#no seriously I didn’t even like him during my first play through

[matlasaya]

How did I end up drawing Jean Vicquemare?

[azullumi]

“his habits during it” ; genshin men

warning — nsfw content ahead but nothing that graphic or explicit (seriously i tried my best to not even mention the word sex and the genitals)

summary — there’s one thing he loves to do whenever the two of you get in bed together.

characters — diluc, kazuha, ayato, kaveh, alhaitham, tighnari, cyno, zhongli, and wanderer (w/gender-neutral reader) ; no specified anatomy nor even mentioned parts

tags — kind of fluff, nsfw, not proof-read (wrote this while i was irritated and needed something to pour my attention to) ; headcanons

words — 1265

note — hey siri, how do you say they’re fucking without saying they’re fucking

handholding

DILUC — (i have already said this before) diluc likes, no, he loves the intimacy the simple act of holding one’s hand has even when two of you are just walking together side by side or when his skin is pressed against yours, lips colliding against one another, and he’s whispering words of affection to your ears—a mere distraction and a sense of comfort, grounding you and keeping you with him. it’s just that effortless gesture of intertwining his hand with yours, locking fingers, as he indulges in the way you feel around him. he squeezes your hand in the middle of it all and oh, how he melts so much when you also squeeze his own in return. he could never tell you how much you make him so soft and weak with just the slightest hold.

eye contact

KAZUHA — “don’t look away now,” he coos at you, seeing how you shy yourself and avert your gaze away from him which he obviously didn’t like. he likes seeing you coming undone while you try to remain eye contact with him—it pleases him seeing your features contort into into what you are currently feeling—, likes teasing you every time you try to look away from him and hide your expression, likes saying such remarks that gets you embarrassed most times just so he could see and watch the change of your expressions every single time. he just loves looking at you, adoring you with his eyes, especially more so when you also do the same and keep contact, gaze nailed on each other.

praises and talking dirty

AYATO — he’s a talker, both outside the matters in the bedroom and inside the sheets, so it’s no wonder that he always shower you with praises in every chance that he gets even if you’re not in the right mind to respond or even comprehend what he’s saying. he conveys most of his affections through the words that falls out of his lips, finding it so easy to say such things and teasing you with it, he can’t help it, can he? how could he not when you look so pretty—not only outside the bedroom—or beautiful, or handsome, or lovely, or anything that he could think of right at that moment when he sees you naked? Even if he had held and seen you with nothing to cover your skin so many times, he still gets mesmerized by the sight of you like it was his first time.

playing with your hair

KAVEH — he plays with it, he tugs on it, pulls on it, and everything. and though it gives him some sense of control especially when he pulls on it, it also grounds him and helps him realize the affection and love being shared between you two in this intimate moment. sometimes he only dances his fingers on your head, treating you softly and tenderly with the delicate hold of his hand on your hair, which could often provide a huge contrast to what he’s actually doing, the rough treatment he’s giving you which makes you roll your eyes and see spots in your vision. “you look so pretty like this, my love,” he would say before tugging your hair back to take a good look at your face or to tilt your head in a way that gives him more access to your neck.

lots of kisses

TIGHNARI — gently laying you down the bed? kisses you while doing so. sliding your clothes off your body? presses his lips against yours before trailing down, tracing your jaw, his mouth making its way down your neck, and resting on your collarbone. asking you consent? he kisses you before he speaks. he presses gentle kisses of adoration all over you as he pushes himself into you, your bodies becoming one in the process, providing comfort and easing you as he could feel your nails digging deep into his skin and possibly, leaving marks and wounds but he didn’t mind. his fondness and desire murmuring into you, helping you breath and regain yourself. it was clear that his way of affection was simply just kissing you.

giving orders

CYNO — he doesn’t always take the dominant position but perhaps it was the sense of authority, the power whenever he does it. he has the habit of giving orders and commands whenever you two are spending a passionate moment and seeing you willing to follow him ignites something in him—however, if you disobey him, then that’s a different matter altogether (it’s not like he hates it however. deep in him, he likes it as it gives him the pass to do more things but with your consent, of course). you’re so vulnerable, so obedient to him and it fuels his excitement further when you follow what he says. it makes him wonder, a question pondering his head, how could he have someone like you, someone as lovely and sweet as you, so good to him?

restriction / holding your hands together

ZHONGLI — no, it is not the act of locking your fingers with his as he pushes himself into you just like diluc, this one is completely different. he has big hands, we all know that zhongli’s hands are big and one of it just enough to bind both of your wrists together—he is well-aware of that fact and abuses it. he likes seeing you struggle, tugging your hand against his but his hold wouldn’t budge, at all. although zhongli hasn't explicitly told or mentioned it, he absolutely loves the way you look so helpless and weak whenever he holds your hands together, whenever he restricts your movement. oftentimes, he would have a silk ribbon—it has to be a silk ribbon—tying you up just so he could rest his hands on your hips and hold you.

hands always touching and roaming around your body

ALHAITHAM — he just loves to feel you, in general. he loves the softness of your skin underneath the tip of his fingers as he glides his hand all across your body, the warmth of you seething into his touch and being buried in his bones, and he is obsessed on the way he could feel the sweet trembles of your body underneath his hand, could sense the small shiver when he finally touches you, and he adores it and he doesn’t hesitate in conveying his affections to you, often accompanying his caresses with his words of praises and compliments. perhaps it overwhelms you, not knowing where to focus yourself on, and he loves seeing you in such a state, pushing you more and more further to the edge with his hands and mouth alone.

biting and leaving marks

WANDERER — the line between pain and pleasure soon blurs into one as he bites into you while, and one could say it serves as a distraction but it isn’t, it’s not even close to being a distraction, it’s simply something that adds to the stimulation that you are feeling, overwhelming and effectively bringing you into some sort of space. he takes joy in the sounds that you make once he buries his neck on the curve of your neck, hard but not hard enough to draw blood; he takes pride in seeing the bruises and marks that he left on you, looking at you like you were a work of art carved and sculpted into something more than perfection with his own hands.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ 'make me' with skz !

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: this is very suggestive lmao

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: this is a repost from my old blog! so if you feel like you've read this before, that's why :)

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧

“Make you? Make you do what?” yes, he will play dumb to ‘make you’ use your words and elaborate.

Doesn’t do anything and acts oblivious until you actually say it, no matter how much he wants to.

Acts bubbly and normal like nothing even happened, laughing away without a care in the world while watching tiktoks or something. Unbothered.

The moment you do speak, something inside him snaps and he’s got you backed against a wall in moments, talking lowly over your lips while caressing your face.

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧

Oh, he will. No matter the context or where you are, Minho will take your words as a challenge and do anything in his power to make you regret ever doubting him.

Gives you this specific look that makes you go weak in the knees, raising a single eyebrow before beckoning you closer.

Will whisper in your ear, giving you one more chance to back down while softly playing with a strand of your hair.

If you don’t do as he says, he will start whispering the dirtiest stuff with the straightest face, being content with just flustering you until you get home and he can finally ‘make you’.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧

Forget about teasing and playing dumb, Changbin will ‘make you’ instantly. He doesn’t play around.

Will also back you up against the nearest surface and cup your face, resting his forehead on yours with a smirk on his face.

He feels so smug and cocky when he sees you get shy and regret your words that he can’t help but find the whole situation amusing.

The power imbalance the moment provides feeds his ego so don’t expect to get away with this scot-free. Changbin will punish you thoroughly.

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧

Raises an eyebrow and just…stares at you, blinking. Looks so unphased that you actually think he didn’t hear you at first.

But he did, and the moment you repeat yourself, he stands up to tower over you, fisting some of your hair in a makeshift ponytail to bring your face closer to his.

Licks his lips just to torture you a little more before finally pressing them to yours for a needy kiss, the soft action a straight contrast from the hold he still had on your hair.

When he pulls away, he repeats the words that got such an answer from you and expects you to finally listen, eyes sharp without any hint of playfulness in them.

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧

Turns red instantly and his brain kind of short-circuits because he wasn’t really expecting that.

If this was said in the heat of the moment during an argument, all of the anger will leave his body and he will just…stand there, flustered.

His mind will be racing with all of the things he wants to do to you, some innocent, others not so much while he looks at you, licking his lips.

Jisung will be tongue-tied, wanting to say too many things at once so you have to be the one pulling him from his trance if you want something to happen.

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧

Felix will get the biggest smirk on his face, I swear. These are two of his favorite words after all.

He will make you do things you’ve never even dreamt of doing so be careful what you wish for.

Takes a hold of your hand and draws you closer until you’re a breath away, placing a sweet peck on your lips that somehow leaves you dizzy and desperate for more.

Then, his voice drops and you feel the vibration in your bones as he speaks. “Make you do what exactly? Tell me, in detail.”

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧

Oh, you want him to make you shut up? Say no more.

Will get up and actually go through all the trouble of getting a paper towel and shoving it in your mouth Minho style (I AM SO SORRY KSJDGNDF BUT HE WOULD)

That is if he isn’t in the mood to play your games. If he is, however, things would be completely different.

“Are you sure this is what you want? You might end up regretting it.”

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧

A tease from beginning to end. He won’t take you seriously at all I’m afraid.

Might even laugh in your face before making himself more comfortable in his seat, (man)spreading his legs before beckoning you closer with a single finger, amused.

Wants you to entertain him and if you don’t, he will ‘make you’.

Will place you in his lap and use his words to fluster you beyond belief, his fingertips ghosting over your skin sending shivers down your spine.

[julietsf1]

Irritating, But Irresistible – Franco Colapinto X Reader

Summary: Alex Albon’s sister is not happy with Logan’s new replacement who seems to be very sure of himself.

Words: 8k

Warnings: cursing, smut after ***

A/N: this is my first time writing anything, just wanted to do something w franco since there is not much out there yet :) English isn't my first language so I hope it reads okay! smut is just the last part so you can read without and it will still be a complete story *muah*

________________________________________________________

It was press conference day at Monza, one of the busiest times during a Formula 1 weekend. I walked through the paddock, juggling my internship deadlines on my phone. Even with my hectic schedule, nothing beat being around the buzz of the F1 world, where I could support my brother Alex and enjoy the company of his friends. Today, however, my thoughts were consumed by Logan’s sudden exit and his replacement.

Franco Colapinto.

I had yet to meet him, but from what Alex had shared, I already had my preconceptions: talented, confident, but most likely arrogant—a rookie straight from Formula 2 who had taken Logan’s seat.

I had been devastated by the news. Of course, Logan hadn’t been performing as well as he did in F2, but he and I had formed a special bond over the course of the past seasons. After every crash, when Logan would be back in the team garage to sit out the race, I had been there to talk with him, and we developed a deep and valuable friendship. I couldn’t help but feel frustrated by the team not sticking with him until Newey would join next season and provide a better car.

As I approached Alex and George Russell, they were already deep in conversation, Alex’s usual easygoing grin on his face as George prattled on with his distinctly old-fashioned vocabulary.

“And I dare say, Alex, it’s an absolute travesty that the press still insists on asking the same infernal questions,” George was saying, sipping from his water bottle. “There’s only so many times one can answer, ‘What’s your strategy for qualifying?’ without going mad.”

Alex chuckled, shaking his head. “Come on, George, don’t act like you don’t secretly love the attention.”

George sniffed, clearly unconvinced. “Attention, yes, but repetitive inquiries? It’s rather pedestrian. Honestly, one would expect a touch more intellectual curiosity.”

I grinned, stepping into the conversation. “You should start answering in riddles, George. Give them something to think about.”

George’s eyes lit up, considering the idea seriously. “You know, that’s not half bad. I could begin each answer with a Shakespearean quote. ‘To pit or not to pit, that is the question.’”

Alex burst into laughter, shaking his head. “Please do. It’ll be the highlight of the weekend.”

Before I could join in with my own jab, a smooth voice with a slight spanish accent interrupted our banter. “You must be Alex’s sister.”

I turned, and my breath caught for a second. Standing before me was Franco Colapinto, and he was—well, to be honest, he was a lot more attractive than I had expected. His dark hair was fluffy and slightly tousled as if he had just run a hand through it, giving him a charmingly casual look. His eyes—bright, shining with a mix of mischief and curiosity—immediately met mine, and there was something about the way they sparkled that unsettled me.

Franco stood with a relaxed confidence, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he waited for my response.

“And you must be Logan’s replacement,” I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended, trying to ignore the little flip in my stomach.

Franco raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that response, but his grin only grew wider, a playful glint in his bright eyes. “Franco Colapinto,” he introduced himself, extending his hand toward me.

I glanced at his hand but didn’t take it, crossing my arms instead. “Y/N.”

Franco didn’t miss a beat. He chuckled softly, undeterred by my cold reception. “Guess I’m not winning you over just yet.”

“You could say that,” I muttered under my breath, unable to stop myself from taking in his appearance again—his fluffy hair, the way the sunlight seemed to make his dark eyes even more intense.

“Give it time,” Franco said lightly, his tone soft but still laced with confidence. He shifted his gaze to Alex, giving a friendly nod. “See you up there, mate.”

As Franco walked away to the press room, I couldn’t help but stare after him, irritated by the way my heart skipped a beat. “He’s got some nerve,” I muttered.

Alex, always the peacemaker, sighed beside me. “Don’t be too hard on him, Y/N. He’s just trying to find his place.”

“Yeah, well, Logan had his place, and it was taken from him,” I shot back, folding my arms tighter across my chest.

George, ever the diplomat, chimed in with his usual formal tone. “Alas, it is the nature of this sport, Miss Albon. Drivers come and go as swiftly as the wind changes its course. It’s unfortunate, but inevitable.”

I sighed, knowing George was right but still unable to shake my irritation. I cast one last look at Franco, who was now chatting with some team members, his bright eyes still sparkling, that teasing grin still lingering on his lips.

The atmosphere that evening was electric. After a long day of press conferences and media obligations, the some of thedrivers, teams, and close friends gathered for a small party in the paddock’s private area. Music thumped through the speakers, and the energy was light despite the high-pressure weekend ahead.

I found myself by the bar, sipping a drink, trying to focus on my conversation with Lando and Oscar.

“You seriously didn’t even know how to do a basic rumba?” Lando was saying, laughing so hard he nearly spilled his drink. “Come on, Oscar. I thought Aussies were supposed to know how to dance.”

Oscar smirked, unbothered. “I’m a racing driver, not a dancer. I don’t need rhythm on the track, mate.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Rumba, Lando? That’s what you’re testing him on?”

Lando grinned, tossing his head back dramatically. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You know it’s important. It’s all about balance! Quick on your feet, suave with the moves—it’s practically the same thing as cornering at high speed.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure it’s not the same thing.”

“Well,” Lando shrugged, “when the media isn’t on your back, you’ve got to perfect something other than driving. For me, it’s dance moves. For George—” Lando leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “it’s his ancient vocabulary. I heard him use the word ‘beseech’ in an interview once. I thought we’d time-traveled.”

I burst out laughing, picturing George in full seriousness. “Oh my God, that’s so him.”

Lando wasn’t finished, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “That’s not even the best part. He used it to answer a question about tire degradation. I swear!”

Oscar finally cracked a smile, shaking his head. “George could give my grandma a run for her money.”

I was about to add another quip when I caught sight of Franco across the room, his familiar silhouette standing out as he laughed with Max and Daniel. I quickly looked back at my drink, but Lando, ever observant, wasn’t going to let it slide.

“You keep staring at him,” Lando teased, nudging me with a smirk.

“What?” I blinked, caught off guard. “I’m not staring.”

Oscar, who had been quietly sipping his drink, glanced at me. “You kind of are.”

I frowned, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. “I’m not. I just… don’t like him, that’s all.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Lando said, wiggling his eyebrows. “You’re not usually this flustered. It's kind of cute.”

“Shut up, Lando,” I shot back, though my voice lacked the sharpness I intended.

Oscar chuckled softly, glancing toward Franco. “You talk about him more than I’ve heard anyone talk about him since he joined.”

I rolled my eyes, clearly frustrated. “He’s arrogant, alright? Thinks he can just come in and—”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it. You don’t like him,” Lando interrupted with a grin, clearly not buying it. “But let’s be real—he’s not exactly lacking in the looks department, is he?”

I felt my face flush even more, and before I could respond, a familiar voice broke into the conversation. “What’s with the staring, cariño?”

My heart raced involuntarily, and my cheeks flushed red, but I forced a sarcastic smile. “I—I just don’t like that shirt, that’s all.”

Franco’s playful grin widened as he tilted his head slightly. “I’ll gladly take it off for you if you want me to.”

Lando burst into laughter and took a step back, clearly enjoying the tension. “Oh, I’ll leave you two to sort that out.”

Oscar, ever the quiet observer, gave a smirk and a knowing nod before following Lando, leaving me and Franco alone.

“You’re way too smug for someone who just got their seat,” I muttered, crossing my arms defensively.

Franco chuckled softly, his dark eyes still sparkling with amusement. “They brought me here for a reason, Y/N. There’s nothing wrong with being self-assured.”

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words caught in my throat as I found myself staring at his eyes again—the way they seemed to shimmer in the dim light. His presence unnerved me in a way that no one else ever had.

“I’ll prove it to you,” Franco said quietly, stepping closer, his voice dropping slightly, filled with both promise and challenge. He softly brushed his hand against my arm, the touch sending a shiver through me. “Just watch.”

Before I could respond, Max’s voice boomed from across the room. “Oi, Franco! Stop flirting! I got us another round of gin tonics!”

Franco glanced over his shoulder and smirked before turning back to me. “See you tomorrow,” he said, his voice soft and teasing, before walking off, leaving me standing there, heart racing for reasons I didn’t want to admit.

Friday morning’s free practice was the perfect chance for the teams to fine-tune their setups before qualifying, but for me, it was another opportunity to watch Franco. I stood in the Williams garage, my arms crossed as I kept one eye on the lap times flashing on the screen, the other on Franco’s progress on track.

“How’s he looking?” I asked Alex, trying to keep my tone neutral, but the curiosity in my voice betrayed me.

Alex, who had already come back into the garage mid-session, didn’t look away from the data in front of him. “Decent. He’s still getting used to the car, but he’s quick. He’s got potential, Y/N.”

I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Potential doesn’t win races, though.”

Alex glanced at me with a grin. “You’re tough. Give him a break. He’s still new.”

Before I could argue back, James Vowles, the Williams team principal, stepped into the conversation, his voice measured and commanding, but always reassuring. “Patience, Y/N. Drivers need time to grow, especially in this environment. Franco’s performance has been promising so far, and that’s all we can ask for at this stage.”

I smirked, shaking my head. “I’m not sure Franco’s the ‘take time to grow’ type. He’s way too sure of himself.”

James folded his arms, smiling slightly while shaking his head. “Confidence is a tool, Y/N. If used correctly, it can be an asset. And from what I’ve seen, Franco understands that balance. Let’s not underestimate him too soon.”

Alex chuckled, nudging me. “Even James is on his side. Come on, give the guy a chance.”

As if summoned by the conversation, Franco’s Williams car came flying past the garage on track, a blur of blue and white as it whipped around the corner. I watched his lap times closely—each split was faster than the last.

“Looks like he’s getting the hang of it,” Alex said, raising an eyebrow toward me.

I couldn’t help but let out a small sigh. “Fine. He’s… better than I thought. But that doesn’t mean anything yet.”

After the second practice session ended and the drivers returned to the garage, I found myself lingering near the pit wall, watching as the cars were rolled back into the garage. Franco emerged from his car, pulling off his helmet, his fluffy hair tousled and damp with sweat. He was wiping his brow with the sleeve of his race suit when his eyes caught mine.

Franco approached me with that familiar, irritating grin. “Enjoying the show?” he asked, his voice light but teasing as always.

I raised an eyebrow, trying to sound unimpressed. “It’s fine. Could be better.”

Franco chuckled softly, stopping just close enough that I could catch the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the track’s lingering heat. “You’ve got high standards, I see.”

“I am just realistic,” I shot back, finally meeting his gaze. “Not sure you’ll live up to your own expectations, Colapinto.”

For a second, Franco’s playful smile faltered, but he quickly recovered, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Y/N, I’m pretty sure I can meet—and exceed—any expectations you’ve got for me.”

I crossed my arms, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Big words for someone who hasn’t proved anything yet.”

Franco took a step closer, the teasing edge in his voice never fading. “Oh, I’ll prove it. Just keep watching.” He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a murmur. “You’ll be impressed soon enough.”

My pulse quickened as his words hung in the air. I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Franco winked and stepped back.

“You can tell me what you think tomorrow,” he added over his shoulder, walking away with that infuriating confidence, leaving me standing there, frustrated and flustered all at once.

Just as I tried to collect myself, Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, wandered over. Her soft, sweet demeanor was the perfect counter to the high-pressure environment.

“Everything okay, Y/N?” she asked gently, noticing the slight tension still lingering on my face.

I huffed, folding my arms across my chest. “He’s impossible.”

Lily smiled knowingly, tilting her head. “I’ve seen you two talking more and more recently. Doesn’t seem like you think he’s that impossible.”

“He is trust me,” I muttered, though my tone was less convincing now.

Lily gave me a soft, encouraging smile, her voice gentle and kind. “You know, sometimes it’s okay to let your guard down. Not everyone’s as bad as they seem at first.”

I looked at Lily, rolling my eyes but feeling the truth in her words sink in. “You really think he’s a good guy?”

Lily shrugged with a sweet grin. “Maybe. I think you’re more interested in finding that out than you want to admit.”

I shook my head, but the feeling that maybe—just maybe—Lily was right gnawed at me as I watched Franco walk away, his figure disappearing into the garage.

Saturday was always charged with anticipation—qualifying day. The pressure in the paddock was thick, and I could feel the weight of it hanging in the air as I wandered through the bustling paddock. Every team member was focused, every driver mentally preparing for the intense session ahead. I, on the other hand, was lost in my thoughts, trying to distract myself from the growing irritation I felt whenever Franco popped into my mind.

Why does he always have to be so smug? I thought, frowning to myself as I made my way toward the drivers’ rooms. Always with the teasing, always with that stupid grin.

I was looking for Alex, but my mind was still tangled in thoughts of Franco—how his words had lingered from yesterday’s exchange, how his presence had become harder and harder to ignore. Whether it was the playful sparkle in his bright eyes or the way his fluffy, tousled hair fell effortlessly, something about him unsettled me.

Absentmindedly, I pushed open a door, not thinking twice about it—until I froze.

There stood Franco, half-dressed.

He was in the middle of pulling on his race suit, shirtless, his toned torso on full display. His skin gleamed under the soft lights of the room, and his dark hair was slightly damp, falling in messy waves over his forehead. He hadn’t noticed me at first, but when he looked up, his dark eyes locked on mine, surprise flickering across his face. It didn’t last long, though—his expression quickly shifted into that familiar, teasing grin I had come to expect.

“Well, well,” he drawled, voice laced with amusement, “didn’t expect you to walk in on me like this, but I’m not complaining.”

I froze, my cheeks flushing as I struggled to recover my composure. “I wasn’t—this isn’t—I was looking for Alex!” I stammered, my voice sharper than I intended.

Franco raised an eyebrow, his grin only growing wider. “Uh-huh. Sure you were.”

My irritation flared, and I crossed my arms, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “Don’t flatter yourself, Colapinto. This was clearly a mistake.”

Franco took a step closer, his tone still light, but the teasing in his eyes unmistakable. “A mistake, huh? Yet, here you are. Still standing here.”

My pulse quickened, and I cursed my body for reacting to his presence. He was too close now, and the space between us felt charged, heavy with something I didn’t want to name.

“You’re full of yourself, you know that?” I shot back, lifting my chin, refusing to be intimidated.

Franco chuckled softly, his eyes locked on mine. “Maybe. But you seem pretty caught up in me for someone who claims not to care.”

I scoffed, stepping back but finding myself backed against the door. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible?” Franco echoed, the amusement never leaving his voice. “Or just irresistible?”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “In your dreams, maybe.”

Franco’s gaze softened slightly, and for a moment, the teasing edge faded. “You keep acting like this, but I see through it.”

I frowned, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. “Acting like what?”

He shrugged, taking another small step closer, his voice lower now. “Like you hate me. But every time we talk, it feels like something else is going on.”

My breath hitched, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to look away. I hated that he could read me so easily, hated the way he made me feel like I was constantly on the back foot.

“Don’t get it twisted, Franco,” I said, my voice firmer this time. “You annoy me. That’s it.”

Franco smirked again, but there was something different in his eyes now—a challenge. “If you say so. But if I annoy you so much, why do you keep ending up here? In my space?”

I didn’t have an answer. Or at least, not one I was willing to admit out loud. The truth was, every time we clashed, it felt like the air between us was crackling with more than just annoyance. But I wasn’t ready to face that yet.

“I’m here because I thought this was Alex’s room,” I said finally, the sharpness returning to my voice. “Don’t read too much into it.”

Franco laughed softly, his expression softening as he stepped back, giving me some space but still keeping that annoying smirk. “Alright. But next time you want to drop by, just knock.”

I shot him a glare, my frustration flaring again. “You wish.”

With that, I turned on my heel and reached for the door, determined to leave the awkwardness behind. But before I could open it, Franco leaned in close, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “You’ll be back.”

I whipped my head around, my eyes narrowing. “Don’t count on it.”

Franco chuckled as he watched me go, shaking his head in amusement. “See you around, Y/N.”

The door clicked shut behind me, and I leaned against the wall, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My mind was spinning, my heart racing, and the worst part? I couldn’t stop thinking about that damn smirk.

Inside the room, Franco finished pulling on his suit, a small smile still tugging at his lips. He couldn’t help it—there was something about me that made every interaction feel like a game, one he was very much enjoying.

By the time qualifying ended, Franco had placed 18th—not spectacular, but solid enough for a rookie still adjusting to the car. The Williams team seemed satisfied with the result, and after the session, I found myself lingering in the pitlane, chatting with Oscar and Lando, both of whom were waiting for their post-quali interviews.

Lando, ever the jokester, leaned against the wall with a grin. “You know,” he said, “I like that guy. He’s got that cheeky energy. A bit like me.”

I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Great, that’s exactly what we need—two Lando Norrises.”

Lando laughed, nudging me playfully. “Hey, the world would be lucky.”

Oscar, always the calm and collected one, stood with his hands in his pockets, his expression thoughtful. “You’ve got to admit,” he said casually, “Franco’s improving. He’s faster than last time.”

I shrugged, unimpressed. “Yeah, well, let’s see if that holds up. Confidence doesn’t always mean results.”

Lando grinned, nudging me with a playful elbow. “You’re only saying that because you don’t want to admit he’s growing on you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “He’s not growing on me. If anything, he’s just growing more annoying.”

Oscar smirked, glancing between me and Lando. “Annoying, huh? Funny how you keep talking about him, though.”

Before I could respond, Franco appeared, fresh from his post-session debrief. He looked as smug as ever, a towel draped over his shoulders, his hair slightly damp. He caught my eye immediately, his usual grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Franco approached, clearly enjoying the way I tensed up at his arrival. His grin grew wider, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks even before he said a word.

“What’s this? Talking about me again, Y/N?” he teased, his voice smooth as always.

I crossed my arms, determined not to let him get under my skin. “I’m pretty sure not everything’s about you, Franco.”

Lando, grinning like a Cheshire cat, leaned over to Franco, speaking just loud enough for me to hear. “Oh, mate, trust me. She’s been talking about you all day.”

Franco’s eyebrows shot up in amusement. “Really?”

My face flushed as I shot Lando a warning look. “Lando!”

Lando threw his hands up in mock surrender, enjoying every second of my discomfort. “I’m just saying what I see. You’ve been all eyes on Colapinto here. Don’t blame me for stating facts.”

Oscar chuckled softly, his quiet amusement adding to the playful atmosphere. “It’s true. You’ve mentioned him at least three times already.”

I glared at both of them, my irritation growing by the second. “You two are impossible.”

Franco chuckled, stepping closer to me, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Come on. I saw the way you looked at me this morning. You can admit it—you’ve been thinking about me.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, watching the exchange with quiet curiosity, while Lando stood by, grinning like he was watching his favorite sitcom unfold.

“Thinking about how you’re the most irritating person I’ve ever met? Maybe,” I shot back, refusing to back down as Franco leaned in slightly, his bright eyes sparkling with mischief.

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” Franco said smoothly, lowering his voice just enough to make my heart race.

I was about to retort when Alex joined us, clapping Franco on the back. “Good session, man. You’re getting faster.”

Franco nodded, but his eyes never left mine. “Thanks, but it seems like Y/N here has higher standards than the rest of you.”

Lando smirked, clearly loving the drama. “Oh, she does. Don’t take it personally, Franco. She’s got high standards for all of us.”

I glared at Lando, but before I could say anything, Franco leaned in slightly, his bright eyes still locked on mine. “Good thing I love a challenge.”

I scoffed, tightening my arms across my chest. “Trust me, Colapinto, you’ve got a long way to go before you meet my standards.”

Franco’s grin only widened. “Good thing I’m persistent.”

Before I could respond, Alex laughed, clearly oblivious to the tension bubbling between us. “Alright, let’s cool it before the next round of banter turns into an all-out war. Y/N, we’re having dinner with the guys tonight—join us?”

I hesitated, my gaze flicking between Alex and Franco, who was still watching me with that infuriating smirk.

“Yeah, I’ll come,” I muttered, “just need to freshen up a bit,” shooting Franco one last look before heading toward the paddock exit.

“Fun! We’ll meet you in the lobby at 8!” Alex called after me as I walked away, while the guys gathered for their post-qualifying interviews.

Dinner that evening was supposed to be a chance to unwind after the high-pressure qualifying session, but the moment I realized Franco was joining us, my mood soured. I hadn’t expected him to be part of the group, assuming it would just be me, Alex, George, Oscar, and Lando. But as soon as I saw him enter the restaurant, his easy confidence on full display, I knew the night wasn’t going to go as planned.

Of course he’s here, I thought, rolling my eyes as he slipped into the seat across from me, wearing that same infuriating smirk.

Franco greeted everyone with casual charm, clearly enjoying himself, but every glance he threw my way felt designed to provoke me. It didn’t help that Lando, seated beside me, was in a particularly mischievous mood.

Soon enough, the waiter came over to take our orders, and things started to get even more interesting.

“Alright, what’ll it be?” the waiter asked.

“I’ll take the risotto,” Alex said, glancing at the menu one last time before handing it over.

"Might I be so bold as to request the same for myself?" George added.

Oscar ordered quickly, as calm and collected as ever. “Just a steak, medium-rare, thanks.”

I scanned the menu, trying not to think about Franco sitting directly across from me. I settled on my favorite pasta dish, handing my menu to the waiter. “I’ll have the truffle ravioli.”

When the waiter turned to Franco, I braced myself for whatever cheeky comment he was about to make.

“I’ll go for the truffle ravioli,” he said, then paused, glancing at me with a smirk. “But only if it’s as good as they say it is.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s ravioli, Franco. Not a fine wine. Relax.”

Lando, who had clearly been enjoying the tension building between us, grinned as he scanned the menu. “I’ll have the spaghetti. Extra sauce.”

“Surprising,” I deadpanned, “I thought you’d go for something a bit less… messy.”

Lando leaned back, tossing his menu aside with dramatic flair. “Messy? You must not follow the gossip pages, Y/N. I love messy. Besides, I have big plans for this spaghetti.”

Alex groaned. “Please behave.”

Lando wiggled his eyebrows, already looking pleased with himself. “Oh, just wait.”

As the waiter left, the group settled into casual conversation, the mood light despite the simmering tension between Franco and me. Alex, always the big brother, couldn’t resist dragging me into an embarrassing memory.

“You should’ve seen Y/N when she decided she was going to be an inventor,” Alex began, grinning as I sighed dramatically. “She built this elaborate ‘trap’ to catch the family cat. We’re talking string, boxes, and a broomstick involved—it looked like something out of Home Alone.”

I groaned. “Oh God, here we go.”

Alex was enjoying himself too much to stop. “She spent hours perfecting it. She swore it would work. And guess what? It didn’t catch the cat—it caught Mum instead.”

Lando burst into laughter, his eyes wide with excitement. “Y/N, an engineer in the making! I would’ve paid to see that.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide my grin. “Okay, it wasn’t my best idea, but it wasn’t that bad!”

Alex snorted. “Mum had to wriggle out of it while holding the groceries. To this day, she doesn’t trust any ‘surprise’ Y/N sets up.”

Franco, who had been quietly following the story, leaned forward with his signature smirk. “Sounds like I need to watch my back around you, Y/N.”

I shot him a look, my voice dry but teasing. “Trust me, I’ve improved since then. You wouldn’t see it coming.”

Franco smirked. “I’ve got my eyes on you.”

Before I could reply, the waiter returned with our food. Plates were placed in front of us, and Lando’s spaghetti arrived with an extra helping of sauce just as he’d requested.

“Oh, yes,” Lando said, rubbing his hands together like a mischievous child. “Now, let the fun begin.”

It looked like he was up to his usual antics, twirling his spaghetti with great concentration, his grin widening as he arranged the strings very carefully on his plate.

“Lando,” I said, raising an eyebrow, “what are you doing?”

Lando leaned back, arms crossed proudly as he surveyed his masterpiece. “Creating art, Y/N. Pure, unadulterated art.”

"Goodness gracious, Lando we are at a bloody restaurant!" George put on his sunglasses, trying his best to distance himself from the childlike behaviour of his friend.

I glanced down at his plate and burst out laughing. “Bunda? Seriously?”

Lando’s grin only widened. “What can I say? I’m a man of culture.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Yeah, spelling ‘BUNDA’ with spaghetti really says a lot about you. Deep.”

Lando pretended to be offended, clutching his chest dramatically. “Ouch, mate. I’m expressing myself here.”

I laughed, shaking my head at the absurdity. But despite the humor, I could still feel Franco’s eyes on me, watching every move I made.

As the evening wore on, the banter at the table continued, but the undercurrent of tension between Franco and me was impossible to ignore. Every time I looked up, I caught him watching me—his eyes glinting with amusement, like he knew exactly how much he was getting under my skin. It was maddening, yet I couldn’t deny the strange pull that kept drawing my attention back to him.

Finally, unable to take it anymore, I decided to address the elephant in the room.

“So,” I began, cutting through the chatter at the table, “Franco, how does it feel stepping into a seat that wasn’t exactly yours?”

The table went quiet almost instantly. Alex shot me a look—half warning, half pleading—but I ignored it, my eyes locked on Franco. I couldn’t hold back the resentment that had been simmering for weeks. Logan had been my friend, and I wasn’t about to let Franco think he could just waltz in and take his place without any consequences.

Franco’s smile faltered for just a second, but he recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m here because I earned it,” he replied evenly, his voice calm but with an edge. “Not my fault if others couldn’t keep up.”

I didn’t back down. “I don’t think you earned it. I think you’re just here because of the sponsors. Anyone can see there are plenty of drivers with more potential than you.”

Franco’s jaw tightened slightly, and the playful glint in his eyes dimmed. The atmosphere around the table shifted, and even Lando, who had been proudly admiring his spaghetti art, stopped mid-bite to watch the exchange.

“Y/N,” Alex said softly, trying to ease the tension, but I barely registered his voice.

Franco’s gaze didn’t waver. “I don’t need to justify my place to you.”

I leaned in, my voice cold. “You don’t have to. It’s already obvious why you’re here.”

Franco’s eyes flashed with something darker, but instead of responding with the sharp retort I expected, he stood abruptly, pushing his chair back from the table. “I think I’ll call it a night. See you tomorrow.”

Without another word, Franco walked away, leaving me sitting there, my own words hanging in the air. The weight of what I had said settled in, a knot of guilt forming in my chest. Maybe I had gone too far.

Lando let out a low whistle. “Well… that escalated quickly.”

Alex sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Y/N, that was harsh. You didn’t have to push him like that.”

Oscar, who had been quiet for most of the dinner, finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. “You’re allowed to be upset, Y/N, but that wasn’t the way to handle it.”

I didn’t respond immediately. I knew they were right—deep down, I knew—but something about Franco just set me off in ways I couldn’t control.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you two,” Alex said, his tone softening as he looked at me, “but you need to talk it out before this gets worse.”

I glanced toward the door where Franco had disappeared, the guilt gnawing at me. Franco had a way of bringing out the worst in me, and now, I wasn’t sure how to fix it.

Later that night, I found myself sitting on the edge of my bed, staring out of the hotel window at the glowing city lights below. The confrontation with Franco during dinner replayed in my mind, each pass making me feel worse. I hated how easily he got to me, how every exchange with him seemed to spiral into something bigger than it needed to be. But what bothered me most was that deep down, it wasn’t just anger. There was something else beneath the frustration—something I didn’t want to admit.

A knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. I hesitated for a moment before standing up to answer it. When I opened the door, Alex stood there, leaning casually against the frame, his expression a mix of concern and that familiar big-brother teasing.

“Mind if I come in?” he asked.

I stepped aside, letting him in without saying a word. Alex walked over to the small seating area near the window and sat down, waiting for me to join him. The silence stretched between us for a moment before he finally spoke.

“You want to talk about it?”

I sighed, closing the door and sitting across from him. “Not really.”

Alex chuckled softly. “You sure? Because I’ve been watching you two for a while now, and it’s pretty clear something’s going on.”

I ran a hand through my hair, avoiding his gaze. “He just—he gets under my skin.”

“That much is obvious,” Alex said, his tone light but not unkind. “But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

I shook my head, feeling frustration bubbling up again. “I thought I couldn’t stand him. He’s arrogant, cocky, always trying to show off… but today, I pushed too far. And I know it.”

Alex nodded, watching me closely. “Franco’s sure of himself, yeah, but did you ever think that maybe he has to be so overly confident? The media and Netflix are always after us already, let alone if you replace someone halfway through the season. He’s not a bad guy, Y/N. You’ve been pretty hard on him since he joined.”

I sighed, feeling the weight of his words settle on my shoulders. “You’re right. I just didn’t expect him to… I don’t know, get to me like this.”

Alex leaned back, giving me a thoughtful look. “Y/N, you’re used to having things figured out—people, situations. But Franco doesn’t fit into that box you tried to put him in, and it’s throwing you off.”

I frowned, feeling the truth of Alex’s words sink in. I had been so sure of what kind of person Franco was, but the more time I spent around him, the harder it became to keep him in that neat little box I had created.

“He’s different than I thought,” I admitted finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “He’s still confident, but there’s more to him than just the cocky guy I thought he was.”

Alex smiled softly. “Exactly. So maybe instead of pushing him away, you should try to figure out what’s really going on between the two of you.”

I bit my lip, my heart heavy with guilt. “Do you think he’ll forgive me?”

Alex chuckled, his voice gentle. “You won’t know until you try. Talk to him. You’ll feel better once you do.”

Unable to sleep, I tossed and turned in bed, my mind spinning with guilt and frustration. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the look on Franco’s face when I pushed him too far at dinner. I knew I had crossed a line, but admitting it was harder than I thought.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I found myself slipping out of bed, grabbing my jacket to cover my nightgown, and quietly leaving my hotel room. The hallway was dimly lit, and the quiet hum of the city outside felt distant as I made my way toward Franco’s room.

My heart pounded as I reached his door. I hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was a good idea. But before I could talk myself out of it, I knocked softly.

The door swung open, and Franco stood in the doorway, his expression a mix of surprise and something else—something unreadable. He was dressed casually in a t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair still slightly damp, as if he had just showered.

“Y/N?” he asked, his voice low. “What are you doing here?”

I swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of my nerves. “I—I came to apologize.”

Franco crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe, his dark eyes watching me carefully. “For what, exactly?”

I bit my lip, trying to find the right words. “For what I said at dinner. I… I was out of line. I let my frustration get the better of me, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

For a moment, Franco didn’t say anything. He simply studied me, his expression unreadable, and the silence between us felt heavy, charged with something I couldn’t quite place.

Finally, he sighed, stepping aside and gesturing for me to come in. “You might as well come in. We shouldn’t do this in the hallway.”

I hesitated, but eventually stepped into Franco’s room, the door clicking shut behind me. The air between us was thick, the unspoken tension hanging like a storm ready to break. Franco leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he watched me carefully, his dark eyes searching my face for something I wasn’t sure I could give him.

“I didn’t expect you to apologize,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, softer but still holding that familiar edge. “You’ve been pretty set on hating me.”

I shook my head, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t hate you. I was just… frustrated. I thought you were just this arrogant guy who didn’t care about anyone but himself, but you’re not like that. You surprised me, and I guess I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Franco’s expression softened, but there was still a teasing spark in his eyes. “Surprised you, huh? So I’m not as terrible as you thought?”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly, despite the tension in the room. “Not completely terrible I guess.”

We stood there in the quiet for a moment, the weight of the apology settling between us. His eyes never left mine, and there was something in his gaze that made my heart race, something that had been there all along but that I’d refused to acknowledge.

“You didn’t have to come here,” Franco said, his voice low, a slight vulnerability in his tone that caught me off guard. “But I’m glad you did.”

My breath caught in my throat as the distance between us suddenly felt smaller, more intimate. The tension that had simmered for so long now felt like it was about to snap, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it. But I couldn’t move away, couldn’t bring myself to break the moment.

Instead, I took a step closer, my heart racing as our eyes locked. The silence between us felt heavy, full of things neither of us was willing to say, but we didn’t need words. I could feel it in the air, in the way his gaze softened, in the way my pulse quickened.

Franco reached out, his hand brushing lightly against mine. His touch was hesitant at first, almost as if he was waiting for me to pull away. But I didn’t. Instead, I took another step closer, closing the gap between us, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

When he leaned in, it wasn’t sudden—it was slow, deliberate. His lips brushed against mine softly at first, a hesitant kiss that quickly deepened as the tension between us finally broke. My hands found their way to his chest, and I felt the warmth of his skin beneath his t-shirt as his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer.

The kiss was everything we had held back, all the frustration and unspoken attraction we had been pretending didn’t exist. It was slow at first, then more urgent, as if we were both trying to make up for all the time we had wasted fighting it.

Franco’s hand moved to cup my face, his thumb gently brushing against my cheek as he kissed me, and I felt a warmth spread through me that I hadn’t expected. I didn’t want to admit how badly I had wanted this, how much I had been waiting for this moment, even though I had denied it to myself for so long.

When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathless, our foreheads resting against each other as we caught our breath. My hands were still pressed against his chest, and his arms stayed firmly around my waist, neither of us willing to break the connection completely.

Franco was the first to speak, his voice low and filled with a soft amusement. “So, I guess that’s one way to make up.”

I laughed lightly, my heart still racing. “Maybe.”

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at me properly, his gaze more serious now but still holding that familiar teasing edge. “You know, I didn’t think this would happen.”

“Me either,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m not mad about it.”

Franco’s lips curved into a small smile, and he leaned in again, this time pressing a softer, lingering kiss to my forehead before pulling away entirely. He didn’t let go of me completely, though, his hands still resting on my waist as he looked at me, his eyes searching mine for something I wasn’t sure I could name.

“We don’t have to figure everything out tonight,” he said quietly, his voice gentle but filled with something deeper. “But I think we both know there’s more going on here than just… whatever this is.”

I nodded, unable to find the words to respond. He was right, of course. This was more than just the heat of the moment—it had been building for a while, even if neither of us had been willing to admit it. But now that the tension had finally broken, it felt like there was no going back.

“Yeah,” I whispered, my voice soft. “There’s definitely more.”

***

He looked me deeply into my eyes before closing the space between us again. When our lips met again, it wasn’t the tentative kiss from before—this time, it was full of fire, all the pent-up tension and frustration we had been holding onto. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer, and my hands slid up to his shoulders, fingers threading into his hair.

Everything felt heightened—the softness of his touch, the warmth of his breath, the way my body responded to every move he made. There was a sense of inevitability between us, like this moment had always been coming, but now that it was here, it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

As we stumbled backward toward the bed, the kisses deepened, more urgent now. Franco’s hands found the hem of my dress, his touch both careful and eager, as though he wanted to savor every moment spent undressing me. My heart raced in anticipation, my skin humming under his fingertips.

Franco softly pushed me onto the bed, taking a few seconds to admire the sight before him before taking off his shirt and lowering himself onto me. My breath hitched as Franco’s lips trailed down my neck, each kiss sending sparks through my body. 

“Fuck you are so beautiful.” He softly mumbled, making heartbeat race even faster. What was this man doing to you?

His kisses softened around your inner thighs. 

“Do you want me to keep going?”

Awakened from my trance, I opened my eyes and looked down to meet his. “Please, don’t stop.”

That same cocky grin reappeared on his face. “Are you expectations as high as they are for my driving?”

I rolled your eyes. “Stop with the jokes Franco, I need you, please!”

“I’ve been waiting to hear that all weekend”

Without hesitation he roughly pulled down my lacy black panties, inserting one finger into my core while his tongue worked my already swollen clit. 

Sweet moans filled the room like music as he added another finger inside me. I could feel him smile down there.

“Can’t believe how wet you are for me. It’s so sexy.”

Soon my back started arching involuntarily. My hands, that were softly stroking through his hair as he worked me, now began gripping his dark brown locks tightly.

“Fuck Franco I’m so close.” I moaned, heart racing in my chest. 

To my disappointment he pulled away. Before I had the chance to start whining, he pulled down his sweats to reveal his huge dick. With lustful eyes I looked the beautiful man standing in front of me up and down. He looked incredible, the messy hair making him even sexier. 

He climbed back on top of me, softly kissing me, leaving me to taste my own excitement on his lips. 

Leaning over, he gently kissed my ears. “I want to feel you finish around me.” he whispered in his low husky voice.

Before the excitement had even reached my core, he slid his dick in, leaving no time for me to adjust to his size. He started ramming into me at dangerous pace, leaving me to cry out from the mixture the pain and pleasure. 

Franco’s hands roamed over my body, exploring, claiming, as though he had been craving this moment for too long. Every touch, every sound was laced with the weight of everything we had been holding back.

My breath hitched as he pulled out and flipped me over. His hands gliding over my ass while he repositioned himself in front of my entrance. 

“Where do you want me to cum later?” he asked, while grabbing my hair, giving it a little tug.

“In my mouth please.” My voice was hitchy from the thrill. 

I felt Franco’s dick twitch against me. He pulled me up to him by my hair and began kissing my neck more, his free hand playing with my boob.

“Is that so? And are you going to swallow it for me?”

I moaned. “Happily.”

He let go of my hair which led me to fall back on all fours on the mattress. I felt the palm of his hand smack hard against my ass, breath caught in my throat, my body trembling in response to his. He slid in and sweet sensations filled my body yet again. 

As the intensity built, Franco’s voice dropped to a whisper, his breath hot against my skin. “I’ve wanted this… wanted you… for so long.”

My only response was a soft gasp, my body arching toward his. I could feel the raw need in every movement, in the way his hands gripped mine tighter, his lips tracing fire along my skin. The tension that had been crackling between the two of you for weeks finally exploded in a wave of release, leaving us both breathless.

“Franco I-“ I couldn’t finish my sentence as a wave of pleasure went through my body.

He kept going as I completely soaked him, the wet pounding and both of your moans being the only sound in the room. 

When he was close, he flipped you over again to face him, stroking his long dick a couple times while I opened my mouth for him.  While I looked deeply into his glistering eyes, he released into my mouth. The warm salty taste made me ecstatic, sucking him off to make sure I had every last drop to swallow. 

Exhausted, we both let ourselves fall down on the bed. Heavy breathing filling the room.

“Such a good girl for me.” Franco smiled as he brushed through my hair. He pulled me closer in his muscular arms, our bodies still pressed close, the remainder of the storm we had just weathered lingering in the quiet of the room. Franco’s fingers traced light patterns along my arm, his breath still uneven as he looked at me, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of something deeper than just satisfaction.

I smiled, heart still racing but in a calmer, more settled way now. “Neither was I.”

We both didn’t need to say anything more. The silence was comfortable now, the tension replaced by a quiet understanding that whatever had just happened had changed things. As the two of us lay together, the connection that had once been full of conflict now felt like something new, something Franco and I both wanted to explore.

[katsu28]

home is wherever you are

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: secretly falling in love with your best friend is tough. secretly falling in love with your best friend who also happens to be your roommate is even less than ideal. the solution? move out! (hint: it isn’t a very good one.) (5k)

warnings: angst with a happy ending, a smidge of google translated french lol

a/n: CHARLES LECLERC!!! CHARLES LECLERC!!!!LECLERC!!! LECLERAUGHCOUGHCOUGH

“I still cannot believe you’re abandoning me.” 

Charles shoved another box of your things into the boot of your car rather huffily, as if to reiterate just how unhappy he was. 

“I’m not abandoning you, I’m moving out of your apartment.” You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully at him. You passed him the last box off the ground, wiping your hands off on your shorts before propping them on your hips. 

“That is quite literally the same thing.” He mirrored your stance in total seriousness, frown unwavering. “And it’s not my apartment, it’s yours now too. Your home.” 

You’d been living with Charles for a while now, having been suddenly evicted from your own place three, almost four years ago. With nowhere else to go, you’d turned to your best friend, and Charles had welcomed you with open arms, giving you a home when you’d needed it most. 

There were many good things about living with Charles—he liked to cook (which boded well with you, seeing as you were no master chef yourself. Except for when he’d gone through a questionable phase of combining cuisines that did not go well together.), he was respectful of set boundaries and agreed upon rules. You had the same taste in shows and movies, which made for little fighting when it came to deciding on what to watch. 

But most notably, he loved to play the piano. It was a hobby he’d picked up during long days spent staying at home, and he was good at it too. An electronic keyboard when he’d first started out, just to see if it was something he was serious about, but as he zoomed through the basics with ease, he’d splurged on a gorgeous white piano that stood proudly in the living room. 

Soon enough, it wasn’t unusual for the apartment to be full of music, beautiful songs of Charles’ own composing. 

He played whenever he had the feeling. Whenever he had something on his mind, whenever he was bored, anything, he’d spend hours at the piano, playing, playing, playing. Some might’ve called it annoying, but not you. You found it rather soothing. 

It had very quickly become a habit of yours to fall asleep listening to Charles play. Something about it seemed to always relax you just enough to the point where you could pretty much fall asleep anywhere if he was at the bench. 

Your favorite spot was on the sofa with a big blanket, watching him get lost in the notes until you drifted off. More often than not, you could rarely get a good night’s sleep without Charles’ accompaniment—your very own version of white noise. 

But truth be told, this past year of living together with Charles had been trickier than the first couple. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment things began to change, but something had definitely shifted between you. 

You’d been trying to write it off just the two of you being very close, but you’d been dancing on the line of close friends and more than friends for a long time. Falling asleep together cuddled on the sofa, lingering touches whilst you were in the same room and in passing, hugs that lasted a little too long to be considered normal. 

The more your feelings for Charles grew, the more worried you became. Worried about what, you weren’t exactly sure. All you knew was you didn’t want to lose the longest and best friendship you’d ever had because you went and fell in love.

“I know. But I think it’s well past time I get out of your hair and try being on my own for once.” You said softly, stepping in to fold yourself into Charles’ arms. 

Most of that was true. You did feel like you needed to live by yourself for a chance, to see what it was like to be fully independent in your adult life. You’d moved in with Charles when you were twenty two, and you were twenty five now. It was time for you to venture out on your own. 

But the uncertainty of falling in love with your best friend was definitely also a contributing factor. 

He made a displeased sound at your words, but tucked you under his chin nonetheless. “I don’t want you to get out of my hair. My hair likes it with you here.” 

“I live fifteen minutes away, Cha. I’m not moving across the country. You and your hair can come over anytime.” You scoffed, giving him a gentle poke in the ribs. “And I’ll come over here all the time too, you know that.” 

“Fine, fine. I don’t know what I am supposed to do with your empty room now, but I’ll figure it out. Maybe I will take up scrapbooking. Knitting. Needlepoint, maybe. Turn it into a craft room.” 

“Maybe you can turn it into a music room. Move the keyboard in there, your piano.” 

“Ah, bien entendu, my piano. How will you ever fall asleep without my sweet, sweet melodies?” 

“I think I will manage just fine.” You chuckled. 

Charles held you at arms’ length, dark brows furrowing as he scowled. “What I’m hearing is you don’t love me anymore.” 

Oh, if only he knew. 

You smiled instead, patting his cheek good-naturedly. “Come on, you drama queen. I want to move in before the sun goes down.” 

Charles went full protection mode the second all your belongings had made it safely inside the apartment, intently checking every lock, window, door hinge, cabinet—not an inch of the apartment went uninspected by him. When he seemed fairly satisfied with his safety checks, he returned to where you were unpacking kitchen items over by the oven.

“Everything up to your standards?” You asked, pulling out a stack of plates wrapped in brown paper. Charles shuffled over, easing them out of your hands and unwrapping them to help put them up in the cabinet. “No one is going to break in through my window tonight?”

“Don’t even joke about that.” He grumbled, chucking the balled up paper at you gently. “Everything I checked is fine. You will be safe here.” 

Food was simple when it came time for dinner—takeout on the floor of your living room, because you hadn’t had the time to go shopping for a coffee table yet. Or a dining room table. Or even chairs, really. All you had were some pillows and an overturned cardboard box to put the food on. 

Charles had insisted on helping you furnish the whole place before you moved in but you’d declined, saying that you wanted to get a feel for the place before filling it with everything. The last time it would be this empty would be the day you moved out. 

He seemed a little quiet the rest of the night, but you didn’t press it until after dinner, whilst he was helping you with the washing up. Well, helping was a strong word. 

“You’ve been drying that plate for ages now.” You observed, tilting your head at him thoughtfully. Charles inhaled sharply, shaking his head like he’d been snapped out of a stupor. He glanced down at the completely dry plate, then back up at you blankly. “What’re you thinking about?” 

“You’re really going to be gone.”

“You say that like I told you I’ve only got days to live. I won’t be gone, Cha. I’ll be around.” You chuckled, flicking dish soap bubbles in his direction. Charles responded by flinging his towel at you, cracking a smile. You liked it when he smiled, hated it when he frowned. He was still unfairly attractive, but it wasn’t Charles’ scowl that made you fall in love with him. 

“We can spend the day together anytime, you can come over whenever you want, and if it makes you feel any better, I will give you your very own key.” 

That seemed to put him a little more in higher spirits. 

 “What will you ever do without me?” He wondered out loud, feigning a thoughtful expression. 

“Probably clean up a lot less. Be able to take a shower without running out of hot water halfway through. Oh! Have a bottle of shampoo last more than a month because someone—not naming names, of course, won’t use it because they’ve run out of theirs. Not have to fight for—” 

“Alright, alright, I get it!” Charles huffed, grabbing you by the shoulders and promptly shoving your face into his chest to stop you from talking. 

You grinned against the softness of his hoodie. “Shall I go on?” 

“No, no you shouldn’t.” His hold on you loosened, but you stayed right where you were, wrapping your arms around his torso. “Just admit it. You’ll miss me.” 

“I will miss you.” You said softly, pressing your cheek into the crook of his neck. If there was something Charles was unbelievably good at (besides literally anything he’d ever tried), it was giving the best hugs. Something about them made you feel safe, like nothing and nobody could ever hurt you as long as you were in his arms. 

“You already know how much I’m going to miss having you around.” 

“Yeah, I am pretty great.” 

A laugh rumbled through his chest. “You are.” 

“You’ve been the best roommate I could’ve asked for. Thank you for everything.” Your words were muffled between the two of you, and you were glad for it, because he didn’t seem to notice the waver in your tone. But he did squeeze you a little tighter, so maybe he did hear you. “I love you, Cha.” 

Charles’ voice seemed to waver just a bit too. “I love you too.” 

“Okay, okay, you really need to leave. Go before I change my mind and make you stay.” You blurted, pushing him away playfully. It was better than letting him see you get emotional. 

“Is that a promise?” 

“No, it’s a threat. Go home. I will see you soon.” You gave his hand one last squeeze, nodding reassuringly to rid him of the crease between his brows. “Don’t worry about me. Go, get some rest.” 

It was only then that he seemed satisfied enough to leave, but even then, he cast another backwards glance towards you on his way down the hall, as if he was waiting for you to beckon him back. You just smiled as best you could. 

You’d get over it. You had to. There was still a lot you needed to get done before you called it a night. 

It wasn’t until you were getting ready to go to bed that you started to feel lonely. You and Charles had your respective bedtime routines, but they always intertwined. 

You never liked being the one to turn off all the lights in the apartment because the switch was at the end of the hallway opposite from your bedrooms, so he knew to do it because you hated running back through the darkness after flipping the switch. 

He always filled a glass with water for late night sipping, but never remembered to actually bring it to his room until he was already in bed, so you always grabbed it for him so he wouldn’t have to make the trek back out the kitchen.  

The bathroom counter was where you’d find each other the most, terrible jokes and funny stories told muffled through toothpaste bubbles, even though you could’ve just waited until you were finished to tell each other. You’d flick water at him as you washed your face because he took up too much space at the sink, he’d turn off the tap in retaliation, things like that. 

Sometimes Charles would stay up later playing video games with his friends, or take some extra time to practice piano, so you wouldn’t get to do your well oiled machine routine, but he’d always take the extra second to pop into your room to say goodnight when he heard you bustling around, even if he was in the middle of something. 

The times you fell asleep on the sofa to Charles’ playing the piano, he’d camp out at the other end of the sofa for the night, or at the very least made sure you were covered with a blanket if he went to sleep in his own room. 

It was something you’d grown accustomed to over the years, oftentimes the well-needed end to a not so great day. Charles never failed to put a smile on your face, even with something as small and mundane as a bedtime routine. 

But there was none of that as you ran through your routine this time. 

You didn’t hear him shuffling around over in the other room, the muffled sounds of his shouts as he played his games, and most of all, you didn’t hear him and his piano. 

Because there was no Charles. Of course there wasn’t. You were in this new place that you hadn’t had quite nearly enough of a chance to get used to yet, alone, and it was finally settling in. 

Suddenly moving out and away from him seemed like the worst decision in the world. 

You knew it was only the first night. You had to give yourself a chance to reacclimate, and that would take time. So you inhaled a deep breath, trying to get as comfy as you could for a long, probably sleepless night ahead. 

It was nearing four in the morning when you finally decided to give up and call Charles. Part of you thought he might not even pick up the phone, because he was probably asleep. Any sane person would be sleeping right now. 

Much to your surprise, he answered on the second ring. 

“Why are you awake?” You asked, maybe a bit harshly. 

“Um, you are the one who called me? Why are you awake?” He replied, groggy voice still teasing. His accent always grew thicker when he was sleepy. You thought it was adorable. “You cannot sleep, can you?” 

“...No.” Your voice grew smaller. You felt embarrassed at the fact that you couldn’t even make it one full night without Charles around. “I just…I wanted to hear your voice, I guess. I miss you already, Cha.” 

Charles fell silent for a few moments, the only sound on his side of the line being his gentle exhales. “I miss you too. Do you want me to come over? I can stay the night, if you want.” 

“No. No, you don’t need to do that.” You said softly. “Can you just talk to me?” 

This was also something that had become somewhat of a ritual when either of you couldn’t sleep. 

You’d tiptoe into each other’s rooms quiet as a mouse, slipping into bed beside the other. Charles always stirred when he felt the bed dip under your weight, half asleep but still reaching out to pull you against his chest like it was second nature. On the occasions when he came into your room, you’d feel him tuck himself close to you, nosing against any part of you he could find with a content sigh. 

There was no rhyme or reason to the things you’d talk about in those moments, but eventually, somehow, you’d both end up asleep, usually fairly quickly. Maybe it was the extra added comfort of each other that helped, you could never tell. 

It wasn’t unusual to wake up a jumble of limbs tangled together, and neither of you ever addressed it either. Just went on with your business as usual, never talking about it because it was just something you did. To help each other sleep, of course. 

Another thing that really blurred the line between friends and more. 

Charles hummed a noncommittal sound, soft and fond like he always was around you. “I’ll do you one better. How about I play some music for you?” 

“Yes, please. Thank you.” You sighed, relieved. He knew what you needed without you even having to ask. 

You heard him get up, footsteps padding along until there was a thud and some shuffling coming from Charles’ side. A few warm up scales in and you were already feeling a little less anxious, letting yourself get comfortable. 

“Any requests from the audience?” 

“Been working on anything new?” You yawned, nuzzling a little deeper back into your pillow. 

“I have, actually. It’s still—fuck, how do you say it…a work in progress?”

“Anything you play is perfect.”

“You flatter me.” He snorted. “Alright, here goes nothing.”  

He began to play. You knew jack shit about music, so there wasn’t much you could think of to describe how it sounded, but you could describe how it felt. You could almost feel the emotion pouring from his playing, even through the scratchy quality of the speaker. 

It felt like something you’d hear in the background of a movie montage, lilting and delicate and warm notes swirling together to create a bright melody, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. 

Memories of good times with Charles flashed through your head—all the long days and even longer nights you’d spent together because you thrived in each other’s company, cooking together, binging Netflix shows until you both passed out on the sofa. 

Hushed laughing during dinners at fancy restaurants that Charles could get into by flashing his name, soft conversations accompanied with expensive food and even more expensive wine. 

Day trips up the coast with the top down on the car, pushing the speed limit just to feel an ounce of the freedom that it could give you. Walking through Monte Carlo on late night gelato runs, switching flavors because you both enjoyed each other’s choice more than your own. 

Most of all, you thought of the love you felt for Charles, ever since you’d first met him. You’d never been one to believe in the concept of soulmates, but fuck, it was so easy to think of him as yours. Never had you felt as much for someone as you did for him. 

God, why were you even thinking of those things? 

It would never happen. Any love that Charles had for you would be strictly platonic, limited to however much one could love their best friend. 

Surely he’d drawn inspiration from something else when he’d composed the beautiful piece. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know. 

Soon enough, you’d drifted off like you always did when Charles played, coincidentally right before he came to a lingering stop. 

Had you been awake, you would’ve heard him say that the beautiful piece had been inspired by you. Instead you were fast asleep, still none the wiser to anything. Maybe it was a good thing. You might not have believed it if you’d heard him. 

-------

Charles was on your doorstep first thing in the morning, coffee and pastries in hand when you opened the door for him. 

“Hello, good morning, your savior is here. And with breakfast!” He chirped, coming to just enough of a halt for you to slide an arm around his shoulders in a hug and grab one of the drinks out of the tray before he swept past you.

Bright morning sunlight poured into the open area, washing the whole place aglow. A warm breeze floated in through the ajar window, rattling the shutters only slightly, and you could hear the all too familiar sounds of the city in the morning coming from the streets below. It was a gorgeous picture of peace; one of the apartment’s many fun quirks that convinced you to go for it in the first place. 

The only thing that might’ve rivaled the beauty of the moment was Charles standing at the window, leaning against the sill drinking his coffee while the breeze ruffled his hair. His back was to you as he checked out the view, but even the mere image of him here was nice. 

You sipped your own coffee, smiling to yourself when you realized Charles remembered exactly how you took it. You didn’t even need to look inside the bag to know they were your favorite pastries from the bakery down the street from your former apartment that both you and Charles loved. He was always thoughtful like that. Things like remembering your favorite foods and drinks, and going out of his way to get them as a little pick-me-up. 

It seemed wrong to ruin the moment, but you felt like you had to say something. 

“I’m sorry for waking you up last night.” You sighed, taking a cross-legged seat on a pillow. 

Charles turned away from the window, shaking his head quickly. He took a seat on the floor next to you, long legs stretching out towards your crossed ones to nudge a sneaker against your socked foot. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, I’m glad you called me.” 

“Right, but it’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it? First time on my own and I didn’t even last a whole night.” 

“Not pathetic.” He insisted, entirely firm in his words. He set his cup down as if it could strengthen his point. “It is a change, definitely. You can’t expect yourself to get used to such a big change immediately. It takes time, you know.” 

You messed with the lid of your cup, picking at the plastic with a scowl. “I know. But I can’t always come running to you whenever I need help. It’s not fair to you to have to keep rescuing me every time I need saving.” 

“Okay…” He trailed off, stretching out the last syllable in confusion. “I feel this is about something more than just last night. We can talk about it, if you would like?”

“I don’t know what it is.” You huffed. “I thought I was ready to be on my own, but maybe I’m not. Maybe I don’t know I’m doing and I’ll never figure it out, and—” 

“Whoa, whoa, slow down. Where is this all coming from?” 

“I don’t know,” You repeated, bordering on a whine. “But what I do know is that I can’t always keep relying on you for everything. It’s not good for me, or for you.” 

“You know, you could always just move back home if you’re truly not ready to do things on your own.” Charles offered, taking a casual sip of his own drink.

Home. He said it so casually, like home was with him instead of this new place you’d chosen to make yours. In a way, Charles was your home. Safety, comfort, love—all the things that made something home, you felt with him. 

That was the problem. You didn’t feel right relying on him for all those things, not without him being aware of how you actually felt about him. It seemed like too much of a burden to put on a friend, even one as perfect as Charles. 

His eyes met yours over the rim and he shrugged. “I still don’t know why you were so insistent on moving out in the first place.” 

You sighed, again. There weren’t many ways you could make yourself any clearer. Other than telling Charles one of the real reasons why you had to leave, which again, was more of a last resort (hopefully not at all) type of thing. “It was time—” 

“It was time for you to venture out on your own, yes, I know. But it doesn’t seem to be working out so well right now, does it not?” The last sentence seemed to slip out of Charles’ mouth before he knew what he was saying, because his mouth snapped shut right afterward. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I don’t want to argue.” 

But what had been done was done, what had been said was out there for you to know. Your coffee suddenly left a bitter taste in your mouth, and the traffic from outside became glaringly loud. The once peaceful atmosphere had been shattered now that you knew Charles’ true thoughts on it all. 

You stood up, letting your feet take you across the room from him. “No. Tell me more, Charles. Tell me how you really feel.” 

His nose wrinkled at the use of his full name. You never called him Charles unless you were upset with him, which wasn’t that often. Even hearing it come out of your own mouth seemed foreign. 

That seemed to change his reaction, because he stood too instead, doubling down on his words. “Okay. Yes, that is how I feel about you leaving. You barely even talked to me about it, and the next thing I knew, you were packing all your things into boxes! I didn’t understand where this—this sudden desire to leave came from. I still don’t.”

“You don’t have to understand it. It’s already done.” 

“Did I—did I do something wrong?”

You almost faltered. Almost.

“Did you ever think maybe me wanting to leave had nothing to do with you?” 

“Honestly? No. It feels like it has everything to do with me. It feels like you moved out because you didn’t want to be around me anymore!” Charles exclaimed. “And I have kept my mouth shut, I’ve been trying to be supportive of your decision, but I think I have a right to know. Am I why you wanted to leave so badly?” 

“That’s…part of it.” You admitted. Charles froze, brows flying up towards his hairline. “But not because of anything you did. Not because of the reason you’re thinking of.” 

“I don’t really see any other explanation. And I am sorry, but that is a shit excuse. I would’ve thought that you of all people would tell me the truth.” He didn’t sound angry, just disappointed and a little hurt. Somehow that felt worse. You’d rather him be mad at you than hurt by you. 

“I didn’t want to move out.” You said firmly. 

“Then why did you?” 

“I had to! I—I couldn’t live there anymore.” 

“But why?” He sounded desperate, begging for you to clue him in to any reason, anything at all that would help him understand. And god, as scared as you were of changing things by telling Charles how you really felt about him, you were infinitely more scared of losing him for good if you didn’t. 

“Because I’m fucking in love with you, Charles!” You blurted, finally. “I couldn’t live with you any longer, keeping this huge secret all the time, because it truly made me feel like I was about to explode. I just couldn’t do it anymore—pretend like everything was alright when every time I looked at you, all I could think about was how I felt about you! How much I felt for you.” Your voice rose with every word, emotion lacing your tone. 

You could feel the tears burning your eyes, threatening to fall no matter how much you willed them not to. “I just thought, maybe if we lived apart, if we didn’t see each other all the time, maybe those feelings would go away.” 

Charles blinked at you slowly. He scrubbed a hand over his cheek, across his mouth, letting it disappear into the neckline of his hoodie as he continued the motion near his jaw. Still, he said nothing. You weren’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad one, but still you continued. 

“So no, it wasn’t because of anything you did. Or maybe it was, for making it so fucking easy to fall in love with you. I don’t know. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t say anything to me, but I’m not sorry for making the decision on my own. It was for the best.”

There it was, out there in the open at last. It felt like a proverbial weight lifted off your shoulders, but at the same time like a thousand rocks sinking to the bottom of your stomach, because he wasn’t saying anything. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was how you’d fuck up the best friendship you’d ever had. 

Charles was silent for the longest time before he replied, and when he did, his voice was quieter than you’d ever heard it before. It felt unnerving. “You could’ve just told me.” 

“Told you?” You had to fight the urge to let out a bitter, watery laugh. “Telling your best friend you’ve fallen in love with him isn’t just something you mention at the bathroom sink one night.” 

“It is, if he feels the same way about you.” 

A coldness crept down your neck, shooting through your veins like you’d just had a bucket of ice cold water dumped over your head. 

“No you’re not—you don't...you can't.” You whispered, disbelieving.

Charles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “What, do you want me to prove it?” 

You couldn’t give him an answer even if you wanted to. You weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to say a damn word, just in case this was all a dream and you'd wake up any second, still alone, still without him there.

He must’ve taken your silence as a yes to his question, because he crossed the room in three strides, took your face in firm hands, and he kissed you. 

Despite your utter shock, you managed to kiss him back clumsily, fingers curling into his hoodie tightly. Charles kissed you like he was afraid to let you go, like you’d slip through his fingers if he wasn’t careful enough.

A guiding hand curled around the back of your neck, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss, but only for a few seconds before he broke away, panting. His forehead stayed pressed against yours, soulful green eyes boring into your own in total seriousness.

“Do you believe me now?” 

“Maybe.” You breathed, letting your nose bump against his gently. This was not a dream. Charles was real and here and one hell of a kisser (just as you suspected).

“I am in love with you.” He murmured, stroking his thumb over your cheek fondly. “I have been for a long time. And I never thought you would feel the same way.” 

“I love you, Cha.” You were suddenly brought back to last night, when you’d uttered the same words to him. Only this time, they had a whole different meaning to them. 

This time, you knew Charles loved you in the same way you loved him.

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[gothicgaycowboy]

✮ Aemond Targaryen NSFW alphabet ✮

My modern Aemond’s parents are Rhaenyra and Alicent <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

At first he’s not really sure what to do. He’s a bit awkward when it comes to dealing with the aftermath of these things. But he is nothing if not eager to learn.

Once he understands what you need he will be more than happy to provide it whether it be checking in on you verbally or just holding you after it’s over.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s a big fan of his hands now. He didn’t really think about them much before, but when you pointed out how much you liked them he began to appreciate them more. He likes how large and strong they are and how quickly he can make you cum with them.

He’s a tits man all the way. Big or small he doesn’t really care he just likes looking at them, sucking on them, and squeezing them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum basically)

He’s got a not so secret breeding kink. He doesn’t actually want kids right now but if you let him cum inside of you it’s game over.

‘You want me to fill you up don’t you? Want all my cum inside you so everyone will know you belong with me, hm?’

D = Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s got a real bad librarian fetish.

He’s embarrassed of how cliche it is. He’s not exactly sure why it happened, but he remembers one day accidentally stumbling upon Aegon’s porn mag collection and coming across a spread of a woman in a library wearing small framed glasses, her hair just pulled out of an up-do, wearing no shirt with her tight pencil skirt hiked up to pussy without any knickers on.

He ripped the spread out of the magazine knowing that if Aegon told their mums about it he would be in just as much trouble for owning a magazine like that. He doesn’t know how many times he wanked off to that picture, but he had to stop once the picture became too crumpled to even make out the shape of the woman anymore.

Maybe one day he’ll get the courage to ask you to do a little librarian role play with him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Aemond didn’t go through the classic teenage boy slag phase like all his other brother’s did. He didn’t lose his virginity till he was 19 but that doesn’t mean he’s a dud — on the contrary he’s probably the most educated about sex out of all his siblings.

His love of knowledge didn’t stop outside of school hours. He spent everyday after class making sure that when the time was right and he found the right person it would be just as good for them as it would be for him.

Did this lead him down some rabbit holes of knowledge about things a teenager boy shouldn’t know? Yes absolutely.

Did he regret it? Definitely not.

F = Favorite Position (this goes without saying, may include a visual)

Cowgirl. He loves watching you bounce on top of him, biting your lower lip to keep quiet for the neighbours.

He also enjoys the fact that it’s a position where either of you can be in control. There’s been many time where you have started out in control until he grips onto your hips slapping the skin of your ass against the front of his thighs.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous?)

Definitely more serious. There isn’t anything Aemond doesn’t take 100% seriously most of the time and sex isn’t any different. When it’s happening he’s a man on a mission.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes?)

Completely shaven bare, not that there was much hair to shave in the first place.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He’s surprisingly romantic in the moment. He knows what being used feels like and he never wants you to feel that way. Even when he gets rough he always reassures you it’s all for your pleasure.

J = Jack Off (how often do they do it? how do they feel about it?)

Almost never. He would much rather have you touch him than have to do it himself. He’s patient enough to wait if he must.

And when he knows he won’t see you for a while wether that be because one of you is going out of town, or just busy with work, he’ll request you send him some scandalous photos so he won’t miss you as much. That or phone sex.

K = Kink (what are they into?)

He’s a secret fem dom enjoyer, not necessarily in the traditional whips and chains way but he just likes it when you take control. Bossing him around, praising him, maybe a few smack here and there.

He’s also all about giving what he gets. Being called sir whenever he’s in charge while he simultaneously praises and degrades you. It’s a balancing act he throughly enjoys.

And some good old fashioned exhibitionism on the side.

L = Location (favourite places to have sex)

He really likes having sex on your couch because there’s a few positions that are way more comfortable there than on your bed. If he’s feeling adventurous he’ll definitely be up for bathroom sex (clean bathroom sex that is, he’s not an animal).

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going?)

He likes a challenge. Whenever you tease by telling him you’re not wearing any underwear, or playing footsies with him under the table, he is instantly growing a tent in his slacks.

He makes it his goal to get you back every time and get you back he does.

He’s also just a sucker for you dressing up for him. Lingerie or skimpy dress, if you’re wearing it, he is ripping it off.

N = Nope (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He can’t deal with anything unsanitary or unsafe. Choking you a little? Sure of course. Choking up with a belt? Not happening. He knows how fragile the human windpipe is.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He feels guilty about it but he definitely prefers receiving. It’s not like he hates giving — trust he can eat pussy like nobody’s business, but the feeling of your mouth wrapped around his cock is something nothing else could compare to in his mind. If you offer to let him fuck your throat he will take that opportunity so fast you won’t even be able to comprehend what’s happening before you’re kneeling on the floor.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

He can go either way but more often than not it’s pretty rough. You have spent many nights at his place and woken up the next morning with a limp and a sore ass.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often?)

He’s alright with them. They’re not his favourite because he doesn’t like to feel rushed when he’s fucking you — he takes his time, but if it’s the only option he needs his fix of you more than he needs to wait for the next time he has enough time to take it slow.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks?)

He’s not really experimental but if you tell him something you’re interested in trying he’s down to try it at least once (unless it’s one of his hard nos of course).

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)

He’s a pretty physically active guy and that shows with his stamina. He usually only taps out once he’s dehydrated.

T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Aemond doesn’t own any himself but he likes using the ones you own on you, especially the vibrator. He thinks it’s incredibly dumb when guys view sex toys as competition rather than tools that can be used to make sex better.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease?)

World’s biggest tease. It’s part of the fun of the game you two play together. Sitting across from each other at dinner with his family is pure torture for both of you. Sucking way too long on your dessert spoon while he wipes the corner of his mouth with his finger so he can suck it clean.

If he’s in a teasing mood he makes it everyone else’s problem. His poor mothers just wanted a nice innocent family dinner.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make?)

Not too loud when it comes to sounds besides grunts but a dirty little mouth on him. Runs in his family.

‘You’re my dirty whore, you know that right?’ ‘That’s it, cum all over my cock for me’

W = Wild Card (a random headcanon)

He has a throughly put together sex playlist. It’s a bunch of different genres and artists and he spent months working on it before he had sex for the first time.

X = X-Ray (what’s goin’ on under those clothes?)

Two words. Big balls.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive? how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Again he’s a pretty active guy, it’s like he’s in a competitive sport where the only competition is himself and the only goal is to fuck you until he physically cannot move anymore.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He can get pretty worn out after it’s done but he has a rule never to pass out before you. He’s a romantic in that way.

[helluvapoison]

How do you think Adam x reader x Lute(poly) work work out? Because I don’t think Adam would mind having a poly relationship if it’s with Lute because they trust each other, but I wonder how it would even go down to begin with

Adam x Reader x Lute

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• Honestly? It could go either way starting with Adam and you or Adam and Lute. He’s a greedy bastard, one lover isn’t enough for him! He’s owed it actually! Considering you know who stole his first two wives

• (This is a lie. Deep, deep— seriously however deep your thinking, it’s deeper— down he doesn’t feel like he deserves any)

• Regardless, Lute doesn’t care for you. She tolerates you for Adam’s sake but the difference in how she treats you both is enormous. He can get away with murder— literally! Where you can’t make a smoothie without doing it wrong

• In a way Lute sees all her sisters as potential, future competitors. She rivaled with Vaggie over Adam’s attention until she finally had it all for herself. Who’s to say that won’t happen again? That she won’t be the one to be tossed aside next time? Then you came along and made her fear so much more plausible. So you’re no different than them

• Except you were

• When Adam asked you to bring food, you never failed to ask what Lute wanted. You set three plates during date night or made reservations for three. You bought a third controller for Adam’s game that she never wanted to play in case she changed her mind

• When Adam knocked both of you out of bed in his sleep, twice, you sat up with a smile aimed right at Lute. Flaring, she was ready for you to banish her to the couch. You didn’t. You joked that you three would need an even bigger mattress. In the darkness of night she saw you in a new light, gently illuminated by the stars peaking in through the window

• Adam was fucking ecstatic to see you both having coffee that morning, throwing his arms around your necks, “Fucking finally! Aww, look at my two hotties getting along!”

• Lute didn’t open up overnight but immediately her treatment of you took off. Turns out she did have manners and used them in a much kinder, more genuine tone instead of sarcastically and only when Adam told her to. She praised you for little things even you didn’t notice, walked you to and from wherever you needed to go. So this is what it was like to be on her good side?

• Adam calls you two Double Trouble when you “bitch” at him

• You’re better at shrugging off his retorts

“You love us.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’d love you more if you didn’t nag me,” He mumbles

Lute’s head snaps in his direction, “What was that?”

“I said yeah, I love you! Fuck, get off my dick already.”

[wannabeschyulersister]

Clingy Carmen?

It had been a week and a half since you last saw Carmy. Your best friend from college was getting married in Maine and you wanted to be there with her to finalize any details and of course on her big day. You took your maid of honor duties very seriously.

You missed Carmen everyday. He would text you during the day to check on you but it wasn’t very often. You knew he was extremely busy so you didn’t take it to heart. He did FaceTime you once right when he got home one early morning. He looked exhausted so you didn’t chat too long.

On your last day in Maine, you got a text from Richie.

Richie: next time you go out of town, take my idiot cousin w/ you. He’s been a fuckin nightmare.

It was around nine in the evening when your flight got in. By the time you made it out of the airport and got a cab, it was close to half past ten. You knew it was still early and Carmy wouldn’t be home anytime soon.

To your surprise, he was already sitting on your sofa when you walked into your apartment. When he spotted you, it was like you could see the stress leave his body.

“Carmy? What are you doing here?”

He stood up and made his way towards you without saying a word. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him, “I missed you so fuckin’ much.”

You returned the hug without a second thought. He smelled of your body wash and cigarettes. A weird but familiar scent. “I missed you too.”

Carmy held onto you tight, but not painfully, as if he were scared you would slip right through his arms. “Richie sent me home. Said I was being a dick.”

You laughed a little. Your head resting on his chest. His heartbeat soothing you in that moment. “If Richie said that then you must’ve really been a dick. He texted me saying that I should bring you with me next time.”

“That dick.” He mumbled as he rested his head on top of yours. You rubbed his back softly and for the first time in a week and a half, Carmen felt at peace.

When you left, he felt this knot forming in his chest. It seemed to get bigger and bigger as the week went on. He felt restless and irritable. Now, with you in his arms, it felt like that knot was gone. He felt like he was finally able to breathe.

“I need to shower and get this airport smell off of me.”

Carmy reluctantly let you go but grabbed your hand in one and your luggage in another. He brought you to the bedroom and watched as you gathered clothes for a shower.

He sat on the toilet seat as you bathed and told him about the wedding. He wanted to hear all of the details about the week.

As soon as you stepped out of the shower and wrapped yourself with your towel, he was up and hugged you from behind. His head resting on your shoulder. You reached back and touched his hair softly, “You really missed me, huh?”

“You have no idea.” He mumbled as he kissed your bare shoulder.

He watched as you did your skin care routine and helped brush your hair. Carmy was delicate with it in a soothing way.

“Did you eat somethin’? I should’ve asked when you first got here.”

You nodded, “Yeah, I grabbed a sandwich at the airport.”

Once you were dressed for the night in your favorite pajamas, you made your way to the living room when Carmy right on your heels. He had a movie playing from before but he hadn’t been paying too much attention to it. He had been antsy for your arrival.

You sat down on the sofa and he sat right next to you. Arm around your shoulders and he pulled you closer so you were resting against his chest. He breathed in the scent of your floral shampoo.

“How has things been at the restaurant this past week?” You asked him as he trailed his fingers up and down your left arm.

He sighed, “Horrible. We only have six weeks until we open and it seems like everything is shit.”

You hated leaving Carmy in the middle of the restaurant’s renovation. You had a full-time job that made you unavailable to help during work hours. The second you were off for the day, you made your way to The Bear. Carmy appreciated you being there for him to help with any decisions where he needed the opinion of Sydney or you.

Sometimes, you just being there to give him a quick kiss or a comforting touch on his arm made a world of a difference. He felt safe whenever you were near. Like he could handle any shit that was thrown his way.

“You know I’m here to help with anything that you need.” You told him softly.

Carmy kissed the top of your head, “I know. I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

[neoplatinum]

we can't be friends - ariana grande | minatozaki sana

summary: the earth only has one moon, are you really the moon to sana's earth?

pairing: childhood-friend!sana x fem!reader

themes: extremely angsty, best friends to ?? to ??, internalized homophobia, gender dysphoria, sana's not too great of a friend, reader is a pushover until she isn't, implied sex, original male character, [----] x reader

wc: 3.2k

(side b: north and south poles | minatozaki sana)

from what you've learned in school, at the very early age of kindergarten is that the earth only has one moon, only one. mars has two moons: phobos and deimos.

when you were kids, you were called deimos, sana was called mars, and fuji was called phobos. it was always you three together, running through the streets of the countryside of japan.

causing so much trouble for your administrators, running around yelling down the halls of your school, the terrible trio of class 2-A. leaving school was always fun too, running around for snacks and jumping at the sight of cats.

you and sana were always closer, whenever fuji had to go home early because of his strict extracurriculars, you spent time with sana. walking by the train tracks, looking for lost coins for the vending machine or even staying for dinner with sana’s parents. it felt like it was you three taking on the small town.

until it didn’t. when middle school rolled around, you were excited to see them two after a couple of weeks of summer. each of you was busy with other things in life, making it hard to meet each other. so on the first day of school, you strolled in, ready to take on the new school year with sana and fuji by your side, when you noticed they weren’t talking much to each other.

fuji found basketball friends in his group, clinging to them like they were his new lifeline. sana has gotten close to the popular girls, they were nice but very superficial, all having drama with each other but in front of the group, they all faked smiles for each other.

you found yourself in between two different worlds, you tried calling to them after school, but they both dismissed you saying they had extracurriculars. fuji had gone off to play with his friends during basketball practice, while sana participated in school government association.

you got tricked into becoming treasurer for the sga that very year, so it was nice to still be around sana. although you could feel her distance.

it isn’t until one spring afternoon, you feel your first ever heartbreak. sana rushes into the sga room while you were napping on a desk.

she taps your shoulder excitedly, “wake up!”

you rub your eyes and focus on sana, who’s shoving a letter in your hand. you read the first line and yeah, your heart is crushed.

“fuji confessed to me!” she shouts excitedly, doing a little dance by herself as you read the lines.

“oh, congrats.” you hand the letter back to her, she looks at you a bit puzzled by your simple reaction.

“he asked me out! im so excited.” she explains, going into detail about their supposed first date. “he might kiss me, what do you think?”

“if you want to kiss him, then kiss him.”

she rolls her eyes at that, of course she knows that. that’s not what she’s implying.

“what i mean is, i’ve never had my first kiss! i don’t know what to do.” she goes on, thinking about it seriously. “what if he kisses me, and i suck and he doesn’t want to kiss me.”

“sana, if he thinks you being a bad first kisser is a deal breaker then dump him.”

you explain, placing your head back on your arms.

“you have to help me!”

“help?”

“kiss me, pretend you’re fuji.”

“no way sana.”

“why? too much of a chicken to kiss me?”

“no im not!”

"bawk bawk bawk" sana mocks you. making flapping arm motions to imitate a chicken.

“fine!” you hold yourself together (as much as you can) and place your lips gently against sana, pulling her in by the neck. caressing her cheek before letting her go. her eyes are dazed.

“wow yeah, that was good.” she fiddles with her school skirt, “i wish you were a boy, you’d make a girl very happy kissing her like that.” she blushes and leaves you alone, you feel that jagged break in your heart tear a little longer.

your tears don't stop as you try and go back to taking a nap, feeling your breathing getting heavy and you stay the rest of the afternoon, crying about not being born a guy for sana.

--

that was the last time you really talked to sana, too hurt that you cut your hair short the next day in the bathroom sink. crying tears into the porcelain bowl, with tears filling around your choppy hair. when you finally stop, you try liking the idea of it being short like a boys. but sana doesn’t spare you a glance. suddenly the hair feels too choppy and the air that you didn't feel when your hair was long starts to bother you.

it doesn't bother you for long, once your hair grows back. it feels right, like you were meant to look this pretty and feminine. you stay away from both sana and fuji as much as you can.

until one day sana knocks rapidly at your door, you haven't had her over in years. high school created even more distance between you two, you found your own people to be around. people that never overlapped with sana and fuji.

--

until you see sana staring at you from across the door, eyes still sparkling as they always have, in that charming look. and the longer face, the warm smile and comforting scent of flowers. as much she is the sana you remember, you don't think she's the same sana you once knew.

"hi."

"hi sana, are you okay?" you let her in. and it's like you're transported back to when you were thirteen, letting sana come over whenever she needed to complain about fuji and his "boy" tendencies. now that you're both 18 and ready to set off into the real world, you feel a little strange having sana visit.

"yeah, i need your help." she starts, dropping her bag onto the floor. you feel your heart rate spike a bit, was sana in trouble?

"help with what?" you offer her a bottle of her favorite drink, royal milk tea.

"you remembered." she says softly, grabbing it and downing it in a few quick seconds, a sign she's nervous and with the tapping of her foot. you're feeling anxious just at the sight. "fuji asked to have sex."

you nearly spit out your own water, "what?" your eyes are wide and you stare at sana as she keeps her eyes away from you.

"i need your help."

"did he do something sana? i'll kill him myself." you get up.

"no, none of that. i want to, have sex i mean. i just can't with him first."

"why not?"

"well, i...i want my first time to not be him. i just know it in my heart."

"okay. so how am i supposed to help you?"

"be my first."

"sana! you can't ask that of me."

"why not? we're best friends, of course we can."

"sana no, you love fuji, he should be your first if you love him. you're dating him too, that would be cheating."

"i dont, i dont think, i just." she shakes her head. "it can't be with him first." she ends it softly, hands in her lap. looking like she's been scolded. you feel the guilt bubbling up in your stomach; here she was being vulnerable, and you just accused her of being a cheater.

"what's really going on?" you ask, she's not making sense anymore.

"i need you to be my first, i want you to be. it can't be anyone else." sana is firm. standing up and taking your hands in hers. with her eyes looking into yours like that, like she knows how much you love and adore her. you can't find yourself to say no, even if it betrays fuji.

"okay."

"yeah?" her eyes light up.

"yeah." you pull sana upstairs, and begging her to forget about fuji, just for one night. to only focus on you and to pull out those pretty sounds of sana uttering your name into the night.

you don't stop until you feel sana against you, like it's where she belongs, right in your arms.

--

when sana leaves in the morning, you feel that gash that you've been trying so hard to heal get ripped apart again. she thanks you like you're someone who was there to provide a service to her, like that's the only purpose you served her that night.

as if you didn't pour your heart out as you kissed down her torso, cherishing her body like the gods sculpted it. as if she isn't the only woman in the world, you begin to think maybe that's what you were made for. someone to exist for sana, and never with her.

this hurtful thought bumps around your brain, hitting every surface of it, you feel your heart break into two. like you're led on a leash by sana, without her letting you ever leave.

it becomes a habit, a habit you can't break. you circling between the sana and fuji whenever it was the holidays or birthday parties. each year you feel more and more of your soul slip away. you can't begin to tell where your identity begins and ends without sana.

doesn't help that fuji is a good man for sana. always considerate and careful, giving her the space and time she needs when she's overwhelmed. you think sana chose well, a good man in her life that'll never waver his loyalty for her.

but it leaves you in disarray, sana contacting you for her relationship problems. leaving fuji all alone as she calls you to escape. weeks spent away from fuji, where you two meet hidden away from the world. a hidden place filled with drunk kisses and hookups, ones you would never utter to fuji.

you being invited at her parties, seeing his arms draped around her like you weren't caressing them just days ago. it's all too much, you don't know if you can be friends with her. ever again.

until she marries fuji, she hands you their invitation card herself. how dare she? after years of being a secret she hands you a knife for you to stab into your heart, and she does it with a smile. explaining how happy she is to have the wedding of her dreams, while you feel the woman of your dreams slip right through your fingers.

but then the reality hits, she was never yours to begin with, you two are simply friends. just best friends that know each other's bodies too well.

you play your part well, giving a dedicated speech to them two. reminiscing of the early days of you as a trio. days of mischief, talking about learning of their feelings for each other, making jokes about how they were polar opposites, destined to find each other magnetically. you leave out the part where you think you would fit well with sana even if you aren't the opposing magnet.

you try and stay away from her as much as you can after the wedding, to save your own heart (as much there is left). blocking her number and taking time away from japan. going overseas to travel, and it works out well, you meet a woman named momo, you don't mention the woman to sana. you don't hear from sana and you feel your heart calm a bit, like it's finally able to take a break.

when you return to japan, you find her at your doorsteps, fallen asleep at your door. she wakes up to the sight of you and hugs you immediately, complaining about how worried she was that you disappeared. you don't mention how you blocked her number. letting sana into your apartment and she drops the biggest news on you that you could ever expect: shes pregnant.

"congratulations sana!" you fake a smile and she goes on to explain that it's going to be a little girl. and she's so excited to dress her up and have a daughter.

you feel like you're hearing static noise as she goes on, sitting on your couch talking animatedly about the new nursery and all the books she's been reading about motherhood. it isn't until she finally steps away to go home that you realize that you never said more than congratulations.

--

months later, she births the beautiful baby girl. you wait outside the room, a balloon in one hand and a pack of diapers in the other. the nerves of having to see sana after so long made you vomit in the hospital bathroom just ten minutes ago. you try to focus on anything else, the sterile walls, the smell of sanitizer, the sounds of nurses chatting. then you see fuji step outside, looking like a tired first-time father.

"congratulations fuji!" you say as you pass him the diapers. he laughs at the sight and thanks you before saying he's going outside to get some food and that sana is awake.

you step into the hospital room and hear the rhythmic heart monitor and low beeps of machines. there sana is, exhausted as ever but happily babbling to her baby. you can see the little baby in the swaddle. you walk up to the bedside.

"hi sana, congratulations on your new baby." you tie the balloon to her bed, and she smiles at you, tired but always warm. "she's beautiful, sana." you wash your hands and poke at her cheek.

"isn't she? i think it's too early to say, but she might have my eyes." you look back down and see the baby, eyes closed in bliss. you think they look like sana's too. ones that you used to look at as kids.

"i want to name her after you." she starts, gently caressing her head. you stop, leaning back quickly.

“dont do that sana, don’t give it the same curse you gave me.” you bite out. sana stops caressing the baby's face to look at you. “forced to love someone who will never love them back.”

"what are you talking about?" sana says gently, you've never raised your voice at her in all the years you've known each other.

"sana, you can't give her my name. i forbid you to." you say sternly; after how much she destroyed you, you're not letting her name her daughter that.

"but, why?" she's still perplexed, eyes wide.

"it's not right." you look away from sana, years of pain resurfacing just at the idea. "you really hurt me, i don't want you to name your daughter after me."

she doesn't press you on the matter anymore, anxious eyes darting all over the room, trying to find an escape from this conversation.

"what about being her godmother?"

"i'm moving away sana."

it's like the final nail in the coffin, both phrases being said at the same time. you realize there's no other way to say it, not over text or a call. it's better to say it here, ripping off the bandaid completely.

"moving? where are you moving?" you can hear the heartbeat machine beeping faster, and you see her heart rate climbing steadily.

"korea, i got a job over there." you say dismissively.

"oh wow, when do you move?" sana's voice is timid as she tries to hold back tears at the idea.

"i leave in a week." you say, picking your stuff up getting ready to leave. "congratulations again sana, your baby is beautiful and healthy. tell fuji that he'll be a good father, i know it." and with that you step to leave, and just as you turn the knob you can hear it, the sound of sana crying.

you try not to cry yourself, but you can't stay here. orbiting around two people who are building their life together. you weren't supposed to be here to begin with. earth never had two moons. you nearly bump into fuji when he opens the door.

"oh fuji, i'm sorry i couldn't stay long." you offer when you see him outside, food in hand and excited to talk to you, he smiles sadly. giving you a hug as you walk outside.

feeling like for once you control your own life, your love is yours, and no longer sana's.

"stay a while longer, sana is so excited to see you!" he says, trying to urge you to come back inside.

"it's okay, we'll see each other around." you turn to look back at sana, and she stares right into you with tears running down her face and glaring at you. you just told your final lie to sana, closing the door behind them, like you closed your relationship with sana.

--

you don't see sana for years; it's strange. growing up with so much hurt and pain made it difficult to enjoy your romantic relationships, but you realize there is always a person for you, yours being hirai momo, not sana minatozaki.

here at incheon international airport, you stretch from your seat, needing to get some movement in before you sit in that cramped airplane seat for hours. so you make a beeline to the bathroom, walking directly into a young girl.

she falls backwards, nearly hitting her head on the floor, but you catch her in time.

"hi sweetie you okay?" you pat her down, pulling her shirt down. she nods at you and you see her eyes, and you feel your memories shift back to when you were five years old, meeting that girl that sat near you in class 2-A. she runs towards someone.

you stand up and recognize those eyes immediately, sana minatozaki in the flesh after five years. eyes wide as she stares at you. fuji right by her side.

you can see the recognition in sana's eyes. you walk right up to them, offering the couple a hug. sana's arms grip onto you so tightly you feel your ribs in her hold. then you feel a tug at your pant leg.

you turn around and smile at the girl by your leg.

"say hi hana, this is sana and fuji." your little girl waves to them hi, while sana is still staring at you. fuji starts congratulating you, excited to see that you have a daughter. you let out a laugh. then you feel a pat on your back, with momo walking up to kiss you.

then you let your daughter down to play with sana's daughter. eyes fond at the two little girls chasing after each other.

“it’s been a while.” sana's voice cuts into your thinking.

“yeah, i guess it has.” you reply, finally looking at her after so long. sana gulps, willing the tears away.

"honey, you’re crying.” fuji says wiping away sana's tear, you smile at that. he's good for her.

“oh i didn't notice.” sana laughs, rapidly wiping her tears away.

you let the three of them talk, momo joining in and introducing herself. you're left feeling a bit better about your decision to leave sana's side all those years ago. waiting for her to love you back would've costed your relationship with momo, especially since you would have never had hana.

it's important to know when being friends turns into we can't be friends anymore.

--

a/n: hehehehehe, angst is so fun to write, that's probably why it's everywhere in my writing. thank you to the anon who requested this! i wrote this in like 6hrs. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[wyattjohnston]

closer than i ever even knew - quinn hughes

summary: quinn saves the day and goes mini-golfing

word count: 1.1k

note: happy belated birthday @fallinallincurls! this is much, much shorter than i anticipated and i hope it's short but sweet. muchas gracias to @offside-the-lines <3

bingo: friends to lovers | witty banter | fake dating | it’s always been you

It starts, like any good romance movie does, with an event she doesn’t want to go to and a friend willing to save the day.

The event isn’t even big or fancy, which makes the whole thing so funny. She’s under no obligation to bring anyone, let alone a romantic partner, but, during the busiest hour of her week, a coworker had asked if she was going to, and the ‘yes’ had slipped from her mouth before she’d even realised it was happening.

Thus, Quinn Hughes was playing mini golf at a "team bonding" event her company decided was a good idea.

Her intention hadn’t been to earn any brownie points by bringing him—he had volunteered himself, after all—but the second they arrived and her boss spotted Quinn Hughes, Captain of the Vancouver Canucks, she immediately grouped them with her, her wife and the next nearest couple.

They wasted no time in heading to the first hole, her boss taking the lead and making sure they weren’t stuck behind anybody else. Which turned out to be a good thing because Quinn was taking practice swings with the putter.

She rolled her eyes as she asked, “Are you taking this seriously, or are you having fun?”

“Are we on a team?”

“No, it’s individual.”

“Then I’m taking it seriously,” Quinn answered easily. “No way am I letting you win.”

The questions came through shortly after they started, nosing in on the relationship lie that resulted in Quinn joining them for the day. Well, they weren’t aware that it was a lie, of course.

Luckily for her, Quinn was all too happy to do the talking.

The lingering looks and touches had her wondering why Quinn pursued hockey when he would have been just as successful as an actor. Even though he was determined to win, the simple repositioning of her hands on the putter and the minute correction of the position of her hips were leaving her short of words.

“Is this good enough for you, Captain?” she called over her shoulder, teasing Quinn as she lined up for her next shot. The wiggle in her hips was joking—mostly involuntary even—but it immediately drew Quinn’s eyes, even though he was mid-conversation.

“You’ve got great form, babe.”

A wink accompanied the sentence and she had to look away so that her blush wouldn’t be seen by her coworkers. Or by Quinn.

It did mean that she turned around and focused on her putting, leading to a nice hole-in-one.

At various points throughout the afternoon, Quinn’s hand found hers. Their fingers intertwined in a perfect fit, and it took all her power to not act like it was a strange occurrence; she desperately wanted to get out of her head and enjoy those moments while they lasted.

Her boss, finally taking a break from talking about hockey, asked about how they met. The looks sent Quinn’s way were a discrete panic, but he didn’t seem to be facing the same problem.

“We had the same routine running the Sea Wall—seemed like fate that we kept running into each other when my schedule’s so chaotic, you know?” he answered, providing an entirely accurate retelling that had her shocked he hadn’t opted for something a bit more romantic. “She literally fell for me.”

“Me?” she nearly screeched, any confusion she was feeling or fluttering in her stomach was immediately overtaken by incredulity. “You tripped over a dog lead!”

“You distracted me, what can I say?”

There was some cooing that followed, and Quinn refused to make eye contact despite the cocky smile on his face. It was becoming increasingly difficult to tell whether it was all just for show.

Her boss ended up winning, after a lot of effort and a competitive nature that would rival anybody Quinn played with or against. She and Quinn shared many sideways glances with raised eyebrows at just how competitive she was.

The world stopped spinning when Quinn leaned in and whispered directly into her ear, “Still beat you, though.”

As they were leaving, Quinn took her hand again. It was so casual that she wasn’t sure any thought had gone into it at all—and with nobody looking their way, it did nothing to heighten their ruse. She glanced down at their hands, too distracted to even say a proper goodbye as Quinn earnestly told everyone he hoped to see them again soon—that also added to her confusion.

The streets of Vancouver were deeply familiar, etched into her brain from a young age with every slight raise in the concrete committed to muscle memory, so she knew that they were headed towards the water and away from either of their apartments the second Quinn chose a direction. The Sea Wall surrounding the city was her favourite part of it with nothing else even coming close.

“Weird time for a run?” she asked. She wiggled her fingers just to test the pressure. Quinn squeezed back. “I don’t want to go for a run right now.”

“Nobody is going for a run,” he said gently. “I didn’t even want to be going for runs but I saw you on that first day and kept going out just in case I’d see you again.”

She screwed up her face, the disbelief that ran through her had her pulling her hand from Quinn’s and huffing, “Don’t be stupid.”

“How am I being stupid?” There was a tinge of hurt in his voice that she so rarely heard; she felt it right in her chest.

“I don’t know, Q. I just don’t believe you went out of your way to find me. That’s not…” Her voice was muffled by the sound of the water rushing against the Sea Wall. “That doesn’t happen in real life. To me.”

Quinn stared at her, seemingly taking in every inch of her face, and she could only imagine the expression she was making. If she looked as pathetic as she felt, she would need to make sure she never saw him again.

“It’s happening to you.” he stressed. “Today was… Today… I’d like today to be every day.”

She had so many things she wanted to say but no ability to make them come out of her mouth. She felt no less pathetic than she did a moment earlier, though she did feel a little more hopeful. It had been a good day, even if confusing, and she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been wanting something similar since they first met years prior.

“Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because you’re Quinn Hughes? Because you’re the Captain of the Vancouver Canucks? We’ve just spent the entire day with your ass being kissed—you could have your pick of any woman in Vancouver. We’ve been friends for like, what? Three years now and you’ve never—”

“I am now. I don’t want anybody else. I want you. It’s always been you.”

i would very much love to hear your thoughts if you have any, and would love if you'd reblog and share it with some more people <3

[dilfl0v3rss]

basketball player!ony who takes his career very seriously. he was the star in high school when you met him and he is the star now at his big name d1 college.

basketball player!ony who’s been scouted by many nba teams, but refuses to go into the draft until he gets his degree. you and him have been together since freshman year of high school and he doesn’t plan on changing that no matter how much recognition he gets.

basketball player!ony who is about 6’5, playing as his schools starting point guard. he averages about twenty-six points a game and wears the number 3. sometimes basketball player!ony can get very hard on himself when he doesn’t perform the way he wants to and he always needs you there to help. whether it be getting his rebounds or watching his previous film, basketball player!ony always looked to you first.

basketball player!ony who begged you to go to the same college as him, not thinking he would survive being away from you and you didn’t mind because you felt the exact same way.

basketball player!ony who has to shoot down different girls everyday. constantly throwing away love letters and gifts from the many girls on campus. sometimes splitting the candy he’d get with you.

basketball player!ony who is rarely seen without you unless he is at practice or a game and during those games he always made sure you are seated in the nearest seat to the bench. throwing you a quick wink with a smirk when he’d make a tough shot.

basketball player!ony who’d always bring you up in his interviews after games.

“onyankopon what a great game tonight. you did spectacular ending with thirty-seven points, twelve assists and eleven rebounds. how does it feel to be such a big asset to the team at such a young age?”

“uhhm i just come out here and perform like i normally do. i love this game and it’d be disrespectful of me to not play at my full potential as often as i can. i also wanna give a shout-out to my beautiful girlfriend y/n. there have been nights where it’s just me and her watching film, breaking each game down to make me better. i wouldn’t have made it this far without you mama. i love you”

he’d say, looking straight into the camera as if you were watching him through it. (the interview went viral btw)

basketball player!ony who has you wear his chains for each game since he can’t wear jewelry while playing, not letting you take them off until the two of you got to his dorm room.

“fuck keep ridin’ it just like that baby.” he groaned as you bounced up and down on your boyfriends dick, pretty gold chains dangling from your neck as you slowed your pace. he had just finished a game and needed to get you home immediately after seeing a random from the crowd try to flirt with you, snatching your attention away from him while he was killing his opponents. one of his favorite things about you was that you loved basketball just as much as he did, watching every game without batting an eye.

you gave your boyfriend your full attention and even gave him criticism to show for how much you were paying attention. the fact that some random nigga can snatch that attention from him boiled his blood. his legs were tired and already getting sore from the game as he lay comfortably under you. “daddy m’tireddd” you have been going at it for almost an hour, but basketball player!ony knew you were a good girl and wouldn’t stop until he said to. “ion care. keep that same pace until i nut in you”

basketball player!ony who also let you pick his jersey number.

it was the night after graduation when he had your legs pressed up to your chest on the bed. basketball player!ony fed you deep strokes as he talked to you about your future with him. “how many babies you want daddy t’give you?” he groaned in your ear while pushing himself deeper. you moaned out loud as you felt him kiss your cervix, eyes rolling back as you were slowly going in and out of awareness. “c’mon mama i need an answer it’s important”

you had no idea why he was so eager for an answer but you knew he wasn’t going to let you cum until you told him. he let go of your legs and held both of your hands in his. staring you in the eyes as he slowed his speed and deepened his strokes. you were falling more in love with this man everyday. “i know you like that, but i need you to give me an answer or daddy gon have to stop.” your back arched off the bed as your boyfriend hit a particularly sensitive spot in you. he knew you were close, but he really needed you to answer his question. he stopped completely, staying inside of you as he waited for a reply. you mewled, upset at the lack of friction. “i know mama i know. just tell me how many and i’ll fuck you ‘til you wet this bed up.”

“t-three.” you whispered. it was barely audible, but he heard you, asking again for clarification. “speak up baby” “t-threeee ohh myyy goddd daddy waitttt” you freed one of your hands before pawing at his stomach. he pounded into you at a quick pace, drawing your orgasm out quickly as you spasmed around his dick. “and ima take care of you and them when i go pro i swear. they not gon have to worry about a damn thing and ima wear that number on my back to remind the both of us who we doin this shit for” the two of you came together, holding each other as fatigue got the best of you and ushered the both of you to sleep. your boyfriend never forgot what he swore to do and kept up with it through college.

basketball player!ony never started a game without first kissing his three fingers and pressing them on his jersey. letting you know he always remembered his promise to you.

[bloatedandalone04]

You Made it Shine

➪the one where you’ve been feeling a bit lonely, and leon intends on making it up to you.

Warnings: first time daddy kink writer - be gentle, age gap, 18+, daddy kink obvi, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (leon just really wants to knock you up), breeding kink, swearing, scratching, biting, hair pulling, choking, y’all are f r e a k y

Word Count: 4.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | Thank you for 3.6k followers mwah

Some trash reality TV show played in the background while you flipped to another page in your textbook. You had been given a fucking stupid amount of homework to do by next Monday, and you were beginning to feel stressed out about it all. 

It didn’t help that you missed your boyfriend, either. 

Leon had been very busy lately, and you only really saw him when he got in bed with you after eleven PM. 

While you didn’t know much about what he did for work, you knew it required him to be gone a lot and he had to dedicate most of his time to it. 

You huff quietly as you scribble out a word you misspelt before trying again, glancing over at your phone when it went off from its place on the floor beside you. 

Daddy 💖: Gonna be another late night, I think. I’m sorry, baby, I know you wanted to watch that new movie. I promise we’ll get to it soon. Be home in a few hours ❤️

You huff again and quickly type out a message before tossing your phone aside, knowing damn well how childish you are acting, but also not caring at all. 

I’m bored, Leon. I miss you. Let me know when you have time for me. 

As you started to read over the notes you took during your lecture earlier today, your phone went off again within seconds of you sending that last text. 

Daddy 💖: Don’t be like that, princess, I’m feeling bad enough as it is. I’ll be home soon and then we can figure out a time that works for both of us. Only a few more weeks then I’ll get to use some of my unpaid days off, and I’ll be spending every one with you. 

You bite your lip and decide not to answer, already feeling a bit bad for how you acted in your previous message to him. 

Leon worked very hard and put in more hours than most people, and you knew he got into that kind of work early on in his life. He didn’t tell you really anything about his job, but you knew he started when he was twenty one and had been in the same field ever since, now at the age of thirty three. 

You were only twenty two, and you seriously couldn’t imagine putting yourself through half the things he did, so you had to appreciate his dedication, even if just a little bit. 

After reading for a while, you ventured off to yours and Leon’s shared room and changed into a lacy, black two piece pyjama set so you could be a bit more comfortable while you studied. 

You ate a few pieces of strawberries you had cut up for lunch earlier as you skimmed through your notes, the time passing by quicker than you thought it would. 

Before long the front door was swinging open and slamming shut, and the sound of heavy footsteps were heard approaching the living room. “Baby,” Leon rasped as he stood in the doorway. 

You look up at him from your spot on the carpet, your books and pages scattered around you. “Hi,”

Leon shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the armchair next to the door before he was slowly crouching down and meeting your eye level. “Hi,” he said back. His eyes raked over the mess of papers and the tired look on your face, his heart aching a bit at how neglected you looked. “I was worried about you.”

You leaned into his touch when he reached over and ran his knuckles along the curve of your jaw. “Why?”

“You didn’t answer my text,” he stated as his gaze dipped down to your lips. 

Shrugging, you look back at your book. “I felt bad for how I acted,”

“For how you acted?” Leon laughed quietly and moved so he is kneeling next to you. “Baby, I’m the one who cancelled our plans, again. I’m the one who feels bad.” 

You tilt your head when his chin comes to rest on your shoulder. “It’s alright,” you murmured as you felt his lips softly brush the skin behind your ear. “Work comes first. I know that.”

“Not when it comes to you,” he corrected as he moved to pull you onto his lap right there on the living room floor. “You should know that, instead.”

You were finding it hard to focus with his body pressed right up against your back, and his hands running up and down the skin of your thighs, but you played it up as if his actions didn’t faze you. 

Until he leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of your neck, moving upwards to whisper, “You look so pretty, baby,” and you just could not stop the shiver that ran through your body. “Did you wear this for me?” 

You were helpless as you nodded, glancing over at the time on your phone and seeing that Leon had only been at work for another hour before getting home, and not a few like he said. “Did you rush home for me?”

“Everything I do is for you,” he reminded you as he trailed his mouth along your shoulder blade. “Everyday, you’re on my mind, baby.”

You bite your lip as you turn your head so you can look into his annoyingly pretty eyes. Pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, you close your eyes as you lean back against him. “I missed you, daddy,”

Leon groaned and pressed a proper kiss to your mouth, slipping his hands under your shirt as he murmured, “I missed you, too, princess. Fuck, did I ever,”

You turn fully so you’re straddling his lap and grip his shoulders with your fingers. “Touch me,” you nearly begged, missing the feeling of his hands on your body after going without it for nearly two straight weeks. “Please.”

Leon cooed at your pout, reaching up to pull at your bottom lip with his thumb. “My sweet girl,” he said, more so to himself. “I haven’t been taking very good care of you, have I?”

You shook your head and pressed your knees into the carpet on either side of his hips. “No, you always take good care of me,” you promised, tangling your hands in his hair. “I just miss you.”

He nodded and placed a noisy kiss on your lips. “I’m right here, baby,” he swore as his hands drifted lower, taking the lace of your panties between his fingers and pulling it down with him. “I’ll take care of you, like I always do.” He said against your mouth as he gently lifted you up and placed you down so your back is against the papers that were scattered all over the carpet. 

They crinkle under you, but you don’t care as he pulls the lace from your body and immediately replaces it with his lips. You sigh and jolt a bit as you reach down to grip his head with one hand. “Daddy,”

Leon grunted against your core and the vibrations had you bucking up against him. “That’s right, baby,” he muttered, running the tips of his fingers along your wet folds. “You needed your daddy, huh?”

“Always,” you answer, spreading your thighs a bit more as he further delved into you. “I always need you, Leon.” 

He hummed against your clit. “I need you, too,” he promised, wrapping his free arm around your thigh and pulling your body closer to his greedy mouth. “Every single fucking day I need you. You’ve made me so damn pathetic, princess.”

You moaned and arched your back a bit, further scrunching up the notes you took. “You’re so good to me, daddy,” you nearly whisper. “That doesn’t make you pathetic. It’s so attractive, you don’t even know how hot you are.”

Leon smiled up at you in appreciation. “I bet you don’t realize how hot you are, either, sweet girl,” he says. “And you taste so fucking good, I could stay down here forever.”

It was a sight that was nearly too hot to handle. Leon hadn’t even been home for five minutes before he was going down on you, still wearing his work clothes, which consisted of black jeans, a black shirt that fit him so well and showed off his toned chest, and boots. 

You always thought he looked too hot to be going to work, but then you realized that he simply looked too hot all the time. How you managed to get him all to yourself, you’d never know, but he is somehow completely obsessed with you in every possible way. 

“That’s fine with me,” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair and looking down at him. “I’m always so wet for you.”

Leon groaned loudly and began to fuck his fingers into your greedy core. “I know, sweet girl,” he mumbled, coating his fingers in your wetness with every thrust of his hand. “You’re so sensitive. I can just look at you and you’d get wet for me.”

“I can’t help it,” you say quietly. “You’re so hot, daddy.”

“I’m not teasing you, baby,” he promised, kissing your inner thigh as he continued to move his fingers in and out of you. “Not at all. I love how much you need me and how much I turn you on. It’s the same way for me. You make me so hard, it’s painful sometimes.”

You gasp out a laugh that quickly turns into a moan when he curls his fingers in order to be able to reach your sweet spot. “Daddy,” you whined, bucking your hips up as best as you could against his firm hold. “Please.”

“I know, princess,” he hummed, fucking his fingers hard into you and loving the way your face scrunched up at the pleasure. “I know. You just need your daddy to make you come, huh?” 

“Please,” you say again, reaching down to grip his hand in yours. His other picked up the pace and his thumb brushed against your clit with every thrust. “Please.”

Leon kissed all along your thighs, never taking his eyes off your face. “I love it when you beg, baby,” he says. “But you don’t need to right now. I’m gonna get you off so good, I promise.”

“Leon,” you nearly yelled as his mouth returned to your clit. He sucked on it harshly and felt as your thighs shook a bit.  He moved down when he felt your release coat his fingers, and delved his tongue within your walls to taste you. 

“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he praised, sliding his sopping fingers out of you and licking them clean. “You taste so good, baby. So sweet.”

You whine and pull him down on top of you. “Please, daddy,” you begged, kissing him deeply as he settled between your thighs. “I need you. Want you to fuck me so badly.” 

He tsked, bracing himself by his forearms on either side of your head. Next to where your hair is sprawled out was a sheet from the lecture you had earlier, and Leon grinned at the small amount of drool that left your lips and landed on the paper. It smudged your name and made the ink bleed a bit, but you didn’t care at all. “Look at you,” he groaned, licking up the line of salvia from your mouth to your jaw. “My smart girl, all hot and bothered for me. You want me to fuck you stupid, huh?”

“Yes,” came your instant reply. 

The sight of you was something that couldn’t even be found on the internet. You were so pure and so rare, and all his. 

You were too smart for your own good, yet he could easily get you all dumb for him and his dick. He can easily get you desperate for him. 

“Wait,” he requested, grinding against you when you whined at the word. Your whole body shook as his jeans brushed against your wet and sensitive core, and it was almost enough to have you push him away. “See? You’re not ready to get off again. Not yet.” 

He leaned in to kiss all over your collarbones and shoulders, one hand reaching down to push up your flimsy top. Your breasts spill free from the thin fabric and he moves further down in order to wrap his lips around your nipple. 

“I’ll get you ready,” he promised as he swirled his tongue around the taunt peak, his fingers moving to pinch and pull at your neglected one. “Get you all nice and ready for daddy’s dick.” 

“Mm, fuck,” you whined, raking your fingers through his hair and pulling on the light strands. “Leon…Fuck, I love you.”

He grunted against your nipple, pulling away and leaving a strand of salvia behind.  “I love you so much more, baby. My pretty girl,” he leaned back on his knees, draping your thighs over his as he slowly rocked his hips into yours. You looked so fucked out already, with your tits on full display, your thighs coated in your own release, and your lips swollen and wet. Leon had never seen a prettier sight. 

The front of his jeans quickly began to sport a damp spot from the way he rubbed against your dripping core, and he never wanted to wash them. He could live happily forever while just being covered in your sweet scent. 

You whimpered as you played with your nipples, the slow grind of his hips beginning to work you up again. Your quiet gasps and moans were music to his ears, and Leon was prepared to take tomorrow off just so he can spend the whole day eliciting more sounds from you.

The cool metal of his zipper against your heated clit had your eyes rolling back, your chest lifting up and causing your notes to become wrinkled under you. “Daddy,” you whispered, grinding up against him. He stilled his hips and let you rub against him, his eyes following the lift and drag of your core against his painfully hard dick through his jeans. 

“There you go,” he rasped, gripping your waist and giving you a sharp thrust. You moan loudly, bucking against him desperately. “You sound so sweet, baby. So good for me.” 

“Please,” you whisper. 

He pulls away and watches as your core drips with arousal, sliding down your folds and wetting your anatomy notes without a care in the world. He wanted to lick it up so badly, but refrained from doing so when he felt your gentle tugs on his shirt. 

Leon reached behind him and pulled off the tight fabric from his chest, tossing it aside to join your damp panties. 

You bite your lip and sit up, pulling off your own shirt and throwing it to the side as well. The sound of pages crumpling fills the room as you move to copy his knelt stance, your body much smaller than his and making you have to tilt your head to be able to look up at him. 

Leon reaches down and grazes your cheek with his knuckles. “What do you want, baby?”

You hum, kissing his wrist before moving up to kiss his lips. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as he deepens the kiss, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair as his tongue explore your strawberry tasting mouth. “I wanna make you feel good, daddy,” you murmur when you pull away. 

Placing open mouthed kisses down his chest, you pause at the waistband of his jeans. You glance up at him as your fingers make work of unzipping them after pulling his belt off. 

“Let me go down on you, daddy,” you offered, pushing down his black boxer briefs and freeing him. “Let me suck you off.”

Leon groaned and tightened his grip on your hair. “You don’t have to ask, princess,” he reminded you. “You know I won’t ever pass up one of your blowjobs.” 

You grinned, gripping him tightly. “I know,” you say before wrapping your lips around him. Starting off with his tip, you run your tongue along his head before slowly taking more of him. You hollow your cheeks and take him until your nose is pressed to his pelvis bone and he is hitting the back of your throat. 

You move so you’re lying flat on your front, your hips pressed to the floor and your juices still dripping onto your homework pages. 

Leon groaned loudly, gathering your hair into a ponytail as you began to suck him off. “God, baby, you’re going to need to ask for a new page for your homework assignment,” he announced. “You’re soaking the one you have now.”

You moan around him, your eyes nearly rolling back when you feel your clit throb at his words. You clench helplessly around nothing at all, your walls pulsating with every sound that leaves his sinful lips. 

“It’s all for you,” you tell him, stroking his wet shaft with your hand as you lean forward to kiss along his abs. His body was insane and you were sure you could spend the rest of your life exploring it and never get bored of the way it felt against your hands. 

He worked out so often, his body had no choice but to tighten up in all the right places. “I know it is, sweet girl,” he mumbled. “All mine, aren’t you? Mine to take whenever I want.”

You moan embarrassingly loud at his possessive words, feeling more wetness drip from your folds. “I’m so wet, daddy,” you gasp, licking his tip once more. “I missed you so much.”

“I know, baby,” he cooed, tugging on your lip with the thumb of his freehand. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I missed you, too. You need me to fuck you now, sweet girl?”

You hum, pulling off him again and stroking him with both hands. “I need it so badly,” 

Leon hummed in agreement. “Lay back, princess,” he instructed quietly. You oblige right away, sitting up only to lay on your back a few seconds later. 

“Are you going to breed me, daddy? Get me all knocked up?” You tease, knowing how badly he wanted to see you round with his baby. Being with you had unlocked so many kinks, Leon hadn’t even heard of some of them, but he knew he definitely had them. 

Leon cursed under his breath as he pulled his jeans off completely and threw them to the side. “I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promised, staying in his knelt position and grabbing your thighs. He spread your legs and exposed your awaiting core, all ready and his for the taking. “Show all those college boys how badly you wanted me to knock you up.” 

You moan loudly, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can watch him coat his salvia covered dick in your wetness before easily sliding in you. Your head falls back and your chest pushes up, your nipples hard and straining against the cool air in the room. “Fuck,”

“That’s my girl,” he grunted once he was fully buried in you. “So fucking tight.” 

“Daddy,” you whine, watching as he began to slowly fuck into you. “You stretch me so good.”

Leon grunted in reply. “You were made for me, princess,” he says, draping your thighs over his again and rocking his hips into yours. “Mine from the very beginning.”

“Fuck, Leon,” you moan, the slick sound of your walls taking every inch of him filling the room. “I need you, daddy. Please.”

“How do you need it, baby?” He asked, running his hands up and down your thighs. 

“Hard,” you answer, and that was all he needed. He gripped your waist tightly and began fucking into you fast and steady, making your whole body jolt and shake with each thrust. “Oh, fuck. Fuck.” 

Your head falls back and you lay down again, reaching down to grab onto his wrists. “Like this?” He mocked under his breath, eyeing the way your tits bounced with every move he made. 

“Yes,” you moan. “Fuck yes, daddy, just like that.” 

“Good girl,” he praised, adoring how responsive you always are to him. “I’ll fuck you nice and hard, like you deserve.”

You whimper and he reaches one hand up to fondle one of your breasts, his thumb and index finger pinching your already hard nipple. Your whole body shakes a bit as he uses his other thumb to rub harsh circles onto your clit. 

It was probably too much too fast, but he knew you could take it. 

You were his sweet, cock-hungry girl, of course you could take it. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you lay back and push away various papers, not caring about their well-being at all as you shove them away from you. 

You should have more self control. You should be studying right now and watching your dumb reality TV show, but here you are instead, splayed out and taking him so well like you always did. 

You couldn’t help it. Leon was so effortlessly attractive and he got you going without even trying. 

You missed this physical contact with him for weeks, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get off with him. 

“Feel good, baby?” He asked, drilling into you without showing any signs of stopping. “Feel full?”

“Yes,” you respond not even a second later.  “Feels so good, Leon.”

He grunted, removing his hand from your chest and sliding it upwards until his fingers were gently pressing against the base of your throat. 

At the slight blocking of your airway, your eyes light up and you grin at him. “Yes,” you moan again, wrapping your nimble fingers around his wrist. 

Leon stared down at the sight below him, his lips parting a bit as he groaned loudly. “My dirty girl, huh? Letting me do whatever I want to you. Letting me fuck you raw,” he mutters, more so to himself. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you want me to knock you up.”

You moan in response, clenching tightly around him. “Leon,”

“Yeah,” he huffed, tightening his fingers around your throat. “You want me to fuck a baby into you, don’t you? Get you all nice and pregnant?”

You both knew that he wanted that, and you did, too, but later down the road. Maybe after you graduate college. 

Leon understood that and is more than supportive of it, so he settled on fantasizing about it instead.

It was just so hard to not imagine a future where you and he start a family of your own. He couldn’t wait. 

“I want it, daddy,” you whimper, feeding into his kink. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“You do make me feel good, sweet girl,” he murmured, gripping your hips in both hands as he fucked into you hard. “You make me feel so good, wrapped around me so tightly, taking me like the good girl you are. You’re so good to me, baby.”

Your eyes roll back as you blindly reach for him. Pulling him down on top of you, your legs wrap around his waist when he moves so he’s hovering over you. 

Raking your nails down his back, you hear him inhale sharply next to your ear. “There you go,” he muttered. “Scratch me up, princess. I want it.”

You oblige and dig your nails a little deeper, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to leave angry red trails indented on his back. “Leon,” you gasp as you clamp down tightly around him. “Please, make me come again. I need it.”

“Come, baby,” he requested. “All over me. I want you to make it so fucking messy.”

He leaned down and gently sunk his teeth into the skin of your shoulder. His tongue soothed the small sting and your body pulsated a bit as you felt your second orgasm rip through you. “Fuck, Leon, fuck fuck,”

Your walls sucked him in impossibly deeper and each thrust of his hips was noisier than the last. The faint squelch was barely heard over your loud cries as you came harder than before, your nails digging into his shoulders. 

“Fuck yeah,” he grunted as he felt your warmth flood around him. “Good girl.”

His words set butterflies loose in your body and you cling onto him with every ounce of energy you have left. “Daddy,” you whispered, your core begging for a break but also begging for him to fill you up. “Come, please…inside me.”

Leon lets out a throaty groan as he fucked into you a few more times before stilling. He comes deep within your soaked walls, painting your core white as he fills you up to the brim. “Fuck, baby,” he rasps, pulling out slightly then slipping back inside you again.

He wanted to make sure his seed reached as deep as it could go in you, even if there was no way you could actually get pregnant right now since you’re on the pill. 

You whine a bit when he pulls out completely, replacing his dick with his fingers as he pushes his come back inside you. “Where it belongs,” he mumbles as he leans down to press a kiss to your abused core. 

You shudder a bit as he moves back up your body and wraps you in his arms. Relaxing against his chest, you let out uneven breaths as you feel his seed run down your folds and seep into your lecture notes. “Thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. “I really did miss you so much, Leon.”

He kisses your forehead and tightens his hold on you a bit. “I missed you, too, sweet girl,” he replied, knowing both you and he would probably wake up tomorrow with rug burn marks on your bodies. “I’m sorry for not being here very much. I promise it’ll only be a couple more weeks and then I’ll be given a break.”

“It’s okay,” you smile, giving him another kiss. “You made up for it tonight.”

-

Kind of don’t like this at all, so be gentle and lie to me if you hate it, too x

[whiteferrar1]

“Brothers Best Friend”

Summary: Your stuck at your childhood home during spring break with your Brother; Suguru and his annoying best friend, Satoru Gojo. Everything goes well up till a single night

Warnings: 19 Yr old reader, Gojo is 21, banter, mentions of blood and fighting, fingering, virgin reader, Gojo being a lil mean :3 pet names, Gojo steals Geto’s car, STEM reader 😛, NOT AVTUALLY PROOF READ, Porn with plot

Staying in your childhood home after long drawn out semester of college classes, shitty side jobs, unpaid internships, you could finally relax.

So you did. You laid back against the pillows on your childhood bed, hanged out with childhood friends who stayed in your hometown for school, stayed up late watching reruns of old shows that ended in the 2000’s. Everything was perfect.

Until a tall man with sunglasses and fluffy white hair walked through the front door with a smug grin on his face.

Satoru Gojo, your brother’s best friend since childhood. He walked through the childhood home like he lived there. Taking off his shoes at the door before walking over to the stocked fridge without sparing a glance at you. It irked you- HE irked you.

You and Gojo never got along, no matter what your brother or parents tried to make you two be at least civil in each other’s presence. It never worked out.

“Suguru I didn’t know you already had a girl over” Gojo said to your brother has he grabbed a bag of chips and a soda that you bought and was saving.

He squints his eyes a bit before he chuckles “Oh your sister, sorry that’s even worse”

“Gojo for the love of god, be quiet.” You mumble as you cross your arms with a huff.

“Ahh don’t be like that Guppy~” He coos with a playful glint in his icy blue eyes.

Another reason you hated Gojo. The god forsaken nicknames that he never let go, even as you two grew older. This one stuck and never went away. It was probably because your parents called you it all the time for your love of fish.

You would cry when your family made fish, sniffling as you would try to put the already dead fish into the sink to bring it back to life. Gojo never failed to tease you for that. Laughing as he kept telling you the fish was dead and never coming back.

He would also try to make you eat fish, shoving the fork of warm salmon to your lips as you cried. “You’re such a cry baby, Guppy!” He’d remark with loud laughter as your brother hit him over the head and yelled at him to stop bullying his younger sister.

“Would you stop calling me that! Seriously” I snap at him. Suguru sighed and shook his head at the oncoming banter.

“But you’re just like a guppy! You got fat cheeks like those goldfish” He teased as he flopped down onto the couch next to him.

“Their called Bubble eye goldfish first off, and it’s their eyes that are big not the cheeks” I retort with a roll of my eyes.

“Nerd.” He said with a fake cough.

Your eye twitched slightly before you eye the drink, your drink in his hand.

“That’s my shit asshole! If you’re gonna take something from my fridge at least have the decency to ask!” I exclaim as I move to try to grab it from his hand.

Your chest pushed almost in his face as you tried to reach out for it. He let out a laugh and lifted his arm fully up to avoid your grabbing.

“If I asked you would’ve said no!” He said with a wide grin on his pale face.

You let out another annoyed huff as you get off the couch. You slap the back of Gojo’s head before you turn on my heel.

“Whatever, I have a party to get ready for so this bullshit, doesn’t matter” You grumble as you walk off and up the stairs.

It couldn’t have been more than 2 hours before the sound of your heels are heard coming down the stairs. Gojo is still on the couch next to your brother as their hands click away playing a video game on the TV.

“I have a little reunion party with some of my friends, so i’m heading out. I should be back by 10” you say mostly to the air, as you grab your handbag from the kitchen.

Gojo’s eyes scanned you up and down. A light blue crop top that hugged your chest just right in Gojo’s opinion. A pair of black jean shorts, and a pair of lifted sneakers. Everything you wore, how you looked, made Gojo’s normally calm face flush.

Gojo wanted to say something, maybe a teasing joke or a horrible pick up line but he was left speechless. You had really grown up. To him before you left for college you were always Suguru’s annoying crybaby little sister. But now… You were Y/N the stunning STEM major that looked so good dressed up in his colors.

You left and the night passed by quickly. Gojo couldn’t shake you from his mind though. When his mind would wonder from the video games of the TV showing playing, it would run back to you. Little snippets of moments from childhood, your witty personality, the little tears that would swell up in your big Bambi eyes when you would see a stray animal or be offered fish.

He’s snapped out by two things. Suguru snoring on the other side of the couch and Suguru’s phone ringing appearing your name. Gojo groaned a bit as I leaned up from the couch and grabbed the phone.

“Hello?” Gojo says through the phone.

“Gojo, it’s me, Y/N uhm where’s my brother? I need to picked up, like…now” You say with a rushed tone, worry lacing your tone.

“He’s dead asleep, what’s wrong I can get you” Gojo responds as he’s already sitting up from the couch and grabbing his car keys.

You sigh softly “The party, went to shit… Me and this girl started arguing and it got heated. She pushed me so I throw a punch. She was on the floor and I thought I won but then a knife was pulled out, cops are coming and I’m sitting on the front porch waiting” You explain.

“I’m already driving, I have your location, I’ll hear there in a minute” Gojo responds before he hangs up.

The man speeds through the streets, trying to get to you as soon as he could. He pulls up in front of the house and sees you sitting on the stairs up to the porch, a cigarette in between your fingers. He speed walks over to you, looking at your bruised face and crust of dried blood under your nose.

“Are you okay? Did you need to go to the hospital? Can you walk” He worriedly asks as He pulls you up onto your feet.

“I’m okay Gojo, really. It’s just a bruised eye and some cuts” You try to explain say as he holds you while you walk to the car. He keeps you tightly in his arms as he gets you into the front seat.

“I was worried when you mentioned the knife, thought you’ve been stabbed” He mutters has his hands keep close on the stirring wheel. He drives fast to get home, speeding through red lights as you looked at him with a worried expression.

“Why are you going so fast! You’re gonna get a speeding ticket and a ticket for running through like 2 red lights” You scold him as he just rolls his eyes.

“Your hurt, I need to get you back to the house so we can figure out if you need stitches or if you have a concussion. Plus; this is Suguru’s car” He explains as he moves his right hand to pats your thigh then keeps his palm on the skin.

It’s no use in fighting him so you nod. you barely noticed you got home. Gojo swiftly helps you out of the car and rushes you into the house. He sees Suguru is still sleep so he softly places his phone back down where is was before he takes up to the upstairs bathroom.

Gojo pulls out a med-kit and a portable ice pack. He pops the pack open and hands it to you to place on your eye. You tell him a soft thank you. He walks up and examines your face. His thumb rubbing your cheek as he uses his phone flashlight to check your pupils. They seem fine before he disinfects your cuts and puts little bandaid on them gently.

“Thank you Satoru…How can I repair you for helping me out” I whisper to him as he looks down at you.

“How. about…A kiss?” He teasingly says with a smile.

“Your for real?” You ask with a flush reddening your face.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you” He whispers.

You smile softly before you pull his down and press your lips against his. You put the ice pack down as his hands go to your waist.

The kiss has passion of years of tension and want flowing into the touch. His lips soft as he puts you on the bathroom counter. He hands clawing your clothes with need.

“I-Fuck- I need you sweetheart” He whispers to you, hands slowly pulling at your shorts. He unzips the jeans and pulls them down.

His lips stay connected to yours, his finger tips brushing against your clothed cunt. His thumb swiping circles along your throbbing clit. Your breath hitches into the kiss, your back hitting against the mirror.

“Fuck-Satoru wait” You gasp as you hold his wrist in place “I’m a virgin, like never had anything done.” You tell him.

“I’m fine with that, if your are. I’ll be gentle and take it at your pace” He says. You nod and let go of his wrist and lets him use a finger to slide off your panties.

“Such a pretty pussy” He groans as his cold hands rub up and down your folds. “Can’t believe I didn’t get to look at her sooner” He whispers.

His thumb rubs against your clit again, pressing slightly down as you gasp out. “Fuck! Satoru” You whine.

Your foreheads lean against each other he shushes you softly “Gotta stay quiet baby, don’t need your brother hearing us” He warns.

“Already so wipe from just a lil’ teasing, you really haven’t been touched” He mumbles as he puts his middle finger inside your hole.

Your moans grow loud making you clasp a hand over your mouth. He speeds up his pace a bit, before he puts his ring finger inside. His fingers curl at the gummy spot in your cunt as you loudly whine against your palm.

“Fuck baby, clamping down on me, can’t imagine how my dick is gonna fit into this pretty cunt” He groans.

You take your hand off your mouth . Your hands grab his shoulders, his fingers fucking into you at a pace that made you almost tear up.

“Sososo good! Fuck- Please don’t stop please Satoru please” You moan while trying to keep your voice down “I need to cum, I’m gonna cum soon Toru’” You tell him as your head throws back against the mirror.

The white hair man grins wildly, hunger and lust flaming in his blue eyes. His fingers keep a fast pace, curling and rubbing up against that sweet spot.

“Satoru I’m gonna cum!” You warn you with loud whines escaping your throat.

“Let go baby, cum around me fingers sweet girl” He tells you.

The two fingers hit the perfect spot before your seeing stars. Loud moans unable to be held back. Your cunt clamps down onto his fingers. Your thighs shake fast as he slows down the pace slightly and lets you ride out your orgasam.

Sweat drips down your forehead with sighs leaving your mouth. Satoru kisses your cheek softly as his hands leave your sensitive pussy.

“Such a good girl…” He tells you “Let’s go take a bath”

.

.

.

The next morning while you and Satoru sit on the couch eating food Suguru slams the front door open “Why the fuck do I have 3 speeding tickets?!”

[smoshyourheadin]

hey b, so i had a thought could you do a popular!manwhore! fred x princess treatment!fem reader

i don’t mind where you go with it, smut, angst fluff whatever you like

i just have this in my head right now,

“yknow fred,” leaning in closer so the red head could see you peer through your lashes, “i think you’re hot, in fact i think you’re very sexy.”

you took a second before he could say whatever snide comment usually on his tongue, and you shrugged, “i just don’t want to get chlamydia.”

“and look” you continued, “i know you’ve never been serious in all of your… weasley little life but i’m just the kind of girl you take seriously.” with that you started to walk away. “good luck tho, you’ll find someone to suck your dick!”

why me, why now?

pairing: fred weasley x f! reader

a/n: OH THIS ATE DOWNNNNN i had sm fun writing this!! requests open <3

fred weasley was notorious at hogwarts, known for his pranks and, more obviously, being a weasley. but also for his effortless charm with the ladies. his reputation as a heartbreaker was well-earned, yet it didn't deter the flocks of girls who giggled and blushed in his presence. he thrived on the attention, relishing the freedom of fleeting flings and casual encounters. but there was one girl who was different, someone who didn’t just blend into the sea of admirers.

you were the epitome of elegance, always carrying yourself with a regal air that commanded respect. your beauty was undeniable, but it was your confidence and poise that set you apart. fred had tried to catch your eye many times, but you always seemed to look right through him, as if you were untouchable. it only made him more determined.

one evening, during a particularly lively gryffindor common room gathering, fred spotted you sitting alone, reading a book. it was the perfect opportunity. he sauntered over, a smirk playing on his lips.

“evening, princess,” he greeted, leaning casually against the arm of your chair.

you looked up, arching an eyebrow. “fred weasley,” you acknowledged, closing your book and giving him your full attention. “to what do i owe the pleasure?” you said with a sarcastic grin.

“i couldn’t help but notice you over here all by yourself. thought you might like some company,” he said smoothly.

you gave a small, knowing smile. “company, is it? and what makes you think I’m interested in your kind of company?”

fred leaned in closer, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “oh, i think you might enjoy it more than you’d care to admit.”

you let out a soft laugh, leaning in so your faces were mere inches apart. “y’know, fred,” you began, your voice low and sultry. “i think you’re hot, in fact, i think you’re very sexy.”

fred’s smirk widened, but before he could respond, you continued, “i just… don’t want to get chlamydia.”

his eyes widened in surprise, and you seized the moment. “and look,” you went on, “i know you’ve never been serious in all of your… weasley little life, but i’m just the kind of girl you take seriously.”

with that, you stood up, brushing past him. “good luck though, you’ll find someone to suck your dick!” you called over your shoulder as you walked away, leaving him standing there, stunned and speechless.

the common room was abuzz with whispers and snickers, all eyes on him as he stood there, his usual confident attitude momentarily shattered. for the first time, he felt a pang of something unfamiliar - a desire to prove himself worthy, to be taken seriously by you.

over the next few weeks, fred found himself seeking you out, but not with his usual playful banter. he was sincere, genuinely interested in getting to know you. he would sit with you in the library, offering to help with your studies, and he’d walk with you to classes, always respectful and considerate.

one afternoon, as you sat by the black lake, fred approached you, his expression earnest. “can i join you?”

you nodded, gesturing to the spot beside you. he sat down, silence stretching between you. finally, he spoke, “i know i haven’t exactly had the best reputation, but i want you to know i’m serious about this. about you.”

you turned to look at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “why me, fred? why now?”

he took a deep breath. “because you’re different. you’re not like anyone else. and i don’t just want a fling with you. i want something real.”

your heart softened at his words, seeing a side of fred weasley that few ever did. “i’ll give you a chance, fred. but you have to earn it.”

he nodded, a determined look on his face. “i will. i promise.”

as the days turned into weeks, fred proved himself, showing you a depth of character that belied his carefree exterior. he treated you like a princess, not just with gifts and grand gestures, but with his unwavering attention and respect. slowly but surely, you found yourself falling for the red-haired prankster who had turned out to be so much more.

in the end, fred proved to himself and to you that he could be serious, and in doing so, he won your heart.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back || D. Targaryen x oc (Dear Motherhood Series)

GIF by me :) pls give cred if used DIVIDERS by @straywords

summary: After Aegon experienced a near death experience under the lack of supervision of Daemon, a heated convo between Leyla and him soon follows.

Dear Motherhood Series Masterlist

“Stop that Baelon,” Daemon warned the young boy but still, he continues to bang his toy against the wall, creating a loud noise. Daemon was in Leyla’s solar, all three kids there with him and 2 handmaidens with the children.

The banging noise still continued as Daemon became more agitated. “I said stop it Baelon!” He yelled, slamming his hand on the table making all the kids flinch and stare at their father with wide eyes. The handmaidens too were surprised at Daemon’s loudness, especially because he rarely ever yelled at the children.

“Listen to what I tell you the first time,” He snaps as Baelon looks down, Alyssa sitting beside him rubs his shoulder in comfort. Daemon sighs, rubbing his forehead. He didn’t mean to yell at his son. His head was swarming with thoughts. Thoughts about how it was his fault that Aegon was so close to being seriously injured, or worst dead.

Leyla wasn’t feeling well in the morning so Daemon too responsibility of looking after the children during breakfast. It wasn’t hard to do and yet he still managed to fuck it up by not paying attention to Aegon who crawled his way to the descending stairs. Thank the gods Alicent was walking past and saw the young boy one step away from falling.

A knock comes from the double doors, “Come in,” Daemon calls out. It was one of Leyla’s handmaidens. “Lady Leyla wishes to see you, my Prince,” She bows before leaving. Daemon stared at the empty space where the handmaiden once stood.

He lets out a breath before standing up and walking over to where Alyssa, Baelon and Aegon sat playing with their toys. “Behave please,” He says before kissing each of their foreheads and ruffling Baelon’s hair.

Daemon knew that Leyla was beyond mad. He didn’t blame her, after all, it was his fault for not paying attention and letting Aegon come to a near death experience. Walking the familiar route to the nursery, he walked into the room without knocking.

He shut the door behind him before looking at Leyla. Their newborn, Alys, in her arms, crying. He watched as she rocked her to soothe her down. Her back facing Daemon.

“What were you thinking?” She spat, her face red. Daemon couldn’t find it in himself to say anything, so instead, he only kept his gaze to the floor. Angered at the lack of response, Leyla brings her hand up and slaps Daemon’s face, her hand tingling.

Daemon rolls his tongue against his cheek before meeting eyes with his wife. “It was a simple mistake-“ “A simple mistake?” She scoffed, “The handmaidens should have been keeping an eye on him as-“ “Do not blame the handmaidens for your mistake Daemon. I trusted you with looking after the children! How can I do that know when Aegon nearly fell down the stairs and could have died. All because of what? Rhaenyra was it?” She fumed, Leyla’s eyesight were blurred by the tears that formed in her eyes.

It pained her that her son was near close to death, thank god Alicent quickly took Aegon before he took another step. It pained her even more that Daemon was there and did not pay attention to their child.

She was told by her handmaidens that Rhaenyra had arrived, he carelessly went to greet her whilst leaving Aegon one step away from the steps that descended. “Thank the Gods that my sister was walking past,” She muttered, shaking her head.

“I would never forgive myself if something happened to Aegon, or to any of our children for that matter” Daemon quietly spoke as Leyla looked at him. “Neither would I, Husband,” She said through gritted teeth as Daemon looked at Leyla. “If you didn’t go and greet Rhaenyra, none of this would have happened in the first place!” She shouted, frustrated at her husband.

“Like I said, it was a mistake Leyla!” Daemon groaned, pulling at his hair as he starts to pace around the nursery. “A mistake that could have cost us our child!” She fired back, this time, hot tears had managed to cascade down her rosy cheeks. “I know, I know, hey- listen to me Leyla,” Daemon takes ahold of Leyla’s face.

“I am so fucking sorry. And I love you, so so much, and our beautiful children,” He softly says, his forehead against hers as he looks down at Alys before making eye contact with Leyla. “You can’t just push your children aside when Rhaenyra appears, Daemon.” He moves away from him and to the crib to lay Alys down.

“I know you haven’t seen her in some time, but do not forget your children whenever she’s there,” She bites her lips softly, looking down at Alys who’s looking right up at her. “I know that and I am so sorry,” He engulfs her in a hug from behind, his arms protectively wrapping themselves around her small figure.

Leyla lets out a sigh before caving in and leaning her head against Daemon’s chest.

~

taglist

@writtingforfun @bellstwd @sesamepancakes @bunbunbl0gs @ajthefujoshi @mxtokko @xcinnamonmalfoyx

[klonnieshippersclub]

Sweet as Honey

So excited for Klonnie Weekend! Here's a little something "sweet" (as the title suggests). This is set during season 3 at the Mikaelson Ball and features Klonnie's first kiss.

"You look delectable," Klaus practically purred, leaning close to her. He was internally giddy; Bonnie had agreed to accompany him to the dance floor, even though she didn't seem happy. He knew from the start that she couldn’t reject him without causing a scene, and they were both fully aware she didn’t want that.

With a heated glare, Bonnie pleaded, "Klaus, please."

"I'm only speaking the truth," he said as he tightened his hold on her body against him. "And I thought you preferred 'Nik.'"

"How can you be so bold with people listening?"

"There's enough commotion that no one can hear us."

"You know better than anyone that vampires' hearing ability is exceptionally, strong," Bonnie exclaimed with a tilt of her head. He knew what he was doing, so why pretend otherwise? She wondered what his angle was.

"You're right," he answered with a smirk. "I just don't care about being overheard."

Bonnie and Klaus had grown close in a short period of time. Their bond was more emotional than physical, and it was established under the guise of a truce between the Mikaelsons and Bonnie's friends. Following a recent heartbreak from dealing with her cheating ex, Bonnie found herself feeling isolated. When approached by the Original Hybrid with an offer she couldn't refuse, she found herself becoming infatuated with the most evil person she knew.

She accepted his invitation to have access to his library of grimoires but only when he was present. He didn't ask for anything in return initially. When she arrived at the Mikaelson Mansion to study the spell books, he finally asked her for the payment he had in mind. He didn't want or need money, but he requested to taste her blood.

As they waltzed, Bonnie’s core tightened at the memory. She could recall her arousal upon him drinking from her neck and the kisses he planted upon her skin but never her mouth. Klaus guided her through spells with winks and playful teasing in his library. She knew he was attracted to her but couldn't take his affection seriously considering the dress he gifted her best friend.

As she was brought back to reality, Bonnie remarked, "You don't have to lie to me."

"I have no reason to deceive you," he replied.

"You have the perfect motivation: to drive a wedge between me and my friends."

"Have you considered that I am tired of keeping our relationship secret?" he questioned with a raised brow.

"What relationship?"

"'Relationship' isn't the most accurate word. Does 'mutual romantic interest' suffice?"

"I thought you liked secrets. You're the one who's been flirting with me behind closed doors and pursuing my friend in front of the world," Bonnie said, hating the feeling of seeing Klaus entertain Caroline. He always told her it was only meant to irritate Tyler, but it hurt. After the situation with her unfaithful ex, she vowed to never feel like that again.

"You know that means nothing to me," said Klaus, as his hands wandered lower towards her rear. He'd show that little witch who he truly wanted.

"I know you like to play games, and I refuse to be one of them."

"Oh, I get it. You're jealous."

Bonnie gasped at his delusional accusation. "I am not jealous, and that is absurd to suggest," she responded before she pulled away to leave him.

Of course, Klaus would never make things easy for her, so he followed. "It's absurd that you can deny that I only want you."

The Original grabbed the witch’s hand, and she was suddenly in his embrace again. However, she was unamused by his shenanigans.

"Your actions say differently," said Bonnie, with irritation painting her face.

"You want me to claim you? Fine." Klaus swooped down to capture her mouth in a heated kiss. All he could think of was the taste. Her blood was like wine, and her lips were honey. "You're mine."