you were not anticipating. something a lot more fiery, and it shoots straight to your core as your tongues tangle together lasciviously. beomgyu seems to know this, and he smirks into the kiss before trailing his warm mouth down your neck. you gasp at the sensation, which just makes him laugh. 

his hands have traveled from your cheeks to your chest, one staying there to grab at your tits while the other one carelessly finds its way up your skirt. 

“so wet,” he whispers in awe when he rubs his fingers against your soaked panties. “is this all because of me?” you feel your cheeks warm and you’re stammering out your next words.

“w-well, i —” 

“is this all because of me?” he repeats, and you give him a feeble nod before covering your face in shame.

“cute,” he snickers, and your previously warm cheeks are now scorching to the touch. 

he moves your panties to the side and rubs against your sensitive clit, which sends pulsations through your entire body, but that’s nothing in comparison to how you feel when he presses a finger into your dripping hole. 

“you’re so tight,” he whispers, lust clearly written all over his face at the prospect of being in your pussy relatively soon; but he wants to enjoy this, he wants to enjoy the way your face screws up as he presses his finger so deep, he’s hitting places previously untouched. he slowly pulls it out, grazing your most sensitive spot with ease before adding another digit in, making you almost groan from the stretch. you bite your lip to avoid making such a sound, but beomgyu pays your attempted discretion no mind as he starts to hammer his fingers into you at a brutal pace. 

it doesn’t take long for you to come undone around his skilled fingers, and once you’re done pulsating around him, he takes them out for a taste. 

“so good,” he remarks, and though your breathing is heavy and your eyes are hazy, you still have it in you to feel embarrassed. he takes your smaller hand in his and leads you to his messy bed, carelessly sweeping every loose item — a t-shirt here, an old cd there — off of it in one go. he lays you down and hungrily licks his lips once he strips you down until you’re fully unclothed. 

you’re feeling extremely small in this moment. you know beomgyu has had his pick of the litter when it comes to women, so you can’t help but wonder how you fare in comparison to the literal bombshells he’s been known to take home. mostly, though, you wonder how you compare to chaewon, as awful as that sounds. if you really think about it, there’s no comparison to be made, really. she’s her, and you’re you. what else is there to say, honestly? still, you’re comforted by the thought that you are the one underneath him right now, not her, and he does not seem disappointed in the slightest if the tent in his jeans means anything at all.

before you can think too much about it, he’s practically tearing his shirt off and you can’t help but stare. his torso is lean and a little paler than the rest of him, probably due to the lack of sun. objectively speaking, he’s no greek god or anything similar, but to you, he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. if he notices your awed reaction, he doesn’t say anything or really care, because he is simply too busy studying how perfect you seem to look under his dimmed lights. again, he is delighted at the prospect of being inside of you very soon.

he unzips his jeans and slides them, along with his boxers, off of his slim thighs and you can finally see him completely. his cock is a red so deep it’s nearly purple, with evidence of his lust leaking out of its flared tip. you’ve heard a lot about beomgyu’s physique from stories, his and his hookups’ alike, but nothing prepared you for the real thing. you’re not a virgin or anything, but you’re still unsure of how you’re meant to fit him inside of you. and you have no idea how you’re supposed to approach the subject. 

beomgyu does not seem to understand your internal battle, though, because he wastes no time in lining himself up with your entrance. before he pushes in, though, he drags his cock along your soaking wet seam just to coat himself in your slick. when he feels he can’t take any more of his own teasing, he begins to push in.

“j-jesus christ!” he exclaims as he tries to push his tip through your entrance. “are you a virgin or some shit?”

“nngh — n-no! i-i’m not. i’ve — mmh — i’ve had boyfriends before,” you say as best as you can while dealing with the feeling of him literally fucking you open. you’re worried he’s not enjoying himself in light of his outburst and his decidedly strained expression. 

“god, s-so tight,” he drawls. “feels so goddamn good.” he draws his hips back before pushing in again, further this time, and his words of praise seem to comfort you somehow, because he’s able to sheathe himself completely in you. 

he groans when he feels your gummy walls wildly contracting around him — unsure of what to do with the pleasurable intrusion and working tirelessly to simultaneously push him out and pull him in. you, on the other hand, feel nothing but full. you’re so full you ache, so after a few moments of adjusting, your watery eyes are filled with an insatiable sense of pleading. 

“you okay?” he asks, actually somewhat sweetly.

“y-yes — ah — i just feel w-weird,” you say. “feel so — fuck — full.” your seemingly innocent words drive him to the brink of insanity, so with reddened eyes, he grabs your hips so hard, you know he’ll leave marks in his wake, and without warning he begins drilling into you.

his thrusts are not calculated or intentional in any sense — they’re rough and fast and show his desperation. why he’s so desperate, he has no idea. beomgyu is sleazy even on a good day, so women come a dime a dozen, but he feels an unquenchable need he feels will only be satisfied if he continues to fuck you like a man gone mad. so he does.

your breasts bounce with every thrust and while he wants to grab one, his thirst only makes him want to go even deeper in you, so he employs his hands to manhandling you into a mating press. the new position has him going even deeper, and you can feel him hitting your cervix with each nasty snap of his hips. tears at the sheer feeling of being overwhelmed spring in your eyes and you have to clamp your hand over your lips to keep from crying out.

“let me hear you,” he pleads while gently moving your hand from your mouth and not-so-gently fucking you like a breeding whore, and he’s not sure if he’s saying it because he wants to make sure chaewon hears or just because he desperately wants to hear you for himself. 

“fuck!” you exclaim, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. “s-so big!”

“oh, sweetheart,” he rambles, “who were you fucking before? they didn’t deserve this tight little pussy. they didn’t fuck you like you deserve to be fucked — like a good little whore.” 

“‘m n-not a whore,” you tearily insist, somehow convinced that he means his words. you’re not completely inexperienced, but you’re not a whore, right?

but your innocence only makes him wanna ruin you more, claim you completely. 

“you’re taking cock so well, but you wanna tell me you’re not a whore?” he snickers meanly, and you feel so delirious, you find yourself agreeing with what he says. 

the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin and the sharp knocking of the headboard fill the room, and the heat you feel building up inside of you has you seeing stars. beomgyu pulls you in for a sloppy, wet kiss as he finally lets one of your legs down in order to snake his hand against your clit, which he languidly rolls in the midst of his pistoning in and out of you. 

“are you gonna come for me?” he asks as his lips part from yours. “are you gonna come all over my cock?” 

“y-yes, please,” you sob. “wanna come!”

“then do it, baby. let go for me,” and with the way he’s rolling your clit while fucking into you, you can’t help but comply.

he hisses when he feels you contracting around him, tightening up even more than before and pulling him in impossibly deeper. that’s all it takes, really, before he comes undone himself and sprays his thick, hot load into your spasming pussy. 

he collapses on top of you, and both of you take a few moments just to catch your breath before he pulls out of you with a wince. he’s absolutely enthralled by the way the mix of both of you two’s cum leaks out of you as soon as he does so. he’s almost tempted to swirl it back in and plug you up, but his rational side stops him before he can do anything he’ll regret. 

“are you on the pill?” he asks, and you nod.

“good, go ahead and get a plan b, too. just in case,” he says with a quick kiss to your forehead, and you nod with a delirious smile even in spite of his pedantic words. you’re just so happy you got to sleep with him, be closer to him.

“oh, i almost forgot to actually tell you,” he laughs. “i think fucking you will make chaewon jealous. i think we put on a pretty good show tonight, don’t you?” 

and your heart and your hope and your dignity shatter like nothing else. 

“y-yeah,” you try to reply with a laugh, but it sounds more forced than anything else you’ve ever heard in your life. “it was a really good show.”

-

“you slept with him?!” soobin asks, and he seems beyond frustrated. if you had the guts to look him in his eyes, though, you’d notice just how much hurt is in them. 

“y-yeah…” you mumble, face downcast.

“why? why would you do that? you’re just going to be even more hurt!” he exclaims, and you shrink into yourself even more, not out of fear, but out of pure shame. 

“i don’t know! it all just happened so fast, a-and i, i don’t know, i just couldn’t stop myself,” is all you manage to say. soobin groans at your words. 

“you do realize that getting over him is going to be even harder for you now, right?” he asks, and you finally look up at him for a second before looking back down and nodding, and it’s almost like you’re a child who got caught doing something they knew was wrong.

“i know, and i’m sorry,” you mutter, still struggling to make eye contact, but soobin catches your timidity and his gaze is softened as he pulls your face up to look at him. 

“you don’t have to apologize to me,” he sighs. “i’m just worried about you, you know?” 

“i know, i know. but i’m still really sorry.” and you don’t have to elaborate on why that is because you both know that he’ll be the one helping you pick up the pieces when this situation inevitably breaks your heart even more than it’s already broken, if that’s even possible.

“it’s alright,” he says, pulling you in for a hug that’s so warm and kind you almost burst into tears. “you’ll be alright. i’m here.” 

-

this is a bad idea. soobin would yell at you if you told him what you’re up to, but you don’t want to think about that right now. all you want to think about is how much better you’ll feel after you get your secret feelings off of your chest. up until now, the fear of rejection has made you too afraid to tell beomgyu how you really feel, but things can’t get much worse than they are at present, can they? it’s only been a few days since your hookup with beomgyu, but your love is eating you alive and you doubt that you’ll be able to hold it in for much longer.

things will probably go badly, and he’ll probably be completely blindsided, but the thought of continuing to lie to beomgyu’s face hurts more than anything else ever could. even more than the pain you feel every day that he unconsciously hurts your feelings. maybe this will ruin your friendship, but you love beomgyu, and he loves you, even if it’s not in the way that you want. all you can do is hope that your friendship is strong enough to overcome this.

with that mindset, you find yourself at his doorstep on this particularly cool summer night. you know he’s home because you can hear the faint sounds of whatever movie he’s watching emanating from his door. before you can lose your nerve, you begin to rapidly knock. before long, you hear the shuffling of feet nearing you, and you almost bolt then and there, but he’s quick to open the door when he realizes it’s just you.

“what are you doing here?” he asks, agitation apparent. oh god, were you interrupting something? what if he was working? what if he was sleeping? you should've texted before just showing up unannounced. 

“i-i’m sorry, are you busy?” you ask sheepishly.

“... no,” he says after a slight pause, and he opens the door to let you in. you sit yourself on his couch, posture ramrod straight due to how fucking uncomfortable you are, and you try to steady your breathing as you fiddle with your fingers. 

“is this about chaewon?” he asks, breaking the silence, and your heart aches at the trace of hope in his words.

“n-no, nothing like that. i just —”

“is there any update on that?” he cuts in before you can even get your words out.

“oh, um, not really,” you reply before remembering that something has happened, but you’ve been so out of it, it genuinely didn't occur to you to tell him. “wait, actually, she mentioned that you seem different lately, but she, uh, she’s still… well, to be honest, she’s —” 

“what? she’s still what?” and there’s no patience for your rambling to be seen.

“she’s still not interested in dating you,” you mumble, unable to look him in the eyes when you say it. he’s completely silent after your words, and when you do finally gather enough guts to actually look at him, you really, really wish you had just kept your face down. because he’s pissed. 

“are you fucking with me? she really said that?” he asks, and you nod. 

“why didn’t you tell me earlier?!” and you feel so disoriented at the way things are unfolding that you can barely croak out a reply.

“i-i forgot.” 

“you forgot? jesus christ, if it’s not about her, then why are you here?” he seems angrier than you’ve ever seen him, but his words get you to finally remember what you’re here for.

“i just… i needed to talk to you,” you say pleadingly, looking into his eyes as you try your hardest to give yourself the strength to be honest with him.

“about?” 

it takes all of the courage in your poor little heart to choke out your next words. 

“beomgyu, you know, for the longest time, i’ve —”

“i know,” he impatiently snaps. you’re unsure of what he’s referencing, but you do know he has no idea about the feelings you’ve kept hidden for so long. 

“no. no, you don’t know, actually,” you argue, brave face on, but voice shakier than a leaf. “i just need to tell you that i —”

“that you love me? i know, that’s what i just fucking said,” he sighs irritatedly. “why else would you help me? ‘cause you love me so much, right?” he knows it’s wrong to take his frustration out on you, but you’re so pathetic, you make it too damn easy. you’re the perfect outlet for him to unleash all of his anger.

“you… you knew? this entire time?” you ask incredulously. you feel like you’re suffocating in the face of his callousness and disgust, and the room feels smaller than it did before.

“i mean, yeah. it was kind of obvious,” he muses. your cheeks feel so hot you’re sure you’re on the brink of immolation. it was obvious? if it was obvious, then why did he keep you around in the first place? because you’re useful when it comes to helping him get his dick wet?

“so… so why did you…” you trail off, still finding it inconceivable that the beomgyu you know and love could possibly know about your feelings; and not only are they unreciprocated by him, which you could understand and respect, but they’re nothing more than a fucking joke and means to an end. the end in question being burying himself into other women.

“why did i act like i didn’t know? because i don't feel the same way,” he answers, and you already knew it and knew it well, but that doesn't make it any more digestible to hear.

“y-yeah, but you — how could you still sleep with me? how could you do that to me?” you ask, lips wobbling and voice cracking. you can't believe this. you won't believe this. you have to be misunderstanding something somewhere. there's just no way this is it.

“because it was easy,” he says with a shrug, and your heart shatters into a million pieces. 

because it was easy. 

easy. what a funny word. you don’t think you even fully comprehend what it means in this context, actually. easy, easy, easy, but what part of this has been easy for you? every day, it’s like you’re killing yourself by trying to twist into what he wants you to be. a friend, a confidant, and now, even a lover. but lover is being too generous, isn't it? because he does not love you, not even as a friend, and this discovery becomes clearer and clearer as you think back to every time he’s shown you just how little he cares.

soobin’s litany of warnings come back to haunt you with a vengeance. 

he’s just using you. 

he’s garbage.

he’s just gonna hurt you.

and though you know soobin will take no pleasure in being correct, you can't help but dread the “i told you so” you know he will never be mean enough to say, but will inevitably think.

“i thought we were friends,” you say incredulously, dread and anxiety pooling in the deepest recesses of your heart. “i thought you cared about me” 

and he doesn’t shrug or anything because he doesn’t really need to, but he might as well seeing as how it clearly makes no difference to him. and this is finally how you come to understand that beomgyu is just as bad as everyone says. maybe even a little worse. and he will continue to act like a sociopath for as long as you let him. 

“i-i love you, i really do. but no fucking way. i won’t sit here and let you treat me like shit,” you declare, tears flowing down your cheeks so quickly and steadily you’d probably be unable to wipe them away even if you tried. luckily or unluckily, you don’t even have the strength to find out. 

“you’re going to regret this,” you whisper, and it’s said with such certainty that for a moment, he almost believes you. almost, but not quite.

either way, you’re booking it out of his door before he can even reply.

-

this is everything beomgyu ever could’ve asked for. chaewon is sitting next to him on his bed, eyes dark with lust as she unceremoniously grabs the end of her top and tugs it off. she's beautiful, no doubt about that, but he feels more and more like something is incredibly wrong. 

she leans in to press her lips onto his, but he flinches, scooting almost imperceptibly further away from her on the bed. she falters for a moment before sighing and crawling on all fours to situate herself between his legs. she begins to unzip his pants and tug on his waistband before he frantically stops her.

“w-what are you doing?” he asks, voice shaking.

“blowing you, what does it look like i’m doing?” she replies with a roll of her eyes. “i just wish i had known you wouldn’t be into kissing or, like, actual foreplay, but whatever.” she continues her movement to pull his pants down before he stops her again. 

“what’s wrong?” she asks curiously, before finally realizing that he is, to what would normally be his eternal shame, completely soft. her mouth drops in shock, and in another universe, beomgyu has enough energy to care. but not in this one. in this one, his eyes are teary as he feels an implacable sense of dread he can’t seem to shake off. 

“oh god,” she says with conviction, pulling herself back up and running one hand through her hair. “i knew this would happen.” 

beomgyu, on his part, looks somewhat out of it, but her words bring him back to earth. 

“knew what would happen?” he asks tentatively, sniffling for reasons unknown to him while he tries not to let his tears run over his waterlines.

“i knew you’d act like this because of her,” she says begrudgingly. 

his eyebrows furrow for a second, not because he doesn’t already know who she’s talking about, but because he doesn’t understand the correlation between you and the situation he presently finds himself in.

“think about it,” she says slowly, condescendingly. “who do you trust, like, actually? and i’m not just talking about with getting girls, but with everything.” beomgyu is silent as he tries to comprehend what she's saying, but he’s nothing if not slow on the uptake in regards to human emotion. 

“oh, beomgyu, come the fuck on,” she sighs in frustration. “i mean, when you were stressed about that presentation for your job, who did you call? yunjin told me all about it. she said you spent hours reciting a 15 minute presentation to the girl you supposedly don’t give a fuck about.” ah. he remembers that night, actually, and he remembers it well. he called you in a panic, so you brought over some dinner because you knew he was stressed, but he was so wound up that you didn’t leave and even insisted that he practice with you in order to give him feedback. he spent the whole night repeating the same speech over and over again, but you sat patiently and encouragingly as he repeated the boring, inconsequential drivel to you. you never complained, not even once, and you didn’t ask him for any compensation in the form of him doing something — anything — similar for you, either. even if you had, he realizes, he wouldn't have given any to you, anyway.

“that’s…” 

“and that’s not even all of it. who’s the first one you look for when you walk into a room? and when something good happens, who do you tell first? not anybody else, and i know for a fact that it’s not me, never will be,” she says bitterly. every new point slashes at his heart and ego.

and suddenly, things start making sense, albeit in the worst possible way. beomgyu loves you. his trust and dependence on you all make an awful sort of sense, but in a way, it’s relieving to finally be able to put a name to this feeling. his eyes still feel hot, but not so much because something feels wrong, but because things finally feel right for the first time in forever. he loves you, has loved you, and will continue to love you.

her words resonate with him so deeply, she can read it all over his face. it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he finally understands, but he’s still missing an important fact. the most important fact, even. 

“yeah, i guess you finally get it now. you have feelings for her. and the worst thing is: you treat her like shit.” his eyes widen and the tears that were just threatening to escape are completely let loose. how could he only come to this realization after he already effectively stomped on your heart and your pure intentions? after you’ve made it clear that you don’t want anything to do with him anymore? and he has nobody but himself to blame, really; he practically shoved you away over and over and over again. 

“i-i didn’t mean to —” 

“sure, of course you didn’t,” she says with a sarcastic smile. “whatever makes you feel better for fucking over the girl who’s been in love with you for years.”

-

beomgyu may not know much about the inner workings of interpersonal relationships, but he does know he needs to see you, and he’s smart enough to understand that he needs to apologize. 

but beomgyu has never apologized for anything in his life — not unless you count the times his mother made him grit them out as a child when he would objectively do something wrong, but this is another matter entirely. nobody will be holding his hand as he does it, and he’s not even really sure where to start. but he knows he has to try.

surely there’s a better place to try than at the bar where he currently finds himself, but then, there’s no time like the present. not to mention that he has a sneaking suspicion that you're avoiding all of your mutual friends’ get-togethers for the sole purpose of avoiding him. if the blocking of all of his socials wasn’t enough, the blocking of his phone number certainly was.

it’s not necessarily fate’s fault that he finds himself here, either. he heard from a friend (chaewon) that you’d be here tonight. he sees you from across the bar looking lively and chatty, and he prays that the good mood you seem to be in will help soften the upcoming conversation with him. to his luck, you step out of the bar to take a call, so he slides from his seat with an open beer bottle in tow, and follows you outside. 

your back is turned, and he doesn’t quite hear what you’re talking about over the phone, but he does catch a giggle and a name, soobin’s, and it makes his heart ache. when you hang up, you turn to head back into the bar, but you’re met with his figure. 

“h-hey,” he says, and he wants to smack himself for the casual greeting he still managed to fuck up.

your eyes widen for a moment before they go blank, and you’re pushing past him without a response. 

“i need to talk to you,” he says, voice trembling as he grabs the back of your elbow, which you snatch out of his grip like his touch is poison. 

“about?” you ask curtly, barely even deigning to turn your head to look at him. you have never been so hostile towards anyone, let alone him, and it's making him spiral. 

“i’m sorry. i’m just really, really sorry,” he desperately apologizes. you’re silent for a few moments as you turn to completely face him with your arms crossed, and he’s trying his damndest to read your expression, but he can’t quite make it out.

“okay… and?” is all you say in response, and he fumbles over his words at your nonchalance. 

“a-and, um, i —”

“you know what?” you cut in with an impatient sigh and a wave of your hand. “i don’t care anymore. you’ve said enough.”

“but i —” 

“i don’t care, beomgyu.” and his name is said in such disgust that it sounds to him like it’s a chore for you to spit out. you’re about to turn and reenter the bar when his next words come tumbling out. 

“i think — i know —  i love you,” he says urgently, and your previously unreadable gaze turns into one of pure, sheer amusement. you’re so amused, you laugh, even. 

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you say between giggles.

“i-i didn’t realize it before, but i talked to chaewon, and she even said that i’ve probably always felt that way about you. i know i didn’t show it, but i really do love —”

“okay, just stop. stop it right there, beomgyu. i’m only going to say it just this once, so listen carefully, okay?” you ask, and he fervently nods. 

“okay. you don't know the first thing about love.” and he goes to interrupt you, but you don’t let him. “loving somebody means you put their feelings above your own. what the hell would you know about that?” 

“i’m… i know i was wrong, b-but i —” 

“beomgyu,” you say exasperatedly. “i’m so glad you’re finally reaching enlightenment, and i’m so happy i was cannon fodder for you to use to get there. but i just really, really don’t care anymore, okay? do what you want with whoever you want, but don’t bother me about it anymore, alright?” and he’s so stunned he can’t even form words, but you just shake your head and prepare to leave again. unconsciously, he goes to grab you again, which you consequently dodge, and he thinks this is the most rejected he’s ever felt before realizing it’s not over yet. it’s only truly over when you grab his bottle from him and splash its contents across his face before throwing the bottle back into his arms and leaving for good.

notes pt. 2: yeah... idk when part two will be out but stay tuned! also, if you all want a soobin ending let me know and i might... MIGHT do it ;_;

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[lewisvinga]

the best trophy | lewis hamilton x fem! reader

summary; as much as lewis loved his and y/n’s fwb , he couldn’t help but want more. all it took was one grand moment for him to finally reveal his feelings

warnings; mentions of sex, cursing

word count; 1.12k

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minkyungseokie @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri

notes; requested ! manifesting the ending of this fr, tbh not proof read so lmk if there are any mistakes 😭😭

masterlist !

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the race?”

Lewis's voice filled the once quiet room as he watched Y/n shuffle around his hotel room to put back on the sweatpants she came in.

“If you promise me that Mercedes Hospitality has oat milk for my coffee.” She joked, still somewhat out of breath from their previous activities.

“You know I always make sure.” His tone was soft, watching as she slipped on her fuzzy slippers and fixed her messy hair. He ignored how his heart hurt when she walked towards his hotel room door. “Can’t have your stomach ruining your mood, can we?”

“You’re the best, Lew.” She said with a smile, wiping away the bits of mascara from under her eye. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Of course, tomorrow.”

They exchanged smiles before she left, leaving the Mercedes driver alone to his thoughts. A disappointed sigh escaped from his lips once the door shut. The bed seemed emptier than usual. It was like she was never there. The only trace of her was the scent of sex that remained in the room.

Lewis liked his friends-with-benefits situation with Y/n. They were friends who fucked whenever one wanted to. Sure the sex was great, amazing even in his opinion, but after a few months, he realized how he wanted something else. He wanted something more.

He hated that his heart longed for her after they finished their deed. He hated how he wanted to hold her in his arms and kiss her soft lips. He hated how he wanted to wake up with her in his arms and prepare breakfast for the both of them. He hated how he wanted to take her out on extravagant dates and gift her jewelry so expensive that you’d only ever gift them to your partner, not a friend.

And Lewis hated that he felt this way. He knew having any romantic feelings in a friends-with-benefits relationship would really ruin the friendship. He already treasured his friendship with Y/n and doubted she liked him romantically. The best choice was to just keep his feelings hidden out of fear of ruining the friendship.

He laid back and rested his head against his pillow. The same pillow that she was just laying her head against. His heart was heavy as his eyes fluttered shut with only Y/n on his mind.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Y/n felt like she was about to faint as she watched Lewis start the very last lap of the race. Max was close behind him with George behind the Red Bull driver.

Her heart began to race as Lewis got closer and closer to the checkered flag. After losing the chance of his 8th world championship and Mercedes having a poor car while not listening to his suggestions, he had begun to lose faith. 2 years without a win and it was slowly killing him.

Thanks to a mistake from Red Bull during a pit stop, Lewis quickly gained the lead with around 15 laps to go and defended exceptionally from Max. He was seconds away from winning potentially one last time with Mercedes.

Time seemed to pass by slowly as Lewis passed the checkered flag.

“He has done it again! He breaks his own record and is now a 104x race winner! Lewis Hamilton wins the 2024 British Grand Prix! That’s a double podium for Mercedes!”

The Mercedes garage turned into a blur from everyone screaming and cheering at the race results. Y/n couldn’t hold back her tears and cheers as Bono shook her from excitement.

“C’mon, Y/n!” The engineer exclaims, grabbing her by the arm as they rush to the Parc Fermé. She ran after him, clutching her bag as she let out a laugh. She could see the 7-time world champion park his car into the 1st place spot from a distance.

Lewis was as emotional as ever. He finally got over a rough and dark patch. After Abu Dhabi 2021, after 2 years without a win, after having to deal with a poor car, he finally achieved the 104th win of his career. However, there was still something or someone he wanted to win.

He could see Y/n standing off to the side of the crowd of Mercedes workers. She wore a wide smile, wiping away her tears as she waited for him to get out of his car.

He knew he couldn’t hold his feelings anymore. He knew there was a time and place and tried to hold himself back as he ran over to his team. They all knock on his helmet, pat his back, and shout all due to being filled with happiness from his win.

He quickly took off his helmet and balaclava and was about to head over to her when he was stopped for his post-race interview. He glanced at her but she waved her hand, signaling him to go do the interview.

However, the moment it was over, Lewis ran over to Y/n instead of into the cooldown room. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he grabbed onto her waist, holding her close.

“Fuckin’ hell, Lewis, you’re something else-“

“Y/n, I can’t hold myself back any longer”. He quickly said, giving her waist a gentle squeeze. She furrowed up her eyebrows in confusion however a glint in his eyes told her enough.

“And I’m scared as fuck that you won’t like what I’m about to say. But I’ve been feeling like this for ages and I-“

Y/n couldn’t help but smile at his nervousness. She knew Lewis was about to go on a rant. She loosely runs her fingers through his braids causing him to stop speaking. “Lew?”

“Yeah?”

She pulled him closer, their lips just centimeters away from each other. “I’ve been feeling the same.” She whispers, glancing up at him through her lashes. His deep brown eyes widened in shock and joy.

Instead of saying anything, Lewis gently cups her cheeks before finally closing the small space between their lips. Their lips fit perfectly together as if they were made just for each other. Even if they’ve kissed during their late-night sessions, this kiss was different. It was sensual or lust-filled, it was filled with passion and love.

They both pulled away breathlessly, ignoring how the Mercedes team cheered at their kiss especially George who had to deal with all of their longing looks.

“So does this mean you’ll officially be mine?” He says, resting his forehead against hers.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Lewis lets out a breathy chuckle, tucking a strand of Y/n’s hair behind her ear. Before leaning in to kiss her again, he whispered, “You’re better than any win. You’re the best trophy I could get.”

[chuulyssa]

can you write about pm!dazai who edges you a lot with a breeding kink? fem reader please!

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ ᴏꜱᴀᴍᴜ !

★ COUNT ─ 0.7k

!! TAGS ─ f!reader x pm!dazai, underage sex, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f receiving), cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, spanking, degradation, praise kink, hair pulling, edging, begging kink, breeding kink, overstimulation, slightly angsty at the end, mood swings, exhibitionism, public sex, bathroom sex, mirror sex, dazai is a jerk and reader is a brat

★ PROLOGUE ─ a jealous, mafia boyfriend? what could possibly go wrong?

SMUT, 18+, MDNI

READ ON AO3

It wasn't easy being Osamu Dazai's girlfriend.

Sure, the suicidal tendency was bearable to some extent. The intense amount of flirting and teasing? Maybe. Heck, even his dangerous profession was okay with you.

But there were times - times that pissed even your usually calm (and secretly loving) boyfriend off, which would result in moments such as this one.

"Please, please, 'Samu, I wanna come."

"No," he flat-out refused you, placing his tongue so that it would hit your clit with every word. "Should've thought of that before draping yourself all over that dumbass."

"But I-"

You were cut off by another finger inside your cunt, stretching it out even more. You were practically screaming at this point, make-up smudged and head lolled to one side of the bathroom door. Your legs were shaking, and you thought you would've collapsed ages ago if it wasn't for Dazai's hands holding your ass steadily from in between your legs.

"Oh, god, please, I can't hold it in!" you cried pathetically, mascara running down your cheeks.

"Better try to," he replied haughtily. "You wanted my attention, right? There you have it."

It was only when you began to drip that he let out a groan as if it was your fault for not letting him "enjoy his meal."

"Seriously?" he gave your ass a loud spank. "Can't even listen to me? You're miserable."

You whimpered, face pressing into the door frame as your legs finally let go, causing you to fall crashing on the floor while Dazai got up and unbuckled his pants.

He folded his belt in half, bent down and hit your ass again, and although he had tried to be as gentle as he could've, you still ended up squirting the rest of your orgasm.

"Done?" Dazai rolled his eyes, and you nodded. He pulled you up from your elbows harshly, as if you were nothing more than a ragdoll for him, and pushed you against the bathroom sink.

Running a slender finger down your back, he spoke quietly, as if his entire mood had changed all of a sudden.

"You like this, don't you? Like it when I play with you like this? That's the reason you talk to Chuuya, right? So I get jealous? Because you know we'll end up this way then?"

Your brain was fucked out and your vision was blurry, but you could make out the serious, almost somber expression on your boyfriend's face from the mirror in front of you. You bucked your hips behind you to reach his cock, closing your eyes and nodding. You mumbled a tiny, "I'm sorry," which he ignored.

"You won't... leave me, right?"

You opened your eyes and gave him a lazy smile, which he appreciated, considering your current condition.

"You love me?"

"The most."

Dazai nodded and lined his cock up your entrance. Your hands gripped the edge of the sink tightly in anticipation, your knuckles white. Slowly, he pushed in, taking in every inch of your tight pussy. His hand reached out to fondle your nipples, head resting on your back as he pulled back and thrust inside you again.

You let out a loud moan, mouth forming an O-shape and eyelashes framing your eyes in a sultry look. Oh, how you loved the way Dazai pounded into you, hair messy and sweat dropping, calling you his "pretty little slut". So lovable after the relentless edging and begging.

Well, it didn't take him long to switch up his personality once more, going from calm to rough all over again. You were slumped over the sink, head and back arched while Dazai silently thrust into you with all his might.

"Bet you wouldn't leave me just so you could have this dick, yea?" he yanked your hair and you yelped. "So I'm gonna come inside you, and I'm hiding your little birth control pills."

You whined.

"You're my little breeding bitch. I'm gonna fuck you so hard. Bet you'd like for your periods to disappear for nine months? Eh?" he teased.

The idea was refreshing. And so he continued. Once, twice, thrice. Honestly, you couldn't remember how much cum he stored in you. It wasn't until someone knocked on the door that you left the mall. This was probably the eighth time you got caught in public.

It really wasn't easy being Osamu Dazai's girlfriend.

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[suempu]

Falls to floor your writing is so lovely Do you perhaps have any kabru x reader sfw/nsfw hcs…

thank you so much for the kind words. “lovely” 🥹 ahh you got me blushing anon lmfao

gn reader + on the receiving end !!!

<3

kabru would be the casual type of lover. he’s nothing but calm and suave with you, which is attractive.

he’s quite attentive of people and you’re no exception. although he really goes out of his way to be accommodating when it comes to you if you’re his lover.

mindful of your expressions and body language. once he sees a sign of you being uncomfortable, kabru will pull you away from the group and talk to you softly.

i feel like he’d be good at taking care of his partner, though he’s not the best, he tries.

kabru’s good at talking you down, grounding you into reality whenever you’re on the verge of a breakdown. let’s say you feel very unstable, he’ll whisper in the most softest tone you’ll ever hear while he holds your hand. he asks permission to touch you beforehand of course.

“here, you can feel my fingers, right?”

“mm.”

“my palm, feel it. you’re here with me,”

“i’m here…”

“good job. can i ask what happened?”

he’s good at radiating a calm atmosphere when you need it and he’s always ready to help you.

praises and compliments come out of his mouth like a piece of cake, he’s not shy when it comes to showering you with love. the whole party is grossed out by him whenever you’re around. it’s like when the parents are being all lovey-dovey and the children just groan out an ‘eww’ (its mainly mickbell complaining tho lmao)

i believe he’s had one or two intimate relationships before you, but none of them has ever lasted long enough as yours. so he’s had some experience before you.

he’s certainly a tease. have you seen that face? that face screams unfairness and mischief (in bed)

kabru loves your whining whenever he purposely denies you release. one moment his fingers will go fast and wild on your most sensitive spots, and the next he goes painstakingly slow.

“aww, but if i let you cum this early, then what about me?”

he’s a cheeky bastard. the real reason why he draws out your orgasms is because he believes that edging you will result to a much pleasurable and hard orgasm for later (he’s right.)

you will get overstimulated with this man, no question about it. he strives to make you cum at least 5-6 times in one session, which is overkill but he really loves the way your eyes glaze over.

kabru loves your tears and whining, though it kind of makes him guilty so he makes sure to absolutely spoil you after.

his hips are bad for your body. with the way he thrusts into you so precisely. its like he already knows which spot to hit, he rolls into you as he teases and whispers in your ear. he’s actually fucking crazy.

“right here? oh yeah, here?”

he moans in time with his thrusts. he loves watching your face, how your half lidded eyes look so lost yet so present. missionary is definitely his favorite position. loves being all up on your face, he kisses your cheeks, forehead, lips, and jaw while he’s inside you.

nights with him are long and wild, but he can go slow and be more gentler if you asked him to. he lives for your reactions, he thinks its really sweet how you trust him so much with your body.

kabru makes up for all his teasing with aftercare. he pants as he pulls you close, hands on your back and caressing you gently.

“you okay? did i break you?”

“shut up.” you breath out hoarsely.

he chuckles, “i love you too.”

he gives you a massage after that, quietly kissing your hips and stomach as his fingers rub at your skin. whispers small apologies while his hands work on your body. he always checks in on you whenever he hears a whine or groan when he touches a sore spot.

while he is content with just sleeping and cuddling in your own sweat, he’ll take you to the bathroom if you want to be cleaned.

solid lover, tries his best, just don’t ever have sex in his own bedroom (its messy)

[shawnxstyles]

man-handled

DATE: DECEMBER 4, 2023

summary: you get a little caught up in your boyfriend’s muscly arms and can’t help but imagine what it would be like if he man-handled you.

request: i thought it was but i guess not??

words: 5.1k

warning: SMUT (f- receiving (multiple orgasms, oral, fingering, throat-fucking), m- receiving (oral), slight daddy/sir kink, degrading, name-calling, dirty talk), language, and probably the shittiest ending ever

note: i’m so tired y’all

mafia!tom x reader

–

You weren’t usually like this. You weren’t known for being so horny to the point where you can’t think straight. You were known to be quiet, shy, and even a little innocent. But sometimes Tom brought out the worst in you. But you learned to like that side of you. The secret, dark, and dirty side that only Tom could unveil from you. Watching you unfold and come undone–no pun intended–gave Tom a deep sense of growing pride.

Every day he made it more obvious that he was the only one and that there would never be anyone else for you.

What was causing you to act so strange was a new obsession for you. You had been with Tom intimately numerous times, but he never failed to pleasure you immensely. You two have explored each other’s bodies inside and out, yet your mind still found things to obsess over. Currently, it was his arms.

His arms.

They were usually covered with different brand-name suits, all varying from gray to black. The sleeves always wrapped around his biceps snuggly, hinting at only some of his bulkiness. Usually, the sight of him in his suits when he left for work had you thinking about how hot he looked overall. But as you watched him leave this morning, your eyes couldn’t stop fixating on the packed muscle you knew was hiding under the black suit’s sleeves.

You’re not sure, but you think this newest obsession started last night by complete accident. That accident being Tom’s overwhelming dominance and control when he was fucking you.

Although you were on the quieter and more innocent side, it amazed both Tom and you that you were secretly fucked in the head just like him. You hadn’t even known it until you stumbled upon Tom. Sometimes, you think that he molded you to indulge in his kinks and fantasies, but he’s never forced you to do anything. If anything, it’s always you shyly asking him to do something more when a dirty thought pops into your head. He always makes sure to degrade yet praise you in the most addicting and twisted way.

Last night, while you and Tom were simply watching a movie, things got heated (it was never just going to be a movie). Tom had gotten home early and just wanted to relax. But the makeout between you two got hotter and you both got needier. When you moved yourself to his lap, gently rocking into him, his strong hands forced you to stay still. You remembered the bruises present on his knuckles and wondered if they still hurt when he squeezed your hips. You whined into his mouth before he picked you up easily, throwing you over his shoulder as you squealed.

“Always so greedy.”

Tom has picked you up and threw you over his shoulder before. Maybe the other times he was gentler about it, afraid to hurt his little princess even if you were completely okay with it. But that night, he didn’t seem to give a fuck. He had a difficult day at work, the evidence clear on his wounded hands, so maybe he took some of that aggressive out on you. After he had brought you upstairs, you were extremely drenched as his bulky arms tossed you on the bed.

But after that, he apologized for being so rough. He explained how he had a tough day and he was sorry for taking it out on you. It resulted in long, sweet, loving sex that you adored all the time because you got to see the part of him that no one sees. Just like that secret part in you that only he sees. Except, you weren’t yearning for his softness after being man-handled. No, you were looking to be fucked. Hard. You wanted it rough, messy, degrading, and straight sinful. The nastiest scenes flooded your mind through the night, hoping that you could relive one of them with Tom. As he fucked slow into you last night, your eyes couldn’t remove themselves from his bulging arms holding himself over his head. You watched as the muscles would work and his veins would pop out when he did a push-up, and it had you clenching around him pathetically.

What were you going to tell him when he came home?

For the rest of the day, you wandered around the house needily. You cleaned, you read, you reorganized, but nothing distracted you enough from your fucked-up thoughts and the pulse between your legs. One part of you felt ashamed for hiding it from Tom, but the other half of you didn’t care. It felt like you had your own little secret that no one knew. But then again, you really wanted to tell him because you wanted to see the results. And feel them…

When it was late into the evening, seemingly later than when Tom usually returns, you sighed to yourself. You brought yourself to bed, too worn out from your own desires nagging you down all day. If only Tom didn’t have a rule about touching yourself while he was gone, you would have been able to handle your dirty situation all by yourself. But no, Tom had to be insanely controlling and sexy about everything, just making your situation even harder to deal with. Just as your bare feet slip into the comforter, you hear the hefty front door open. Your head shoots up, instantly on high alert of Tom’s arrival. Just when you thought your body was relaxing, the sound of his approaching footsteps seem to heighten your hormone levels, veering away from homeostasis once again.

Tom peeks his head through the ajar bedroom door, body hunching over the door handle. He doesn’t say a word until he realizes that you are in fact awake, opening the door wider. He skulks closer to you, his body bulky and stoic just how you remembered it being this morning when he left. His hands at his sides had those infamous cuts and bruises that you always wrapped with bandages. He never wanted you to, you demanded that you do. Your heart pounds as your tummy tickles, wishing he could read your mind and just handle you the way you want him to with those bruised knuckles.

“Missed you today, Princess,” his thick hand rose to caress the hair on your head. You feel yourself lean into his touch, yearning it always no matter how intense or soft. You always craved to just feel him.

“Missed you too, Daddy. So much,” your hand reaches up and encloses around his wrist, squeezing softly. His hand gently pulls away as he sits beside you on the bed, and you nearly whimper at the loss of contact.

“What d’you do today?” Tom asked simply and softly, genuinely curious about your day. But finally with him next to you, your mind has gotten all fuzzy, and you feel like you’ve forgotten every word you’ve known. Your eyes haven’t drifted away from his arm since he pulled away from you, mind encompasses in the way he moves.

“I cleaned. I reorganized the shelves in your office. Oh, and I read too…”

Tom tried to listen to your dull list of activities, but he couldn’t help but notice how distracted you seemed. Maybe you were tired from all the chore-like things you did. But your eyes weren’t blinking as they started at his chest, clearly hazy with something. Something familiar.

“Yeah? And what did you read?”

“Um… I don’t remember,” your head started to tilt to the side as you licked your lips, lost in whatever thought was clouding your mind currently. Tom’s mouth curved just the slightest bit up at the airheaded state of you, wondering if you could be anymore adorable. The fact that you didn’t remember what you read, knowing you love reading, is what stood out to Tom the most. Something was obviously off, Tom just couldn’t figure it out yet.

“How was work? Do you need me to patch you up?”

“Work was stressful. People don’t listen and then ask why m’so harsh. And idiots like to go behind m’back and take stuff from me,” Your eyes fall onto his wounded hands.

“S’not nice…”

“Not nice at all, huh?” Tom reaches up to caress your face ever-so gently, not wanting to touch you too much with his open cuts.

“Come on. Let me fix you up. Please?”

Now, how could Tom ever say no to you?

–

Sometimes, Tom could be stubborn. Like right now, where he refused to sit down while you tended to his wounds because he’s saying that it won’t take long enough to sit. You want to roll your eyes in annoyance, but you don’t want him to see your attitude and punish you later. Or maybe you do…

He had his suit jacket off now and just his crisp, white buttoned shirt rolled up to the elbows. The skin that was untouched was smooth under your delicate touch, but his scars and fresh cuts, which were most likely old ones reopened, were rugged. You dabbled light pressure as you wiped away dry blood with the wet cloth, not afraid of hurting him because he barely blinks when he punches someone. He surely wasn’t phased by his girl cleaning up his damages like a little puppy trying to lick themselves better. That’s exactly what your touch felt like—little puppy licks and gentle pawing.

And when you applied the cooling ointment, his pain was eased, but he doesn’t think it was from the cream. No, he is a firm believer that you are his medicine. Your words, your touch, your soul was healing. Although he was your opposite in every way and he hurt people for a living while you mended people’s aches with your mere presence, he could never hurt you. Never.

So, when you’re all finished wrapping his hands with that rough cloth that’s an excuse for a bandage (it was all he had stored), he’s shocked by your blunt statement. You were rarely blatant about anything, especially when it had to do with sexual situations.

“Why did you apologize to me last night?” You just threw your words at him, hoping he caught them. He didn’t know that when you were fixing him up you were ogling his arms like a child in a toy store during the Christmas season. His veins were green, constant exploitation of work causing them to pop out more. He looked delicious and it made you crave him more than ever. Even more with his ripped up hands. You wanted the roughness and pain and the power to be instilled on you. You wanted him to take his particularly hard day out on you. Tom blinked, silently leading you out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. He tried to recall exactly when he apologized to you, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Clearly, work had gotten to his head too much.

“I don’t remember what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, darling,” Without a thought, he begins unbuttoning his shirt with his bandaged hands. He looked like something of a fancy man mixed with an underground boxer. Not the type of fancy that shows off his money, but the type that’s humble and real and works hard for what he wants. A man who made himself. And that’s exactly who Tom is; someone who built himself.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling like you’re under the spotlight. But you took a breath. “Last night, when we were having… sex… you apologized for being really rough.”

He flatly hums, indicating that you need to continue while he buttons his shirt. You could just faint from his sculpted, stony beauty that was hidden behind a few buttons and fabric. Unlike his knuckles, his skin was smooth and untouched besides his scattered tattoos. He had faint scars that you could barely see unless you were looking really hard (which in your case maybe you were). His build and figure used to intimidate you, but now, you’re just awed.

“Well… I kind of liked when you were rough…” Your words dragged out, especially as your head tilted down to face your lap in embarrassment. “You’ve never really been like that before and it caught me off guard, but in a really good way! I didn’t realize I wanted something like that until… yeah.” You weren’t embarrassed that you were attracted to your own boyfriend’s man-handling, but by the fact that you had to admit that to get what you wanted. Sometimes, you wish he could just read your mind, but life wasn’t a movie or a book, even if it felt like that from time to time with the life you live. Dating a mafia man was insane to visualize–those things only really happened in books. Or so you thought.

“You did?” You softly hummed, nodding your head. You could feel the heat radiating off of your cheeks, your heart thumping in your chest. You didn’t think Tom would reject you. That’s not why your heart was beating faster than its usual tempo. You were anticipated and your organ couldn’t help but be thrilled at what was to come. “You liked when I took my day out on you? Liked when I was a little mean?”

You crossed your ankles that had been hanging off the bed, biting your lip. You nodded, maybe a little too quickly, because you got slightly dizzy from the movement along with your amped hormones. You had that beat in your chest, but you also had that throbbing pulse in your lower body that has been aching since you watched him leave earlier that day. In the most Tom-way possible, he stalks over to you, torso bare while his trousers remain on. He’s slow and calculated, and it makes you even more anxious. When your eyes finally look up at him, he’s glaring down at you with blown-out pupils, a darkness swirling with the brown color of his irises.

He’s close to you now, inches away from touching you. But he doesn’t. You hear the clink of his belt loosening around his waist before it’s adoring his hand. His quick movements cause the leather to slap your bicep, making you gasp, but what he doesn’t do is apologize. You’re not sure if what he did was purposeful. Did he want to startle you and show you how rough he really could be? You never lingered too long on the idea of him using a belt on you, but if Tom was going to be man-handling you more often, then the thought would probably be more recurring. Tom shrugs off his pants as if they’re a bother, and by the large bulge outlined in his briefs, it seems as if they really are.

You hadn’t even realized you were licking your lips until Tom’s hand came up around your throat, thumb pulling it out. He tucks his thumb into your mouth, gripping it tightly.

“Drooling over m’cock and I’m not even fully undressed yet,” he removes his thumb before lightly tapping your cheek. “On your knees. Need to fill that filthy mouth.”

The devil on your shoulder wants to be a brat and not listen to him, but you’ve been craving this all day. If Tom knew what you wanted–which he did–his punishment to you would just be not giving it to you. And that’s not your ideal plan at the moment. So, you slide off the edge of the bed and onto the floor at his feet. The first thing he does is spread your thighs open with his ankle.

“You don’t get to squeeze y’pretty little thighs together while sucking me off. That’s rude, pet. Get as wet as you want, but if you close y’legs, you’re not comin’ tonight. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Your hands were waiting anxiously by your sides, clawing at the skin on your thighs. Your pussy was already clenching around its own wetness, unable to close due to his new limit.

“It talks,” his tone was sinister and demeaning. The kind that would make someone’s eyes twitch and hands fist in an argument out of irritation. But his works were fueling some type of sick need inside of you that needed to be sedated, and this seemed to be the only way to do it. And you didn’t mind it one bit. You fucking loved it. “Who knew such a slut would be so obedient?”

You knew better than to respond to that rhetorical question. Instead, you patiently wait for his smirk to rise in cocky pride before he finally slips off his briefs. Like every time you’ve seen his cock, it’s pretty. You didn’t know they were supposed to look so yummy and dream-like. He was smooth with inklings of hair scattered down at the base and his tip was a cute coral color that grew an angry red when he was hard. From the looks of it, he was pretty hard. His tip was leaking that delicious pre-cum you were dying to taste, even if you’ve had it thousands of times before. Having to sit and stare at his glory without touching was some type of punishment, you think.

His hand latches onto the base and the other grips the back of your head. He pushes you closer, tapping your cheek with his tip. You suck in a breath, readying to take him.

“You know what to do if it’s too much. And it will be.”

Tom shoves his cock into mouth once you’re open wide enough. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust to his size or explore his prick like he usually does. This time he’s quick and harsh like he’s trying to beat some type of record. But he’s still just as calculated as he always is, and you know he’s not just going to come fast because he can. Most men do that all the time when they want to get off briskly, but Tom wasn’t like that. He liked to take his time and appreciate the moment, edging you both just a little to make it a little fun. He always edged himself more though, forcing orgasms out of you before you would even touch him.

Your cunt pulsates around nothing, trying to grasp the pleasure he is holding from you. Hands clawing at his meaty thighs until your nails break the skin barrier. Moans attempt to escape your mouth, but are instantly shoved right back down your throat from his thick cock. Tom drills into you with no mercy, causing saliva to cascade down your chin in long strings. The muscles in your jaw ache from their open stance, begging for a break that you would never get. If it was too much you could easily tap his thigh a few times and it would all be over, but that’s exactly what you don’t want. You love that he came home after a stressful day and you could make him feel better. You didn’t want your limitations to restrict his maximum abilities when you secretly wanted more to begin with.

“Look at you letting me fuck this throat. This whiny, little throat and your filthy mouth. Always so fuckin’ needy for it,” his grip on your hair intensified, stilling your head from any movements you might subconsciously make. You’re not surprised when the tears finally start to leak from your eyes, rolling down your face in wavering streams rather than small rivulets. “I’m so big I made you a crybaby. That good, sweetheart?”

There were no words that were able to leave your stuffed mouth, only rumbles of moans that vibrated around his cock so dirtily that his head was falling back. Deep, guttural groans emitted from his rough throat, his movements never faulting. Even when you feel the tip of him twitching in the back of your mouth, he doesn't stop.

“Take it. I’m going to come and you’re going to take it. All you wanted was to be a storage for my cum, right?” Tom’s words were cruel and degrading, but they were the exact thing that got you off. Your stomach churned in lust, feeling a bit neglected, yet pleasured by him fucking your mouth.

He was going all out tonight and you didn’t want anything less. Tom didn’t even give you a warning about when he was coming, he just wanted you to take it. And who were you to defy him? When ropes of his much-needed release fired from his prick, you made sure to swallow every drop. He slowly removes himself from your mouth as your jaw aches immensely. Saliva and cum were lathered around your chin, coating your lips with the taste of him. Your hand lifts up to massage your jaw as you look up at the flames of lust in Tom’s eyes. You notice that there’s slight hesitation; he wants to default back into a caring lover rather than a dominant one. But even with the soreness in your jaw, you manage a smirk to let him know that you’re fine. You’re more than fine, and you’re more than ready to continue the rest of the night. You know that it will be your turn soon too at some point, right? That throat-fuck was torture for your sopping cunt. You’re mind-dizzyingly horny.

“What’s the matter? Your lip is all trembling and wet,” You didn’t even notice him stuff his prick back into his pants because you were so mesmerized by the taste left on your tongue and the ache in your jaw. He leans down, nearly level with you on the floor, but still hovering over your head. “Just like your pussy I bet, hm?”

Your entire body shivered from his words as if a frozen wind cascaded through the bedroom, but at the same time, your skin has never burned so fiery. His hands were quick to fit under your arms, lifting you up to your feet. When your thighs met again, they squeezed tightly to rid the incessant throbbing between them. You knew you were just soaking wet too–the kind that reached all the way to your bum once Tom laid you flat on your back. The kind that would drip onto the bed sheets if you were positioned on all fours with your rear up in the air. Tom loved to do every which way with you, but he was keen on watching your scrunched-up face relax once you came. The way your nose would wrinkle and eyebrows furrow, mouth just wide enough to slip a finger or two through. Which, of course, Tom would take advantage of. But right now, he wanted to taste you.

It had been such a long day, full of busyness and rage-work. He didn’t mind having to punch a face or two daily, especially when they wronged him significantly because then he got to do more than just a punch. The only part he hated was seeing your face in the aftermath. When he’d come home, he would see you all delighted to see him back and well, just for your expression to drop in concern at his wounds. Whether it was his hands (it was usually his hands), arms, chest, or even his face, you were relentless about fixing him up. Tom’s resistance was nothing to you, so eventually, he would just sigh and let you aid him. You had something of a magic touch because only you could make Tom feel better. Nothing like the doctors he had occasionally visited as a child or even his mother’s kisses. And now, his knuckles may be bruised and may be bandaged, but that would never stop him from taking care of his girl. Especially when his girl got all shy about wanting to be man-handled. He thought you were the most adorable thing really.

Usually, Tom would gently lay you back on the comforter and make sure you had a pillow underneath your head. This time, he didn’t even hesitate to throw your willing body like a ragdoll on the bed. The gasp you let out was practically a moan. His invasive, manly hands shredded your bottoms down your legs without a care in the world. You’ve never seen him so aggressive with you, but God, if it wasn’t exactly what you wanted. You had been craving this type of fucking, and now that you have it, well, you might just pass out from how good it’s all going to feel.

“This slutty little pussy,” he growls, thumb circling your throbbing clit. He can feel the way it swells underneath his rough touches, and he can hear the way your breath gets caught in your throat. You were always so delicate to him, like you would break if he held you too hard. But while you were soft, you were also strong, which is why Tom was able to treat you like this and you wouldn’t shatter like thin glass. “So weepy and wet. Who knew you were such a cock whore, hm? Or is it just for me?”

“You. Only you.”

Tom knew it was only for him. And of course, you knew it was only for him. No one has ever gotten you as wet as Tom has, and no one has pleasured you nearly as much. He strived to satisfy you until you begged him to stop, which no one had ever come close to doing. Every past partner you’ve been with always had to use lubricants because they couldn’t make you wet enough. You were always ashamed and embarrassed, but then you realized that’s how they should feel. Their performances are minuscule and rubbish; compared to Tom’s, they don’t stand a chance. But you didn’t bother with those past “lovers” anymore, because you had your one and only right in front of you. Or more like right in between your legs with his head on your thigh.

“Right. I’m feeling a bit hungry. You’ll let me eat, won’t you?” He widens your legs, forcing them to spread so you can’t suffocate him with your thighs. Lewd whines spill from your mouth as his breath hits your pussy, warm and close. “Oh, wait, I’m making the decisions.”

His lips lock onto your clit, sucking on the nub. You don’t conceal the moans that instantaneously begin to slip out of you like a mantra. He changes his rhythm, going firm and fast, and then slow and calculated. It was addicting, and it left you clawing at the bed sheets and curling your toes. His tongue swirls through your folds, collecting your juices and prodding inside of you.

No man has eaten you like Tom has. When they did it, they did it as if it was a chore. Tom does it as if it’s a reward.

He cherishes you, honors your body with his hands and mouth while also showing you who’s in control. It’s these things that make you utterly obsessed with him, thinking about him for twenty-four hours even when you see him at the start and end of every day. You were obsessed with the way his tongue was licking into you, desperate to consume every drop of your wetness until you were drained. His thumb returned to its home on your clit, pressing and holding as it throbbed beneath his finger. Your head spun as if you were drunk on a carousel, but it wasn’t nausea you were feeling. No, it was the ecstasy of pleasure building up inside of you as you approached your high.

“S-so close. Fuck—”

A slap to your inner thigh caused you to squeak into the heated air. Tom never cared when you cussed before, but the fact that he did now was another little turn-on that just got added to the list. Seriously, what was wrong with you?

His mouth popped off of you, thumb never letting up on your clit. He cleanly slides his middle finger through your slick folds, easily curling it inside of you. Even with his wounded and wrapped hands, his thrusts are flawless and perfectly paced. The sandy texture of the bandage occasionally itches your inner thigh, adding a delicious stimulation to your skin. As he pumps his digits inside of you, you are aware of the muscles in his arms flexing, which makes you clutch tightly around him.

“Oh, what’s got you so tight?” You groan at his words, not responding clearly. “Don’t be a brat.

“Your a-arms,” You can’t help but moan as he curls his fingers inside of you again.

“Yeah?” he hovers his body over you now, one arm supporting his bulky weight right beside your head. It was exactly like how you had remembered it and you didn’t even have to tell him. His bicep was next to your head, pulsing and working to keep him up right. You could feel and hear him grin and grunt every time you squeeze tightly around his fingers. “You’re the filthiest fuckin’ girl I’ve ever seen. The way you’re taking my fingers I just know you’re wishing it’s m’cock.”

Your skin was on fire. Your hair was a mess. Your head was going to evaporate into a cloud of lust. And your body was an oozing waterfall. That’s the only way to describe how you felt.

His transitions are natural and effortless as if he could do it with his eyes closed because he’s mapped your body out so well. But no matter how many times you’re with him, you’re still withering beneath him, shaking until your orgasm washes over you like a tsunami. He tilts his head, licking his lips before whispering in your ear deeply.

“Since you’ve been crying for it all day, come. Go ahead. Soak my fingers. Soak the fuckin’ sheets.”

You topple over your orgasm into a pool of pleasure, indeed soaking his hand and the sheets beneath you. As your body becomes hypersensitive, you wiggle away from his touch, only for him to hold you in place. He snatches your hips, stills them roughly with a press of his bandaged hands.

“I’m not done here, sweetheart. For this one, I want you to be as quiet as possible. Can you do that? Or are you inclined to let the neighborhood know who is making y’come this many times?”

Tom was incessant about making you come a magnitude of ways that night, all with specific rules. One with no touching, one with no moving, one with no moaning. It was a rollercoaster of crying and orgasms. To say you were exhausted was an understatement, but you’ve never felt more refreshed and satisfied.

You were so tired that when Tom left to begin your aftercare, you had passed out on the messy bed sheets.

—

i rushed the ending so much, but i felt bad that i’ve posted in so long and i’m just so busy that i never have time to write anymore

taglist:

@motheroffae @noa217 @nelly-belly97 @spidermanffh3000 @rugbeat3000 @mysticdaisy21 @emilyparkerholland @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @theslayerofthevampires @breaxthing @eatshitanddiee @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3

crossed out= not able to tag

[hannieehaee]

Svt and ass shots

svt and ass shots

18+ / mdi

content: smut, ass shots, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 798

a/n: sorry i took so long </3

masterlist

seungcheol -

he goes crazy for it. the sight reminds him that you're his and he's the only person who gets to mark you in such way. he'd love the nastiness of it, feeling like getting you messy with his cum was a bit disrespectful in itself but adoring how you'd even come to entice him into doing it, not caring for the mess.

jeonghan -

he's totally into ass shots im 100% sure. i can literally visualize his moans getting higher as he neared his end and hurriedly pulled out to cum on your ass. would tease you about it and how desperate for him you must be to let him do such a nasty thing to you.

joshua -

like jeonghan, he'd be super cocky about it. it wasnt his favorite place to cum, but it'd always give him an ego boost when you'd ask (re: beg) him to cum on your ass. would tease and mock you about it despite he himself feeling weak at the kneed at the sight of your ass/back covered in his cum.

jun -

his brain would go foggy at the simple thought of hitting it from the back and getting to cum on your ass. the sight would just be too much for him to handle, making him get hard again far too soon and causing him to delay clean up or aftercare in order to get the both of you there once more.

soonyoung -

there would be zero thoughts in his head as he reached his high, meaning that he would not plan where he was going to cum. he'd just freestyle it, which would result in cumming on your ass/back most times. on days he was feeling particularly nasty, he'd play with his cum on your ass, groaning at his pretty the translucent substance looked against your skin.

wonwoo -

despite how reserved he may seem, he'd go absolutely insane over cumming on your ass/back. this would be his go-to for whenever you let him hit it raw and from behind. the mere thought of it as he reached his climax would have him rutting against you with extra strength, making it a little hard for him to even leave your warmth for long enough to cum on your ass.

jihoon -

enjoys the concept of it but not the mess. cleaning up his own cum from your back/ass was just something he was too lazy to do after the exhaustion he felt from fucking you altogether, so he'd probably save it only for special occasions in which his stamina was extra high.

seokmin -

on one side, i can see him thinking that cumming on your ass might be unseemly and disrespectful (he was a true gentleman after all!!) but on another side, i also see his carnal desires taking over while having sex with you, leading his brain to become mush and feel this sense of dominance as he marked you with his cum.

mingyu -

gives me the vibe like he's down for anything. he'd love ass shots but his favorite way to cum would be inside you. so basically, he'll take the chance to cum on your ass any day, but given the option he'd much rather cum inside you and eat out the remnants. a nasty man overall.

minghao -

he's a little bit of a wild card for me. i think he might find cumming on your ass too raunchy(?) and would rather cum in a way that left a bit less traces behind. however!!! whenever his mind was clouded by horniness, he would not even care about where he came as long as he got both of you there.

seungkwan -

i cant rlly picture him to be a huge fan of it but he's not against it!! he'd rather cum inside a condom while still inside you or having you finish him off in your mouth, etc rather than staining you with cum. it'd make him feel kinda mean and dirty, but sometimes his orgasm would just take over and he'd cum on your ass.

vernon -

yet another member who enjoys it but cannot bear to deal with the mess. after sex he just wants to lay down and hold you against him. he'd do minimal clean up and call it a day, which was something he couldn't really do if he made a mess all over you.

chan -

it'd make him feel a huge ego boost. almost as if you were just so fully his to the point of letting him stain you with his cum. he'd groan at the mere thought and become extremely whiney as he approached his high knowing he was about to finish on you in such a dirty way; a way in which only he would ever get to.

[fear-is-truth]

HEAD IN THE WALL

── tate langdon x reader | wc: 1.3k

⟣tags: angst ‧ toxic relationship ‧ implied su*icide ‧ death

a/n: english is not my first language, sorry if there’s any mistakes. not proofread as usual

Moving into the Murder House was meant to be a fresh start, a chance to leave behind the chaos and start anew. Your family needed it; you needed it. Little did you know, that change would be for the worse.

It all started with a boy.

You met him on a quiet afternoon, sitting on the edge of the brick garden wall. A solitary figure against the backdrop of the overgrown yard. Tate, he said his name was. Tate Langdon. He had a messy mop of blonde hair that framed a pair in dark brown eyes, eyes that seemed to see right through you.

He casually mentioned his admiration for Kurt Cobain, his hatred for his mother, and a peculiar interest in birds.

“Why birds?” you had asked,

“Because they can fly away when things get too crazy, I guess.”

There was a hint of wistfulness in his tone.

You smiled.

He smiled.

Initially, it was just casual conversations—small moments shared in the vast, empty rooms of the house. You were the new kid at school, isolated and friendless, while your parents were either busy working or fighting. Tate, however, was always there.

Gradually, these moments grew longer, deeper. Tate had a way of making you feel seen, really seen. You found yourself telling him things you hadn’t told anyone else— your fears, your dreams, the things that kept you up at night. And he listened, genuinely listened. In return, Tate shared bits and pieces of his own life, enough to make you feel connected to him, but never the full picture.

To you, he was a tragedy wrapped in a green and black striped sweater. There was a sadness to him, reminiscent of your own. It drew you in, like a moth to a flame.

It wasn’t the result of one grand, defining moment but a gradual accumulation of small, intimate instances— it began with the prolonged brush of his hand against yours, a fleeting touch that lingered just long enough to spark a flutter of warmth in your chest. The way his eyes would soften whenever they met yours, holding a gaze that seemed to communicate more than words ever could.

The first time he kissed you was a delicate, tentative exploration— a soft press of his lips against yours that was filled with a hesitant sweetness, as if he was testing the waters of your affection, worried that you wouldn’t reciprocate. The feelings that had started as a flicker now blazed into a full-fledged inferno.

You loved him, and he loved you. And that was the beginning and end of everything.

His love, you soon learned, was selfish. At first, it felt like devotion, but soon it began to feel like something else. Tate wanted you to himself, isolating from your family, from anything that wasn’t him. Every loving gesture was tainted with a selfish motive, a way to bind you to him and drown out the world beyond the 0.2 acres of property that was your new home.

Whenever you spent time away from him, he would accuse you of being distant and inattentive, twisting your natural need for independence into a personal betrayal. Each interaction with others, each glance or smile, was met with passive-aggressive comments and seething resentment. He subtly undermined your relationships, painting your family and friends as threats to your happiness, while insisting that you only needed each other.

Sometimes, you wonder if you even knew him at all. Cracks began to show, slowly revealing the darker layers you had subconsciously ignored. Each red flag you noticed was rationalised away, buried under affection and denial. But they were there, unmistakable if you had only dared to see them—Tate’s lack of empathy, and the unsettling pleasure he seemed to derive from the suffering of others.

At first, you dismissed it as dark humour, no problem in that. You convinced yourself that his casual cruelty was just a coping mechanism, a fucked up but harmless expression of his pain.

After all, you were a teenager in love, desperate to believe the best in the boy you loved.

The final revelation came in a way you could never have prepared yourself for—through an online search that you had hoped would answer your mounting questions. The truth about Tate Langdon, perpetrator of the 1994 Westfield massacre was laid bare before you, each news article, photograph, and testimony shattering a piece of your reality.

Your mind reeled, struggling to reconcile the boy you loved with the monster the world had condemned. You simply couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it.

When you confronted Tate, you were met with tears and remorse. His normally pale complexion was now a distressed, rosy pink, cheeks streaked with tears that you couldn’t discern as genuine sorrow or a manipulative ploy meant to win your sympathy.

The sight of him, so broken, was both heart-wrenching and infuriating. For a split second, you felt a surge of raw hatred.

How dare you cry?!

You wanted to scream at him, to slap him.

after everything you’ve done, you have no fucking right to these tears.

Anger and fear were overwhelming, yet the impulse to comfort him, to hold him close, remained unbearably strong. It was in that moment of raw realisation when it struck you— despite everything, you were terrified of letting him go. Despite everything, you still loved him.

With trembling fingers, you reached out, brushing away the tears that stained his cheeks, the act of tenderness feeling like a betrayal to yourself.

“I love you,” he sniffled, voice cracking. “Remember our promise? Forever and always.”

“Forever and always.”

If only.

As the days went by, you began to close off from everyone around you. You isolated yourself from your family, retreating further into the crevices of your own mind. They said you were depressed, a ghost of your former self. They took you to a doctor who prescribed medication in an attempt to help. Yet, the more they tried to fix you, the more you spiraled deeper into despair. The pills only numbed you, dulling the edges of your pain but never truly reaching the core of it.

Your thoughts grew darker, increasingly fixated on the sharp gleam of the razor you had stolen from your father, now hidden away in your desk drawer. The thought of using it, the thought of escaping the pain, became a morbid obsession. Each time you looked at it, the temptation grew stronger, a way out of the heart-shaped box Tate had inadvertently locked you in.

You woke up on the cold bathroom floor, with the worst headache ever.

The harsh, blinding circle of light on the ceiling above pierced through the haze, intensifying the throbbing pain behind your eyes. As your vision slowly came into focus, you felt Tate’s arms cradling you.

It was a comforting and familiar sensation; something you had missed the past few weeks when you had shut him out completely.

His face, streaked with tears and flushed with the strain of his own grief, hovered above you.

“You died… loved,” Tate whispered, his voice breaking as he gently wiped the tears that had gone cold on your cheek. You looked up at him, your vision blurred with the residual tears you didn’t remember shedding.

You supposed you did. You had died, not just your soul, which had withered away weeks ago, but your body as well.

Whether out of laziness or love, there was simply no more fight left in you. As you gazed up into his tearful eyes, you understood that he would always find you, always be a part of you.

“For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.” — The Prince of Verona (act 5, scene 3)

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[sytoran]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐘 / wandanat x dom!r

being a supersoldier had its perks, surely: like being paired up with the black widow and scarlet witch on a mission, and getting to fuck them on that very mission.

──── ♥ pairing. sub!wandanat x dom!supersoldier!reader

──── ♥ cont. smut (18+), a semblance of a plot verging on shameless smut, cunnilingus, so much cunnilingus oh god, strap-on usage, established wandanat, overstimulation, a lot of it, possessiveness, jealousy, squirting, breeding kink, daddy kink, choking kink

──── ♥ note. reader is said to be buff & masc, no gendered pronouns are used. there is use of a strap-on though ;) word count is 3k lol

masterlist / AO3 / join the taglist

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

being a super soldier had its perks, surely.

chosen by professor erskine in 1943 to be injected with the super soldier serum, gaining an enhanced physique, then using it to save the world countless times? yeah. it was nice. being stuck in ice for seventy years? not that nice.

you know what was nicer, though? 

the women that came along with it.

no, you weren’t objectifying them, in any way or sort. it was just validating, receiving that kind of attention you so craved. it only took something as simple as walking along the street to be approached by an eager woman, body language very telling in what her end goal was.

and who were you to deny them?

nights that ended in your bedroom and clothes ripped to shreds was a common occurrence. despite the, uh, animalistic tendencies of those racy one-night-stands, you were always sure to make her breakfast the next morning. it was almost an apology for their shredded underwear. 

bucky, your loving asshole of a best friend, called that habit of yours ‘whore behaviour’.

you called it the super soldier theory.

as much of a — politely speaking — whore, you could be, no matter how rough or desperate or hot or messy the events of the previous night were, you were damn sure to make it accumulate into an unforgettable, wet dream-inducing, masturbation-worthy one.

and what better to top that off with a pleasant breakfast? you’d known the empty feeling of waking up to a cold bed, so you’d make sure there was still some level of pleasantry and chivalry.

—

well, that fine theory of yours would come into action much sooner than expected.

“fuck,” you groaned into the pillow, as your alarm resounded around the empty apartment of your house. that day was a monday, and you were in no mood to go to the SHIELD compound to begin work.

that could mostly be blamed on the searing pain in your back that was the result of last night’s endeavours, but there was nothing wrong in a little sexual activity, was there? well, by little you meant a lot, but linguistics don’t matter.

in fact, nothing mattered when you were paired up with the scarlet witch and black widow on a new mission.

god bless nick fury.

you were currently huddled in SHIELD’s meeting room for pre-mission administrative bullshit you didn’t give a damn about. sorry, maria. 

the object of your attention was the black widow, in her skin-tight full-body black suit, showing off flattering curves, and the scarlet witch, in a low-cut top that revealed a generous cleavage. you weren’t staring, you really weren’t.

but when natasha moved to brush her lips against wanda’s ear, eyes however darting to you, and the way wanda responded in kind, glancing at you and giving you a little wink…… it was doing things to you.

it was almost as if they were putting on a show for you, in all your super-soldier, openly queer glory. 

you weren’t really taken aback by wanda and natasha's relationship, in all honesty, because the two never seemed to get enough of each other. what you were taken aback by, on the other hand, was their interest in you.

natasha and wanda had an inexplicable attraction towards you, only growing more touchy when they knew you were watching because of the knowledge that your eyes would inevitably find theirs. 

you had tried to ignore at first, the palpable sexual tension between the three of you, that only grew with the passing days, but soon it was all too much to be overlooked.

the day the dam broke, was the day of that very mission.

—

“target spotted,” wanda says in your earpiece, sharp and steady. the lilt of her sokovian accent wasn’t loss on your keen ears, and it made you swoon just a little. 

the mission was a clear-cut one, straightforward and supposedly simple. secure the target, steal the harddrive, export the information, then out. you didn’t really understand why SHIELD needed two of their best agent and two avengers for this, but maybe they just wanted to play it safe.

the destination of the mission was a high-end fancy banquet hall, thus you were all dressed to class.

wanda was dolled up in a velvet green dress, matching her eye-color. it went off her shoulders, exposing the sleek collarbone and accentuating the curve of her breast. the slit of the dress ended dangerously high on her right thigh, showing off bare skin. natasha was wrapped up in a eulalia red satin dress, downright sinful in the way it hugged the curve of her breasts and her hips. the backless dress was a pleasant treat for your eyes.

not to be arrogant, but you think you didn’t look too bad yourself, what with a tailored black suit — the fabric hugged your broad shoulders leading a smaller waist, and was tight-fitting at the arms, showing off the curve of impressive biceps. the collared shirt underneath was unbuttoned low enough to expose a tattoo, that could only be deciphered upon closer examination.

"bald guy, navy blue suit. chatting up a blonde girl on the left side of the pillar with the painting of a ballerina.” 

upon wanda’s jurisdiction, your eyes find the target easily. you also don’t miss the copious amonuts of bodyguards stationed throughout the banquet hall. 

“we have eyes on him,” natasha’s voice in your ear now. “y/n and i will distract him. wanda, you get the hard disc drive, which is conveniently placed in his pocket.” wanda voices her agreement.

suddenly, you feel a hand on the middle of your back, and you almost jump. it’s natasha, and if your eyes ever travelled to her breasts, no they didn’t.

natasha loops her arms around you, hands interlocking behind your neck. she smiles serenely. you gulp at the close proximity between the two of you. 

“what-”

“kiss me.”

before you can lift a finger to react, before you can say that there’s people here, natasha pulls you in for a kiss, and an explosion of fireworks erupt in your stomach.

god, it’s so surreal, the feel of her lips on yours. no, they’re not velvety soft or perfectly unblemished, but the fact that it’s natasha, delicate yet desperate, makes you want to die.

realizing that this might be the only chance you ever have with the black widow, even if it is just a mission, you chase her lips in a flurry. your left hand goes to cup at her waist possesively, just knowing it would rile up the target who was most definitely watching, and your other hand wraps itself around her neck.

natasha lets out an airy sound — you selfishly hope that it was your doing, not just a play for the audience — and she tugs at your collar, pulling herself closer to you. despite being somewhat in the corner of the hall, the quickly-gained attention is a little unsettling.

you move to break apart slowly, before natasha’s fingers find your belt loops and her lips are on yours once again. she moves with a goal in mind, this time, hot breaths and tongue flooding your senses. 

you know that this means something more than a mission, but that thought is buried somewhere far in your depleting conscience. you can only hope that wanda takes longer to retrieve the harddrive.

fighting to return natasha’s renewed fervour, you greedily grab at her breasts, playing with the mounds of flesh as she breathes into your kiss. 

before you know it, natasha is dragging you up the winding stairs, through the crowds of judgemental whispers and wide-eyed stares.

“what about- what about the target,” you ask, helplessly and breathlessly, struggling to find a semblance of order. it’s hard, when natasha’s ass is right in your line of vision. 

you’re shoved into the elevator of the posh building. you’re about to question why on earth the security guards aren’t doing anything, before the redhead is kissing you again.

“shut up and fuck me,” she pants into the kiss, pressing a random floor of the building. you finally oblige, knowing that this was a one-in-a-million chance.

oh, fuck the mission.

you ruck her skirt up, pushing her bare ass against the cold metal of the elevator. natasha squirms in your grasp, and desperately rub your palm against her cunt. she grinds against it like its sweet solace.

“more,” natasha pants into your ear, and you shove a hand up into her panties in the moving elevator, any semblance of respect and public courtesy long gone.

once the elevator door dings open, natasha drags you out, leading you into one of the rooms by your tie. you try to grasp at any part of her you can reach, but she stays cleverly out of reach.

the door slams shut, and suddenly you’re face-to-face with wanda maximoff. 

“what the fuck is happening,” you breathe, feeling natasha take off your suit jacket from behind. “am i- am i dreaming?”

“oh baby, we’re a lot better than whatever dreams you’ve been having, i can assure you,” wanda says casually, red tendrils of magic swirling around her fingers then around your body. you’re knocked into the bed, forced to sit at the edge.

wanda lifts a finger to trace a long, red nail across the purple hickey on your neck from last night. you clench under her languid touch, and wanda hums in visible appreciation at your bulging muscles.

"i could do better than that," she purrs through sharp teeth, grazing over the faded hickey. 

you hiss through kissed teeth, frustrated at being unable to move your limbs. as a super-soldier, it was almost embarrassing to be rendered useless so easily, but thankfully the knowledge that wanda was just about the most powerful being in the universe was consolation. 

“what about the mission?” the question barely leaves your lips before wanda promptly sinks her teeth into your flesh between the neck and your shoulder.

“calm down, sweetheart,” natasha purrs, undoing the buttons of your shirt. “we’ve taken care of it already.” wanda waves the harddrive in front of you, before tossing it to the side. 

you don’t find the heart in you to question her. wanda straddles you, and when she kisses you, you kiss back. natasha’s kiss from earlier meshes into this one, and you can taste them, simultaneously. it drives you mad, almost.

wanda lets out a moan, and you take advantage of her moment of weakness to spin the two of you around. you press wanda into the position you were previously, while you get down in front of her, your face at the same level as her pussy. you grin up at her.

while wanda had pinned you down with her magic, you had pinned her down with the sheer force of your enhanced physique. spreading her legs open, you murmur, “two can play this game. or three, i suppose.”

natasha lets out a humoured bark of laughter. “hm, you two have your fun. i’ll have my turn later.”

wasting little time in getting what you wanted, you helped wanda undo her dress, letting it fall to the floor. ripping off her panties with your teeth, natasha let out an impressed whistle while wanda turned as red as her hair.

you used your thumbs to spread her glistening folds open, allowing you to see just about everything. wanda whined, at being all spread out, your hungry eyes never leaving cunt.

"hurry up," she gasps, jerking when you let out a slow exhale, warm air making her clit throb. 

it’s all good fun at first, wanda teasing you while you lap at her cunt hungrily. she’s playing with your hair, nails scraping at your neck. she reaches her first orgasm embarassingly quickly.

it’s only after another one that wanda realizes, once you’ve latched your mouth onto her divine pussy, you’re not taking it off anytime soon.

“baby,” she asks hesitantly, breaking off into a moan when your tongue finds her stiff clit.

you bury your head deeper, letting out a low hum in response. the vibrations send tingles all up her stimulated cunt, and wanda jerks, clenching around you.

“baby,” wanda pleads, airy and hazy. you let out a guttaral sound from the back of your throat, the pit in your stomach burning as she moans your name. you respond in kind, shoving your tongue in a little deeper. wanda screams your name.

she tasted too good, too sweet, too pretty. wanda’s overstimulated cunt is positively throbbing, uncontrollable gushes of white cream going all over your face. you lap it all up, gripping onto her thighs.

“daddy, stop,” she whimpers, trying to yank your head away. the way that title falls from her lips is divine. but you’re adamant in getting what you want, so you ignore her pleads and go back to devouring her hungry pussy. god, you couldn’t get enough of her taste.

wanda has tears in her eyes, unable to form anything but moans and shrieks as you bring her over the edge again and again. throughout the minutes, you never let down, only picking up your pace with each sweet cry of your name.

there was only one way to abuse your super-soldier stamina, right?

god, she was so wet, her pussy so drenched it goes into her ass, then staining the sheets and soaking through the mattress. you don’t fuckin’ stop, can’t stop, only craving to break her and make her ascend.

it’s only after several more earth-shattering orgasms that natasha roughly yanks you away, having had enough of your fun. your eyes are defiant, flashing, until they lock with natasha’s.

and boy, was that a sight you’d remember.

the normally green eyes of natasha were darkened into a sea of black, pupils so dilated you swore you could see through them, through the lust and the longing. trailing your eyes south, the hand shoved up her panties was now completely soaked — god, had she managed to fit four fingers in there? 

her breathing was ragged, the only semblance of normality being the widow-hardened grip on your jaw. you look up, letting her see just how damp your face is, from completely devouring wanda. 

“it’s my turn, babe,” natasha says through a shaky breath, raising an eyebrow in a challenge. to your surprise, she throws a strap-on at you, bright red. it’s far larger than what you would expect from her.

nonetheless, you smirk, more than happy to oblige. 

but first, you casually carry the passed-out wanda to settle into the left side of the bed. you place a chaste kiss on her forehead, as natasha’s eyes twinkle in amusement.

“don’t try to play the gentleman card, after you fucked her brains out.” natasha comments with a lazy grin. you shake your head, returning that grin in kind. “gotta reputation to uphold,” you quip, letting natasha unbuckle your pants.

your black boxers are damp, to no one’s surprise — wanda’s moans were surely something. natasha trails her hand over it, licking her lips, then lays down on the bed next to wanda, conveniently spreading her legs.

“uphold your reputation then,” natasha laughs, humming in appreciation at your visibly aroused expression.”treat a lady right.”

you put on the strap-on in record timing, not missing the way natasha’s eyes are on your hands as they fly expertly over the harness, fastening it in place with experienced haste. 

“on your hands and knees. face the wall.” you command, and natasha obeys. she uses her hands to spread her ass, teasing you. your eyes darken.

before natasha can let the witty remark slip from the tip of her tongue, you’re easing the silicone cock into her pussy from behind. mounting her like a rabbit in heat, you’re soon rutting into her.

“fuck,” natasha cries, clenching around you, so tight and hot and wet and delicious.

“pretty girl,” you growl mindlessly, letting the cock slide in and out of her hungry pussy. your eyes burn, muscles straining as you use natasha like a little rag doll, all her supposed witty teasing gone by the time you’re done with her.

it was so enticing and entrapping, the way her pussy wraps around your faux cock, how she was pulling away from the overstimulation, yet pulling you in with desperation.

screams and whines of your name bounce of the walls, until you’re heftily sure that the entire banquet hall can still hear her.

after minutes, or hours — no, time was a social construct and irrelevant when it came to mindblowing sex — you finally stopped. even your supersoldier physique was sore, so how on earth natasha and wanda had coped stumped you. 

the room reeked of sex and sweat and cum, as your brain was still catching up on what on earth had actually fuckin’ happened.

and yet, you don’t think you could get enough of them, not even with your head buried in wanda’s pussy for an eternity, or your plastic cock shoved so far up natasha it kissed her womb.

so it didn’t come as a surprise, when the black widow and the scarlet witch woke up in your apartment the next morning, completely naked, the only trace of your presence being the wafting smell of pancakes in the kitchen.

the super soldier theory strikes again.

taglist: @natashamaximoff69 @ohsugar-honey-iced-tea @fayhar @bibliophilicbi @screechcat @rowanyaboats @nahnahnahwhat @the-night-owl-blr @nemowevoli @wannabe-fic-reader @natsxwife @wandsmxmff @enanna-h @gay4lizzie @jemilyswhor3 @manyfandomsfanvergent @scarsw1fe @jlsammy23 @gingerninja-93 @spongebobs-tie1 @kiyozoe6778 @Lovebelt @girllcver @lexscursed26 @godsfavouritelesbiann @bvrxbre @zekespisshair @alcolanic @ezay @forthelesbians @wlwfanfictionss @forthelesbians @cowxpoke @supaheroine @saqua14 @olsensnpm @33-mrvl @gay4ols3n @knellyc30 @eatkobi @stitch26gp @cqllarbqne @lovelyy-moonlight @diannaswhore @wandaromanoff69

wheww this was a ridee. really hope yall enjoyed it :) reblog pretty please? (begging like a bottom? yes i am)

masterlist / AO3 / join the taglist

[hippopotamusdreamer]

Guys Night

genre. F, AU

warnings. drinking, cursing (not at anyone specific)

additional notes. Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns, Lee Know as Minho, I.N as Jeongin

pairing. nonidol!Han Jisung x Reader

w.c. 1.4K

synopsis. It was guy's night, so why's your phone ringing??

Kpop Masterlist

Fandom Masterlist

You were in the middle of your nightly routine. Comfy pajamas on, hair up in a messy bun, headband in place to keep your baby hairs from getting in the way. Your phone, next to you on the bathroom counter, played your music of choice for the evening. All in all, it was peaceful in your apartment since your boyfriend was out having a guys night with his friends.

He’d wanted you to join them, insisting it would be fine if you tagged along. But you declined his many offers.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“You sure you don’t want to go with us?” He had asked as he sat at the dinner table to keep you company. He was already dressed to go out, his shoes the only thing waiting for him by the entrance.

At the time, you had been cooking dinner for yourself since he was about to leave and they had planned to eat out together first before going to the club.

You chuckled in your spot by the stove since this was at least the fourth time he’d asked you that day. Stirring the soup in the pot once more and then turning the dial off, you moved to him. Stepping up to him, you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck.

“Yes, I’m sure babe,” you told him with a smile on your face.

“But you know the guys wouldn’t mind you coming with. They really like you,” He tried to hide his pout as his arms came around your waist to hold you, too. One of his hands slid under your shirt to rest on your lower back gently, a habit that he’d had ever since you first started dating. When you had asked about it once, he claimed it helped to ground him, that you grounded him.

“It’s been three years Ji, I sure hope they’d like me by now,” you said with amusement in your voice as you gave him a peck on the lips.

It took you two more times to reassure Han that you were definitely ok with not going tonight. It’s not that you didn’t want to go with him, you just had a date with a glass of wine and your favorite tv show program. The first episode of the new season had just released and you were so ready to gush about it with Felix’s girlfriend on facetime as you both watched it together.

When Chan and Minho pulled up you had to practically push him out the door.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

That was about three hours ago now.

You hated the cliffhanger that the episode left on and you were not ready for the writers to bring back the female love interest from the second season but you digressed. The next episode would come out next week and you could not wait.

Currently, you danced in your spot in front of your bathroom mirror and sink as you scrubbed your face with the foam cleanser. Careful to not get any into your eyes as you moved the facial scrub around. You were in the middle of rinsing your face off when your music cut out and your phone began to ring.

“Fuck,” you let out, eyes closed tightly, the faucet still running.

You wiped your eye enough to be able to slightly open it and find your phone, blinking a few times. You bumped into your bottle of cleanser and something fell to the floor in process, too. Just as you swiped to answer, the residue on your face caught you off guard and you cried out in pain.

“Shit!” you hissed out as you closed your eye again. “Hello?”

“Y/N-ie?” a voice was heard on the other end of the call, the music, though muffled, was blasting in their background and now in your bathroom.

“Seungminnie?” you responded as you go to finish rinsing your face off and wash your eye out. Looking in the mirror, you looked down at the floor to see what you had dropped when scrambling for your phone. Face dripping in water and wetting your shirt as a result.

“You ok?” He asked, concern laced in his tone.

“Yeah,” sighing, you leaned down to grab the hand towel you had been looking for. “Yeah, I just got cleanser in my eye. What’s up? How’s guys night going?”

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you noticed your eye was now red and slightly irritated. You frown as you began to put everything away and took off your headband.

“It’s going good…”

“…But…?” you questioned, sensing a but was coming as you moved on from the bathroom and back into your bedroom. Picking up Jisung’s discarded clothes from earlier, you placed his jacket up on the hook that was next to yours.

“But Hannie hyung is really drunk and Minho hyung told me to call you to come pick him up.”

“Oh lord,” you gave a slight laugh as you placed the call on speakerphone. You grabbed your jacket and put it on over your pjs. “Alright, is his phone dead? I have his location if it’s not.”

“Uh…let me check.”

You could hear Seungmin walk to where you assumed your boyfriend was. They were probably outside; it would explain why the music was muffled when you first answered the call. Also so Ji could get some fresh air and away from any temptations to drink more.

In all the time you’ve known him, Han Jisung was never one to hold his alcohol well.

“Hyung, let me see your phone,” Seungmin could be heard in the distance now.

‘He must not have his phone by his face,�� you thought.

“No! I’m waiting,” you could hear the slurred words of your drunk boyfriend from even your end of the phone. You tried to fight the smile that wanted to make it’s way onto your face.

“Waiting for what?” Seungmin questioned, exasperation clear as day in his tone. Or in this case, night.

“Y/N-ie, I called her, see! She’s said she’s gonna come get m-e,” Was Han’s retort with a cute hiccup at the end.

You most certainly did not call him though. Furrowing your brows in confusion, you backed out of the call screen to check your call logs. Yet you had no missed calls on your end. Who did he call???

Looking down at your phone, you could hear Seungmin say, “Hyung, that’s the calculator app. You wrote 8008.”

With those words ringing in your ears, you snorted and the smile you were fighting broke through. Calling down the line to Seungmin, you yelled, “I’m on my way!” as you hung up and opened the kakao taxi app on your phone.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

As you arrived in the bar district, you asked the taxi driver to wait for you.

He must have taken pity on you in your pajamas because he surprisingly agreed to. The both of you getting out, him to take a smoke break and you to wrangle up your boyfriend.

It didn’t take long to find him and his friends since you immediately spotted Jeongin grinning wildly and waving for you.

“Noona! You made it!” The flush on his face from the alcohol was a dead giveaway to how much the youngest of the group drank. “You’re a little underdressed though.”

“I’m not here to stay. I’m picking up something to-go,” you said with an eye roll and a smile.

At that, the both of you turned to where your boyfriend stood with Seungmin and Felix. Jisung was concentrating really hard as he stared at the phone in his hand. A look of anguish slowly morphing over his features.

“Guys, I think the screen froze,” he pouted, his cheeks puffing out more so than usual. “My baby hasn’t moved once…”

Both Seungmin and Felix looked down at Han’s phone.

“Hyung, that’s your wallpaper,” Felix laughed out, equally as red as Jeongin.

Walking up to the trio, Han did a double take as he saw you approaching. Lovesick look replacing the agony on his face when he realized you were really there.

“Babe!” Immediately attaching himself to you, Han’s hand once again slipped beneath your clothes to touch at your lower back. He rested his chin on your shoulder as he relaxed in your grip, breathing you in.

“Hi, baby. Let’s get you home ok?” You said softly to him as you pat his back gently. His friends smiling at the cute display before them.

“Oh, mine or yours?”

“Ours.”

“Oh, wow!” He said in wonder as he pulled away to look at you with the stars in his eyes.

a/n. Got this idea from this Silly Drunken Prompt list by @creativepromptsforwriting

Tag list:

@elizalabs3

This in no way reflects the actual persons involved/based in this fic, nor their actual character. This is purely fiction.

© hippopotamusdreamer, est 2024. all rights reserved.

[metalandmagi]

Underrated Sports Anime Recommendations!

In honor of the summer Olympics, I wanted to make a rec list for some underappreciated sports anime. Obviously we all know the popular stuff: Blue Lock, Kuroko, Hajime no Ippo, Ace of Diamond, Slam Dunk, Haikyuu, Free, Yuri On Ice, Yowamushi Pedal, Skate the Infinity etc. But there are lots of great sports anime out there that go completely unnoticed. And who knows, you might find a new sport to get into. Just FYI, these are all on the newer side, since most of the older sports anime I’ve seen are the popular ones.

I think a big reason that a lot of these have largely gone ignored is because they focus more on interpersonal drama between characters and what is going on in their home lives, as opposed to a bigger focus on the technicalities of the sport itself. Food for thought. Anyway, let's get started:

Stars Align (Hoshiai no Sora): Stars Align is about a boys high school soft tennis team (not to be confused with regular tennis) who are constantly getting out performed by their girls team. Desperate to get people to take the boys team seriously and get results, team captain Touma tries to get a new transfer student Maki Katsuragi to join. Maki eventually agrees ... .on the condition that Touma pays him and covers any club expenses. From there we discover the messy family drama going on in each boy’s life, and I just love all of them okay? They’re my precious angel babies, and sure I had some problems with the show’s pacing at the end, but I still love them and I want another season!!!! 😭

Oblivion Battery (Boukyaku Battery): There are a myriad of baseball animes out there, but this one made an impression on me. Catcher Kaname Kei and pitcher Kiyomine Haruka are a badass, ace duo who dominated the field and made a fearsome reputation for themselves all throughout middle school. They seemed to be completely unstoppable…until Kaname (the brains behind the operation) lost his memory, became a total goofball, and the two ended up going to a no name high school with no real baseball team. So of course, we end up getting a rag-tag team together full of ex-baseball players with dramatic backstories who all help train Kaname up again. I love Kaname and Haru’s friendship, and the cast was very well rounded, each with their own interesting attributes to add to the team.

Re: Main: If I had a nickel for every sports anime where the main character used to be an unstoppable badass until he lost his memory, I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice. Yeah, it’s exactly the same as Oblivion Battery, but with water polo and the main character isn’t as much of a goofball. I liked the characters, but I wished we focused a little more on the water polo side of things, since it’s not exactly a dime a dozen sport for an anime.

Mou Ippon: A girls high school judo anime from 2023 that nobody fucking watched! When former judo enthusiast Michi Sonoda enters high school, she wants to put judo behind her so she can focus on finding a boyfriend and enjoying her school life. However, after Michi suffers a particularly humiliating defeat in a match against her the prodigy Towa Hiura, the two end up going to the same high school together. Naturally, Michi can’t just quit now that her rival is going to the same school! Cue the judo team shenanigans. This show is so down to earth and realistic. It’s 100% not a “cute girls doing cute things” anime where the girls are all blobs of moe that talk in annoying voices. They have different body types, different motivations, and different styles of combat. It didn’t blow me out of the water, but I liked it way more than I thought I would.

And speaking of different body types…

Hinomaru Sumo: That’s right, it’s a high school sumo wrestling anime. AND IT’S HYPE AS FUCK! You know how in Haikyuu, Hinata is short, and it’s a big deal because middle blockers are always tall? Well this is that multiplied by a thousand, because there’s a minimum weight to sumo wrestling, and our main character Hinomaru Ushio is definitely below it. But he’s not going to let that stop him from spreading his passion for sumo and becoming the High School Yokozuna, the strongest wrestler in high school tournaments…because becoming the Yokozuna is his only chance at going pro with his small stature. It’s impossible to watch this anime without feeling fired up!

Run With The Wind (Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru): Kakeru Kurahara, a former track star, is looking for a place to live after losing his apartment deposit at a mahjong parlor. Luckily, he runs into Haiji Kiyose, a boy who goes to his university, who offers him a spot at his apartment. Little does Kakeru know, Haiji’s apartment is full of other university students who are all members of the Kansei University track team! The story follows the quietly devious Haiji as he tries to get the boys to become a nationally recognized team by running the Hakone Ekiden, an extremely long and grueling relay that none of the boys have ever trained for. This is one of my favorite sports anime ever. Don’t get it twisted, I hate running. I don’t like doing it, and I don’t like watching it in real life, but this anime had me in a chokehold. Animation? Amazing. Characters? A+. Music? Perfect. It’s hilarious. It’s relatable. It’s heartwarming. One of the absolute best sports anime out there.

Welcome To The Ballroom: It’s a motherfucking ballroom dancing anime, and if you didn’t think ballroom dancing could be hype as shit, THINK AGAIN! The animation is great, and I never realized how much actually goes into the world of ballroom dancing. There’s not really much more I can say. High school boy discovers the cutthroat world of competitive ballroom dance. Drama ensues. Just ignore everyone’s oddly long necks.

And speaking of dancing…

Dance Dance Danseur: Okay, this one isn’t quite in a sports competition setting, but I still consider it a sports anime. All his life, Junpei Murao has suppressed his interest in ballet, choosing to follow his father’s path for him in the more “manly” martial art of Jeet Kune Do instead. But when he realizes the girl he likes is a highly skilled ballerina, he hardly says no when she recruits him to train at her mom’s ballet studio. The show follows Junpei as he must balance these two worlds and become a ballet master while dealing with the divisive image of “masculinity.” My only real critique is that Junpei is kind of annoying, and I was actually much more invested in the other characters. There is a big message about the horrors of the competitive ballet world that I didn't think it would dive into.

Overtake: Another show from 2023 that was terribly overlooked. In this anime, we follow disgraced photographer Kouya Madoka, who falls in love with the fast paced world of Formula 4 racing after watching high schooler Asahina Haruka. However, Madoka failed to realize that Haruka’s racing crew, Komaki Motors, is drowning in bills and underfunded as hell. So of course when he finds out, Madoka takes it upon himself to support Komaki Motors himself and get Haruka a place on the podium. This was such a great drama! Each character is so fleshed out and completely relatable. Even the antagonists! Hell, especially the antagonists. There is a great balance of drama and humor that make this feel like it could easily be a Hollywood movie. The longer you watch, the more you root for Komaki Motors and want to see everyone succeed. Madoka is best boy!

And last but certainly not least…

Tsurune: In this anime, we follow Minato Narumiya, a former kyudo (Japanese martial art that involves archery) prodigy who wanted to quit the sport after an incident in a middle school tournament. However, after encountering a mysterious archer one day, Minato ends up joining his high school Kyudo team, despite his fear of failing at the sport again. It’s Free with archery, except there are also girls on the team! It has so many good themes about perseverance and found family and getting in your own head. And there is a massive amount of homosexual undertones. Not to mention it’s made by Kyoto Animation, so you know it’s one of the most beautifully animated shows I’ve ever seen.

I just wanted to add a few honorable mentions too…

Cheer Danshi: A university boys cheerleading anime. I had problems with the pacing, but I still had fun with it.

Ryman’s Club: An odd blend of office anime with a badminton anime. I really liked this, but it’s sort of half sports anime, half The Office. But it’s the only thing on this list that features actual working adults and not students.

Megalo Box: I don’t know if it counts as “underappreciated” but this was a fantastic show all around. It’s a gritty, down to earth, sort of sci-fi take on the fictional sport of Megalo Boxing (boxing with enhanced mechanical arms). 

Ping Pong the Animation: Look, I’m going to be honest. I didn’t really like this show very much, but apparently I’m the odd one out because this is an underground favorite of the sports anime community, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t include it. It’s one part ping pong, two parts character drama.

Birdie Wing: Golf Girls’ Story: I couldn’t leave this out of the list. It’s the wildest golf anime you could ever imagine. There are lesbians. There are snake ladies. There are underground golfing yakuza. No amount of explanation can do it justice. Grab an age appropriate beverage and watch it.

[rafedaddy01]

Summary: your parent’s go out of town and decide to come back early, what they find leaves them shocked..

Warnings: name calling

-

Your parents have been gone on a work trip for almost a week now. They are supposed to come back tomorrow night. You’ve been hooking up with your dad’s best friend, Rafe Cameron.

Rafe Cameron was a highly respected man in Outer Banks. He came from money and he’s been in business with your dad for quite sometime now.

The two of you started your affair after you started working at your dad’s company as an intern. It was slight flirting and casual side eyes at first. But then you’d end up working late and so would he, which resulted in him fucking you against his desk.

Rafe was twice your age, but that didn’t matter to you. You’ve always had a crush on him. Whenever he’d come over for dinner and bring some slut with him you’d feel a fire burning inside you, you wanted to be the one sitting next to him.

Now you’ve got what you wanted, even if it was in secret. At least you got to fuck him every night.

It was 9:00pm when rafe got a text from you informing him that you had the house all to yourself. It didn’t take long for Rafe to be knocking on your door. His jaw went slack and his dick throbbed in his pants as you opened the door wearing nothing but a satin black robe that ended just mid thigh, your cleavage exposed and hair flowing beautifully down your back.

“That was quick” you smiled as you invited him in.

“I hope you didn’t start without me” Rafe smirked as he walked into your house and discarded of his suite jacket, laying it on the backside of the couch before taking his loafers off and coming over to you.

You sighed as he wrapped his big arms around your waist and pulled you closer. “I tried, couldn’t get myself to cum. Why do you think your here”

Rafes grin spread at your snarky comment. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips.

It quickly escalated as he pushed your back against the front door and kissed down your neck, leaving slight marks. “We-we should probably go upstairs” you panted as Rafes hands began to roam up your naked thighs.

“We should” he whispered into your ear as he pecked kisses on your neck making you melt even more.

He pulled back and admired your blushed cheeks and slightly messy hair, “after you” he extended his hand towards the stairs and you pushed yourself off the door and started walking towards the stairs.

Rafe was right behind you, loving the way your ass jiggled as you moved.

But just before you could step on the first stair the front door opened.

Your head turned to come face to face with your father, your mother not too far behind.

Your heart rate picked up, you looked at rafe and he looked like he’d just seen a ghost. He stood still, looking your father in the eyes.

“Y/n?” Your mother spoke up, “w-what is this?” She scrunched her eyebrows as she looked at your attire, noticing the messy hair and slight marks up your neck.

“Daddy, I can’t explain” you pushed past rafe and walked up to your father.

Your dad dropped his luggage onto the ground and strides towards rafe, not even batting an eye for you.

“Daddy, please!” You felt tears start to form as your dad’s anger and betrayal got the best of him.

He landed a punch across Rafes face. You knew Rafe was aggressive. You’ve heard and seen first hand what a hot head he is. You know that he could kill your father. But when you looked at him he looked defeated. He knew he messed up. Sleeping with his best friends daughter whose more than half his age was wrong, but he didn’t feel that it was wrong. He was starting to catch real feelings for you, he’s never felt like this about anyone. You weren’t just another slut he’d bring to dinner. He was falling for you, and he hoped that your father would understand.

“Sir, I- I love her sir”

“Daddy, don’t. I love him”

You and rafe both spoke up at the same time.

Your father turned to look at you and the look in his eyes told you everything. He was disgusted, betrayed, hurt, angry.

“Get out.” He spoke to you sternly. “Both of you! Get out.”

“You little whore! Fucking my best friend who’s twice your age. You don’t love him! Your just a little slut-“ you gasped as Rafes fist smacked into your dads jaw.

“She’s not a whore!” Rafe screamed at your father as he watched his body hit the ground. “She’s your daughter, and I love her”

The tears were streaming down your face as you looked at your mother and saw the same look in her eyes, disgust. You knew she wouldn’t speak up for you, she was afraid of your father.

You ran towards rafe and wrapped yourself around him, crying into his neck as he held onto you tight and glared at your father who layed on the floor holding his bruised jaw.

“Shh, don’t worry princess. We’re getting you out of here.”

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0

[italianpersonwithashippersheart]

The Importance of Tone

If you want more info on Tone there is this video (Trope Talk. Tone Armor from OSP) that speaks about Tone Armor which is not 1 to 1 applicable to BLs but informs the general idea of what I mean when I say consistent Tone and establishing/breaking it.

What the 4 Minutes finale and Kidnap and Jack And Joker all airing close together taught me, is that there is nothing more important for a show (especially a bl and bl adjecent shows) then nailing it's tone and sticking to it.

@waitmyturtles post about the four minutes finale made me think finalize my thoughts on this.

Establishing a tone at the start is going to tell the audience what to expect. If the show starts light and unserious like Kidnap and Jack and Joker. Then the audience can expect to turn their brain off and enjoy the romance. If the show starts Serious with Big Themes or establishing a show as a Messy Queer show like 4 Minutes and Only Friends then your audience is going to turn their brain on and expect you to follow that tone all the way to end.

It's possible to successfully break the tone, but one you have to do it with intention and two (and this is the most important part) is super fucking difficult to go from serious and dark to light and unserious. A light and unserious show can go more serious and deeper (Pit Babe did that for me, it started with unserious show but it did end up with some nice serious themes and a tinge of bittersweetness at the end). But a show that starts serious and messy queer show is going to have a fucking hell of an impossible time moving into light and unserious romance especially if you only do that at the end.

Not saying that serious shows can't have light moments or a happy ending just that it needs to do more work into going in that direction and that those light moments and happy ending need to feel like they come as a result of the narrative. As an example look at The Full Pornographer series. That one has a happy ending eventually (if you watch it all) and feels earned and like it doesn't break the tone the story establish.

Another thing that clicked for me (thanks to this post by @negrowhat) is that you can't rely on actor chemestry to sell the romance and the tone shift/break into said romance as focus. Because chemestry is super subjective for exemple I personally think Jes and Bible have great phsyical chemestry but not a lot of romantic chemestry. And if the writing is not there to back up the romantic tone then you have a chunk of your audience who is just not going to buy the romance.

A show that has a good solid writing is going to win people over even if they don't see the chemestry. For example for me I didn't see KristSingto chemestry in Sotus. It just wasn't there for. BUT the writing sold me on their love story. Sure it's not my favorite BL but I can say that the writing of their romance is really good and I do have the wish to try again with that (and Be My Favorite) and see if I can get more into it emotionally. Because the writing holds up. I would never do that with Great Tyme because the writing is just not there.

[beelzeballing]

actually i dont think ive posted my thoughts on ofmd s2 overall here yet have i?

ok here goes: i think it had incredibly high highs, and at some parts i genuinely enjoyed it more than i did the first season, episode 6 being peak imo. however, it had equally abysmal lows with some glaring writing-, tone- and pacing issues that all came to a head in the finale.

i once read someone say that, if you ever feel like a finale ruined the whole story, maybe you should take another look at the story. there were most likely cracks and problems all along, and the finale did nothing besides dashing the hope that these would perhaps be addressed later. very rarely do genuinely well written stories go completely off the rails in the finale and ruin the whole thing.

i think this is applicable here in some ways, SPECIFICALLY in regards to edward. good god edward was a MESS this season, and it's so sad because i loved the starting point! the kraken era was absolutely terrifying and iconic as FUCK but... they shouldn't have leaned so hard into the drama and trauma of it all. don't get me wrong, i loved that it did. it's one of my favorite parts of the season and i'm so glad we got it. but if they wanted this arc to work with the overarching plot as they wrote it, they would've had to lighten up the tone here CONSIDERABLY. had they played the kraken era for comedy then sure! edward's bad youtuber apology would've been funny. his fast redemption would've been less jarring. the lack of consequences less disturbing. but as it stands in the show, this arc is too dark to function with the later episodes.

i feel like they wanted to have their cake and eat it too here. they wanted the gritty drama of ed coming off the hinges entirely but also didn't want to deal with the aftermath of such a heavy arc in their silly pirate romcom. be that due to time constraints and budget cuts or because they were simply unwilling to, doesn't really matter in the end. the result is the same either way: a very tonally messy season with some accidentally troubling implications regarding abuse.

and mentioning troubling implications regarding abuse; izzy. my poor, poor izzy... his arc was absolutely glorious. i liked izzy the second he showed up in s1 and i was absolutely EATING this season up in that regard. and i think in this case, they genuinely did fuck it all up in the finale with that one stupid choice:

choosing to kill izzy was the DUMBEST thing they couldve done here.

ive talked about this over and over and over again. ive reblogged so many meta posts. and still i am left absolutely flabbergasted by how stupid of a decision this was. the fridging, playing at the fallen woman trope, killing the beating heart of the season and the character who delivers what is essentially a thesis statement, killing off the character whose arc is about coming to terms with his disability, having him die in edward's arms, comforting him and apologizing after an entire season of finding community and love outside of edward, the absolutely godawful pacing of it all, the extremely easy and obvious solution of just having IZZY become the new captain of the revenge to mirror s1 and hammer home how much he has developed since then in one go... i could go on. and i have. it was a stupid writing decision, completely fucked the tone and pacing of the finale and took away attention and time from things that really would've deserved a better wrap up (lucius and black pete deserved better)

now. the whole prince ricky & zheng plot line... yeah that shit sucked ass, sorry. they bit off more than they could chew here. i honestly think those are the arc words of this season:

✨️ bit off more than they could chew ✨️

right off the bat: i think he was good as a concept. bringing in a foil for stede who just doesn't Get It as stede does could've made for very good comedy and drama (and to be fair there is some of that). but that shit got away from them extremely quickly. nothing about how he's implemented past his first episode works, and i think this is very specifically because he's mostly played as the comic relief in his debut episode. making this completely bumbling fool, who gets his nose hacked off on his first job, the main villain of your entire season is... definitely a choice. idk. he didn't work for me at all.

ok wow mentioning shit getting away from the writers. this definitely got away from me. this was supposed to be a short lil post. well. i guess tl;dr i loved this season but jesus christ there was a lot wrong with it. if you want to hear more thoughts. ask box is open. be my guest. i have more to say so even if you dont ask i might add more to this at some point but im tired and have work tmrw.

[loosingmoreletters]

For the ask game and because I’m soooo curious about what you’ll do with this: best friends sibling au for wangxian

The way I needed a second to parse this prompt. It’s best friend’s sibling, right?

Wei Wuxian is smart, the kind of smart that meant you either went down in the history books for revolutionizing cultivation or died trying. He knows that most people assume he’s going to die trying in the attempt. He’s fairly sure his mother has had his eulogy written since he was ten and his father started picking out coffins when he hit thirteen.

It’s whatever, Wei Wuxian’s got a goal in life, and he won’t stop accelerating until he reaches it.

Everyone knows it, and he supposes that’s the reason he got introduced to Lan Xichen at the itty-bitty age of five. Well, introduced, is a rather generous way to say his mom grabbed Lan Xichen and plopped him in front of Wei Wuxian in a sort of “behold, a fellow child” movement, mortifying everyone else in attendance, particularly Uncle Lan.

Wei Wuxian struggled to get along with his agemates, outpacing them easily, and Lan Xichen apparently needed someone to poke fun at him before he turned into a total rock. They had an odd give and take relationship, and not just because Wei Wuxian’s parents were independent cultivators and homeschooled him all over the world.

At sixteen, Wei Wuxian knew that Lan Xichen latched on to him because of the end result of a messy divorce. Sects, even in this day and age, didn’t particularly condone divorce. Separation tended to be the end all, which was the reason why they never got to see Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli on the weekends.

But Lan Xichen’s parents had gone through a divorce and Gusu Lan got to keep their sect heir and Lan Xichen’s mom her youngest. She’d wanted custody of both children, but the sects wouldn’t ever allow that.

And all of this culminated in Wei Wuxian accompanying Lan Xichen to the airport to pick said younger brother up. Well, that and the broken arm. Cultivation didn’t revolutionize itself and Wei Wuxian suspected that if he’d spent another hour in the library, Uncle Lan would’ve thrown him out himself.

Lan Wangji, the brother to be picked up and taken to Gusu for the first time in ten years, was sixteen, like Wei Wuxian himself, but that didn’t mean much given how much better Wei Wuxian did around older peers.

And apparently he looked a lot like Lan Xichen—

Oh.

“Well, that was a fucking lie,” Wei Wuxian told Lan Xichen the moment he spotted what could only be Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian supposed that at first glance, Lan Wangji looked a lot like Lan Xichen to someone who’d seen Lan Xichen out of sect robes, but a simple comparison didn’t measure up.

“You never told me your brother was hot,” Wei Wuxian hissed. “How have I known you for two thirds of my life and never known your brother was hot?”

“I’ve shown you photos,” Lan Xichen pointed out.

Well, yeah, but Wei Wuxian hadn’t wanted to see them because he’d been dragged to the Cloud Recesses by his mother only to be told that Lan Xichen would be gone for the summer, visiting his brother and mother. And the Lan Wangji in those pictures had been inherently ugly by virtue of stealing Wei Wuxian’s best friend.

This Lan Wangji was not.

“Does Uncle Lan know your brother has an undercut?”

Holy shit, Wei Wuxian needed to touch Lan Wangji’s head so badly. Squish his face between his hands and bite his lips.

“No,” Lan Xichen said and waved at the Hottest Man Alive, trademark pending. “Would you do me the favor and tell him?”

Wei Wuxian turned to his best friend and snorted. “I love you, but if I piss of Uncle Lan one more time, he’s banning me from the Cloud Reccesses too.”

“Thought so.”