#it does not help that before i went home for the summer i went to an arcade and all /i/ did was play rhythm games... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fallinforgyu · 4 months

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steamroller

pairing: mingi/fem!reader

genre: childhood best friends to lovers, college au, angst, smut - minors do NOT interact

warnings: no dom/sub dynamic, unrequited love, mutual loss of virginity, mingi has a massive cock, fingering, oral sex (f. recieving)

word count: 10k

a/n: i want to be honest with you guys, this is not a comeback. this is just a little fic that i’ve been working on for the past year or so that has brought me a lot of comfort, and i hope that it can do the same for you. i’m not sure if i’ll ever be active on this blog like i used to be, but please know that i will always be a writer and i will always read every single comment, reblog, and note that is sent to me. thank you for being my readers. i love you all so so dearly <3

“Hey, Mingi,” Yunho asked, staring at his distorted reflection in the back of a flimsy dining hall spoon, “Have you ever eaten a girl out before?”

“W-What the fuck?” Mingi choked on his homemade sandwich. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Because I want to go down on my girl on our next date…” he dropped the spoon on his tray, frowning as it clanged. “We’ve already fucked but I think it’ll be a nice way to show her I really care, you know? But I’ve never done it before.”

“Wait-” Mingi dropped his voice to a whisper, leaning forward across the table. “You’ve had sex before?”

“You haven’t?” Yunho grinned.

“Of course I haven’t, asshole! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Yunho shrugged. “Guess I just didn’t think it was that important. What time’s your next class?”

“I’m done with classes for the day,” Mingi crumbled the tin foil that previously held his sandwich into a ball. “Yours is at 2:30, right?”

The older boy nodded and the two stood up, making their way to the nearest trash can.

“Besides,” Yunho placed his tray on top of a growing stack of them while Mingi threw away his brown paper bag. “I thought you would’ve already fucked that girl you’re always with by now. What was her name again?”

Mingi’s eyes widened as your name slipped past Yunho’s lips. “Sh!” he hissed, looking over his shoulder. “I told you to stop asking about her. She doesn’t like me like that.”

“But you haven’t even tried!”

“Yes, I have!”

“Giving her a warm Tootsie Roll that had been sitting in your pocket all day does not count as trying.”

“But I gave it to her on Valentine’s Day!” Mingi whined. “That counts for something, right?”

He reluctantly met Yunho’s eyes, groaning when he saw his friend’s lips pressed into a thin line and his head shaking.

“You’ve gotta just tell her, dude. You’re never gonna know if you don’t try.”

He knew Yunho was right. If he ever wanted anything to change, he’d have to talk to you. Otherwise, he’d spend his entire life wondering what would’ve happened if he would’ve just had the balls to tell you.

He’d do it today, he decided, when he met you at your usual spot to walk back to your dorms together. That way, he could just run home if you said you didn’t feel the same way! Perfect plan.

Mingi wiped his hands on his pants as he walked to your usual meeting spot, attempting to calm himself down and hype himself up at the same time.

He was really going to do it now; he was going to spill his heart out and hope that you somehow ended up in his arms. He’d start with how he’d loved you since you were kids when you took swim lessons with him at the community pool. You jumped right in the water when he was too afraid to duck his head underneath, and he remembered wanting to be brave like you. He loved you in middle school when you noticed him struggling with his math homework and offered to help. He loved you when you introduced him to Yunho, your friend from the student council who would end up becoming his best friend. And he loved you two years later, when he read your summer reading book aloud to you because staring at the pages made you sleepy.

He loved you last year when you went to prom together, even when you made a point of announcing to the rest of your group that the two of you were “Just really good friends.”

Oh, well. He loved you when he gave you that Tootsie Roll three months ago, too.

And he loved you now, when he approached you slowly and timidly, waving his hand to get you to look up from your phone.

“Oh, hi,” you grinned, pulling the earbuds out of your ears.

“Hi,” he smiled.

“How was… how was your day?” You asked the same question you always asked when you saw him, but it sounded different this time. It was like an exhale; Like you were breathing the words instead of speaking them. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought you were nervous.

“Good,” he nodded, gripping the straps of his backpack.

“Good!” You repeated, clasping your hands together. “So…”

He braced himself to say it. I’m in love with you. I have been ever since we were kids. I don’t want to be your friend, I want to kiss you.

But you spoke first, and you said, “I think we should have sex.”

He thought that he was having a stroke. He thought that you were having a stroke. “W-what did you say?”

“Hear me out,” you waved your hands and closed your eyes. “We’re the last virgins in our friend group, right? And everyone thinks we’ve already fucked, anyway. So we could just do it together and get it over with so that it’s not as big of a deal when we do it with other people!”

“I don’t…” His face felt like it was on fire. His stomach burned, and his palms were even sweatier than before. Get it over with?

You sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped that on you so fast. I’ve just been thinking about it for a few weeks now, and…”

Your voice turned into a murmur in the back of his mind as he analyzed your words. Been thinking about it for weeks now? Thinking about…

“But you don’t have to decide now, okay? I just wanted to see if you would be up for it.”

He slowly blinked and nodded back like an idiot. “O-okay. Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

You nudged his shoulder with yours as you stood up to walk home with him, down the streets of the campus that had been home to you for the past nine months. “And there’s no pressure, alright? You can say I’m gross and you see me like a sister and I won’t be mad,” you laughed.

You’re beautiful. I want you to be my girlfriend.

“I’ll think about it,” he repeated.

“Cool,” you nodded. “How’d that stats test go?”

You felt sick when you tried to go to sleep that night, nauseated with the thought that you might’ve just ruined everything.

You didn’t mean for it to come out so fast. You didn’t mean to make him embarrassed. You only meant to present the idea to him; a sort of business proposal that would benefit the both of you before you went back home for the summer.

None of your friends were virgins anymore. Only you and Mingi were left, and you’d known each other the longest, anyway.

You turned in bed to stare at the pictures of the two of you taped to the collage on your wall. He stood next to you in a cheap rental tuxedo at prom, his mouth pulled into a gummy smile and his arm linked with yours. In another picture, he stood three inches away from you at your middle school graduation, a reminder of the awkward phase the two of you went through when you realized that he was a boy and you were a girl.

But there were pictures from before that time, too, like the one of the two of you covered in nasty, artificially-colored green frosting from the cake at Mingi’s Incredible Hulk-themed birthday party in 2005. Or the two of you dressed up as Cosmo and Wanda from Fairly Odd Parents for Halloween in fourth grade.

Your oldest friend. The person who’d seen you through every phase of your life – even your emo phase in seventh grade – and stuck by you nonetheless.

You thought of his full lips and his broad shoulders, his big hands. He was handsome, there was absolutely no arguing that, but he was also kind and gentle and sweet. He was always the first to notice when something was wrong and the last to believe you when you told him you were fine.

Being his lover would be amazing, but not if it meant you couldn’t be his friend anymore. You wouldn’t fall unless he asked you to because losing him wasn’t an option.

You’d tell him tomorrow to forget it. That it was stupid, and you changed your mind.

Mingi told Yunho about it at lunch the next day.

“She talked to me yesterday,” he mumbled, picking the peel off of a clementine.

“And? What’d she say?” Yunho leaned forward, anticipating Mingi’s answer.

“She wants to fuck me.”

Yunho let out a laugh of disbelief. “Don’t play with me right now.”

“She does! She said, and I quote, ‘I think we should have sex.’”

“Well,” Yunho chuffed, “There you go, buddy! I told you all you had to do was talk to her!”

Mingi knew he didn’t really talk to you. He knew he just listened (well, half-listened, half daydreamed about what losing his virginity to you would be like) while you gabbed on about how it was a win-win situation.

But Yunho seemed so happy… No, proud of him. His validation made Mingi feel good – like this was the right decision.

“So, when are you going to do it?” Yunho squeezed a gluttonous amount of ketchup on his dry chicken patty.

Mingi stared at his Ziploc bag of slightly brown apple slices. “Well… I haven’t really told her I’d do it yet.”

“What? Why not?”

“I just didn’t know if it was right…”

“The girl that you’ve been in love with since you were a kid wants to give you her virginity and take yours at the same time, and you don’t know if it’s right?”

Mingi smiled. “Yeah… I know.”

“Tell her today. I bet you’ll do it before you go home for the summer if you tell her today.”

“Okay, yeah.” Mingi nodded, feeling more sure of himself. “I’ll tell her today.”

You had headphones in when you waited for Mingi after school, but you weren’t listening to any music. There was already too much buzzing around in your head, and music would only overwhelm you even more.

You chewed on your nailbeds and rehearsed your script in your head. Hey, I was way off base yesterday. That was weird and I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. Let’s just pretend it never happened and enjoy the summer, okay?

You saw his sneakers first. They were clean, exactly how they looked when he bought them four months ago.

He was smiling when you looked up.

“Let’s do it.”

“Wait… really?” You tilted your head to the side, trying not to stare at his lips.

“Yeah. You were right, it just makes sense for us to do it together.” His cheeks were pink.

You slowly nodded, trying to convince yourself that it was a good idea again. “Right. Yeah… yeah, it makes sense.” You clapped your hands together. “Well! It’s settled then! Is Yunho leaving town anytime soon?”

“I don’t… I don’t think so?”

You stood up to begin your walk home, and Mingi followed suit.

“Well,” you sighed. “My roommates are probably home, but we should be fine if we’re quiet.”

Mingi stumbled a bit as he walked. “Wait, we’re doing this right now? Like, literally right now?”

“No!” you turned your head towards him as you spoke, but you didn’t look him in the eye. “But don’t you think we should do other stuff first? And like… work up to the big thing?”

“Other stuff?”

“Just to warm us up. You know, so it won’t be as scary when we…” You pictured Mingi naked and on top of you, his eyebrows furrowed and his pretty lips parted in a moan. You cleared your throat. “You know.”

“O-okay,” he nodded. “Okay, yeah.”

Mingi sat on your bed with his hands tucked underneath his thighs to hide how badly they were shaking. He looked around the room, jealous of your full-size bed. He and Yunho were in a shared room dorm, and his feet always hung off the end of his twin mattress.

Meanwhile, you scrolled through your phone to find a good playlist. You hit shuffle on the first one that suited your taste and a familiar song tumbled out of your cheap Bluetooth speaker.

“You’ve kissed someone before, right?” You put your phone on your desk and walked to your bed.

“Yes,” he nodded.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Who?”

He squirmed, adjusting his hands under his thighs. “My lab partner in ninth grade. She felt me up under the bleachers.” I was thinking about you the whole time, his internal monologue chimed in, the words never making it past his lips.

“Gross,” you laughed, sitting on your bed. “Just let me lead, okay? Try to mirror what I do.”

You reached up to hold his jaw, and his entire body stiffened.

“Hey.” You waved your hand in front of his face. “Don’t be nervous, Ming. It’s just me. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want t–”

“I want to!” He interrupted. “Please. I really want to. I’m just nervous.”

You rested both your hands on his shoulders. “It’s just me,” you repeated. “The same me that I’ve always been.”

Yeah, he thought, that’s the problem.

“Just follow my lead.” You gave him an encouraging smile, which he weakly returned. “It’ll be fun, okay?”

Mingi nodded, closed his eyes, and held his breath. A few seconds later, he felt your lips against his, and they were even softer than he imagined. He was sure that his were chapped, and he regretted not wearing lip balm more often like his mom always told him to.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

He opened his eyes at the sound of your voice and gave you a tiny shake of his head.

“Do you want another one?” You smiled.

“Yes, please,” he whispered.

You kissed him again, a little bit longer this time. Your lips naturally slotted with his, and butterflies filled his tummy when you rested your hand on his thigh.

And then your lips parted. He wasn’t sure what to do other than follow your lead like you’d told him to, so he let his lips part, as well.

His breath caught in his throat when your hand slid down to his neck. He barely had time to recover before you slipped your tongue in his mouth, playful and teasing and light.

“O-oh,” he breathed, a shiver running through his body.

“How was that?”

“Good. I liked… I liked the part when you used your tongue.”

“Shut up,” you laughed. “You wanna… keep going?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

And that was how Mingi had his first makeout session with his childhood best friend. He tried to keep his whimpers to a minimum, but it was hard to when your kisses progressively got more heated. Your tongue in his mouth was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, and he blushed at your giggle when he tried to mirror your movements.

“Such a fast learner, Ming.”

“T-thanks…”

“You know you can touch me, right? You don’t have to sit on your hands.”

He looked down, completely unaware that his hands were still tucked underneath his thighs. They were both numb now, and they tingled when he pulled them up. He flexed and relaxed them to get his blood flowing again.

“I’ve never…” he whispered, “I’m sorry. I don’t- I don’t know where to touch.”

You gave him a smile laced with what might have been pity and took his big hand in yours, moving it to rest on your hip.

“What about the other one?” He whispered, even quieter than before.

And then you were lifting his other hand and placing it on your cheek. His breath caught in his throat again.

It’s strange to truly look at someone whose face has always been a constant in your life. You looked different, but also the same. People change, but they don’t.

Mingi was sure of one thing: your face was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. He liked it ten years ago, and he liked it now.

He kissed you first the next time. And since he’d gotten a little more confident, he let his lips part and used his tongue first, too. He kept his hands where you’d placed them and you kept yours around his neck. You kissed and kissed and kissed, and for now, that was enough.

It didn’t stay enough for long. You and Mingi practically ran to your dorm after school every day, barely taking time to breathe before attaching your mouths together once your door was shut. Your obsession with Mingi’s lips had only grown since you started spending most of your free time kissing them.

His hands were nice, too. They’d gotten a little bit more curious since that day, sometimes giving your hip a gentle squeeze or moving up to your waist while he kissed you. Any noise you’d make would immediately be met with a “sorry” – a constant reminder that no matter how attractive the boy you were making out with was, he was still just the same old Mingi.

And the little reactions he’d make were precious. He’d gasp when you touched his thighs, he’d hum when you stroked his neck, he’d whimper when you took his plump bottom lip between your teeth. The more you worked him up, the luckier you felt to have been the only person to have ever seen him like this.

You wondered how that could be while you sucked his lips. Plenty of girls had crushed on Mingi over the years. You knew because they’d always ask you if you were his girlfriend before they tried to confess to him. No matter how many times you told them you weren’t, he never ended up dating any of them.

You detached from his lips with a smack. “Mingi?”

“Mm?” He blinked, eyes slightly glazed over and lips swollen from kisses.

“Why haven’t you had a girlfriend before?”

His eyes widened for a split second, and he tried to cover it up by blinking a few times. “Uh… just never met the right person, I guess.”

“But girls have been throwing themselves at you for years… You didn’t ever want to try anything with them?”

“Guess I just wanted to wait for someone that I really…” he swallowed. “Trust.”

That made sense. The thought of doing all of these things with a stranger was horrifying, but you felt safe with Mingi. You smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“I trust you too, Ming. Wanna try something new?”

“O-okay, yeah.”

You tapped his shoulder twice. “Lay down.”

Like a puppy who’d just been given a command, he lowered himself against your pillows, swinging his legs up so he was laying on the bed. You swung a leg over his hips to straddle them, and his eyes immediately widened.

You’d never really taken time to admire how pretty Mingi was. His chest, which was more toned than you’d realized, was swelling and deflating as he attempted to stabilize his breathing. His Adam’s apple dipped as he swallowed, and you’d be stupid to not notice the way his thick thighs tensed and relaxed underneath his black jeans.

And then you leaned down, hovering over him to study his face. You ran your thumb over his sharp jaw as you took in his other features; The same darkness in his eyes that wasn’t mysterious, but warm and inviting. The straight line of his nose, the pointed tip of it. The birthmark under his eye, the one on his cheek, the acne scars that dotted his cheeks like stars. Those fucking lips.

Mingi was really fucking cute. Had he always been?

You kissed him again, smiling when a little whimper escaped his lips.

“Cute,” you mumbled, unaware that the word had left your mouth until it was too late.

Or maybe it was a good thing that you said it. Mingi’s response was enough to make you think that, at least. He moaned again, louder this time, as he pushed his hips forward against yours.

Mingi always got hard during your makeout sessions, but you always pretended not to notice to spare him from any embarrassment. However, pretending not to notice was incredibly difficult with his bulge grinding against your heat.

He moaned at the stimulation, but quickly interrupted himself. “Ooh-sorry! I’m so sorry, that wasn’t on purpo–”

You clapped a hand over his mouth. “I told you we have to be quiet.”

He nodded, eyes wide as your hand stayed pressed to his mouth. You slid it down to rest on his chest when you whispered in his ear. “Don’t be sorry. That’s what I wanted to try.”

You pushed and pulled your hips against his erection again in one experimental thrust, grinning when his eyes screwed shut and his lips pressed together. You cupped his face to guide his lips to yours again.

It was as uncoordinated as two virgins could be. Though your lips easily moved together from a week of practice, neither of your hips were skilled enough to set any sort of rhythm. You just desperately grabbed at each other, groping and humping and kissing like your lives depended on it.

Soon, you could feel your soaking panties uncomfortably sticking to your core. The fabric gave you the tiniest bit of stimulation, dragging against your clit and ever-so-slightly teasing you. And the boy underneath you was driving you insane, with his messy kisses and his tiny groans.

You didn’t know what the end goal was, but you knew that it felt better when you grinded your hips faster, so that’s what you did.

“Ah-” You silenced Mingi’s moan by pressing your mouth to his again, sighing as he hummed against your lips.

And then he whimpered your name. He’d said your name a thousand times before, but he’d never said it like this. Like it was a cry for help, a desperate plea for something. The sound fueled the fire of your desperation as you continued moving your hips, hoping to God that he’d say it again.

And he did. You attached your lips to his neck and he whined your name once more, followed by a tiny breath of, “O-oh, god…”

His little sounds were getting better and better. Your name slipped past his lips between breathy whimpers and choked hums, and you kept licking and sucking his neck while you grinded your clothed, soaking pussy against his painfully hard, just as clothed dick.

Finally, you took pity on the poor thing. His moans were getting increasingly desperate, and you could tell that he was doing everything in his power to keep them quiet. You hovered your lips directly over his ear.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“A-ah-mph!” He squeezed his eyes shut as he writhed on the bed, pressing his hand to his mouth to keep his pathetic noises in. His whole body was shaking when you sat up.

A wet patch on the crotch of his jeans made the dark fabric even darker, and a horrified expression washed over his face as your eyes immediately landed on it. If he would’ve looked between your legs, he would’ve noticed that your shorts were just as soaked, but he didn’t. He only saw your dumbfounded expression as you tried to figure out what you were supposed to say. All that came out was, “D-did you just…?”

You just made a boy cum. From kissing. This had to have been the best day of your life.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, pushing you off of him. He immediately stood up, locating his jacket on your desk and holding it in front of his pants as he slid his bag over his shoulder. “I’m… I’m sorry.” He looked down the whole time, never letting his eyes meet yours as he slipped his way out of your bedroom door.

“Mingi!” you called two seconds too late. “You’re not going to–”

You sighed, letting your voice get quiet. “Help me?”

He didn’t come back, leaving you with soaking panties and an unsatiated pulsing between your legs that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

You texted him the next morning.

It’s not a big deal, Ming. Do you want to come over?

He didn’t respond. You went the whole weekend without hearing from him, and even when you waited for him at your usual spot on Monday, he didn’t show. You sent him another text.

Stop being stupid. I miss you.

He didn’t respond to that, either. By Tuesday, you were so anxious to see him that you waited outside his lecture hall after his morning class, scanning the crowd of faces for him. He wasn’t difficult to find; his tall frame easily distinguished him from the rest of the crowd, even with his shoulders slouched. He made eye contact with you and immediately put his head down, walking faster.

“Mingi!” You yelled, weaving through the crowd to follow him.

His pace quickened, his long legs carrying him out of the brick building and through the grassy common area, skillfully dodging flying frisbees and strategically-hung Enos.

“Mingi! This…” you panted. “This isn’t fair! Your legs are longer than mine!”

He flinched with each call of his name, but he didn’t turn around. He didn’t slow down. You picked up your pace to a jog, huffing as you tried to catch up to him. “MINGI! Stop fucking ignoring me!”

After quickening your steps to a borderline sprint, you finally got close enough to grab the handle of his backpack, yanking him backwards and causing both of you to collapse on the lawn in the process.

“Ow…” he whined, rubbing his butt and attempting to brush grass off of it.

“You…” you breathed. “You fucking suck. Why aren’t you talking to me?”

“W-What do you want me to say? What the hell am I supposed to say after humiliating myself like that?”

“I told you it wasn’t a big deal, stupid! I wanted to make you feel good!”

His ears burned as he looked at you with wide eyes, a mixture of embarrassment and shock painting his face.

“And you… you didn’t even stay and help me. I was more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life, and you just got up and left! Right after I helped you finish! Who the fuck does that?”

“I…” he breathed, trying not to pass out. He made you more turned on than you’d ever been in your life? “I didn’t think you wanted me to…”

“You didn’t think I wanted to feel good, too?”

“No!” he stammered, “No, I just… I didn’t think, I mean, I thought you would think I was gross.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Mingi, the entire point of having sex is to feel good. I didn’t think you were gross, I was jealous of you.”

And see, that was where he fundamentally disagreed with you. As far as Mingi was concerned, the entire point of having sex was to be intimate with someone you love. Feeling good was just a bonus.

He loved you so fucking much. Knowing that you didn’t feel the same way about him made his chest physically ache, but he knew that you needed him, and that was more than he could have hoped for. If you didn’t love him, at least you could love the way he made you feel.

“I’ll make it up to you next time,” he assured you. “I promise I’m gonna make you feel good.”

Your smile reappeared, and he felt like he’d been hit by a train.

“Yeah,” you laughed, punching his shoulder. “You better. Wanna try that new boba place?”

The boba was mid, but it was nice to just be in Mingi’s presence again. He crumpled his straw wrapper as he told you about his weekend, how his mom’s birthday was coming up, and how things were getting more serious between Yunho and his girlfriend.

You liked the sound of his voice. You remembered when it used to crack all the time in middle school, but it had since balanced out into a smooth baritone, cascading your ears in warmth.

“Are you listening to me?”

“What? Yes.”

“No, you’re not,” he scoffed. ”You’ve been staring at my lips for the past five minutes.”

“Yeah, because you have foam on them.”

He immediately wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his ears flushing a bright red as he mumbled a disingenuous “fuck you.”

The foam was only a scapegoat. You both knew how much you loved his lips.

“Speaking of fuck you…” You shifted in your metal chair. “When… when are we going to… you know…”

“What?”

“You know…” You looked to the side, your eyes widening.

His heartrate doubled. “Oh. Um… I don’t know. Was there… did you have a specific time in mind?”

“Sorry, didn’t realize I needed to make an appointment,” you laughed. “I don’t know. I just… I want to. Soon.”

He remembered your words. Get it over with.

“Okay,” he nodded. “We can. Soon.”

You picked up his hand that was resting on the table to play with his fingers, pinching them between your smaller ones while you chewed on a ball of sweet tapioca.

He swallowed and watched you, his eyes glazing over. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Your stomach dropped a bit when you met his starry eyes. You didn’t know why.

Two days later and you had Mingi underneath you again, his hands gripping your waist while you sucked on those perfect lips.

“Gonna make you feel good this time…” he whispered, trying to catch his breath between your feverish kisses. “Promise.”

You just rested your hand on the back of his neck and sighed.

“Can I… Is it okay if I take your shirt off?” He asked, his face a deep shade of red.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “It’s okay.”

But he didn’t move, so you tugged on the hem of your shirt and lifted it off yourself. His breath caught in his throat when he saw your half-naked torso, covered by nothing but a slightly too tight purple bra that you got on clearance a few years ago.

He shakily brushed a fingertip over the little bow in the center of it.

Your face felt so hot you were sure water would boil if someone rested a pot on your cheek.

“Can you… take your shirt off, too? This feels weird.” You covered your torso with your arms.

“O-oh, yeah,” he nodded. “I’m sorry. Yeah.”

You scooted back so that he could sit up, his trembling hands lifting his shirt over his head.

His chest was flushed red. That was the first thing you noticed. And his belly was lean, but also soft and smooth, puffing and deflating with his shallow breath.

You rested a hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat. He just watched you.

“We’re not kids anymore…” you whispered. There was a sad tone to your words, almost as if you were grieving.

“No,” Mingi shook his head, his voice barely audible. “We’re not.”

It was a beautifully horrifying realization. The kid you used to make mud soup with was a man now, and he was touching you like you’d never been touched before.

You kissed him then. To comfort him, to comfort yourself, to be closer to the person who already knew you better than anyone in the universe.

You unclasped your bra and just let it loosely rest on top of your chest.

“Hey,” Mingi whispered, “Just me, remember?”

Right. Just Mingi.

You tossed your bra to the side, instinctively covering your boobs with your hands.

“Please…” Mingi placed his hands over yours. “I want to see you.”

He sighed when you removed your hands, just as slowly.

“Pretty…” he mumbled. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

You nodded and he ran his hands over the lines on your sides where your bra had been digging into your skin. You cursed yourself for not buying a new one before this. Maybe he’d like one of those silk push-up bras you always saw your friends wearing, or perhaps one of those flimsy lace bralettes that you saw in the windows at Victoria’s Secret last week.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and the insecurity in your stomach almost vanished completely. Almost.

He leaned forward, cupping one of your tits in his huge hand and gently kissing the other. You gasped when you felt his wet tongue drag across your nipple, and he looked up at you for reassurance while you laced your fingers through his hair.

“Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Y-yeah, that feels good….”

He gently latched his mouth to your nipple, sucking and then running his soft tongue over the flesh to soothe it. You didn’t mean to, but you arched your back, and his free hand found a place in the dip of your waist.

You subconsciously tugged on his hair as he sucked your other nipple. He worshipped your tits, kissing, sucking, and licking them while you quietly moaned, grinding against his erection. You wanted to let him continue all night, but soon, the pulsing between your thighs started to become unbearable.

“Ming… need you to fuck me,” you whispered. “Please.”

He pulled back a bit, his plump lips glossy and his adam’s apple dipping as he swallowed.

“Okay.”

He didn’t move and you didn’t, either. You just looked at each other, breathing heavy though you’d hardly done anything yet.

“... Nobody’s ever seen me naked before,” he said under his breath.

You shook your head. “Me neither.”

He kissed you again, but it was really just so that you wouldn’t watch him while he took his pants off. And you weren’t sure what you were doing, you weren’t sure why, but once both of your pants were off, you reached a hand down and felt him through the thin fabric of his boxers.

He took in a sharp inhale.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “Is this okay?”

And then you felt a large hand between your thighs, softly rubbing you through your panties.

It felt so much different from when you did it to yourself. More pleasurable, sure, but also more vulnerable. More intense.

Neither of you knew what to say. You felt how hard he was against your hand. He felt the little wet patch soaking through your panties. You both needed this desperately, and yet for a few moments, nobody moved.

“Y-you can take them off of me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper and it cracked in the middle, but you were proud of yourself for getting the words out.

His hands shook when he slid them down your thighs. Before he could stare for too long, you slid your fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pushed them down.

You weren’t sure if he was big or not. You’d never seen a penis in real life before, only in porn, and he looked about the same size as what you’d seen in porn. Did that mean he was big?

He looked down, and you realized you were staring. “Sorry,” you stammered, forcing yourself to look him in the eye again.

“N-no, it’s okay. Is it… I mean, do you like it?”

Your face broke into a smile. Mingi, Mingi, Mingi. “Yes, it’s lovely, Ming. Stop stressing.”

You reached for a condom on your nightstand, closely inspecting the foil packet for instructions.

“I think I can do it,” he mumbled, gently taking the condom out of your hand.

“You know how to?”

“I think so.”

After a few minutes of him fumbling with the latex, his lips were on yours again and you could feel his dick resting on your thigh.

“Are you ready?” He pulled back for a moment to look you in the eye.

“M-mhm,” you nodded.

He kissed your cheek and held his dick in his hand, aligning himself. A painful stretching sensation flooded your lower half as his thick tip poked at your entrance.

He inhaled shakily. “C-can I… can I push it in now?”

You nodded. “I… think so? Y-yeah… go ahead…”

He pushed his hips forward, and the sensation intensified when you felt his tip enter you with a pop. The pain was excruciating, unlike anything you’d ever felt before. A horrid stretch, almost like a burn, splitting you open in the worst way. Tears pricked into your eyes.

“OW! Ow, ow, ow, stop, stop, stop!” You pushed his broad shoulders away, whimpering when he frantically pulled out. That hurt, too.

“O-oh my god, are you okay? What did I- D-did I do something wrong?”

You looked down at his dick, which was still fully hard. He was big, you supposed. Really big. With his cock resting on your stomach, it went all the way up to your belly button. You felt stupid for thinking you could take him without any prep.

And you also felt embarrassed. This wasn’t how your first time was supposed to go. This didn’t happen in porn. You were supposed to be screaming his name, he was supposed to be groaning yours and pounding you into the mattress. You were supposed to be making him feel good, and he was supposed to be doing the same for you. A lump formed in your throat and you attempted to blink the tears out of your eyes, which probably just made them more teary.

“No,” you breathed. “I think… I don’t think I’m wet enough.”

He frowned. “Did we not kiss for long enough?”

“No, no, we did.” Guilt crept into your chest. You knew this wasn’t how he pictured his first time going, either.

His frown intensified as a pained look washed over his face. “Are you not… is it because you’re not attracted to me?”

“Stop it, Mingi. It’s not for any reason. You didn’t do anything wrong. Let’s just… we can get lube from the store and try again tomorrow, okay? I can jerk you off to help you finish if you want.”

His heart ached. He didn’t want you to ‘help him finish.’ He wanted to make love to you, soft and tender and slow. He wanted to hold your face and kiss your forehead and tell you how much you meant to him.

But his dick was painfully hard, and there aren’t many times that the love of your life offers to help you finish even though they don’t feel the same way about you, so he said, “Yes, please.”

You wrapped your fingers around his erection, biting your cheek to stop yourself from crying. He bit his lip to do the same.

Mingi couldn’t make eye contact with the cashier when he bought lube from the drug store the next day. His hands shook as he put his card into the reader, and they kept shaking while he entered his pin number. The machine dinged and he yanked his card out, snatching the plastic bag from the cashier before they had time to offer him a receipt. His face burned the entire walk to your dorm and didn’t stop burning once he got there.

His breath caught in his throat when you opened the door. “I got the…” he held the plastic bag up. “I got the stuff.”

You laughed and stepped back to let him inside. “You make it sound like we’re about to do drugs.”

Yeah, something like that.

Mingi didn’t say anything when you sat him on your bed and straddled his hips. He whimpered a little bit when you pressed your lips to his, and you assumed that it was just because he was horny.

You held the side of his neck and worked your tongue against his, rolling your hips forward to grind against his growing bulge. He whimpered again, and you moved your face down to suck on his neck.

“I think you need to finger me first,” you whispered in his ear.

“W-what?” He blinked up at you for a moment, his eyes wide and starry before he shyly looked away. “I’ve never… I mean… I don’t know how to do that.”

“It can’t be that hard, right? You just take your fingers and, like… put them in me.”

“I think it’s a little more complicated than that.”

“Well… I’ll just tell you what feels good, okay? I do it to myself all the time.”

His eyes snapped up again as he imagined you touching yourself. He’d thought about it before, late at night when he was jerking off, but hearing you say it out loud made him feel dizzy. Flames erupted across his cheeks again, and his body tensed.

Your face burned with the realization of your confession. “Stop picturing it.”

“S-sorry.”

“I just need your fingers first, okay? I can’t… I can’t take your dick without some prep first.”

It was like you wanted him to cum in his pants again. He nodded and reached for the plastic bag, fishing out the lube and taking it out of its little purple box.

“I’m sorry about yesterday, by the way.” His voice was quiet.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. That’s why we’re doing this together, you know? Because we feel safe around each other.”

He nodded.

“But for the record…” You lowered your head, still embarrassed about how yesterday went. “I’m sorry, too.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He smiled.

You kissed him, and you were so glad that you were kissing him.

“I’m really going to need you to walk me through this because I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.” His cheeks were a splotchy red.

You laughed. “I promise it sounds scarier than it actually is.” You pulled your shirt over your head, embarrassed again when you realized you were wearing the same purple bra that you wore yesterday.

“Shit,” you breathed. “I meant to wear something nicer for you today. Sorry.”

For me? Mingi thought. For me?

But he said, “I like this one. It’s cute.” And he touched the little bow again.

“Thanks.” You climbed off of his lap to take your shorts off. “Lift your arms.”

He obeyed, and you lifted his shirt over his head. It didn’t need to be off yet, you supposed, but you’d been dreaming about Mingi’s lean abdomen all day and you didn’t want to wait another second to have it under your fingertips again.

You laid down on the bed and slid your panties off, but didn’t spread your legs yet. You felt vulnerable again, especially considering that Mingi still had his pants on.

“C-can you–” you started.

“Yeah,” Mingi nodded, already unbuttoning his pants. When they were off, he sat back down and gently brushed his fingertips over your thigh.

“Okay,” he breathed. “Tell me what to do.”

“Just… just kiss me for a second.” The truth was, you weren’t even really sure how to give him instructions, and you wanted to buy yourself some time. You usually just felt around until something felt good, and you weren’t sure how to explain that to him.

He kissed you. You decided that even if he was always too big for you, even if you couldn’t ever take his full length, you’d probably be just as happy kissing him and jerking him off like you did last night.

You felt his hand on your inner thigh and you liked the feeling.

“Okay, so…” you inhaled deeply. “Just start with one. And you can just kinda… feel around? I’ll tell you what feels good.”

“Okay,” he nodded, taking a deep breath, too. “Okay.”

He dripped some of the lube onto his fingers, rubbing it with his thumb in an attempt to warm it up. Your body tensed as you felt his finger slide between your folds, shaking slightly as he rubbed you up and down.

He seemed to stop breathing for a moment. His eyes just raked over your body, all wide and starry while he clumsily touched you.

“You’re gorgeous,” he breathed. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“M-Mingi, Ah-” You let out a tiny yelp when his fingertip brushed your clit.

“Did I hurt you?” He immediately stopped, taking his fingers away.

“N-no, that felt good… really good…” You nodded.

He tried to find the spot again, clumsily drawing circles around it.

“S-so good. Yeah, r-right there,” you sighed.

His fingertip slipped a little too far to the left.

“N-no, back where it was.”

After a few seconds of “Here?” and “No, here,” back and forth, he found the spot again and gently traced it.

Your eyes rolled back and closed as your body twitched, trying to get used to the sensation of being touched by another person.

Then his fingers slid further down, but it was intentional this time.

Mingi looked you in the eye and didn’t say anything as he gently circled his fingertip around your opening, coating it in lube and spreading your arousal at the same time.

You didn’t say anything, either. You couldn’t if you tried. But he understood your tiny nod and the look of desperation in your eyes, so he gently pushed his finger inside.

His long, thick finger went deeper than your own ever had, but it didn’t hurt. “O-ohh,” you breathed, shivering.

Mingi was at a loss for words. Your pussy was hugging his finger so tight and you felt so warm and the tiny noises that you were making were about to send him over the edge. “Fuck…” he sharply inhaled through his teeth, staring up at the ceiling for a minute so that he didn’t cum untouched.

“M-Mingi,” you breathed, “Go like this.” And then you held a finger up and curved it inward, and he immediately obeyed.

Your back arched to a borderline uncomfortable degree as you let out a pathetic little noise, and Mingi seriously was on the edge of an orgasm already.

“I-is that a sensitive spot?”

“Do it again,” you commanded. “Mingi, do that again.”

He did, and then he did it a few more times, pumping his finger and setting a rhythm. You were probably being a little too squirmy, but you couldn’t help it. Nothing had ever felt like this before.

“Fuck,” you breathed. “Add another one.”

Mingi meant to ask ‘Are you sure?’ but his head was so fuzzy with arousal that he just obeyed, pushing his middle finger in next to his pointer finger.

“S-shit,” you gasped, sitting up and holding his wrist. “Hold on a sec– fuck.”

“Are you okay?”

“It feels good,” you nodded. “Just forgot how thick these are.”

He understood. He could almost feel you stretching out, and he suddenly felt horribly guilty for not offering to do this before he attempted to put his dick inside of you yesterday.

“You’re doing amazing,” he encouraged you, nodding slightly. “J-just let me know when you want more, okay?”

“C-can you…” You blushed, too shy to complete your sentence.

He knit his eyebrows at you, giving you an encouraging nod. He felt your pussy tighten around his fingers, and he tried not to groan.

“What do you need, baby?” He soothed, “Just tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

Your face burned. Mingi had never been more attractive to you, with his lips swollen and his cheeks flaming and his fingers deep inside of you. He was gently thrusting his fingers, massaging your g-spot, tracing your opening, and stretching you out all in a fluid motion.

“C-can you play with my clit again while you do that?” You whispered.

He nodded immediately, smiling and circling his thumb around your pebbled clit.

“O-ohh…” you moaned, burying your face in his neck. “Oh my god…”

He swallowed roughly. “G-good…” He encouraged as he felt you slowly relax around his fingers.

Your back arched, tiny little whimpers escaping you as Mingi made love to you with his hand.

And he was barely holding it together. He could feel the tip of his dick sticking to his boxers, precum smearing against the fabric and providing his cockhead with the tiniest bit of friction every time he moved his hips.

“Do you want one more? Or are you good with two?” His voice was hoarse.

“I d-on’t—“ You inhaled sharply, eyes closing as you felt the tiny spark of an orgasm in your core. “D-don’t think I can take a third…”

Mingi nodded, and then he kissed your forehead. He wanted to speak, but he was putting all of his effort into keeping up a steady rhythm with his hand and not coming in his pants while your tensed thigh rubbed his dick.

And then it was silent for a few moments, except for the quiet squelching coming from between your legs every few seconds.

“I think I’m gonna cum.” You whispered, keeping your eyes closed. Focusing on that feeling, chasing it.

Mingi swallowed, his breath catching. “Mm.” He hummed. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Your breath caught in your throat, the rest of it escaping in a choked whimper. “F-faster…” You breathed, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Please.”

He nodded, quickening his movements. You leaned up, catching his lips in a messy kiss as you got closer and closer.

You were quieter than you thought you’d be. As your orgasm approached, you hardly made any noise at all, save for a few little gasps.

Your mouth dropped open and you pressed your forehead to your lover’s, letting out one single moan as your orgasm clenched down on his fingers. It ran through your body in waves, your muscles tensing and releasing rhythmically.

“My god…” Mingi groaned, continuing his movements. “G-Good job, baby.”

You squeaked, gently pushing his hand away as you neared overstimulation. His brows furrowed as he worried that he’d hurt you, but you immediately eased his anxiety by holding the back of his neck and pressing your lips to his again.

“Felt so good…” You mumbled through kisses. “T-think I’m ready now…”

His heart fluttered as he felt your hand between his legs, stroking his sensitive thighs. And then he looked at you in a way that a boy had never looked at you before, with big, dark, sparkling, pleading eyes. Like he needed you.

So gently, like you were afraid he’d break, you slipped his dick out of his blue plaid boxers. He was so hard, so sticky and pulsing that you were sure he must have been in pain. “Thank you for making me feel good,” you whispered. “I know it must have been hard to wait…”

He shook his head, closing his eyes. “Don’t thank me.” He let out a tiny noise as you stroked him once. “I loved it,” he breathed. “I loved doing that for you.”

You smiled, kissing him again. “Take these off,” you pleaded, tugging at the waistband of his boxers.

Mingi pushed them down, kicking them off the bed at his feet. And then he was fully naked, hovering above you, also fully naked. It should have been scary, but you’d never felt more safe. You reached your arms behind him, stroking his back before sliding your hands down to teasingly squeeze his ass.

He let out a choked noise and you laughed. “Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that. You have a really nice ass.”

He shook his head, laughing and kissing you again.

“You’re really beautiful, Mingi.” You whispered, feeling another pang in your core as he groaned at the praise.

He reached a hand up, squeezing your breast as he kissed you and kissed you and kissed you. His heavy cock rested on your belly, clear precum sticking to your soft skin.

You reached for the condom on the nightstand, carefully ripping it open. His eyes didn’t leave your face as you gently rolled it onto him, your small hand wrapping around his girth. You slid his tip between your folds, then coated it in even more lube. You knew it might still hurt a little bit, but you felt much more prepared for it this time.

“The second it starts to hurt,” he whispered, his voice raspy. “You tell me.”

You nodded. The two of you looked into each other’s eyes, and didn’t look away when his tip was aligned with your entrance.

But his eyes fluttered shut a bit when he slipped inside. He couldn’t help it.

Your gasp made him open his eyes again. “Are you okay?”

“Mmh–” You nodded, your voice high pitched and squeaky. He pushed forward, filling you, stretching you, making you his.

“Mingi…” You whined, tears blurring your vision. “S-so big…”

He kissed away the first tear that fell. “I know, I’m sorry,” he whispered, “Y-You’re doing so well.”

He stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his length.

“Is it…” You looked up at him with teary eyes. “Is it all the way in yet?”

“Not yet.” His eyes were full of empathy and adoration. “Can you take any more? It’s okay if you can’t.”

You whimpered. “S’big, Mingi.”

“I know, baby, I know it’s big. Does it feel good? D-Does it hurt?”

“It feels…” you trailed off. “It feels good but it hurts. I dunno if I can take any more.”

“That’s okay,” he nodded, kissing your forehead. “You feel s-so good just like this.”

“R-really?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “You feel amazing. So… so fucking good.” He gritted his teeth as he spoke, shaking and sweating and forcing himself to not instinctively start fucking you hard and fast. “Can I move a little bit now?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “Slow, please.”

He pulled back so that only the very end of his tip was dipped into your opening, then shakily pushed forward in a single stroke, a little over three quarters of the way inside.

Tears stung his and your eyes. You felt better than anything he’d ever felt before, and the stretching sensation was starting to feel more pleasant than painful.

“I’m so…” he whimpered. “I’m so proud of you. You’re taking me so well.”

“Mingi…” you whined in response, clawing at his back. “F-feels good.”

“Yeah?” His eyes met yours. “It feels good?”

“Mmm. I want… want you to fuck me. B-but slow, okay?”

He visibly shivered, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as his whole body became covered in goosebumps.

“T-tell me if it’s too much.”

He attempted to set a pace then, slowly pushing and pulling his hips to halfway-fuck you as gently as he possibly could. Little moans slipped from your lips in time with his thrusts.

“Ungh…” he whimpered, “God. F-feels so good. You’re so…” his eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“Mingi…” You rested your hand on his cheek. “Kiss.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His perfectly full lips gently kissed yours, softly massaging his tongue into your mouth while he slowly pumped his cock in and out of you. You were embarrassed that you couldn’t take his whole length yet, but you decided in that moment that this wouldn’t be the last time you did this with him, and you had all the time in the world to train for the entirety of him.

“Fuck…” he repeated, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m… I’m close. I’m sorry.”

“You are?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him, a moan slipping from your lips when his thrusts got a bit faster.

That was fast, you thought, but it was his first time, you supposed. You hoped he had good stamina, because you didn’t want this night to be anywhere close to over.

“I c-can’t…” His hips were starting to shake a bit. “God, you feel so good. Squeezing me so tight.”

“Ming…” you whispered, holding his face. “I wanna make you cum. Want you to cum for me.”

“Oh, fuck…” he whimpered. “God, f-fuck-“

His voice cracked as his eyes squeezed shut, his belly tensing and his lips dropping open in a silent moan.

And for a few seconds, time didn’t exist. There was only him and you and your bodies, like this was how you were always meant to be. You felt his big hand on your waist and his thick length stretching you out, but you also felt that same comforting atmosphere that always followed him around. You saw his face, the one that you knew so well, contorted in pleasure, and you heard his familiar voice making unfamiliar noises. And there was no one in the world you’d rather do this with. There was no one else you wanted to kiss.

“I love you.”

He cried out as he came, curling in on himself and burying his face in your neck as he pulled out so just his tip was inside, pumping the condom full of his load.

He pulled out and rested his cock on your belly, huffing in your neck as he caught his breath.

You stroked his hair and swallowed, a lump forming in your throat.

You said it. You told him out loud and you’d never be able to take it back.

He just kept breathing down your neck, sweaty and shaking and wondering if he heard you right.

“I– I tried not to…” you breathed. “I tried so hard not to fall in love with you. You’re my best friend and you mean more to me than anyone else. But I just…”

You swallowed. There was really no going back now.

“I see you smiling and it hits me like a steamroller. Like my chest is knocked in and I can’t breathe. It feels… It feels like I’m suffocating and I don’t know how to stop it or make it go away.”

You felt his large hand hold your jaw, and his lips were on yours.

“Please… be my girlfriend,” he mumbled, breathless between kisses.

You pulled back to look in his eyes. “What?”

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. Please, please, please be my girlfriend.”

Your face broke a little bit. “You have?”

He nodded, and then his face broke, too. “Please say yes.” He held your face, looking deep into your eyes. “P-please, baby.”

“Obviously yes,” you smiled, tears so close to spilling from your eyes. “Dummy.”

“I love you,” he cried, kissing you again. “I love you so fucking much.”

“Mingi,” you breathed, for no reason other than to say his name.

He kissed you and cried and you kissed him and cried, and he suddenly remembered what Yunho said. A nice way to show her I really care.

He kissed down your neck, across your chest, on your nipples, over your belly, until his shoulders were between your thighs.

“W-what are you doing?” You asked, looking down at him a little too innocently.

“I don’t really know,” he sighed, leaning forward and kissing your dewy pussy.

“A-ah! Mingi!” Your legs instinctively closed around his head, and his big hands gently pried them open again.

“It’s okay…” he breathed, leaning forward again. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He sweetly kissed your inner thigh before spreading you with his tongue.

You whimpered and squirmed, grabbing a fistful of his soft dark hair.

“You sound so pretty,” he mumbled, kissing your clit, “And you taste so good…”

His thick, plump lips worked with his velvet tongue to worship your pussy. And it was loud, the room filled with wet sounds and Mingi’s groans, along with the pathetic little moans you were letting out.

You looked down at him. His ears and cheeks were dark red, his eyes closed, the sharp tip of his nose shiny and wet.

“T-that feels really good, Ming—“ You were interrupted by your own gasp as his tongue slipped into your entrance.

“You’re mine now…” His deep voice sounded gravelly and thick. “You’re all fucking mine…”

“Mingi…” You whimpered, lacing your fingers through his hair as his lips sweetly sucked your clit. How did you learn how to do this? You wanted to ask.

But he was moaning against you again before the thought could finish. “I’m gonna do this every fuckin’ day…” He blinked slowly, a string of drool connecting his lips and your pussy. He used his broad shoulders to push your legs open even wider, taking a deep breath before diving back in.

This time, he slipped two fingers inside of you while he worked his tongue. He closed his eyes, enjoying the taste of you while he passionately used his fingers and tongue.

“I’ve dreamed of this…” He paused to kiss your inner thighs. “Wanted this for so long… needed to know what you tasted like.”

“Mingi…” You breathed, watching as his pink tongue drew circles around your clit. “I-I’m gonna cum again…”

“Yes,” he groaned, never coming up for air. “Please, baby. Come in my mouth. I wanna taste all of it, please… wanna lick you clean.”

Hearing those filthy words come from shy, sweet Mingi’s mouth made your stomach flutter. Your thighs clenched around his head as he gave you the most enthusiastic slurp of the night, the otherwise silent room filled with the sounds of his mouth devouring you.

You moaned so loud when you came that there was no doubt in your mind that your roommates heard. Mingi’s groans of enthusiasm were hardly muted, either.

Your thighs twitched, your body shook and your hips pressed against Mingi’s warm mouth as your orgasm consumed you, and you’d never felt more adored in your life.

And then he didn’t stop.

“Mingi!” You cried out, trying to squirm away from his tongue.

But he looped his arm under one of your thighs, keeping you pried open. He used his other hand to spread your pussy, groaning as he licked it again.

“My girl…” He mumbled, and he seemed to be drunk off the taste of you, talking to himself. “Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy…”

Your eyes widened and you twitched as his tongue flicked inside of you again. You’d never seen this side of Mingi before; you’d never seen anything close to this side of Mingi before… and you really, really didn’t want it to stop. But—

“I’m really sensitive, Ming…”

That seemed to snap him out of his trance a bit. He looked up, moving his body up to sweetly kiss your lips again. “I’m sorry, baby. You j-just…” He sighed, catching his breath. “You taste so good.”

You smiled. “I really like it when you call me baby.”

He kissed your forehead then collapsed on the bed, laying next to you. You rolled onto your side, gently stroking his belly.

“Do you feel good?” He asked softly, his full cheeks blushing. “Was that enough?”

“Enough?” You laughed in disbelief. “It was perfect.” You nodded. “Perfect.”

“I’ll always make sure you’re satisfied, okay?” Your boyfriend looked you in the eye, his brow slightly furrowed. “A-and I’ll always make sure you’re taken care of. I’ll make sure your belly is always full and your shoes never get dirty.”

A kiss on his chin, your face in his neck. “It’s just me, Mingi. Just you and me.”

“Just us…” He mumbled, “Just like always.”

You nodded and then sat in silence, touching and being touched. He stroked your thigh with his pinky, his eyes on your lips.

“In our own little world. Just the two of us.”

#song mingi x reader #mingi smut #song mingi x y/n #song mingi x you #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fic #mingi scenarios #mingi fanfic #mingi x reader

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atlabeth · 4 months

Text

bleedin' me dry | luke castellan

runaway with luke ending here!!

summary: luke has a proposal. it doesn't go over well.

a/n: so um. obviously im a huge percy jackson stan ive got annabeth in my name and ive literally wanted to be her since i read the books in second grade and by virtue of being an annabeth stan i hate luke but i also think he is so interesting and so good for angst and i also love the pjo resurgence we’ve got going on here from the show!! so here you go. here's some angst

title from vampire by olivia rodrigo

wc: 2.8k

warning(s): fem!child of demeter reader. luke is his own warning lmao. pushy and manipulative behavior, not the healthiest relationship! and no happy ending

“You know I love the forest,” you mused, “but you have to have a reason for bringing me out here.”

He gave you a wry smile as he squeezed your hand. “Do I have to have a reason? You said you love it—that’s gotta be reason enough.”

“I love it, but there are monsters here.” You twisted your free hand and flowers sprouted up a few feet away. “It does give me a chance to show off, though.”

You were in your cabin helping Katie clean up everything—it was the last day of summer and most of the Demeter kids had already left—when Luke knocked on the door and asked you to accompany him on “a little adventure”. Despite the teasing of your siblings, you bashfully accepted.

It wasn’t the smartest thing, admittedly, to find yourself in the forest with your boyfriend with a couple hours ‘til curfew when you still weren’t even sure if you were leaving or not, but you had your dagger. Luke didn’t have his sword, but you had been practicing.

It wasn’t like it really mattered, anyways—he probably just wanted to make out with you. It was far from the first time, and for all he knew you were leaving for the school year in a few hours.

He chuckled but didn’t say anything. You looked up at him, a slight frown creasing your brows, and nudged him with your shoulder.

“Is everything okay, Luke?” you asked. “You’ve been… oddly quiet.”

Again, it took him a moment to respond before he just shrugged. “I’ve been thinking, I guess.”

“About what?”

“Life,” he said. “Our lives.”

“Very philosophical for the hour,” you said dryly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Luke nodded, “yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask away.”

“Have you ever thought about leaving?”

“I’m still deciding whether I want to go back home for school or not, but—”

“Not after the summer,” Luke interrupted. “Leaving camp. For good.”

You frowned, a chill running down your spine. “Of course not. Camp Halfblood saved my life, Luke. I could never leave.”

“Says who?” Luke stopped and your intertwined hands pulled you back, stopping you as well.

“Says all the monsters that tried to kill me last time I went home,” you said slowly. “Don’t tell me you forgot the dracaena that nearly got me on that field trip.”

“‘Course I didn’t forget,” he said, inclining his head. “I just think you’re good enough now to make it without this place.”

“Luke,” you said with a strained laugh, “you— you can’t be serious.”

He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because if we leave, we’ll die,” you said slowly. “I barely made it on my own out there.”

“You’re more powerful now. And you won’t be on your own,” he said, tugging you closer. Despite it all, warmth bloomed in your chest. “I can protect you.”

“Luke…” You trailed off as he cupped your cheek with his other hand, bringing your gaze back to his.

“What’s the point of staying here?” Luke murmured, an unmistakable softness in his eyes. “Just so we can sit around at summer camp for the rest of our lives? I mean, it’s not like that’s gonna be much longer, the way Chiron tells it.”

“I ha— we have friends here,” you said, huffing another laugh as you took a step back from him. It was easier to think when he wasn’t touching you, when you were still able to sever the string connecting the two of you. “We have a life here. A safe life, Luke, where we don’t have to look over our shoulders constantly.”

“Not me.” Luke shook his head as he moved a step forward in tandem, and he took your hand again, his grip tighter this time. “You’re the only thing I’ve got keeping me here.”

“Please,” you said in disbelief. “You’ve got a whole cabin of siblings that adore you. You’re the best swordfighter here. I’m pretty sure even Mr. D has a soft spot for you.”

“Please,” he mocked, “you can’t seriously believe that.”

You shrugged. “All I know is that when you finally asked me out, I gained a whole lot of enemies.”

“Like that means anything,” Luke said.

“The kids love you too!” you exclaimed. “Their eyes light up with stars whenever you help them with their sparring. You’re a beacon of light to this place— where is all of this coming from?”

“I’m tired,” Luke said roughly. “Tired of the gods ignoring us when all they’ve caused is pain.”

You frowned, but he continued on.

“You’re telling me you haven’t noticed it?” he asked. “When’s the last time you ever saw my dad give me any kind of attention besides some fun-colored smoke? He ruined my mother’s life— he ruined my life! And our cabin is damn near overflowing with unclaimed kids. Where are their parents?

“Luke—”

He shook his head as he forged on. “And you can’t say that Demeter is any good either. I bet she makes your cereal tastes real good in the morning, but she’s abandoned you for your whole life.”

“Luke, where is this coming from?” you asked, your frown deepening further and further as you let go of his hand and took a step back. “You— you know I’m not a fan of them, but you can’t just go around saying things like this. The last thing I need is for my mother to— to smite me, or strangle me with vines or something because I’m not appreciating her enough.”

Luke huffed a laugh. “That would be the most attention she’s paid to you since she claimed you.”

“She’s a goddess,” you said. “She’s got more important things to do than send me emails asking how my day is going.”

“Really?” Luke asked, his eyebrows rising.

“Yes, really,” you enunciated. “I expect it. I consider myself lucky she claimed me at all.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” he marveled as he said your name. “Your mother has never been there for you, and you think you’re lucky?”

“Luke—” you started, but you couldn’t even finish as he continued on.

“Demeter wasn’t there for the year you spent feeling like the scum of the Earth because you hadn’t been claimed yet. Demeter wasn’t there for the childhood she gifted to you then abandoned you for.” He pushed forward still. “Demeter wasn’t there for all those sleepless nights you spent in the Hermes cabin wondering if you were ever going to know who got you into this mess.”

“Luke, stop,” you finally managed to get out, moving back in turn.

“You know who was?” He continued to forge on, capturing your wrist when you tried to take another step back, eliciting a shaky exhale as you flinched. “Me.”

You ripped your arm away from him, fire in your eyes and blazing in your blood. “Don’t ever touch me like that again.”

“I’ve been here for you since the moment you stepped foot into Cabin Eleven!” Luke’s voice rose, and you’d never been more aware of the dagger hanging off your belt. “Through every tear, every tirade, every godsdamned rant about the gods—”

You stumbled back, and your heart stuttered in your chest as your back hit a tree. Your jaw was clenched, attempting to stop your tremors trying to wrack your body.

“And you’re telling me,” his voice suddenly lowered until it was scarily soft, little more than a whisper as he leaned over you, noses nearly touching, “that you would still choose them over me?”

“If you do not get away from me right now,” you said, quiet and even, “what we have, and anything we could have, will be over.”

Luke didn’t move. “Answer me.”

For a moment, it was just that—you and Luke staring at each other. His chest rising and falling just so from the effort of yelling, his beautiful eyes devoid of any previous softness. You thought your teeth might crack with the pressure in your jaw.

“No,” you said. “I wouldn’t choose them over you.”

And for an even shorter moment, his eyes do soften.

“But I won’t leave my family,” you whispered. “Not for whatever cause you think you’re fighting for.”

And just like that, the armor went up again.

“So that’s the way this ends,” Luke said evenly, and when he moved a few steps back, you felt like you could finally breathe again.

“You know who I am,” you argued, though you couldn’t make yourself move. “My siblings are my family— my friends are my family. I’d never leave them.”

“Oh, I should have expected it,” he said offhandedly. His laughter was a cruel thing. “I always knew you were a coward.”

“Don’t you dare turn this on me,” you spat. “Why do you even want to leave in the first place?”

“Because I’m sick and tired of all the bullshit that goes on here!” Luke yelled. “We’ve been here for years, and what the hell do we have to show for it? A couple scars? A lot of near death experiences? Some deadbeat parents that ruined our damned lives?”

“I have a family that I never could’ve dreamed of!” you exclaimed. “I have sisters and brothers that love me, friends that understand me, and—”

Your voice broke for a moment and you swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing the tears back. Some of the fire burning through your veins had been extinguished as you continued.

“And I thought I had a boyfriend that was there for me.”

It was there again—his eyes softening ever so slightly when he looked at you. But then he clenched his jaw. “And I thought I had a girlfriend that was there for me.”

“I won’t leave,” you enunciated. “I’m not going to help you with whatever crusade you think you’re meant to lead against the gods!”

“You don’t understand,” he insisted.

“You don’t understand!” you exclaimed. “You’re ready to leave all of this behind, and for what?”

“I don’t want to leave it all behind,” he said. “I want you by my side. We could be something truly great together— can’t you see?”

Luke took your hand again and pulled you away from the tree, gesturing with his hand around you. “You can control all of this. The whole world is your domain—we’d be untouchable.”

“Luke, you sound crazy,” you said roughly. “Where is all of this coming from, seriously?”

“I just know that we can live a better life,” he said. “Together, without the gods.”

“Witho—” You couldn’t even manage to finish the word, shaking your head at the pure absurdity of it. You hardly recognized your boyfriend purely because of the insanity he was spouting. “Luke, we don’t need to leave! We don’t need to stand against the gods, or— or whatever this is!”

This time, you took his hand as you tried to smile. “We can make this work, Luke, and we can make it work here,” you begged. “I promise.”

“Things need to change,” he said, voice steely, pulling his hand away. “And they’re clearly not going to change here.”

“Yes, they can,” you insisted, your hands clenching into fists at your side. “I want things to change too, believe me! But going off on your own isn’t going to do anything for it. We can start it here—together.”

His eyes were colder than ever as he looked down on you, and you truly didn’t recognize him. The glint in his eye and edges you would cut yourself on and the insanity he was spouting for no damn reason. You didn’t know what in Hades’ name had gotten into him.

“All we do is sit around and wait for that hag in the attic to spout prophecies, and then Chiron sends some kids off to die, and then we sit around and wait to do it again,” Luke said. “The gods keep making kids and the kids keep dying because they leave them in the world alone— we’re practically grandparents here because we’re lucky to make it past sixteen! The gods don’t do a damn thing about it, and neither does Chiron.”

He shook his head as he stared right into your eyes. “You’re not as smart as I thought if you think you can change anything here.”

“So— so what?” you asked brazenly. “You’re just gonna leave?”

Luke shrugged. “I was always gonna leave. It just depended whether you were with me or not.”

He turned around and started walking, and for a moment you were fully dumbstruck, unable to move. Then something snapped inside of you, and you moved your hands straight up through the air. Vines sprouted from the ground and tangled around Luke’s legs, stopping him and nearly causing him to fall.

“You don’t just get to walk away from me after spouting this bullshit,” you fumed as you ran to catch up with him. “What in Demeter’s name has gotten into you, Luke? Gods— this isn’t you!”

“See?” Luke smiled, ignoring your question. “You are powerful.”

“Answer me,” you seethed.

He shrugged, that small smile still on his lips. “It’s always been me. Maybe you’ve just been too stupid to realize.”

“Where are you going to go?” you asked, ignoring his jab. “Not home, clearly.”

It was a deep cut, something you never would have said under normal circumstances, but his expression didn’t change.

“I’ve got plans,” he said, ignoring your jab, and he huffed a laugh. “And I guess they don’t involve you anymore.”

All you could do was stand there, stunned as you stared at him. It was cliche, but it really wasn’t him, because you loved Luke and he loved you.

He’d always been a bit spitfire, always a little sharp around the edges, but you loved that about him—and he softened those edges for you. He was strong-willed and caring and passionate about everything, and you didn’t want to lose him. Not like this.

You knew what he’d been through. You knew what happened to his mother, what happened to Thalia, everyone he’d lost and every reason for every scar. But you never thought—

Gods. You never thought he’d actually do… this.

“Let me go, will ya?” Luke asked, tilting his head. “Or else what we have will be over— or whatever it was you said back there.”

The vines receded against your will, like his words just connected to your subconscious. You stayed rooted in place as he continued walking away.

But then he stopped. Turned around, looked right at you.

And for a moment you were fourteen again, feeling alone and forgotten going into your third month in the Hermes cabin. Grumbling your way through sword practice because the excited camp counselor who just happened to be your age refused to let you sulk for another day.

It was days after your fifteenth birthday, and the golden sickle with sheaths of wheat had finally appeared over your head at lunch. Luke had lunged at you, wrapping you in the tightest hug possible, and looked at you with all the stars in your eyes as he congratulated you. He helped you move your meager belongings into the Demeter cabin the very next day.

It was the first time you decided to go home since arriving at camp, and Luke was sidled outside your door, making wry comments every so often as he kept you company while you packed.

It was him kissing you right before you went over the hill because he said he couldn’t keep his feelings in any longer. It was you kissing him right back wondering why he waited so damn long.

It was three years of the best thing you’d ever experienced, of the most steadfast companion you could’ve had by your side—three years of Luke Castellan’s love.

Then you blinked, and you were back in the woods. Luke’s expression had softened, but the brimming tears in your eyes blurred your vision.

“I really did love you, y’know,” Luke finally murmured. “But you should know that love isn’t ever enough.”

He was out of your view before you could even muster the strength to move again, and then you were running through the forest faster than ever before.

But when you reached Cabin Eleven, there was no sign of him. And when you checked the pavilion and the forge and the amphitheater and the training arena and every other godsdamned place, you were just as disappointed.

But by the time you got to Chiron and found out the chaos that had spouted in his wake, that he had wanted you to be a part of, it was much, much too late.

Percy Jackson was fighting for his life. Camp had been left in complete disarray. Luke was working for Kronos.

And the man you loved was truly gone.

#this is especially funny to me bc luke is all for kronos but kronos literally ate her mom #couple goals!!#also she spent like 30 minutes looking for him after which is plentyyy of time for him to try and kill percy #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #pjo x reader #x reader #sadie writes

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frannyzooey · 22 days

Text

Down the Hall

Frankie Morales x f!reader

Tags: Explicit, age gap because you know what I'm about (Frankie is your mom’s boyfriend, he is in his 40s, you are in your mid-20s)

A/N: Yea….so this is dedicated to @intheorangebedroom who inspired this entire idea and to @whatsnewalycat whose beautiful brain and writing inspired me as well. Thank you to @astroboots for cheering me on, to @bageldaddy for the super in depth beta and to @the-ginger-hedge-witch who soothed by "does this hit" worries — your minds are golden and I am so happy you support this utter filth. Ily ❤️

He thought that dating someone his own age would ground him, steady him. Not that he ever paid much attention to the age of the women he dated, but he thought with someone who had their own shit figured out, he might be inspired to do the same.

Unmoored and unattached since he joined the army in his twenties, he was pushing forty now and craved some kind of routine. Living alone gave him too much time for thinking, too many hours spent inside his own head. He knew that living like that for too long could lead to bad decisions and thought he might hold himself to a higher standard when he saw how they held themselves to one.

He met her at a bar – the most cliche of meeting places, but for good reason. She was out with friends after work and from the start, he was attracted to the way she smiled with her whole mouth. Everything about her seemed sensuous and fun, so inviting that he found himself drawn in and when he asked if he could take the seat next to her, he matched her smile with one of his own.

When she invited him home that night, he buried himself deep while feasting on that generous mouth.

He stayed that night, and then one night became twice a week, became three – and before he knew it, his lease was up on his apartment and he moved in. It was nice to come home to someone after work. To know that someone was there, wondering how his day went. To have a warm body curled up next to him in bed.

She was so independent, so driven. A corporate job that required her to dress in slippery blouses and pretty skirts with heels; the same he loved to strip from her when she came home all stressed out the way she did sometimes. And she had a kid – a daughter – already in college somewhere on the east coast, but that didn’t bother him. Dating in his forties meant people already had their own histories, and he was no exception.

Sometimes after she fell asleep and he had time alone to think, he still felt something that itched beneath his skin. Something that pulled at him from within, something that remained unsettled. He told himself that it was just an adjustment period after so many years of being unattached, and shoved those feelings deep down inside of him, determined to ignore them until he taught himself a new way to live.

Her breathing deep and steady beside him, he told himself that she was good for him.

That was what counted.

He was all for it when she told him her daughter was coming home to stay the summer between semesters. He liked the idea of having another person in the house – another distraction, another responsibility to take him out of his own head.

He worked odd hours, and during his off days, Frankie took up the task of preparing her daughter’s old room. Light pink walls, a creamy bedspread dotted with delicate flowers: his mind supplied an automatic image of the little girl that lined the hallway in frames. He knew she was older than that now, but the way her mom talked about her, he couldn’t help imagining a little kid.

Tasked with picking her up from the airport the day she arrived, he had just stepped out of the shower when he heard the doorbell. Frowning, he tugged a shirt over his damp curls, and opened the door.

Jesus Christ. Speechless, he stared at the prettiest woman he’d ever seen.

“Sorry I didn’t call,” you apologized, tugging a heavy bag higher up on your shoulder. “I got in early and thought an Uber would be faster.”

He stood there for a moment, just staring, his mouth slightly parted in confusion. And then he saw it: the shape of your eyes, the curve of your lush mouth. The resemblance stamped across your delicate features.

“I couldn’t find my key.” You stood there, looking uneasy on your own doorstep. “You must be Frankie. Or is it Francisco? My mom said you’d be here. It’s nice to meet you.”

At the rounded sound of his full name coming from your mouth, his gaze snapped back to meet your eyes while you hung there, clearly waiting for him to say something. His body was slow to catch up with his brain, the little girl his mind supplied was gone, replaced by the vision that stood in front of him. Still young and fresh-faced, but grown nonetheless and so, so fucking beautiful.

When you gestured towards the house behind him, he finally shook himself from the initial shock.

“Shit,” he apologized, stepping back out of your way. “Yea, it’s Frankie. Nice to meet you.” You gave him a half smile, and when you stepped inside, he reached for your bag. “Here, let me grab that.”

His hand dragging through his curls, he stood in the entryway and watched you make yourself at home: your shoes immediately kicked off on the doormat, your jacket hung neatly next to his own like it had always belonged there.

“Do you know when my mom gets home?”

He cleared his throat, trying not to stare at the length of your legs underneath the hem of your shorts. “Uh, she said probably around six? That’s when she usually gets home.”

You nodded, holding your hand out for your bag and for a split second, he wondered if he should bring it upstairs for you. It would be the polite thing to do, but the idea of entering your room now felt like overstepping. You weren’t a kid, you didn’t need him like that. The boundaries had suddenly blurred and shifted, and he whisked away the image of you settling into your bedroom just as fast as it popped into his head.

When you grabbed the bag from him, he felt relief.

It was easy to avoid you for the afternoon while you got settled. Instead, he mowed the lawn, prepared dinner, all the while with his ears attuned to the sound of you walking around above him. He felt on edge, anxious. The excitement he thought he would feel with someone else in the house had turned into unease.

He made himself an outsider, even more so when your mom came home. Not wanting to intrude on your time together, he stayed in the kitchen to cook dinner for the two of you and delivered it to the living room, placing your plates on the coffee table.

“Thank you, baby, that’s so nice.” Your mother scooted forward, tilting her chin up towards him in a silent request for a kiss.

Granting it to her, he felt her familiar hold slip around the back of his neck to keep him in place for a moment, keenly aware of the way you were right there. For a split second while his lips were still on hers, he glanced up at you and it was clear that he caught you watching by the way you hastily looked away the second he met your eyes.

He fucked her hard that night, his hand over her mouth so you wouldn’t hear.

She was gone in the morning when he made his way downstairs, and he was pleasantly surprised to find coffee already in the pot.

“I made extra,” you said, from your perch on the chair at the table. Sleep shorts high on your thighs, an oversized tee shirt covering your top half. The way it engulfed you made you look younger than you were.

He looked away, busying himself with pouring a cup.

“I drink a lot, so I made a lot,” you explained with shy self-deprecation.

“Sounds good to me,” he replied, sitting down at the table. “Got any plans for today? Or for the summer, I guess?”

Wading the tentative waters of getting to know someone, he watched your fingers play with the edge of the paper.

“Just relax for a bit, I think? Catch up with some old friends? No plan really. I just didn’t want to hang out on a deserted campus.”

He nodded. “Makes sense.”

And so began the morning routine you would both share for the next few weeks. Hesitant and quiet around each other in the beginning, sliding into something normal fairly fast. Your mother was early to rise and early to bed, but he had never been and neither were you.

He joined you in the late morning at the kitchen table, the curve of your soft cheek highlighted in the slant of light through the window. On the couch at night, a different kind of illumination from the light of the TV, yet hitting your cheek just the same. Your things scattered around the living room, your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom, your clothes mixed with his in the wash.

Your proximity was what he blamed for the constant thoughts he had about you.

Every morning he admired how rumpled you looked, how sleepy and soft and inviting. It was endearing, but soon other thoughts edged out the more innocent ones: thoughts about your legs wrapped around his waist, your slender fingers wrapped around something other than a coffee cup.

The want he felt for you pooled in various places inside him: his brain, his chest, between his thighs. It spilled down the shower drain and spilled hot across his stomach.

It flooded your mother’s mouth, and she was none the wiser.

Afterwards, she tucked her face into the meat of his shoulder, pressing a kiss against the skin there. Sated and content, she curled herself around him. “Let’s do something this weekend together. Actually make use of that pool we have for once.”

A barbecue. She’d been talking about having one for a while.

“We’ve been working so hard. I feel like I barely even see you, honey.”

Something akin to guilt tugged at him, thinking of the shifts he had been picking up in an effort to avoid you. Your eyes, your smile, your stupid sleep shorts.

He hummed his agreement and she kissed him in thanks, her breaths eventually evening out as she fell asleep.

Frankie lay awake, the image of your closed bedroom door stuck in his mind.

–

“Jesus Christ,” you murmured as you watched Frankie climb out of the pool.

Broad, bare shoulders, tanned swathes of skin, cute little dimples just above his ass. Water ran down over his tanned skin, the thin material of his swim shorts stuck to his ass and when he turned around to grab a towel off a nearby chair, you were glad for your sunglasses.

Fuck me.

The material of his shorts molded to every inch of his thick cock, the shape clearly outlined. Oblivious, he ran the towel over his curls, over his shoulders and arms, down his torso – and when his hand gingerly pulled the material away from his crotch, you memorized the swirl of dark hair that surrounded his navel and led down.

“Can you help me with the grill, honey?”

Your mom’s voice pulled your attention away from him.

Her boyfriend, you reminded yourself. Frankie was her boyfriend.

“Yea,” he called back, chucking his towel on the chair. “Be right there. Let me put a shirt on.”

The shirt he shrugged over his head was the same one you folded that morning. The material was threadbare and super soft, the muscles of his back shifting underneath the thin fabric as he sauntered over to the grill. You knew the way it felt in your hands, and at the thought of his body heat through the material, you pressed your thighs together.

The afternoon sun bathed you in warmth, but it was nothing compared to the heat that pooled inside your bottoms as you continued to watch him from your recline by the pool. His brown curls glinted in the sun, his throat bobbing with a swallow when your mother brought him a beer.

When his eyes flashed over to you, you finally looked away.

You saw those deep, doleful brown eyes in your sleep.

You felt them on you all the time: in the dark living room during family movie time, your mother curled up against his side. In the kitchen after dinner, when you loaded the dishwasher while he put away the food. In the mornings, when you pretended to read the paper while he snuck hooded peeks at you and drank you in.

Startled by his handsomeness from the very first time you laid eyes on him, your crush only grew with every passing day spent in his company. He was so thoughtful, so attentive and kind, but it was something else buried within his gaze that drew you in.

A barely restrained want that shone clear on his face every time he looked at you. A need simmering under the surface, you saw the way he fought it.

You thought about him constantly: imagined him crowding you against the counter in the kitchen, saw him pulling back the shower curtain to join you, pretended your fingers were his in your bed at night.

Born out of your own need, you pushed him. Played with the limits of his self control, desperate for him to make a move. No action overt enough to be blatant, the way he stared at you made you feel confident, bold. The want pouring off his skin when you hung around him was obvious and thick, filling the space between the two of you until he inevitably excused himself.

When it’s time to eat, you take a seat next to him on the bench, your thigh pressed hot against his. You waited for him to pull away, but he never did and the intimate sensation of the hair on his leg brushing against your own smoother skin made it hard to eat, though you missed it when he got up.

Your mother, one margarita too many and giggly and loose, pulled him into a dance under the stars that had just begun to come out. He humored her, wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her close, smiling at every murmured secret she slipped into his ear.

You watched the scene unfold right in front of you with a fond, humoring expression, and his eyes kept finding yours, flashing in the darkness.

You pretended nonchalance, but the entire time, you wanted.

He took her to bed while you cleaned up the kitchen.

You knew he fucked her – you heard it sometimes. They tried to be quiet for your sake but sometimes a whimper would slip down the hall, the deep reverberation of a groan in the dark.

Climbing into bed that night, your mind lingered on the image of his wet swim trunks. The dark swirl of hair, the heft in the outline.

You wondered what he fucked like with a cock like that.

–

“Something’s going on in the Arizona market,” your mom explained, tossing items into her suitcase. A silk blouse spilled over the side, and you tucked it back in with the rest. “I’ll be gone through Thursday, maybe Friday? Hopefully not the weekend, but I’ll let you know.”

“Do you need a ride to the airport?”

Smiling at you, she stepped forward and cupped your cheek with her hand for a moment. “That’s sweet, honey, but I’m good. Frankie’s got it.”

Apprehension swirled with anticipation, the joint feelings settled low in your gut. You’d been alone with him before, but never for this long. Never truly alone, for days on end.

The man himself poked his head around the corner of the doorway, the width of his shoulders filling out the frame. He glanced at you, and then his watch. “You about ready, baby?”

She bustled around the room, tossing things here and there onto the bed and he looked at you again, a slight frown pulling between his brows.

His expression gave something akin to frustration, and for a split second, you thought it was because of the time your mom was taking. When you felt his dark eyes drop down the length of your body involuntarily and then back up again, you turned away with a small smile, knowing it to be something else.

–

For the first couple days, he stayed away from the house as much as he could. Kept his distance until he ran out of errands, until he drove down the same stretch of road too many times. He didn’t trust himself to be alone with you, and he hated himself for it.

Self loathing creeped in every time he thought about the way his jeans tightened even thinking of you alone in the house. His girlfriend’s fucking daughter, half his age. The whole thing was fucked up.

And yet, he couldn’t stop.

He felt bad, thinking of you suddenly being all alone after spending so much time with people around, but he told himself that you probably loved having the space to yourself.

He came in the shower that morning to the thought of your mouth wrapped around the base of his cock, and he was unable to look you in the eye when he saw you in the kitchen afterward. Your hopeful expression lingered in his mind all day as he stretched out the hours.

The sky turned from light blue to dark, and he finally caved. He couldn’t stay away forever.

The house was quiet when he walked in, tossing his keys on the entryway table. He crept around, looking for any sign of your presence, until he heard the shower running upstairs. Light spilled down the staircase, and heading into the kitchen, he tried to push down the thoughts running rampant in his head.

He drank a glass of water, listening.

The shower turning off (your naked body, damp and warm), your footsteps padding down the hall (that smooth skin, hidden under your towel), your bedroom door shutting (the towel dropping onto your floor).

He stayed downstairs, turning the TV on to distract himself, the air in the house charged with a magnetic pull from your room. He waited until there had been nothing but silence for the better part of a half hour, then dared to venture upstairs.

He’d just say goodnight, that’s all. Just so you knew you weren’t alone.

His knuckles rapped against your door, and he pushed it open when he heard you say come in.

“Hey,” you greeted him, slight surprise on your face. Stretched out in bed, the inviting cloud of your comforter was plush underneath your body. You paused the movie you were watching, and sat up on your elbows. “Haven’t seen you in a couple days.”

“Yea,” he replied, leaning against the frame of your door. His eyes followed a slow path up your bare legs.

“Work been crazy or something?” you asked.

“Something like that, yea,” he answered. His hand stayed on the knob of your door, an anchor that kept him from crossing a line. “I actually just stopped by to say goodnight. I’m gonna turn in.”

“Already?” you teased. “It’s pretty early, isn’t it? Aren’t you gonna live it up while my mom is gone?”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ve lived it up enough. I’m an old man, remember? We don’t do that kind of stuff.”

“Forty-five is hardly an old man,” you scolded with a smile. “You wanna watch a movie instead?”

You patted the bed next to you, and his face sobered. You didn’t see it, instead reaching for the lotion on your bedside table to work some into your hands and the image of you jerking his cock with that same lotion flashed across his mind. He frowned.

“In here?”

You shrugged, laying back down. “I mean, I’m already all set up in here…”

You left the offer hanging, and even though he knew - he fucking knew he shouldn’t - he found himself nodding.

You looked surprised at his answer for a split second, and then pleased.

“Let me go get changed.”

He walked down the hall towards his room, scolding himself the entire time. Don’t do this, don’t do this, don’t go back into that fucking room. Don’t think about how smooth her skin is and how much you want to kiss her. Don’t think about how her sheets smell like her, don’t think about how much you want to lick her cunt.

The thoughts ran on a loop as he peeled off his work clothes.

They echoed in his head as he pulled on his sweats.

They followed him out of his bedroom and all the way down the hall, stopping at your doorway.

You turned your head, looking at him expectantly, looking so fucking lush and innocent, so eager to have him join you.

He swallowed hard, mouth watering and left his guilt in the hallway, joining you in bed.

–

Pretending to ignore the heavy blanket of tension pulsing between your bodies, you kept your eyes fixed on the screen.

Stretched out next to you, he kept a respectable distance, but you felt the heat that poured off of his skin. He looked so large in your bed, so much like a man. His long limbs splayed out over your girlish comforter, his masculine scent filled the space and when he crossed his arms, you admired the way the hem of his sleeve stretched around his bicep.

Lightheaded and trembling with a heady want that ached between your thighs, you made it through the whole movie – until the room descended into darkness, until the credits rolled and the screen went black

Until it was just the two of you sitting side by side in the dark.

The sheets rustled when you rolled onto your side to face him.

“What did you think?” you asked quietly.

He looked down at you from his slouch on the bed, and your fingers twitched with the need to smooth away the crease that rested permanently between his brows. You would think he was mad if not for his eyes: those always look conflicted more than anything. Constant turmoil, roiling deep within the dark depths.

Not answering, he stared down at you for a long moment before shrugging.

“Okay, I guess. Well, have a good night.”

He then started to slide off the bed.

Disappointment flooded your chest, the tension that you’d been feeling for the last two hours releasing restlessly through your limbs. Already making plans to get your vibrator from your side table to use while burying your face into the sheets he was just sitting on, he stilled.

Your eyes fixed on his broad back, you could almost see the decision being made and he quickly turned before he could convince himself to stop.

Bending down, he kissed you.

It was consuming. The brush of his mustache, the taste of his mouth, the weight of his solid body as he pushed you into the bedding, draping it over yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth to slide against your own, and he swallowed the soft sound that caught in the back of your throat. Pushing himself into the cradle between your thighs, he forced them open wider as he deepened the kiss, and his dry, calloused hand slid underneath the hem of your shirt, wrapping around your hip.

You knew you should push him away, but your hands only dragged him closer, grabbing everything you could touch: the slip of his curls, the curve of his whiskered jaw, the rounds of his broad shoulders. You dug your fingertips into his sides as he ground his hips against yours and your knees hitched higher around his torso.

His hand wrapped around the top of your shin, pushing down to hold you in place.

“Jesus,” he breathed into your mouth between kisses, his fingers tightening in their hold before sliding down to touch everything he can: the meat of your hips, his big hand cupping your ass with a greedy squeeze. Need rolled off of him in waves, his touch betraying just how long he had thought about this and his mouth shifted down to devour the long line of your neck, tasting the sweet hollow of your throat.

Your pulse beat fast under his tongue, speeding up when he let out a groan against the sensitive skin.

“Take – take this off–” he sat back on his ankles, his hands fumbling with your shirt.

As soon as you pulled it over your head, his mouth latched onto your nipple. His tongue swirled around it, sliding over the peaked bud with a suck. His beard scraped across your sensitive skin, leaving a wet path that glistened over the plane of your chest as he dragged his mouth to your other breast and his heavy hand reached down to cup you wholly over your sleep shorts.

His fingers dug into the dip of your entrance and the heel of his hand ground hard against your clit.

“I can’t stop thinking about this pussy,” he confessed. His fingers rubbed harder, and he groaned hot against your skin. “I can already feel how soaked she is for me. How much she wants it.”

You nodded with a whimper, rolling your hips into his touch. “God yes. Please.”

He pulled back just enough to stare down at your face, his pitch black eyes sliding over your features to settle on your open mouth. “Tell me you want this. Tell me how much you want my cock.”

“Yes. Please, please,” you begged.

“It’s gonna be a lot, baby.” He wetted his bottom lip with his tongue, his hand working, working, working. “She’s gonna need to be wet to take what I need her to take.”

A fresh wave of arousal washed through you, and your sleep shorts clung to your center with every grind of his palm. His thick fingers nudged the fabric to the side, exploring.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, releasing a heavy breath. “Fuck.”

His eyes fluttered shut with a frown as his touch slid through your soaked seam and kissing you again, he timed the slide of his tongue with the slick stretch of two fingers.

Your thighs opened wider around his waist, a whine crawling out of your throat when he pushed them deeper and when he started a smooth, audible stroke, you started to ride his hand.

You’d been watching his fingers for months: wrapped around the steering wheel in the car, loosely cradling the neck of a beer bottle, drumming against his thigh when he watched TV sometimes. You’d imagined them tucked inside you so many times, buried in your mouth or your cunt, and as he worked a third one in, you let out a filthy moan.

“I gotta work it open, baby,” he soothed, pulling your earlobe between his lips. “It’ll be okay. I know you can take it.”

His hips started to follow the rhythmic roll of his hand and when he seemed satisfied with how much you could take, he slid his fingers out, reaching to tear his shirt off over his head. When he pushed his fingers into his mouth for a moment, his lips wrapping around his knuckles as he sucked your taste off the thick digits, his hooded eyes took in the way you scrambled to take your sleep shorts off.

Following your lead, he dumped everything onto the floor beside your bed, and it felt like heaven when you felt his bare skin against the inside of your thighs. So broad, so firm and strong, his body pressed you into the mattress and you felt the hot, pulsing heft of his cock pushing against your cunt. You clenched at the teasing sensation of what was to come, and reached down to grasp him, but his hand caught yours and pushed it into the bedding above your head.

“Let me do it. I wanna watch your face when I put it in,” he confessed, resting his weight on top of you as he reached down with his other hand to guide himself in.

Sticky slick smeared between the both of you, and when the tip of his cock forced you to bloom around him, his eyes fixed on your face. Greedily, he devoured the sight of your mouth dropping open, a tiny tiny frown appearing between your brows and he thickened inside you, pushing forward.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “It’s so much.” So much more than you ever thought it would be, even with all the months spent imagining it.

He bottomed out and the air froze in your lungs, your cunt stuffed fuller than it’s ever been.

“Shhh,” he soothed, staying in place to let you adjust. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re so fucking tight, baby. So tight.”

Squirming underneath him, you hitched your knees higher around his torso and he rocked his hips to slide halfway out before grinding back in with a weighted push. He gave you a minute: a tense minute, a minute thick and full of wanting, a minute where all you could focus on was the stretch of his cock and the heated bulk of his body and the firmness of his chest pressed against yours.

He brushed his lips against yours, and gently rolled his hips.

“Do you know how much I’ve thought about this? About fucking you, in this bed?” His voice deep and breathless, it sounded overwhelmingly intimate breathed against your cheek.

You shook your head.

“I thought I was the only one,” you admitted. “I used to think – oh fuck – I used to think about you coming down the hallway in the night. Crawling into my bed and fucking me just like this. Just like I can hear you fuck her.”

“You listen to me fuck her?” His hips rocked forward a little faster, picking up pace.

“I can’t help it,” you whined. “The sounds – the sounds you make. I wanted to make you make them. I wanted to be the reason.”

His fingers pushed through the hold of your own, locking your hands together above your head and he dug his knees into the bed for leverage. Your breasts shifted underneath him, bouncing lightly as he fucked into you harder and his eyes dropped down to watch. “You are, baby. You are. I think about you all the time.”

Building steadily underneath him, your head pushed back into the bedding and his mouth found your throat, his teeth scraping against the tender skin. His hips never stopping their filling grind, you pushed your fingers through his curls and when he bit down with a suck, a slurred yes slipped out of your outstretched throat.

You imagined your mom seeing it, asking you if you went on a date with someone.

His strokes got harder, harsher, his hips snapping against yours and digging your fingers into the soft globes of his ass, you forced him deeper. When you clenched around his thick length, he looked down at you, wrecked and desperate.

“I wish I tasted you,” he groaned. “Next time, okay?”

You frantically nodded, unable to focus on anything but the bright, shining edge of your release.

He could see it, feel it in the squeeze of your soaked cunt and his vision blurred around the edges, his own want building at the base of his spine.

“You gonna come?”

You are. The sounds he’s making above you and the way he feels inside you and the scent and need rolling off his skin and those fucking pitch black eyes that have been in your dreams for months –

Slick dripped down the curve of your ass, your hips locking up underneath him and when you came with a silent cry, he groaned deep and loud, fucking you right through it.

“Tell me I can fucking come inside you. Say it,” he pleaded, fingers gripped on your chin to hold your gaze on his. His words punctuated by the snap of his hips, you nod your head.

“Do it,” you whined.

Your fingers threaded through his curls, it’s the tug that you give that does it. Coming harder than he had in his fucking life, he filled your tight cunt with thick ropes of his spend. Endless, smeared over the shaft of his thick cock as he continued to pump into you because he couldn’t stop, slipping out to drip onto the delicate sheets below.

“Christ,” he groaned, his jaw clenched as the veins in his neck strained above you, his hips stuttering. Slowing them into a languid roll against your own, his softening cock was still a thick, filling weight inside and when he looked down at you, you recognized the guilt that already flooded the brown depths.

You stared right back, holding him tight.

“Stay,” you murmured, holding him in place when he started to roll off of you.

You wanted to remember this. The hot press of his skin against yours, tacky and slick with sweat. The warm gust of his breath over your lips, the rapid beat of his pulse under his flushed neck. The wild curls that stuck damply along his hairline, the brush of his fingers as he tenderly thumbed at the curve of your jaw.

He swallowed and you could see the war in his eyes, something you recognized as being there from the start. His hand curled over the crown of your head, and you pressed a kiss to his throat.

“You can’t –” he started, eyes fluttering shut at the press of your mouth. “You can’t tell your mom about this, okay. We can’t say anything.”

We. You reveled in the sound of the word, your head nodding underneath him. A secret to share. Something for the two of you alone.

“I won’t,” you promised. “Just don’t leave, okay?”

You felt small and vulnerable asking, and when he looked down at you, a glimpse of the girl he imagined on that very first day tugged at his memory. Not the age he pictured of course, but the way you needed him.

The way he wanted you to need him all along.

His face nuzzled yours, his nose sliding across your cheek. A kiss pressed against the soft, youthful curve of your cheek that he had admired for months, he nodded with your sweet taste still lingering on his tongue.

“I won’t, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales/you #frankie morales/reader

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sfehvn · 7 months

Text

new religion

Description: AU- Astarion is enamored by you, and while he fights it at first, he may have just found his new religion. A/N: Just a tad bit of sweet smut to be honest. This was my listen while I wrote if you were curious. Enjoy! xx Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 2,069 Characters: soft!ascended!Astarion x fem!au!Tav

━─━────༺༻────━─━

From the moment Astarion had seen you, he knew he had to have you. Walking through the animated city of Baldur’s Gate, your radiant smile was the first thing that had caught his eye. Flowing hair kissed your shoulders adorned with freshly plucked daisies. Your aroma was the most intoxicating scent that had graced his nose in all of his years. Your rose-tinted cheeks teased with the blood flowing beneath your flawless skin. Your eyes sparkled with wonder, reflecting the rays of the sun above. He had never been a believer in the love at first sight nonsense, yet there you were. If his undead heart could beat, he was sure it would be skipping against his ribcage. It was the only time the vampire had found himself utterly speechless.

For months, he watched from afar, finding excuses to go into town. Not that he had to excuse anything to anyone, but the newfound feelings were frightening, to say the least. Alas, day after day Astarion went out, whether for a drink or an unnecessary shop trip, and he would wait to get even the slightest glimpse at you. He was aware that this obsession was snowballing out of his hands as he fell harder and deeper. Hells, he had never even spoken to you. Yet he knew nearly everything there was to know.

He knew every other day you made your way to the apothecary to pick up medicines for your sick father, whom you cared for. He knew once every fifth day, you picnicked in the graveyard next to your mother’s grave. He knew your favorite color was yellow because it reminded you of the summers you spent with your mother before her untimely passing. You had six siblings: an older brother and five young sisters.

Astarion had also realized that you had a death wish, apparently. You were constantly staying out past sundown, running errands or helping neighbors. Did you even comprehend the dangers? He would often think to himself. Of course he had to follow you home to ensure you made it inside safely. You were becoming a liability to him, and quite frankly, he was terrified of how you made him feel. Just when he had decided to end this one-sided arrangement, there you were. Sat on the side of the road with tears pooling rivers down your cheeks, his body felt out of his control as he approached you.

He stood in front of you, his words caught in his throat. You stared at him with those big doe-eyes, and his knees felt like jelly. “Are you alright?” He finally managed out. Gods, what am I doing? I should just sink my fangs into her and be done with it. It’s just bloodlust. This was something he had tried to convince himself of many times already- a lie.

“Oh, yes.” Voice sweet and smooth, like the finest honey gold could buy. “Just this silly book.” You giggled, holding up the novel you had previously been engrossed in before Astarion had found you.

“Right. Good.” He clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure and still his spinning mind. “I’ll just be on my way then.” You nod, gifting that sweet smile to him. Astarion felt his legs would give out beneath him if he stayed longer, but he didn’t move an inch.

The man intrigued you, ruby red eyes and skin pale as the snow that fell during winter. He was gorgeous. An aura of mystery surrounded him, and you were keen to discover those mysteries. “Say, you live in that big fancy manor?” You question, breaking the awkward silence that had befallen you two.

“I do. Why?” Skepticism was palpable in his tone.

You disregarded his tone, and he believed it to be your naive nature. “You have the most exquisite daffodils blooming alongside your walls. I didn’t want to pick them without asking.” Your smile is sheepish, innocent. Astarion doesn’t speak, his face unreadable. “I-I enjoy putting bouquets together. I don’t mean to-” He already knew this, obviously.

“They are yours.” Astarion can’t contain the smile that tugs the sides of his lips.

As you two stroll to the location of said flowers, Astarion finds himself loosening up in your presence. He watches you intently, the way you move your hair from your face as you carefully pluck a few from the group. He urges you to take more.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother. These are plenty.” You assure. In response, he crouches down next to you to help pluck the remaining flowers.

After walking you home, Astarion ordered flowers to be planted around the grounds. With the help of just a little magic, within weeks, roses, peonies, sunflowers, and carnations bloomed healthily. You would come with a fresh serving of food, a bouquet as thanks, and collect the flowers. As naive as you were, you could recognize what Astarion was doing. The daffodils were a one-off in that area, but now flowers surrounded the entirety of his property. The rate at which they grew, too; you were aware some effort went into getting them to blossom so hastily. At every mention of a new flower, the next time you came, they were miraculously in bloom.

This compromise had been in full swing for months when you finally questioned him about it. Astarion was on his knees as he snipped red roses from the bush, insistent on doing it himself so you didn’t prick yourself on a thorn. “Why are you doing this?” You question, a wicker basket that was already overflowing held firmly in your hands.

“I told you, you’ve nabbed yourself on these blasted thorns one too many times.” His reply came without a look in your direction as he continued to snip the stems.

“That’s not what I meant.” A soft chuckle emanates from behind closed lips. He looks up at you in realization, his hands coming to a halt. Your breath catches in your throat as he stares at you wordlessly, longingly. Standing slowly, he takes a step closer to you. He drops the roses into your basket before cupping your cheeks, closing the distance between your faces. The kiss is electric. You drop the basket to your feet, arms snaking around his neck while he presses your body tightly to his, clinging to you like a prayer. His lips were a colder temperature than you expected, but they were soft and hungry.

That’s how Astarion ended up with you in his bed. As he eagerly ripped the pale blue dress from your body, you took note of the bouquets around his bed chamber. Every single one you had gifted to him was on display and in perfect condition. Your heart flits in your chest, eyes closing in ecstasy as wet kisses trail up the inside of your thighs. A soft moan is elicited from you as his mouth reaches your warmth, his tongue flicking teasingly along your slit. Your fingers thread into his stark white hair, instinctually tugging with every contact against your clit. Colors explode behind your eyelids from the euphoric excitement.

He pulled away briefly, with his starving mouth against your thigh, he spoke muffled words, “I don’t think you realize how long I’ve been waiting to hear that, darling.” Your breathing quickens as you look down at him between your thighs with hooded, lustful eyes. His mouth returns to your clit and he suckles lightly, two fingers dipping into your dripping center. The sensation brings your back into an arch, aching to feel him deeper inside of you.

The swirling motion of his tongue brings you close to the edge, your legs shaking mercilessly. Astarion’s free hand moves between his torso and your legs, holding them steady as he continues his work on your body. Just as you are about to cum, he places a final kiss on your mound before his eyes meet yours. “You’re much naughtier than I thought.” He tsked, crooning his neck at you before moving up your body.

Your lips meet passionately, his tongue slipping effortlessly into your mouth to meet your own. He creates a gap between you as one hand holds him up, quickly removing his trousers and undergarments with his other hand. He pressed his bulge down onto your warmth, hitting your sweet spot as he grinds against you. “Do you taste how lovely you are?” He murmurs, plunging his tongue further into your mouth. You can only let out a delighted moan in response.

Once he breaks the kiss, you press your slippery core harder against his erection. “Please fuck me.” You whimper lustfully, “Please-” Your words are cut short by the sensation of him rubbing the head of his cock against your clit, causing a delicate moan to leave your throat.

“Fuck. You’re soaked, my darling.” He coos. As much as Astarion wanted to continue to play with your body, he needed to be buried in you as quickly as he possibly could. He slides the head of his member from your clit, pushing slowly into your welcoming embrace. He savors every sensation as he enters you. There is a momentary flicker of pain on your face as you adjust to his size, and he falters for a moment.

“Have you done this before?” He asks quietly, pressing his forehead to yours, avoiding your throat to save himself from temptation. He cursed himself inwardly for even asking; he shouldn’t care. This woman brought a side out of him he had never met before- a softer side. The scariest part is he actually, well, liked it.

You wavered for a second before shaking your head, confirming that he was indeed the first man to have ever been in such a position with you. The thought makes him feel feral. Such a sweet flower trusting someone like him to take your virtue; he would never admit it to anyone, but honor and pride swelled in his chest. He nodded in acknowledgment, “We’ll go slow, pet.” He reassures, hips rocking delicately into yours as he fills you with as much of him as he can manage without causing you discomfort. He lays a gentle kiss on your forehead as your pain turns into pleasure, still-shaking legs wrapping to engulf his hips.

“A-Astarion.” His name sounded like a hymn gracing his ears from your mouth, and he wanted to devour you right there and then. It took everything in him not to plow you into the bed. His hand rests on the bedframe as he finds a comfortable rhythm, eyes never leaving your face. He wanted to soak up every reaction to his touch.

“You drive me crazy, pet.” He grunts as his pace quickens, gripping the mahogany wood tighter at the magnetic pleasure buzzing through his body. He uses his free hand to effortlessly move you further up into a slightly seated position as his thumb once again finds your clit to draw purposeful eights over it.

“I-I’m- Oh my gods-” The moan is loud, music to his ears as your walls tighten around his cock.

“That’s right. Be a good girl and cum for me.” It’s a stern demand, all to mask just how close Astarion was himself. His words push you over the edge, your body clinging to his for support as the euphoria rushes over you. Every hair on your body standing on end, you throw your head back and scream Astarion’s name thrillfully.

With you coming undone, he allows himself to reach fruition, his seed filling you to the brim. His hand on the frame loosens, and his head hangs, face full of gratification. He looks down at you, pulling his now-soft member from you, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you stretch contently, much like a cat. Your eyes were droopy, a giddy smirk on your face as you fought to keep them open. Astarion chuckles, pressing another kiss to your lips. “You can sleep, my darling. I’ll wake you in a little.”

Astarion swore he felt the tiniest tinge of warmth in his heart at the sight of you so comfortable cuddled into his side as you dozed off. This could be a welcome change. Maybe his undead life just needed his very own light, his own sun. All he knew was that he was done fighting it. One weakness couldn’t hurt.

#ascended!astarion x tav #astarion x tav #ascended!astarion x reader #astarion x reader #soft!ascended!astarion #ascended astarion #astarion #smut #x reader #tav #reader #bg3

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keerysfreckles · 4 months

Note

Maybe luke having a skincare day with aphrodit!reader? I’m in love with your stories 😭😭😭💕

rosy — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns

a/n: the og mean girls musical soundtrack >>>

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

winter at camp half-blood couldn't be described easily. it snowed all around the camp, but never inside the barrier. yet somehow it was still cold. the snow pillowed around the barrier of the hill, and the white clouds just stayed just above the camp.

most campers went back to their homes after the summer, sometime in august. very few stayed. either to train, or just using camp as an excuse to stay away from their un-goldy parent.

nothing was different this year as most campers went home. some would say even less stayed at camp this year. three out of the twelve cabins were completely empty.

y/n l/n, daughter of aphrodite, made the choice to stay at camp this year. she couldn't take another year of her younger mortal brother bugging her 24/7 when she was home. her step-mother wasn't a cash prize either. she would always critize y/n, mostly for her looks and mannerisms. yes, y/n, daughter of aphrodite. the prettiest most breathtaking goddess' daughter, was being critized for her looks.

y/n knew she made the better choice once she found out luke castellan was staying at camp as well. the hermes cabin was always full, all year long. so luke found himself inside y/n's cabin more than his own.

this didn't change as luke was currently walking inside the cabin. he was always mesmerized by it. the whole cabin was light pink, with matching pink columns on each side of the porch. it was a taller cabin, having two stories. there were many engravings of cupid and hearts all over the outside walls. it was so different from hermes' all wood, traditional looking cabin.

luke enters the cabin, being met with even more pink. the two couches in the room where white, along with all the other furniture. the cabin was full of mirrors and more engravings of cupid.

"love?" luke called into the cabin. he knew y/n was at camp, he just wasn't sure where.

"upstairs!" y/n yelled. she was sitting at one of the vanity's upstairs, the one she claimed as her own in the summer. it was full of her own things. makeup, trinkets, jewelry – everything really.

luke walked up the short stairway and his heart warmed at the sight of his girlfriend. you heard right, girlfriend. the two camp counselors started dating in the summer of last year. luke protected y/n a bit more than the other campers when she was unclaimed. they didn't drift apart once she moved cabins either, which both were extremely grateful for.

luke took her out on a very cheesy picnic date at the end of summer, before y/n went home. he was nothing but a gentleman the whole time. of course he had to end the date with a kiss, which leads the couple where they are today.

"why aren't you outside with the others? all the apollo campers are putting on a play right now," luke drags an empty chair from another vanity and brings it towards y/n's.

the girl finishes wiping her face, removing the makeup she had on earlier in the day.

"i just wanted a self care day," she answered honestly, "everything just got so overwhelming after lunch."

luke nodded as he undertsood. he knows how loud the camp can be sometimes, even in it's deserted state.

he rested his head on y/n's shoulder and watched through the mirror as she put a green substance all over her face.

"what is that for?" luke asks curiously.

"it's a face mask, it helps clean your pores and help with wrinkles and ache," y/n responds, while rubbing the green mask on her forehead.

"let me do it with you," luke offers.

y/n turns with furrowed eyebrows, "what? why?"

luke shrugs, "it's something cute couples do, isn't it?"

"well, yes i guess so," y/n pauses to smile, "here, sit up straight."

luke does as she says, while the girl grabs the container and stands in between his legs.

luke finally notices she's wearing one of his shirts he must've left in the cabin in one of their many sleepovers. he thought it looked way better on her than it did on him.

the mask was cold when it touched luke's warm skin, making y/n mutter out a few sorry's before continuing. luke had his hands placed on her thigh's gently rubbing circles on her exposed skin. he never understood why she wore shorts as pajamas in the winter.

"why are you looking at me like that?" y/n wonders out loud. she's done putting the face mask on her boyfriend. she sets tge container down and wipes her hands on a towel, before placing her arms over luke's shoulders.

"what? i can't stare at my absolutely gorgeous girlfriend?" the two of them laugh. "i got lucky with you."

y/n blushes, and she swears luke's can see ut under the mask covering her skin.

"and i got lucky with you," y/n tells the hermes boy. she watches his smile only grow.

she then leans down to kiss luke's lips. they're as soft and as warm as ever. she wondered how they were always warm, especially in the winter. her fingers threaded through the curls at the base of his neck, earning a small moan from him. moments pass and y/n's bottom lip was now being pulled between luke's teeth.

y/n pulled away, knowing what luke wanted. she couldn't help but giggle at the whine coming from her boyfriend.

"we might have to get this mask off if we want to go any further, huh?"

y/n only giggled more as luke was quick to run to the cabin bathroom to wash the face mask off his face. y/n was quick to follow and once both of their faces were clean, luke pulled y/n to her bed.

"i love you," luke says in between kisses.

"i love you too," y/n stares at the boy for a moment, with nothing but adoration, before pulling him in for many more kisses.

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #luke castellan #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x fem reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x aphrodite!reader #pjo #percy jackson #pjo show #pjo tv #pjo tv show #percy jackson and the olympians

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 month

Text

Making JJK men realize what love is

Pairing: Geto x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader; Toji x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,8k

Warnings: language, near death experience in Sukuna's part, fluff over fluff, not proofread

feel free to enjoy 🤍

Geto Suguru

He hates those monkeys. Like a mantra, he reminds himself over and over again while he watches you from afar, stunned from your sudden presence. How your delicate hips swing from side to side on this hot summer day, how flawless you look when those innocent rays of sunshine hit your skin just right.

And then your eyes meet yours. Oh, how he hates the way his heart skips a beat, how a small smile forces itself onto his lips while your whole face lights up in an instant, feet stopping right in their tracks in order to rush towards him.

You met Geto Suguru when you were at your lowest, haunted by sleepless nights and the feeling of being watched all the time. Just when you were on the brink of going insane, you found out about this strange cult leader who healed countless people before you. With one swift motion of his somehow elegant hands, you were healed, regained your smile, your will to live.

And somehow, you can’t help but get mesmerized by that man with the charismatic brown eyes and smile so gorgeous that you simply can’t keep your mind off him.

Suguru clenches his hands into fists, forces a wall up his heart so high that you can’t climb it. This is ridiculous, so disgusting that he can’t look at himself in the mirror anymore. You are a monkey, a non-jujutsu sorcerer. Damn, you are like every other girl that rushed to him, dark circles underneath your bright orbs, begging on your knees for relief. But why…Why does his heart almost beat out of his chest, seeing you in that cute summer dress? He should kill you right here on the spot, should end your puny life just like he did with others countless times before. You are nothing but a disgusting human, a bug underneath his boots.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here!”, you cry out, storming his way with your hair waving in the light breeze like in those trashy movies Shoko always forced him to watch.

“I was actually on my way home”, he explains softly, cursing himself over and over for his gentle tone.

Damn, he didn’t even take your money back then.

“I…I don’t know if a simple thank you will ever be enough”, you breathed out.

Just before you stormed towards him.

Just before you wrapped your hands around his neck tightly, pressed your delicate body against his, engulfed him with the warmth of your presence.

Suguru couldn’t help but just sit there, widened eyes staring at the wall opposite of him where the blood of his last victim still shone through the white paint.

You, a monkey, dared to touch his figure with your disgusting hands? The instinct of pushing you away while killing you right on the spot came swiftly, but somehow…

He loses his breath when you wrap your arms around him again, your intoxicating smell making his heart skip a beat along with the sensation of your naked skin touching his.

Something about you is different.

“I actually just went shopping for you”, you bubble out, fingers hectically searching for something specific in the countless shopping bags you carry with you.

Is it your well-formed figure, how your body seems to fit right in his hands? Is it your tender appearance or the way your fingertips seem to touch his heart instead of his skin? How your words always hit the right nerve, make him waver, make him wonder? No, despite being a non-jujutsu sorcerer, you radiate nothing but kindness. There is in fact no cursed energy dripping out of any pore of your delicate body, not a single spark of negativity since the day he took that curse off your shoulders.

You are pure, you are kind. And you seem to be the only person apart from that man years ago who has absolutely zero cursed energy, who isn’t responsible for these curses. You are everything he hates, everything he fights against and yet you’re not.

And you aren’t even aware of it.

“I know you prefer salty over sweet, so I got you this. It’s a speciality…-“

Suguru can’t listen any longer, eyes fixated on the way your pretty mouth moves and your wild mimics. How nice it must feel to caress them with his very own mouth until they get puffy, feeling your breath hitch against his cheek while he holds you in his arms.

No. He shakes his head ever so slightly. You are a monkey, he hates you. He hates the way he urges to make you laugh just to hear you giggle. He hates the way his eyes always find you even in the crowdiest places in Tokyo, how his breath hitches even though he has seen you so often. He hates how he instinctively visits the places he knows you love, the back of his heart always searching for you.

His heart…What is this strange feeling? He hasn’t felt anything despite hatred and grief for so long that it might be a heart attack.

Gently, you open his hand and place a little package inside of his, orbs shining so brightly that he gets lost in them again.

No. That warmth spreading in his guts tells him otherwise. This isn’t a heart attack, let alone hatred.

“I think I love you, (y/n).”

He watches how your eyes grow wider and wider with each passing second, the other package you were holding in your now numb hand falling to the ground.

“You-…what?”, you stutter.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He shouldn’t have thought, let alone say something like this. Love? Suguru doesn’t love anyone. He killed his own parents, wouldn’t even shy away from killing his former best friend if he has to. No, in Suguru’s world there is no place for a heart, especially not for loving a monkey, a disgusting creature-

The stinging sensation from your tender touch against his cheek makes his mind go blank, forces his eyes to meet yours. That breath-taking smile on your face, your fingertips caressing his oversensitive skin…

“I think I love you too, Suguru.”

Suguru fails to breathe, fails to do anything apart from staring at you. You, loving him back?

Why would anyone love someone like him?

“You can’t love someone like me. Not after all the things I’ve done, the things I’m still about to do. You wouldn’t say that-“

“The moment I met you I knew about the things you did. I saw those blood splatters on the wall, your cold gaze. But now all I’m seeing is warmth. All I’m seeing is you.”

He’s lost at words, lost at sight. At the moment, there’s only one thing to do, one thing that feels right.

And that is pressing his lips against yours the way he always imagined, allowing his hands to press your body closer to his, enjoy the sensation of your breath hitching against his mouth.

Maybe this is what love feels like. After all this time…

It’s you.

Ryomen Sukuna

“(y/n) is in great danger, master Sukuna-“

“Why would I care about that?”, the king of curses mutters to himself in an instant.

The truth is, his nerves are tingling, mind clouded by countless questions. How did you manage to get yourself into danger when you are considered the queen of curses, so powerful that people slowly but surely forgot to fear him? It shouldn’t seek his interest that you might get killed, it isn’t any of his business. After all, you are nothing but his opponent, a pain in his ass.

“I got bored, so I made sure you’ll get reincarnated, pretty boy”, you teased him, your low voice being the first thing he heard when he awoke.

“Shit, I hoped you’re dead by now”, he replied in sheer boredom.

Like in slow motion, you emerged out of the darkness with your body as hot as it was when he last saw you 500 years ago. Your hand wrapped itself around his neck tightly, deadly orbs glared right through his soul.

“I won’t die before you, Sukuna.”

Somehow, he always relied on the fact that you never left his side. A sickening feeling of discomfort crawls up his back, flashbacks of your oh so pretty face haunting his mind. It would be so easy to let you get killed right here and now in Shibuya. What a relieve it would be to be the kind of curses and not getting questioned by your presence.

But something lifts him off his throne, forces him to listen to the words that hit the brat’s ears. What is he supposed to do?

“Take your dirty hands off me and show me where she is, curse.”

The curse on top of him stumbles backwards, gives him the space he needs to stand up and look around when he’s finally in control of this puny human shell. Fuck, his life would be so much easier without you in it. But still, Sukuna finds himself pinning that volcano curse against a nearby wall, almost scratching his face off with his free hand.

“Show me where she is or die.”

“She was severely injured by Gojo Satoru”, the curse presses out.

“Satoru Gojo is sealed, you fool.”

“But he wasn’t back then. She wasn’t able to heal herself and until now, she is still trapped underneath a curtain.”

“Show me.”

Every breath hurts while your body is plastered onto the floor, limbs not able to move a single inch. That bastard really caught you off guard. You weren’t even able to unleash your full potential when he hit you with a wave of hollow purple and slammed you into a building until you hit the ground, taping you into this hole with a curtain.

You aren’t an idiot. Absolutely no one is able to save you in that state, not when the queen of curses herself isn’t able to pull herself out of that situation. You were a fool when you thought you were ready to face him with a third of your full potential.

“Rookie mistake”, you breathe out, a muted laughter escaping your lips along with a trail of blood.

You never imagined your life to end like this, especially through the hands of a random jujutsu sorcerer. How will he react when he finds out?

He. Sukuna. The kind of curses, your opponent for as long as you can think of, your greatest enemy until he disappeared into thin air. But no, this isn’t enough. Hatred doesn’t fit your feelings towards him quite right and you’ve known it for a long time.

Out of instinct, you shake your head so violently that you feel like breaking your own neck. How ridiculous to even consider these kinds of feelings, to let this cursed word cross your clouded mind. Love is weakness, love is an invention of dumb humans, nothing for a queen of curses.

Your glossy eyes wander to your lifeless hand, covered in your very own blood, touched by him countless times before.

“I’ll kill you”, Sukuna hissed through gritted teeth while grabbing your hand and yanking it over your head.

“Tempting, but I have to decline”, you replied sarcastically, holding his threatening gaze without any issues.

“I fucking hate you, (y/n). God, you’re driving me insane.”

“What’s wrong, king of curses? Are you irritated by a simple woman like me?”, you teased him, his body so close that you could feel his heat.

“A simple woman? You are the devil”, he spat at you.

You can’t help but smile to yourself. What a shame that you didn’t manage to get on his nerves one last time. Hopefully he gets the job done and kills this whole fucking town.

Hopefully, he won’t forget about you. Slowly but surely your lids close themselves, ears ringing so violently that you fail to concentrate any longer. How nice it would have been to see Sukuna one last time.

To feel him one last time…

“Now, what do we have here? Are you really about to die here?”

“Don’t haunt me before I die”, you mutter, voice so muted that Sukuna almost fails to understand you.

You look absolutely broken, your body literally teared into pieces. And that curtain on top of you…That curse was right, this doesn’t look good at all. And somehow the king of curses feels panic rise inside of him, the sight of your breath getting stuck in your throat washing away the cheeky grin plastered on your face when reality hits him with full force.

You could die right here and now.

He doesn’t think twice. With a swift motion, he frees you from the curtain that was nothing but a minor shadow on top of you anymore, eaten up by your immense powers. Before his mind is able to stop him, he lifts your puny figure off the ground, carefully pressing your head against his chest.

“Don’t you dare to die here”, he warns you with a voice so soft that he is almost afraid of himself.

What the hell is this strange feeling that holds onto his heart, that doesn’t allow his gaze to leave your face? Your oh so gorgeous face, so shamelessly beautiful that it hurts.

“Almost sounds as if you’d care about me…”

He stops in his tracks, arms pressing you even tighter against his own body while your words echo through this fear-clouded mind.

“Because I do.”

His mouth replies faster than his mind is able to stop him, forcing your tired eyes open.

“You do…what?”

“Forget about that”, he mumbles in an instant, quickly starting to walk again.

“Say that again.”

“I would rather kill you.”

Toji Fushiguro

“What the hell are you doing here, Toji?”

“Was waiting for ya. Here, I ordered you something to eat.”

You roll your eyes at his shit-eating grin while letting yourself fall onto a chair opposite of him. It has been like this between you and Toji since you can remember, meeting up in a worn-down café to discuss another mission. Your life has always been shit. As a bounty hunter, you were on your own most of the time, relying exclusively on your own abilities. But when Toji came into your life, something changed.

You were never a couple, but still…The way he grins at you from time to time simply leaves you speechless, reminds you that there’s actually more about life than earning money to keep your head over water.

Stop this madness.

“You need something, right?”

There’s absolutely no use in thinking about these stupid things. Toji lost his wife some time ago, even has two kids. He told you over and over that he’ll never get into a relationship again, that he isn’t interested in dedicating his life to a single woman.

You stare at the fried rice in front of you, slowly but surely starting to eat. He definitely doesn’t feel the same.

“This is good”, you mutter with full mouth, a small smile forming on your lips.

But Toji can’t keep his gaze off you. From the first time he was forced to work with your annoying ass, you were always very easy to look at. And then your personality came in. When was the last time he actually smiled before he got to know you? Fuck, he has absolutely no clue. But he does every single time you do. It became an addiction to him, doing everything in his power just to see the corners of your mouth twitch.

“What you’re looking at, man?”, you mumble in such an unladylike manner that Toji can’t help but lean back in his chair, a small grin creeping up his face.

“Nothing, little pig.”

“That’s definitely not how you talk to a lady”, a oh so familiar voice comments.

“(y/n) ain’t a lady.”

And there it is again. A grin so wide that it shows your teeth with a glimmer in your orbs that leaves Toji’s heart pounding against his ribcage. What a beautiful sight you are, what a truly remarkable woman.

It’s almost like-

“I’ll get going now. Join me later?”, you question towards him on your way up.

“Sure”, he replies out of instinct, watching longingly as you walk out of the café.

“What is that look I’m seeing on your face, huh?”

The man next to him lights up a cigarette while he watches you closing the door behind you.

“Stop talking shit.”

“Only a fool would miss the way you look at (y/n). Somehow you’re the only one who manages to make her smile.”

“Oh yeah?”

Your smile. Your oh so gorgeous smile that lights up entire galaxies, your smile he always imagines before going to bed.

“And it seems like she’s doing the same with yours.”

Finally, Toji glares at Shiu, a huff escaping his lips.

“What can I say? I like her.”

“Like? Don’t you mean love?”

“Yeah, maybe…”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake@lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva@kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru @starlightanyaaa

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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

Text

Headmaster Dumbledore is sure that the ghosts of Hogwarts were hiding something. He’d be the first to admit that he’s nosy when it came to things like these, but he simply doesn’t have the time. Whatever that lingered these halls, he’s sure does not mean Hogwarts any harm. The ghosts would not protect it if it did.

Albus Dumbledore Hummer around a lemon drop as his quill scratched over endless parchment paper.

His wand glowed green for a brief second, an acknowledgement, and settled down into its current owner’s hold.

——

Danny Phantom hadn’t thought the castle he found during the summer months in this universe would be… so full of life. Not when there were ghosts, floating around like the castle were their own home.

Magic.

They were ghosts made of magic.

His core struggled, at first, to survive. Then, it took the magic and thrived.

He floated, invisible amongst the glittering candles beneath the imitated night sky, and watched students file in.

Quite different, from his own entrance.

He had floated into the tower, having felt a hint of resistance that he knew now were the castle wards. The ghosts, what he thought were ghosts before he realized ectoplasmic ghosts existed, stopped dead. Hah.

The shades dancing and whirling and conversing froze as he entered the tower. Life and death, and the beings that walked the line, stopped at the arrival of the One Who is the Line. The boy king wreathed in black and green glanced around.

“Hello. I’m Phantom.”

“The High King,” a ghost whispered. “Our king.”

“He’s an American?” Another one asked, scandalized. Danny, surrounded by those who he recognized as his, cracked the first smile he’s had in a while.

“Who cares? He’s…” The knight sunk to his knees, bowing with his ghostly sword in front of him.

The ghosts bowed. Danny floated in further. “Can you tell me where I am?”

“Of course.”

——

Now… he’s watching the children get Sorted. Weird, for a hat to decide your classmates, but whatever.

Harry Potter’s name is called, and the whispers broke out. He doesn’t know why, but Danny couldn’t ask the ghosts. They barely know the current headmaster, as the dead generally care only for their own times.

Danny decides to visit the lake octopus. Lake squid? Something like that. The mer people beneath the waters liked him, the last time he went. The Sorting is put out of Danny’s mind. He’s dead now, too. The only thing he cares about now is to explore the vast halls of Hogwarts and the occasional visit to the kitchen to steal some food for his living body.

(Thank the Ancients he found a house elf who knew what seasoning was.)

(Sometimes, Danny flew to where his home would have been and gets comfort food at the nearest town. He missed it, but he can’t go back.)

The ghosts know by now to call for Phantom should they need something (“I’m American,” he joked at the ghost. “We’re not big on kings. You can just call me Phantom.”)

——

The third year he’s there, Danny feels the effects of Clockwork’s power. When he investigates, it’s the red headed girl he once saw leaving the library, paper clutched in her hand.

She helped save one of his subjects, so he owes her. Plus, if she’s using Clockwork’s powers, this Hermione has potential.

And… she’s using it to study.

She reminds him of Jazz.

——

A wave of ice crackled and froze the fleeing rat and the feral wolf man.

“What?!” Harry screeched to a stop, eyes wide at the ghost child in front of him.

Danny turned, and landed gently on the ground. Snape snarled at him in suspicion. Danny allowed himself to become living again, black hair and blue eyes and tan skin replacing the white, green, black thing his dead form had.

“Who’re you?” The red-headed boy, Ron?, asked him through gritted teeth.

Danny smiled at them, dimples appearing. “A friend.”

Before the trio and co. could say anything, Danny whips his head around, palm coming up.

“Stop.” He orders. The creeping sense of cold and dread shuttered to a stop. “Go over there,” he said, and the dementors, hovering at the edge of his periphery obeyed. Danny turned back to the mildly terrified and flummoxed group.

“Let’s go. You’re all going to catch a cold, if you don’t move it. Especially you, scrawny and greasy.” He pointed at the godfather and Snape.

——

“Hey, Danny?”

“What, Harry?”

“Why’d you help us? I mean, you said you didn’t want to involve yourself in stuff like that.”

Danny hummed, wisped tail curling up against him as he soaked in the sun’s rays. “Because you reminded me of myself. And in the end, you died.”

“You literally brought me back,” Harry deadpanned, remembering the place between life and death, and how the angry Danny was when he stormed onto that train platform. The King had taken him by the scruff of his shirt collar like a particularly incensed mother cat, and dragged him off away from a puzzled Dumbledore.

“You were being stupid. You’re too young to die.”

“Like you?”

Danny snorted. “Nah. I didn’t have a choice.”

#danny phantom #harry potter #no I don’t like j.k. Rowling nor do I support her views #Danny is sad ghost boi in Hogwarts #he’s got a magical core now but through like adaptation and osmosis or some shit #magic simply doesn’t work on him bc he’s a ghost adjacent #Danny is the mom friend #you wouldn’t think so but he is #totally an enabler but also a mom #Hermione being Clockwork’s fav

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russellsppttemplates · 6 days

Text

Love notes (Charles Leclerc)

A look into Charles' notebook allows words and feelings to be exposed

Note: english is not my first language. The request didn't specify this, but friends to lovers was the first thing that popped into my mind and I know I'm not the only one whose favourite trope is that one so I did it ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: mentions Charles' father and his passing and implications of the loss of someone close to the reader

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"And you want me to tell you that code?", you asked Charles over the phone.

Your boyfriend needed to go to the bank to sort a few errands out, and since you had finished moving the last boxes of your belongings to his apartment, you stayed back to tidy them and organise them within the apartment. As it turns out, he forgot to take the documents with the codes.

"Yes, please amour - it's in my notebook on my desk on the office", Charles asked, "I think I went as far as taking the paper out a little so it peeks out but I forgot to take it with me", you could hear the smile and blush on his face.

"Let me go there - don't you mind me looking on your notebook though?", you said as you moved through the apartment, "by the way, I have already found some space in the kitchen for mug collection - yay! Okay, found the notebook - is it the document with your signature or the one that has the details?", you questioned.

"The one with the signature, at the end, left side", Charles repeated what the bank assistant was telling him so he could help you find what he wanted, "and it's the third and fifth number on the Mobile Key".

"Okay, I have it - it's 4 and 1", you informed him, "those are the third and fifth numbers".

"Merci amour, I don't think I need anything else! Once I finish up here, I'll head home to you, I love you! And Y/N, I trust you with everything I have - I have nothing to hide", he offered, making you bid him goodbye before ending the call.

His words ressonated with you as you flickered through the pages, noticing some doddles and racing notes before you decided to look at it from the beggining.

The first page had what looked like a poem and it dated back to the end of 2016.

My father told me to be careful

- Try to slow down a little

You don't ponder nor stay still

You don't belong or give yourself to anywhere

He said - my boy, you know what you're capable of

The world awaits you, go ahead and smile

You don't want to be left behind

It's not been easy dealing with everything. There's hope and there's the want to do more to prove everyone that I belong in Formula One. Still, I'm happy that Prema decided to have me race for them next year in Formula Two and things should go up from there. Time and patience, work and rest. Spending time with the people I love most and care about me the most.

Y/N also progressed on her studies and she's doing really well - she makes our friend group very proud! The guys are investing on their careers too and it's nice to see that, in a way, we're all growing up.

The page went on about all the whereabouts of the group, who had gotten together with someone, who had moved out of their parents' house and the ones who got work offers. There were jotted up plans for the summer holidays that, in hindsight, were mostly realized.

When you turned it to the next one, the poem continued with the same tone.

My mother said to me

- You have to see what's happening

That girl is much more than a friend

And you don't want to lose her

She reads it in my eyes

Or in my open soul

I don't know how she does it

But no matter how much I deny it

My mother is always right

I really like Y/N. Not just as a friend, but also as someone who I want to share my life with.

Whenever someone wonders how I think my life will be like in five, ten, fifteen years, she's always there. There's racing - me climbing up the ladder to points, podiums, wins and championships -, and there is my family.

Y/N and our own family.

Mum claims she noticed it since we were kids and that right now is the right time. Y/N is single again and I can't afford to lose her. Lose her as a friend or lose the opportunity to confess my feelings, or the worst one: lose her because she doesn't feel the same or feel like being in a relationship right now?

It's funny how this works, how much I care about her and how it hurts me when she isn't feeling well. Or how bad I feel because I keep missing some of her university milestones because I'm racing somewhere in the world but she always call me and I'm right in her hand while her family and our friends are in the stands or waiting area.

Even though I'm the one that's furthest away, she keeps me close.

Charles had notes about you? He always carried the little notebook around but you assumed it was because of important information he wrote there. You didn't expect this.

His words rang in your ears as, while your boyfriend had told you he had been crushing on you for a while, he had never admitted feeling this doubt. Not to this extent.

Suddenly, it felt like you were taking a look from a different angle at Charles' soul. The intimacy and vulnerability wasn't foreign and you fell in love with him a little bit more.

Today is the day to get closer

To face her and see what she says

And if luck follows me

As I'm writing this, I hope Y/N is getting ready to meet me in the park. She looks beautiful in anything, but I'm hoping she wears one of her dresses that make her look like a real life princess.

Maybe we will be happy

What I have planned isn't elaborate, because I don't think she would like a big production, and I hope it's enough to show her where I stand.

I asked maman for some help with the cakes and cookies and got the rest from the shop, we're going to have a picnic and I've decided today is the day where I tell her how I fell about her.

There is no point in hiding it, and Joris and Riccardo seem so sure that she shares the same affection.

Today is the day to grab her

I hope she does.

To be with the one I always wanted

And if the nervous voice doesn't fail

Y/N said yes to being my girlfriend!!! As it turns out, she does feel the same and we both agree that it was a mixture of stubbornness and bad timing for eachother. Now, it's the right place and the right time.

I hope we will be happy

The memory is clear as day on your mind.

I confessed how much I love her and she reciprocated it.

Charles asked you to meet up with him at the park because he wanted to talk to you. The seriousness of the text was confirmed when you arrived, Charles pacing around the picnic blanket until his eyes found yours.

"I can't pretend anymore", he said, "you're the first person I look for when I get somewhere I know you will be too, I can't stand to see you hurt or upset and I will kick myself every day if I'm ever the reason you hurt, which I hope I'll never be. You deserve the world, Y/N, the moon and the stars, and I'm going to get them for you because I love you", he offered.

You had been so dumbfounded that you could only approach him and kiss his lips, cupping his face closer to yours, "I've been in love with you for so long, Charles", you whispered back.

It was the day where your love story truly began despite having existed for all of your childhood. You were his and he was yours.

Come with me, love is not time

Continuing to look through the notebook, you spotted some racing notes with numbers and acronyms you weren't sure that they meant, taking a while to find another page that had similar writing.

It's not even time that does it

Come with me, love is the moment

In which I give myself

Y/N is asleep right now as we fly back home after the race. She hasn't left my side and I think this is the first time she's sleeping since we got the news. We knew it was coming, but it doesn't mean that it hurts any less.

In which you give yourself

The feeling is unbearable. Someone who gives you so much also takes so much away from you when they go away. There's so much to go through, and all of the feelings haven't come up yet.

Maman is waiting for us with Lorenzo and Arthur, and I hope we will all find peace with this heavy feeling together.

Y/N told me the feeling may never leave, it creeps up when you least expect it and there are no rules to it.

Time is precious and I want to spend as much time as I can with the ones I love. God knows I did that with papa and it still feels like it wasn't enough.

The creak of the floorboards alerted you that someone else was inside the apartment before Charles' head peeked, "Hello, mon ange", he smiled, coming up to kiss your forehead.

It's these moments where we're not doing anything particular or special that mean the most. Y/N has given me all she's got and I've given her all of me, at the end it's the most human thing to do. Be there. Be present. Allow the other to feel everything they need to feel and protect them. Y/N has protected me and she's never let me doubt that we are for each other.

"I looked through these - I didn't mean to invade your privacy but I got curious", you admitted. It would be no use to lie about it or try to hide it away.

Time will wait, stop there

"Did you like what you found?", Charles asked, pulling the other office chair to sit at the table with you, "I have this one here that I really like actually", he flickered through the pages.

So I can stay like this looking at you

Time knows well, even time understands

That someone doesn't rush

"I wrote this one when we were on holiday, it the boat", Charles tapped the page, "you looked so beautiful that day and I felt like I was running out of time to appreciate you. Then I spent the whole afternoon watching you and I felt like time slowed down a little bit because it knew I was appreciating you", he charmed.

That looks at you like I do

"These are very beautiful, Charles - this one is so beautiful", you smiled, kissing his cheek and cuddling up to his arm as he continued to leaf through the notebook.

Call me an adventure and come and have an adventure

There were also drawings and loose poems along with some photos he kept of you two. One of the hike you had done in Ibiza last year caught your eye. You stood on top of the rock and by the way your arms were positioned, you were calling Charles to join you in there while he snapped the picture.

Change my plans and I promise I'll believe

That I'm the only one you want to see when you wake up

Your haven if the world collapses

Come and deceive me with that look of yours

The sweet way that trips me and without counting

Quench my thirst with a kiss to shut me up

Make me a poem and let me stay

I do not forget

But I want to hear from your mouth all the words that make me blush

Speak softly in my ear

And grab my hand

"This was last year, one of the seasons where I had to deal with so much disappointment in racing, and you never let go. You were there to hold me everytime things didn't go well, to celebrate my achievements and my podiums, and you still make it feel like an adventure every single day", Charles mused, "being loved by you is assuring, comforting, liberating, soothing, amazing, incredible and the best feeling I have on the world! Loving you? It's as incredible as it is a big responsibility because I have to make sure the adventure is still there and that we're both in it", Charles admitted.

Before the night is over

"Being loved by you makes me feel like the only other person in the world", you looked up at him.

"Loving you is making sure the time stops when you're with me so I can tell you all the silly stories I know just to make you smile, all of this to make sure you know you're the reason behind my happiness and the one behind the longing that never lies when you're not there. It's hugging you back tight and have my heart wide open because it's yours to take", he sighed with a smile on his face.

"I love you, Charles - being loved by you is the best thing I get to experience in this life", you smiled before kissing his lips.

"This helps me a lot when you're not with me, it's like I can talk to you", Charles muttered, "and I get to have the memories written out too, you never know when this can come in handy".

"You have no excuse if your speech in our wedding feels impersonal or doesn't have any memories then", you joked as Charles' finger lightly pressed down on the remaining pages of the notebook, making sure you don't get the idea to flicker through the random pages he has used to doodle the perfect engagement ring for you, smiling at the thought of having you be his forever.

"I definitely don't, amour - I'll make sure it's a good one when the time comes", he smiled.

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