#thank you again for saying such kind things

[miihho]

can do headcannons for Myung-gi? Thank you 😭😭

THE KIND OF GUY

(squid game edition boys) sfw

Myung-gi / Player 333

—HE'S THE KIND OF GUY who found himself in fights more often than he’d like to admit. His past was a tangled mess of mistakes and choices that led him down this path. Most times, when he was beaten down, no one cared enough to stop. They’d walk by, eyes averted, pretending not to see him lying there, bruised and exhausted. The pain was familiar, but it was something he had learned to endure alone. So when he found himself on the ground once again, bloodied and sore, he didn’t expect anything to change. He didn’t expect someone to stop and help.

But then, through the blur of his vision, he saw you. Standing there, glowing like something out of a dream, your eyes full of concern. “Are you alright?” you asked, your voice soft, but it was filled with genuine concern. He blinked, shaking his head as if to clear the daze.

“Yeah…” he muttered, wincing slightly as he grabbed your hand and tried to stand. “It didn’t hurt that much.” He forced a weak smile, brushing the dust off his clothes, but his body was screaming from the blows he’d taken. You didn’t look convinced, your eyes scanning him with a frown. “You have bruises everywhere,” you said softly, taking in the sight of his battered form. “You need help, can i treat you?"

He wanted to refuse. He wanted to push you away and tell you it wasn’t worth it, that he was just someone who always ended up in situations like this. But your steady gaze stopped him. He nodded, letting you lead him away from the scene, knowing this would probably be the first time someone would care enough to make sure he wasn’t left to bleed out in a corner.He didn’t expect much—just a quick fix for the bruises. But as you carefully cleaned his cuts and bruises, your touch gentle and your voice soft, something inside him shifted.

The way you didn’t rush, the way you took your time, treating him with more care than anyone ever had, started to break down the walls he’d built around himself. His body still ached, but there was a warmth in his chest, a quiet comfort he hadn’t felt in years. He wasn’t falling in love with you right away. But in that moment, as you tended to his wounds and your eyes met his, something began to grow, slowly and quietly—an unfamiliar feeling, one that made him want to stay just a little longer.

—He’s the type of guy who keeps a distance from everyone, always a little cold, a little aloof, because it’s easier that way. He’s learned to build walls around himself, to guard his emotions, keeping people at arm’s length so he won’t get hurt. It’s become second nature—familiar and safe. But when it comes to you, everything shifts. You become the exception to the rules, the one who manages to break through the armor he’s so carefully crafted.

In your presence, the ice that’s kept him safe for so long begins to melt. The walls that once seemed impenetrable start to crumble, piece by piece, as he finds himself opening up in ways he never thought possible. It’s a vulnerability he’s not used to, one that both terrifies and comforts him in equal measure. For the first time, he doesn’t have to pretend. With you, he can just be. And it’s that warmth, that quiet shift in his soul, that makes him realize—maybe letting you in wasn’t as frightening as he once thought.

—He's type of guy who’d get nervous around you, never having interacted with a girl properly before. This whole thing was new to him. He would rehearse a simple greeting in front of the mirror, repeatedly stumbling over his words.

"Hello, nice to meet you again," he'd say, practicing until it felt right.

But the moment he saw you, standing there, his mind went blank. Flustered, he blurted out, "Meet hello again."

His face flushed red with embarrassment, and without a word, he quickly walked off, leaving you laughing softly at his awkward charm.

—Hes the kind of guy who would drop to his knees with tear-streaked cheeks, begging for another chance. The kind of guy who would plead, his voice trembling with desperation, asking you to take him back.

— He’s the kind of guy who melts under your touch, leaning into the soft strokes of your fingers as they weave through his hair. With you perched on his lap, his arms wrapped securely around your waist, he looks up at you as if you’re the only thing that matters in the world. His eyes, brimming with warmth, trace every feature of your face, and his smile—soft, tender, overflowing with affection—speaks the words his heart can’t contain. To him, this moment is everything: your closeness, your comfort, the quiet intimacy of being held by the one he loves.

—He’s the kind of guy who would drop everything at a moment’s notice just to make you happy. If you told him you wanted your favorite food, he wouldn’t just order it—he’d make sure it came from the best place, double-checking the details so it’s exactly how you like it. If you said you wanted something more, he’d move mountains to find it, his every action steeped in quiet devotion.

—He’s the kind of guy who would hold your bag without hesitation, tie your shoelaces if they came undone, and memorize all the little things that make you smile. If you said you were cold, he’d wrap his jacket around you without a second thought, even if he ended up freezing. If you called him in the middle of the night, needing someone to talk to, he’d show up at your door, no matter how far or inconvenient it was. If you mentioned something you like, he’d make a mental note and surprise you with it later, just to see the joy in your eyes. He’d stay up late if you needed him, wake up early to make your mornings easier, and cancel his own plans just to be there when you need him most.

For him, your happiness is worth everything. He doesn’t just listen to your words—he treasures them, acting on them like they’re his life’s purpose, because loving you isn’t a chore; it’s his greatest joy.

—He’s the kind of guy who pays attention to the tiniest details about you. Like the songs you hum when you’re happy, the exact shade of your favorite color. He remembers your birthday without needing a reminder, but he also knows the little anniversaries you don’t expect him to, like the day you first met or the first time you smiled at him in that special way.

He’d go out of his way to buy you things that match your favorite color—not just big gifts but the little ones, like a keychain he spotted at the store or a pen because he remembered you needed one. He’d surprise you with your favorite snacks on bad days and bring you flowers that match the hues you love, just to see your face light up.

—He’s the kind of guy who listens intently when you talk, even if it’s about something small, and he brings it up later to let you know he was paying attention. He’d notice when you’re feeling off, even if you try to hide it, and he’d do whatever it takes to make you feel better—whether it’s running to get your comfort food, wrapping you in a blanket, or just holding you until the world feels a little less overwhelming.

To him, it’s the small things that matter most because those details are what make you you, and he wants to love every single one of them.

—He's the kind of guy who stumbles over his words when you get too close, as if your presence is too much for him to handle. You don't realize how his heart races, a frantic rhythm he can't control, every beat echoing the weight of your nearness. He tries to pull away, but it's impossible—you're the only thing that makes him feel alive.

—He's kind of guy who would stay away from you for months, not because he wanted to, but because he believed it was for your safety. He worried endlessly that if anyone saw you with him, they’d make you a target—hurt you just to get to him. The thought of putting you in danger was unbearable, so he chose the distance, even if it tore him apart inside.

—Myung gi is the kind of guy who’d make you believe he has pure intentions, but the truth is far darker. He wants you all to himself—every moment of every day, your laughter, your smile, your touch. It's all his in his mind. The thought of anyone else having even a fraction of you fills him with jealousy, and he’ll do anything to keep it that way. You’re his everything, and in his eyes, no one else deserves a piece of you.

—He’s the kind if guy who secretly craves being treated like a precious little one, wanting to be praised for being good, his heart swelling at every word of affection you give him. When you look at him with that soft, loving gaze, calling him "baby" and showering him with overly sweet pet names, something inside him melts. It's not just the words, it's the way you care for him—like he's fragile, like he’s yours to protect. He acts tough on the outside, but deep down, he’s soft for you. Your attention, your affection—it’s everything to him, and he’s more than willing to be the one who melts under your love. He’d give anything to hear you speak to him like that forever.

(he's so IWBWIWHWIWJ😭😭☹️👊🏻)

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

We meet again | In-ho x Fem!Reader | PT2

Summary: It was only one night for fun, you never thought you would see him again. Even less in a place like this one.

PT1

Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Canon violence - Pregnant!Reader - Non canon background for In-ho - Use of (Y/N) - Angst - Protective!In-ho - Jung-Bae votes X because I say so -

Sleep came hard for you, after Gi-hun told the rest that players attacked each other last time, when the lights went off it only made you worried more.

It did not help that after the akward exchange In-ho decided to join the group, even if he used that time to also taunt Gi-hun (at least in your opinion), he gave you space and you mentally thanked him.

Jun-hee pierced him with a look only a woman could give, it was like she doubt him and also, she was sure he was in fact the father of your baby, which only made things worse.

During the night your bed shifted when another body took a seat, you moved quickly going to call for help but a hand covered your mouth.

The stoic look from In-ho met you in the dark, even if he was not putting a lot of pressure on your mouth. You did not like it.

You removed his hand and went to lie again, giving him your back but he was determined to talk to you.

"You dont need to talk to me, I just came to make sure you two were safe" He started, you could not see it but his eyes were full of adoration towards you and your belly. "I dont think others will attack us but I still needed to be besides you, if you let me"

You did not give him a response, letting your mind wonder over the dangers that could come, you felt him starting to move, most likely to go but your hand took his.

"Stay" After a small pause you added "Please"

And he was more than happy to oblige.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

The morning came faster than what you wanted. The bed was uncomfortable to say the least, and most part of the night you were cold.

A centrain warm had woke you up but a quick "shh" made you go back to sleep.

You now noticed a extra blanket over you.

"(Y/N), how did you sleep?" Jun-hee asked, she looked like she needed more sleep.

"As best as someone can with this beds" You said knocking on the bed making her let out a small smile.

"Looks like someone is watching over you" She said pointing at the extra blanket.

You made a face at it but nodded, if it was better for the baby then you would allow it.

"We can share it tonight if you want" You offered her who smiled and bowed thanking you.

"Attention players, we will now start the next game. Form a line a follow one guard to the next area" The voice of a Guard filled the room making you nervous to see what was going to happen.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"This things does not get easier" You whispered to yourself as you claimed the maze of stairs, you had to admit the colors were cute but the energy you needed for them was not something you were looking to use.

What if it was another game with running ? You would need your energy for it. You could not waste it on these dam stairs.

In-ho had positioned himself in front on you and would look back to make sure you were following.

"You can use my shoulder if you need help" He said stopping and almost making Dae-ho hit your back, but he was keeping a distance in case you needed to rest.

"Im fine" You said between hard breaths going to walk again on your own only to feel In-ho's hands around you, making you lean on him so you would use less energy and tired yourself less.

"I dont remember you being such a complicated woman" He whispered to you, making sure no one could listen.

"Well I dont expect you to remember most, we were drunk when we left.."

But In-ho moved his head with a small smile "Trust me, I remember most of it. Our conversation at the bar and the events after we left. I havent been able to stop thinking of these"

A shiver ran down your spine but you ignored it.

"Well I dont believe you, tell me something specific i said that night" You kind of demanded him

"You said how you loved the town, loved seeing the same faces, there was a older woman who lived two blocks from you. She would gift you milk and eggs. You liked seeing the kids play after school and would even take care of some when their parents had to leave for work. You loved that town"

You got quiet, it was true. You had said that, and it was true, you did love the town and its peopel, thats why you had to leave, to protect them.

"Alright, I will admit im impressed" You responded leaving out a small smile "You do have good memory" You noted

"For you ? Yes, yes I do"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"The next game will be a race of six-legs, players please form teams of five, since we have a odd number one team will have six players in it"

The voice announced

"Could they dont think on doing a different game?" Jung-Bae asked the rest of you "I mean, no hard feelings but would it not be more complicated with one more?"

Gi-hun not so discreetly gave him a hit on his side "Shut up we are six" He said and Jung-Bae blushed in shame. 

"Sorry! I did not mean to say it like that"

"Its fine" In-ho said calming him down "We get it, it may be difficult but we can do it, we have our ex winner with us"

Gi-hun scratched his hair "We did not play this last time, im as lost as all of you" He admitted

"Wow must suck to be you!" The voice of player made all of you look, Player 009 a young male said "Not only are you six but you also have two pregnant woman, talk about bad luck. With the six of you out the price will go up in no time. Well if they count the babys then maybe even more"

Out of instinct your hand went over your belly and the other took the hand of Jun-hee who looked as scared as you.

In-ho took some calculated steps towards the player who seemed to get pale when he finally undertood who he was, the same guy who had break a fight last night with no sweat.

"Hey, why dont you lose yourself like a small rat? And im being unfair to rats to compare them to you" He said tone cold and out of emotion.

The player lost himself in the crowd not wanting to face In-ho.

Butterflies flew in your stomach at his words, even if he was not defending you directly, his protective side made you blush and almost smile.

Almost. You had to supress it since Jun-hee was looking at you like she knew something.

"Well, we should see how we will line ourselfs" Gi-hun said making all of you form a circle, "(Y/N) and Jun-hee will need help so-"

"I can walk fine" Jun-hee interrumped him "I can go in one of the corners, (Y/N) will need more help"

Gi-hun nodded at her "Then, you, Jung-Bae will be next, Dae-ho, (Y/N), In-ho and myself" He ended watching all of you "Does it sound good to everybody"

Before you could protest the voice spooke again

"We will be playing a race of six legs, in order to advance you must complete the following games within five minutes and cross the line. If you dont you will be eliminated"

"Games...what games" You asked to no one as the voice went on

"The games you must complete are ddakji, biseokchigi, gong-gi, jegi, and spinning top, please choose among yourself who will play which game"

"Wait, that means one of us wont have to play" Dae-ho pointed out and all nodded.

"(Y/N) You should stay out of the mini games and focus on following the rest of us" Gi-hun suggested looking at you.

You bited your lower lip, you felt like a burden to them, no only being a extra player but also not being able to play with them.

"No, I can play. If there is a game any of you feel less confident in..."

"I agree with Gi-hun" In-ho interrumped you. "It was difficult for you to claim the stairs, its better if you focus on one thing at time"

"No, that was a bad moment, I can-"

"I also agree" Dae-ho cut you off "I have sisters and saw them pregnant before, its better if you dont move to much or stress"

"Jun-hee its pregnant too and I dont see any of you worried" You said almost screaming

"(Y/N) im less pregnant than you...and I saw it too. You had problems with the stairs, dont worry over me, I can do it"

"Think in your baby" In-ho whispered "Think in our baby" He added in a lowered tone.

"Fine, thanks for your help guys" You said truly grateful.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

The first two teams did not make it

You closed your eyes refusing to look at the dead bodies.

The first team that made it had all of you screaming for them, you even hugged In-ho without noticing.

However he did and hugged you with subtle force, using that chance to touch your belly on its side.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"Remember, focus on breathing and follow us, you can do it" In-ho said to you as your team and other one were the last two to play

"If you need to rest just support yourself on me or In-ho" Dae-ho added giving you a encouraging smile.

And like that the race started.

Jun-hee won easily the ddakji, Jung-Bae nailed it hitting the rock on first try.

When it came to Dae-ho's turn all of them made sure that both you and Jun-hee moved onto the floor slowly.

Your heart was beating fast as you saw Dae'ho play, even if this game was one girls used to play you were never good with it. In fact no one of your young friends used to be.

So your suprise was big and more was your happiness as you saw him complete it on first try.

The six of you advanced, the guard went to give you the spinning top but In-ho took it instead. You swear you saw the guard flinch under his dark stare.

Everybody was hyping him, even you, after all you all got three games in a row nothing could-

And he failed. All of you moved so he could do it again.

Only to trow it towards yours back.

After getting it back he started to have an episode, no wonder feeling nervous because of how much time he was making all of you lose.

"Hey! IN-HO!! Calm down just breath, try with your other hand, we still have time" You said pulling him towards you.

Something flicker in his eyes but you could not understand what it was.

He did as you told him and finally he passed.

The last game was in the hands (or feets) of Gi-hun who almost loses but In-ho's quick thinking saved all of you making your team pass and cross the line.

The celebration was short lived as gunshots were hear, the other team did not make it.

"Its ok, you two are safe" In-ho whispered to you once more before a guard started to take all of you back.

However the place seemed...different ? And by different you mean almost no stairs, did the guards suddendly get a heart ? You would not question it, like you Jun-hee was grateful and smiled at you once you two made it into the room.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"Cant believe these survived" 009 said with a frown not beliving it.

If the price had a chance on going up it was with the dead of either you or Jun-hee.

"Congratulations on winning this game, we will now calculate the price and proceed on voting"

"I hope we win this time" You told Jun-hee who nodded alongside you.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"We should use the restroom now that we have a chance" You told Jun-hee who accepted and so both of you left your male companions who themselfs went to their own restroom.

"I cant believe we lost again" You said hitting the door of the stall getting some looks from other circle players but no one said a thing. Maybe they pity you because of your pregnancy but not enough to end the dam games.

"Dont stress too much" Jun-hee tried to comfort you even if herself was scared.

You took some deep breaths to try and calm yourself down, thinking in your baby.

I can do it. I can play again, I must play again.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

The six of you reunited once again waiting for the terrible food the guards would most likely give.

"Hey Dae-ho, how were you able to win on first try?" Jung-Bae asked trying to ease the tension since all of you had bothed X

"Well, as I said I grow up with four sisters. And they would play it all the time so I ended up learning a few tricks" He commented

The small talk went towards different topics, nothing too personal just something to pass the time.

You were between Jun-hee and In-ho who had sit closer to you but you did not mind and even invited him to move closer.

"I wish the food its not as bad as the one from last night" You said getting a groan from Jung-Bae

"I miss my meat, I would kill for one piece of well coked meat" When all of you just looked at him he muttered "Sorry bad wording"

"I would love some cake, maybe chocolate cake and...popcorn" You said rubbing your belly

"Its that what they call cravings?" Jung-Bae asked, even if his ex wife was once pregnant he did not really remember much of her time with it.

"Yeah, this is not the worse one" You laughted making In-ho softly smile besides you.

"What was the worse one?" Dae-ho asked curious

"One night at 2 a.m. I woke up crying, I asked my roomate to get me squid and ice cream, she went to the store bless her heart but then I asked her if she could mix it all"

The horror from their faces was priceless.

"I havent had any weird craving" Jun-hee said smiling at your story "They better start once we are out of here"

"Your roomate sounds like a good person" In-ho commented, he was glad you had someone to rely on while he was away and did not know about your pregnancy, he would have loved to be the one to get waked up by you to make him go and buy you different types of food.

"She was" You agreed "She saw me having a hard time and offered me a place to stay so we could divide rent. Thanks to her I was able to get better food. Saddly she had to leave Seoul because her sister needed her"

In-ho was now confused. Seoul? What were you doing in Seoul? Were you not a local in that town? Why did you move? Even when you knew you were pregnant?

He had so many questions but would have to wait till a better moment.

"Players, we will now start serving dinner" A guard say, all of the players went to get in line.

As you waited In-ho stood behind you and used that time to talk to you

"Why were you in Seoul?" He asked confused and worried.

You turned a bit towards him, not wanting everybody to hear your talk "My brother left a debt, escaped the country, and since im the only blood relative alive it fell on me" You explained him. "I would have loved to raise my kid in that town, but the load sharks did track me down and said they would made the town suffer if I did not make monthly pays. I could not put them in danger so I left"

In-ho was furious, not only were you forced to face such a hard time alone. Your excuse of a brother left a debt on you, not caring what your situation was.

You must have been so scared, sad, no women deserves to go by a special time like pregnancy like that.

He was also furious with himself. He should have acted faster and track you down, he would have know sooner you were pregnant and would have make things different. He would have payed that debt, making sure you were well assisted and not lifting a finger, only resting like you deserved.

The guilt was eating him alive.

"Im sorry, I should have been there" He said and for once in the two days that had passed his voice was full of sincerity and vulnerability "Im really sorry (Y/N) you should not have to go by that"

You did not say a thing back, trying to stop the tears that wanted to fall.

"I managed, and its not your fault. I was angry at your for sometime but then I just stopped being angry. It was bad luck"

"It was also back luck that you got yourself pregnant?" He asked now a bit worried about what you thought of it.

You stopped and turned completly to face him.

"No. That was not bad luck at all. Yeah I would have loved to have someone besides me...to have you with me" His heart fell at your words, his mind racing with ideas on how to protect you in the next game "But it was never something bad, I love this baby, I want it to be healthy and to live a good life"

"I will be with you from now on, I promise I wont go anywhere" He said taking your hand in his in a silent promise

"Next" The guard called making you let go of his hand and take the food the guard was giving, before you could go the guard stopped you and gave you a small plastic bag with pills.

You took it not sure what it was.

As you walked towards the group you read it "Vitamins for pregnancy" You almost fell in suprise and walked a bit quicker towards the group but more specific towards Jun-hee who seemed go be waiting for you.

"(Y/N) Did they..." she trailed off showing you the same bag of pills

"Yeah. Do you think they had a change in heart?" You asked taking a seat besides her.

"I dont know but I wont question it" She said opening the cartoon milk and swallowing the pills. You did the same starting to feel better.

"(Y/N), Jun-hee you two can have my milk" Jung-Bae said almost forcing you to take it.

"But-"

"You two can also have mine" In-ho said appearing and giving you his own "Like that you two will have enough energy and your babys will be healthy"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

It was almost time for the lights to go off once again. Jun-hee and You shared a bed in order to share the blankets, the other four insisted that you two rested and that they would keep watch.

When Gi-hun woke up In-ho to take turn he would take some times to glance at you. His heart softening at the sight of your sleepy face and your belly under the blankets.

How much did he want to have you back in his room, in a most comfortable bed. He would have to leave you during the day but would return to cuddle you in the night. Would talk to your belly saying to it just how proud he was, and how happy its existence made him. He wanted to pull his ear against it, try to listen to it or feel it kick.

Soon, he would make sure you survived the next game and will get you out of the games.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Tags:

@maria-trisha @blueyesuguru @imenekiki @victorie767 @futuristicdefendorfart

Blue = I could not tag you 😞

[pacofprunes]

let me help ya’ relax.

thanos / player 230 x reader (squid game)

warnings — noncon, public (voyeurism), tears, kissing, use of the word bitch, use of the word rape, pussy kissing, choking, slight / barely but manhandling,

by clicking read more you consent to reading this content and you are 18+

“hey beautiful.”

“the hell?”

standing right in front of you, or rather over you, player 230. it was night and everyone was asleep or sitting in a corner somewhere. you didn’t know this guy beside seeing him the first two games and seeing him act like a fucking lunatic. you sit up and gather yourself.

“what do you want?”

“oh you know, just wanted to talk to a pretty girl.”

he does a cheeky smile. you stare. what do you even say to that. thank you i guess…?

“uh—”

“no need to thank me, it’s what i do. just such a great fucking guy right?”

he picks at the cross on his neck before pulling a pill out and holds it out to you.

“you use?”

“what?”

“drugs. do you do drugs? or have you done them before?”

how the fuck did he manage to bring his shit in here for one, and for two; why the hell is he more worried about doing drugs rather than living. that’d be the last thing you’d be thinking about.

“no. i dont do them and i dont have any interest in that.”

he does a fake pouty face.

“come on babe, loosen up ya’know? don’t wanna stress your pretty little face out.”

he pops the pill in his own mouth. where was this guy going with this? he clearly wants to stay here, hence the big blue ‘O’ on his jacket. so if he’s bored he should go talk to the people on his side. how the hell could you relax watching people you’ve gotten close to or even have just spoke to once die? meanwhile this dudes been jumping around having the time of his life while he’s been here. if this game ended tomorrow, he’d join it again a million times over. or maybe he wouldn’t but the drugs in his system sure as hell would.

“yeah, no… i appreciate your kindness but i don’t even know you and i think i’m just gonna lay back down.”

he grabs your hand and starts shaking it aggressively.

“my names thanos, it’s great to meet you! now you know who i am.”

he smiles again. you just stare. that’s not how it works at all. you could tell he was waiting for you to introduce yourself but you just brush it off and tell him again you’re going to lay back down. before you get to turn over and lay though, he grabs your face with both of his hands and presses your lips together into a deep kiss. he holds you there for a good while, and it felt like you were suffocating.

“what the fucks wrong with you?”

“baby, you could be my new drug! change that ‘X’ into an ‘O’, we’d be absolutely unstoppable!”

“this is real life you idiot, not some fucking video game!”

you slap his hand away from you and try telling him to get lost, but he just grabs your wrist and pushes you back onto your bed. you yell at him to get the fuck off of you but he just presses a finger up to your mouth hushing you.

“sex is a great way to relieve stress. just let me make you feel good. don’t be too loud though, unless you want the others to see us. but by all means, do it. it’s only making me harder.”

he laughed and winked at you. you suck the air through your teeth and he still holds onto your left wrist with one of his hands while letting the other one push at his chest. you’re more cautious with your voice level now and in a whisper you try again to get him to go.

“i don’t want to have sex with you, can you just go? go jack off in the corner or mess with literally any other girl here!”

he ignores you for the time being and goes to push your pants down, but with your free hand you grab his hand to stop him.

“gee babe, how sweet of you to wanna hold my hand! but uh, i kinda need it to get to the fun part.”

he ignores your hand continuing to grab at his, not proving to be much of use at all besides annoying him. he pushes your pants down, and then your panties to your ankles; acting as sort of some form of restraint. it would prove to be somewhat more difficult to kick at him now as your footing would get caught in the pant legs. he sits up off of your chest finally and starts to pull his pants and boxers off. you wanted to scream at him so badly to get off of you, to scream for some help, but you knew nobody would and all they’d do was watch. it wasn’t anybody’s problem and they weren’t going to make it theirs.

he cups your sex and starts rubbing circles at your tiny little hole to get you all soaked and ready for him. he leans down and he kisses it. he was literally about to start making out with your fucking pussy.

you squeezed your eyes shut and a couple tears come sliding down. god, first you’re in this game that seems normal, then people around you start getting shot, nobody wants to go home, and now you’re getting rapped by some crazy ass drug addict that calls himself fucking thanos. thanos! you’re pulled out of your thoughts when you feel his thumb on your face and him wiping your tears. you slightly open your eyes and he kisses you again. this time with your free hand you push as hard as you can at his face. he moves back and he makes an ‘ow’ face and rubs his forehead. he grabs your used to be free wrist and just pushes it to your side and holds it there.

“it’s always the prettiest bitches that play fucking hard to get.”

he lines up his cock with your somewhat wet hole. he maybe would’ve spent a little more time prepping you but you just ticked him off and he wasn’t going to help you anymore than he already has.

“it’s alright, i’ll have screaming my name and this whole place will know it by the time we’re done baby!”

oh god you were gonna be sick. you feel the sudden intrusion and you immediately tense. biting your lip back from screaming and shaking your head, tears flying left and right. you try to bend and claw your fingers at his hands that are holding yours down but it proves to be futile. you yell at him, while still keeping your voice down to stop and that he’s gotten enough and that he should go.

“agh—please—”

“please? you—fuck’—you want me to please keep going? well you don’t have to tell me that, i was already going to!”

he keeps a fast pace going, and the bed might as well of slid off of the shitty bars it was being held up on. everybody sleeping above you could definitely feel the whole thing moving. you try to fish your legs out of your pants legs to at least have some sort of way of pushing him away but it proves to be slightly harder than you thought.

“fuck babe—you feel so—fuck- so fucking good.”

he sucks the air through his teeth breathing heavy, while you’re doing the opposite and holding your breath.

“god you’re so tight, and you’re so — m’- so hot. i wish i could feel every inch of your — agh - you’re body but you’re too much of a fucking bitch, so i gotta keep ya’ still.”

he stops at an in thrust and moves his face down to yours, causing his cock to go deeper in you and causing you to bite back a moan and squeeze your eyes shut. he press his forehead to yours, your sweat causing them to almost stick together. he whispers to you while keeping perfect eye contact.

“but your my fucking bitch right? you’ll be my dumbed out little whore, baby. should get a tattoo on ya’ that says thanos’s bitch.”

he laughs moves down to your neck, starting to kiss all over it. leaving sweet marks all over as he starts thrusting into you again. you just feel his heavy hot breath against your neck and you just stare up at the bars above you and hold in the choked up sob threatening to come out. you feel his cock tense in you, threatening to shoot his load out and your eyes widen. he starts thrusting harder. he lets go of both your wrists and before you can even breathe out, relieved from the slightest bit of less pressure, he wraps both his hands around your throat and looks you in the eyes the whole entire time.

“come on bab — fuckk’- babe. look at me pleas- come on, watch how good you — you make me feel.”

you start to scratch at his his hands and his arms. he’d most definitely be marked up all over by the morning. finding it increasingly more difficult to breathe. you finally decide to look him in the eyes, sending him a pleading look to stop and to quit choking you, your face slowly starting to turn a shade of blue. upon your eyes looking at him, seeing those teary orbs and pleading face, it sends him over the edge. he sends a curse your way before he surprisingly pulls out his load going all over the bed. he lets go of your neck and pulls up his boxers, falling on top of you. his weight making it hard for you to completely catch your breath. you start to choke and hiccup on your own tears before he looks up at you and strokes his hand across your face, catching a few tears in his hand.

“i told you it wouldn’t be bad at all. don’t you feel a little more at ease now? are you prepared for the games tomorrow?”

not at all. was he fucking delusional? he lays his head back on your chest, looking up at you like a child, and rubs his hands up your sides.

“tomorrow when we vote, you better change to an ‘O’. wouldn’t want my pretty girl to betray me after all.”

he does a fake pout at the end of that. you go to sit up to pull your pants back up but he stops you.

“uhm, allow me. wouldn’t want you to do any hard labor! i’ll take care of it all for ya.’”

he pulls your panties and your pants up and sits up off of you, getting his own pants situated. he grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the top of it, looking at you in your eyes with a smile, your eyes still watering. and you send a glare his way.

“ouch babe! you hurt me here.”

he smacks his chest a couple times where his heart was.

“i’d stay here and sleep with you, but my friends will want a piece of you too if they find out that’s what i did tonight.”

you shudder at the thought of that.

“but dont worry. i’ll see you tomorrow. i’ll see ya at breakfast, yeah?”

he pulls you in for one long kiss and you push him away and he almost falls into the next bed over. he grabs at his heart again dramatically.

“ugh, i don’t wanna leave you. we’ll talk tomorrow though, kay? maybe have some more fun too.”

he winks at you again before turning over his shoulder and literally skipping away, running with his arms in the air and his hands in fists. you just hug your knees, crying into them, and now more than ever you wanted to go home. god this was so fucked. you just wanted to go to the bathroom and wash all over yourself but you knew they wouldn’t let you in. you just keep a tight grip around your knees, trying to find some sort of solace while you’re stuck here.

[navybrat817]

Ficlet Friday?

A slightly buzzed Bucky just being the cutest or in love or both. Definitely a fluff-ficlet. Your choice on which Bucky 😉

I tried to make it fluffy, nonnie, but it does have a touch of angst. Sorry!

Pretty Girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: Over 700

Warnings: Tipsy Bucky, encouraging friends, slight angst

You were reading a book in the lounge when laughter rang out through the hall, a smile touching your lips. The guys decided to do a “boys' night out” and it sounded like they had a good time. Between being heroes and the trials and tribulations they all went through, they deserved it.

“Hey! Pretty girl!”

You didn't turn toward the sound of Bucky’s voice immediately as much as you wanted to. Glancing around, you were the only one in the lounge, so who was he talking to? It would mean everything for him to call you pretty, but you were just… you.

“Steeeeve. I don’t think she heard me,” Bucky loudly whispered.

“Then say it again with feeling,” Steve loudly whispered back.

“Got it.” Bucky sucked in breath which gave you enough time to cover your ears. “HEY! PRETTY GIRL!”

“Jesus Christ, I can hear you guys,” you confirmed, shutting your book. There went your quiet evening. “I guess stealth isn’t your strong suit tonight.”

You shrieked when Bucky suddenly sat beside you, casually throwing an arm over your shoulders. Okay, he was still stealthy, and he looked amazing in his jeans and henley. “There’s my pretty girl. I missed you,” he smiled.

“Um…” You looked around to find Steve, Thor, Sam, Joaquin, and Clint hovering by with expectant looks on their faces. You tried to come up with something witty, but all you said was, “What?”

Bucky chuckled, his cheeks a bit more pink than usual. “My pretty girl is adorable, isn’t she?” he said over his shoulder before looking at you with hearts in his eyes.

You leaned in to get a closer look at him, catching a small whiff of liquor mixed with his cologne. “You’re tipsy,” you said. How was that possible?

“No, I’m Bucky. And you’re pretty,” he smiled, the dreamy look still in his eyes. “Pretty eyes, pretty smile, pretty voice. Even your name’s pretty.”

As happy as you were to hear those things, even as your heart pounded, you looked to the guys for help because Bucky couldn’t be serious. “How?”

“My apologies,” Thor spoke even louder than usual. “I shared some of my Asgardian liquor with Barnes and Rogers and… Well-”

“Bucky hasn’t shut up about you,” Sam cut in, rolling his eyes. “‘My girl is the prettiest girl there is.’”

“‘Isn’t my girl brilliant? And so kind!’” Clint mocked.

“‘Her smile just lights up the room’,” Joaquin added.

“Guys, c’mon. It’s sweet,” Steve smiled before he said, “‘I’ll bet her kisses even taste pretty.’”

Heat filled your cheeks. Bucky didn’t deny a thing, so they were telling the truth, weren’t they? “But I’m not-”

The former Winter Soldier placed a hand on your cheek, drawing your attention back to him. “Don’t look at them, pretty girl. Look at me.”

You did, and it made you want to cry. Because you weren’t his girl. He was only saying these things because he was tipsy. “Okay. You had your fun, so why don’t you get some sleep?”

His smile fell away. “No,” he muttered, pulling you into his lap in the blink of an eye and putting his face in your neck. “I’m fine right here.”

His lips against your skin had you shivering, and it wasn’t possible to break from his hold. Being this close felt like a dream, but he was tipsy and you had to be the responsible one. “Um… a little help?” you asked.

“Of course.” Thor stepped forward. “Allow me.”

You smiled at the God of Thunder. “Thanks, I…” You stopped when he draped a blanket over you and Bucky. Where did that even come from? “That wasn’t what I-”

“And some water,” he smiled as Bucky nuzzled your neck with a happy moan. You tried not to let that moan turn you on. You had to be good. “Men, let us take our leave.”

“Behave, jerk,” Steve said as Thor shuffled everyone from the room.

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky snarled, nuzzling you again. The lights dimmed, too. It was almost romantic. “Not you, pretty girl. You can say whatever you want.”

You had to laugh. Laughter was better than worrying about what would happen in the morning. “So, I’m your pretty girl?”

“Yep,” he said with a smile. “All mine.”

“Okay, Sarge,” you smiled sadly. “I’m your pretty girl.”

Relaxing in his hold, you could pretend until he was sober that you were.

Love and thanks for participating in Ficlet Friday! ❤️ And this one may be fun to continue.

[cupidsribbns]

ellie, who you definitely don't have feelings for.

ellie, who you feel nothing but platonically for. you just appreciate her weirdly perfect face– as a friend. and those green- no, olive tinted eyes; the way they widen when you say something a tad affectionate. as a friend.

or the way you can always see her uneven dimples, but you can really see them oh so well when she smiles.

the smile that slowly spreads across those big stupid cheeks scattered with freckles— the same freckles which trail all the way down to her ankles, the ones that you don't care about. at all.

you've noticed she furrows her eyebrows. a lot. when she was thinking particularly hard about something stupid you asked her, or when she's confused, which seems to be a lot, or when she seems a little too quiet when you announce you're finally going on a date– the silence doesn't mean anything at all. she’s just happy for you, obviously.

so much so, she sits and waits till you're back from your frustratingly long date and listens to your undecided yaps– well, tries to. how long have you been talking about this fucking date? ellie can't remember, she can’t listen to this shit.

sitting rigidly, she picks at her nails while throwing an occasional “mhm.” and “oh really?” to really sell it. you don't even notice she's not listening. wow. mustve been a pretty fucking great–

“ellie. are you even listening?”

shit.

ellie looks up blinking a few times before running a hand through her hair. she’s uncomfortable. you've been around long enough to notice these things. the things even ellie doesn't notice.

“sorry yeah- right. m’ here. i’m listenin’.”

you relax to some extent and continue, yet your words are now laced with insecurity,

“okay so, i was talking to her and i was like-”

you pause, noticing she’s spaced out again.“seriously what's wrong? if you want me to be quiet i will, just—”

cold fingers quickly but gently cradle your face before her scarred lips connect to yours.

a quick peck. that’s all it was. both bodies pulled away with hesitation.

“oh.”

“i’m so fucking sorry- shit. why did i do that, i didn't mean to do that—”

she’s quickly pulled back into a kiss.

ellie, who you definitely have feelings for.

ellie, who you have now discovered, you love kissing.

a/n: haiii um this is the first ever fic esc thing ive wrote and the first thing ive wrote in YEARS so. its not great! and i dont know how i feel about it! but pls b kind! if you got this far i love u okay bye love u 💘

thank u @amourrs & @caraphernellie 4 proofreading love u

[r0-boat]

🪶 anon here! Can I request headcanons for ZZZ Lighter, Billy, Anton, Ben Bigger, Wise, and Lycaon reacting to being under a mistletoe with his gn crush please?

Oh my God Oh my God I'm so late.

Pretend it's Christmas! just pretend! shut up!!

ZZZ Boys react being under the mistletoe

You smiled and chatted with a little group of your friends, the managers at random play hosted a Christmas party in their parking lot and who are you to decline your best friends! With a few chairs and tables Christmas lights and even a giant projector playing classic Christmas movies it quickly became very lively Even some of the people running the shop next door brought homemade food and treats, and some alcohol. After a drink or two and introducing yourself to a few people, You somehow made your way under a familiar green plant with someone you knew.

Lighter Lorenz

He'll try to act like he wasn't the one who tried so hard to look so casual standing close enough between you and the mistletoe. He'd been trying to get you underneath all night, And now that you're right next to him he had to hold back how much he was smiling as all he did was look up.

"Well, would you look at that... I'm not too familiar with the rules, are you?" The big fat liar said, letting a little curve of a smile grace his freshly moisturized lips from the chapstick he had used earlier. He was already sneaking his arms around your waist pulling you closer to kiss him. You decided to not call him out for his blatant lie as he almost completely took the lead and kissed you.

Billy Kid

He generally thought mistletoe was a myth, a myth that someone like him would never be under a plant like that. He didn't even know that The plant actually was a real life plant until Nicole had to explain to him what he was underneath. And once everything hits him all at once.

Billy.exe stopped working

He doesn't care if he can't feel your soft lips, the fact that you kissed him counts. But damn it was one of those days where he really wish he could feel maybe he should get that skin sensation update. It's expensive but any price he would pay to feel your lips again.

Anton Ivanov

The most chill out of everyone. "Oh I'm just giving you a kiss? Sure!" As he goes in to kiss you. Using the mistletoe as an excuse to kiss you has him fist bumping the air.

Anton is the kind of guy who makes his feelings for you known. He's also so blatant with his feelings that you think he's joking. If it was anywhere else on that mistletoe, he would have kissed them on the cheek or something, but no, for you. He makes sure to kiss you where it counts. He'll even ask "do you want more?"please say yes he would like that.

Ben Bigger

Poor bear he's practically shaking. Despite being twice your size He scared that he might hurt you or nip you on accident with his sharp teeth. "You don't have to if you don't want to... You can just kiss me right here." He says with a smile His claw pointing to his cheek. He could never accept a kiss from your lips. It's not the right time!

He'll make sure to bend to your height. His eyes closed, bracing for your soft lips. He could hear his heart pounding so loud that it drowned out everyone else. He hopes no one is looking. He might die from embarrassment or cardiac arrest, whichever one comes first.

You surprise him by touching his cute face and kissing his little nose. He hopes that you can't see his blushing face through his brown fur, but he's not helping to hide how he feels with his paws covering his face.

Wise

Damn it! He told his sister not to hang up that thing! And when trying to take it down you just so happen to bump into him. His eyes went wide as his heart jumped in his throat instantly forgetting what he was doing. His voice cracks as you point out the mistletoe that he's trying to reach for.

"Y-yeah That's there... Um... So listen you don't have to if you-" You were done hearing it as you kissed him on the lips. Thanking his self-restraint that day for swallowing his internal screaming. But he couldn't do much to hide the blush on his face as he smiled. "Forward aren't you... Save some for me." Four words that he will be regretting for the rest of his life.

Fine, the mistletoe can stay... For now, he'll have to thank his sister later.

Von Lycaon

To him a mistletoe is childish, Even as a younger pup He thought it was a little stupid. But with that bright smile on your face how could he refuse. Why spoil your fun? You look so happy to see him and you're cute face always makes his tail wag.

"where would you like my lips to lay?" He asks. When you appoint to your lips his eyebrows flick up for just a second before his smile widens. "Who am I to turn down such a request." He can't help but give you a little extra pressing his nose against your hand before moving to kiss your lips. Now he definitely understands the appeal of mistletoe.

Asaba Harumasa

He would probably take the mistletoe that is tied to the ceiling and bring it over to you. He taps your shoulder and jiggles it in his hand with a smug smile. He will regret this for the rest of his life, but who cares? He has a little alcohol in his system, and you're right there. His heart could burst when he felt your lips against his. He wanted more so badly. He tried to pull you in closer. His eyes were half-lit as if he were under a spell.

He had to stop himself from going in for another kiss. Your lips were so perfect. He wished he could do more than a quick peck, but with people watching, he couldn't just slip his tongue in your mouth.

[orangeblossomsintheair]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS (2/4) | CS55

summary : You tap on his profile again, almost like you’re double-checking to make sure this isn’t some kind of glitch. But no. Apparently, it’s real. You thought it was just a one-night stand. Maybe it still is. But who the hell follows their one-night stand’s Instagram?

wc : 7.5k

an : uh.. hi again 🫶 this was super fun to write!! :> im so glad ppl seemed to enjoy pt 1

He’s hyperaware of the heat radiating from your skin, the faint sheen of sweat glistening against the dim light, and the way your fingers lazily trace patterns across his chest.

When it’s over, Carlos feels the weight of you collapse onto his chest, your soft breaths mingling with his own as both of you struggle to steady yourselves.

He knows this should be the part where he gets up, grabs a drink, maybe offers you a towel.

Instead, his hands wander down your back, his fingertips finding those tiny dimples near the base of your spine. He traces slow, absentminded circles, grinning when you squirm against him with a halfhearted giggle that bubbles up like a melody he didn’t know he liked.

“Ticklish, huh?” he teases, his voice low and teasing, though it lacks the sharpness he usually reserves for these fleeting encounters.

“Maybe,” you mumble into his chest, your voice muffled and sleepy.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

It’s the kind of thing he doesn’t normally do.

Too intimate, too dangerous. But with you, it feels natural, easy.

And therein lies the problem.

He pulls out, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead when you let out a quiet whine.

With a practiced motion, he removes the condom, ties it off, and tosses it into the bin before slipping back into bed beside you, not even a minute later.

The two of you lie there in the quiet, the air between you filled with the soft sound of your breathing.

Carlos stares at the ceiling, his mind racing even as his body feels like it’s sinking into the mattress.

This was supposed to be simple.

One night. No strings.

But you’re fun. Too fun, really.

It's not that he’s never met women who are funny, or ones who’ve turned an evening into something more than just a tangle of bodies.

It’s just that, for the most part, that’s all it is. An unspoken agreement that they'll share the night, and then part ways. A blank, if not lustful, exchange.

You, on the other hand, have spent the whole night surprising him, throwing him off-kilter in a way he didn’t think he’d enjoy.

The banter, the teasing, the way you’d wrinkle your nose at him when you didn’t believe his answers.

It all stuck with him in a way he knows it shouldn’t.

“You want tiramisu?” he asks suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence.

You lift your head, your sleepy eyes meeting his with a confused smile. “What?”

“Tiramisu,” he repeats, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Do you still want some?”

Your laugh is so unexpected and genuine that it catches him off guard. It’s light, carefree, and the way your nose scrunches in that way he's becoming to fond makes his chest tighten.

“I just… gave you the best sex of your life,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbow, your grin mischievous. “And you’re offering me dessert?”

Carlos raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “What can I say? I’m a man of priorities.”

“Priorities, huh?” You snort, shaking your head. “So what, tiramisu’s your way of saying ‘thanks for the good time’?”

“Something like that.” He shrugs, though the glint in his eyes betray his amusement.

You narrow your eyes at him, but there’s no real malice in your gaze. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously charming,” he counters without missing a beat, his grin turning cocky.

You roll your eyes, but the way you settle back against his chest tells him you’re not as annoyed as you pretend to be.

And that’s when it hits him, the thought sinking like a stone in his gut.

He likes this. Likes you.

Maybe not romantically. Not yet at least. But definitely more than he should.

The realization is unwelcome, gnawing at the edges of his carefully constructed rules.

This is a one-night stand. That’s all it’s supposed to be.

But here you are, lying on his chest like you belong there, laughing at his dumb jokes and making his heart flip in a way that feels too good to ignore.

The thought itself makes him sick.

“Alright,” you say suddenly, breaking him out of his spiral. “Fine. Let’s get tiramisu.”

He blinks at you, startled by your casual agreement. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, grinning. “But only if you admit I was better than you.”

Carlos groans, his head tipping back against the pillow. “I’m never admitting that.”

You laugh again, soft and sweet, and Carlos knows, despite himself, that he’s in trouble.

He places the order moments later.

You’re still sprawled on the bed, a lazy grin playing on your lips.

“Do you always use tiramisu as a post-sex strategy?” you ask, your voice light but curious.

He smirks, sitting on the edge of the bed and tossing his phone onto the nightstand. “Only for people who deserve it.”

You snort, rolling onto your stomach to prop your chin on your hands. “Lucky me.”

“Lucky me,” he counters, glancing over his shoulder at you. The way your hair falls across your face, messy and untamed, makes his chest tighten.

When the dessert arrives, Carlos grabs it from the door, careful not to let the guy bringing it up see the faint red marks on his neck.

He returns with the elaborate cloche, holding it up triumphantly. “Food is served.”

You both sit cross-legged on the bed, the plate between you.

Carlos hands you a fork, watching as you take your first bite. Your eyes widen in exaggerated delight.

“Wow. This might be better than sex,” you joke, though the mischievous glint in your eye says otherwise.

Carlos chuckles, shaking his head. “You wound me again.”

“Well, maybe if you’d ordered two...” you tease, but your tone softens as you gesture for him to take his own bite.

The tiramisu is good. Great, even. But Carlos barely notices.

He’s too focused on the way you laugh when you get a bit of cream on your nose, or how your lips curve as you savor each bite.

You’re funny, in a way that feels effortless. It’s not just the jokes or the teasing; it’s the way you bring a lightness to the room, the way you make him feel like this moment is the only thing that matters.

And there's that thought again.

He shouldn’t be feeling this way.

He barely even knows you.

Carlos watches you scrape the last bit of tiramisu from the plate, your eyes gleaming with triumph as you lick the fork clean.

He leans back against the headboard, arms crossed, a mock glare plastered across his face.

“Didn’t even save me the last bite,” he says, shaking his head. “Unreal.”

“You snooze, you lose,” you reply smugly, placing the empty plate on the nightstand with a flourish.

“I was letting you enjoy it,” Carlos argues, sitting up straighter. “It’s called being a gentleman. Look it up.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “A gentleman wouldn’t sulk over dessert.”

“A gentleman wouldn’t have to sulk if someone had manners,” he shoots back, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

You throw your head back, laughing, and Carlos feels a strange pang in his chest.

He quickly smothers it, keeping his expression light, his tone teasing.

“Don’t worry,” you say between giggles. “I’ll order you a second one. You’ll survive.”

“Don’t bother,” he says, waving you off dramatically. “I’ll just starve. Waste away. Die in this very bed.”

“Oh, stop it,” you say, swatting his arm. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Dramatic? Me?” He feigns shock, pressing a hand to his chest like you’ve mortally wounded him. “I’m the picture of restraint.”

You narrow your eyes at him, a smirk playing on your lips. “Restraint? Coming from the guy who ate my pussy out earlier like a starved man?”

“That’s called quality service,” he says, completely deadpan. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Quality service,” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

He smiles, nodding.

This is what you deserve.

Lighthearted fun, no heavy emotions weighing you down.

He’s an expert at keeping things that way, at making sure there’s nothing to hold onto when the moment ends.

It’s what he promised you. And it’s what he’s going to give you.

Because anything more would be unfair.

Carlos slides out of bed quietly, careful not to disturb you as you stretch languidly under the covers.

His shirt, now crumpled, is pulled over his head in one swift motion, followed by his jeans.

He pauses for a moment, running a hand through his hair, the weight of the night settling on him like a second skin.

You watch him with a raised brow, propped up on your elbow. “I thought I was supposed to be the one getting kicked out?”

The corner of his mouth twitches as he glances at you, shaking his head. “It’s a hotel, not my permanent residence,” he retorts, his voice tinged with amusement. “I’ll go.”

The playfulness in your tone doesn’t escape him, and he can’t help but snort softly. “Besides, you look too comfortable to be evicted.”

You laugh, tucking the sheets around you. “Chivalry isn’t dead, huh?”

“Not tonight,” he quips, grabbing his wallet and keys from the nightstand.

For a moment, neither of you speaks.

The weight of reality hangs in the air, but you don’t acknowledge it. Instead, you watch as he slips on his shoes, movements practiced and deliberate.

“You don’t have to, you know,” you say finally, your voice softer now. “Leave, I mean.”

He pauses at the door, his hand resting on the handle. “I do,” he replies, looking back at you with a small, almost sad smile. “But thanks for making tonight worth it.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a warmth to your expression. “You’re a sap, you know that?”

“Guilty,” he says, offering you a mock tip-of-the-hat, before stepping out.

As the door clicks shut behind him, Carlos exhales, the cool night air hitting him as he makes his way down the hall.

His chest feels tight, but he pushes the feeling aside, forcing himself to focus on the sound of his footsteps echoing against the hotel’s tiled floor.

It’s better this way, he tells himself. Simple. Clean. No messy feelings to untangle in the morning.

—-

The next morning, Carlos slowly stirs awake, groaning as the sunlight filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow across the room.

His muscles feel heavy, his head a little foggy.

Last night is a blur, but the warmth of it lingers. The weight of your presence, the quiet moments between laughs, the way your eyes shone...

He stretches, cracking his back, but then, like a sudden punch to the gut, it hits him.

The NDA.

“Shit,” he mutters, sitting up so fast it makes his head spin.

He runs a hand over his face, the realization sinking in.

How could he forget that?

He’s been drilled on it, the legal side of things, the contracts, all of it.

He tries to calm himself, taking a deep breath.

You wouldn’t talk. You wouldn’t risk your own career for some tabloid fodder. You’re famous too, after all. Not in the same way, but enough that the press would chew you up if you decided to spill anything.

But still. His PR team would rip him apart.

His manager? Worse. And the worst part? He’d promised—promised—to behave for at least a month. A month.

And if Carlos is anything, he’s a man of his word.

“Dios mío,” he groans, grabbing his phone from the bedside table.

He scrolls through his messages, finding your number quickly. The last text exchange, brief and teasing, makes him pause.

He hesitates for a moment, wondering if texting you about this will only make things worse. Then again, what could be worse than his manager screaming in his ear while tabloids run wild?

His thumbs hover over the keyboard before he types out:

carlos Hey. So... I realized I forgot to make you sign an NDA last night. My bad.

He deletes it immediately. Too casual.

carlos Morning. Hope you slept well. Quick thing, meant to get an NDA signed last night. Oops.

carlos Don’t think you’d spill, but PR would freak. Let me know if you’re alright with me sending one over?

Carlos hesitates for a moment before adding:

carlos Also, thanks again for last night. You’re fun to be around, even if you’re a little too good at teasing me.

He hits send before he can second-guess himself, tossing his phone onto the bed with a resigned sigh.

Now all he could do was wait and hope that:

1. You wouldn’t be offended.

2. His manager wouldn’t find out about this oversight.

—-

You blink into the morning light, squinting at the phone buzzing on the nightstand like it’s trying to crawl off the table.

You groggily grab it, seeing Carlos' name pop up with a new message.

You stretch, still half asleep, and glance over the message.

The first thing that hits you is the casual tone of it, which instantly makes you raise an eyebrow. NDA?

You don’t exactly need one, at least, you didn’t think you did. But then again, it makes sense. It’s a weird industry, and it’s not like you haven’t signed your fair share of these ridiculous things before.

You laugh a little at the thought, recalling the night before. The way everything felt so effortless, so easy, and now, here he is, texting you about NDAs like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

You picture him sitting in a hotel room, pacing, maybe even nervously fidgeting with his phone like some kind of over-caffeinated, nervous wreck.

You click on his message again, rereading it.

It’s... kind of adorable, the way he’s trying to play it cool about the whole thing. You grin.

And then you spot the part where he thanks you for last night. You’re fun to be around, even if you’re a little too good at teasing me.

That makes you smile, your cheeks warming a little.

You know what he's trying to do, being all casual and kind of sweet. But you can’t help it; it’s working.

You were just teasing him for fun, but hearing him say that? Well, it kind of feels nice.

But you don’t let it linger for long.

You know the drill. You’ve signed NDAs more times than you care to count, and it’s not like you’d ever be stupid enough to leak anything. That’s not even on the table.

Sure, there are some ridiculous tabloid stories out there, but you’re not about to give them the satisfaction.

Your career and reputation are worth more than any cheap headline.

You’re not the kind of person who’d throw away your dignity for a bit of gossip, not to mention that Carlos probably wouldn’t either.

He may be a little reckless, but you get it. Both of you have something to protect, and you respect that.

You stare at your phone, a little smile tugging at your lips. You decide to just keep it simple. He’s worrying, but you’re not about to make things more complicated.

You type out your reply:

you Don't worry about it. They're not getting anything out of me.

you I’ve signed worse things than an NDA, and I’m not about to be the person to ruin your career. If it can even be ruined at this point

you Go ahead and send it over. I’ve got you

By the time afternoon rolls around, you've handled the whole NDA situation with surprising ease.

The paperwork is signed, sealed, and done in record time.

You would have expected more back-and-forth, but Carlos kept it simple. Sent the document, answered your questions, and now it’s behind you.

No drama, no complications.

You step out of the hotel with a relieved breath, feeling like the morning's oddities are finally behind you.

But then there's that nagging little detail: Charles.

Charles, who always has a million questions when you don’t stick to your usual routine.

You grab a coffee on your way back to your room, the scent a comforting excuse for your absence.

It's just something simple. Something that won’t trigger his radar.

You know Charles too well.

A well-timed story about running out for caffeine sounds harmless enough.

And if not, well..

You’ll make it work.

—-

The next week, you’re nursing a mild headache, the kind that makes the sound of your alarm feel like a personal betrayal.

As you peel your face off the pillow, the regret for every sip of alcohol you’d had the night before hits you with the force of a freight train.

You really should stop letting Daniel and Landon drag you to every club under the sun.

Your hair’s a mess, your pajamas are a little too wrinkled for comfort, and you move with the grace of a sleep-deprived zombie who’s been deprived of both sleep and caffeine.

First stop? Coffee. Always coffee.

You shuffle into the kitchen, eyes half-lidded, and reach for your favorite mug, the one that’s seen better days. The faded design, "World's Okayest Sister," is probably more fitting this morning than ever before.

You measure the coffee grounds with mechanical precision, almost like your body’s running on autopilot.

The machine hums to life, and you watch it, waiting impatiently as the rich aroma of coffee fills the kitchen.

If you stare hard enough, maybe it'll brew faster.

Once the mug is filled, you lift it to your lips and take a long, heavenly sip.

The warmth radiates through you like a tiny, much-needed hug. It's not perfect, but it’s coffee, and that’s all that matters right now.

With the cup cradled in your hands, you shuffle back to your phone, which is still sitting on the counter from last night.

Scrolling through the notifications, you pause, your thumb hovering over the screen.

And then you see it.

carlossainz55 followed you.

Your coffee mug pauses midair, precariously balanced as you blink once, twice, trying to process what you’re seeing.

No, surely you’re still asleep.

That has to be it.

You’re dreaming. It’s the only logical explanation.

But no, the notification doesn’t disappear when you squint at it. It stays there, glaring at you, daring you to react.

Carlos’ profile pops up on your screen.

His name. His profile picture, all charm and confidence. His grid, filled with race shots, candid moments, sponsoring deals and that annoyingly perfect smile.

And there it is, glaringly obvious: “Follows you.”

You tap on his profile again, almost like you’re double-checking to make sure this isn’t some kind of glitch.

But no.

Apparently, it’s real.

You thought it was just a one-night stand. Maybe it still is.

But who the hell follows their one-night stand’s Instagram?

You stare back at the notification, still processing it, still waiting for something to make sense of this.

The world feels like it's moving at half speed as you squint at the screen.

Maybe it’s a mistake, you think. Some part of you wants to just close the app and forget it.

But the notification doesn’t disappear.

It lingers. Mocking you.

It’s not like you hadn’t thought about him.

Hell, how could you not? The night had been... well, amazing. The chemistry, the way everything just clicked, the way he made you laugh, how easy it all felt, like you’d known each other far longer than you really had.

The sex? Stellar. Absolutely 10/10. Probably something you'd brag about to your friends in a very classy, not-at-all-suggestive way if you hadn’t signed that NDA.

But now... this.

Him following you on Instagram?

It's like getting slapped in the face with a wet fish that had somehow been lit on fire.

What does this even mean? Are you supposed to act like it’s totally normal? Like you didn’t just have a mind-blowing night that now, suddenly, has an Instagram follow attached to it like a weird souvenir?

Is this how Carlos tells people he’s into them? Like, “Hey, I’ll follow you on Instagram, but let’s keep it low-key, like how I casually post sponsored content about luxury watches that cost more than your rent.”

Maybe he follows everyone he hooks up with?

But no, he’s Carlos Sainz Jr.

This is a guy who gets paid in gold bars, signs contracts that come with their own zip code, and has a fanbase that could start a small country. He's the type who has a personal assistant for his personal assistant.

The fact that he’s following you feels like finding out that Beyoncé follows you. It’s just.. weird.

You inhale sharply, suddenly remembering how to breathe, and glance at the clock.

It’s way too early for this kind of chaos.

You take another sip of coffee, as though caffeine might somehow help you process what’s unfolding.

Your thumb hovers over the follow-back button. Do you? Should you?

Of course, you do.

You tap the button before you can overthink it, and the little blue “Follow” turns into a subdued grey “Following.”

You sit there for a moment, staring at your phone, waiting for… something.

A notification.

A message.

Maybe a rogue pigeon delivering a note written in Carlos’ annoyingly neat handwriting. But nothing happens.

Nada.

“Cool,” you mutter to yourself, setting the phone down as if you’re trying to pretend nothing happened.

You take a deep breath, forcing your mind to focus on literally anything else. Like taxes. Or organizing your sock drawer. Anything but the lingering feeling of weirdness in your gut.

For the rest of the day, you pretend to be busy.

You check your notifications like a paranoid criminal every hour, convinced that your phone is holding some secret conversation you’ve missed.

But no. Nothing. Just the usual nonsense. Some ads, a message from your mom about dinner, a reminder to wash your laundry.

One day turns into two. Then three. The silence becomes more deafening, and you start to wonder if you imagined the whole thing.

Did Carlos actually follow you? Did you dream the entire sequence?

By the end of the week, your life is back to normal. The frantic phone-checking ceases. It's forgotten, a memory that’s faded to black like an expired coupon.

Then, seven days later, your phone lights up, the notification banner buzzing with the energy of a surprise party that you didn’t ask for.

carlossainz55 So, do you always follow people and then pretend they don’t exist?

You blink.

Twice.

Maybe you missed something?

You almost drop your phone because you’re so unprepared for whatever this is.

It feels like being tackled by a puppy while holding a glass of wine. You were doing fine, and then suddenly, everything’s upside down.

yourhandle Excuse me? You followed me first

carlossainz55 Details. The silence was deafening

yourhandle I figured you were busy being, you know, a world-famous rally driver. No time for little people like me

carlossainz55 I make time for the important things

You snort into your coffee, half-amused, half-annoyed. The casual way he says it makes you want to roll your eyes, but you're also weirdly charmed.

yourhandle So, what prompted this sudden message? Lose a bet?

carlossainz55 I was cleaning out my DMs and remembered there was one person I forgot to annoy

yourhandle Wow. I’m honored

carlossainz55 You should be

carlossainz55 By the way, how’s your brother? Still glaring at pictures of me?

yourhandle Probably. I think he keeps a dartboard somewhere with your face on it

carlossainz55 Tell him he needs better aim. I’m still standing

yourhandle He's practicing

carlossainz55 If he needs lessons, tell him I’m available

yourhandle Yeah, I’ll let him know. I’m sure he’d love some quality bonding time with you

The conversation flows easily, light and teasing, like you’re two middle schoolers passing notes in class.

Except the notes are digital, and the subject isn’t Mrs. Henderson’s questionable choice in socks but rather the unspoken elephant in the room.

You both dance around it like you’re in twelve-year-olds, neither of you brave, or stupid, enough to confront it head-on.

At least not until Carlos, true to form, decides that subtlety is for mortals.

carlossainz55 So… about that night…

You freeze, suddenly less comforted and more “oh no, where is this going?”

yourhandle What about it?

carlossainz55 I was just thinking...

yourhandle Dangerous start

carlossainz55 ...we should do it again.

Your jaw drops. This man. This actual man.

Subtle as a brick to the face.

Your brain short-circuits for a moment, staring at your phone like it just insulted your family.

yourhandle Excuse me?

carlossainz55 You heard me. Round two. Let’s make it happen

yourhandle Carlos, you don’t just text someone a week later and propose a sequel. That’s not how this works

carlossainz55 Why not? It’s efficient. I’m a very busy man

yourhandle Busy doing what? Posing with expensive cars and pretending to care about energy drinks?

carlossainz55 Exactly. It’s a tough life

You snort, shaking your head.

He’s absolutely ridiculous, and yet you can’t stop yourself from responding.

yourhandle And what makes you think I’d even say yes?

carlossainz55 Because the first round was great. Admit it.

You hesitate, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

But he’s not wrong.

yourhandle Okay, fine. It was great. But that doesn’t mean I’m jumping at the chance for a repeat performance.

carlossainz55 Come on, live a little. I’ll even let you pick the time and place

yourhandle Oh, how generous of you

carlossainz55 I try my best

You roll your eyes so hard they practically fall out of your head.

But deep down, you’re kind of enjoying this absurd back-and-forth.

He’s bold, sure, but there’s something oddly charming about his audacity.

yourhandle I’ll think about it

carlossainz55 That’s a yes. I’ll pencil you in

yourhandle Don’t get ahead of yourself, Sainz

carlossainz55 Too late

The next day, your phone pings with a message. It’s too early for coherent thoughts, but you know it’s him.

You squint at the screen, and sure enough:

carlossainz55 So… have you decided? Sex?

You blink. Twice. Is he serious? Of course, he is. It’s Carlos.

yourhandle Wow. No preamble? No “How are you?” Just straight to it?

carlossainz55 I’m efficient

yourhandle I think the word you're looking for is shameless

carlossainz55 That too. So? Are you free?

yourhandle Oh, totally free. Let me just clear my very busy schedule of pretending to have my life together. Where are you, anyway?

carlossainz55 Mallorca. Family stuff. You?

yourhandle Monaco. Basically living in Charles’ yacht at this point. You know, as one does. Mostly trying to avoid being swallowed by the summer rumor mill

There’s a long pause. You can practically hear him doing the mental math.

carlossainz55 Okay, so… two-hour flight? That’s nothing. I can be there by dinner

yourhandle Carlos, are you seriously suggesting flying across countries for a booty call?

carlossainz55 I’ve done more for less

yourhandle This is why the planet’s dying

carlossainz55 Okay, okay. Saving the dolphins. What’s the eco-friendly option here?

You roll your eyes, fully expecting the next message to be ridiculous.

And, of course, it doesn’t disappoint.

carlossainz55 Phone sex

yourhandle I’m sorry, what?

carlossainz55 Efficient. Sustainable. Zero emissions. It’s the responsible choice

yourhandle Carlos, do you even know how phone sex works?

carlossainz55 No, but I’m adaptable. Like learning a new track. Same principles

yourhandle You did NOT just compare dirty talk to racing strategies

carlossainz55 Why not? Both require focus, timing, and precision. And confidence, of course

You groan, half in disbelief, half because you’re genuinely entertained.

yourhandle Carlos, this is absurd. You’re absurd

carlossainz55 Absurdly charming

yourhandle Absurdly something, that’s for sure

carlossainz55 So? Are we doing this? Or are you too chicken?

You laugh, shaking your head, still not sure how you ended up here— bantering with a world-famous driver about... phone sex.

You’re almost impressed by how persistent he is.

yourhandle Carlos, I swear, you’re something else.

carlossainz55 I know. It’s a gift

---

Carlos is nervous.

He shouldn’t be.

He’s Carlos Sainz Jr—cool under pressure, smooth behind the wheel, and cocky enough to make people swoon without lifting a finger.

Yet here he is, pacing his room like a lovesick teenager, nerves coiling tighter with each passing second.

Why is he nervous?

He already knows the answer— Because it’s you.

Because for the past week, you’ve been haunting his every waking thought.

Every stolen moment has been spent thinking about the way your lips had parted for him, the way your eyes had rolled back when he sank deep inside you, the way your voice, breathless and wrecked, had gasped his name like it was your favorite prayer.

He’s pathetic, really.

Fisting his cock every night like some horny rookie, chasing memories of you that refuse to fade.

He remembers every little detail too vividly.

Your soft whimpers, the flush of your cheeks, the dazed way you’d looked up at him with a mixture of awe and need.

It’s seven minutes until your scheduled call.

Scheduled.

Like this is some professional meeting and not an invitation to lose his mind over you through a goddamn phone.

He swears under his breath, rubbing a hand over his face as he feels the familiar heat pooling low in his belly.

“Joder,” he mutters, already hard just thinking about you.

He sits back against the headboard, sliding his boxers down his thighs.

His cock springs free, aching and flushed, already leaking like he’s some desperate virgin. He swears again, low and guttural, wrapping his hand around the base as if it’ll calm him down.

It doesn’t.

Carlos spits into his palm, slicking himself up with a firm grip.

His hips twitch at the first stroke, and he hisses through his teeth, already so sensitive he’s on the edge of losing it.

He shuts his eyes, letting his mind drift to you. Fuck. Your pretty little cunt, so tight and wet around him, gripping him like you never wanted to let go.

He can still hear the way you’d moaned his name, sweet and broken, like you couldn’t get enough of him.

He strokes himself harder, his fist moving in slick, desperate pumps.

His breathing grows heavier, each exhale mingled with a groan as his hips lift to meet his hand.

“Good girl,” he mutters, his voice low and rough, the words slipping out without thought.

His mind is full of you.

How perfect you’d looked when he’d buried his face between your thighs, your legs trembling as he devoured you.

He remembers the way you’d begged for him, the way your fingers had tugged at his hair as he licked and sucked until you fell apart.

“Fuck,” he groans, his pace quickening. His free hand grips the sheets, knuckles white as he imagines your face again.

Your lips parted, your expression blissful and wrecked as he pushed you over the edge.

He’s close, teetering on the edge of release, his cock throbbing in his fist.

“Such a good girl,” he slurs, his hips bucking uncontrollably. “Taking me so well—mierda—just like that...”

The thought of your cunt fluttering around him, your breathy cries echoing in his ears, pushes him over.

With a guttural groan, he spills over his hand, thick ropes of cum painting his stomach as he rides out his high.

His chest heaves as he comes down, the pleasure fading and leaving behind a warm haze and just a little shame.

He stares at the mess he’s made, breathing heavily as he mutters a soft curse.

And then the phone buzzes. Your name lights up the screen.

Carlos firmly believes that every man has a refractory period, it's simple biology.

But as his cock twitches at the sight of your name lighting up his phone screen, he starts to question everything he’s ever known.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he hardens again, his body responding to you like you’ve got some magical hold over him.

He huffs out a breath, staring down at the mess he’s made on his stomach, the sticky evidence of how utterly gone he is for you.

With a shaky hand, he answers the call.

His voice comes out softer, more composed than he feels. “Hey.”

Your reply is immediate, and the sound of your voice sends another jolt straight to his cock. “Hey.”

Carlos clenches his jaw, fighting the urge to whine. His body’s so sensitive it aches.

“You nervous?” he asks, his tone laced with a teasing edge to hide how wrecked he feels.

“A little,” you admit, your voice breathy.

He exhales through his nose, his lips quirking up into a smirk. “Then let’s fix that, shall we?”

—

There’s a pause, and then he murmurs, “Do you mind if I take the lead, sweetheart?”

You bite your lip, heat pooling low in your belly at the pet name. “No, Carlos.”

“Good girl.” The words roll off his tongue, slow and deliberate, and you feel the throb of need between your legs intensify.

“Are you in your underwear right now?” he asks, his voice dropping to a low rumble.

You glance down at yourself, cheeks flushing. “Mhm...”

“Tell me what they look like.”

“They’re red,” you whisper, your voice shy.

Carlos grins, his tone playful. “My favorite color. Take them off for me, baby.”

Your breath hitches, and you slip them off, letting them fall to the floor.

“Are you wet for me?” he asks, his voice husky.

“Very,” you admit, your cheeks burning.

“Let me hear.”

You hesitate, unsure how to respond. “How do I-?”

Carlos chuckles, the sound deep and rich. “Slip a finger in, baby. Let me hear how soaked you are for me.”

You inhale shakily, doing as he says.

The moment your finger slides in, you let out a soft whimper.

It’s not enough.

It’s nowhere near enough.

“Fuck,” Carlos groans, the sound making your pussy clench. “You are wet. God, baby, I’d kill to be there right now. All those pretty juices going to waste... I’d lick you clean.”

You whine at his words, your hips shifting against your hand as you try to chase the feeling.

“I know, I know,” he soothes, though his voice is strained, like he’s holding himself back. “Start moving that finger, sweet girl.”

You obey, your breath hitching as you pump your finger slowly. It’s good, but it’s not enough. Not compared to Carlos.

“Carlos,” you whimper, your voice breaking. “Please...”

His laugh is soft, teasing. “Need more?”

“Yes,” you gasp, your hips bucking into your hand. “Yes, please-”

“Okay, baby. Add another finger for me.”

You do, slipping in another finger with a hiss. The stretch feels better, but it still pales in comparison to what you really want.

“Thank you,” you mewl, your head tipping back against the pillow as you fuck yourself slowly.

Carlos groans, his hand wrapping around his cock again, unable to stop himself. “That’s it, baby. Fuck yourself for me. Let me hear those pretty little sounds.”

Your thighs tremble as you press your palm harder against your aching clit, your hips rolling instinctively.

The heat pooling low in your belly is unbearable, and every tiny movement sends sparks racing across your skin.

On the other end of the phone, Carlos has been quiet, but you can hear it, his uneven breathing, the faint hitch in his breath that tells you he’s not unaffected.

You let out a soft, broken moan, unable to keep quiet, and his breath catches audibly.

“Are you…” Your voice is trembling, slurred with need as you choke out the words, “…are you touching yourself?”

“Of course I am,” he groans, his voice wrecked. “How could I not? Fuck, you’ve got me so hard I can’t think straight.”

The image of him stroking himself, his cock slick and swollen, his jaw clenched as his chest heaves, sends a rush of heat to your core.

You grind your hips against your palm, pressing harder against your clit as your thighs tremble.

“I wish you were here,” you whimper, your voice breathless. “Wish I could feel you. I’d be so full, Carlos. I’d clench around you so tight, just like this-”

The sound of your stuttered moan nearly sends him over the edge right there.

Each gasp, each whimper, each broken sob of his name over the line is another jolt to his already oversensitive cock.

He’s gripping himself tightly, too tightly, the pain blending with pleasure until he can’t tell where one starts and the other ends.

His grip falters for a moment before he picks up the pace, stroking himself mercilessly despite the ache in his stomach and the burn of overstimulation.

“You sound so fucking good,” he rasps, his voice cracking slightly as he fights to keep it together. “God, I wish I could see you right now- wish I could spread those legs and watch you touch yourself for me.”

Your shaky whimpers only spur him on. “Carlos… I-I’m so close.”

“Yeah?” His tone dips, almost desperate. “You gonna cum for me, sweet girl? Gonna make those pretty little noises when you fall apart?”

You grind your clit against your palm, your back arching as you nod, even though he can’t see you. “Yes- yes, Carlos-”

He groans, his hand faltering slightly as his cock twitches in his grip.

He’s so fucking close, but it’s almost unbearable now, every stroke of his hand sending shocks through his overstimulated body.

“Fuck, I can hear how wet you are,” he grits out, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip to stop the whines threatening to spill out.

“Wish I could taste you. God, I’d bury my face in that pussy and never come up for air.”

You gasp, the sound high-pitched and desperate, and he knows you’re right on the edge.

You can hear the faint, wet sound of his hand moving faster, matching your pace.

“Think about me, baby,” he murmurs, his voice rough and commanding. “Think about how good I’d feel inside you, stretching you, filling you. You’d take me so well, wouldn’t you? So tight, so wet for me.”

The filthy words rip a broken moan from your throat, your hips bucking wildly as you grind against your palm.

“Carlos,” you gasp again, your voice high-pitched and desperate.

“Come for me,” he whispers, his voice wrecked and raw. “Be a good girl and let me hear you fall apart. Let me hear how much you fucking need me.”

The moment your cries reach their peak, his hips buck involuntarily, his cock pulsing painfully in his hand.

“Carlos!” you scream, your voice cracking as you tumble over the edge.

Hearing his name on your lips like that almost breaks him. His body is trembling, his stomach tight, and the overstimulation is nearly unbearable.

He grits his teeth, his hand still moving as he chases his own release. “Fuck- fuck, baby, you sound so good- so perfect-”

Carlos can barely breathe now. His hand is slick with his own cum from earlier, and every stroke feels like fire, but he can’t stop. He won’t stop.

“God, you’re gonna kill me,” he groans, his voice shaking. “I’m so fucking close- fuck, I can’t-”

His words cut off as his orgasm crashes over him, his vision going white as his cock pulses in his hand.

It’s too much, way too much, but he strokes himself through it anyway, biting back the sobs of pleasure-pain threatening to escape.

When he finally collapses back against the pillows, utterly wrecked, he hears your soft, breathy laughter on the other end of the line. "Are you okay?"

Carlos exhales shakily, his chest still heaving as the aftershocks ripple through him. He wipes a hand over his face, his body buzzing and completely wrecked, but he manages to keep his voice even as he speaks.

"Yeah," he lies, his tone almost too casual. "Just… pent up, I guess."

The truth, though, is that he’s fried. His hand aches, his cock is oversensitive, and his nerves feel like they’ve been set on fire.

But he’d go through it all again, every unbearable second, just to hear the way you came undone for him.

“So,” he asks after a beat, breaking the heavy silence. “How’d I do? Be honest. I can take it.”

There’s a pause on your end, followed by a soft laugh that makes his chest tighten. “Was that really your first time?”

He snorts, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “I mean, yeah. First time on the phone, anyway. Not my first time… y’know.”

“Uh-huh,” you tease, and he can hear the smirk in your voice. “Because you sounded like a pro. Like, suspiciously good.”

“Suspiciously good?” he echoes, feigning offense. “I’m just naturally talented, thank you very much.”

“You’re definitely talented,” you admit, your voice soft and warm. “Very good.”

He grins, letting the compliment settle into his chest like a warm weight. “Thank you,” he says, a little smug.

Then, without missing a beat, he adds, “Now, clean yourself up and drink some water.”

“Bossy,” you shoot back, laughing.

“Always,” he quips, his grin widening. “And I’ll keep saying it because I care. Hydrate, or I’ll call you again just to nag.”

“Fine, fine,” you relent, your tone playful. “I’ll get some water, but only because you’re so convincing.”

He chuckles, wishing he could actually take care of you.

He imagines bringing you a glass of water, wiping you down gently, maybe even cooking you something if you were hungry.

But he can’t. Not tonight, anyway.

“So,” he says, shifting the conversation, “how’s everything else? What’s new with you?”

You hum, and he listens as you shuffle around, likely cleaning yourself up as instructed. “Not much. Work’s been… chaotic. But in a good way, I guess? Keeps me busy.”

"I know that feeling," he says, grabbing a handful of tissues and grimacing as he cleans up the ridiculous mess pooling on his stomach. He swipes at it with quick, efficient movements, though the sheer volume makes him pause for a second.

"Dios mío," he mutters under his breath, shaking his head.

“The season’s kicking back up soon, and summer training’s been brutal,” he continues, his voice a little strained as he carefully wipes himself clean.

When he reaches lower, the sensitivity makes him wince, a sharp hiss escaping through clenched teeth.

His body’s wrecked, his nerves shot, and he’s not sure if it’s pleasure or pain anymore.

You are definitely not good for his health.

“Brutal, huh?” you tease. “Poor baby. All that fame and fortune must make it so hard to be you.”

“Hey, don’t knock it,” he retorts, laughing. “I’ve got to stay in top shape so I can keep looking good for you.”

“Oh, that’s why?” you shoot back, giggling. “Not, like, for the whole racing thing?”

“That’s just a side gig,” he jokes. “The real goal is impressing you. Obviously.”

You both laugh, the conversation easing into a comfortable rhythm.

He listens to you talk about your day, chiming in with little quips and teasing remarks that make you laugh.

It’s easy, natural, and he almost forgets that you’re miles apart.

Eventually, you yawn softly, and he can hear the tiredness in your voice. “I should let you go,” you say reluctantly.

“Yeah,” he agrees, though the thought of ending the call makes him a little regretful. “Get some rest.”

“You too,” you reply softly. “And Carlos?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For… tonight. For everything.”

His voice softens. “Anytime, baby.”

When the call ends, he stares at the ceiling for a long moment, the silence of his room pressing in around him.

He sighs, running a hand over his face, and mutters to himself, “You’re so fucked, Sainz.”

—-

series taglist :

@5sospenguinqueen @wadupppp @waytooobsessedwithlife @weekendlusting

[littlcdarlin]

My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | read on AO3

summary: Joel and reader finally make it back to the hotel & all that sexual tension is resolved. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv (very stupid, wrap it up kids), creampie, cunnilingus, face-sitting, (resolved) sexual tension, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, forced orgasm (not really? kinda sorta?), smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair

Note: finally, the last part is here! I hope you’ll enjoy it, I had a lot of fun writing this. It’s one in the morning so forgive any typos — I wanted to post today. Thank you for the consistent love on this story, I really appreciate all your messages and comments <3

Joel positively drags you back to the hotel, one arm slung across your shoulder, your hastily packed bags in the other. He’s quiet, and you’re afraid that talking will break the spell, that he will hear your voice and remember who you are, and what he’s planning on doing to you. You’re nervous. Excited, yes, but nervous – you’ve been with people before, drunken hookups with collage boys who wanted to get off as quickly as possible. None of it felt like this, you didn’t want any of them as people. With them, it was about the sex itself, with Joel it is almost entirely about him.

Your thoughts are racing in your head, insecurities bubbling up inside of you, things that didn’t matter when you slept with those other people you barely knew – will Joel mind that you aren’t clean shaven? Did he expect you to be more experienced than you were? Were you even good in bed, or would he be underwhelmed, and secretly think you were pathetic?

You want this, more than you have wanted to be with someone maybe ever. But that want makes you vulnerable, strips you of any nonchalance you might have clung to if Joel was anyone else. He isn’t some collage boy who won’t remember you in the morning, he is your father’s best friend, for whom you are a more than controversial choice. Sleeping with you is a threat to his friendship with your father, and still, he’s ready to risk it, he pretty much told you as much. That gives it a level of importance you aren’t used to when it comes to sex.

When you reach the hotel, Joel hurries past the reception before the kind lady can stop you, and despite your nervousness, it amuses you. Joel presses the button to the elevator impatiently, making your stomach flutter. He’s so shameless in his desire for you, not embarrassed by this open display of wanting to get to his room as quickly as possible. You would have worried about looking needy, but not Joel. He’s secure, and solid, and unflinching.

The doors open, and as soon as you’re inside, Joel crowds you against the wall of the elevator, catching your lips in a kiss, before moving his mouth to your neck. You exhale shakily at the feeling of him sucking on your skin, the beard burn a surprisingly welcome sensation.

"They’ve got cameras," you breathe, a weak attempt at regaining some sort of dignity, while Joel quickly unravels you under his mouth and hands.

"Fine by me," he just answers, "Should ask them for a copy to take home with me."

Your knees threaten to buckle at those words, his admission that this isn’t just a holiday hookup, that he will want you just as much when you have left this paradise and returned to the world outside of your bubble.

"Careful, baby," he says, one hand holding you steady by the waist, his lips ghosting over your jawline.

Baby.

With a sudden ding!, the doors open again, and an elderly couple steps inside. Joel stops kissing you, but doesn’t step away, his hand still on your waist, his big body still close to yours. You offer the couple an awkward smile, and barely register the judgement in their eyes as their gazes flicker over Joel’s hair specked with white, because Joel’s hand starts moving again. He slips it under your shirt, no his shirt, rough fingers drawing featherlight patterns on your sensitive waist. His touch is teasing, clearly meant to get some sort of reaction out of you in front of these strangers. Joel’s getting off on this, you realize, on being seen with you, on people knowing just what he plans on doing once you’ve reached the third floor. You bite the inside of your cheek and do your best not to let show how you ache for him, how his gentle touches are affecting you. If you look at him, you know your resolve will crumble, so you pointedly look at a point over his shoulder, and try not to shudder.

As soon as the doors open again, you and Joel get moving, and a nervous chuckle escapes you when you meet his eye. His expression is hard to read – blatant desire, but also something more gentle, something that calms your nerves. It’s Joel. He didn’t leave you hanging when you needed to borrow a bike, didn’t make you feel stupid or guilty for it being stolen, and he won’t make you feel stupid now. That’s what you like the most about him, you think, as his hand ghosts over your back and he leads you towards his room, the way he makes you feel at ease. Whatever the opposite of shame is, that’s what Joel brings out in you.

You reach the door, and want to push it open, but Joel stops you, tilting your face towards him with a gentle touch.

"You don’t have to do this," he says seriously, "we can just go back to the beach. No hard feelings."

You appreciate his consideration, the way he seems to be aware of a certain kind of pressure or expectation his age creates for you, but the idea of going back now, when you’re so close to what you want, makes you want to weep.

"Getting cold feet?", you ask lightly, and he smiles at you, a fond smile, one that seems oddly out of place given the situation.

"I’m just sayin’, I get it if you changed your mind or something. I assume this isn’t the way you…usually do things."

"No," you say, holding his eye contact. "Usually they’re twenty-five years younger."

Joel’s face is a perfect mask, not sure what to make of your remark. You reach up, your hand gently touching his beard, and your eyes glide over the wrinkles around his eyes from years of laughter, the white in his hair, his warm irises.

"God…you’re so fucking sexy," you breathe, and there it is again, that color his cheeks only turn when you compliment him.

"I haven’t changed my mind, Joel," you say honestly, looking directly into his eyes. "Have you?"

"No."

His voice is deep, and he finally, finally opens the door, eyes still on yours.

As soon as Joel pulls you into the room, his lips are on yours again, your arms wrapping around his neck, as he walks you over towards the bed. He’s bigger than you, much bigger, and it only really occurs to you when your knees give out under you, and you land on the bed, sitting in front of him and gazing up.

He looks imposing, almost threatening, if it wasn’t for that expression he has on his face – something behind the desire. You feel safe in his hands, safe to give yourself over, not just in the physical sense. He looks so capable, so easy to trust. His hand comes up to your face, tilting your head up, and you move easily for him, letting him mold you in any way he wants.

"That couple," you begin as you watch him watch you, take you in, "they knew exactly what we were doing."

His hand travels over your throat, and although he doesn’t squeeze, it’s exhilarating to think how well it fits into his palm. You shudder as he pops open the first button of your shirt – his shirt.

"You liked it," you add, voice breathy as the tips of his fingers ghost over your collarbone.

His eyes snap up to yours, and you give a small smile, almost teasing.

"Didn’t hear you complainin’," he answers, holding your eye contact. "Think I should mark you up, so that the reception lady knows, too."

It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, but you press your thighs together to relieve that terrible ache. Joel notices, and smirks almost imperceptibly, opening another button on your shirt. He’s taking his time, building tension by making you wait. He’s good at this, you think.

"But then she would stop calling you my Daddy," you breathe, trying hard not to close your eyes under Joel’s touch. Joel cocks an eyebrow, hands lingering on your shirt.

"Don’t tell me you enjoyed that, kid," he says, voice low, eyes intense. You flush, and wonder if he’ll kick you out now, if you have finally made things too weird to continue, but Joel keeps gazing at you, ever steady.

"Cat’s got your tongue?"

You swallow, and let out a shaky exhale. Joel pops open another button.

"That why you kept repeatin’ it to me? Cause it turned you on?"

He’s teasing you, dragging it out of you despite your embarrassment. He wants you to revel in just how debauched it is what the two of you are doing, and you get closer to giving in with every second. Joel’s fingers trace over the swell of your chest, finally visible now that he’s opened most of the buttons, and a weak sound escapes you.

"’S that it, baby?"

"Yes," you breathe finally, your cheeks burning. Joel’s answering smile seems oddly satisfied, as he opens the last button, lets the shirt glide over your shoulders and slump down on the bed in a little heap of linen. You swallow.

"Yes," he repeats, eyes trailing over your body. You wish he’d hurry up and get his hands on you, but with the way slick steadily leaks into your swimsuit, you can’t really complain. He sure knows how to play you like an instrument.

"Say it, then," he says curtly, a simple order, and you briefly close your eyes. It’s almost too good. His eyes are locked onto yours when you open them, expectant and blown wide with desire. He has stopped moving, and you realize he wants to hear you say it before he’ll go any further.

"I…I want to call you Daddy."

Your stomach curls up with need when you hear Joel groan, his resolve quickly crumbling, as he crashes his lips against yours again. He licks into your mouth with urgency, and it’s possessive in a way it wasn’t before, like he wants to claim your mouth. The thought makes you whimper, and Joel trails one hand over your side and down to the waistband of your swimsuit. You didn’t bother putting on your shorts again, just walked to the hotel in your bikini and shirt. His fingers slide under the thinnest part, right on your hip, and he lets it snap against your body. It doesn’t hurt, but the sound makes you groan.

His hands roam over your body relentlessly, squeezing, and tracing, and feeling the swell of your hips, the dip of your navel, your spine, your breasts. You almost don’t notice him undoing your swimsuit, until he slides off the top part, and runs one finger over your pebbled nipples. Your back arches and your hips twitch towards him, but he doesn’t give in yet, just teases the sensitive nubs while you whimper into his mouth.

Then he unties the little bows on your hips, and just like that you’re bare before him, your swimsuit coming undone with one tug of his fingers, while he’s still fully dressed. He’s disturbingly good at undressing you, something that used to be an obstacle to sex now a sensual part of it. You want to feel embarrassed at the amount of wetness between your legs, but when Joel’s fingers slide over your stomach and down to your throbbing core, he groans into your mouth.

"Jesus, you’re drippin’," he breathes against your lips, breaking away to watch his hand press circles into your clit. You try hard not to twitch under his gaze, his blazing eyes and skilled touch. Another whimper escapes you, as he keeps rubbing and watching your reaction, like he wants to take you in before continuing.

It’s embarrassing how quickly he gets you to the brink of an orgasm, but when your hips twitch towards him with little control, he stops, his eyes meeting yours again. You watch him lift his hand up to his mouth and suck his fingers clean, eyes not leaving yours. It’s the most erotic thing you have ever seen, the way he closes his eyes at the taste, and you wonder how you haven’t come yet.

"I’m gonna eat you out," he says, and it’s not a question. Immediately, insecurity floods your veins – you haven’t had someone do that before, and the men you have heard speak about it said they didn’t enjoy it.

"You don’t…I mean, you can just…", your voice trails off. Joel stops in his tracks, watching your face and cocking a brow.

"You ever been eaten out?"

"No," you say quietly, "and you don’t have to."

"I know I don’t have to," he says, and he sounds almost affronted, like he can’t believe you would think he didn’t enjoy it. "You want me to?"

"I just…know some people don’t enjoy it much," you mumble and look down. Joel’s hand comes up to your face, tipping your chin so you have no choice but to meet his gaze.

"I want you to come on my tongue," he says, "and then again on my fingers."

You almost whine at that, embarrassment seeping out of you easily, and Joel traces his thumb over your lips. You let it slip into your mouth and suck, swirling your tongue around it.

"Alright? You let me take care of you," he mumbles, eyes trained on his finger between your lips.

"Okay," you say, when his thumb slips from your mouth, and then quietly add "Daddy."

"Good girl," he answers, and a wave of heat rushes to your loins. It’s fucked, what you’re doing, completely fucked, but so good you think you might cry. You were scared thinking about it for too long would break the spell you two seem to be under, but the more you do, the more turned on you get. You have Joel Miller in front of you, calling you a good girl and about to make you orgasm multiple times.

"Lie back, baby," Joel says, and you do, sinking into the pillow that smells like him. Joel keeps watching you, and when he kneels down on the bed and gently spreads your legs with his hands, you think you might come from just that sight. But you hold on, because something about Joel wanting to eat you out, not even having taken off his own clothes, makes you curious. 

He kisses your ankle and trails his mouth upwards, over your inner thigh and your hipbone, until you almost tremble.

"Jesus, Joel," you mutter, hips twitching on the bed, trying to get closer to him without your permission. He looks up at you, pressing his thumb to your clit again, and you curse. It’s not exactly painful, but it’s so much, almost too much.

"That what you call me?"

He doesn’t let up, his touch so insistent, you wonder how he expects you to come up with a single word.

"S-sorry," you stutter, grinding against his hand. "Daddy."

It thrills you to use that word, to know it gets Joel off, enough that he chastises you for using his real name.

"That’s right," he answers, and finally he lets up, placing his big palm on your thigh instead. Then, he leans down, and presses his mouth to your clit, flicking his tongue over it. It’s unlike anything you have felt before, and you actively have to will your hips to stop twitching, afraid to somehow hurt Joel. But he notices, ever perceptive, and breaks away, his mouth and beard already covered in your wet.

"Get up," he says, and you feel your anxiety rise again, questions of what you could have done wrong. He waits, but raises his eyebrows.

"You wanna come, or not?"

So you sit up, confused, and watch as Joel lies down on his back.

"Straddle me," he orders, and you move towards his lap, but he shakes his head. "Over my face, come on, baby."

You stare at him. His expression softens when he sees your disbelief, and he gives you a smile.

"Told you I’d make you come on my tongue, didn’t I?"

"Yeah, but Joel, that’s…"

Your voice trails off. You aren’t sure what you want to say – dangerous? Really fucking hot? You’re still sitting by his side, when he strokes one hand over your thigh, a soothing touch.

"I don’t know where you get the idea from that I don’t enjoy eatin’ you out," he says, his voice almost stern, "but you get that right outta your pretty head. Now, will you do as I say and sit on your Daddy’s face?"

Your mind goes a little blank when Joel calls himself that, and you feel helpless to do anything but nod, give him what he really seems to want.

"Words, baby."

His hand trails up your thigh and over your stomach.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl," he answers, looking directly into your eyes, his strong hands grabbing your waist and helping you move, hoisting you up until you’re hovering over his face.

"If I need to breathe, I’ll tap your thigh, alright?"

"Yes," you breathe, quickly adding "Daddy".

Joel’s hands force your hips downward and although the sensation of his mouth under you is exactly what your throbbing clit was begging for, you’re tentative and unsure of what to do – you don’t want to hurt Joel. 

"Move, baby, make yourself feel good," you hear Joel say, voice muffled by your body. You rock your hips forward once, and let out a groan – your clit bumps into his nose, and you feel him lick into your folds. His hands grab your hips, and he starts rocking you against his face, setting the rhythm for you, and and you feel yourself leak onto his face and into his mouth, as you start moving along with him. His beard feels scratchy in the most delicious way, as he lets you fuck yourself on his mouth, his thick tongue darting out.

"Fuck," you moan, "Fuck J-Joel, Daddy, fuck!"

It’s a lot to take in, Joel Miller’s head between your thighs, lapping at you like he’s starving, like he can’t imagine anything better than having you sit on his face. His strong nose keeps nudging your clit, again and again, and your movements slowly becomes more confident, though also less controlled.

Joel’s hands keep encouraging you, and you’re closer than before, right at the brink of coming all over his face, when Joel groans into your dripping cunt. The vibrations send you over the edge, and you practically sit down on his face with all your weight, but he doesn’t stop you, just lets you ride out wave after wave of your orgasm and chant a mixture of his name and daddy.

You get off of him with shaky legs, afraid you suffocated him, but he smiles up at you, looking absolutely wrecked – his hair is tousled, beard and face drenched in your juices, jaw a little slack. He reaches up to cup your face, and you go with his touch easily, laying down next to him. He rolls over until he’s half on top of you, watching your red, panting face, and slants his mouth over yours. You can taste yourself on his lips, can feel his soaked beard against you, and although it should be impossible after just having come, you throb at the feeling.

"So good for me," Joel mutters against your mouth, and trails his hand downward, over your stomach and to your overstimulated clit. You twitch under his touch, your body unsure if it wants to get closer to Joel, or get away from him, and he chuckles.

"She spent?", he asks, his tone a little amused, when you squirm under him. "That’s okay, baby, I’ll give her a break."

Instead, he slides his fingers through your folds, gathering wetness, and finally pushing into you. Your body opens up for Joel more than willingly, and although the stretch is tight, it’s not nearly as painful as you’re used to, you’re too wet and relaxed for that. 

Joel watches your face, your fluttering eyelids, as he pumps two thick fingers in and out of you in shallow thrusts. You whine – you know you’re being vocal, too loud for a hotel room, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when Joel curls his fingers against that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. Your hips twitch upwards, and Joel smirks.

"There we go, baby, there we go," he mumbles, moving his fingers relentlessly, and already you can feel another orgasm building. He doesn’t let up, just lets you whine under him, thrash around, because his touch is almost too much, too good, too intense, but just right. 

"Give me another one, baby, come on," he coaxes, and you think your ears start ringing when his palm starts grinding into your clit with every movement of his hand, the tips of his fingers pressing hard against your insides. "You just let Daddy make you feel real good."

It feels like bursting apart, when you come again, some tight coil snapping and Joel practically wrenching the orgasm out of you with his relentless hand and dirty words.

"Daddy," you groan, your hand coming up to your face, as you bite down on your knuckle. Joel watches you with bright eyes, lets you tremble until he can tell it’s too much, and only then does he slip his fingers out of you. 

You’re weak, exhausted from the intensity of your pleasure, and Joel chuckles when you sigh, watching your glassy eyes.

"Okay if I fuck you now?"

You think you’d let him kill you, if he really wanted to.

"Yes," you breathe, "please."

He finally – finally – takes off his shirt, arms flexing, chest sprinkled in dark hair, his belly protruding over his trunks. You wish you had a camera, or a chisel so you could scratch his glorious body into a block of stone. He’s hard in all the right places, and soft in the rest, and with a jolt you realize you’re allowed to touch now, no longer confined to watching him swim from your deckchair.

"Jesus," you breathe, sliding one hand over his biceps, as he unties the band of his swimming trunks. You know you’re hindering him, but you can’t bring yourself to stop your hand from trailing over his chest, and down to his belly.

"Fuck, you’re so goddamn hot," you mutter when he slides the trunks over his hips. Then your mind goes a little blank, because finally his bulge isn’t confined to his trunks anymore, finally he’s naked in front of you, kicking his clothes onto the floor.

He’s big, just like the rest of him. Long, and thick, and uncut, and dripping in precum, the dark hair at the base of his cock a harsh contrast to the reddish skin. Joel closes his fist around himself, pumps twice, until you tentatively put your hand over his. His cock twitches, and you feel a little overwhelmed with power. Joel let’s go and lets you do the work, your hand much smaller than his. He looks even more imposing like this, as you move your hand up and down his length.

"Wanna suck it," you say suddenly, and you’re not entirely sure where the words come from, but you know they’re true – you want to get him into your mouth, feel him use your face the way you used his. Joel groans.

"God, you’re killin’ me," he answers, eyebrows furrowed, voice wrecked. You squeeze your hand a little tighter, just to hear him make his little sounds again.

"I’ll come if you do, baby, and I’m not sure I have two rounds in me," he says, regret lacing his voice, but his words make you clench around nothing – his age turns you on more than you thought possible.

„And I need to fuck you tonight,," he adds, and wraps his big palm around your wrist, so you stop moving it over his throbbing cock.

"So fuck me," you breathe instead, eyes wide and glued to his. You watch his expression change, something primal take over, and suddenly he’s on top of you, his hips pressing into yours.

"Again," he orders, almost growling.

"Please fuck me, Daddy," you whisper, your stomach clenching and unclenching in anticipation. Joel looks like he might come from just your words, but after a moment of collecting himself, he kisses you briefly.

"Alright, pretty girl, I’ll give it to you real good," he promises, and aligns his cock with your entrance. "You’re so goddamn fuckin’ wet, I can slide right in."

And he does, pushing his hips into yours. You feel the stretch of the thick tip, the widest point almost bordering on painful, and you bite your lip. Joel slides into you slowly, breathing into your mouth and making you feel everything. Then the tip is sheathed inside of you and Joel groans quietly.

"Grippin’ me so tight," he mutters, consistently pushing on, "halfway there, babygirl."

Your pussy flutters around him, clenches and unclenches, as he keeps going, and going. You feel full, and still Joel pushes on, until his hips are fully pressed into yours, and you feel him deeper inside of you than you have felt anything before.

"Breathe, baby," he reminds you, and you let out a shaky breath you didn’t notice you were holding. "Attagirl."

When he pulls out of you again, you make a raspy whining sound, your stomach clenching at the intense drag. Joel’s hands start trailing over your body, yours are gripping his shoulders.

"Look so pretty, all stretched out on my cock," Joel praises you, and God, the mouth on this man. If you weren’t so exhausted from the first two times he made you come, you would be trembling. You groan weakly, as he pushes back in, and starts moving at a quicker pace, setting a rhythm he likes. He punches into you with precision, angling his hips just right, and then he’s nudging against that spot inside of you.

"Ah…Daddy!"

"I’ve got you, sweet girl," he groans, moving both your wrists over your head, and pinning them down with one big hand – he easily engulfs you. You tug against him, testing his grip, and your hips twitch upward when you realize you can’t get out. He’s fully in control now, his cock nudging into you insistently, and you can only take it. You’ve never felt so cared for, as now, getting fucked raw by Joel Miller.

He doesn’t kiss you, but he keeps staring into your eyes, and it feels weirdly intimate. His movements become faster, more forceful, his belly nudging your body with every thrust. You whine, your body unable to do anything except for letting another orgasm build, one you didn’t think yourself capable of. The corners of Joel’s mouth twitch, when he feels you clench, and he fucks you harder.

"Daddy," you yelp at one particularly deep thrust, but Joel doesn’t let up – you don’t want him to. "Wanna come, p-please."

"You wait for my permission," Joel answers. Your belly feels like it’s on fire, tightly coiled with the need to just let go, but Joel wants you to wait, so you will wait. Anything, you think, anything. Joel’s jaw is slack, his brows furrowed, his free hand rough on your skin, but not unkind. You clench around him, and try your best to hold off coming, your eyes falling close.

"Eyes on me, kid," Joel orders, and despite your concentration, your eyes snap open. "Fuck, that’s it, my good girl."

My girl.

Joel fucks you like it, like you’re his. It’s possessive from beginning to end – the way he looked at you when you first wore his shirt, how he wouldn’t back away from you in the elevator. He plays your body like it’s his, dragging the pleasure out of you, and it makes your head spin. You can feel his thrusts go sloppy, can feel his restraint cracking, and your eyelids flutter a little.

"You want it inside, babygirl?"

You didn’t talk about that. You know you should say no. The head of his cock nudges your insides, and Joel’s free hand presses down on your stomach, feeling himself inside of you from the outside with every thrust.

"Yes," you breathe, "yes, please, Daddy, I w-want it."

Suddenly Joel is the one who has to close his eyes, as he keeps fucking into you.

"Fuck, you come for me first, baby," he groans, sliding his hand down to rub at your overstimulated clit. It’s too much, right on the brink of painful, and you thrash under him.

"I c-c-can’t Daddy, it’s…", your voice trails off, lost in the impact of his thrusts, but Joel keeps rubbing tight circles.

"Yeah, you can, baby, you know why?"

You don’t have it in you to answer, so you just stare into Joel’s eyes. You feel something wet on your cheek, and realize you must be crying, crying from how good you feel, how full.

"Cause I said so."

Your pussy throbs, clenches, and Joel moves his finger over your clit faster.

"Come for me, baby, I’ve got you," Joel drawls, and finally you do, your vision going white, your muscles going slack as you let Joel drag his cock in and out of you, the pleasure white-hot.

"Fuck, good girl, that’s my good girl," Joel groans, thrusting into you faster, until he presses into you harder than ever before, and you feel his thick cock twitch and throb against your cervix. Something hot bursts into you, and Joel keeps fucking into you for a couple more seconds, his eyes falling closed. Then, pulls out of you, your pussy fluttering, and he falls down next to you on the bed. You feel like jelly – you couldn’t move if you tried. Joel’s cum leaks out of you slowly, an odd, but pleasant sensation, and you sort of wish he would push it back into you.

After a couple of seconds, Joel pulls you against him, your face coming to rest against his broad chest, and he presses a kiss to your hair. You inhale his scent, and your spent muscles relax further, if possible.

"You did so good," Joel mutters, "so perfect."

His hands trail up your side and arms softly, a soothing contrast to the insistent way he fucked you. Your mind is pleasantly quiet, all caught up in his voice, his scent, his touch, his spent leaking out of you.

"Thank you," you sigh, and Joel chuckles. You smile weakly.

"Wanna get cleaned up, sweet girl?"

"No," you manage, "just wanna sleep."

Joel huffs a laugh, and tucks you more tightly against him.

"I’ll wake you before dinner."

***

When he does, the sun is already sinking. He trails kisses up and down your face – the softest way you’ve ever been dragged back to reality and out of a dream, and the first time you think reality is more fantastic than anything your sleeping brain could come up with.

"Mornin’, sleepyhead," Joel mumbles, catching your mouth in a kiss, his lips moving against yours slowly. You sigh into his mouth, when he pulls away.

"We should take a shower, baby, and you need a pill."

You open your eyes, a little confused.

"A pill?"

Joel raises an eyebrow.

"I mean, I’m not opposed to children, but I think your Dad might be," he says, and you snort weakly. Right, you think, the morning after pill.

"I’ve got an IUD, Joel, don’t worry."

He presses a kiss to your collarbone.

"Back to Joel, are we?"

You blush, and he laughs. It’s blissful, and a little unreal – Joel Miller, teasing you about the debauched, perfect sex you had not two hours ago.

"You prefer Daddy?"

"It’s…got a ring to it."

You can hear the smirk, even though your eyes are closed again, and you’re stretching your tired limbs. You yawn.

"How about room service?", you ask, Joel’s hand softly stroking the hair out of your face.

"Hmm," he mumbles, trailing one hand over your stomach, "or… we take a nice shower, you let me clean you, we have dinner with you lookin’ all fucked out, and everyone downstairs will know what we’ve been up to."

Your eyes open, and although you’re entirely, completely spent, your thighs clench together. Joel grins.

It’s quite the picture – Joel, with an arm around your shoulder ordering two cocktails, the redness on your skin from where he sucked too harshly or his beard burned you. You can see it in front of you, the same waiter as yesterday bringing your food, except this time, Joel lets you use his fork to try his meal, and instead of hurrying down to the beach afterwards, he’ll kiss you slow and long, just because he can, in front of every other guest in this hotel.

„Yeah…or that."

[nomie-11]

Vi x Reader - Piltover's Princess

masterlist!

The first time Vi saw you, she had to do a double take, and then a triple take. Jayce Talis’ little sister, Piltover’s Princess. She was smitten. 

“Cupcake, who is that?” She whispered with a nudge, not taking her eyes off of you as you crossed the room, a light and polite smile on your face. 

“Hm?” Caitlyn turned her head to match Vi’s view. “Oh? Y/n? She’s a friend of mine.”

A brief moment passed where Vi tried to think of the proper words to say, but her mind was blank, not working properly at the sight of your radiant eyes. 

“Do you think she’s gay?”

Caitlyn nearly spit out her wine. 

—————————————

The second time Vi saw you, it was at one of Piltover’s extravagant galas. The kind where everyone looked like they were dipped in gold and smelled of old money. Vi hated these events, but Caitlyn had insisted she come along. 

And there you were again. Standing near the balcony, your laughter ringing like bells over the dull murmur of ancient politicians and annoying industrialists. The soft moonlight spilling through the glass doors made your skin practically glow. Vi nudged Caitlyn, harder this time. 

“She’s here,” Vi hissed, eyes glued to you like you were the only thing in the room. 

“Yes, she’s here,” Caitlyn replied, sounding mildly amused. “She’s Jayce’s sister, Vi. Of course she’s here.”

“Yeah, but why didn’t you tell me she’d be here?” Vi complained, fidgeting with the cuffs of her jacket. 

“Vi, you look like you’re about to fight someone,” Caitlyn teased. 

“I’m not! I just–” Vi trailed off as you glanced int their direction, your striking eyes meeting hers for the briefest second. Her heart did a strange little flip. 

You smiled—a small, knowing thing—and waved. 

Caitlyn, ever observant, caught the way Vi stiffened and the faint flush creeping up her cheeks. She grinned to herself. 

“Go say hello,” Caitlyn suggested, nudging Vi toward you. 

“Wait, what? No, I can’t just—”

But it was too late. Caitlyn had already started toward you, leaving Vi no choice but to follow. 

“Y/n,” Caitlyn greeted warmly as she reached you, her voice smooth and composed. “It’s lovely to see you tonight.” 

“Caitlyn!” you said, your face lighting up at the sight of her. Then your eyes flicked to Vi. “And…?” 

“This is Vi,” Caitlyn introduced, her tone just a little too casual. “A close friend of mine.” 

You raised an eyebrow, your smile turning playful. “A friend, huh?” 

Vi’s throat suddenly felt dry. She extended a hand, trying to keep it cool. “Vi. Nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise,” you said, taking her hand. Your touch lingered just a second longer than necessary, and Vi was certain she saw something mischievous flicker in your eyes. 

Caitlyn cleared her throat, drawing your attention back to her. “You look stunning tonight, Y/n,” she said, her voice softening just slightly. Then she leaned over to Vi, pretending to cough as she whispered: “Come on, idiot. Compliment her.” 

“Yeah,” Vi managed to squeak out. “Your-uh-dress! It’s really pretty.” 

Vi felt like she was drowning under the weight of your attention. You were polite, elegant, and… absolutely enchanting. 

“Thank you, Caitlyn, and thank you as well, Vi,” you replied, a faint blush rising to your cheeks. “You’re both too kind. And you clean up nicely yourselves.” 

Vi could swear her cheeks were as pink as her hair, and she didn’t even get a direct compliment from you. 

“So,” you said, tilting your head, “what brings you two to a place like this? Surely not the riveting conversation?” 

Caitlyn chuckled, her eyes sparkling. “No, just the usual obligation. Though it’s not all bad now that you’re here.” The grin on Caitlyn’s face was mischievous as she glanced over at Vi, a flustered look on the fighter’s face. 

Vi shot Caitlyn a look back, feeling completely out of her depth. You, however, seemed delighted by the interplay between them, your gaze flitting between the two with interest. 

“Well,” you said, taking a step closer to Vi, your smiling widening, “maybe I’ll make your evening a little less boring.” 

Vi’s heart practically stopped.

—------------------------

The third time she saw you, it was a rare day off for Vi, and she’d planned to spend it aimlessly wandering the bustling streets of Piltover. Caitlyn had tagged along, insisting she needed to check on a few vendors for some ongoing investigation. Vi didn’t mind; Caitlyn’s company was always better than being alone. 

What she wasn’t expecting was to see you standing at a flower stall, holding a bouquet of brightly colored violets. 

“Oh no,” Vi muttered under her breath, instinctively ducking behind Caitlyn. 

“What is it now?” Caitlyn asked, turning to follow Vi’s line of sight. The second she spotted you, she smirked. “Oh, it’s Y/n. Why are you hiding?” 

“I’m not hiding,” Vi lied, her broad shoulder still visible behind Caitlyn despite Caitlyn’s towering figure. 

“Sure you’re not.” Caitlyn adjusted her posture just slightly to block Vi further, her own tone suddenly a little too casual. “Though I can’t imagine why you’re panicking. She looks quite lovely today.” 

“She’s always lovely,” Vi grumbled, her face heating up. “And she’s coming this way.” 

Before either of them could think of a plan, you spotted them and lit up. “Caitlyn! Vi!” You called out, making a beeline for them with a bouquet in hand. 

Caitlyn straightened immediately, all poise and grace. “Y/n! What a surprise to see you here.” 

“Is it?” you teased, tilting your head. “This is the main market street, after all.” 

“Right, of course,” Caitlyn said with a small smirk. 

Vi, still half-hiding behind Caitlyn, managed a weak wave. “Hey.” 

You raised an eyebrow, amused by Vi’s sudden shyness. “Hi, Vi,” you said, stepping closer. “You’re not much of a flower person, are you?” 

“I—uh—” Vi stammered, looking desperately at Caitlyn for help. 

“She’s more of a practical type,” Caitlyn interjected smoothly, clearly enjoying Vi’s discomfort. “Tools and gadgets—although her name is Violet.” 

“That makes sense,” you said, smiling at Vi, who looked like she was about to combust. “But they’d suit you, you know. A little color never hurts.” 

Vi’s brain short-circuited. Caitlyn, sensing her friend’s distress, stepped in with a quick change of subject. “And the flowers? Are those for someone special?” 

Your smile turned coy. “Maybe.” you glanced at Vi, who looked ready to fall through the cobblestones, and added, “You’ll have to wait and see.” 

As you walked away, bouquet in hand, Ciatlyn turned to Vi with a smirk. “Smooth.” 

“Shut up,” Vi muttered, watching you disappear into the crowd with a dazed expression. 

—-----------------------------

The next time they saw you, it was at a small, high end cafe where Caitlyn had insisted on dragging Vi for lunch. Neither of them expected you to stroll in, dressed casually but no less stunning, and immediately notice them. 

“Mind if I join you?” you asked, already pulling out a chair before they could answer. 

“Of course not,” Caitlyn said quickly, nudging Vi under the table when she failed to say anything. 

Vi, startled out of her trance, nearly knocked over her glass of water. “Uh, yeah! Totally fine. Sit—uh—sit down.” 

“I already am,” you said with a laugh, clearly enjoying her awkwardness.

The conversation started simple enough, with caitlyn asking about your family and Vi chiming in with the occasional comment. But then the server arrived, setting down the menus, and things quickly spiraled.

“What can I get you?” the server asked, turning to Caitlyn first. 

“I’ll have the house special,” Caitlyn said smoothly, handing back the menu. 

“And for you?” the server asked, looking at Vi. 

Vi froze, realizing that she hadn’t even opened her menu. “Uh… I’ll have what she’s having.” 

The server nodded and turned to you. “And you?” 

You smiled. “Just the tea for now, thank you.” 

Once the server left, you looked at Vi with a playful grin. “Didn’t peg you as a house special kind of girl.” 

Vi shrugged, trying to act cool. “Yeah, well, it sounded… special.” 

Caitlyn, meanwhile, was barely hiding her laughter behind a perfectly polite hand. “Smooth, Vi. Very smooth.”

“Oh, leave her alone,” you said, your voice warm as you reached across the table to lightly touch Vi’s hand. “I think it’s endearing.” 

Vi immediately went red, her brain short-circuiting again. Caitlyn raised an eyebrow at you, clearly nothing the way your gaze lingered on Vi a moment too long. 

The rest of the meal was a blur for Vi, who barely managed to form coherent sentences. By the time you excused yourself with a wink and a promise to “see them soon,” Caitlyn leaned back in her chair, smirking at Vi. 

“You’re hopeless,” Caitlyn said with a smug grin, sipping her tea. 

Vi groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I know.”

-------

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[lvzrii4]

꩜ .ᐟ LITTLE THINGS 이희승

— ✮⋆˙ heeseung x reader ✮⋆˙ fluff, established relationship, non-idol au ✮⋆˙ 0.7k wc ✮⋆˙ grammar errors

WHEREIN heeseung finds himself falling more in love with you every time you do the smallest things.

every little thing you did made heeseung’s heart race in ways he never thought possible. he always told himself he wasn’t the type to get caught up in the small details—but then you came along

it was the way you’d smile at him, that quiet kind of smile, like you knew all his secrets and still loved him anyway. the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you laughed, the way they softened when you looked at him.

heeseung could get lost in your eyes—he had, so many times. 

heeseung was on his way home after you’d sent him out to buy a few things. as he walked past a small flower shop, the colorful display caught his eye. it instantly reminded him of you and the way you always lit up whenever you two visited one. 

“did you know daisies symbolize purity and innocence?” you’d say, rambling random flower facts while pointing to your favorites.  

he smiled to himself. it was one of the many reasons he fell for you—your curious mind and the way you turned even the simplest outings into something memorable.  

on the bus ride home, he overheard a group of friends saying their goodbyes. it reminded him of how you always waved at your friends with the sweetest smile before rushing over to him.  

heeseung couldn’t help but chuckle softly, looking down at his phone. your messages popped up on the screen.  

lovelove ❤️  

food’s almost cold!  

stay safe, i love you!  

oh yeah, i think i miss you already:(  

he laughed at the cute sticker you’d sent along with it. snapping a quick picture of himself on the bus, he texted back:  

my fav person ! 💞

on my way. don’t eat without me! :)  

when heeseung finally arrived home, you greeted him at the door, practically throwing your arms around him. “woah, easy there,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist.

your face was glowing, your eyes sparkling with sincerity, warmth, and love—the kind of look that made him fall in love with you all over again.  

“welcome home! oh, let me get these—thank you for buying them,” you said, pulling away to grab the bags from his hands. he watched you with a fond smile as you disappeared into the kitchen.  

“oh, and dinner’s ready!” you called out. “i also bought your favorite drink yesterday.”  

heeseung sat down at the dining table, resting his chin on his hand as he watched you move around the kitchen, chattering about your day. you pulled his drink from the fridge, placing it on the table with a proud smile.  

“oh, and yeah—” you paused when you noticed his silence. “everything okay?”  

heeseung blinked, his thoughts catching up. “yeah,” he said, smiling softly.  

you squinted at him as you sat down across from him, serving portions of food onto both plates. “you’re giving me that look again, hee.”

“what look?”  

“like you’re trying to manipulate me or something,” you joked, though your cheeks warmed under his gaze.  

he laughed at your playful tone, leaning forward to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “you’re funny. but you know what? you do the same thing to me all the time. your eyes, your smile… even the little things about you make me forget everything else.”  

your heart raced at his words, your cheeks now burning. “you’re being so dramatic,” you mumbled, suddenly shy.  

“i’m not,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “everything i said is true.”  

heeseung picked up his chopsticks and started eating like he hadn’t just turned your heart racing so fast it felt like it might burst.  

as the night deepened, the two of you stayed like that—sharing food, laughter, and quiet moments where words weren’t necessary.  

later, you both found yourselves curled up on the couch, a soft blanket draped over you as you rested your head on his chest. the sound of his heartbeat matched the rhythm of your own, steady and comforting.  

later, as you lay curled up on the couch together, heeseung rested his chin on top of your head. “you know,” he murmured, “you’re everything i never knew i needed.”

you tilted your head to meet his gaze, his eyes full of love that left you breathless. “and you,” you whispered back, “are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

heeseung smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

and as you closed your eyes, you thought of the way he looked at you—like you were the only person in the world.

© lvzrii4 — do not copy, translate, and repost my work.

[princecharmingwinks]

Sterek Fic Rec - 2024

Guess who's backkkkk??? Ok so I know that I am late but only by like 4 days? So not too bad. Anyway! Welcome to Prince's 2024 Fic Rec List! I am now aiming to do a list every year (and more if we are lucky but let's not promise that hehe). As always here are my top 10 fics I read and a special bonus mention !

Perfect Star That Hid by thebigoblin (1/1 | 1K | Teen)

He turns his hand— It’s not bare, anymore. His wrist — it has a name. His soulmate’s name. He stares. And stares and stares because what the hell. This has to be a joke, right?

Last Christmas (I gave you my heart) by jadore_hale (1/1 | 4K | Teen)

“W-what is this?” Derek couldn’t even begin to get his mind around this current situation. “My Christmas gift to you, nephew.” Peter pushed the guy towards him, and Derek hastened to catch him before he fell face first on the floor. “I’d like you to meet your soul mate.” *** Derek's uncle Peter decides to get a little more creative this Christmas by finding Derek's soulmate and stuffing him in a box with a pretty bow on top.

Stiles Stilinski, Magical PI by suzvoy (1/1 | 21K | Mature)

Stiles is a Private Investigator, only not really. He's also magical, but only close up. One thing he's really good at is lusting over people from afar, which is why it's a problem when Laura Hale hires him to help her brother.

Wanted and Wounded by RoxyRosee (3/3 | 12K | Explicit)

Derek can't seem to get off. It's been days with no luck, and he's constantly on edge. But then pack night rolls around, and when Stiles falls into him as he goes to sit down on the couch, Derek is suddenly coming, right where he sits. Turns out, Stiles is his mate. And among a whole slew of embarrassing side effects to this whole "mate" thing is the fact that Derek will never again be able to have an orgasm without Stiles by his side. So yeah, Derek's life kind of sucks right now.

Welcome to the Jingle by Jmeelee (1/1 | 1K | Mature)

Derek could admit—only to himself, of course, never out loud—that he was a little desperate to make new holiday traditions with his (officially all adults now thank god) pack. But his ideas had run more along the lines of a cozy take-out dinner at his new apartment, an ugly sweater or white elephant party, or maybe volunteering at the local soup kitchen. It had not involved spending Christmas Eve at Jungle.

Hey Dad, Derek Hale Is In My Room. Bring Your Gun. by fairytalesandfolklore (1/1 | 767 | Teen)

Being the Sheriff's kid is hard enough. Having a seemingly over-protective father who's more concerned about your bad influence than your ex-murder-suspect werewolf boyfriend is so much worse.

"The point is, I'm an adult," he amends, heaving a weary sigh as he attempts to salvage whatever is left of his dignity. "I can make my own decisions, and I choose Derek. He makes me happy. He's a good guy. He treats me well. He looks out for me, keeps me safe. He's responsible and respectful and a complete gentleman, and I really think that if you just got to know him a little better, you'd really—" The Sheriff holds up a hand, effectively cutting Stiles off mid-ramble. "I like Derek just fine," he says, and the smile that spreads across his face is warm and genuine. "You do?" Stiles falters, completely thrown. "Wait, so then why—" The Sheriff's fond smile turns to one of wry amusement. "It's you I don't trust, Stiles," he says around a hearty chuckle. "I've raised you for 18 years, I know exactly what kind of mischief you're capable of. Wouldn't want you dragging that nice, respectable boy into any trouble."

The Hoodie by PersePhonesDreams (1/1 | 1K | General)

Stiles didn’t mean to keep Derek’s hoodie—really, he didn’t. But the oversized, ridiculously soft thing quickly became his favorite comfort item, a piece of Derek he couldn’t quite let go of. It’s not like Derek would notice anyway... right? When Derek unexpectedly shows up at Stiles’ window one quiet night, Stiles’ not-so-secret attachment to the hoodie is exposed, leading to a conversation that changes everything. Cue awkward confessions, teasing smiles, and the realization that maybe Derek doesn’t mind Stiles keeping more than just his hoodie.

Over the Hedge(witch) by rororowyourboat (1/1 | 7K | Teen)

Derek moves into a new house with Laura and he is flustered by the hot gardener next door who is always just slightly dirty.

And When I Wake You're There I'm Saved by suchfun (1/1 | 14K | Teen)

"Derek," Stiles says, firm. His hand is warm on Derek's shoulder. "I'll be okay." "You didn't leave me," Derek argues. "How can you expect me to leave you?" Stiles rolls his eyes. "Oh my god, it'll be fine. Even if I am captured, I'm just a boring human. They wanted you for your Lycan blood." Derek crosses his arms. Mainly so he doesn't wrap his hands around Stiles' throat in an attempt to throttle some sense into him. "That's fine. But this isn't a time when being a boring human is an asset. This is a time when being a boring human results in a shot to the head." "Derek," Stiles says again. He steps closer, so Derek is surrounded in his scent, his chemosignals—namely unwavering, resolute determination, distinctively sharp and entirely unbreakable—clouding Derek's mind. "You'll come back for me." He sounds so sure, and he can tell the exact moment Derek gives in. Because Derek somehow always gives in to Stiles. "I'll come back for you," he confirms. "And you better not be dead." Stiles grins, eyes sparkling with far too much humour for someone who potentially just sacrificed himself for a surly Lycan and bunch of strangers. "You do say the sweetest things."

Remember What's Lost by AMatchInWater (1/1 | 7K | Explicit)

Wild Hunt AU, Stiles gets taken and Derek instantly knows something is wrong with his memory, but just doesn't know what until Lydia calls him, begging for his help to get Stiles back because she thinks they have the strongest connection. When Derek saves Stiles he stops at nothing to finally get what's his.

princecharmingwinks special mention (this fic has a heck of a lot of emotions and when Derek fell to his knees, my heart broke. you gotta read it to find out why! don't worry I will never read or rec unhappy endings)

Horizons into Battlegrounds by AClosedFicIsNeverRead (1/1 | 15K | Explicit)

Derek has always kept his distance from Stiles, refusing to act on his instinctive desire for the pale, doe-eyed human. But at what cost? When circumstances reveal the horrors that Stiles has suffered due to Derek's self-imposed distance, will the Alpha be able to make it right before it's too late? ______________________________________________________ “Who are you to the pack?” the hunter asked. “I’m nobody.” Stiles answered plainly. And a harsh chill ran through Derek’s body. His breath caught in his throat because… because Stiles’ heart… it had remained steady. Stiles… actually believed that. Believed that he was ‘nobody.’ How could Stiles believe that?

That is all for 2024 my friends! Please remember to give kudos and leave comments for all our amazing Sterek writers. I know I'd be lost without you all. Thank you!

[yuikomorii]

AYAYUI IDOL AU: Chapter 1

// I present to you… MY FIRST EVER FANFIC! It’s inspired by these headcanons and these posts. As mentioned before, in this story, the Sakamakis are simply regular idols with a vampire-themed concept; they’re not actually vampires or related. Since I noticed how much you all enjoy this kind of content and have been so supportive, I thought you might like a fanfic based on it. ☺️

I’m by no means a professional writer, and my style leans more towards the visual novel/otome game format. Even so, I hope you’ll like it! 💕

Voice announcement: Ladies and gentlemen, we have now arrived at our destination.

Before you disembark, please take a moment to ensure you have all your personal belongings with you. For your safety, mind the gap between the train and the platform edge as you exit.

We sincerely thank you for choosing our services and travelling with us. It has been our pleasure to serve you, and we hope to welcome you aboard again soon. Take care!

Yui: ( Eh? Is this…—! )

— eyes widen —

I’m here… I’m finally here!

Yui’s Monologue

I can’t believe my dream is actually coming true! All this time, this seemed like a childish wish but right now I truly am in Tokyo…!

Uuh… I’m getting a bit emotional, but can you blame me? It simply feels… surreal.

I never thought my father would agree to let me join a work exchange program in such a massive and dynamic city.

To be honest, I was half expecting him to say no, but it seems he believes in me more than I thought.

Knowing that he trusts me this much… it really makes me want to work even harder to prove he made the right choice.

Yes, that’s so. I will try my best to make father proud!

— takes big breath —

Yui: Nice to meet you, Tokyo. Let’s make this journey one to remember.

Place: Studio

Photographer: And~… pose! Ah yes, exactly like that! Keep on, keep on!

Ayato: ( Man, this shit is so tiring at this point. )

— smiles falsely —

Photographer: W-Wonderful…! Another one, thank you!

— keeps taking pictures —

Ayato: ( Can this woman stop blinding me with that flashlight already? It’s past 11 pm… )

Photographer: Now, a profile sho——

Manager: Hold on.

Pardon my intrusion, but I believe we already have enough pictures for today. Don't you think so?

Photographer: Eh? But we just got star— Oh my, it’s almost 12 am!?

G-Geez, my apologies. I guess the saying “time flies when you’re having fun” must really apply here.

— winks at Ayato —

Ayato: ( Gross! )

Manager: If more promotional pictures are required, we can extend the photoshoot to tomorrow. Watanabe-san, would it be possible for you to arrive earlier if that is the case?

Photographer: With such eye candy around, who could resist spending more time with him~?

Fufu, just kidding. I'll contact the director and get back to you with an answer as soon as possible.

Until then, have a good night! Bye-bye~!

— leaves —

Ayato: Haa… thanks goodness! One more photo, and I might’ve completely lost it.

Manager: I understand completely. Given your schedule, it’s clear you’re quite overworked. Nevertheless, it’s impressive how you still manage to perform so well.

Ayato: Heh… thanks.

— rubs eyes —

Manager: You look a bit tired, Ayato-san. Rest assured, the limousine should be arriving soon.

Ayato: Right, the limo is on its——

( Fuck! I can’t believe I almost forgot about it! )

Wait! Now that I think about it, I’ve got something else to take care of.

So… don’t mind me! Go ahead and take the limo; I’ll call for another one later.

Manager: Haa… Ayato-san.

You're not planning to do something that could get you into trouble, are you?

Ayato: O-Of course not! It’s just… no, it’s nothing important. Just a silly little thing I remembered I had to solve.

— tries to leave —

Manager: Ayato-san!

Ayato: Huh?

Manager: Do NOT let anyone see you, understood?

— Ayato nods and leaves —

???: You’re late.

Ayato: …!

Man, you almost gave me a heart attack!

Laito: My bad~. You came prepared at least, didn’t you?

Ayato: Yeah, yeah.

— puts cap and mask on —

Laito: Nfu, let’s go, shall we?

Place: Street

Yui: Uuh… come on! Why is no taxi in sight?

( It’s been two hours and I still couldn’t find my way to the Airbnb. )

( I knew Tokyo was huge, but I wasn’t expecting the transportation system to be this complicated… )

— looks at sky —

( It’s already late, huh? )

( I wonder if it’s safe for a girl to roam on these streets at this hour. Well, at least I hope it is, otherwise… )

Place: Private Night Club

Laito: Two Cosmopolitans. One for me, and one for that very fine lady over there, nfu.

Ayato: Another glass of Tequila.

Laito: Heh, another one? Is this the fifth by chance?

Ayato: I had a busy week, okay?

Laito: Ah, of course you did. After all, our Ayato-kun is the IT boy of this generation. Always swamped with brand deals, while the rest of us barely get a crumb~.

Ayato: …Not funny.

Laito: C’mon, don’t take it too seriously.

— pats his back —

I doubt any of us could care less about brand deals anyway. The idol job already pays well enough, and with barely any time for ourselves, why would we want to give up even more of our freedom?

Ayato: ( It’s not like it’s my choice though. )

Well, I can’t deny that the love I get is cool and all, but sometimes… hmm, how do I put it? It feels like people only like me because I’m an idol, y’know?

Laito: That’s to be expected, isn’t it? Fans often form a one-sided connection with idols simply because we’re constantly visible and accessible through the media, without really knowing who we are or what we’re capable of.

On top of that, you’re the visual, the face everyone admires. Who wouldn’t be drawn to someone who's not only stunning but also famous? It’s like the perfect package for embodying every girl’s fantasy.

Ayato’s monologue

Laito… he always knows what to say.

Seriously, this guy is so aware of everything around him to the point that it’s becoming unsettling.

And the worst part? He’s not just talking—he’s right, which is why it almost hurts to hear it.

At the end of the day, we idols are just puppets, carefully crafted to feed into the fans’ delusions. They don’t see us for who we truly are, but rather as a fantasy they can cling to.

And we, caught in the spotlight, are forced to live out that role.

Before becoming an idol, I was surrounded by people who kept me around because of my looks. At first, the amount of attention felt good, but as I mature, I realize just how hollow that really is.

I can’t help but wonder… if it weren’t for my appearance or status, would anyone actually treat me nicely? Would anyone be willing to accept me, flaws and all?

Heh… now I just sound stupid. As long as I’m an idol, I doubt I’ll get my answer anytime soon.

Waitress: Here we go, gentlemen. The Cosmopolitan and the Tequila.

Laito: Hello, earth to Ayato-kun, are you still in there?

— waves in front of his eyes —

Ayato: Yeah, yeah. I was just spacing out a bit.

Laito: Nfu, cheers.

Ayato: Cheers.

— they start drinking —

Ayato: Ngh…!

( My chest… it started aching! )

Laito: Hm, you good?

Ayato: Y-Yeah… I just— Ngh!

( It’s getting worse! )

I need some fresh air, that’s all.

— quickly puts on mask and cap —

I’ll be right back.

— quickly goes outside —

( Haa… Haa… what is happening…!? )

Agh… fuck!

( It hurts…! Could this be…—— )

— eyes widen —

( No… No, don’t tell me this is a real heart attack! )

Hnn… Ngh!

( What… what should I do now!? )

???: Quick! Please, drink this!!

— hands him water —

Ayato: Huh…?

— takes it and starts drinking —

???: A-Are you feeling better? I got another bottle in case you need it too.

Ayato: Haa… Haa… It’s okay now, all good.

???: Are you sure…? You really seemed in a lot of pain.

Ayato: Yeah… no worries.

( This girl… she just saved my life, didn’t she? )

By the way, uhm… thanks for that.

???: A-Ah, it’s nothing, really.

As far as I recall from my father, drinking water after alcohol can help reduce chest pain and lessen the severity of a hangover. I’m glad to see that it actually works.

Ayato: Heck yeah, I’m glad to see that it worked too, otherwise who knows how I would have ended up.

— the girl giggles —

???: You should be more careful though. Drinking too much alcohol can be very dangerous.

Ayato: ( Okay, mom. )

Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’m not usually like that.

Moreover… why exactly did you help me?

???: Eh? What do you mean?

Ayato: ( Could it be that she actually recognized me? )

( My face is practically hidden behind the mask and cap, and we’re in the dark, so there’s no way she could have, right? But if she did… )

???: Uuh… I suppose it was out of pure instinct.

Ayato: Instinct, huh?

???: Yup. You see, I heard you struggling, so there was no way I could brush that off.

Ayato: Hmm… But wait a minute, what were you doing all alone at this hour?

( What if she’s a stalker then? )

???: Ah… uhm… T-That’s a bit embarrassing to say out loud.

Ayato: Oh, come on, you straight up saw me about to drop dead from drinking Tequila. There’s no way this could be more embarrassing than that.

???: Actually… today’s my first day in Tokyo, and I’ve been struggling for almost 3 hours just trying to get to my Airbnb.

I tried taking the subway, but there were way too many lines, and I got lost at some point.

As for taxis, every time I tried to flag one down, the driver just ignored me.

Ayato: ( Nevermind, I’m taking it back. This might truly be more embarrassing. )

Pfft, why didn’t you call for a cab then?

???: I couldn’t find any reliable number…

Ayato: Hmm… Alright then.

I just arranged one for you. You’ll just have to tell them your location and wait for them to get you there. There’s also no need for you to pay.

— lends her money —

???: E-Eh!? Thank you… thank you so much! But I’m sorry, I just can’t accept the money!

Ayato: Nah, it’s fine, seriously. After all, you’re the one who helped me first.

Just promise me you won’t tell anyone about what happened today. Understood?

— the girl nods —

Ayato: Heh, great. Well, I guess it was nice to meet you. Now it’s time for me to return.

???: W-Wait! I forgot to catch your name!

Ayato: …!

( So she really doesn’t know me? )

It’s——

( No… it’s too risky. )

Oh look, the cab arrived! You should hurry up!

???: But—

( He left…? )

Yui’s monologue

As the taxi started moving, I found myself looking back, almost subconsciously, hoping to catch one last glimpse of that boy.

Today had been exhausting, but despite the strange circumstances in which we met, those brief minutes spent with him were oddly comforting.

I wonder who he is and what his life is like. It feels a bit silly, I know, to be thinking so much about someone whose name I don’t even know.

But there was something in his presence that made me feel in a way I haven’t felt in a long time.

Whatever it was, it stuck with me, lingering in my thoughts even after we parted ways.

My journey has only just begun, and yet I can’t shake the feeling that meeting him was no coincidence.

I really hope I get the chance to cross paths with him again.

[nosyp]

Hii could we possibly get a smut w Cho Hyun-Ju x f!reader where were basically a person who loves to joke around n chill w everybody else but when it comes to Hyun, we get all distracted, stutter around her, n js listen to everything she says not even realizing that we have a crush on her until someone brings it up n were like “oh crap wtf im being weak😥” which causes us to avoid her n be in denial of having feelings cuz we wanna seem focused n nonchalant which everyone notices especially her n that causes her to corner us n lead to smth spicy? Pls n thank u!!

THIS IS SO GOOOODDDD!! I'm so sorry but errrr I'm trying to figure myeslf out rn so not much smut 😔😔😔😔😔

Title = Flustered and Fallen

Warnings = mdni, kissing, touching, smut interrupted by guard sorry hehe🥺

Pairing = Cho Hyun Ju x fem!reader

Summary = You're confident around everyone, except Hyun-Ju. When you realize you have feelings for her, you start avoiding her. But Hyun-Ju won't let you hide anymore, and things get more intense when she corners you one day.

Word count = 1.5k

You were the kind of person who could easily get along with just about anyone. Your relaxed attitude and carefree nature made you a natural at making friends. A well-timed joke here, a playful comment there, everyone loved how effortlessly you could lighten the mood. The other players would often gravitate toward you, laughing at your banter or joining in on the fun. You could talk about anything and everything, and no matter the chaos of the games, your personality never once changed. But that was before she came into the picture.

It started to shift when Player 120, Hyun-Ju, entered the room. At first, you told yourself it was nothing. She was just another player, just another person to interact with. But then, it happened. The moment her gaze met yours, something inside you flipped and you found yourself stumbling over your words, losing track of sentences mid-conversation. Where you usually spoke effortlessly, now you fumbled, feeling like an idiot each time she looked at you.

"H-hey," you tried to joke, but instead it came out broken up and stuttered. "Don't te… tell me you're gonna– gonna be the quiet one in this group? You got–gotta keep up with all the st– stuff happening! Or else you'll be left behind."

But as soon as she turned her head toward you, her lips curling into the faintest of smiles, you suddenly felt heat rush to your face. Why was this so hard? Why was your usual confidence suddenly evaporating?

"Maybe I'm just waiting for you to catch up," she teased, her voice calm yet somehow sent shivers up your spine.

You tried to laugh it off, but all you could manage was a nervous chuckle, blinking awkwardly as you avoided her gaze. It was her. Her presence. It made everything feel different. You’d quickly become aware of how much you started paying attention to the way she spoke, the way her posture shifted. Every time she moved, you couldn't stop watching her.

Even when you were surrounded by others, your mind would drift back to her. You'd notice how effortlessly she handled herself in the games, how she made every action seem so smooth, and how you couldn't seem to focus when she was near. Unlike the playful, relaxed version of yourself you showed everyone else, with Hyun-Ju, you were clumsy. Awkward even. You couldn’t even make eye contact for more than a second without feeling your chest tighten.

One day, after another awkward moment where you fumbled a sentence in front of her, your friend nudged you with a grin. "You good, [Y/N]?" he asked, eyeing your flushed face. "You look like you're about to pass out every time Hyun-Ju speaks."

"Wh-what?" you stammered, shaking your head. "I'm fine, just—" You trailed off, trying to brush it off like it was nothing. You glanced at Hyun-Ju quickly, who was talking to someone else. The sight of her made your heart race again.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your act. "Come on, I’ve never seen you act like this before. You’ve got a thing for her, don’t you?"

Your throat went dry, and you could feel your heart start to pound harder. "No, no! I don’t—" you sputtered, but it was too late. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, hard. You did. You had a crush on Hyun-Ju. You weren’t sure when it happened, but now that it had settled in your mind, it was all you could think about. Your attempts to deny it only made things worse, making you avoid her more.

It didn’t take long for others to start noticing, either. You went out of your way to be anywhere but near Hyun-Ju, trying to appear uninterested. But every time she walked into the room, you found yourself stiffening, words faltering, and cool exterior melting.

“[Y/N]?” a voice cut through your thoughts. It was Hyun-Ju’s voice, calm as usual. You froze, immediately standing up to look anywhere but at her. “Everything okay?”

You forced a smile, trying your best to act like you were just as unaffected as you always had been. "Yeah, just—just thinking."

But Hyun-Ju was no fool. She saw right through your act, and a smirk tugged at her lips. "You’ve been acting strange lately. Is it something I did?" Her tone was teasing, but there was something in her eyes that made you shiver, an unreadable look that seemed to look straight through you.

Your heart raced, and your mouth went dry. “I— uh— I’m fine," you managed, turning away quickly to avoid her gaze. You didn’t know how to handle this. You didn’t want to admit it, but being near her made you feel weak, and you hated it. You hated how powerless she made you feel.

Hyun-Ju seemed to notice your discomfort, and the intensity in her eyes shifted. There was a hint of amusement now, mixed with something else. Something more dangerous. She leaned closer, her voice dropping low. 

“You can’t hide it forever, you know. I know what you’re feeling, and I don’t mind.” Her breath was warm against your ear, and your breath caught in your throat. Then she got even closer. “In fact, I actually like it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It was too much. Too intense. You needed to get away.

“I’m just... I’m just focused on the game,” you stammered, attempting to walk away quickly. But Hyun-Ju’s hand caught your wrist, her grip firm but not painful. “Don't think you can run away from this, [Y/N]. Not now.”

And in that moment, you realized you were in deep. She wasn’t going to let you pretend any longer.

—

Fuck. How did you get into this situation? Somehow you were now sharing a stall with her.

“I– I– don’t know why I act weird around you okay?!” you say, trying to give excuses for your weird behaviour. 

“You sure? Everyone else seems to notice and you know why.” she says, continuing to pressure you for answers. “I’m not here for your excuses.”

You felt the walls closing in on you, heart racing in your chest. Her gaze was unrelenting, eyes narrowing as she stepped closer, her presence so overwhelming it made your breath get stuck in your throat.

"I–I don't know what you want me to say..." you stammer, feeling your confidence slowly slipping away under her intense stare. The space between you two was so tight now, your skin prickling with the closeness.

"You don't know?" she murmured, her voice soft but with an edge that made your body tense. "You really don't know why you're acting like this?"

You couldn't meet her gaze. You wanted to look away, to step back, but your feet seemed frozen to the ground. She moved again, just an inch from you now, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, "I think you do."

Her hand brushed against yours, fingers barely grazing your skin, and you couldn't stop the shiver that ran down your spine. The heat between you two was almost suffocating, and every inch of your body screamed to close the gap.

But instead, you froze. What was she waiting for? What did she expect from you?

Your eyes were starting to hurt, maybe from the light above, maybe from the tears you were holding back. You didn’t know. 

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a pair of lips suddenly being pressed against yours. The kiss was so tender… so loving. Were you going crazy? Maybe you were. Involuntarily, you leaned into the kiss, further deepening it, letting you taste her tongue as she tasted yours. Then, she pulled away, ending your sweet moment.

"You're not like the others, y’know…" she murmured, her voice low and soft. With every single word, you felt like you were going even crazier. "You make me want to do things I haven’t done in a long time."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words. Was she… was she admitting something? Or was this another game? You couldn’t be sure, but the way she looked at you told you everything you needed to know.

"I…" Your voice cracked, the words slipping out of your mouth before you could stop them. "I don’t know what it is about you, but I can’t stop thinking about you." you finally admitted. 

She only lets out a chuckle until she lets her lips crash onto yours again. She sucks, nibbles on your lip as her hands roam around your body. The warmth of her touch was solicitous, showing how much she loved you. 

Almost automatically, you started leaning into her touch more, eager to feel more of her. The heat in your body gradually increases the more you feel her fingertips dragging around your body.  

Then– the door slams open and reveals a pink guard. Fuck no.

“Player 120. Player [number]. Come out. Time is up.”

[thewritetofreespeech]

First Bite

summary: after the incident at the brothel, Aegon sends his brother a gift to make amends. but who would want an apple after someone has already taken a bite?

tags: aemondxf!reader, fingering, hand job, m!oral, virgin bedding, brothel worker, aemond being kind of a bully but it's just aemond really, references to madam sylvi, mild references to voyeurism.

-------------------------------⚔️--------------------------------

You weren’t sure what you were supposed to be doing. Should you lay down? Sit alluringly amongst the furs? Should you be sitting at all?

It was your first time doing this, which seemed unbelievable for a woman who worked in a brothel. But everyone had to start somewhere, right? It had to be the first time some time. Yours was supposed to be some weeks from now. Madam Sylvi selecting your maiden bid date and starting to pass the word around to her most loyal, valued customers that you would be on the docket soon. The chatter was quite electric. Maiden bids, to be a lady’s first time, were highly sought after. Even in brothels. It had been sometime since the Madam had had one for a new girl; or a girl that was untouched.

Yet, despite the anticipation, the Madam appeared in your room one night and let you know that your services were needed. Next thing you knew you had been dressed in some of your finest attire and whisked away into the night for parts unknown. Coming to realize after your blindfold was removed that you were in the palace.

In the quiet dark you sit patiently. Picking at the sheer fabric of your dress. An odd whisper of cloth that covered yet left nearly all revealed. It was meant to be enticing and did nothing for the chill in the air. Perhaps you could wrap yourself in a blanket quickly. You could look alluring in a blanket, right? Surely blue skin was not appealing at all.

Suddenly, the doors open. The loud bang of the heavy wood startling you as your pulse quickened. The rush of adrenaline warming you up quickly.

A man came into the room as the doors closed behind him. His pace slowing as his gaze landed on you, the stranger in his bed. “How are you?”

“I…I uh…” You forget your own name for a moment as you stare back at the hard, fierce looking face of Aemond Targaryen. You recognize him from his visits to the Madam. Suddenly recognizing the gravity of the situation of her sending you here and what personal request might have had you brought to him.

Quickly, you remember your name and give it to him. Along with a note the Madam had given you before your departure.

The prince studied you for a moment with his single sharp eye, before he stepped forward quick to snatch the note from your hand and read it. “A gift from my brother.” He summarized with a sneer. “An apology. He sent you to me?”

“I…I don’t know…” Truly, you did not know until this moment under what circumstances brought  you here.

There was a sharp, quick sound of heavy boots across the floor, and suddenly your face was in Aemond’s large hand. Gripping it hard as he turned it up towards him. “And I am supposed to be impressed with this? Thrown his scraps and say thank you.” His fingers dig into your cheek hard enough to cause tears to prick at your eyes. “Who would want an apple after someone has already taken a bite?”

“N-No on has taken a bite, your grace.” Your words are muddled through the forced pucker of your lips, but the prince seemed to understand enough to let you go. You look up at him cautiously before explaining further. “Madam Sylvi selected me specifically for that reason, your grace.”

Aemond examined you again. Seeming to look for any hesitation or tick of a lie. “She did, did she?” You nod your head fervently. “And no one has touched you?” You shook your head.

He examined you again. This time more than just your face as he looked you up and down. His face was placid. His expression hard to read as you were taught because he barely had any. “Alright.” He finally said. “Turn around.”

You blink in confusion but then slowly turn your back on the prince. You stare at the intricate design of the headboard in the dark as you hear the rustle of clothing & buckles behind you. The bed shifts. You force yourself to stay put and cautiously to look over your shoulder to see what was going on. Stiff and frightened, as if looking back might turn you into a stone.

It does not, however, and the prince is now sitting beside you in the bed. His back against the headboard and pillows. His eye patch gone to reveal his sapphire catching the low light in the dark. Naked. “You are untouched but not untrained, I take it?” You nod again slowly. “Well then, get to work.”

You gulp softly and slowly crawl over to the prince’s side of the bed. Aemond was correct. You were untouched but not untrained. Madam Sylvi would not send her girls out into the world unprepared. Their safety and her reputation depended on client satisfaction. You had been trained in all manner of ways to please a man. Conversation, music, and of course your body. Every man is different, she told you once, what they need can change as quick as the wind blows. You must be prepared, she said.

As you get closer, the prince parted his legs, and you can tell what he needs now. Carefully you reach out to grasp him. Shy and tentative. His cock was limp but stirring at the touch of your hand. It was warmer than the marble phalluses you had to practice on. More malleable too. “You really are untouched, aren’t you?”

You turn to look at the prince at his question, that was not really a question, and blush in shame. “Am I…not doing it right?”

“No.” Disappointment filled you at his harsh criticism. “Your hand is clumsy, and too soft.” The prince sighed through his nose and pushed his hair back. “Try your mouth.”

Your blush deepened and eyes went a little wide at the blunt request. But you had been trained for this. You should feel lucky that he even asked instead of just shoving your head down there like some clients did with the girls.

Grasping the partially aroused shaft at the base you adjusted yourself down until you were eye to eye with it. The first cock you would have in your mouth. You gulp again and carefully flick out your tongue to lick the tip. Nothing happened. You do it again and again, nothing changes. So you wrap your lips around it fully and give it a suckle.

“You’re clumsy at this too.” Aemond criticized again by the time you fit most of it in your mouth. “You probably can’t even take all of me. And you don’t even know what to do with your teeth.” You whimper pathetically. Feeling ashamed and embarrassed. “What manner of whore will you make if you can’t even do this?”

You pulled back from the prince’s member. All wet and breathy. Not nearly as demure as the other girls made it look. “Do you wish me to stop…your grace?”

He looked at you for a long moment. His head lulling to the side to look at you with his good eye. “I didn’t say that.”

There was a flutter in your chest and stomach. Something that shouldn’t be there for a woman whose manner of profession this is, but you couldn’t help it. You lower your mouth back down on his member and get to work again. “You need practice.” The prince told you. His hand reaching out to brush the hair from your face. Pushing it to the side so he could get a better view. “But you’re not…terrible.” The small hitch in his breath as he spoke filled you with glee. Almost as much as the praise.

Joining your hand with your mouth you continue to work over the prince’s cock. It was incredibly hard now. Much like the marble you had practiced with. You taste salt and musk on your tongue, which you have been told is a sign a man is near climax, and you weren’t sure what to do. Were you supposed to pull back? Just use your hand to keep going. Should you ask?

It was a moot point as not long after the hint of salt hit your tongue the full wave burst against it. Your mouth quickly overloaded with cock and cum. It caught you by surprise. You weren’t sure what to do, so you just swallowed.

“Did you swallow that?” The prince asked as you pulled away from his cock. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Well…it seemed rude to spit it out, your grace.” Aemond scoffed at your bashful honesty but smirked.

“Lie down.” You do as you are told, and the prince came over to your side of the bed now. Looming over you in the dark. “Spread your legs.” You do as you are told again. The sheer fabric of your dress falling between them before Aemond pushed it aside and exposed your apex. “Sylvi taught me a few things as well.” Your breath caught and back arched a little as his fingers brushed against you. Soft at first. Then one long, thin digit sliding in.

“You really are untouched, aren’t you?” The prince seemed surprised as his finger worked inside you. “You can lie about your skills and be a poor actor, but you cannot lie about this.” You whine as another finger slid inside you to stretch.

“I…I wouldn’t lie your grace…”

Aemond scoffed. “Please. Your profession is lying.” You whimper and squirm as his thumb brushed against the bundle at the top of your sex. “But you cannot lie to me.”

His fingers continued to please you. The wet slick of your sex running out. Your breath quickening. Your nipples hard and pointed against the sheer fabric. You dare not look at the prince as your eyes twisted shut in pleasure. “Spread your legs wider.”

You force your eyes open. Looking at the prince and his hard body between your knees. The terrifying hard lines softening in your mind at the warm feelings swirling in your body to think of alabaster in the light. You shift your legs further apart and Aemond slid further into them. “Don’t be afraid.” He told you. You weren’t sure why. Maybe because so many people were afraid of him.

The head of his cock kiss your entrance, then pushed in past your opening. It hurt, but Madam Sylvi had prepared you for this. It hurt much less than you expected since Aemond had opened you; a blessing most women at their first did not receive. Still his member was much larger than his fingers and there was a burning stretch as he entered you fully.

“You’re a woman now.” The prince told you once he was fully seated in your cunny. “How does it feel?”

“G-Good…” Men liked to hear that it felt good.

“Liar.”

The prince pulled back and thrust into you. You yip at the pain of the movement, but it continues. A burning pain but not entirely unpleasant. The longer it goes on the less of the pain there was. You grip on to Aemond’s shoulder and try to roll your hips back against him. It was clumsy, like the rest of your practice, but he at least groans. “How does it feel now?”

“Good…” You weren’t lying this time or playing it up for his benefit. “Good your grace.”

“Good.”

He kissed you, which was not something you were supposed to do. Kissing was for lovers. Brothels were for sex. That was what you were told. But when a prince wants to kiss you, you have to abide, right? What the client wants after all….

You let go of Aemond lips with a moan as you felt his fingers on your nub again. “Have you ever cum before?”

“Y-Yes…mhm!” Part of your training was to be versed in your own pleasure. Though you were untouched there were other ways you could make money for the brothel. Self-pleasure shows were quite popular with some men. Eager to watch and pleasure themselves with their own hands.

“Has a man ever made you cum?”

“N-No.”

“Then I will be your first for that as well.”

His cock and fingers continue to ravage your sex. Overwhelming you with pleasure. Your writhe and buck against Aemond despite yourself. Awash in ecstasy before the seas finally crash on your body as you tremble violently. “My prince!”

There was a grunt from Aemond before his hips finally stopped. In your fog you feel something warm & wet spill out of you onto the fine bedding. His seed inside you. Would you get pregnant? You heard there were girls in the past who his brother had ruined this way. That they were carried off to parts unknown with their Waters. You were suddenly afraid. Would that happen to you?

“Do you know how you are getting back?” Aemond suddenly asked you.

Your thoughts return to the present and you realize that you are done. The prince sat with his legs off the side of the bed with his back partially towards you. His good eye on the opposite side.

You nod but realize he can’t see you. “Yes, your grace. I do.” There was a panel outside the hall you were to return to. Your escort was to be waiting there for you to take you back to the Streets of Silk and back home to Madam Sylvi.

The prince gave a grunt and sat there for a moment before he stood. “See to it that you are gone when I return.” He then walked naked into another room through another hidden panel, and you were alone again. The room suddenly felt colder than it had before all this.

Gathering yourself, you come off the bed with a little hop and wince at the pain between your legs. Nothing you couldn’t manage but noticeable. You then make your way back towards the secret panel, let yourself be blindfolded, and escorted home. When the blindfold was removed you were back in the warm low light of the brothel with the Madam standing there in front of you.

“How was it my dear?” She asked as she handed you a warm cup.

“It was…fine.” You tell her. Taking the cup and drinking it.

“Good girl. Discretion is the better part of our service.” She told you. “Now, drink your Tea and get a bath. You will have the morrow to rest and prepare. You will be on the docket come six suns pass.”

As you looked into your tea cup you now realized this was your life. Taking men into your service. Taking men into your body. You knew that before you came here but it all seemed so real now. You felt overwhelmed. You felt you might cry.

“Madam.”

The lady in question turned when a new man appearance in their enclave. Dressed as a pauper but doing a poor job of it. He handed the Madam a note and then left as quickly as he had appeared.

Madam Sylvi read the note, scoffed, and then seemed a little miffed as she turned to you. “Well, it seems your training was not all for naught.” She told you. “Prince Aemond has requested that you be his private paramour moving forward. How nice.”

“Private?”

“It means you will be the highest paid, least working woman in my employee, girl.” The Madam clipped and crumpled the note before throwing it into the fire. “Just don’t forget who got you here.” She then left with a flourish of her cloaks. Leaving you alone with your tea and a bath and presumably to get some rest.

You just stood there dumbfounded.

You were to be Aemond’s private paramour now? All of a sudden? The only one you knew him to frequent was the Madam herself, hence her ire. You grip your teacup and down the rest of it fully. While your stomach still had the nerve.

A tenday later you were dressed in another fine, sheer garment, waiting in a private room of the brothel when the prince arrived. “I’ve come to further your training.” He said as he took off his belt. “Let’s get started.”

[isaadore]

JACKED AND KIND NICO HISCHIER

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ pairing nico hischier x reader

SUMMARY you convince nico to do a tiktok trend, even if it’s a little out of his comfort zone. word count 0.7k

warnings pure fluff, fem!reader, use of y/n

note i hope you guys know what trend i'm referring too 😇

MAIN MASTERLIST NH13 MASTERLIST

IT STARTED WITH a lazy morning and the familiar routine of scrolling through TikTok. One particular trend kept popping up: boyfriends effortlessly lifting their girlfriends while Sabrina Carpenter’s “Slim Pickings” played at the line, “Jacked and kind.” It was sweet and oddly endearing.

You couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect that would be with Nico.

It wasn’t like the world didn’t already know about your relationship. Between games, post-practice dates, and subtle Instagram posts, it was all out there. A quick, harmless TikTok would be a fun way to keep things interesting.

You walked into the kitchen, still in your pyjamas. You were immediately hit with the smell of coffee and pancakes. Nico was standing at the counter in his sweats, carefully stirring sugar into his mug. His hair was messy from sleep, and his movements were slow and relaxed.

“Morning, liebe (love),” he greeted, glancing over his shoulder with a soft smile.

“Morning,” you replied, leaning against the doorframe. For a moment, you debated whether to bring up your idea. Nico was still half-asleep and probably enjoying the peace of a rare day off. Did you really want to disrupt that?

Then again, Nico always had a hard time saying no to you.

“So,” you started, dragging out the word as you stepped closer.

He turned, raising an eyebrow at you with a knowing look already on his face. “What’s that tone?”

“There’s this TikTok trend,” you explained, trying to sound casual.

He groaned softly, though his smile didn’t waver. “Of course, there is.”

“You’d just have to pick me up. Literally for two seconds,” you added quickly, holding up your hands like you were presenting a deal. “No weird costumes or anything. Just you being, you know, jacked and kind.”

Nico paused, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the counter. “And why do I feel like this will end with me looking like an idiot?”

“Because you’re dramatic,” you said playfully. “Come on, it’ll be cute!”

He sighed, shaking his head. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“Pretty much.” You grinned, batting your eyelashes for good measure.

“Fine,” he relented, setting his mug down with a resigned laugh. “But only because I know you’ll keep bugging me until I say yes.”

“Thank you!” you exclaimed, already setting up your phone on the counter.

After breakfast, Nico followed through with the plan, though he grumbled a bit.

“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” he asked, running a hand through his hair as you positioned him in front of the camera.

“Obviously,” you replied, stepping back to check the angle. “Okay, so when I point, you just pick me up. Nice and smooth, like it’s nothing.”

“I’m a professional athlete, Y/N,” he said, smirking. “I think I can handle lifting my girlfriend.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the warmth spreading across your cheeks. “Alright, Captain Confidence. Let’s see if you can back that up.”

The music started and the familiar beat of Sabrina Carpenter’s “Slim Pickings” filled the kitchen. You pointed right on cue, and before you could blink, Nico’s arms were around you. With a single motion, he lifted you off the ground like it was the easiest thing in the world, holding you securely on his shoulder.

“Jacked and kind,” you whispered, half-laughing as you wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“Was that it?” he asked, his grin smug but soft. “That’s all you needed?”

You nodded, laughing. “Yup! Perfect! Put me down before I ruin it.”

He lowered you carefully, his hands lingering. “That’s it?” he repeated, tilting his head. “You were stressing about that?”

“It’s not about me. It’s about the aesthetic,” you shot back, picking up your phone to check the video.

The result was flawless. Nico looked effortlessly strong, the timing was perfect, and your quiet laugh at the end made it even better.

“See?” you said, holding the phone up for him to see. “Jacked and kind. TikTok is going to lose it.”

He shook his head, his cheeks faintly pink, but he was smiling. “As long as you’re happy, that’s what matters.”

“Always,” you teased, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Though Nico pretended to roll his eyes, you knew he’d secretly check the comments later to see what fans were saying.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ MAIN MASTERLIST ✷ NH13 MASTERLIST

[chdarling]

As we’re getting closer to a truly awful day for America, I just wanted to check in on you. Things are bleak and about to get so so much worse, I want you to know I’m here and many others are here too when you’re ready

This is very kind of you, thank you. Honestly, I have not been doing great. Watching my neighbors elect a racist, fascist, Nazi-loving rapist triggered a pretty bad depressive episode on top of what was already the worst period of professional and creative burnout of my life, so….I’m struggling. Still trying to claw my way out of the dark. I’m deeply appreciative of the kindness of this community and am sorry that I haven’t (and probably won’t for a little longer) been able to engage the way I once did. I will again one day, and I am so thankful to know all you wonderful people online. <3

On a note that is completely unrelated to this gentle ask, I’ve been getting a ton of messages lately asking for a date when TLE3 is coming out and I don’t feel up to answering them (sorry) so I’m just going to tack this on here since I buried my last post on the subject under a mountain of despair reblogs: TLE3 is going to take a while.

I’m still planning to continue with my writing projects (be they TLE or other things), but right now I’m focusing on securing my own oxygen mask, etc. When I finished posting TLE2, I said that I would be taking a break and also that I would not be posting TLE3 until I had written all of it (like I had for TLE1). Even if I had been writing diligently every single day since I posted the last chapter, I still wouldn’t be done, so please understand that it’s going to take a while. It certainly will not be coming in the next 6 months, very possibly not in 2025. I know some people won’t be happy to hear that, but just a fun statistic: OOTP has 257,045 words and took three years to write/publish after GOF. TLE2 has (and this makes me cringe a little) 407,079 words and took roughly 3 years to write as an unpaid side hobby on top of full time work, education, etc. I don’t say this to toot my own horn (frankly, it just makes me desperately want to retroactively edit the crap out of TLE2 lol), but rather to reiterate that writing a book-length work takes a lot of time, energy, and love. I don’t want it to take 3 years (and I don’t think it will, TLE3 will be a more reasonable length), but it’s certainly not going to be finished in a few months. That would be insanity and I am not that talented lmao.

I do know that the requests for updates come from a place of love and enthusiasm and excitement and I really, truly appreciate that. I also appreciate all of the kind words of the asks I haven’t been answering. Please know that I’ve read them, I love you, and I will be back eventually. I just have to focus on my health right now, and unfortunately these days being online is pretty bad for that, so I'm going to try to be logged off for a while.

And finally, on another completely unrelated but perhaps mildly tangential note: if anyone has any books recommendations or resources on processing climate grief, I, uh, could use them. 🫠