#so that’s also making me unbelievably nervous

[bteezxyewriter12]

Corruption/ 1

Pairing- Seonghwa x Named Reader

Word count- 5.1k

Includes- Nerdy virgin Hwa, blow job, deepthroating, pussy eating, cum eating, cock riding, corruption, multiple orgasms

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@yeosxxx @seokwoosmole @jjongsbebe @wisejudgedragonhairdo @meowmeowminnie @woo-stars @borntowalkaway @usagionthered @san-realblkwife @seonghwasstar @jejeyeppeo @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @prayerofthehaim @realisticnotes @insomniacatiny @stephy-nicole13 @mknae-jongho @bykeynote @amyz78 @blueie-things @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @armystayluv23 @soso59love-blog @annalynsworld

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Corruption Masterlist

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Gif Credit- There's a symbol or something in the corner of the gif that I can't make out. If someone knows the creator let me know and I'll link them

J POV

"Yes, oh fuck yes", the woman on the screen yells

Seonghwa sits with his eyes wide behind his glasses and his mouth dropped while I smirk at him

"Is she-"

"Coming in his mouth? Yeah", I answer

I had no idea that Seonghwa was home when I decided to watch some porn and get off

Luckily I just turned it on and hadn't started undressing when he walked in asking about the moaning

His eyes hit the TV and he looked so surprised and immediately blushed

I made a joke about him never seeing porn before to cover up my embarrassment and he admitted that he's never watch any

Needless to say my jaw fell to the floor

I mean it's not unbelievable

Seonghwa is totally clueless about sex

I figured that out when his mom dated then married my dad four years ago

We were both 21 and thrown together, suddenly step siblings

Although he's never felt like a step brother

More like a shy, nerdy, clueless friend

He even offered to move out of our parents home and into this apartment with me so I'm not solely responsible for bills and rent

Don't get me wrong he's really nice and sweet but he's sheltered, socially awkward and completely dumb about sex

Which is surprising because he's totally hot

Beautiful

But he so doesn't know it

Anyway, I invited him to watch with me and to my shock he sat on my bed, his eyes glued to the screen

"In...his mouth?", he gapes

I nod, "Yeah"

"What uh...what does he do with it?"

I raise my eyebrow, "Swallows it"

"Oh", he says, his cheeks reddening

"Do you wanna stop watching?"

He shakes his head, "I'm ok"

I shrug

Fine by me

The couple on the porn move, her now giving him a blow job

As the scene progresses, Seonghwa pushes up his glasses, his hand shaking slightly

I watch him as the video goes on, liking how nervous he is

Also liking how awed he is at seeing two people have sex

I know his mom is nuts about sex, keeping him in the dark about it, telling him it's bad and to only do it if you want to have kids

I know, she tried the same shit with me when our parents married asking if I was a virgin, shaming me for not being one while proudly stating that Seonghwa is

I honestly have no idea if he is or not but I basically told her to shove it

Yeah, she doesn't like me much

She also is so mad that Seonghwa chose to move out of the house and blames me

Like I'm gonna force him to join a sex cult and have massive amounts of orgies or something

I have no clue how my dad handles her but love makes you deal with stupid things

The guys in the video groans as he cums inside the woman, then he pulls out and the camera does a close up of her pussy dripping his cum

As per usual

When the video ends, I go back to the home site then look over at Seonghwa

He's swallowing hard, his hands over the tent in his pants, trying to push it down

I wonder if he even jerks off

Nevertheless this is the perfect time to lightly tease him and find out about his virgin status

"So have you watched porn before at all?"

His whole face turns red as he answers, "Nnn..not on my own. Once when my friends made me"

Probably Hongjoong and Wooyoung

They're horny little shits, always hitting on me when they're over

I've considered fucking them but I don't want to make things weird for Seonghwa

He was nice enough to move in with me, I don't want him to feel like he can't has his friends over because his horny stepsister will try to fuck them

"Oh. Did you like this one?"

"I uh...well...I...", he stammers, "Yeah"

I nod

For me it was fine

Standard porn

I was just gonna get off quickly then nap so I didn't need anything too kinky

I decided to tease him further

"What part did you like the most?"

He keeps his eyes firmly on my blanket when he says, "I uh...when he.... licked her"

I smirk, "So when he ate her cunt"

I saw him lick his lips a few times while that was happening

His eyebrows shoot up, "Is that what it's called?"

"Yeah. Eating pussy or going down on someone. Or oral. You can call it whichever"

"Oh...I didn't know that", he murmurs, his sheltered life showing, "They...never told me what it was called"

I'm guessing he means his friends

"Have you ever-", I start, curious, but stop when he shakes his head

"I've never...done anything. Not even kissed anyone yet"

I'm fucking shocked

He hasn't even kissed yet?

He's a virgin virgin

Jesus

"You never liked anyone enough to kiss them?"

He shakes his head, "It's not that. It's just I was so worried about it, worried I'd mess up. I'm not really good with girls. And now it's pathetic to tell any girl that a 25 year old man has never kissed anyone and doesn't know how"

Ok now I feel sorry for him

He has to be so in his head about it and now he's scared

"Hwa don't worry about that. The right girl...she won't care that you don't know how to kiss. The right girl will teach you. Just remember that ok?"

He nods, still avoiding eye contact

This conversation took a serious turn and I need to steer it back to a light mood

"So what about the blow job part?"

"What uh...what about it?"

"Did you like seeing that? The girl sucking his dick, choking on it?"

"I uh..yes...the...the sounds...we're uh...nice...when she...choked"

And I see the perfect opportunity to corrupt my dorky step brother

Not gonna lie, I always wanted him

Wanted to fuck him senseless

And this is perfect

Of course if he doesn't want to do anything I won't force him

I'm not like his mom thinks

But I can offer

"Do you...wanna try that?", I ask

His eyes snap to mine, shock in them along with desire, "Try what?"

"A blow job"

"A..a...bbb...blow.."

"Job", I finish for him, "I just...I noticed you're hard and it can't be comfortable. I can take care of it for you"

"You...you can?"

I nod, "I can suck your dick for you. Make those choking sounds you like. Make you cum in my mouth and swallow all of it"

I see his cock twitch in his pants and I refrain from smirking

"I...uh...I don't...I don't....know...what if ..uh.. someone finds out?"

I think he means his mom

"Hwa, no one will find out. I won't tell anyone. We can keep it a secret", I tell him, "The only way anyone would know is if you say something"

"I..I won't", he answers, his eyes pleading with me and I don't think he knows what he's pleading for

He's not thinking, just horny

"So yes?"

He nods rapidly, "Yes. Ok"

"Ok", I smile encouragingly at him, "Lay back"

He slowly leans back against my headboard, sitting up enough so he could clearly see me suck his cock

I slide my hands up his legs, hooking my fingers in his sweatpants

His breathes get harder and harder as I slide the pants down

He automatically lifts his behind up so I can get them down and I smirk at his eagerness

I pull them off and throw them on the floor

Moving between his legs, I lean down and kiss along his cock through his boxers, feeling it twitch against my lips

Fuck, he feels big

I start pulling his boxers down, eager to be face to face with his cock

I waited a long time for this

Getting them off quickly, I move my gaze to his dick and oh fuck

Huge

Fucking huge

Long and thick, nice curve to it

And so fucking hard, straining and crying cum

I literally don't think I've seen a cock this hard before

"Oh Hwa", I murmur, moving my hand around him, pressing a kiss to his underside, "You're so big Hwa"

"I uh...I am?", he asks, so unsure

"Oh yeah baby", I tell him, then lick up from his base to his head, a soft moan coming from him

A moan that makes me so much wetter than I already am

"Your cock is long", I say, licking up again, "And so fat. You're gonna make me choke so good"

"Oh god", he murmurs, his legs already shaking

He's not lasting long

"But before I suck on you, I need a taste", I smirk, then lick along his slit, his cum on my tongue

I collect as much as I can then swallow it

Fucking good

"Mmm Hwannie. You taste so yummy", I praise him

I glance up at him, pleased to see him fucked out already, his eyes on my mouth by his dick

"Do you like seeing me lick your pretty cock?", is sk, kicking again

He nods, "Yeah"

"Want me to suck?"

He nods

"Words Hwa. Tell me what you want"

"Please Jo, sss...suck my cock"

Gotta admit, hearing him talk like that is such a turn on

He's normally so dorky, I don't think I've ever heard him curse before

So this is so hot

Moving my mouth around his head, I press my tongue to the underside and suck once

"Oh god...oh my....God", he groans and I take that as a cue to suck more

Hollowing out my cheeks, I suck on his pretty head, his slit already leaking so much in my mouth

I know he's not gonna last so I move down his cock more and more with each suck

Normally I'd take my time, go down his length slowly but I don't want him to cum without deepthroating him

He's louder now, letting out sexy moan after moan as I go down his entire shaft, his cock nestled in my throat

I choke around his dick, spit flowing everywhere, tears in my eyes

God, he's big

I slide back down his length to half way, then bob up taking him back in, his cock sliding down into my throat, making me choke again

God, I love this

I bob up and down fast, fucking my throat on his fat cock, watching his fingers twist in my sheets so hard his knuckles are white

"Oh my god, Jo..oh god....feels so good....fuck"

It's the "fuck" that sends chills down my spine, my eyes moving up to him, blinking the tears away

His face is in so much pleasure, biting his lip hard as he watches me go hard on his length

He's so fucking beautiful it's stupid

I take his hand off the sheet and put it in my hair

I'm craving to feel him pull it

He looks at me with a question in his eyes and I nod

His hand tightens immediately in my strands, holding on but not pulling

I tug on his arm, showing him what I want

"Yyy...you want me to pull your hair?"

I nod, slipping up and down his cock

"Ok", he whispers

I take him all in, sucking hard around his entire dick and he cries out in pleasure, his hand tugging hard on my hair involuntarily

I moan around his length, so turned on, so fucking wet, my panties are complete soaked through

"Oh my god. I can't....I..I think....I'm..", he trails off

I move faster, choking over and over, his cock throbbing in my throat

"Oh fuck, Joanne! Fuck", he cries as his hot cum spills down my throat, his entire body shaking from pleasure, the sound of my name in his voice driving me crazy

I bottom him out, sucking desperately, tasting his sweet cum and swallowing greedily

Goddamn, he cums a lot but I make sure I swallow all of it

When he finishes, I pull off him, licking along his slit to make sure I get all of his cum

Moving my eyes up to him, I smirk at the completely fucked out look on his face

I sit next to him, softly running my fingers in his silky black hair

His eyes move to mine as he smiles weakly

"How was it?"

"So fucking good", he murmurs

"Yeah?"

He nods, "Absolutely"

"Good"

I'm glad I could make him feel good

I give him a few minutes to bathe in the post orgasm bliss

He needs it

I have no clue if he ever jerked off and orgasmed before

But at least I know I'm the first one who's given him an orgasm

I like that

I feel his hand on mine, taking me out of my thoughts and I turn to him

He looks at me nervously

"Can I see....uh...", he trails off, his eyes moving down to my crotch

"My pussy?", I ask excitedly

He nods, blushing again, "Uh yeah"

I shrug, "Sure"

Moving off my bed, I drop my shorts and my panties to the floor

His eyes widen as they look directly at my cunt, him sitting up straighter

I smirk, getting on the bed again, facing him this time

"Wanna see more?", I ask

He nods

I lean back and open my legs for him

He gasps, his eyes widening as he looks

His hands moves around my thighs, as he moves closer, a move I'm not sure he knows he made

"Pretty", he murmurs, making me giggle

Taking his hand, I slowly bring it towards me, putting it on my pussy, pressing his fingers against me, moaning softly at finally feeling his touch

His breath hitches, making me smile

"Mm Hwa", I whimper, "Do you feel how wet I am for you?"

His eyes snap to mine, "Fffff...for me?"

I nod, holding his gaze, "All for you"

"I uh ..wow"

"Touch me", I ask

"I..I don't...I don't know how", he says, sounding so sad

"I'll show you", I tell him, putting my hand over his and guiding him

His fingers run up my cunt and I press them into my clit, moving them in a circle

"Mmm Hwa", I moan, "So good"

I move my hand from his, letting him play with my clit for a bit

I have to say, he's a fast learner, playing with me so blissfully

I look up at him, watching him look at my cunt, his tongue licking his lips slowly

And I get an idea

"Wanna taste my pussy?", I ask nonchalantly

"Yes", he answers immediately, his head nodding like a bobble head doll, "Can you show me what to do?"

"Yeah baby", I answer, moving his hand and putting it on my thigh

"Lick here", I tell him, moving my fingers up my cunt

He nods, taking his glasses off and putting them on my nightstand

He leans down, his tongue on me and he immediately licks up quickly, shivers running up my back

"Slower Hwannie"

He nods, "Ok"

His tongue moves again, this time listening and going slow

"Should I uh ..press harder?"

I nod, "Yeah"

He does exactly that, pressing against my cunt, licking right up between my lips then back down, over and over

"Mmmm", I moan, the pleasure so good, "A little faster"

He listens, doing what I ask and I'm amazed that he's such a good listener

"Where..where your fingers were...", I trail off

"Yeah?", he murmurs

"Lick there"

He nods, the tip of his tongue swiping against my clit over and over

"Yes Hwa", I moan louder, the pleasure increasing so much, "Yes baby, just like that. Fuck"

His tongue now flicks my clit back and forth, a new blissful sensation taking over my body

God he's doing such a good job

His tongue moves in different ways, flicking, swiping, using his whole tongue then just the tip to give me amazing pleasure

I look down to find him already looking up at me, as if he's studying which tongue movement is best, which is my favorite

They're all my favorite

His tongue is just...fuck

"Fuck Hwa", I whimper, "God, you're tongue baby. Fuck, it's so fucking good. You're so good"

He whimpers against my pussy, his tongue moving faster and on his own he tugs my clit in his mouth and starts sucking

Softly at first, stars blasting in my eyes as I scream in pleasure

"Seonghwa!", I yell, my hand burying in his hair, holding on tightly, "Yes baby fuck. Don't stop. Please, don't stop"

His hands push my legs open more, his mouth moving, the sight of his jaw moving as he sucks so fucking hot

The pleasure builds as he slurps around my clit and I let the feel of his mouth around me wash over me, ready to fucking snap

"Keep going Hwa. Just like that", I moan, my hips moving on their own, fucking his face, "I'm gonna cum. Fuck, I'm gonna cum in your mouth"

He sucks hard and I'm thrown head first into a massively pleasurable orgasm, screaming his name as I pull his hair hard

"Seonghwa!", I cry, feeling so fucking good, "Seonghwa! Fuck Seonghwa!"

He sucks me through it, my hips snapping against his face, my legs shaking around his head

Once I relax into the bed, his mouth let's go of my clit but his tongue buries in my pussy licking desperately

"Mmm", he moans, swallowing my cum, soft pleasure humming through me

He licks a few more times then sits up, his cheeks so red, avoiding my eyes

"Hwa", I call softly, patting the bed next to me

He shyly moves next to me, laying down and I turn to him, smiling when I notice his dick is hard

Again

Oh yeah, this is great

I put my hand on his chest, running it down his shirt towards his dick

"Oh Hwa. What happened?", I ask, looking at his length

His eyes follow mine and he swallows hard, silent

"Did you get hard from eating my pussy?", I ask softly

He nods shyly as I wrap my hand around his hard length

So hard, skin so soft

"Did you like it that much?", I tease

He nods again, "So much. You...you taste really good"

I smile at him, "Thanks baby. You taste good too remember?"

"I uh...I...uh", he trails off, nodding

I swear I've never seen Seonghwa blush so much

It's adorable

"So what are we going to do about this?", I ask, glancing down at his cock as I start stroking him

"I don't...I uh I don't know"

"Hmmmm....well....I have an idea", I tell him, getting excited

And so wet from the thought of it

"What is it?", he asks curiously

God, I hope he goes for it

"I can fuck you"

His breath hitches, his eyes finally looking up and meeting my gaze

"You...you can?"

I nod, "I can sit on your dick, slip you inside my pussy and bounce on your cock. Like the girl in the video did when she rode the guy"

His eyes are wide as plates as he stares at me but his cock throbs in my hands as soon as the words are out of my mouth

"Would you like that Hwa? Would you like me to ride you?"

He nods rapidly, "Yes...do you...do you want to?"

"Do I want to be on your dick, riding you hard and coming around your cock? Feeling you cum in my pussy?", I whisper, smiling, "Yeah baby, I want that a lot"

He nods

"Words Hwannie"

"I want you to ride my cock"

Thank fucking god

"Ok baby"

Climbing in his lap, I sit on him, my hands on his shirt, "But first, I need you naked"

"I uh...ok", he stammers

"Sit up for me for a second"

He does and I eagerly pull his shirt up and throw it on the floor

Putting my hands on his chest, I gently push him down, my eyes raking down his body

And my god, what a body it is

His chest is muscular, his skin super soft as I touch him

His heart is beating so fast making me smile

He has upper arm muscles too, which is a huge turn on for me

I love guys' arms and Seonghwa's are perfect

As my eyes travel down, my mouth opens slightly seeing his abs

Like hard abs cut into his skin

How the fuck?

"Oh my god Hwa"

"Www...what?"

"You're a total hottie", I compliment

"I uh...what...I...ah... really?"

He's looking at me with such shock in his eyes

I nod, my fingers tracing his abs, "Oh yeah. I'm surprised you're still a virgin with a body like this"

"Uh...is that...doesn't that mean I'm....a .. loser? Because I'm still a virgin and uh "hot?""

I snap my gaze to him, "No Hwa, of course not. Who told you you're a loser for being a virgin?"

"Uh...well...Wooyoung and uh.."

"Hongjoong?", I finish and he nods, "Don't listen to those idiots Hwa. I like that you're a virgin"

Oh god do I

And if he allows it, I get to take it from him

"You do?"

"Oh yeah", I smirk, "Means I get to show you just how good you can feel. It means I get to have you first, make you cum and fill a pussy first. You liked the blow job didn't you?"

"So much", he nods

"You liked eating me out right? I mean you got hard from it"

"I...I liked going down on you more than the blow job", he says, then his eyes widen, "Not that the blow job wasn't amazing because-"

"Shh Hwa", I giggle, "You're allowed to like what you like ok? It's ok if you liked eating cunt more than getting your dick sucked. Most girls just do blow jobs to get oral from the guy"

"Is...is that why you-"

"Nope", I answer, knowing where he's going with this, "I like sucking dick Hwa. A lot. And I like swallowing cum. I don't give blow jobs to get anything back"

I lean over him, my mouth close to his ear, "And your cum is the best I've ever tasted"

"Uh...thanks", he chokes out

I nod, "Sure baby. How about we see if you like sex more than eating cunt?"

"Ok, but uh...can you...uh", he trails off, tugging on my shirt

"Oh yeah, of course", I answer, smiling, "Wanna see my boobs huh?"

"Yyy...yes", he answers truthfully

I nod, pulling my shirt off, his mouth dropping

Reaching behind me, I undo my bra, slide it down my arms then discard it and my shirt to the floor

When I look back at him, his eyes are huge again, his mouth wide open, his hands reaching out for my boobs

He stops just shy of touching me but I'm not having it

Grabbing his wrists, I pull his hands to me and push them on my boobs

"Oh fuck", he moans, my pussy clenching hearing him curse

His hands squeeze my boobs over and over, my nipples hard against his palm

"You're so....pretty", he whispers, his eyes drinking me in

His hands move down, his long fingers touching my body, tracing the tattoos I have when he gets to them

"You're perfect", he murmurs, shocking me, "Perfect"

Fuck, I need him inside me right now

I rise on my knees, aligning his cock to my hole, "Ready Hwannie?"

He nods, his hands moving back to the bed, palms flat against the sheets

I'll have to fix that when I'm sitting on his cock

He definitely needs to touch me

I sit on his fat head, a soft moan already out of his mouth

I push down, sliding him inside me slowly, letting both of us feel everything

His huge cock pushes into me, spreading me open so pleasurably

I clench on his cock over and over as I move down, sucking him in

"Oh god, oh my god", he cries, intense pleasure on his face

"Mm yeah Hwa, feels so good", I murmur, moving my hips in a circle as I go down his shaft, opening my pussy just a little more for him to fit in

"So good", he whines, "Oh shit"

I finally bottom him out, his head right against my spot, his cock so fat that there's no room to spare

A super snug fit that feels incredible

I rock on his dick, making his head rub my spot, sending shivers up spine

"Fuck", he pants as I reach for his hands and put them on my hips

"How does it feel?", I ask him, grinding on his cock, "How does my pussy feel?"

"So good!", he blurts, "It's so....wet. So warm. And tight. Are you supposed to be this tight?"

I smile, "Well, I've been told I'm tight before but your cock is also fucking huge Hwannie. You make me stretch around you and fill me so much"

"Does...does it hurt?"

I smile at his concern while he's practically unraveling underneath me, "No baby, it doesn't hurt. It feels good"

I slide up his dick then back down, his whimper so pretty

"Don't you feel how snug we are baby? How your big cock stuffs my pussy so perfectly?"

"Yes", he yells, "Yes, oh god"

I open my legs wide, leaning back on his legs, starting to bounce on his cock

I let the pleasure of his dick fill me- the drag of his shaft as he leaves my pussy, the full feeling of him sliding back in, the spark of ecstasy when his head hits my spot

I lean my head back, bouncing slowly but taking him in deep, hard

"Oh my god", I moan, in so much pleasure, "Fuck Seonghwa"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck", he chants

"Oh god, you're cock is so good", I whine, moving a bit faster, my pussy pulsing around his throbbing cock, "So hard for me. Feels so good Hwa"

I'm not lying

He fits inside me perfectly, making me spread around him so pleasurably, throwing my whole body into blissful shivers

I've never felt this good from sex before

It's been amazing but this...this is mind blowing

"Oh fuck", he cries, "Your pussy...so much....white...are you supposed to be..."

"Creamy?", I finish, moving my head, looking at him

His eyes are glued to my pussy riding his cock, his tongue poking out at the side of his mouth as he pants, sweat drenching his gorgeous body, his wet hair plastered to his face

He's so fucking ethereal, so fucking beautiful and he has no clue

"My pussy gets like this, so wet, creaming the cock I'm fucking when it feels incredibly good", I tell him, "How much is there?"

"So much", he answers immediately, "Pouring from your pussy. Covering my whole cock. All over my lap"

"Mmm", I smirk, my legs burning as I ride him but fuck it feels too amazing to stop, "I only cream a cock that much after I've fucked them for awhile. I've been riding you for only five minutes and I'm already that creamy. You know what that means?"

He shakes his head, his fingers digging into my hips so hard

"It means I love your cock inside me", I reveal, "It means your cock is the best I've ever fucked"

He murmurs incoherently, his cheeks blushing yet again

God he's so cute too

"Do you like that baby? That your cock is the best I've ever had inside me? That yours feels the best?"

"Yes", he whines, his cock throbbing hard, "I like that. I love it. Fuck"

I lean over him, my hands on his shoulders as I bounce as fast as I can, each hit to my spot bringing me closer and closer

"I'm gonna cum on your cock", I moan, my body shaking on top of him, "Can I cum on your cock Hwa?"

"Yes! Yes please! Yes", he shouts

His pleading and the sound of so much pleasure in his voice helps throw me over the edge, right into a mind shattering orgasm

"Seonghwa!", I cry, ecstasy rolling over me in waves as my pussy strangles his cock over and over, coming all over him

I feel myself cream his cock like I've never creamed one before, stars blasting in my eyes

"Fuck! Joanne!", he cries, "Feels so good! Fuck, oh my god, it feels so good"

"Cum inside my pussy Hwannie", I plead, still orgasming and wanting to feel him fill me so badly, "Fill my pussy with your cum"

"Joanne! Fuck! Jo!", he screams, his hips rising, his hands gripping me so tightly as he keeps me on him

His huge cock throbs, then shoots his warm sticky cum, my pussy greedily milking his cock

I want all of it

He screams wordlessly and I watch the stunning sight of him coming

His head pushes into my pillow, his eyes closed, tears falling down his face, sucking in breaths as he screams and shivers under me

"Hwa", I whimper, the last of the pleasure leaving my body the same time he finishes coming inside me

I stay on him, letting his orgasm end, watching him in pleasure

His eyes flutter open, unfocused, looking so fucked out

He looks so cute

I move my hand and wipe the tears away from his face, his eyes slowly moving to me and focusing

"Hi", I smile softly

"Hi", he smiles back

"Was it good?"

He nods shyly, "Amazing. I never expected it to feel that way. I...I didn't know something could....feel that good"

"I know what you mean", I say, moving off him and sitting next to him, "It hasn't felt that good before"

"Uh...really?", he asks, curiously

My face heats up as I realize what I just said

A virgin gave me the best sex of my life, his cock made me cum the hardest I've ever had

What the fuck?

"Uh yeah", I answer, avoiding his eyes

An awkward silence ensues and I need to leave

"So uh, I'm gonna take a shower", I tell him, standing up and inching towards the door, "I'll save some hot water so you can go in after me ok?"

He nods, shy again, his eyes on the floor, "Yea ok. Thank you"

I nod, "Sure"

I leave my room and basically sprint to the bathroom

I get the water on and get in the shower

But I can't get him out of my head

I can't get the images of how beautiful he looked under me out of my head

Of how hot he looked when he ate me out

Of the pleasure on his face when I blew him

And the feel of him inside me was so fucking incredible

Almost like he was made for me

Stop it

It was mostly likely a one time thing

I did what I wanted

I fucked my dorky but surprisingly hot stepbrother

I corrupted him a little bit, like I wanted to

It's over now

I force myself to stop thinking about him and continue my shower

[crancisfrozier]

I’m going to Europe tomorrow and I’m getting more panicked about it by the second

[tinogiehd]

what artists/authors do you recommend?

these asks make me want to throw up because im scared i'll forget somebody but off the top of my 3am head @fooshogiexd @droleblogger @findinghomes @ourillusions @ourwaterfalls @demonstars @tippysnores @nervouswaltz @mieltxt @sappymix1 @dnfingtons for authors @moonlightgnf @milktea-green @jun-hug @finelinens @flyingwea @kuwuuji @boxinfishfound @mushyruuu-art @kharits for artists

[bugmistake]

so transgender i could cry

[iholdwhatican]

reunions

pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig

read part 2 here!

length: 3.8k

tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; surprise visit from patrick ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension

summary: you want to make your husband's birthday special, so you invite his attractive, charming, estranged childhood best friend in the hopes that they'll make amends. surely nothing will go wrong, right?

author's note: i can't stop thinking about them i am so ill. this is the first of presumably many challengers works. and yes i did make a new blog just for this, don't judge me. this is a drabble that was stuck in my head but I do have more for it should it be wanted! preferably something that leaves you sandwiched in between them :3

originally posted by iholdwhatican

You told yourself this whole thing happened out of the goodness of your heart. You’d just wanted to be a good wife and make your husband��s birthday the best it could possibly be. Because Art Donaldson was the most amazing person you’d ever known, and he loved you, and he deserved the world. There was nothing off limits when it came to him, no line you wouldn’t cross. 

You knew how much Patrick had meant to him, how much he missed his best friend. Your cheeks hurt from how wide the stories made you smile, how happy he sounded when he recounted the things he’d gotten into with the eccentric tennis player. And you knew how sad Art was that they didn’t talk anymore. 

So what better time to remedy that than for his birthday? That was a wonderful surprise, right? Right?

Upon meeting Patrick Zweig, your first thought was how the hell this man got along so well with your Art. Not to say he was a bad person, but he was just so… much. He was cocky, indomitable, the kind of person that knew what he wanted and what he was worth and wouldn’t settle for anything less. He was a force not to be reckoned with, no matter what. He was also unbelievably charming (and not bad on the eyes, which you would never admit), and you hated the way his sweet-talking got under your skin. 

He asked you how Art was. You told him he was fine. Retired, now. Making the most of a quiet life. You’d just celebrated 3 years of married life. He asked to see wedding photos and you didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes at missing the event. You happily obliged. It was the most romantic day of your life, after all. 

And you couldn’t help but internally pat yourself on the back. Patrick missed him too. You could mend the broken bridge between them, and your husband would be thrilled. He’d reward you for your good work. 

You asked Patrick to come to Art’s party. To make contact again. To come back into his world. He only hesitated for a moment, asked if Art knew and was okay with it. 

The lie slipped off your tongue easily. Of course, he’s wanted this for a long time. It’s a surprise, but a most welcome one. You didn’t have details on what happened between them- only knew of a falling out while Art was in college- but it couldn’t be that bad. Anything could be overcome, right? 

Patrick accepted and you hoped the lump in your throat was from excitement and not dread. You thanked him for meeting you, told him you’d forward him the details, and went back to your husband. 

The day of the party came, and you were so nervous you could hardly take it. You’d spent the last couple of days working yourself into a frenzy, convinced that this reunion was a terrible idea and your husband would hate you. You had no right to bring an estranged friend back into his life, on his birthday no less. And without saying a word to him. 

God, what the hell was wrong with you? 

You gripped the edge of the kitchen counter and downed your third glass of water. It did nothing to soothe the dryness in your throat. Or the pounding of your heart. You wondered how fucked you’d be at the party if you took a Xanax right now. Or five. 

Just then, Art peeked his head into the kitchen, donning a sweet smile when he spotted you. He looked as handsome as ever, sporting a well-fitting polo shirt and khakis. His hair was growing out again, starting to show those boyish curls you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. He made his way over to you, wedding band sparkling on his finger, and your heart melted. 

You loved him so much. Had you ruined his birthday with your stupid meddling? Maybe even ruined your marriage? 

“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted, sliding a hand around your waist and kissing your head. It was a familiar gesture, a normal one. He loved touching you, keeping you close. You loved it just as much, “The cake was just delivered. You went way overboard, as usual.” 

You pretended you weren’t overcome with dread and cupped his cheek, “Shut up. There’s no such thing as overboard. You deserve this, okay? You deserve to be celebrated.” 

Please, please don’t be mad at me for inviting him. For bringing him into our world. Please still love me. I did it for you. I’d do anything for you.

His eyes crinkled as he smiled- in that perfect way you adored so much. He leaned down to kiss you again, this time on your lips. It was gentle and caring and everything you were to each other. It made you want to cry. Art was everything. All you wanted was to give him the same. 

The doorbell rang, breaking you two out of the moment, and your husband pulled away. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Well,” He spoke, looking at you like there was nothing else in the world, “That must be our first guest.” 

You hummed happily, “Guess it’s time to celebrate you, Birthday Boy. Shall we?” 

“We shall.” He teased, doing a mock bow as he offered you his hand. You took it, laughing, and the two of you made your way to the front door. 

You took a deep breath and tried not to focus on the unhappy way your stomach was churning. 

The first hour of the party went by with a pleasant lack of reunions-turned-altercations. Patrick had yet to show his face, and you wondered if he might not come at all. Part of you was relieved at the idea, while the other couldn’t help but be frustrated. 

He said he would come. What if the surprise didn’t end up being a bad thing? How would you know if he never showed? 

God, you needed a cigarette. 

You’d spent the entirety of the party so far glued to Art’s side, being his doting wife as you made conversation with everyone. Your eyes continued to stray to the door, looking for a certain dark-haired man. Every single time, you were disappointed. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised. From what you’d heard, Patrick wasn’t really someone who could be counted on a lot. 

Maybe this whole thing was just a big mistake. And maybe the part of you that truly felt let down at not getting to see him again was something you should never, never look into. 

You patted Art’s chest and stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I’m gonna check on the food. I’ll be back.” 

He nodded, smiled, and pressed a kiss to your temple. His arm released its grip on you and he continued his conversation with an old Stanford buddy without missing a beat. He was fucking incredible. At everything. You were crazy about him. 

The food didn’t actually need to be checked on. The caterer was high-quality, and they knew better than to fuck up one of your events for your husband. You had full trust in them- you honestly just needed a breather. This whole night had felt like a cold fist clenched around your heart. 

Instead, you grabbed yourself a large glass of wine and made your way to the patio to enjoy some cool night air. 

The area was blessedly empty, allowing you to slip out of the hostess facade. You were more than happy to do it, especially when celebrating Art, but the circumstances tonight were making it much harder than usual. Which was, of course, entirely your own fault. Way to go, you! Knocked it out of the park tonight, didn’t you? 

You sighed, leaned against the railing, and took a long gulp of your drink. The weather was slightly chilly, and it felt amazing against your heated skin. Already, you were finding it easier to breathe. And think, for that matter. 

“Shouldn’t you be at the party, Mrs. Donaldson?” A familiar, spine-tingling voice spoke, breaking you out of your peaceful moment. 

You whirled around, eyes landing on Patrick fucking Zweig leaning against the wall of your house. A lit cigarette hung from his lips, his hands nonchalantly tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. They went well with the button-up shirt he wore, a stark contrast from the shorts and hoodie he’d had on when you first met. He looked good- really good. Enough to make a pit grow in your stomach. 

“I thought you weren’t coming.” You blurted out, thankful that the darkness was shrouding your red face. His face was just barely illuminated by the orange glow of the cigarette, and you watched as he looked you up and down, “Also, how’d you get back here? I didn’t see you walk into the house.” 

Patrick kicked off the wall and walked over to you, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth. His curls fell over his forehead, and you found yourself fighting the urge to brush them out of the way- the same way you always did to Art. You swallowed deeply. What the hell was wrong with you? 

“I told you I’d come, didn’t I?” He responded matter-of-factly, blowing a puff of smoke into the air. The smell made you nostalgic. You and Art had made a pact years ago to quit together, but God did you miss it sometimes. You licked your lips and tried (and failed) not to stare, “I snuck in through the back. Thought it’d be less messy that way.” 

You had no idea how he’d been able to get back here, but you decided you weren’t gonna ask. It didn’t matter in the long run, anyway. Besides, he was probably right. You had no idea how Art was gonna react, and it was smart to have it happen in an isolated area. 

“Probably smart.” You muttered, taking another swig of the wine. The feeling of his eyes stayed on you, burning into your skin, but you didn’t meet his gaze. You didn’t want to think too hard on why. 

“He doesn’t know you reached out to me.” It wasn’t a question, but you responded to Patrick’s words regardless. He’d find out eventually. 

“No.” The admittance came out with a heavy breath, like you were releasing the weight that had been on you all night. In a way, you were. You ran a hand over your forehead, “I don’t know what happened between you two, he doesn’t talk about it. But I just- I’m terrified he’ll hate me for bringing you.” 

Why the hell were you pouring your heart out to this stranger? What was it about him that drew you in so much and made you want to bring down your walls? How was this charming man already under your skin from one damn meeting? And how the fuck were you supposed to explain any of this to your husband, his estranged best friend? 

You needed another drink. Or ten. 

“You really love him.” Again, not a question. But you answered. You had to. 

“More than anything else in this world.” 

Patrick offered you his half-smoked cigarette and you took it without thinking. The sting of the smoke in your lungs was like coming home. It was so good it almost made you cry. But lots of things made you want to cry right now. You could taste mint on the cigarette, like he’d been chewing gum before lighting up. The same kind Art always chewed. 

It made something flip in your stomach. 

“Well, from what I can tell, you’re pretty great. Super caring, based on how far you went in an attempt to make him happy. Shit, you tracked me down, which is a feat in itself. And you’re gorgeous, obviously. I’m surmising that you’re basically the whole package.” He spoke calmly, as if every one of those words didn’t make your heart jump into your throat. You chugged your drink to use it as an excuse for your rosy cheeks, “So I don’t think there’s any way he could hate you. Even for inviting me here.” 

You were speechless for five long seconds as he took the cigarette back and inhaled. Then you finally got your brain to stop lagging, “You don’t even know me.” 

“I know enough.” He countered, continuing the pass back and forth of the cigarette, “And I know Art. He wouldn’t marry someone beneath him. The fucker somehow always gets the ones way out of his league.” 

You didn’t comment, but you knew what Patrick was referring to. Tashi Duncan. The now pro-tennis player that he’d had a thing with back in the day. You didn’t know the details, but you knew she was a point of contention between the two men. 

Honestly, you tried not to think about Tashi. She was gorgeous, super talented, and an overall seemingly great person. Art had passed up on that for you, and it got to your head a lot. You wondered if he regretted it. Or at least wondered what his life could’ve been like. 

You didn’t think you were out of his league. In fact, you thought the opposite. Not that you needed to tell Patrick that. Your insecurity and jealousy issues could stay yours alone. 

“Well, I don’t know about that.” You murmured.

The cigarette began to dim as you took the last drag, flicking it off the balcony and down into the grass below. With both the alcohol and nicotine gone, you started to think you probably needed to get back to the party. Your husband would be looking for you, and you didn’t want to keep him waiting. You just had to figure out how Patrick would fit into the equation. 

“If you weren’t taken, I’d be trying to charm the fuck out of you right now.” 

The statement caught you completely off guard. You looked over at him, eyes wide, and tried to keep your cool at the sexy smirk on his face. God, he was so fucking attractive. 

You blinked once, twice, a third time, “What?” 

His smile grew at your flustered state, “I have great taste in women, and I’d flirt with you if I could. So I’m saying you’re definitely a catch. And totally out of Art’s league.” 

You licked your lips. Subconsciously, “I’m pretty sure that was flirting.” 

“Was it?” He didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed, “Oops.” 

You ran your finger over the rim of your wine glass, trying to think of something to say. You came up empty. You were married- to this man’s childhood best friend. To the love of your life. He shouldn’t be flirting with you. And you definitely shouldn’t be enjoying it. 

“There you are! I was starting to worry.” Art’s voice broke the tense silence, and you turned around to watch him making his way to you with a smile. Then he spotted Patrick and his smile dropped as his face filled with recognition, “You- what the hell are you doing here?” 

You opened your mouth to speak, to explain and mediate the situation, but the dark-haired man beat you to it. 

“Your pretty little wife invited me.” He said, which was probably the worst thing he probably could’ve chosen. You internally buried your face in your hands. 

Art’s jaw clenched and his eyes lit up. It took you a moment to realize that the expression was anger. Honestly, it took you by surprise. It was extremely rare to see him angry, and never was it directed at you. And though he was looking at Patrick, you were terrified that in this instance it was. 

“Let me explain.” You immediately choked out, clutching your empty wine glass like a lifeline, “I really just thought that-” 

“She thought you missed me and wanted us to reconnect. As a birthday surprise. Isn’t that sweet?” Patrick butted in, throwing an arm over your shoulders. Art looked ready to murder someone (probably the tennis player holding you), “I doubt it was easy contacting me, but she managed. All for you.” 

You laughed nervously, ducking your head, “Well, that’s not-” 

“Let go of her.” Art demanded. His voice was cold and dangerous. Possessive. It made something twitch in your core. Oh, you liked that. 

The brunette didn’t hesitate to do as he was told, holding his hands up in surrender, “My bad, man. I just feel like we’re already such close friends from hanging out together. Don’t you think so?” 

The last part was directed at you, and Patrick nudged you. You gave him an incredulous look. 

The charming, sweet man you’d just been talking to was gone. He was replaced by a cocky, near-disrespectful antagonist who was trying to egg your husband into some kind of altercation. And he was using you as the bait. 

You couldn’t lie that you were frustrated, but it did feel a bit nice to be in an almost tug-of-war between the two men. You liked being an object of affection or desire. 

“You should head inside, baby.” Art spoke to you, though his furious gaze never left Patrick, “Our guests will wonder where the hosts went. I’m gonna talk to Patrick for a minute.” 

You’d be damned if you told him no. Even though this situation felt like a mess that was definitely all your fault. Damn you for inviting Patrick. Damn him for being so captivating. And damn Art for loving you so much that the sight of another man touching you made him see red. This entire thing was like a whirlwind. 

“Okay…” You whispered, moving towards your husband and the house. You gave Patrick a small smile, hoping to convey your thoughts to him. Please don’t hurt him- he’s my world. Then you stopped at Art’s side and placed a hand on his bicep, “I’m sorry if this was a bad idea. I just wanted to make your birthday special, is all. I didn’t mean to fuck it up.” 

He finally looked at you, just long enough to give you a loving smile and a shake of his head, “You didn’t ruin anything. I’m so proud of you for doing all this for me. Don’t worry.” 

Then he kissed you, only to stop and pull away, “Is that- were you smoking with Patrick?” 

You sucked on your teeth and nodded, “Yes, a little. I’m sorry. I just-” 

But then he was kissing you again, hard and needy. Like he wanted to fuck you right then and there. Your face burned bright red, and you could feel Patrick’s eyes on the two of you. Art had never acted like this in all the time you knew him. But right now, within thirty seconds of being around his old friend, he was putting on a show to prove that you were his. 

You belonged to him. And he wanted Patrick to know it. 

You really, really fucking liked this. 

When he pulled away, you felt dizzy. From both the kiss and the wine you’d downed. You barely had time to take a breath before he was lightly patting your cheek and sending you inside. You managed to take a look at the two men before rejoining the party. They just stared at each other, like they were in a standoff. 

It was unbelievably hot. 

As you went back to your guests, lips still tingling, only one thought was coming to you. 

You wondered how long you could keep Patrick around, just to see what it would do to your precious husband. 

[salsakiyoomi]

“so i guess this is our new home now.”

satoru says, looking around the cheap rental place in upstate new york — you may be wondering, how you both ended up in this situation.

the simple answer is : to run away from the jujutsu life.

the complicated answer would be that satoru gojo had grown tired of being the strongest.

he had love and dreams, everything that was there to pursue, and he knew that if he kept going down the same path that he would never end up somewhere he wanted to be.

so he ran away, from everything, leaving his old life and everything that he knew behind.

except for you.

to be fair, it was never his intention for you to tag along, but when it came down to it, you decided that no way you would be leaving him on his own.

and not to mention, you have also grown tired of the jujutsu world.

and that's how you both ended up in states, in a cheap rental place in a cheap town in upstate new york.

“doesn't look too bad.” you say, shrugging as you look around as well, eyes drifting to the chipping paint on the wall and the peeling leather of the old couch, “we can make it work.” 

“yeah.” he hums, going over to the couch and sitting on it, patting the spot next to him for you to sit on.

you go over, settling down next to him, “this is the life.” you exclaim, a smile on your face, one that he mirrors, “yeah.” he hums in agreement.

comfortable silence settles over the both of you as you move even closer to him, snuggling up to his body and bathing in his warmth.

satoru stiffens, he's felt your body against his many times before but with his arising feelings and fat crush on you, it's not the same anymore.

it's been there for so long, it's unbelievable and honestly infuriating, he wants to get rid of it but no, you're just too oblivious to notice his very obvious hints.

( he got you your favourite drink the other day and thought, yep, that must be it, but no, you just sipped on it peacefully, didn't even offer him some. )

“hey uh…could you shoot over a bit?” he mumbles, a bit shy, and you stare at him, confused, and that's when you notice the loud thumping of his heart.

that's unusual, you think. the mighty satoru gojo is nervous? and of what? you laying against him?

“satoru?” you call his name softly, “are you okay?”

“yeah?” he huffs, and then jolts when you lay your hand against his chest where his heart is, a teasing smile on your face, “your heart tells another story.” you say.

he looks away from you — fuck, was he that obvious? wasn't that what he wanted though? for you to notice his feelings towards you?

and that's when he decides, fuck it, he'll just spit it out.

“i tried to ignore it, you know.” he mumbles and you raise a confused brow, “ignore what?”

“my heart whenever you're around me.” he says, “the way you always make me feel, like i'm just more than the strongest, like i'm truly loved — i tried, you know, to look at you as a friend.”

“but it's damn hard, when you're always so sweet to me, too nice and too giving, like you'd move mountains for me — and truth be told, i'd move mountains for you too — and god, whenever you smiled or laughed all i could focus on were your lips, how perfect they looked and i always wondered if my lips would fit against them, and how good you'd taste — would you taste of coffee or of the cherry lip balm that you always have on? i know you'd taste nice either way.”

he takes a deep breath, “and i know friends shouldn't think about kissing one another but god, you're so insatiable, i can't help it, i really can't.” he looks at you, and takes in the deep blush on your face and the way your lips are hung open, “all i can think about is wanting to kiss you, wanting you to be mine, wanting us to be a think.”

he takes your hands in his, “so god help me, i'll pursue you until you give in, until you feel the same for me, until you let me kiss you.”

a moment of silence falls over and satoru thinks that he’d screwed up, but then you mumble, “there is no need for that.”

“what?” he utters out, dumbfounded.

finally, you look up at him, “kiss me, satoru.”

and that's all it takes for him to place his lips against yours and savour your taste, his hands all over your body as he sinks into the moment.

and he let's the cherry lip balm that you always wear smudge on his lips, because it tastes like you.

[mythicalmaven]

(I used a screenshot of the original request in here, because I wans't able to reply to the original request anymore, whoops)

Here it finally is! Please let me know what you thought of it :) Requests are open btw! Feel free to request anything :) I'm considering to do kinktober as well this year, so leave your requests for that as well :)

Supposed To Be Mine - Charles Leclerc (ONESHOT)

Masterlist ↳pairing: charles leclerc x female!reader ↳word count: 4.9K ↳warnings: friends to lovers, jealous!sex, jealousy, (minor) possessiveness, jealous Charles, smut, 18+(MDNI!), handjob (m!receiving), pinv ↳summary: In which Oscar wins the Azerbaijan GP & Charles gets jealous because their mutual friend decides to celebrate with Oscar& not him (or so he thinks). This results in pent up emotions, a heated argument & of course, jealous sex

It was Sunday, September 15th when you found yourself making your way through the paddock. The sun was shining bright and the atmosphere was making you feel ecstatic. You, a familiar face on the grid, had been here to support your friends. While you usually worked as a member of the F1 TV team during Grand Prix, this weekend you were off duty, free to fully enjoy the festivities of the Grand Prix.

Over the years, you'd built strong friendships with most of the grid, but there were three drivers you were particularly close to: Oscar, Charles, and Alex. Each friendship had grown naturally, but in distinct ways.

Alex was the one who felt like a brother from the start. You clicked immediately, sharing the same dry humor, hobbies, and an undeniable love for animals. He was always there for you—whether it was picking you up from the club after too many drinks or cheering you up when your heart got broken again. If there was one word to describe your bond, it was siblings.

Then there was Oscar, your roommate. He ticked all the boxes for the perfect best friend. Your friendship took time to blossom, but once it did, you both quickly realized how well you fit together, purely platonically. The thought of taking it further had never crossed your minds—it just wasn’t like that. After moving to Monaco, you’d struggled to find an apartment, so Oscar offered you a place to stay. A year later, you were still living together because, honestly, it was too much fun to stop.

Then last, but certainly not least, Charles. Your bond with him was something else entirely. The connection between you felt effortless, almost surreal. He was the friend you could call at any hour to talk about anything or nothing. You could spend hours in comfortable silence, never growing bored. But Charles was also the friend that you had secretly been in love with for years. You knew you shouldn't be, your friendship worth way too much to risk it for a stupid crush. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get over him. Every time you dated someone else, it always came back to Charles.

But even if you'd allow yourself to feel the way you did about him, you'd already given up the hope of him ever feeling the same despite your friends insisting otherwise, pointing out how he smiled brighter when he was around you or how his gaze lingered a little longer. You were unable to believe it, the scenario seeming to good to be true.

There were moments—fleeting, breathless moments—when you thought something was there. Moments where your faces hovered inches apart, breaths mingling, hearts pounding. But right before anything could happen, one of you would pull back, retreating before the tension broke, both of you pretending it had never happened.

Charles had been in love with you longer than he cared to admit. Everything about you captivated him—the way your laughter filled a room, the ease with which you could calm him when he was frustrated, the way you just got him without him needing to explain a thing. Around you, he felt at ease and yet so unbelievably nervous. His heart would race whenever you were near, his palms would get sweaty, and he could feel the tension in his chest and stomach. There were so many times he’d wanted to pull you close, to feel your body against his, but something always stopped him.

It was fear. Fear that you would notice how much he felt for you and that it would scare you off. The thought of you realizing the depth of his feelings terrified him, because losing you, even as just a friend, was unthinkable. He tried to keep a distance for that reason, but it was impossible. You had this way of driving him wild without even trying, leaving him helpless in the wake of his emotions.

He’d fantasized about you more often than he dared to admit—so many nights spent alone in his apartment, hand slipping beneath his waistband, your name falling from his lips in breathless whispers. But it wasn’t just the physical desire; it was how much he felt when he was around you. You made him feel alive in a way no one else could.

And then, there was Oscar. The way you two were so close, always together, always laughing, sent a pang of jealousy through him. You said there was nothing romantic between you, but sometimes, Charles couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, you felt something for him. It ate at him, the idea of someone else having what he wanted so desperately. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold back.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺

The roar of engines echoed across the pit lane as the top three finishers of the Azerbaijan Grand Prix parked their cars by their respective signs. Charles finished 2nd, which made you incredibly excited for him, but your excitement today reached an even higher level by the one who finished first. Oscar just won his second Grand Prix in F1 and you were feeling so incredibly proud.

You were standing at the front of the crowd, engulfing Oscar's mom in a crushing hug, sharing your mutual excitement. You looked up at Oscar climbing out of the car, bumping his fist in the air, cheering enthusiastically.

"God, look at him, finally a win he is allowing himself to enjoy!" you chimed to his mom.

You watched as Oscar ran straight into the arms of his engineers, their shared happiness palpable in the air. The joy between them was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile as you took in the scene.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Charles climbing out of his car in the background, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. Post-race Charles always did things to you that you couldn't quite explain. You wanted to wave, but he seemed busy with his team, so you decided to congratulate him on his podium later.

Your attention shifted back to Oscar just as he approached his mum, pulling her into a warm embrace while carefully avoiding bumping her with his helmet.

"I'm so proud of you, darling!" she cooed, squeezing him a little tighter before they eventually pulled apart.

Oscar removed his helmet and reached up to pull off his balaclava, revealing a blissed-out expression. His smile was radiant, a mix of joy and relief, as if the weight of the race had melted away in that victorious moment.

He caught your eye, and his grin widened. "I did it! I actually did it!" he exclaimed, still sounding like he couldn’t quite believe it.

"You did! You really did!" you gushed, your smile matching his as you shared in his happiness.

Without warning, Oscar launched himself at you, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you over the fence you’d been leaning against. He hugged you tightly, spinning you around as both of you laughed, the sound of your shared joy echoing across the pit lane.

The cameras were all pointed in your direction, capturing the moment. To you and Oscar, it was nothing more than two best friends celebrating a hard-fought victory. But to the outside world, the scene looked far more intimate than it felt.

Charles stood at a distance, watching the moment unfold. His chest tightened as he took in the sight of you and Oscar together, laughter and smiles shared so easily between you. You’d told him there was nothing going on with Oscar, that the two of you were just best friends—but looking at you now, Charles couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

It hurt. It hurt to see you in Oscar’s arms, when he wished so desperately that it was him instead. He felt a wave of frustration, jealousy swirling inside him. Oscar was his friend, someone he genuinely liked, but seeing you together like that made it hard to think straight. The fear that Oscar might steal you away—his girl, even though you weren’t even his—gnawed at him.

“She said there was nothing between them,” he muttered under his breath, trying to convince himself.

Pierre appeared beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think it’s not what it looks like, mate," he offered, sensing Charles’ mood.

Charles shook his head, frustration still bubbling beneath the surface. "That’s what they always say when they’re denying it," he replied, his voice low. "I know she’s single, and she can do whatever she wants with whoever she wants, but… it just hurts."

Pierre gave him a sympathetic look, but Charles couldn’t shake the feeling. He wanted to punch something, not because he hated Oscar—he liked Oscar—but because seeing you so close to him made him feel like he was losing you, even though you were never his to begin with.

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Later in the day, as the adrenaline from the race began to wear off, you found yourself searching for Charles. You had spent the afternoon immersed in the celebrations with Oscar and the McLaren team, reveling in their victory. Despite the fun, your thoughts kept drifting back to Charles.

Navigating through the bustling paddock, you scanned the area for any sign of him. You wanted to offer your congratulations and express how proud you were, but Charles seemed to have vanished.

When you stepped into the Ferrari motorhome, you were greeted by Carlos. The Spaniard offered you a small, knowing smile. "Hey," he said as he approached you.

"Hey, have you seen Charles?" you asked, absentmindedly twirling a stray strand of hair.

Carlos's smile turned apologetic. "He already left for the hotel. Said something about not feeling up to it today."

Your heart sank a bit. "Oh, I wanted to congratulate him earlier, but I got caught up with the celebrations."

A flicker of realization crossed Carlos's face. "Ah, that explains why he seemed so on edge when he came back here."

Confusion clouded your expression. "What do you mean?"

Carlos’s eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. "I think Charles got a bit unsettled seeing you so close with Oscar instead of him."

You frowned, trying to make sense of it. "Why would he be annoyed? My best friend won the race. Of course I celebrated with him. It's not like I didn't want to celebrate with Charles, it's just that Oscar is my best friend. And he also deserves the attention when he achieves something amazing like this."

Carlos’s smirk widened slightly. "That’s exactly his problem."

You stood there, grappling with the situation, struggling to find the right words. Carlos seemed to sense your confusion and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Maybe you should talk to him. There might be more going on between you two than you realize."

His words hung in the air, adding a new layer to your thoughts as you considered the possibility of unspoken feelings and misunderstandings.

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"You seemed awfully intimate with Piastri this afternoon, anything unfolding there?" you heard Alex tease on through the phone.

He had called you had texted that you were on the way back to the hotel, something you often did to just gossip and rant about everything that went on.

You rolled your eyes, and huffed "Why does everybody keep saying that. Not even in my wildest dreams, ew" you whined "I know he's good looking, I'm not blind, but the idea of doing something with him revolts me just as much as it revolts him"

The chuckle that Alex let out was audible to you "Well, to be fair, it didn't look like nothing on camera" he started, another chuckle leaving his lips "Have you checked your social media lately? Apparently the camera's catched Charles' reaction to your little moment with Oscar. The video is going quite viral. He is shooting daggers at Oscar, man. The jealousy is literally burning in his eyes"

You sighed "Don't, Alex" you whispered "Don't give me hope"

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You arrived at Charles's hotel room with a mix of anxiety and frustration swirling inside you. His abrupt disappearance after the celebration, coupled with his avoidance of your calls, had left you feeling unsettled and concerned. Your knuckles rapped against the door, the sound echoing in the empty hallway. When Charles finally opened it, his face was a mask of irritation, the tension in his posture unmistakable.

“What’s going on?” you demanded, stepping past him before he could react.

Charles’s eyes were dark with frustration. “Nothing,” he snapped, but the rigidity in his stance and the clenched fists he tried to hide told a different story.

You let out a sigh, frustration bubbling up inside you. “I know you’re lying,” you insisted, moving to sit on the edge of his bed, trying to steady your breathing. “Please, just talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. What did I do?”

Charles stood with his back to you, his breathing shallow and uneven. “Why him?” he finally asked, his voice strained and raw.

Confusion creased your brow. “What are you talking about?”

Charles’s frustration finally erupted. “Why did you celebrate with Oscar and not with me? I finished second. I deserved some attention too.”

You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm despite the rising tension. “Oscar’s my best friend too. This win was a big deal for him. I wanted to be there for him. I tried to find you, but you were already gone.”

Charles’s eyes flashed with hurt and jealousy, a dark storm clouding his gaze. “It feels like you care more about him than me. It fucking hurts to see you so close to him, probably even—”

His words struck a nerve, causing irritation to flare within you. “Oscar and I are just friends, Charles.” You stated, your anger bubbled over. “And so what if it was more? Why does it matter to you? I’m not your property. You dont get to decide who I spend time with. You’re my best friend, not my boyfriend.”

Charles’s face flushed with frustration, his voice rising with each word. “Merde, for fuck’s sake, I don’t want to be your best friend!”

His declaration stunned you, a mix of hurt and anger surging within you, causing tears to well up in your eyes. “Well, if you don’t want to be my best friend, I might as well go back to Oscar then. Since, according to you, that’s where I prefer to be. You apparently know me better than I do!”

Without waiting for a response, you turned to leave, but Charles’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a desperate grip. His eyes burned with an intense emotion, a mixture of longing and possessiveness that was almost palpable. Before you could react, he pulled you close, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was both fierce and consuming.

The kiss was rough, charged with pent-up emotions. Charles’s lips moved against yours with an urgent hunger, a reflection of the depth of his feelings. The heat of his body pressed against yours, every touch and caress infused with an intensity that left you breathless. His hands roamed over your curves, claiming you with each possessive stroke. You could feel the undeniable pressure of his arousal pressing against you, intensifying the moment.

He guided you gently back toward the bed, his touch both tender and commanding. Slowly, he lowered you down onto it, his hands caressing your sides with a reverence that spoke of his deep feelings for you. He leaned over you, his breath warm against your skin. “I don’t want to be your best friend,” he said, his voice heavy with desire. “I want to be your boyfriend.”

You were taken aback by his declaration, the words resonating deeply within you. Before you could respond, Charles’s lips were on yours again, kissing you with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer, as he explored your body with a mix of urgency and tenderness.

You moaned softly, the sound escaping your lips as his touch ignited a fire within you. Charles’s arousal was evident, his body pressing against yours in a way that heightened your senses. “Tell me you think about me at night and not him,” he demanded, his voice husky and filled with longing.

The world around you seemed to dissolve as Charles’s touch and kisses overwhelmed your senses. His hands roamed over your body, exploring, caressing, igniting every nerve with a mix of desperation and adoration. His touch was both possessive and tender, his kisses deep and demanding.

“Tell me,” he urged, his voice a low, heated whisper. “Tell me you scream my name when you come and not his.”

You met his intense gaze, your voice breathless and filled with yearning. “Only you, Charles. It has always been you.”

Charles’s eyes darkened with satisfaction, his expression softening slightly as he continued his intimate exploration. He guided your hands to his jeans, his breathing ragged with desire. “Have you ever thought about him like this?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper. “Touched him like this?”

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of defiance and affection. “It’s only you, Charles,” you replied, your voice sultry. “I never saw Oscar that way.”

Charles’s frustration and desire mingled as he felt your touch, his body tensing and his control slipping. He moaned softly, a deep, guttural sound that reflected his overwhelmed state. His hands gripped the edge of the bed for support as you palmed him through his jeans, your touch eliciting a series of desperate groans from him.

Unable to hold back any longer, you undid the button of his jeans and slid your hand inside, taking him in your grasp. Charles gasped, his breathing coming in short, erratic bursts. “F-Fuck,” he whimpered, his voice strained. “That feels so good.” His body tensed and trembled, overwhelmed by the sensation of your touch. “J-Just like that,” he gasped, his voice a desperate, needy growl. “Show me you’re mine. I want you to think about me every time you touch yourself. I hope that after tonight, you can never touch another man without thinking about me.”

You looked at him, your eyes filled with passion. “It’s already been like that for years,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desire.

Charles’s gaze softened for a moment, but his need took over. He flipped you back onto the bed with a sudden, urgent intensity. His movements were driven by a deep-seated desire, his lips finding yours again, kissing you with a feverish passion that made your heart race.

As he undressed you, his touch was both deliberate and passionate. He removed the last bits of his clothing with a mix of urgency and tenderness, his hands lingering on your skin, savoring the feel of you beneath him. He paused, looking into your eyes with a mixture of tenderness and desire. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked, his voice a low, heated whisper. “Tell me, do you want this as much as I do?”

You nodded, your voice breathless with anticipation. “Yes, Charles. I want you. I want all of you.”

Charles’s eyes darkened with satisfaction as he positioned himself above you. His hands continued their intimate exploration, his kisses trailing down your neck and shoulders with a mix of urgency and tenderness. Each touch was a declaration of his intense feelings, a blend of passion and possession that left you craving more.

As the intensity of the moment built, Charles’s control wavered. He pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with a mixture of need and desire. “Tell me you’re mine,” he urged, his voice a rough whisper. “I want to hear you say it, mon amour”

You looked at him, your body trembling with desire as he continued to touch and kiss

you. “I’m yours, Charles,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both need and certainty.

Charles’s expression softened into one of profound relief and adoration, but a trace of jealousy lingered in his eyes, his gaze never leaving yours. As he positioned himself between your legs, there was a mixture of tenderness and possessiveness in his touch. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured, his voice filled with deep emotion and a hint of a possessive edge.

With that, he entered you slowly, his movements tender yet unmistakably possessive. His thrusts were gentle and loving, but each one was infused with a sense of claiming, as though he was marking you as his own. His kisses were gentle but urgent, his lips traveling down your neck as he began to suck and nibble, leaving marks that would clearly show his affection and his possessiveness.

You gasped, feeling the intensity of his touch. “Charles, be careful. They will be visible,” you said, your voice a mixture of concern and pleasure.

Charles’s eyes darkened with a mix of satisfaction and jealousy. “That’s the point,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low growl filled with both desire and a possessive undertone. “I want him to see and know that you belong to me. I want him to see what he’s missing, that you’re mine and mine alone.”

His words stirred something deep within you, causing a moan to escape your lips that was loud and unrestrained, a testament to the intense pleasure you were experiencing. Your hand instinctively traveled up to his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled gently but firmly. The sensation of his hair being tugged caused him to shiver, and he let out a deep, guttural moan that reverberated against your skin.

Charles’s reaction was immediate and visceral. He groaned softly, his breath coming in ragged bursts as the pull on his hair heightened his arousal. “Fuck...” he whispered, his voice trembling with both pleasure and disbelief. The feeling of your fingers in his hair only intensified his longing, making him feel as though he were losing control. “Merde… that feels so good,” he muttered, his tone rough and desperate. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

The way you tugged at his hair drove him to new heights of pleasure, his moans growing louder and more fervent as he lost himself in the sensations. Each pull sent a jolt of electricity through him, making his movements more urgent and fervent, as though he were trying to convey just how deeply your touch affected him.

As he continued, his thrusts maintained a balance of gentle passion and possessive claim, his hands gripping you with a mix of tenderness and assertion. The rhythm of his movements was both caring and commanding, a reflection of his deep, conflicted emotions. His kisses left a trail of marks, each one a silent declaration of his fierce, consuming love and possessiveness.

Charles’s eyes lock onto yours, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts. “I-I’m so close,” he gasps, his voice strained with the intensity of the moment. The desperate need in his eyes makes your heart race, his body pressing into yours with a fervor that only heightens your own arousal.

You can barely hold back your own pleasure, the sensations coursing through you almost overwhelming. “Me too” you moan, your voice trembling as you inch closer to the edge. “Come for me, Charles,” 

Your encouragement is the final push he needs, and his body reacts instantly. The combination of your words and the electric tension between you drives him over the edge. The urgency in Charles’s movements and the heat of his gaze as tumbles over the edge draws you to the peak of your ecstasy with him.

As the two of you reached the peak of your intimacy, Charles’s moans mingled with your own, creating a symphony of pleasure and connection that echoed through the room. The shared release was an explosion of ecstasy that left you both trembling and gasping, entwined in the aftermath of your union. 

When the world finally settled and the waves of pleasure began to recede, Charles held you close, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he whispered, “God, you have no idea how long I’ve been in love with you.”

You smiled through your own breathless satisfaction, responding softly, “I could say the same to you.”

Charles’s expression softened further as he kissed you tenderly, his hands caressing your skin with a gentleness that spoke of his deep affection. The moment was filled with a profound sense of connection and fulfillment, a testament to the depth of his feelings and the strength of your bond.

masterlist

[edward-munson]

ice cream | E.M.

Summary: It's present day, there's smartphones, social media and Spotify. You and Eddie discover you hold feelings for each other, in a very different way. He likes to show you intimate things he sees on his Twitter and you decide to try it out. (A/N: You'll know why it's called ice cream hehe)

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ MDNI, masturbation, protected sex (p in v), mentions of slight kink

Word count: 3.8k

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

You usually invite Eddie over before going out. It's like a ritual you've been doing over the years, and you both have a few beers as a warm-up too. Sometimes you get more excited and tend to make some drinks for yourself. Sometimes you get him to do it with you.

He's sitting in the easychair on the corner of your bedroom, scrolling through his phone as he listens to his playlist on Spotify. You're finally getting ready after taking a shower and getting dressed first before doing your makeup. Eddie doesn't bother to look at you when you're only in your lingerie, he doesn't care because he's respectful. And that's absolutely charming to you.

He shows you memes and reels in his Instagram and gets you distracted since you're both a little tipsy from the alcohol. He gets on Twitter and snorts when he sees a page that posts different sex positions every day. Sometimes, they're too awkward and maybe a little too much for him.

He's the kind of a missionary guy but he also likes to bend someone over and hit from the back. Which is something he normally doesn't do much, but it's one of his favorite things to do.

You two have never done anything, although you have a great connection and sometimes it makes people think you're together. They always think you're hooking up or going out. Even your friends think that too. It's unbelievably sweet when you're together, because he treats you well. He likes to take care of you, but not like in an older brother way.

As your best friend, Robin tells you that you should invest in this relationship, but you wouldn't wanna ruin it. You know he wouldn't ruin it, but it's been so good that way. It's hard to actually take a step further.

And then when you ask him what he just saw, he turns his phone at you and shows you the picture. "Position 187: Ice Cream" You read out loud.

The image shows a man sitting on his knees, while a woman sits on top of him, her back on his chest, her hands on his thighs as he holds her breasts with both hands. You sure have never tried that before, though. And it shows Eddie hasn't either.

"It's a cute name, isn't it?" He asks as he continues to scroll on his phone.

While you pick a fine dress to put on, you look over your shoulder and laugh. "I don't get why it's called that, but whatever suits them"

You fix the straps of the light blue dress over your shoulder and suddenly you hear Eddie clearing his throat behind you. For a second, you thought it was his dirty imagination picturing himself doing that with someone, so you don't mind him.

But when you turn on your heel to pick your makeup case, you see him looking you over from the corner of his eyes.

"Eddie, sweetheart" You call him out and he looks up at you. Puppy brown eyes trying to play dumb.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"You having a good time checking me out?" You muse, making fun of the way he was focused on looking at your curves.

Eddie widens his eyes and tries to pretend he didn't do anything. He waves you off and looks back at his phone, again, pretending he didn't do anything. But this time, the screen is off and you can't help but cackle.

"You scroll your phone with the screen turned off?"

He tries to laugh at it, but it comes off as a nervous laugh. He didn't think he was being indiscreet like that. Eddie looks up at you and bites his lips.

"Fine, I was. But, it's your fault! Look at you all gorgeous wearing that dress" He heaves dramatically.

You pick up his phone off his hand and place it over your nightstand. You don't know where you got that extra confidence, the crazy idea you just had in your mind, but you used it in your favor, sitting down on his lap.

Eddie looks at you funny, a weird expression over his face when he sees you sitting on his thigh. You wrap your arms around his neck and bring your lips close to his ear.

"Do you wanna try ice cream with me? While I wear this dress?" You ask in a whisper, fanning his skin.

Eddie holds your waist carefully, but there's a small electricity travelling through his bloodstream as you stay this close to him. He knew he was a goner for you a while ago, he just didn't want to admit it. He didn't think he would have a chance with you anyway. He just never tried. Steve and Jonathan told him you guys were a match long before, but he didn't listen.

He swallowed a lump in his throat, not feeling like he was able to speak. There's a rush in his head for a few seconds, because he feels his underwear getting too small for his ingrown bulge. You use his reaction as leverage and plant sweet and wet kisses over his neck, feeling the way his skin was shivering.

You trailed his scruffy beard, enjoying how the small hairs tickled your skin. In the background, a song by Black Sabbath filled the air that was becoming dense from the tension. He used his left hand that was free and placed it tenderly on your thigh, his fingertips grazing your skin. His fingers were just a few inches far from your groin, your own body reacting to his touch.

"I– I would love to, sweetie. But you don't think it's wrong?" He asks, holding back the urge to throw you over your bed and bend you.

You shake your head as a response, trying to make him comfortable and confident. You slide one hand down his chest, his t-shirt covering him. It's a shame he doesn't like to wear buttoned shirts, because otherwise you would've ripped it off by now. His lips are forming a thin line, like he's trying to absorb the idea, because he really wants it.

You already feel his hard cock touching the side of your leg and it makes you want him even more. Eddie doesn't want to just fuck you, because you're not just someone else to him. He wants to give you pleasure, he wants to give you a good time. He wants you to feel good and not used.

He wraps one hand around your neck, like he just figured out you liked being held that way and pulled you against him. He kisses you hurriedly for a few seconds, before clashing his tongue against yours. He tastes the beer you had, it's kind of bitter and sweet at the same time. He breathes through his mouth and forces his eyes shut.

You pull the collar of his clothing while you pull back the hair from the nape of his neck. It's a fervent and sweet kiss, you both play with your tongues as you deepen it, feeling him move a little under you.

It takes a lot of you to break the kiss, but the urgency of having him inside of you was growing uncontrollably and he felt it too. You got up from his lap and pulled his hand until you were both standing on the foot of your bed.

The hem of your dress went up a few inches and Eddie glanced at your ass for a small fraction of time. He wanted to touch it, grab it, squeeze it and even bite it if it was possible.

"How do you want it, Eds?" He felt his heartbeat quicken as he heard his nickname rolling off your tongue sweetly.

He immediately unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, getting rid of it, feeling a small relief. You grazed his bulge in your small hand and gave it a little squeeze, making Eddie grab your face and kiss you again. It wasn't even romantic, it was desperate and lustful. You stroked him through his underwear and he buckled his hip forward in response.

"Turn around, sweetie" He asked in a rushed, husky tone and you obeyed.

You faced your bed, your knees touching the end of it. He carefully placed a hand on the small of your back and bent you over, making you lean against the mattress. You heard him groan, before giving your ass a light squeeze with both hands. He didn't even bother taking off his rings.

"Such a pretty ass, fucking God" He praised you, his voice a little deep.

He spread kisses all over your skin before surprising you with a slap on one cheek. It wasn't hard and it didn't hurt, which surprised you. You immediately felt your stomach sink as you started to feel turned on. Eddie slapped the other cheek and praised it, kissing it back. His hand was soft but you could feel his calloused fingertips stroking your skin gently.

He went straight to your bedside table and grabbed a condom. He wanted to do it right, and he knew what you kept in there because he saw it once. It wasn’t intentional but it came in handy.

He pulled his shirt off and wrapped his cock, jerking off slightly taking a step back to have a better look at you. Eddie couldn't believe he was actually doing it with you. He dreamed of this countless times but he never told anyone, not even Steve.

He kept his hand around his length firmly and stared at your ass, your cunt glistening from your arousal.

He stepped forward again before he pulled your underwear to the side. You felt your pussy throbbing for him already, you were soaking for him and you whimpered as you felt his fingers collecting your wetness.

His fingers weren't like you imagined, he softly stroked your slit and used two fingers to massage your clit, your legs started to buckle immediately and you had to prop yourself before you dropped your weight on the bed. He drew circles around you, his other hand was planted on your ass.

You mewled and had to bite your lower lip when he pushed his thumb inside of your pussy. It was enough for you to feel the roughness of his skin and how thick it actually is. Eddie pushed it further and felt your walls contracting from his touch, keeping a slow pace as he moved it back and forth.

"Oh my God, Eddie" You moaned his name and his cock jumped up to the sound of your voice.

He slapped you again with his other hand, fucking you with his fingers, stroking your clit as his thumb touched your inside mercilessly. You started to ride his fingers, gripping the sheet tightly as you felt the pleasure rising up in your body.

He couldn't help but take in the sight of you, drunk on his touches and whimpering his name. He bit his lip from groaning because he didn't want to look miserable, when in fact, he was already feeling too lost in his own thoughts.

"You look so hot from up here, sweetie" He rasped, his heart was racing and he felt his own legs trembling.

You didn't want him to stop, but at the same time, you wanted to ride him, to feel him balls deep inside of you. His fingers were fast but gentle and it was making you feel dizzy. His thumb was pressing against your most sensitive spot, giving you that blissful feeling.

You look over your shoulder, watching him shirtless, his necklace hanging over his chest and his dick hard rock almost touching your ass. Your throat left a sexual whimper that made him glance up at your eyes. Eddie licked his lip and hissed when he grabbed your ass and squeezed it.

You were exchanging a satisfying and lustful look, one that didn't make it uncomfortable to deal with. It was a knowing look, to be exact. His brain was barely functioning and when he pressed his forefinger against your clit, you didn't hold back the moan that left your mouth. He pulled his fingers back from you, they were wet and dripping over his hand.

You were still looking at him when you saw the way he didn't hesitate to taste you as he licked his fingers, pulling them inside his mouth, savoring your cunt. It was audible how he hummed in the back of his throat, closing his eyes and sucking his fingers.

You were still leaning on your knees, your cunt clenching at the sight of him doing it in front of you. You would never imagine this would happen. You would never actually imagine Eddie would be one to do such a thing, but it's just because you've never actually had an intimate relationship, not like that though.

He opened his eyes and dropped his hand, now looking deep in your eyes and he walks towards you and holds your ass with both hands.

"I'm gonna go slow, okay?" He asks, but you're in such a haze you barely understand what he's saying, just nodding.

Eddie holds his cock and pushes the tip into your pussy, the small entrance making his body rigid. It doesn't hurt for you, but it's a little bit uncomfortable because he's slightly thick. He slowly gets inside of you, and you contract your pussy around him so fast, he stopped breathing for a second.

His eyes closed forcefully, his hands gripped your ass tightly. As he felt the base of his shaft hitting you, he pulled back slowly and repeated his move. He started to thrust against you, feeling your cunt too tight against his cock. His senses were too heightened at this point, his hips pushing forward hitting your ass.

You couldn't stop heaving, crying lustfully and whimpering his name. His waist was slapping against you and the sound of his dick hitting your walls was making you moan louder.

"Fuck, Eddie. That's so good" You mewl and he thrusts harder against you in response.

"You're taking me so good, sweetie. So fucking good" He doesn't hide the way he wants to groan and vocalize his reactions and you loved it.

He slid his hand against your skin until he reached for your arms, pulling you up so you would lean your back against his chest. As the position changes, you feel him deeply inside of you. You can't express how much it makes your body shiver. He gently wraps his hand around your neck, squeezing it rather aggressively but still cautiously. He uses his other arm to hold your waist as he pounds on you.

He rests his chin against your shoulder, his breath hitting your ear. If he wasn't holding you, you would probably just turn into a puddle right in front of him. His cock fits in and you can feel his balls slapping against your skin as well.

You're both a mess of moans and grunts, the sound of the two of you mixing with the music of his playlist that was long forgotten. You're holding his forearm for support, your eyes closed as you concentrate on your pleasure.

Eddie is behind you, praising you next to your ear, fucking you senseless. His thrusts are becoming faster and you don't think you've ever felt this good before.

"You like that, huh?" He chuckles and his breath reaches your ear. His rough voice is echoing inside your head. You don't respond, you're too high. "You like me fucking you, sweetie?"

He suddenly stops pounding on you, filling your pussy with his cock until you feel the tip on your cervix. He reaches one of your breasts and grips it tightly. His other hand that's still resting on your neck, he squeezes it harder, enough for you to choke. Enough for you to still breathe. He knows how to manage it. It makes you feel more turned on for him.

You just nod, you're almost losing your senses. He kisses the curve of your neck, leaving a pepper kiss on it. He can almost taste the salty sweat of it. "You know what? I love it too"

He didn't give you time to recover, surprising you as he thrusted hardly against you, just once. "I love the way you taste, you're so sweet". One more thrust. "You look so gorgeous on your knees for me". Another one.

"Eddie, please" You plead, your voice almost faltering as you're still holding him. "Just keep going".

He likes to be dominant, but he also likes to be the bottom sometimes. But tonight, he wants to show you what he can do. It's not like he needs to prove anything to you, but he wants to make sure you have a good time with him. He wants to have all of it, he wants to enjoy it as much as he can.

"We're doing Ice Cream, remember?" He slowly asks, softly dropping his hand off your neck.

He gets on the mattress, sitting on his knees and he tries to adjust you on top of him, just like he saw in the picture. You position yourself on top of him, your knees up. You sink down and Eddie throws his head back, not expecting the sensation to be so overwhelming.

This time, you're doing most of the work. You ride him, your ass slapping against his thighs. Again, he wraps his hand around your neck and chokes you without much intensity. His other hand grips your hardened nipple and he tries to thrust up against you.

He knows his legs are going to hurt later, but he can handle the pain because it's worth it.

You throw your arm back and wrap it around his shoulders, holding him so you can easily ride him. The air started to feel damp, your bodies starting to sweat and stick to each other.

"You're so beautiful" He surprises you with a compliment and your cheeks flush. "So good to me. I wish I could've had asked you out before"

You don't know how to answer this. You're in pure bliss. Your head starts spinning and you're almost losing control of your body. He drops his hand lower until he reaches for your clit, but you stop him. You want to feel it all. You want to cum without that little help. He respects it and gets back to squeezing your breast firmly, pinching your nipple.

You're both in sync, him pounding on you, you sitting on him, balls deep. Eddie doesn't want to let go of you, but he knows he's going to cum soon. He kisses all over your skin, he savors your salty skin, he hums against it. He feels his stomach tying to a knot and he knows he's getting closer. But he wants you to go first.

"Cum for me, lovely. I want you to drench my cock" His words make you stagnant and you feel your legs squirming.

You start to roll your hips, squeezing his cock so hard he grips you harder entirely. You throw your head back as you feel yourself clenching around him, your hips stutter and your legs start shaking. He holds you closer and waits for you to come down from your high. Eddie feels your pussy throbbing against him, clenching around his dick tighter, swallowing him.

He feels your juices dripping down his cock as you tremble under his touch, you're almost convulsing. "Eddie, this is s'good" You mumble as you slowly start coming back to your senses.

He's not choking you anymore, he's not manhandling you, he's just holding you dearly for a few seconds before he starts stuttering as well.

His cock sputters cum all over inside of you, pulsing incessantly as he moans loudly against your ear. His arms squeeze you a little tight, his thighs contracting from both pleasure and tiredness. He rests his forehead on top of your shoulder, spreading lazy kisses against your skin. He stays a little longer, waiting for the buzz to slow down.

"This was so good sweetheart, you were perfect" He praises, dropping his arms down, gently lifting you up so he would pull out of you.

It's painful to leave from inside of you and he misses the feeling already. His dick still hard after a long orgasm. You don't have the energy to actually move, so you just sit there as you wait for him to throw out the condom. He puts on his underwear, crawling into your bed and sitting close to you.

He places his hand over your cheek that's still flushed and burning from the sweat. He licks his lower lip and smiles embarrassedly. "I think it's safe to say we've kinda ruined your dress".

You laugh kindly at his remark and nod. There is no way you're going to wear this to go out. And if anything, you probably need a shower. But before you get up, he pushes you closer and lays you down on your bed. He leans against his hand, his elbow resting on top of your pillow.

"Let's just take a breath for a moment, sweetie"

You agree, you just know it's going to be hard to walk now. Your legs are still shaking and they might as well feel like jell-o too. "You can still ask me out if you want, you know".

It catches him off guard when you say it. You've been wanting to go out with him for so long, it's only fair you two do it now. He smiles inwardly, looking down for a moment before he looks up at you again. He strokes your arm tenderly, going for your cheek again.

He's always been affectionate towards you, this time you think it's different and you feel butterflies fluttering around your stomach.

"I will, don't worry"

You stay like that for a few minutes, just trying to rest and relax before you decide to finally take a shower. He throws his t-shirt over his head, looking for his jeans and his socks. He doesn't even remember when he got rid of them in the first place.

You keep staring at him as he gets dressed. He has a few spare clothes in your closet, you know that. "You're not taking a shower after?"

He shakes his head, finally zipping up his pants, putting his sneakers on. "Nah, I'm a hard-rocker. We don't take showers".

Eddie shoots you the most generous smile and you can't help but giggle. You pick another dress and go to the bathroom while he just waits for you. The first thing he does is to text Steve and tell him what he just did. Not in detail, but he does. He can't rip the giant smile off his face.

This, thanks to the tweets he sees and shows you.

During the entire time you're with your friends at the karaoke bar, he can't stop looking at you. He can't stop thinking about the sex and how you trembled under him. He also can't believe he gave you one of the best orgasms you've ever had in your life.

"It's never too late, man" Steve approaches his friend, tapping on his shoulder. Eddie looks at him and nods, staring back at you.

[plutoswritingplanet]

It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt.3

a/n: so i lied about this being the last chapter, there's one more, i know im sorry....... also shout out to my friends, who were unbelievably helpful with the smut part because oh, there's smut here

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (yuuuh yuuuuuuh), Alcohol, like....a tiny bit of Humiliation.

Summary: The month-long courting comes to an end with a bang! As your engagement party commences, wine flows and darker feelings rise to the surface

Pt. 1, Pt.2 Pt.4 (finale)

In the darkness of the night, he still comes to you in your dreams, knife in hand, body taunt and ready to strike. Every single morning, you awake with a gasp, as visions of your tormentor plague you. In some, he slits your throat, reveling in the way red cascades down your nightgown. Other times, it's a quick and brutal stabbing, your insides twisting as you wake. 

But then, there are those rare nights where you rise from your bed, sweat clinging to your skin, as you fight with the pressure in your stomach, try to rid yourself of the images, before making yourself presentable for breakfast. 

Those dreams, nightmares, are the worst. 

White, elegant fingers, grabbing, pulling, pinching every surface of your exposed skin. Defined arms around you, squeezing your pliant body in an embrace that is as tender and romantic, as a snake suffocating its victim. Deceivingly soft lips, mapping a trail down your front, pulling back to reveal teeth, which make that same trail visible, hurting.

In those dreams, he paints you with black. Taints you, until you're molded into his perverse image, until there's no telling where he ends, and you begin. He makes you into a sculpture, in a way that an artist cuts away pieces of clay, slowly robbing you of all agency, until there's only what he wants to see. And you let him, with a trembling smile on your lips, hands twisted into the stained sheets of your bed. 

Ignoring him has become an art form as well.

Since your faithful tangle at the training barracks, you did everything in your power, to never appear in the same room as him, or at least, never alone. You became a shadow in your own home, a whisper of the person you used to be. Shame is a powerful thing, and you wore it like a wedding veil over your face. Paul would always help you, silently. Never asking outright what had happened between you and the Harkonnen, but somehow always knowing. Your brother, your salvation, breaks your heart everytime he grabs your hand, and leads you away from the predator in the room.

The date of your engagement party has been set a week into the future. The nervous bustling of the court only heightening your already wracked thoughts, as the inevitability of your situation begins to haul you to the ground. 

Your Mother took most of the preparations on her back, directing the servants, the kitchen, the musicians. She picked out a dress for you, some flowing abomination, which hung in your closet, reminding you every morning, that you will have to wear it with a smile. You hoped, there will be wine at the feast, hope that it will be sweet enough to dull your insides. 

As the date of the feast comes closer and closer, you begin to spend more time outside. 

The air is crisp and smells of seawater, and you can't help but inhale fully, every time. You want it seared into your brain, so whenever you're taken away from your home, you can run back to this memory, to the feel of grass under your fingers. 

- You'll catch a cold, if you keep sitting here.

Paul's voice brings you back from your dark thoughts, and you look up, from your spot in the grass. He stands a couple paces back, hands folded behind his back in a manner, that is reminding you of your Father more and more every day. 

- Do you want to join me? - you ask, your lips quirking up into a small smile - Or would you prefer to stand there like a pillar of salt?

Your brother shakes his head, before coming closer and plopping down next to you, his skinny legs stretched out in front of him. The both of you sit in silence for a while, enjoying the breeze ruffling your hair, the smell of ocean and the waves crashing into the cliffs. There are seagulls flying over your heads, and you feel the moisture from the grass seep into your clothing. 

A wistful sigh escapes you, before you can stop it, and you let yourself fall, laying flat on the hill. 

Paul looks down at you, undescribable sadness swimming in his eyes, and an instinct of sister awakes in you, a need to comfort, despite being a wreck yourself. So, you offer him a smile, a tired one, but a smile nonetheless. 

- Do you think we could take the horses for a ride today? - your brother asks with naive hope, his eyes turning to the sea.

- Mother won't allow me to go, she wants me to spend my pondering the proper behavior during the feast - try as you might, you can't hide the bitterness in your voice - Besides, I could fall off and hurt the merchandising. 

Paul's hand finds yours, and he squeezes your fingers tightly. It's hard not to break, in moments like these. When you're forced to remember, you'll most likely never see your family again. 

- If I could do something, anything... - you recognize that feverish note in your brother's voice, it's devoid of reason, impulsive, too much like you.

- But you can't, so you won't.

A frustrated sound escapes his mouth, and he turns back to the sea. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, eyelashes falling heavily on your cheeks. He looks like a Duke, you conclude, and that thought feels strangely comforting. No matter where you'll be shipped off, no matter what life has in store for you in the future, somehow, you know your brother will persevere. 

- Do you remember that time Gurney made us train on the beach? - you ask, a sudden wave of nostalgia washing over you, as the clouds float in the sky above you - Cause of the... The balance. We had to try to balance in the sand.

Paul twists his head towards you, surprised at the turn of the conversation, before cracking a smile. 

- Yes, he slipped on the rocks, nearly broke his backbone - he starts to wave his hands around in a wonderful reenactment of your mentor's fall, before collapsing next to you in the grass.

Your laughter mingles with the sounds of the sea, as the both of you, the future of House Atriedes, share memories, scenes from the life you've lived together. The good and the bad. The horse races through plains and hills of Caladan, the many, many food fights. It's hard to tell, how much time you spend together, laying in the grass, but when you finally fall into silence, the air has become considerably more chilly. A sign, it's time to return to reality, to your duties. 

- You should've been me, and I you - Paul whispers suddenly, and you close your eyes in a pained expression. 

Perhaps it's true. Perhaps Lady Jessica made a mistake, and gave a Daughter where she should've given a Son. Now, it's no longer important. Your roles have been set in place, all you could do, is fulfill them. Somewhere back, in the direction of the Palace you can hear a voice calling your names. A reminder, that the world outside this grassy sanctuary exists, and can't wait any longer. 

You move to stand, Paul gathering himself up closely behind. Your clothes stick to your body, and you're shivering from the cold, but if you could spend just one more moment exactly like that, you would've taken that chance without question. 

An arm snakes around your elbow, and you lean onto your brother's shoulder, as you start to walk back, steps swaying like a pair of drunkards. Then, Paul tugs you closer, you can feel him tense suddenly, as he leans with a sullen expression on his pale face.

- I hate the way he looks at you - he confesses, waves upon waves of righteous Atriedes fury crashing in his voice.

You don't know how to respond to that, so you stay silent, giving his arm a reassuring tug.

That was the last conversation you've had with your brother.

*** While the House Atriedes is characterized by a rather mellow temper, there was one thing they took extremely seriously. And those, unfortunately for you, were engagement rituals. 

So, that's why you sit posed like a porcelain doll in a deep chair, next to your soon-to-be husband, at the foot of a long table, surrounded by music, and dancing, and food. There are ribbons hung from the high ceilings, and flickering lights float around them like little fireflies. You watch, as they dance above you, the ridiculous headdress placed on your hair digs into your skul. Color surrounds you, your own dress flowing like a waterfall, elegant, yet delicate. The pools of fabric gather around your legs, a chiffon monstrosity, that you know, is supposed to make you beautiful. 

And perhaps you would've felt beautiful, if this was any other occasion. A birthday feast, perhaps. Dare you say, and engagement party with someone you actually loved. 

Speaking of which, your betrothed sits beside you, sticking out like a sore thumb. He looks utterly bored, eyes following the celebrating masses, hand playing with a steak knife. Not enough blood for his tastes, you suppose. He's dressed in traditional Harkonnen attire, which you think, doesn't really look that much different from all the other outfits you've seen him in. Black, sleek, efficient. You must be a curious pair, a mass of colorful materials and a black-stone pillar. 

The wine, thankfully, is sweet. It warms your face, and turns your insides into a pleasant mush. You should've eaten more, but then again, it was a celebration of your imprisonment, and if you wanted to get drunk, you would. And you did get drunk. Quickly. 

The dress moves with you, as you slowly slide down the chair, one leg resting up on the seat. A frightfully unbecoming sight, but you can't find it in yourself to care. Another, clumsy drink from your cup, and you sigh deeply, blinking a couple of times to rid yourself of sudden dizziness. 

Your betrothed gives you a look, whether it's of warning or amusement, you're not sure. And you don't care. Your nose scrunches in the general direction of his smooth head, and you take another sip, just to spite him.

- Shut up - you grumble, a slurr entering your words.

- I haven't said a word - he counters, and this time you can see him smile.

- You're thinking, it's annoying.

Feyd Rautha has an unpleasant laugh. 

Sharp and low, and very rough around the edges. It's like listening to an old spaceship try to take off, and you're sure you don't want to hear him laugh ever again. That's it, your goal in this, frankly, fucked up marriage, will be to never make your husband laugh. Although, it's best not to think about it so loudly, he might be a hidden mind reader, and would most likely laugh in your face every day, just to torture you. 

God. You were going to regret every sip come tomorrow morning.

- You're wrapped like a present - Feyd Rautha leans down with a smirk playing on his full lips, and you have to crane your neck to look him straight in the face - Shall I unwrap you here, while your family watches?

Despite the light tone, you shiver under his gaze. Something in the way his body seems relaxed yet tense at the same time tells you, this shameless man would do it in a heartbeat, if you as much as inclined your head. 

- Gross - you groan, hand untangling itself from the amassing of chiffon to push back at his face.

It's the first time, you've touched him out of your own volition, and even in your drunken daze, you note the sudden glint in his eyes. Fingers grab at your wrist, keeping you in place, as he leans further into your touch, turning his head slightly. Wine mixes with sudden embarrassment, as his lips brush against the meat of your palm. Then, black teeth shine and your heart jumps to your throat, as he bites down on your skin, hard enough to make you jump. Tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your thumb, before giving your fingertip a tiny nibble.

You tear your hand away from him, pressing it into your chest with an appalled expression. There are indents just below your thumb in the shape of his teeth, and the confounding feelings you've been trying to stoke for almost a month now, come crashing down upon you.

He looks satisfied with himself, returning back to his seat, and his steak knife. The utensil reflects the flowing lights, and despite yourself you swallow thickly, turning back to your cup, which is quickly becoming empty.

God, it was getting incessantly hot in this cursed dining hall. 

Whether it was the wine, or the sudden wave of knee-bending arousal washing through you, you couldn't tell. (It was both, you were fully aware it was both) And you're uncomfortable, terribly so. You fidget in your seat, almost painfully aware of the heat, which has now spread further down. The fabric of the dress slides against your body, skin becoming far too sensitive, too hungry for touch. You try to relieve some of your torment, legs squeezing and rubbing together. Treacherous tongues of self-awareness rear its ugly heads, and you look up, and...

Of course he noticed. 

Feyd Rautha places his chin in his hand, and he observes you with a knowing look, which turns dark and terrifying as soon as your eyes meet.

- Careful, lest the court starts talking - he warns you, his voice somehow becoming deeper than before, and you take a shuddering breath.

Dagnerous, this is dangerous.

 You're seated far away from your family, from any consolation, and even if they were close enough to intervene, the masses of dancing people, the sound of their laughter... Your heart stops, a snake curling itself around your insides. Truly, if that beast of a man wanted to, he could make do of his threat from earlier, and take you where you sit. Haunted by that thought, both terrifying and arousing, you down the rest of your wine. 

It doesn't taste as good anymore. Hell, it threatens to come back up, until you force it to sit in your stomach. 

Duncan, you need to find Duncan, or you'll do something incredibly stupid. You'll do something incredibly stupid either way, but at least the regret will be less biting. So, pulling yourself up on trembling arms, you shuffle out of your chair, your betrothed's heated gaze following you on your way through the hall. 

People don't even look at you, too enraptured with free food and drinks, and the music, which flows loudly through the air. Good, in any other case, the Duke's Daughter, stumbling drunk through corridors, would certainly lift some eyebrows. Your feet carry you towards the training barracks, a familiar route you've followed many times. Indulging in sex with your Father's most trusted advisor was not the healthiest form of regulating emotions, but you needed something, and God knows, you'd rather die than get it from anyone else. From Him especially.

The choice is made for you, however, as a strong hand wraps itself around your arm, just above your elbow, yanking you backwards, behind a stone column. The world spins in front of your eyes, and for a second you worry the company of wine warming your insides is about to abandon you along with breakfast. 

- Do you truly thought, you could sneak away from me?

Finally, your eyes focus on Fey Rautha's face, almost demonic in the low light of the corridor. Shadows play on his expression, falling heavily over his eyes, and you try to wrench yourself from his grasp.

- What I do is none of your business - you slurr out, wringing your arm every which way, his fingers digging painfully into your flesh - Let go of me.

The Harkonnen presses himself closer to you, trapping your body between the stone and himself. His nose nearly crushes itself into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, taking a disturbing long whiff. You can feel his chest vibrate against your own, as he groans deep within his throat. It sobers you up in record speed, and you start to thrash in his hold. He subdues your outburst, as if he was made for it, before dragging his nose up, towards your hair. You snarl like a wild animal.

- Let me go. 

His body moves on its own accord, tearing itself away from you in an instant, legs tripping over themselves, to put distance between your bodies. He looks up at you, muscles tense and an expression of shock painted across his pale face. 

The ability to use the Voice was something you rarely took part in. Training sessions with your Mother went well, as expected of a woman, but you still had a lot of work ahead of you. You blink forcefully, steadying yourself against the wall behind you. Then, you notice the borderline murderous look on your soon-to-be husband's face.

- Witch - he spits out, baring his blackened teeth at you.

- I am the Daughter of Duke Atriedes - your voice carries a note of righteous pride, despite dread climbing up your spine - And you will treat me with respect, wedded or not.

He straightens himself with petrifying speed, and as he takes a step towards you, actions overtake reflection. Your hand winds back, and you bring a resounding slap across his sharp cheekbone. While your palm blooms with pain, he seems to barely react, closing the distance between the two of you after a tense beat. Before you have a chance to react again, his hands grab at your face, and his lips crash against yours in a punishing kiss.

Teeth clink together and the momentum of the kiss makes your head collide with the stone pillar behind you. He's fingers dig into your cheeks and your jaw, as he devours you completely, bringing down all your defences in one swoop. You kiss him back, almost immediately, opening your mouth to let him in, to meet his tongue halfway. It's almost grotesque, how much you hate and love this at the same time, the buzzing of the wine mixing with the sound of your racing heart, with the sound of his unabashed sounds of pleasure. 

Hands flail at your sides, as you grab all you can take, pulling him even closer by the thick fabric of his tunic. 

His hands however, know exactly what they want, and as he lets go of your face, they both sink down. Fingers hook into the neckline of your dress, and he tears it down, your entire body swaying with the force of his movement. Your breasts are freed for only just a moment, cold air hitting them in a way that would be uncomfortable, if they weren't immediately covered by your betrothed's large palm. He palms at your chest, as if he wants to crush it, and you bite back a whine, which threatens to spill from your abused lips. 

- Don't - he growls a warning, unoccupied hand tangling itself within your hair - Sing.

And you do. As his mouth descends upon your neglected breast, where he alternates between licks and bites that make your back fly off the wall. Once again you don't know what to do with your hands, finding them entirely useless in the Harkonnen's overpowering grasp. One, grabs at his shoulder, undecided on whether to push him off, or pull him in closer. The other one scratches four lines into his skull, as he sucks on the sensitive skin under your ribs. 

Finally, he detaches from you completely, standing straight and regarding you with a look so intensely ravenous, it shakes you to your core. Your exposed chest rises and falls in tandem with your heaving breaths, and you shiver, as cold air hits your skin. His gaze drinks in your dissheveled hair, the way your lips are puffy and red. A beautiful sight for his blackened eyes. 

- I know who you went looking for - he starts, stalking towards you once again - Can't have that, can I?

You debate feigning confusion, outrage at such accusation, which hasn't really been uttered yet. But, as Feyd Rautha stops just short of the bottom hem of your dress, you suddenly find yourself unable to speak. Instead, as a last ditched effort to rid yourself of him, your hand extends, a half-hazard attempt at liberation. He swats it away, as one would a mere fly, before sinking to his knees in front of you. 

- Lift up your dress, Viper - his voice is like thunder in your ears, and you bite your lips at the sight of his eyes, dark and surprisingly eager.

Hands move clumsily in an effort to gather all those translucent layers. You nearly trip over yourself, earning a rather nasty chuckle from below. As soon, as your legs are visible, he dives between the chiffon, his head dissapearing from sight. You can feel his lips, traveling up the expanse of your calf, giving a light bite under your knee. 

Anticipation siezes your gut, and you grab onto the wall, as if that would save you. His hands grab your leg, skin incredibly warm to the touch for someone who looks so cold, and then, with forceful tugs, he starts to manouver you. 

You let out an unbecoming squeak, as he yanks your leg over his shoulder. Strong hands keep you in place, and he reaches out around the upper part of your thigh to all but tear your undergarments off of your core. The force of this action makes you jump in place on your one available leg, just to hold your balance, and for a second you consider swatting at him. 

That thought leaves you almost immediately after it appears, as an onslaugh of kitten licks unleashes downward. A vague, head like shape moves under your dress, the chiffon floating from place to place like a hypnotizing river. The wine must've heightened your senses to an alarming degree, because as soon as Feyd Rautha begins his ministrations, you're a mess. 

It's honestly humiliating, the way you fight for any purchase on the wall behind you, as he begins to lick in earnes, parting your legs further with one hand, while the other wraps securely around your used leg. While there, he cops a feel of your behind, fingers biting into the soft flesh, and you lock your lower lip between your teeth so hard, you can taste blood on your tongue.

As if he's developed some new telepathic talents, his hand leaves your ass, in favor of winding up, and slapping it harshly. The action makes your jump in place once again, a sound stuck between outrage and glee fleeing your throat, before you have the chance to stop it. Right, "sing", you remind yourself, and immediately feel him change his tactics. 

Your bundle of nerves opens new possibilities of torment, and as his lips close around the bud, you can't help the whine, escaping through your lips. The music is loud, you remind yourself. They won't hear, no one will hear. His hand pushes your dangling leg further up your shoulder, and your back arches from the stone. You will be sore as all hell after this is done, but for now, it doesn't matter. Nothing really matters, except the way your betrothed eats you out, like a man who's been starved for decades.

- Oh shit - you curse, hands flailing uselessly - Oh fuck!

All of a sudden, everything stops, and your building peak subsides into a dissatisfactory simmer. Feyd Rautha's head emerges from under the fabric, a terrible, shit-eating grin on his wet lips.

- Such language? - he teases, tongue darting out to lap at your arousal - So unbecoming of a-...

- Fucking don't stop! - there's panic in your movements, as you grab the back of his head, and shove him right under your dress again.

The laughter should be unsettling for you, but he returns to his post with twice as much motivation, and however more strength, and before you know it, your orgasm sneaks upon you. A sudden tightness in your core is all the warning you get, before the coil snaps, and your entire body starts to spasm in pleasure. 

It's good. Incredibly so. You'd risk saying it's the most intense you've ever came, but never out loud, never to him. That shameful secret was between you and whatever God that was listening. Stars erupt behind your eyelids, your breathing stopping for just a moment. 

And then you go deliciously limp, legs giving out completely. 

To his credit, the Harkonnen catches you before you hit the floor, the arm curling around your leg proving to be an unmeasurable support. His head emerges from under the dress once again, and he lets you slide down the wall, until you're seated. He sways on the balls of his feet, still towering you, even as he crouches. 

You swallow, throat slightly raw from all the noise you've done moments ago, and he follows the movements of your neck muscles with greedy eyes. Still greedy, after taking so much. Truly, he was a Harkonnen. And before you can stop yourself, a thought materializes in your brain, a treacherous little information, which would shake you to the core, if your muscles weren't currently made of taffy.

He blushes pink. Your betrothed blushes pink, from the exercise of making you cum on his tongue alone. God, what a precious sight.

He must've noticed the serene smile playing upon your lips, and his nature to ruin comes to light. His hand reaches back, and you freeze in your spot, as you recognize that damned golden steak knife. The blade shines in the dimly lit corridor, making your breathing faster, questions swimming behind your eyes. You don't really want to fight him in this state, but you fucking will, if he tries anything. 

- An engagement present, for you, Viper. - he rasps, licking his reddened lips in an obscene display, which doesn't repulse you quite as much as it should. 

- I have nothing to give in return - your voice is stern, and your betrothed flashes you an evil grin.

Then, he presents you the tip of the knife, golden utensil hanging between his slender fingers, and you look up at him, not understanding what is expected of you. Placing one knee on the floor, Feyd Rautha lowers himself to your eye level, for the hundredth of times surprising you with the sheer grace in his movements. 

- Kiss - he whispers, into the space between the both of you.

Your eyes fall to the knife, then, to him and you take a long, deep breath. Pride, your biggest flaw, takes a deadly hit, as the man twists the knife in his fingers, looking at you expectedly. You hate him, truly and deeply, and it must be showing on your face, because he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, as soon as your eyes meet. 

Swallowing your pride, you keep his gaze, leaning towards the blade. Your lips press delicately against the cool metal and the Harkonnen flashes you a nasty, self-satisfied smirk, before slipping the knife up his sleeve and standing up. 

- I'll see you back at the feast - he gives you a small bow, and you press your lips tightly together.

- Fuck you.

- After the wedding, my Viper.

And with that, he turns around.

 You're left there, on the floor, your dignity in shambles, the exertion catching up to you all at once, as if his presence alone was the only thing keeping you from feeling pain. A stupid thought, you chastize yourself, before slowly pulling yourself from the cold tiles. 

It takes you a couple of shameful minutes, trying to put yourself back together again. The ridiculous headdress, which has slipped all the way down from your hair, will probably never look the same, as when your Mother has styled it, but you can't find it in yourself to care. 

The music still plays, as you enter the hall, and thankfully, no one notices your arrival. No one but your betrothed, who raises his drinking cup in your direction, as if nothing had happened. His face is annoying, you conclude, and turn away, your aching legs taking you towards the center of the room, where people danced and sang in celebration of your engagement. What a lovely sight, what a lovely couple. Opposites attract, right?

Bitter, aching and humiliated, you throw yourself into the crowd, let it sway you from place to place, as you dance away this whole wretched week. The whole month-long courting rituals, which were just a bullshit attempt at torture. 

It's said, that when Death comes to take your soul, you're allowed one more dance before the eternal void. 

So you dance. 

[moonstruckme]

Congrats on 8k!!! You deserve all the love and more <3 also the holiday/winter theme is so so so cute!! Literally cannot even begin to describe how much I adore you and your talent and the fact that you give back and share your wonderful writing with us makes me so unbelievably happy <3

Can I request a hot cocoa drabble with Remus and the prompt wrapping paper from the 2nd list? Much love to you!! And congratulations again!!

I adore you! Ty for requesting angel <3

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 653 words

You watch out of the corner of your eye as Remus carefully folds the wrapping paper over itself, lining the triangle up against the side of his box. He curses. 

You giggle. “How are you so regimented and so bad at this?” 

“Hush.” He rolls his eyes, reaching across you for the tape. “It’s fine.” 

“The label is showing,” you say, trying to be gentle but only hitting amused. “You can’t leave it like that, she’s gonna know what it is.” 

“I’ll cut a square of wrapping paper to cover that part.” 

“Another patch job?” You shake your head at him, grinning. “Rem, I can’t let you bring these to the function. They’re an embarrassment.” 

“The function,” says Remus, cutting through the wrapping paper with a pointed slice, “is already going to have gifts wrapped by James, which always look like he’s let Harry do them, and Sirius is most likely going to bring his in bags. I guarantee ours won’t be the worst there.” 

“It’s just a little embarrassing,” you murmur, really only teasing him. You start folding a ribbon into gentle curves on the top of your box. “I thought I had this really competent boyfriend, but…” 

“Didn’t I tell you to hush?” Remus asks, but his laughter betrays him. The light from your tree smoothes out the lines of his face, his eyes warm and glittering and lashes kissing at the corners. You wish suddenly that you had a camera on hand, but there’s no chance film could capture how perfectly happy he looks.

Remus smooths tape over his patch of wrapping paper with swift, vaguely menacing movements. “I’ll have you know, I am very competent,” he says. 

“It’s gonna take a knife to open that with all the tape on it,” you observe solemnly.

“I am very competent,” he repeats, and you suck in a breath when he locks his hands around your ankles, dragging you to him with one swift motion. You can forget how strong Remus is, sometimes. He’s not very physical usually, but you’ve riled him into playfulness. “You ask Lily tomorrow who the most competent man in her home is, and you get back to me on what she says, yeah?” 

“Well,” you’re giggling, caught under his stern gaze and bubbling with giddy anticipation, “if you limit it to the men, the bar can’t be very high. Lily and I are more competent than the three of you.” 

“How do you figure?” 

“You can look at my gifts, for starters.” 

Remus has an excellent poker face. He squeezes your calf at the jab, and your nervous giggling intensifies. “We’ll see how you feel about your competence when you make your own tea tomorrow.” 

“No wait! Wait.” You get into his lap, trying your hardest to school your features into some sort of contrition. Smooth your hands up and down his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I love you. Have I told you I love you lately?” 

“Not without ulterior motive,” Remus says drily. 

Your lips turn down in a real frown. “That’s not true.” 

“No.” He rolls his eyes, grunting as he pulls you further up his lap. “It’s not, lovely. What, you’re the only one who gets to tease?” 

“Mhm,” you hum, teasing. 

Remus chuffs like you’re something else, but his lips touching to your nose are gentle. “So what if I’m not the best at wrapping? You can’t make your own tea.” 

“I can…it’s just not as good as when you do it.” 

“Some could argue that’s a much more everyday sort of competence, dove.” 

You make a quiet scoff of protest, not very convincing. Remus smiles. His hands stroke your sides. 

“So. We’re going to put my gifts under James and Lily’s tree without complaint, hm?” 

You feel your nose wrinkle. “Without any complaint? I feel like some damage control is necessary.” 

“Remember your tea.” 

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Right. No complaints here.”

[zroronoas]

roommate!ace pt. 2

you can read the first part here!

a/n: me bc i'm currently on impel down 😔

-

-after the last cuddling situation with ace, he's a lot more clingy and touchy now. if you're sitting on the couch on your phone or watching tv, he will literally just move you and wrap his arms around you. though it does end in you kicking him off because he makes you so unbelievably nervous and he can't just cuddle you??

"ouch! you're so mean to me!" he yelps while rubbing the arm that hit the coffee table.

"i told you not to do that!"

and you're yelling at him but your face is extremely red and you can feel yourself start to sweat.

-ace has always loved randomly coming into your room and just laying on the bed, but instead of just laying at your feet like he usually does, he literally gets under the covers and tries to get you to be the big spoon.

"how many times do i have to tell you to stay out of my bed?" you grumble. while you're complaining, he's grabbing your arms and forcing them around his waist. he's silently thanking the universe that he's turned around and you can't see the gigantic smile on his face.

-when he comes back to the apartment, he likes to shout as loud as he can that he's home. he says it makes him feel like you guys are a married couple.

"honey, i'm home!" he grins. he flings his shoes off before he runs to you with his arms wide open. it becomes a routine, you try to pry his arms off of you and avoid his hug, but he always wins.

-on the very rare occasion that he comes home drunk, his clinginess only gets worse. when you do get him into his bed, he literally will not let you leave him. if you do manage to get up without him, he'll stumble through the whole apartment trying to follow you around.

"ace! i told you to stay in bed!"

"but i miss you!"

he has you caged between his body and the counter, just literally leaning on you. you're about to collapse because it's ace and he's heavy, but you also can't help but find him endearing. his cheeks are flushed, he can barely keep his eyes open, and his arms are loosely wrapped around you.

but then he does the worst thing he could possibly do; he tries to kiss you.

of course, you don't let it happen. right when his lips are about to meet yours, you lightly push his chest. the rejection seems to sober him up, and his eyes widen and he's just continuously apologizing to you.

"i'm sorry! i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, i'm so sorry!"

"ace, it's okay. let's just get you to bed, yeah?"

he finally lets you bring him to his bed and when you leave, he doesn't dare get up and follow you. he also can't sleep that night, despite being drunk. he's so embarrassed and he feels so bad that he made you feel weird.

but little does he know, you're rolling around in your bed and kicking your feet because the guy you've liked for a whole year tried to kiss you? but then it does hit you that it was probably just because he was drunk and he didn't mean it, so now you're super embarrassed and you aren't sure if you can ever face him again.

the next morning, you wake up to a whole breakfast made by ace. he's in the kitchen with just his stupid slutty and sexy basketball shorts on and an apron. no shirt, just an apron.

when he sees you, he forces you to sit down and eat his pancakes that say "sorry" written in frosting. he sits down in front of you and just watches you eat, but you can tell that it's still really bothering him.

"ace, it's really okay. you were just drunk-"

"i know i was drunk but i meant it."

you nearly choke on your food at the confession. when you look up at ace, he's rubbing the back of his neck and he has a light blush dusting his cheeks.

"you meant to kiss me?"

"well i definitely planned on doing it in a more romantic setting but you just looked so pretty, i couldn't help it."

"well," you start. "the setting right now seems pretty romantic to me!"

you're sitting in a messy kitchen and ace has an apron on that says "blow the chef" but you think that there couldn't be a more romantic setting than where the two of you were.

[fourmoony]

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞

james potter x f!reader

fluff. 1.5k.

Summary: James brings home a baby. A baby that is not kidnapped.

part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - masterlist

...

James is standing in the doorway with a baby in his arms.

You’re so grateful he’s even there, that he’s made it back alive – albeit a little bloody and battered, glasses askew and his face covered in dirt – but alive nonetheless, that you don’t even notice the baby, bundled in a warm, fluffy blanket, wrapped safely in his arms. He’s bouncing his arms gently, probably trying to soothe the baby who’s making soft noises, and it’s really a sight to behold. It’s not until he steps through the doorway and gives you a nervous, lopsided smile that you fully register your boyfriend is holding a baby.

You blink. Once, twice. A third time.

James grows progressively more antsy. He chews his busted lip, winces, and then shifts back and forth on his feet. You have no idea where he could even have procured a baby. He’s been on an order mission for the past four days, scouting possible allies with the vampires whilst simultaneously moving important potions ingredients from one safe house to another, making sure the Death Eaters are always two steps behind order movements. Realistically, there’s been zero opportunity for James to come across a baby that he could just – take home.

“You’re home,” You breathe, because truly, that’s the most important part of the whole ordeal. James is here. He’s safe. He’s alive. Another mission down, and James has returned home. So, you’re glad. Grateful, unbelievably so. But also confused. Deeply confused.

“You have questions,” James is arguably calm about the situation, like he’d expected you to be eyeing him with hesitation – he was right – and he’s already rehearsed this in his head. “That’s normal.”

“Normal,” You repeat, the word tasting foreign on your tongue because nothing about this is normal. “Jamie, you’re holding a baby. Tell me we’re just like, babysitting, or something and you haven’t kidnapped someone’s child!”

James winces at your – albeit, quiet – yelling. The baby whimpers in his arms and immediately James shushes it, bouncing slightly on the spot with a desperate look in his eyes. He’s out of his depth, it’s obvious by the panicked way he’s looking between you and the baby, something pleading in his eyes.

“I didn’t kidnap her,” James argues childishly.

Okay, so, the baby is a girl. And James didn’t kidnap her. You turn and walk towards the kitchen, James follows, hot on your heels. The kitchen is a bit of a mess. There are your dishes from dinner, the bin is full, and there’s a couple of empty cartons for the recycling dotted on the counter closest to the back garden door. But James doesn’t flinch, he surveys his surroundings, but ultimately ignores the mess you’ve allowed to take over the small space in the days he’s been away.

“We were flying over Surrey when Marls spotted the dark mark over a muggle area,” James launches into explanation while you busy yourself with leaning over the sink and running the warm water. “We stopped to assess damage, but the Aurors were already there. Her family was killed, baby. The muggle government won’t touch the scene with a ten-foot pole – not that the baby had any other family, anyway, Alice already checked – and the Ministry won’t do anything except send her to an orphanage.”

The suds around your hands suddenly feel too much. The soup crusted around the side of your dinner bowl won’t come off and you scrub aggressively at it, focussing on that instead of the fact that your boyfriend has essentially just told you he’s informally adopted a child at random, without discussing it with you first.

Well, you know there was no time for him to discuss it. You can’t be mad at him for that. And, really, you can’t be angry at him, either, for bringing her to your home. She’s safe here. She’s already suffered an incredible amount of trauma, and she barely looks more than three months old. Your heart softens with your resolve, and you lift your head to look out of the window above the sink. The cottage you and James live in was a gift from his parents – a gift that had made you incredibly overwhelmed until you found out it had been under their ownership since before James was born, anyway – and has enough room for a swing set and a slide, maybe a trampoline. There’s a spare room, upstairs. Sirius will grumble about giving up his room for when he visits, but you’re sure he’ll get over it with some encouragement from Remus. The cottage is pretty much baby proof for James and Sirius’ sake, anyway. You have enough expendable income to completely kit out an emergency nursery necessary.

The argument isn’t really that you can’t afford to have a baby, or that you don’t have space for a baby. It’s that you’re nineteen, a year out of Hogwarts and in the middle of a war. Things are bad, times are scary, James is gone at least a week out of every month, you spend most of your days confined to the inside of a potions lab with Lily, making key potions that the Order need to work efficiently. You’re still kids yourselves, fighting a war that is taking everything from you.

But the way James is holding her like she’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen, rocking her, and cooing at her, you melt when you turn to face them, and it just feels – right, you suppose.

James looks up, smiles tentatively. You’ve always known he’ll be a great dad. He’s so full of light and love. When he loves, he loves with his entire heart. He loves dotingly and loyally. He’s so sure, standing there. Even though you can tell he’s trying to respect you, waiting to show his excitement until he knows how you feel, you can also see how much love he already has for this little girl, how sure he is that here, with him and with you, is the best place for her.

You take a step towards him, around the kitchen island, and hold your arms out wordlessly. He places her in your arms so gently and then watches as your eyes meet hers. They’re big and round and so blue you feel the breath hitch in your throat. She’s gorgeous. Big puffy cheeks and tufts of dark hair on her small little head. Her tiny lips are curved into a tired pout. You can’t help the smile that overcomes you. When your eyes lift – reluctantly – James is staring at you both. There’s something sickly sweet about the look in his eyes, warm like coffee, sweet like honey.

“We’re at war, Jamie,” You tell him, “Having a baby is a bad idea.”

James nods, “I know.”

A beat of silence passes. An understanding, maybe. It’s a bad time to be two nineteen-year-olds having a baby. But it’s there, in the way James looks at you. He’s never been one to have perfect timing. He asked you to be his girlfriend in the middle of an argument. He asked you to move in with him after school when the first Daily Prophet announcement about the war being confirmed happened. He’s brought a baby home out of nowhere, in the middle of said war. But it feels right. Holding her in your arms, James standing so close you can feel his warmth.

“What’s her name?” You ask, smiling sweetly at James.

He beams. He just – he beams. You know that he knows, then. You’re in. For better or worse.

“No idea. Alice had the muggle police contact the muggle social workers, who had no idea of anything about her. Bit of a mystery, really. But we get to keep her. Keep her safe, love her, raise her. So, I think it worked out. Is that bad?" James whips his head up, like his words surprised himself.

You chuckle lightly, "A little."

"What do you think we should name her?" You ask, eyes flitting back down to her. She's fallen over into sleep, blue irises gone from the world and you feel a tinge of sadness. You miss the bright blue of them, already. She's huffing softly, lips parted cutely. There's something magical about the way she's captured your heart in ten minutes flat. She might have magical powers, after all.

"Not sure. We can think on it. Our meeting with the ministry to officially adopt isn't until Monday." James speaks softly, in awe of the sight of you both.

You nod, "We better ring for Sirius and Remus, send them off for a cot, and then coax them into helping us build it."

You hand her over to James, he takes her, and then make for the phone. James stops you when he speaks, voice an amused whisper, lips pressed to her head, "They're already on their way."

"You knew I'd say yes."

"I knew you'd say yes. How could you not? Look at her." James is all honey voiced as he coos and holds the baby up for you to see and you melt.

She's the cutest thing you've ever seen. You're in awe. She's got your heart, well and truly. It's a strange feeling, to have such adoration for a human so small, who you've only just met. But you know you'll lay your life down to protect her. You'd do anything to make sure she's safe. She promises love, in the darkest time. You can already see the difference in James since returning home. He's lighter, full of smiles, gentle, happy. Usually, after missions, James is dark and brooding. He's filled with a darkness that only being a soldier can bring about.

James is looking at her so lovingly it makes you want to cry. She's happiness, and love. She's-

"Hope." You say, the ghost of a smile on your lips.

James looks up, brows furrowed, a question.

"Hope Potter." You affirm, tears in your eyes.

Your heart fills when James leans forward, presses a kiss to your lips, careful not to jostle Hope, "I love it. I love you."

"I love you. Both."

[spookwriter-xo]

Coppélia

Chapter 4 - The Piano Man

Chapter Summary - It's the night before Y/N is supposed to meet with Seonghwa and his partners, and a new visitor is waiting for her in her dressing room.

Series Masterlist

The nerves kicked in a lot earlier than I thought. The Friday night before I was supposed to meet Seonghwa and his partners, I felt unbelievably sick to my stomach. So much so that I genuinely thought I was going to throw up during the final bows.

I shuffled into my dressing room, hand rubbing my stomach as a pout adorned my features. A throat cleared from my right, causing me to jump in surprise. A tall man with dyed blond hair slowly pushed off his spot on the far wall.

"Sorry for scaring you." He says, his voice deep and gruff. I clear my throat.

"It's fine, just tired from the show," I say, offering him a smile. Another handsome guy coming to visit me? I really must be good.

"Seonghwa said we should come and watch, didn't understand why until now." He states and the smile fades. Seonghwa. He knew Seonghwa. "Oh! I'm Mingi." He says with an awkward smile, extending his hand before quickly retracting it and wiping the palm on his hands. He was nervous, in a cute way, which I found funny considering how intimidating he looked.

"You know Seonghwa?" I ask. I walked past him and towards my dresser where sure enough another bouquet of fresh Gardenias waited for me.

"Uh, yeah. He sent me to give you details about tomorrow night." He says, hesitating to follow me. I bit back a smile, already finding his presence endearing.

"So you're one of his assistants?" I ask, glancing up at him through the mirror. He looked too well dressed to be just an assistant, however I'd also expect ATZ Corps workers to be paid extremely well.

"No." He chuckles. "I'm a co-owner, like him. He just couldn't make it tonight so he sent me... Said you liked Gardenias so.." He mumbles the last part, scuffing his shoe on the carpet.

So he was one of the men who I'd be meeting with tomorrow, making that 3 I knew the faces of now. It felt refreshing to talk to him, then again it was the same with Seonghwa before he offered me that suspicious document. Was Mingi going to be the same?

"Uhm, miss? You okay?" Mingi asks, clearing his throat. My eyes widened as I turned to face him.

"Sorry! So, what were those details?" I ask, leaning back on the counter.

He thinks for a moment, like trying to order the details correctly in his head for a moment before nodding to himself in satisfaction.

"We'll be sending a car to your place at 6pm sharp, so be ready by then." He says. "We've booked a private room so it'll just be the nine of us."

"It's not expensive is it?" I cringe slightly, based on the place Seonghwa took me for our first date, I expected this dinner spot to cost more than all my furniture combined. Especially if there were private rooms to be booked.

"You don't need to worry about paying, we got that handled," Mingi says, offering me a toothy grin. I smiled back, however, my eyes didn't. Mingi looked at me for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry, about all this." He says, tilting his head down in semi-shame. Was this guy really apologizing? I didn't think any of them had that capability considering their upbringing. "I know it's a lot, and a few of us agree." He explains.

"It's just easier for us this way. We all have similar types and it's hard to date when you're in our line of work." He rambled. He was rambling, to me, in my dressing room about his and his partner's odd situation. I couldn't help but bite back a smile finding his boba-eyed expression cute.

"Mingi, it's okay," I say with a breathy laugh, he perks up at the sound.

"Really?" He asked.

"Yes, really."

He stared at me momentarily, studying to see if I was being genuine before clearing his throat and looking away.

"I should warn you, some of the guys are a little... High maintenance." He says moving across the room to look at the Gardenias tucked away in the corner of the room.

"High maintenance?" I question, turning to find my clothes to get changed.

"They like things done a specific way. May not like it that you're asking for a change." He explains. "Especially Captain." He chuckles before coughing. "I mean Hongjoong."

I nod, taking my folded clothes before heading towards the changing room.

"Would you like me to leave?" Mingi asks his figure stiffening. I shake my head.

"No, you're fine," I say, giving him a smile before closing the curtain to keep myself out of sight. I couldn't hear him move as I changed back into my normal clothes, which gave me a sinking feeling. A thought crossed my mind, was this really one of the owners of ATZ Corp? What if he was just a random guy? I shake that thought to the back of my head, pulling my shirt over my head before pulling the curtain back.

Mingi stood exactly where he was, his eyes on the curtain and face stern. I stare back at him for a moment before he perks up suddenly.

"Are you hungry?" He asks, offering me a smile. I think for a moment.

"A little," I answered, shoving the sick feeling in my stomach down. If he's paying, I'll go. Free food is free food.

"Cool! Uhm, I'll wait for you outside?" He asks, taking a big step towards the door. I nod and watch him as he leaves, shutting the door behind him quietly.

Mingi was odd. I figured that pretty fast. He seemed a bit shy, probably pushed to talk to me by Seonghwa himself. Did I hurt the man's pride by my phone call? Is that why he laughed? To hide his embarrassment? I smile to myself at the thought, rarely did I manage to do that.

I quickly pack away my things, preparing everything for Monday night show preparations before taking a deep breath. I walked towards the door, opening it to see Mingi leaning on the opposite wall, waiting patiently. His hands were in his pockets and yet again, he was staring blankly at the door. I give him a tight-lipped smile, closing the door behind me.

He pushes himself off the wall before falling into step beside me.

"Can I ask you something?" I ask him as the cold night air hits our faces. He hums positively in response, holding the door open for me before shoving his hands back into his pockets. "Have you guys done this before? Like dated one girl?"

"Once before." He answers, his eyes ahead.

"What happened?" I ask softly. "If it's alright me asking?"

Mingi hesitates for a moment before speaking. "Can I be honest with you?"

I blink in surprise, "Of course." I whisper.

"The rumors that you may have heard... About our company and how we may be involved in some darker stuff." He starts, his throat bobbing as he swallows nervously. "They aren't entirely false."

I stop in my tracks, staring up at him. "You're serious?" I question.

He just looks down at me, his gaze serious and unblinking. "I'm telling you this now before you get into something you can't get out of." He says. "Because trust me when I say, once you're in, there's no getting out."

My feet are frozen to the pavement as I feel a lump in my throat. "What type of dark stuff?" I ask, my eyes boring into his.

"Stuff I shouldn't tell you." He answers softly. His eyes lowered for a moment before he turned to continue walking. My feet scramble into gear as I start to follow him again.

"Why are you telling me this? Wouldn't you get into trouble?" I ask, trying to catch up to his long strides.

"Because I don't want what happened to her to happen to you." He answers. "If there's a chance for me to save you by warning you now, then I'll take it." He stops outside of a pizza parlor, holding the door open for me once again.

He doesn't order anything, waiting patiently before paying for my pizza, carrying the takeaway box for me, and walking me back to my apartment. The apartment complex was probably as old as my grandparents, in desperate need of repairs and touch-ups. Occasionally the hot water would turn off, which meant I'd have to travel from the 7th floor to the basement where more often than not a lot of sketchy things would go done. I swear it's haunted, which doesn't help with my anxiety.

Mingi stands outside the lobby, staring up at the old and dingy building before handing me the pizza box.

"I thought you had money?" He questions, eyes gazing up at the building. I snap my head to look at him and raise my eyebrow.

"How did you know that?" I ask, unlocking the lobby doors.

His ears go pink and he stutters for a moment. "We may have done some research." He murmurs, lowering his head.

I look him up and down for a moment before shaking my head. "Thanks for the food, and walking me home," I say, holding the lobby door open with my foot.

"Y/N?" He calls out quietly. "Think about what I said, please?" His voice was soft, pleading. His boba eyes stared into mine, searching for anything to soothe his worries.

I sigh, glancing back into the building before looking back at him. "I will," I say, before turning and walking inside.

I did think about what he said. I was up all night staring up at my ceiling. What happened to that other girl? Did she die? Why would Mingi feel so obligated to go out of his way and warn me, especially considering the others may not have even thought of doing the same.

I was a stranger to him. A woman that Seonghwa spoke of when he was home and nothing more. My mind would drift to what he said about a few of the others. Did some of them not agree with the contract? I guess it made sense that it was hard for them to all date, considering how large ATZ Corp is. Even with eight people running it, it seemed like so much work.

And then I'd think about the 'darker' stuff Mingi claimed they were involved in. I knew it was common, I'd seen my own father indulge in some unlawful intimidation for the sake of his company, but the way Mingi said it... It was like it was so much worse than that.

I managed to fall asleep at around 4am, waking up a little past lunchtime. A car would come to get me at 6pm, that's what Mingi said anyway. I didn't know what type of car, but I assumed it would be expensive.

I lazed around until 4:30 before I started to get ready. I found the dress I wore for expensive Society dinners. A black dress with off-the-shoulder sleeves and a slit of one leg. I wore it more often than I care to admit, considering it was my most expensive item of clothing. I fished out a pair of heels found my purse and waited.

Was I really doing this? Did I even have to go? What would they do if I didn't? At five to six I took the elevator down to the lobby and waited just inside the doors.

Just like clockwork, a limousine drives up outside and parks out front. The driver gets out and walks to the side facing the building and waits patiently with his hands folded behind him. I take a deep breath.

No going back now.

Thank you all so much for the love so far! More chapters are coming now that the MV is out (don't forget to stream!) and they'll start getting a bit longer.

taglist:

@bellaptv @arilevenatz @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @hecateslittlewitchling @neuviloved @monstacheol @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone

[i-smoke-chapstick]

Can I just have a small bit of headcanons or a Drabble on your pick of multi Gotham boys and their hands? Like I dunno if this is weird or not but kinda like just a dive down on what their hands feel like, who’s are soft and who’s are rough, who has vein hands, who has calloused hands. Just that kind of stuff please?🙏🤭🥺 (reason being of a specific hand edit I saw on tiktok 💀, also don’t feel obligated to do this if you don’t wanna. I completely understand.)

'FLESH, [hand! hcs]

-GOTHAM!VILLAINS X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Oswald Cobblepot, Victor Zsasz, Jonathan Crane

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; gotham villains and how they use their hands on reader ;)

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!villains x female reader. Not pure porn but smut. Suggestive. Might be the most vanilla thing i've written? but I love this request so much and I AM A SLUT for these men. Canon typical violence for Victor, Oswald getting a little rough ;)

𝛰𝑆𝑊𝐴𝐿𝐷 𝐶𝛰𝐵𝐵𝐿𝐸𝑃𝛰𝑇

♫ “This is just my way of unleashing the feelings deep inside of me.” Flesh by Simon Curtis

I know what you're thinking.

Oswald's hands? Out of every Gotham man I could've chosen???

YES. YES OSWALD'S HANDS. Have you seen this mans HANDS? Whether they are on a knife, or in those red gloves, or if he's leaning forward on them? All predatory like...

Not to mention...the VEINS. In almost every scene I've seen of this man? His hands are VEINY. Skinny bird man is not living up to that penguin stereotype, especially not in the earlier seasons.

God- just the way he stirs the wine glass or glass of brandy. Yeah. He's thinking and wishing it was your thighs he was holding, staring into the golden swirls.

The man has some issues with being nervous during sex, but when he lets loose he lets LOOSE. And he becomes feral, desperate, grinding and PAWING for every part of you he can kiss and hold and worship.

C'mon. We see the way he grips that cane of his. The way he holds the custom made knife. The way he gets his knuckles all bloody from hitting Fish or doing his own dirty work in season 1.

Also...going back to those red gloves of his. Could you imagine? Him making you grind yourself into the palm of his hand, watching you, mesmerized at the feeling of skin on leather.

He just wants to watch you writhe from pleasure. His little true love all needy for him and his hands. Gah.

He's so flustered, by the way, if you tell him you like his hands. He's sputtering, and asking why, but that little cheeky (and villainous mastermind) part of him is making a note to use them even more.

"You-," He says with a bit of an unbelieving smile, brows furrowed, voice wavering before his face turns to a look of complete shock, "You want me to what?"

Don't get him wrong, he's listening intently to your wishes, he just looks like he's seen a ghost at your vulgarity. He's not used to being wanted.

𝑉𝐼𝐶𝑇𝛰𝑅 𝑍𝑆𝐴𝑆𝑍

♫ “You can dominate the game 'cause I'm tough / This spark of black that I seem to love.” Flesh by Simon Curtis

This man might have the most iconic hands out of EVERYONE on this list.

I mean, c'mon now. When you think of leather-clad knuckle-less gloves, who do you think of?

The man, the myth, the legend himself. Victor Zsasz has the hands of a working man and he likes to use them.

These are the same hands he carries his guns in, the same trigger finger that will pump inside you while you mewl around him.

In all seriousness, though, he LOVES his hands too. They are his favorite part of his body. Without his hands, what would he be able to do? He's skilled with them. Pleasuring you with them is no different.

They are slightly calloused from the sharp edges of the guns he holds, but he's learned to use his gloves to protect them. Regardless, the old scars and marks from when he was just a boy playing with a tec-9 still remain.

Also, he canonically wears rings when we first see him in the show. Yeah, he's using that to his advantage.

You'll feel the cold metal as he drags a finger along your spine, watching you shiver. He'll do that lazy side-smirk, breathing heavily as he watches you arch up into him just from a touch.

Don't tell him you love his hands. Please, for the sake of the zsaszettes having to suffer a total EGO trip. He's taking it in stride.

But if you do happen to mention it...he's bragging about it.

Every time he gets complimented on a nice shot, he's bring you up.

I can imagine him holding someone hostage, whether its Jim or someone else. He notices them staring at the gun in his hand, full of fear, and he'll look flattered.

"Oh? Are you staring at my hands? Sorry, I'm taken." He's mentioning, off-hand, to the rando he's kidnapped. It doesn't matter if the hostage is a full on 50 year old man. "My girlfriend says she loves my hands. Y'know, life's work, and all that."

𝐽𝛰𝑁𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐴𝑁 𝐶𝑅𝐴𝑁𝐸

♫ “This is not the way into my heart, into my head. / Into my brain, into none of the above.” Flesh by Simon Curtis

Okay, maybe i’m just a monster fucker, but HEAR ME OUT!!

Uncut nails behind those talons of his on his costume. On or off.

Sometimes, he’ll be fully clothed, drawing scratch-marks into your skin, lowly humming in pleasure. That little spark of fear in your eyes when he draaaaaags down just right makes him go crazy.

He can’t help it. You’re his armeggedon, his muse, his savior all in one. The remedy to his madness…and you get all worked up from just a touch. It strokes his ego, like Victor, but he’s quieter about it.

Dirt beneath his fingernails, callouses and blisters from working with those damned poisons. He’s suffered a chemical burn or two, and you’ll see the small circle scars on his knuckles.

You’re like his personal test subject. He likes to study you- watch your expressions when he glides his nails down your skin, almost touching you- but not quite.

Surprisingly a tease when he finds out. He’s nonchalant. He won’t let you see the sheer arousal simmering beneath the surface.

But boy, it’s there. His heavy breathing. It affects him just as much as it effects you. The chill down your back, the shivers left in his wake. He takes his time edging playing with you.

You might need to ask him to cut them lowkey because they can be kinda painful when he’s fingering you. Or…if you’re into that little sting of pain while his tongue massages your clit through his mask.

He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s filthy.

“There you go, little mouse. You like it, don’t you?” He pauses, in thought, while you grind for friction like a cat in heat against his finger tips. “I wonder…where I should sink my claws into you next?”

That damned deep voice of his…the subtle curl of his fingers inside you. Before you know it, he’s pumping in and out, trying to elicit the most vulgar reactions from you. He can’t help it. For a man who prides himself on control…he looses it all when he’s with you.

[sillysowa]

NEEDY

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X FEM!READER

GENRE: SMUT

WORD COUNT: 1.7K

WARNINGS: FINGERING, ORAL (FEM RECEIVING), SLIGHT CHOKING, COCKWARMING

SYNOPSIS: HOBIE HELPS HIS OVULATING GIRLFRIEND

—

Hobie was a very observant lover, and he liked to know everything about you—including your menstrual cycle. He likes to have your preferred blood collection items handy incase you need an extra, he likes to know when he should be extra careful on how he treats you when you’re PMS-ing, taking you ever so slightly sweeter—but above all, he likes to know when you’re ovulating…so he can fuck your soul out without you even having to ask.

You were currently cuddled up to him with your head on his chest, watching a random movie in your bed while Hobie toyed with your hair absentmindedly. He was caught up thinking about how you were often very talkative when you’d watch movies, but you were rather quiet today. You kept balling his shirt up under your fist or pinching his clothes between your fingers—or more importantly, softly grinding on his thigh. Hobie knew you were ovulating right now, and he knew that made you incredibly horny all the time, but it also made you so damn fun to mess with.

“What’s on your mind, love?” Hobie’s deep velvety voice penetrated your thoughts as he stared down at the way your fingers traced over his covered chest. His large hand rested on the juncture above your slightly moving hip, holding you close while you hummed,

“Mmm~ Nothing.” You answered quickly, cheek squished against his pec and eyes clouded over.

“I don’t know if I believe you.” Hobie says dismissively, rubbing his hand on your waist, smirking when that slightly catches your attention, your eyes locked on his through your lashes,

“Yeah? And why is that?” You ask, genuinely lost in your fantasy world. You had been daydreaming of Hobie’s cock pumping inside you with his lips on your neck. You craved the feeling of his bare skin, warm and soft on your longing body. You’d kill to pull his boxers down and kiss up and down his length right now, but you felt so strangely nervous.

“Cause you’ve been weakly humping my leg for about 15 minutes now.” He whispers, voice dropping an octave and making your insides squeeze. Your face instantly felt warm—you didn’t realize that in your daydreaming you had started to dry hump your boyfriend. You turned your face fully into his chest and hid it, while he pulled you unbelievably closer,

“Don’t get all shy on me, sweets. If you want me you know you only have to say the word.” He teased, bringing his hand to your chin and gently turning your face up towards his. The soft look in your eyes and steady desperate movement of your hips on his thigh drove him crazy. You whined, glossy eyes flickering from his lips to his eyes,

“Hobie~”

“Yeah I know baby.” He murmurs, leaning down and capturing your lips in a heated kiss. He kisses you with passion, grunting and helping you onto your back. One of his hands reaches up to hold onto the headboard while the other holds your jaw, deepening the kiss with your legs opening for him. Hobie breaks the kiss, his large ring covered fingers wandering down towards your neck,

“Is my girl ovulating? Extra needy these past few days.” Hobie smirks, hardening at the sight of your confusion,

“W-How did you know?” You ask through half lidded eyes and pinched brows. Your feet lazily kick on the bed, heels dragging up and down the sheets in desperation. Your pussy throbs.

“I like to know what’s going on with this pretty body of yours.” He says casually, kissing your forehead before he starts removing your shorts. He slides them down your legs and tosses them, fingers exploring your soaked cunt. He moans at the feeling of your arousal, sucking two of his fingers into his mouth before sliding them into you. You moan out desperately, and Hobie instantly notices how tight you feel. He thrusts his fingers at a steady pace, a white ring instantly forming at the base of his fingers where his silver jewelry resides. You’re way more reactive than he’s used to seeing, arching off the bed and clutching at the sheets. His dick is painfully hard in his boxers, but he refuses to pay it any mind until he’s made you cum. He quickens his pace, deep eyes boring into yours from between your legs and forcing your thighs to stay open with his large palm. Your face feels like it’s on fire, and you’re embarrassed to admit that you feel like your about to cum already,

“Hobie~ Ah! H-I’m close~ Mm~”

“Come on love, just like that cum for me, let it out baby, good girl~” Hobie praises with a rasp in his voice. He watches you as you orgasm, bliss coating your features and your fun dripping down from your pussy. He can’t help himself as he leans in, sucking it all up. He lets out a surprised and muffled groan when he feels your hands on his head, pushing his face hard against your cunt. His beautiful eyes flutter closed as he lets you use his warm mouth.

You uncontrollably moan at the sight of your lover’s face pressed against your pussy, only his eyes visible as they roll into the back of his head at your taste. You fuck his face like your life depends on it, crying at the friction of his lips, tongue and nose on your throbbing sex. You momentarily wonder if he can breathe, but all of your worries go out the window when his lips lock around your clit, sucking it like a candy. He grabs your inner thighs, pushing them open and pinning them down while he eats you like he’s been starved of your taste his entire life. Your cries of his name, hands on the back of his head, and broken sounding moans fuel him and his tongue moved faster than you’ve ever felt.

“Hobie~ Hobie! Ah~ Oh yes~ yesyesyesyes-“ You mumble and whine, your fingers gripping onto his hair as you near your unexpected second orgasm. Hobie just grunts and whines at the feeling of being used, his hips grinding into the bed while you moan. He eats you out with passion right up until you cum, when your hands desperately pull him off of you in overstimulation. His face is glistening, mouth parted and chest rising. He smiled,

“Feelin’ good?” He kissed your thigh, locking his fingers in yours. You nodded with your parted lips and pretty fucked-out face—Hobie couldn’t get over how gorgeous you looked…so desperate and needy for him. He loved that his fingers and face could make you feel that good, caught on the way you leaked with your own thick cum,

“I know you’ve cum twice now, love, but you can give me another one cant you?” Hobie asked through his thick accent, eyes half lidded while he talked to you but stared at your leaking cunt, gently running his fingers over it and eating up the way you whimper for him.

“Yes, Hobie…just…give me your cock please~ Please fuck me~” You beg, pussy throbbing and eyes watering. You felt horribly empty without Hobie filling you up, and your mouth watered at the bulge in his boxers. He chuckled darkly before reaching down and pulling his long, hard, cock out of his boxers. He wasted no time, stripping nude for you, spreading your legs wide, and lining himself up with your entrance.

“Scream for me, love.” Is all you get before he thrusts into you in one motion, and oh do you scream. Hobie’s dick filling you up punches the air out of your lungs and a noise that comes out you didn’t even know you could possibly make. You clawed at his back, cried out his name, and your cunt squeezed around his cock. You knew sex felt better when you were ovulating, and Hobie knew just as well,

“You like that? You fuckin’ like that? Mmm of course you do—so fucking needy f’me isn’t that right?” He grunts, thrusting his hips against yours like a madman, horny and desperate at the look of his girl so helpless and overstimulated under him. Hobie loved to see you a wreck for him, he’d kill for it if he had to—the sight of your wet cunt sucking him in, the sound of the bed creaking and your skin slapping—it was music to his ears.

He gives your neck a couple squeezes, right in that sweet spot that makes you feel dizzy but oh so good, his other hand on your hip for leverage as he destroys your insides. Hobie slows down for a moment, thrusts hard but slow to hear your pleased whimpers and bask in them,

“Hobie please!~ Im so close! Please! Faster~ Mmm~ You feel so good inside me, Hobie!” You cried, tears brimming down your cheeks as he thrusted into you, hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars. You could have sworn you saw the pearly gates from the drag of his cock in you, the sight of his beautiful body on top of you, and the absolute filth that he whispered in your ear as you neared your orgasm,

“I know, love, I know. Cum for me, I know you can.” He grunts in your ear, kissing at your neck and fisting his hands tight into the pillow under your head as he fucks into you with fervor, dying to feel you cum around his cock. You hold him close, ankles locked around him and nails dragging down his back as your walls clench and you orgasm. He brings you to cloud nine and back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear while you cry and mumble about how good it feels. He delivers a couple more messy thrusts in you before he cums, his cock twitching and moans spilling from his lips. He looks beautiful and feels like a dream. Hobie looks down at you as he starts to pull out, the glossy look in your eyes a tell-tale sign that you’re still deep in sub-space and needy for him,

“Hobie don’t leave~” You whine, pulling him closer and feeling his cock push impossibly deeper inside you as he relaxes and eases onto his side next to you. Hobie smiles at your words,

“I wasn’t going anywhere!” A chuckle leaves his lips,

“You know what I mean Hobie, I want you to keep it in.” You confess, holding him close, that shyness from earlier back. He just smirks devilishly, not opposed to the idea at all,

“I’ve got no problem with that, love, just don’t be too shocked if I get a sudden cravin’ for a round two.”

Spoiler alert, there was way more than a round two.

[rimunagenius]

Good Game

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x Cheerleader!reader

ʚ word count: 1.3k words

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , otherwise none.

ʚ request: anon ask; “are you down to make a kate martin x cheerleader reader?”

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: here’s another request! i love that you guys are sending requests, and i’m glad that i’m the one you’re choosing to ask to write them! thank you so much for liking what i write, truly unbelievable. Also, I’m making my way through my inbox so from now on, my fics will most likely be request, so feel free to drop some more, but also, please be patient as i continue to do so! enjoy!

"Good job, Martin!" You yelled at you waved your pom poms infront of you, engaging in your cheer, but looking to the side as the Iowa women's basketball team ran down the tunnel for half time.

You gave her the biggest smile, getting one in return. "Thank you!" She grabbed a cup of water and ran down the tunnel following her teammates.

Usually that's how all of your interactions went. A 'good job' or 'you're doing great' here and there. Kate was your favorite on the team. She was tall, pretty, kind, and really damn good at playing ball. What's there not to like about her? You always mentioned her to your cheer friends; they evolved to trying to start up conversations with Kate and bring you into it.

It helped that one of your bestfriends was on the basketball team, too. You and Kylie met on your first day at Iowa University. You two have been inseparable since then.

So every game, you'd get to just a little bit early, hitching a ride with Kylie, and she knew full well why you did it. There was the off chance that you'd talk to Kate. They normally had shoot around, and the cheer team would get there just a half hour later to start warm ups and make sure the music was working.

You valued your time before every home game. That's why Kylie made sure to make you bump into Kate on your way into the big game tonight.

"Hey, Kate!" Kylie shouted to the blonde ahead. She turned around, her long blonde hair twisting as she turned to look at you and Kylie.

"Hey! Oh, Hi!" Kate greeted her teammate, and then greeting you, with a side hug. She was much taller this close than from the sideline to baseline view. Your knees were weak.

"Hey! You excited for tonight?" You beamed, you were also excited for tonight. The big Iowa vs. UConn game for the final four spot.

"Yeah, super. Your cheering tonight?" Kate knew the answer, she just didn't know what to say because you made her nervous. You could tell by the way her cheeks reddened immediately after asking.

"Yeah, I am. That's why I came with Kylie." You turned to point to your friend, only to find she left. You look up ahead and see her walking with Sydney down the hall towards the lockerroom. "Oh, nice." You whispered as you turned back to Kate.

Your cheeks turning pink just by the sheer height difference. "Nice, you're gonna cheer for me right? Your favorite on the team obviously." She bumped your shoulder, making you laugh.

"I will cheer for you, but only out of obligation. Y'know, I didn't get a full ride for nothing." Your sarcasm eliciting a small giggle from the tall blonde.

"Haha, very funny." Kate looked ahead, catching Kylie peak her head out of the lockerroom doorway, immediately blushing harder.

"Kylie's actually my favorite, but i'll make an acception for the cute golden retriever." You smiled up at Kate, tossing a small strand of hair up playfully, her smile widening some more.

"Yay, the cute cheerleader loves me." She bumped your shoulder again, both of you walking into the lockerroom like big grinning idiots. Kylie definitely texts you after you walk out with your headphones she had in her bag, asking how it went.

You walked onto the court, a couple of your teammates here already, smiling at your phone while you told Kylie what happened. You then didn't fail to talk about it all the way until the girls started warms ups. You didn't want to get caught talking about a minor interaction between your literal crush.

"Wait, stop. I think Kate likes you, babe." Your teammate literally stopped you dead in your tracks. You didn't know if you heard that correctly. You hoped you did.

"No, stop it. No she doesn't." You looked over, and sure enough Kate had been looking at you. You both gave eachother a small smile before resuming to your respective duties.

"Girl, she's been looking over here every thirty seconds. Of course she likes you." You smiled softly, thanking the cheer gods that your uniform looked so good on you. Seriously, you were glad you were confident enough to strike up a conversation. She was so pretty you didn't think you'd be able to do it.

"Okay, stop telling me that or that's all i'll think about all night, and I don't want to forget our cheers. Especially the half time performance." You sighed as you walked off the court, to do stationary stretches, while the girls used the full court to do warm up drills.

Now it was your turn to stare. You watched her as she moved in sync with her team. Fully enamored by the way she moved, communicated, and played with her team.

During the game, was no different. You’d watch her play, literally just watched her. Something about her was just so intriguing. You couldn’t look away.

She’d look to you, smile and continue to play her game. She would try and hide the smile when she heard you scream ‘let’s go 20’ and hasn’t stopped thinking about it. She thought about it all the way through the second half, and completely into half time.

She wished she could watch the halftime performance, wanting to watch you do your thing, in that pretty uniform, the skirt that fit you perfectly. You two had seemed to be totally enamored with eachother it was driving you both nuts.

After the game, the team went into the tunnel, for the normal post game talk. You were nervous to sit in, Coach Bluder allowing you to sit and listen since Kylie was your ride and you were just minding your own business. The lockerroom was fairly big, you finding a spot infront of a locker, scrolling through tiktok with your headphones on. You hadn’t known the huddle was over until someone was approaching you.

Looking up, you met the perfect blue eyes yet again. You looked up and saw you were sitting at her locker. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll just—“ You started talking and got up when she had already reached for her towel on the top shelf. Your bodies were pressed against eachother, eyes looking into the others, your breath mixing together.

“Oh..uh. Sorry!” Kate said, sidestepping to let you pass. Both your cheeks were red and demeanor suddenly timid and bashful. The things you two did to eachother.

You neeed her number.

She needed your number.

You then stood by Kylie’s locker, waiting for her to finish up, her opting to shower at her home, and then before walking out, you turned around and walked up to Kate. You didn’t know if it was the confidence of Iowa winning the game, the adrenaline running super high. But either way, you were doing it.

It was now or never. You liked her, and wanted to talk to her longer than short conversations before and after games. Getting closer, you tapped her on her shoulder. Her eyes wide, a soft puppy look on her face, god your knees were weak. “Hey!” She smiled as she put her basketball shoes in her bag, sliding her feet into her slides.

“Hey! So, you can totally say no, but I wanted to know if I could get your number?” You smiled nervously at the blonde, her smile growing wider.

“Yeah, of course. Here.” She handed you her phone, letting you type in your number, sending a quick text so you could save her number in your phone. Feeling your phone vibrate, you thank her and handed her her phone back.

Her now standing infront of you, you decided to kiss her cheek. Her face immediately turning a light shade of red. She rubbed the back of her neck softly, before looking down at her feet and then back up to you.

“Good game tonight, Martin.” You turned heel, and walked out the door leaving her absolutely stunned. She could not wait to text you tonight.