#i’m behind tonight like ugh

[motheyes]

i feel rlly bad like good fucking lord

[allofuswantgwinam]

someone tell me to stop being a pussy and give the gas station guy my # tomorrow

[nerdy-novelist017]

A Date (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 3)

Thank you so much for all your kind words, likes and reblogs on my last two posts! You guys are keeping me so entertained with the comments!

Ugh I rewrote this like 3 times :( I just couldn't get it right and I'm still not sure how I feel about it OH WELL

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 2.2K

Summary- You were sure you'd never see Benny Cross again. . . you were wrong.

******

“Benny’s been asking for ya.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you nearly dropped the receiver into the bowl of cake batter. Kathy’s statement came out of left field, the two of you having been discussing the latest news on the block – what kind of lipstick Sheryl Dickie uses that somehow always lasts an entire night of bar hopping. “What?”

“Yeah, says he’s real desperate to ask you somethin’,” Kathy’s tone was flippant, but you’ve known her long enough to hear the excitement she’s hiding in her voice.

“What could he possibly have to talk to me about?” You asked as you set the whisk down and moved around the kitchen counter to peak down the hallway towards the living room where you knew your father sat in his large recliner, watching a rerun of Bonanza. 

“I dunno, maybe you should come to another meetin’ so you can find out.”

“No, I’m not going to anymore of those.” you declared firmly, yanking the cord so that the phone was up to your other ear. “I don’t know how you can stand being around those guys.”

Kathy laughed, the static spiking. “C’mon, they’re fun, and you know it. Did you tell your parents how you got to ride on the back of a Vandal’s bike, and not just any Vandal!”

“No!” you squeaked. “And they’re never going to know. It was a one-time thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be. They’re having another meetin’ tonight. I’m sure Benny could pick you up–”

“Well, I can’t tonight,” you cut her off. “I have plans.”

“What plans?”

“My date.”

“Date?” Kathy asked, voice lowering dubiously. “With who?”

“Pete,” you said quietly. 

“Who?” she asked again.

You sighed. “Pete? The guy from Mama’s church?” 

Pete was introduced to you last week by your mother who was introduced to him by his mother. It was a train of people who wanted to matchmake, to see young love blossom before their eyes, even if it was forced. Pete was nice enough and he had kind eyes that sat behind wide-rimmed glasses. You’d been on one other date with him. He was an engineering student in his first year and he talked a lot about his school. He liked school. And he liked to golf nearly every weekend (his family belonged to the country club on the upper side of town). And mostly – he talked a lot about himself. He seemed to really like himself too.

“Oh, okay.” Kathy sounded unimpressed.

“My family really likes him. My dad likes him.”

“Yeah?” 

At her unenthusiastic response, you added quickly, “And I’m excited!”

“Is that why you’re stress-baking?” Kathy inquired as if she could sense it.

You glance down at the bowl of cake batter. No, it wasn’t, actually. You weren’t nervous to go on your second date with Pete; he didn’t make her nervous, didn’t fill your belly with those pesky butterflies. Pete was . . . just Pete. No, you were stress-baking because of a certain blonde Bikerider whose ocean blue eyes wouldn’t leave your thoughts all night. You were up, tossing and turning, replaying every moment with him like a broken record. It was one ride, the logical side of your mind had to say, and you’ll never see him again. You allowed yourself the rest of the night to think about him, and then you wouldn’t set aside any more time. 

In theory, it was a nice strategy. But when you woke up today, your thoughts were absolutely clouded with him and his incredibly direct eye-contact and his deeply rich voice and his hand touching your thigh and his lips encasing the cigarette—

You were doing it again! It had been one ride! One ride and a few hours. One ride where your arms wrapped so tightly to his solid form. One ride where he showed you places you’d never seen before, from a point of view you’d never been before. One ride where you felt as though you were seeing the world in a whole new light. One ride that you couldn’t get out of your head.

“Yes, because of Pete,” you replied evenly. “And I’m going to have a good time with him tonight.”

There’s a smile in her voice when she says, “Okay, sure. Say, what restaurant did ya say he was takin’ you?”

********

Thanking the driver, you stepped out of the cab, your heels connecting softly with the concrete of the sidewalk. Taking a moment to smooth any wrinkles on your pink dress, your gaze fluttered across the street to the restaurant Pete told you to meet him at. 

Ricardo’s was one of the most expensive restaurants in town, somewhere you never found yourself frequenting, but Pete absolutely gushed about their food. Coming from old money, Pete had no hesitation picking here for your second date. Pete’s family was well off, that’s what your mother liked to point out. He was a good boy with good money. He would provide for you, buy you a nice house with a picket fence in the front yard. A safe bet for the same routine life that nearly all the women of your family had spanning back several generations.

You made your way across the street, eyes taking in the lineup of expensive cars parked out front: Mercedes, Rolls Royce, Cadillac . . . Harley-Davidson motorcycle. You did a double-take at the shiny metal glinting underneath the streetlamp, eyes traveling upwards to the figure leaning casually against it. He was looking at the restaurant, head turned to give a generous view of his profile, and he hadn’t noticed you yet. For a split second, you considered taking advantage of that and booking it into the front door before he had a chance to stop you. But some deeply intrinsic part of you yearned to memorize every detail of him and you simply couldn’t look away. As a moth drawn to flame, you were drawn to him, to the golden streaks of his hair, down to the strong slope of his nose, the curve where his top lip sat so perfectly against the bottom – even with the cigarette tucked between. He wore long sleeves under his club jacket and the same distressed jeans from your last encounter. Half shrouded in the darkness of night, with the orange glow of the streetlight nearest to him, he looked like a beacon of mystery. Abandoning your previous course, you turned and approached him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked once you were close enough for him to hear you. 

Benny turned and a smile broke out over his features, eyes sweeping down your figure. “Do you dress like that all the time or only when you’re gonna see me?” He asked, nodding to your dress and heels. 

You stopped about 6 feet away from him (a reasonable distance), hopping up onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“What a chance encounter,” he proclaimed with a secretive wink that sent your stomach on a roller coaster ride. 

“Chance encounter, or Kathy’s loose lips?” you quipped and he rubbed a hand over his mouth to keep from smiling, fingers grazing through the blonde, recently-trimmed facial hair.  

“Why are you here?” You asked again, this time a touch quieter.  

“Well, I have a coupon,” he replied simply.

You couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips, your brows raising incredulously. “A coupon? To Ricardo’s?”

“Mm-hm,” he nodded, straight-faced.

You rolled your eyes at his antics. He had a coupon, your ass. A well-dressed elderly couple walked past you both on the sidewalk, each shooting a look of disapproval toward the dirty young man leaning against his death machine. Benny seemed not to notice them, his gaze still on you. 

“Why are you here?” he questioned.

“I–I have a date,” you replied and desperately tried to ignore the heat rising to your face at the admission. “But something tells me you already know that.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking down to the ground for all of five seconds before his gaze flashed back up to you. “Wanna go for a ride, Little Bunny?”

“What? No.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why not?”

“Well, I just told you I'm here for a date,” you replied with a tilt of your head. 

Benny shrugged. “So?”

You shook your head but he continued, “Why are you wastin’ your time with dates when we’re gonna be married anyway?”

Your mouth fell open in surprise. The nerve on this guy! Part of you was surprised that he still had it in his head of marrying you. You thought maybe he had a few too many beers last night or was just smooth-talking you so that you’d let him sleep with you. But here he was, showing up on the sidewalk, giving you those puppy eyes. You’d already denied him once. Could he not take a hint?

“I don’t recall you ever asking.” you pointed out, feeling emboldened by his casual attitude. 

He perked up at that, tossing the remainder of his cigarette to the ground. “You want me to ask?”

You fought to remain neutral-faced at his playfulness. “No, thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . I have a date.” One that you were excited about before you caught sight of Benny and your train of thoughts completely derailed.

Benny held his hands up in a conciliatory way and you turned on your heel, leaving him out on the streets as you made your way inside.

******

The clock on the far wall seemed to be mocking you, minutes ticking by mercilessly. You resisted looking at it, instead planting your chin in the palm of your hand as you watched the door, waiting for Pete’s familiar face to appear. It had been over an hour. He was over an hour late for your date. 

Each time the waitress returned to fill your glass of water, you told yourself a new lie. He was just stuck at work, he’ll be here soon. He was running behind getting ready, he’ll be here soon. There must have been an emergency, he’ll be here soon. He wouldn’t stand you up, he’ll be here soon. 

But as the seconds passed, you sunk further and further into your seat, humiliation forming a ball in your stomach. Surely, he had gotten his days mixed up? He really seemed to enjoy your first date, so why was he nowhere to be seen. Every time someone walked through the front door, the little bell chiming above, you glanced up, certain it would be him. But it never was. At first, you were angry. How could he have the audacity to leave you hanging without so much as calling you before he left if he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it. Then a bitter thought came to mind: what if he stood you up because he didn’t want to go out with you again. What if you weren't good enough for him. You had spent your whole life on the never ending hamster wheel of trying to be good enough for everyone else. Was your hard work even noticed?

Recognizing the sting of unshed tears, you looked down at the napkin folded neatly in your lap, blinking rapidly in an attempt to get control of yourself. The bell chimed over the front door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at it, not wanting to feel the crushing disappointment of another wealthy customer walking inside and not your date. 

Then a flash of dark clothing popped across from you and you looked up just as Benny Cross slid into the empty seat. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. He leaned forward, elbows of his leather jacket propped over the tablecloth.

“Pete not show?” he asked, expression solemn. 

Your ears burned and you shook your head. Too preoccupied by your embarrassment, it didn’t even occur to you that you had never told him Pete’s name. 

He frowned and he genuinely appeared upset. Unable to maintain his direct gaze, you glanced away and caught the eyes of everyone else in the restaurant staring wide-eyed at the two of you. You realized that it was Benny who they were gawking at. And you didn’t seem to notice until now that he looked totally out of place with his worn clothes and dirty hands. As if sensing their not-so-subtle staring, Benny turned and looked about the room.

“What’s with all the stiff shirts in here?” he asked, sending you a conspiratorial glance. “I think they might be intimidated by you.”

“Me?” You furrowed your brow. It definitely wasn’t you they were looking at. In fact, the only person who was staring at you was Benny. 

“Yeah, I bet they’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you. Most people haven’t and they don't know how to act when they do.” He grinned and you had to look down at your lap as heat rose to your face.  

“I guess Pete wouldn’t agree,” you muttered quietly, feeling the anger in your heart fizzle out to meer disappointment. 

“Fuck Pete,” Benny said passionately, causing an elderly woman behind you to gasp and you giggled, shocked at his language. Benny was bad, he was trouble . . . but he was also fun, and you couldn’t hide your eagerness as he leaned his arms across the table, moving closer to address you privately. 

“You wanna get out of here, Bunny?” His question sent a gust of anticipation through your veins. 

“Yeah,” you admitted, smiling shyly. 

He stood quickly and you followed in suit. Then he did something that caused a wave of butterflies to roll through your stomach; he reached out and clasped his hand with you, interlocking fingers tightly. You grinned, excitement making you feel light and airy as he pulled you through the restaurant, past all the staring faces and harsh whispers and out the door into the night which felt alive with a whole new feeling of possibilities. 

*Tag List*

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe  @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan

[lavender-femme]

don’t call don’t text don’t read the tags if you don’t wanna see my sad thoughts

[bruisedboys]

remus who needs to make eye contact with reader when talking bc she has his full attention but she tries averting her gaze and he’s Tall so he does that thing where he bends his head down/chases her eyes so they maintain contact

ugh this!!!!!!!! he definitely does this, so hot of him honestly. I didn’t do justice to your idea at all but I gave it a shot!!!

rockstar!remus lupin x fem!reader

Remus gets off stage and he’s somehow a billion times hotter than he was two hours ago. It’s cruel. He’s the kind of handsome that begs to be looked at. You don’t blame his screaming fans. Not when you’d definitely be one of them if it weren’t for your lucky position of the bassists girlfriend.

“Hey,” Remus says, slinging his bass over his shoulder as he jogs towards you. His headset dangles around his neck, makeup smudged under his eyes and his hair in disarray, and yet he heads straight for you, brushing away a couple of techies who try to wave him down. He comes to a halt in front of you, still buzzing with onstage energy. “Can I hug you?”

“Yeah,” you nod, breathless and he’s only said a few words. He’s so handsome you can’t think straight. He hugs you hard, and you don’t even care that he’s sweating buckets. His arms cage you, strong and heavy, and he smells like sweat and musk, his cologne subtle but heady.

“You played amazing,” you tell him as his hands roam your back, one between your shoulder blades and another at the small of your back, pressing you in.

Remus pulls back, hot hands sliding to hold you by the shoulders. He squeezes you, calloused thumbs at your collar. He’s smiling so big you’re sure his cheeks hurt. “

“Cause I had my lucky charm,” he says, chucking you under the chin. “I’m so glad you came, pretty girl.”

Heat flares behind your cheeks. You can’t believe he’s real, can’t believe he’s this handsome and calling you pretty and telling you he’s glad you came to his show. As if you’d ever even think about being anywhere else tonight but here. You dip your head so you don’t have to look at his handsome face, opting instead for the dirty backstage floor.

“I’m glad I came too,” you mumble, toeing a rogue piece of confetti with the tip of your shoe.

Remus follows you down, bending to your height and tilting his head up so you’re forced to look him in the eyes. He’s gorgeous and he’s lovely and he’s so close you could kiss him.

“What did you say, sweetheart?” He asks, lips quirked, his mouth so close that his warm breath fans over your lips. “Can’t hear you when you get all shy like that.”

You groan. He’s awful. “I’m not shy,” you protest, though you are, especially with him. You stick your chin out in a show of fake confidence. “I said I’m glad I came too.”

Remus’ grins and thumbs your jaw, then cards a hand through his messy, sweaty hair. “Mm, I bet you are, sweetheart.”

You know he’s teasing. You don’t mind it as much as you should.

[jyoongim]

Please the lil ex-hubby fic got my heart melting I'm such a whore for jealous Al 😭

May we please have more jealous!Alastor. Maybe he didn't even know he liked reader THAT way until some sinner genuinely tries to court her and then he's just like "NOWP. Mine now."

This been sitting in my inbox for weeks!!!! I finally got around to it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor had always found you to be good company. He enjoyed having someone who could appreciate proper entertainment. He enjoyed the chats you two had and even let you join him when he went on outings. 

He considered you a friend.

So why is his eye twitching as you smiled, clutching a bouquet of flowers from the sinner who had asked you out? 

“Oh they are beautiful!” You beamed, pulling the sinner into a hug.

Alastor let out a soft growl, before materializing behind you, flashing the nervous man a sharp smile “Dearest who is this” he asked as his red eyes narrowed at the demon.

”My date for tonight silly. I told you I was going out for a night on the town” you giggled happily as you ushered the man inside.

”why don’t you two chat while i finish getting ready hmm?” You smiled reassuring at the demon before leaving.

Alastor smiled lovingly at you and as soon as you were out of sight, he set his sights on the sinner who was trying to avoid eye contact.

The sinner cleared his throat “I t-thought she was lying when she said she was friends with the Radio Demon”

awww he was trying to make small talk

Alastor eyes narrowed, “oooh so you know WHO I am?  Good good then introductions are pointless.” He stood tall, claws gripping his cane. “This ugh date you call taking her out on? Canceled.” The sinner eyes widened “w-what? No…no way! I been planning this for weeks!” He frowned. 

Alastor let out a chuckle “maybe you didn’t hear me”. The lobby lights flickered and he transformed slightly, growing in height, antlers curved to the ceiling and eyes as bright radio dials.

The sinner shook in fear as the Overlord leaned down til they were face to face “You will NOT be going out on a date tonight because 1. That pretty creature upstairs is way too good for you and 2. She’s mine. Now…when she comes back down, you’re gonna apologize and say something came up and NEVER contact her again. Or I eat you and I am happy either way…your choice”

He dawned an air of innocence as he let out a fake laugh when he heard you were close enough.

”I’m ready! How do I look?” You beamed, twirling around to show off your outfit. Alastor whistled, grabbing your hand and turning you in a slow spin, grinning “You are stunning my dear.”

You turned towards your date and he looked a bit shaken.

“U-Um s-something came up suddenly and…and im gonna have to cancel.” Your bright smile faded as he rubbed his neck nervously. A pout formed on your lips, as you wrapped your arms around yourself “O-oh…I see”

He looked at you and went to take a step forward but that only caused you to step back and into the Radio Demon’s embrace, seeking comfort.

Alastor pulled you into his chest ‘protectively’, rubbing your back soothingly ”oh it’s alright my dear. Im sure the two of you can reschedule this little date.”

The sinner mumbled his apology and slipped out the door.

You were pouting. You thought that he genuinely liked you. He even planned a whole date to your favorite club! So why…

You felt Alastor lift your chin, your pouty face making him grin.

”Since you’re already dressed how bout we go out on this date?” He asked tilting his head. You blinked at him, a little shocked “Y-You wanna go on a date with me?”

He chuckled, giving you a squeeze as he snapped his fingers and both your clothings changed to a more elegant style.

He raised your hand to his lips, red eyes wrinkling at you “Oh darlin I would be a fool to pass up the opportunity of having a pretty dame on my arm” he laughed as he twirled you around, before looping your arms and waltzing out the door.

[cobrakaisb]

day 'n' nite

summary: every friday night, like clockwork, the older counselors and campers waste their nights away at a party. usually you’re the one taking care of luke but tonight the roles are reversed and all the cards are laid out on the table.

word count: 3.1k

featuring: drunk!reader, happy luke + reader (hence the happy luke picture in the header), them being giggly and in love, a little sad at the end (but only a teeny tiny bit)

series masterlist ||| previous ||| next

giggles tumble out of your mouth, filling the already loud atmosphere with your pure joy. you clutch onto katrina’s arm, pulling her flush against your side, as your cheek rests on her bicep. she laughs at you, moving her arm to support your weight. 

you gasp, loudly, as her hand rests gently on your waist. “i have a boyfriend,” you snap, suddenly able to hold yourself up.

you stand, albeit a bit slowly, and move away from the girl. she does her best to hide her laughter, but fails. her laugh, however, builds up more anger in your chest, and you cross your arms.    

“oh he’s your boyfriend now? i thought you two didn’t do labels,” katrina teases.

you pout at her words, answering, “well luke says that not me. everyone knows we’re together.” 

“who’s together?” jade, a girl from the apollo cabin asks, sliding into the spot next to katrina.

you throw a nasty look in her direction, or what you assume is a nasty look. even in your inebriated state, you know that jade can’t be trusted. she was one of the first campers to hate on you, and she’s one of the few that continue to do so. once the novelty of hera having a demigod child wore off, most people left you to your own devices. there were still the occasional whispers and rumors, but jade and her friend group always seemed to be behind them. 

“none of your business,” you snap, turning your nose up at her like a fifth grader. 

she scoffs at you, “ugh whatever,” and walks away. 

you smile, a satisfied look on your face as you reclaim your seat next to katrina. she’s holding onto two cups, and you’re positive that one of them belongs to you. you reach for one of them, but she pulls it away, lifting it just out of your reach.

“i think you need a break,” she says, voice soft and caring.

“no ‘m fine,” you mumble, trying to reach for the cup again but completely missing. 

that’s the funniest thing in the world, and you burst into another giggling fit. katrina stares at you, a soft smile on her face. your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but your shoulders continue to shake with, now somewhat stifled, laughter. you can’t even register what’s so funny, but everything seems to have you in a giggly mood. one that only gets worse when luke walks across the way, followed by a group of boys who you know to be his friends.

“luke looks like a dragon prince,” you announce, pointing in his direction. 

katrina chuckles at your words; they make no sense. you, however, think they’re the most accurate description in the world. the orange and red hues from the large fire pit, courtesy of cabin nine, illuminate his features. he’s laughing at something one of his friends said, but his eyes are still deep and serious. the white scar tracing down his cheek shines brightly in the dark, and you wonder if landon knows he hurt his king. 

luke feels your eyes on him, because he turns and meets your gaze, smiling at you. you gasp as he throws you a subtle nod, like something out of a teen movie. your right hand clutches at katrina’s shirt sleeve, and you shake the material vigorously between your fingers. she looks to you, and notices the deep flush and dilated pupils. 

“he’s looking at me. i think he has a crush on me. oh my gods what do i do? i know my mother’s the goddess of marriage, but i’m not ready for this,” you ramble.

katrina laughs, again. luke looks your way, again. you start to panic, again. 

“relax,” katrina says, “he’s your boyfriend.” 

her tone is teasing, but you don’t pick up on it. all you feel is shock. your mouth falls open, and your head swivels between the curly headed boy and your best friend. 

“you’re lying,” you conclude. 

katrina shakes her head, “i’m not.” 

before you can refute her claims, the dragon king himself is in front of you. he slides into the empty seat on your left hand side, throwing his arm casually over your shoulder. there’s a can of something in his other hand, and he lifts it up to his mouth for a swig. you watch, with deep fascination, as his adam’s apple bobs while he swallows the liquid. when he’s done, he leans down to your ear, lips ghosting over the piercings that adorn it. 

“hi,” he whispers, pulling at your golden hoop helix piercing with his teeth.

you're stunned into silence. all that you can muster is a small gasp, and you turn to katrina, wondering what you should do. she’s already staring at you, but so are these other two guys, and a girl who you barely recognize. you point to luke with your thumb, asking a silent question. katrina nods, and one of the guys, another brunette, hides his laugh behind a red solo cup. 

you turn your head again, making eye contact with the cute guy next to you. you just stare at him for a while, and he holds your gaze the whole time. his right hand, you realize, is tracing circles on your exposed shoulder. the pad of his thumb is calloused and rough against your soft skin, but you like to contrast. you lean into his touch, shifting closer to him on the wooden bench. 

“ouch,” you mumble, lifting up your hand. 

“what’s wrong?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“i think i got a splinter,” you explain, holding up your palm for him to see. 

he inspects your hand, and there’s absolutely nothing there, but replies, “don’t worry. i’ll take you to the infirmary tomorrow.”

you nod, and he kisses your palm, right where the supposed splinter is. his lips are soft, you think, but then why is everyone giggling? you look around, but none of the four people surrounding the two of you provide any sort of explanation. 

“i know. my girlfriend makes me use this lip balm she really likes,” he says, and you’re still confused. 

“huh?” you ask, head tilting. 

“my girlfriend gave me this lip balm. it’s from glossy or something,” he answers, holding up the tube. 

you snatch it from him, looking at the label. even drunk, you know a high quality lip balm when you see one. 

“glossier! i love it there,” you exclaim.

everyone laughs again, even the boy next to you this time. you look at him, a shy smile on your face, as you unscrew the cap. you squeeze the tube, and lift the lip balm to your puckered lips. you rub them together, smacking them a couple times. luke doesn’t take his eyes off you; you don’t take your eyes off him. 

there’s relatively no distance between you two now, but you can’t bring yourself to care. luke doesn’t seem to mind either as he shifts his arm and way that pulls your body even closer to his. the little space that remained is gone, and your thighs are pressed together. you want to be touching him in some way, and lift your left leg to drape over his right one. you nudge his left calf with your converse, gaining his attention. you giggle at that, stifling your laughs with his shoulder. 

“she’s gone,” he observes. 

“oh i know,” katrina answers. 

“you smell so good,” you say, adjusting your head so that your cheek rests against him, and your eyes meet his. 

the two boys, the ones who you can’t recognize at the moment, burst out laughing. your eyebrows furrowed at that, a soft huff escaping you as you cross your arms and lean further into luke. you close your eyes for a minute, basking in his warm presence and the smoky undertones emitting from his shirt. 

“how many drinks have you had?” he asks, large hand rubbing up and down your back. 

“two,” you answer confidently, holding up two fingers. 

katrina scoffs, “try three cups of jungle juice and whatever else at the pregame.” 

“you pregamed?” luke asks, voice low against your ear. 

“mhm. cause what if they didn’t have any drinks i liked?” you reply, holding your hands up in defense. 

he chuckles at your words, humming in agreement as he kisses your forehead. that action, for some reason, registers as oddly intimate in your mind, and so you’re pushing him away. in your drunken state, you can't comprehend that he’s your boyfriend.

“i shouldn’t be doing this. katrina says i have a boyfriend,” you slur, shaking your head. 

“no, you said you have a boyfriend,” katrina replies. 

“well either way!” you yell, throwing your hands up in exasperation. 

“isn’t he your boyfriend?” one of the boys asks, pointing to luke.

“he can’t be. he’s too hot,” you answer confidently. 

everyone laughs at that, except for you and luke. luke’s cheeks are flushed red, but he looks at you with nothing but love and adoration in his eyes. he smiles at you, gently shaking his head in disbelief. 

you shrink back into yourself, slouching down in his arms so that the back of your head rests against his shoulder. luke’s hand fiddles with the hem of your jeans, fingers ghosting over your hips, and you squirm. you shove his hand away, covering your face with your own. 

“what’s wrong?” he asks, bending down so only you can hear him.

“i embarrassed myself,” you whine, peeking at him through a gap in your fingers.

luke chuckles, “it’s okay baby. i still love you.” 

you light up at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck. you pull his face down to yours, smacking kisses all over, only stopping to giggle from pure, unfiltered happiness. normally, you save the affection for the private confines of your cabins, but all of your reservations are out the window at the moment. 

luke smiles brightly at your actions, dimples and everything, as he squeezes your hips three times. it’s your silent code, an unspoken way for the two of you to communicate your love and appreciation for one another, and you smile happily at his use of it. you hug him again, burying your face into the crook of his neck. you can tell that he’s been smoking, and maybe that’s why his eyes are a little red-rimmed. you don’t mind, however, and opt to keep your head resting there. his arms wrap securely around you, cradling your body the way someone would hold a toddler. 

“tired?” he asks, rubbing a hand down your back.

you want to say no, but the giant yawn betrays you. 

“c’mon, i’ll bring you to bed,” he says, patting your thigh to signal for you to get up. 

you agree, holding out your hand for him to take. once your fingers are safely stowed away in his palm, you walk up to katrina. 

“goodnight tree,” you mumble, hugging her tightly. 

“g’night,” she replies, squeezing you just as tight.

with that, you let luke lead you towards the hera cabin as you focus on not tripping over your own feet. you stumble on the stairs, and luke squeezes your waist, holding you steady. he’s your rock, and you don’t know what you’d do without him. 

he opens the door, waiting for you to enter the cabin before following. you look around, and your eyes land on the giant statue taking up a majority of the room. you gasp, hands covering your mouth, as you meet your mother’s cold and calculating stare. 

“i don’t think she should be seeing me like this. can we go to your cabin?” you ask, turning to face luke.

“it’s a statue,” luke deadpans, shaking his head.

“but she’s all knowing,” you reply, pointing to the marble goddess. 

“you’re gonna be fine,” luke explains softly. 

you’re eyes are wide, and you continuously shake your head no. you grab onto luke’s hand, intertwining your fingers together. his hand is rough and worn from all the training he does, a testament to how long he’s been at camp. your mind wanders back to his position as king of the dragons, and you want to ask him if his hands are scarred from the claws of a rival. yet, it doesn’t seem appropriate, so you keep your mouth shut. 

“where’s you toiletry bag?” luke ask, letting go of you hand as he wanders around the cabin. 

“i don’t know,” you answer, following him towards the area you’ve deemed your bed. 

he huffs, standing back from the bed to monitor the situation. his hands are on his hips, eyes scanning the area for your bag with makeup remover, skincare, and other bathroom necessities. you find the pose extremely comical, and laugh. he looks at you over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“what’s so funny?” he asks.

“you look like my dad,” you wheeze. 

he pauses, mouth agape like a fish out of water. he opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, but ultimately comes up empty handed. just when it seems like he’s about to say something, you’re bounding over to your bedside table, grabbing a bag that’s clearly overloaded. 

“found it!” you shout. 

luke cringes at the volume, but takes the bag from your hands without further questioning. he marches over to your closet, the one he helped you set up, and grabs a small towel from one of the shelves. you smile at him. he’s so endearing, you think, how’d i get so lucky?

“let’s go to the bathroom,” he says, tilting his head towards the door of your cabin.

you nod in agreement, taking his outstretched hand. luke smiles at you, allowing you to lead the way, despite your drunken state. he admires your beauty in the moment, although he knows you’d argue you’re anything but. your makeup is messy, your cheeks are flushed from all the alcohol, and your top is falling off your shoulder, yet he still believes that you can rival aphrodite. he shouldn’t think that, he realizes, as she’s one of the only gods he still prays to, but he does. 

the two of you enter the bathroom, and you're surprised by how empty it is. however, the peace and quiet is nice for a usually chaotic space. you decide on a mirror and sink in the middle of the collection, and turn to face luke, waiting for his approval. when he sets the bag down, and removes the towel from his shoulder, you know you’ve made a good choice. 

“alright, let’s take your makeup off,” he says, patting the small of your back. 

you fumble with the zipper of your pouch, trying and failing to get the bag opened. you pout, holding it out to luke, with a pleading look in your eyes. 

“i’ll help you. you want to sit on the counter?” he asks.

you nod, and turn around so your back is towards the sink and mirrors. you brace yourself, ready to test your physical strength in your drunken state. you fail the first attempt, not even making it onto the ledge. luke watches, amusement clear in his eyes, because it’s not like you to ask for help. 

“need a hand?” 

“no i can do it! i’m a demigod,” you answer, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

he chuckles at your response, but goes back to digging through your bag for the cotton pads and micellar water. he also takes out your face wash, moisturizer, toothbrush, toothpaste, and other skin care items he thinks you might need. 

“luke,” you whisper, tugging on his sleeve. 

he hums in acknowledgment, turning away from the array of products to face you. 

“help?” you ask with a shy smile. 

“i thought you didn’t need it, cause your a demigod,” he teases, crossing his arms. 

you’re drawn to his muscles, flexing against his tee and you’re temporarily left speechless. he’s just so hot, you think. 

“gods i hope my mom answers my prayers,” you blurt out. 

“about what?” 

“us getting married. i really want to. i think…if we were in vegas, i’d drag you down to the chapel,” you reply. 

luke’s mouth drops open in shock, “you think about marrying me?”

“nonstop,” you answer, finally climbing onto the counter. 

he stands there for a minute, unsure of what to say or do. all he knows is that he thinks about getting married to you too. he envisions you, regal as ever, like the true daughter of the queen of the gods, walking towards him down an aisle. it’d be small. you, him, and a handful of close friends, but every single part of it would be meaningful. 

“let’s get you ready for bed,” he says, changing the conversation. 

“okay!” 

it takes him much longer than usual to get you through your bedtime routine, but he doesn’t mind if you don’t. and, you seem pretty content right now. you’re smiling and giggling, making goofy faces at him in the mirror with toothpaste smeared on your chin and a fluffy headband keeping your hair at bay. the whole scene feels oddly domestic, especially when he takes your towel and gently wipes the corners of your mouth. it’s serene. it’s perfect. 

“you’re perfect y’know that?” he asks, looking at you earnestly. 

you flush, turning away from him. 

“stop.”

“‘m not lying! you’re perfect for me,” he whispers, cupping your cheeks. 

you pucker your lips, and luke lays a gentle kiss on them. you burst into giggles, engulfing him in a hug. 

“i want to change. come back to my cabin? please?”

he agrees, following you to the end of the earth. it was an easy request, nothing too extraordinary.

“let me get my pajamas, and then i’ll be right back, okay?” he mumbles, kissing your forehead before leaving you alone with the eternal glow of hera’s flames. 

by the time he gets back, you're standing in one of his tee shirts and a pair of sleep shorts. he’s just wearing a tank top and flannel pants, put he comes up behind you to wrap you in his arms. you away for a minute, dancing to a song only you two can hear. then, you wiggle out of his grasp, climb into bed, and pull the covers up to your chin.

“come lie with me,” you beg, patting the spot next to you.

he wraps you up on his arms, pulling you flush against his chest. once your breaths even out, he sneaks out of the bed, waiting just a second to make sure you don’t wake up. quietly, he pulls the candy out of his pocket — two blue raspberry jolly ranchers.

“please hera, let me marry her. aphrodite, keep her by my side, whatever it takes. please.” 

and for the first time in a long time, luke castellan makes a genuine offering.

taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo @hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @maraschinocherry3 @used2beeeeee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcilla @obxstiles

[motheyes]

oh man another fucking long ass night

[theorphicangel]

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: miguel being whipped for his s/o after sex :)

tags: suggestive, 18+, aftercare, soft Miguel, fluffy

panting, you lay your head back on the pillow, thighs still shaking as you come down from your high.

a whimper leaves your throat once you feel Miguel pull out, leaving behind a sore feeling of emptiness within you.

He’s quick to clean you up. tissues on the bedside table as well as two bottles of water. The way you like them, fresh and cold. his chest rises and falls heavily as sweat forms at his brow. strays of his coffee-brown locks sticking to his forehead.

He gently wipes at your inner thigh. your hand is still positioned on his shoulder, feeling his muscles flex with every move he makes.

Miguel leaves a tender kiss on your arm. “you did so good for me, mi amor.”He hands you a bottle, removing the cap before giving it to you.

you take a few small sips before gesturing the bottle back to him. He stares, unimpressed.

“a little more.”

you obey, reluctantly, sipping until the bottle is less than half full. Miguel takes your bottle and fastens the cap. And before you know it, he’s laying on your chest underneath the covers with you.

“ugh, you’re so heavy.” your hand immediately reaches for his hair, an automatic habit.

“mhm, you tired me out tonight.”

you fake a gasp, fingers running softly through his hair. “I tired out the miguel o’hara?”

you feel his chest vibrate as he chuckles softly. “don’t tell anyone, it could ruin my reputation.”

“cross my heart and swear to die.” you say as you mark an x on your chest.

the two of you bask in a comfortable silence, a natural hum heard in the room. you continue to play with his hair, fingertips lost in his locks before you notice a pair of eyes staring.

“what?” you whisper.

Miguel continues to stare at you, unresponsive. letting silence become his answer for a few moments before speaking.

“you’re glowing, nena.”

“Am I?” you chuckle softly, slightly shy at his eyes glued onto your face. you always caught him looking at you like that, like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. it didn’t matter if you had just woken up or returned from work after a busy and stressful day, or if you had walked out in a simple tee and jeans.

he alwayed seemed to look at you with a starstruck look in his eyes.

And that is the very look he had now.

A smile slips onto his lips, his voice low. “Carajo, eres tan guapa.” [fuck, you’re so beautiful]

you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“I’m serious, nena.” and his tone exemplifies that too. his eyes search all over your face. “¿Cómo tuve tanta suerte?” [how was I so lucky?]

“dunno’,” your hand trails down to his cheek, caressing his skin. he’s glowing too, you think. “How did I get lucky with you?”

“maybe it was fate.” he whispers, his eyes falling to your lips.

“maybe it was.” Miguel murmurs, inching closer to you. Simultaneously, you pull him towards you, your hand still on his cheek.

The moment your lips meet, a spark is lighted within you again. you can tell he’s being gentle, making sure not to place his body weight entirely on you.

when you finally part, a rush of adrenaline runs through your body once more. a heat emerging between your thighs for an nth time.

“you think you still got enough energy for one more round, o’hara?”

“always for you, my love.”

reblogs are much appreciated!

[whaddayadothatfor]

Ctenizidae

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re an anomaly from another universe. You’re not dangerous though, so Miguel’s made the executive decision to keep you around until more dangerous criminals are caught and sent home first. Unless that’s not the only reason he’s decided to keep you around…

Content warnings: dub-con, voyeurism, masturbation, obsessive!Miguel

WC: ~1k

AN: Y’all this is so unedited but I wanted to write smut for this man so I did! If y’all like it I can post a second, smuttier part.

MDNI

“Here.” You drop a small plastic bin of chocolate chip cookies in front of Miguel. As a peace offering. No, really.

Miguel raises his right eyebrow in question. He doesn’t even answer you anymore. The other Spider-people go about their day in the cafeteria, having seen this scene time and time again.

Every day for the past two weeks since you were suddenly teleported to Nueva York and promptly labeled an anomaly, you’ve been practically begging Miguel to send you home. He’s declined every time.

This is pretty much how the conversation goes each time:

“Miguel, I think I should—“

“No. We have to send the most dangerous anomalies back to their universe first—“

“I’m dangerous! I’m plenty dangerous.”

“The only thing you’ve maimed, tortured, and killed in the past month is a flippin’ houseplant. You’re staying.”

You see how frustrating this man is?

So you’ve decided that maybe bribery— sorry, a peace offering— will work better. Hence, the cookies.

“Maybe if you eat something sweet you’ll stop being so bitter and stubborn all the time,” you smile tightly. “Then you’ll find it in your heart— the one that shrunk three sizes— to let me go home.”

“I appreciate the offering— though you could use some more creativity in your approach— but just know that these won’t get you home.” He pries open the container and lifts one to his mouth before moaning in delight. “These are delicious. Thank you,” he said, sucking the melted chocolate off of his thumb. His overly enthusiastic groans were clearly a tactic to piss you off, and it worked.

You simmer in anger as he smirks while chewing his cookie. You try to snatch the bin back, but he moves it out of your way.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he says, pushing up from the small table he was sitting at and leaning down to whisper near your ear. “No take-backsies.”

He flustered you, and he knew it. He laughed as he walked away. You stuttered a retort in embarrassment, but he didn’t even have the decency to turn around.

“Ugh, I hate that guy,” you stomped in anger. You muttered several curses before you turned around to leave, only to see several wide-eyed Spideys staring at you in concern. This is why you wait until after you’re alone to throw a tantrum— it scares the locals. Whoops. “Uhh, carry on. My bad. Enjoy your lunch!”

You quickly walk away, feeling defeated. But it doesn’t matter, you’ve got nothing but time. You’ll catch him when he’s sleeping. He’s gotta be more amenable then.

Later

“You know, just for the record, I think you going to his room this late at night is a terrible idea,” Lyla warned as she flitted between standing and reclining with her arms crossed behind her neck.

“Well I think him keeping me here is a terrible idea. I guess we’re all full of them.”

“Seriously—“

“Lyla I don’t care! I’ve got a family to get back to. Friends, a life. I don’t care how fine that man is, I’m going back home. Tonight, preferably.”

“Whatever, it’s your funeral.” She acquiesced before disappearing into the ether, just as you arrived at his door.

“Wait, Lyla! Open the door.” Without a response, the door opened. “Thanks, Lyla.”

You walked in to the large room to see Miguel sitting up in a chair near the center of the room.

“Miguel, you need to listen to me—“

The sight that met you was so shocking you had to take it in one part at a time.

First, You see Miguel’s side profile as he faces the wall to the left of you. He’s breathing heavy, chest heaving as his hand vigorously moves up and down his— oh. Maybe you came at the wrong time.

With the sudden awkwardness that’s overtaken you, you look somewhere else, anywhere else, only to find the source of what he’s staring at— a video, no, porn. The second piece of the puzzle, you take in the video’s content. First, you just see flashes of skin and hear soft grunts and moans emanating from the screen. But then you realize, the voices sound familiar, really familiar. Then it hits you.

It is you.

And him. The both of you together. And that realization connects all the pieces of the puzzle together. He’s keeping you here, on purpose.

Your eyes dart back to Miguel, who has now abandoned his video in favor of the live view he has right in front of him. He’s shirtless but he still has some grey sweats on, pushed down just enough that he can jerk off. His hands move desperately over his cock, aborted grunts and breathy moans coming out sporadically.

He turned his head to the side, his cheeks flushed and his eyes narrowed with desire. You were frozen, stuck in time. Miguel kept stroking his cock while staring into your eyes. He did this right up until his orgasm overtook him, throwing his head back and jerking his hips upward as he called out your name.

His cum spurted out in waves, once, twice, three times. It was thick and opaque and made a mess all over his lower stomach. He sighed and sank back into his chair.

“Did you enjoy the show?” His voice is low and heady as he calls out to you. It takes you a moment to respond, because admittedly you’re still staring at his— well, his everything, dick included. Still It was a very, very nice, thick, veiny d—“Am I interrupting?”

His teasing knocks you out of your reverie.

“I-I should go.” You said. You’re starting to realize that Lyla might have been right. Maybe you should’ve waited until the morning. You start backing up to leave but Miguel shakes his head and the door shuts behind him.

“No, no, no. See, that’s your problem. You’re always trying to leave,” he chastises.

He stalks towards you, like you’re prey. You move backwards until your back hits the door. He reaches over you, placing an arm over your head and his index finger under your chin, lifting it upwards. He bends down, close enough that you can see even minute details of his face.

He narrows his eyes as he bares his fangs.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

[bouncybongfairy]

First off, I love your writing and I can’t get enough really. I’ve been obsessed with your atla stuff and I was wondering if you’d be down to write for Sokka. Any smut really but like something like, you’re traveling with the gaang and there’s tons of tension with him. If not no hard feelings whatsoever, just a suggestion.

Do You?

Sokka x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: There's been a lot of tension between you and Sokka for the past couple of weeks. After and heated argument, Anng send both of you to get some air. Sokka finds you in a tavern after a couple of drinks and both your feelings come to the surface.

Word Count: 1.0k+

TW: Smut

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Appa had been sick for the past couple days, meaning you guys were basically stranded until he was better. It didn’t help that you and Sokka had been going at it lately. You weren’t really sure why but everything he did drove you crazy. Anng paired the two of you up to skin the fish for tonight's dinner. The entire time he was criticizing you about how you were descaling it. Bragging about back home he could prepare a fish faster than anyone.

“Oh so since you’re the best and can do it ‘fAsTeR tHaN aNyOnE’ you can do this on your own,” you said, standing up and wiping your hands. 

“Sloppy help is better than no help,” he huffed. 

“Whatever, I'll go help Katara,” you said. 

“Wait no- okay I’ll chill with the critiques. Let me teach you,” he said, reaching his hand out. 

Without saying anything, you walked back over and sat on your knees. He sat behind you, his knees on the outside of your hips and thighs. Giving you the knife and securing your grip with his own. Holding onto the outsides of your hands as he instructed. As he talked, you could feel his breath against the back of your neck. Due to him being so close to your ear, he lowered his voice. Speaking with a soft and gentle tone, making your ears burn slightly. You began unknowingly letting yourself enjoy this. The way you could feel his chest rising and falling against your back. Liking the feeling of his body against yours and his smell engulfing your nose. 

“See,even you can do it!” he said in an extremely patronizing way. 

“Fuck off,” you said, feeling overwhelmed by how much you were enjoying his touch. Also not appreciating his poking fun at you even more. 

“Ugh you’re exhausting, even when I try being nice you push me away. Can't you see that I like -ahem- that I’m like, trying to make an effort!” he said, cheeks flushing red. 

“That’s it! I’m tired of hearing the two bickering none stop. Both of you need space from each other! Sokka you go that way, y/n you go that way. I don’t care what you do, but don’t come back until you figure out why both of you are so insufferable!” Anng yelled, slamming his glider onto the ground. 

The two of you made intense eye contact before walking away. Luckily for you, he sent you in the direction of a local market in the village. The walk gave you a lot of time to think; when he was helping you skin the fish, it felt like he had underlying feelings. Like he was purposely finding an excuse to be close to you. The tone in his voice was different, you never heard him talk like that to anyone else.​​ The way he slid his hands along your arms before grabbing your hands. It was becoming evident that the frustration and tension you’ve been feeling wasn’t caused by anger. 

You finally reached a tavern, it wasn’t much but it was cozy. Drunk men singing and goofing off with each other. A group of women gossiping with each other adjacent to a group of men playing Pai Sho. Immediately feeling out of place, you walk up to the barmaid and ask for whatever she recommended. Which ended up being some type of fermented wine. One of the young men comes up to you, trying to engage in conversation. 

“Are you new to town? I’ve been coming here for a couple years but I've never seen you,” he says, smiling while holding his drink. 

“Oh um, yeah I’m just staying in town for a couple days,” you explain, finishing off your drink and ordering another one. 

“Aww that’s a shame, I bet I could convince you to stay for a little longer,” he said, which made you giggle. 

You were now polishing off your third drink, watching the game. Enjoying the music, making conversation with the other patrons. Dancing with the group of young women from earlier. You didn’t realize Sokka was watching you from the wooden doors. Eventually the young gentlemen who you were speaking with earlier, starts to dance with you. Sokka was visibly getting more irritated, watching his hand travel down your back. Once the guy wrapped his arms around you, pressing himself against you from behind, he couldn’t control himself. Stomping over and pulling you out of the dude's grip. Your heart sank once your eyes fell onto him. Like you’d been caught doing something wrong, looking you up and down with such disappointment.

“We're leaving,” Sokka growled, grabbing you by the upper arm gently. 

“Does she want to leave with you,” the guy asked. 

“Do you?” Sokka asked, looking down at you. Feeling quite tipsy it made you nervous to speak. Like if you opened your mouth, only stupidness would come out. He was looking at you with such intensity and jealousy, you nodded your head in agreement. Leading you out of the building, into an alley behind the building. Giving you two some privacy while waiting for him to talk. 

“Are you mad?” you asked. 

“I feel like I've dropped all the hits I can. I don’t know if this is like… your way of making me just admit it but I like you. If you keep pushing me away every time I come onto you then I just won’t anymore. I can’t take it,” he said, walking over to the river bank. Letting his hair free from its pony tail out of frustration. Falling onto his knees and splashing some cool water onto his face. Seeing how disappointed he was in your actions made you feel stupid. Like you were blind to all his advances and playful teasing and it was too late to let your feelings known. However, you were drunk enough to at least give it a shot. Walking over to him and joining where he sat in the grass. 

“I think I was just nervous -hiccup- to tell you how I felt. Then because I was holding all my feelings inside, I became standoffish. I’m sorry,” you said, brushing the partially wet hair off his face before continuing, “Please don’t think I’m only saying this because I drank. Drunk thoughts are sober words… or is it sober words are drunk thoughts,” you begin making him laugh. 

“Are you gonna make me ask for a kiss?” you asked, he took your offer and smashed his lips against yours. 

Lips melting together as you straddle his lap. He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue over it. Moaning as you started grinding down on his dick print. The alcohol in your system was making you more ballsy, desperately grinding yourself against him. Enjoying the friction against your clit. Sokka’s mouth hung open as bucked his hips up. Gripping your hips tightly, helping work you on him. He was sitting up, back against the back wall of the tavern. You were holding his face in your hands, moaning and panting against his lips. Pressing his forehead against your chest as he started to cum. His hips spasming from underneath, you could feel his length spasm against your core, sending you into climax. Time slowed while fire was pooling in your lower abdomen and you frantically rubbed yourself against him. Letting your head fall towards, letting him support your weight while cooling down. Both of you walking hand and hand, his giving you a piggy back ride once you became too tired. 

“Great, see sometimes a little space does people good. Glad you guys worked it out,” Anng said as the two of you walked to separate tents. 

“Oh trust me, we really worked through our problems,” Sokka remarked before everyone turned in.

[artdcnaldson]

ugh "leverage" to ensure she won't go tattling to patrick. especially as he starts getting meaner and meaner, he tells her it's to make sure she doesn't back out and tell on him. because patrick would genuinely kill art if he knew what he's been doing to his baby sister.

i know it doesn't really fit in the canon of the other parts to this au, but hear me out anyway... what if he agreed to fuck her, properly this time, in her sweet little pussy. BUT he needs said leverage to make sure she keeps quiet about it (truly he just needs to immortalize taking her virginity so he can watch it back for the rest of his life). so he "agrees", he's the one to bring it up lol, on the condition that he can record it. y'know like really shitty, amateur, pov style, on her creaky dorm bed and pink, frilly sheets. shaky and grainy, but it's good enough for him. it's not like he would ever actually post it anywhere or show people, but she doesn't know that.

he gets off on how nervous she is when he points the camera at her, she's blushing and trying to hide her face. but he just slaps her cheek and manhandles her to look right down the lens of his shitty phone camera. tells her to moan louder around his big cock, tell the camera how good he feels, really just stroking his own ego. makes her tell the camera exactly how he's making her feel, can't cum unless she asks into the camera. he nearly cums right inside her when she tells him he's too big and it hurts :(((((

yummy yummy yummy

-🐞

OHHHHHHH <3 I had to let this simmer. This had to ruminate. Had to really let it sit and grow legs or whatever wine people say idk

RATING: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v, degradation, making a sex tape, loss of virginity, world’s worst aftercare), mean!art as always, uncomfortable power dynamics, DUBCON due to coercion

He catches you leaving one of your classes, chatting happily with a few girls as you walk. Their eyes widen as he approaches, smacking his gum, looming tall over them. You murmur a quick apology and bound over like an obedient little pet, falling into stride beside him as he walks.

“What class is that?” He asks, nodding back towards the building. Most of the time he forgot you even attended the school beyond cheering at his games and floating around his dormitory like a ghost.

“Peoples and cultures,” you reply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s an anthropology course I’m taking. It’s actually really interesting, like, these past few lectures have been—“

“What are you doing tonight?” He interrupts, not really caring beyond the simple answer to his question. He has a one track mind, and for the moment he’s just thinking about getting in your pants.

He watches you think, then shrug. “Um… nothing, I guess? Why?”

Art stops by a tree suddenly, tugs you by your wrist to stop with him. “Do you promise if we fuck you won’t tell Patrick?” He watches as your eyes widen, as sheer need and excitement makes you practically vibrate out of your skin.

Frantically you nod. “I’d never tell Patrick, I’d take it to my grave, I swear,” you say, totally earnest, bouncing on the balls of your feet as he looks at you.

“God, I want you so bad,” he hums, brushing your hair back behind your ear. You melt beneath his touch, gaze all half-lidded and soft. “I just… I think I’d have to have some leverage, just to make sure no one ever finds out.”

You tilt your face, resting it on his hand, your eyes half-lidded and dazed with need. You hum a soft, “Mhmm,” without even knowing what he’s implying, what he’s asking of you. But he hears what you’re thinking, all dumbed down and needy— yes, Art, whatever you say Art, anything you want, Art.

He wants to do it in your room, that night. He walks you back to your dorm and tells you to get your roommate out, make sure she’s busy for however long you need. He’d text you when he’s on his way.

So you’re just… fucking vibrating with excitement, cleaning up your dorm, changing your sheets, fluffing your pillows. You light three warm vanilla sugar candles so the dorm smells nice and sweet, put on your roommate’s SEXXXMIXXX <3 CD that she had burned in High School (and kept your fingers crossed it was still relevant). You took the longest fucking shower of all time, scrubbed your skin until it stung, shaved you’re entire body, wondered if maybe he wouldn’t like bald pussy, then worried that he’d hate if you kept the hair even more. Moisturized, then put on pretty, light makeup— lipgloss, mascara. All in the span of time it took for him to text you.

Art :) <3

omw

You feel a little dizzy by the time he’s at your door, already wet just anticipating what you were about to do. He grins down at you, at your silky little pajama set, pink and lacy around the edges. Smacks his gum, trails his hand along the sides of your waist.

“Pretty.” He looks smug as he rubs the lace between his fingers. “You got all dressed up for me, huh?”

It’s amazing how timid and shy you can look as you stand in front of him, biting onto your lip as you nod. He shuts the door behind him and guides you backwards until you knock against your bed and laugh nervously. Jesus, he’d already fucked your ass, your throat, he’d done things to you that even the dirtiest fucking sluts on campus wouldn’t dream of allowing. But you’re all shy because he’s finally going to fuck you properly?

You gasp as he tugs down the neckline of your top, exposing your tits to the cool air of the dorm. So cute, soft. Your nipples already hard and sensitive, so just the lightest pinch makes you let out a pretty moan.

“Remember what I said about leverage?” Art says, and you nod slowly, dreamily. “I want to film it.”

Your eyes widen slightly, as you think back to the pictures he’d taken of you just a few weeks prior. “And you’d… what? Like post it if Pat finds out?”

“No, no, only if you tell,” he corrects. Even then… he doubted he’d actually ever post it anywhere. He had a tennis career to consider, after all. But the important thing was that you believe he will. “It’s just to make sure this stays our secret.”

You swallow, consider it. You didn’t plan on telling Patrick, so it was fine, right? He’d hate Art, and you didn’t want that. You would never want that, no matter what.

So you nod softly. “Okay,” you say finally. “I’d… yeah, I understand. Okay.”

God, you’re easy. So fucking easy it makes him a little sick to think about. What if he wasn’t Patrick’s friend, if he was some frat house asshole who would take advantage of how bad you wanted him? You’re so lucky he’s a good person.

He uses your own fucking digital camera— pink and decorated with little heart stickers. Turns it on and records you as you slip off your sweet silky pajamas, revealing soft, smooth skin beneath. You’re so shaky, so nervous. You can’t even look into the lens.

“No panties?” He asks, lips quirked into a grin. He steps forward to slip his hand between your thighs, to cup your pussy in one big hand. God, you’re so fucking wet, just like you usually are. He could just slide right in without any resistance, just bury himself right inside that tight little pussy. “Jesus, you’re a fucking mess, just dripping for it, aren’t you?”

You moan, relishing in the feeling of his hands on you. Art never touched you, not to get you off, at least. So the feeling of his thick calloused fingers against your cunt makes you whine. He breaches your entrance with just a fingertip and grins at the feeling of you clenching around the intrusion, desperate for anything he’ll give you.

But the relief is gone as soon as you’ve gotten it. He pats your thigh, nods to the bed. “Go lay down. Let me film you stretching yourself out for me.”

“Art,” you whine once you’ve laid down, embarrassed as he trains the lens on you. “Do you have to film this part?”

It just makes him double down, grinning smugly as he settles at the foot of the bed. “C’mon, just fucking do it. Show the camera how fucking wet you get for me.” You hear the whir of him zooming in as your hand slips between your thighs, as lithe fingers slide through your soaking wet folds and you tease your clit. He groans softly, grinning at the sight on the camera. “Alright, spread yourself out now. Show me how small and tight you are.”

You whimper pathetically, but obey. Your fingers form a V as you spread your lips, revealing the pretty, drippy hole of your cunt. He doesn’t even have to tell you to start fucking yourself, you just do. Pretty, manicured fingers disappearing inside the tight channel of your pussy, slow and easy as you pant and gasp sweetly.

“Can you do three?” He asks. He zooms the camera out, makes sure he gets all of you— your tits heaving with each breath, the slow grind of your hips to meet your fingers. You nod softly, press a third finger alongside the other two. He grins at the sight of the stretch of your cunt around them, how your body works to accommodate them. “God, it’s a tight stretch, huh?”

“Mhmm.” You moan as you pump your fingers slow, in and out. Wet to the point of it sounding obscene. Slick dripping out with each thrust, making your fingers glisten.

He can hardly take sitting there and watching, but god, he’d love it later on when he was alone with only the video to keep him company. But who knows? Maybe he’d fuck you once and never want anyone else. He already felt that way… kind of. You were so eager, so obsessed with him. You touched him like it was an act of worship. He couldn’t get that from easy pussy.

He sets the camera down on the foot of the bed while he undresses, tugging off his sweats and tee shirt, mussing up his hair in the process. It’s not lost on him, the way your fingers speed up at the sight of his cock, how needy and desperate you are.

“How bad do you want it?” He asks as he picks up the camera.

God, he’s mean. You whine when he grabs your wrist and makes you slip your fingers from inside of your cunt. Empty, needy, desperate. “Please, fuck me, Art.” You’re embarrassed, of course you are. He has a camera focused on your needy little expression, one hand on your thigh all warm and possessive. “Please, I’ve been so good for you. I’ve done everything you’ve asked. I just need you, I need you inside of me. Want you to be my first. Please, Art.”

He’s not sure where he wants the camera as he notches the head of his cock at your wet little hole. Part of him wants to film the second he buries his cock inside of that tight fucking cunt, but the other wants to film your face, watch how pretty you look as you take your very first cock.

And god, you’re trembling beneath him. Visibly shaking with anticipation, or nerves, or need. He runs a hand along your torso, cups one of your tits in his hands and thumbs over your sensitive nipple. “What, are you cold?” He teases.

“N-no,” you stammer, meeting his gaze. “Just— I just want it so bad.”

He films your face, which was the right call, he decides. He has to think about it technically, or he’ll risk blowing his load one pump in, like a total fucking loser. You’re so tight around him, clamping down on his cock as he sheaths himself within you, inch after inch. And god, that angelic face of yours— mouth agape, wet and pink and pretty, the tiniest furrow between your brows, lashes splayed against your cheeks as you moan, soft and sweet. “Hurts,” you practically whimper. “God, Art, fuck, it feels—“

He films where your cunt swallows him, stretched to the point of obscenity around his thick cock. It shouldn’t even be able to take him, not when you’re so small, so fucking tight. It’s a fucking miracle you’d even taken a toy before. He’d make you film that next. All desperate, fucking yourself on silicon while you drooled over a picture of him. It was sweet that you’d been trying to prepare yourself to take him and you were still a shaking, needy mess.

Tears well in your eyes as he thumbs at your swollen little clit, he feels your pussy clench around him, already so fucking keyed up. He should be good. He should make love to you, nice and slow, like a good boy. He’s starting to think he’s not a good boy, not at all. “Just lay there and take it, yeah? Just look nice and pretty for the camera.”

You cry out when he pulls back only to drive back in, hard and deep. His pace is relentless as he fucks into your cunt— warm and wet and tight and fucking perfect. He honestly shouldn’t have waited, he should’ve fucked you the first night you offered yourself up to him— sweet and needy and clinging off his shoulder like you were his girlfriend.

“A-Art, fuck—“ You cry out, fisting your pretty hands into the frilly duvet, as he bullies himself into you. “Oh, god, fuck, A-Art, it’s too much— I-I can’t—“ A strangled moan seems to rip itself from your throat as your head falls back against the pillows.

He grins. “Yeah? Don’t tell me, honey, tell the camera.”

You whine, turning your head away as embarrassment rips through you. It’s mean, keeping it trained on you while you’re so fucking vulnerable. He grabs your chin, holds it in place as he fucks into you, deeper, rougher. It punches out gasps from your pretty open mouth— Ah! Ah! Ah! Over and over and over.

He pops your cheek, not too hard, but enough to draw your attention back from him and away from your dizzying thoughts. “Tell the camera how good it feels to have my big cock in that little pussy of yours, yeah?

“It feels— ngh— I love it,” you have pretty fat tears slipping down your cheeks as he drills into you. “You’re so big, I— God, fuck— I feel you in my stomach. Here—“ You grab his hand, move it to press against the bottom of your stomach. He can’t feel anything, not except warm skin beneath his, but he groans at your words, at the implication that he’s so deep he’s in your fucking guts.

He has to bite his tongue so hard he tastes blood. He knows he’s going to cum, knows that he’s not going to last or show off epic, manly stamina and impress you. Not that you give a shit, but he wants to set a standard for whatever fucking loser you fuck next. He’d have next time, and as many other times as he wanted. You’d keep coming back for it, for him.

He struggles to manhandle you the way he needs while holding onto the camera. He tosses it into the sheets so he can press your knees up to your chest. “Hold them— yeah, that’s it, fuck— feels good.” You’re so obedient, holding your legs up for him so he can get deeper. Your eyes roll back, flutter shut. He fumbles to grab the camera, to immortalize you like this.

Your cunt squeezes around him, makes his rhythm falter as he struggles to fend off his orgasm. God, he just wants to bury himself deep and rut into you, to cum deep and hard, leave you dripping with him. It’s about him… but it’s about you too. He’d be good, he’d make you cum.

“Tell me how bad you need to cum. Fucking beg me for it,” He groans, rubbing at your clit with a calloused thumb.

You whine, squeezing around his cock as he draws you closer and closer. “Need it, Art. It feels so good— you’re so fucking perfect, feel so perfect inside of me. Wanna cum for you, around your cock, wanna show you how good you feel. Please, please, god, I want it, I want to feel it, Art. Want you to cum inside of me, need it so bad— I fucking dream about it, about you. You’re so much better, you’re everything I want, Art, fucking claim me. I want you to.”

Art wanted to pull out. He did. He was going to glaze your pussy with his cum, get it on video, swipe his fingers through it and make you taste it. But Jesus Christ, you fucking ruined that idea. He cums suddenly, practically collapses on top of you as he fucks into your cunt, spilling himself deep inside of you. And like the perfect fucking toy you are, you cum too, milking him for all he’s worth, walls clenching down around his cock as he lazily ruts into you.

He pants, stays buried inside of you as he tries to catch his breath. He’d never cum inside someone before— he was too afraid of knocking someone up. He’d always had the self control to pull out, but he lost himself in fucking you, in the tight grip of your pussy around him. Christ, that was bad.

When he pulls out, a thick gush of his cum follows, pearly white, dripping down your ass and to the bed. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them, you’ve tugged a blanket over yourself shyly. Looking so demure, so sweet, batting your lashes up at him expectantly.

The camera lays dropped and forgotten on the bed, he goes and presses the stop button on the camera and you grab at his arm. “Do you want to stay the night?” You ask with a shy bite of your lip. “I told Izzy to fuck off, so she’s with her girlfriend. We’ve got the dorm for the night, so you can stay.”

Art makes a face akin to annoyance as he redresses, tugging on his boxers and sweats. His shirt is somewhere… he can’t focus. “I’m not your boyfriend.”

Your eyes widen, you swallow as heat floods your cheeks. “Yeah, I mean, I know,” you stammer. “I just thought…”

His jaw ticks. “Don’t do that, then. This is just about fucking.

Art watches the sad little nod, the tiniest twitch of your nose as you fight the rush of tears to your eyes. “I know that, Art,” you say sadly, and you’re trembling again. “I just wish you’d stay for a bit. I’m… I feel a lot right now. I’ve never… I’ve never felt this before I just want—“

“What do you want? A hug, a kiss?” He watches you sniffle sadly, nod and mutter a watery, yeah. He sighs, stops searching for his shirt, and pulls you against his chest. You feel so warm, so vulnerable as you shake and cry hot tears against his chest. He frowns, pulls back, and presses his lips to yours, quick and chaste. “I’m not doing this again if you keep acting like this.”

You sniffle and nod. “Okay, I know, I won’t do it again.” He kisses the crown of your head. Grabs a random shirt from the top of your laundry basket, grabs the camera, and heads for the door. You watch him leave with a pouty, wobbly little frown and get up to redress. You find his Stanford Tennis shirt partly beneath your bed and pull it on. It’s big, fits you like a hug, smells so boyish and warm. You lay back down on the bed he just fucked you on and breathe deep, let his smell flood your senses. It feels a little like being wanted.

AURRRRR this was so much longer than I thot <3

Anyways. Love pat’s sister au, feel free to send me any asks you want about these messy bitches <3

🐞 anon i love u

[pitchsidestories]

Jealousy II Patri Guijarro x León!Reader

masterlist I moodboard I word count: 2985

a/n: Hi, we hope it's not too confusing to read, the oneshot is a bit darker and more dramatic than our usual fanfics. The inspiration for the oneshot was this request here.

Carefully you applied the glamorous eye makeup you had in mind to your eye lids; you were getting ready for your older sister’s birthday party. Looking in the mirror you remembered a quote from a book you read for your English class in school beautiful little fool. According to Daisy in The Great Gatsby, it was the best thing a girl could be in this world.

You didn’t want to be a beautiful fool and didn’t yearn to be perceived as one. Another glance at your reflection and you realized you were done. Time to go to the party.

“Mapi, feliz cumpleanos, hermana!”, you greeted her grinning. Their home was almost a second home to you, you felt more at ease here than in your own appartement. You noticed Bagheera at his usual hiding space behind the window curtains, but for you he came up to get a few cuddles, before returning to it.

“Thanks, glad you could make it.”, she replied smiling, giving you a hug at the same time, pressing a grateful kiss to your cheek.

“Yes, I mean you’re getting old now, so..” ,you teased her, the grin on your face deepened.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get old soon enough, too.”, the defender promised you, laughing.

“Ugh, don’t remind me, Maria.”, you groaned playfully.

“Is that a gey hair?!”, she gasped dramatically while holding up a string of your hair to the light of the lamp.

“Girls.”, Ingrid shook amused her head. She was used to your lively banter now.

“Sorry. Is Patri here?”, you asked her curiously.

“Of course, she’s somewhere around.”, your sister waved it off.

“You can’t miss her.”, the Norwegian added winking.

“Nope, definitely nod.”, Mapi smirked.

To watch the couple, harmonize so well as they did was always a little heart wrenching to you. There was a deep fear inside you that you would never be able to find a love like they had. On the other hand, you were incredibly happy for your older sister.

“I’ve not seen her in ages, I need to say hi, I’ll come back to you soon.”, you told them excitedly.

“Sure.”, the defender answered doubtfully.

“We won’t see er again until the morning, right?”, Ingrid asked.

“Probably not.”, her girlfriend responded in an honest tone.

The truth was you were undoubtedly, terribly, madly in love with one of your siblings’ closest friends. So, you couldn’t wait to see her again. She was the guest at this party you were the most thrilled to meet again.

“Oh, hi, gorgeous.”, a flirty tone of the stranger held you back.  

“Hi, nice to meet you.”, you muttered, while your eyes searched around the living room for the face you yearned to find.

 “Very pleased to meet you. You must be Mapis sister.”, the woman purred. Her voice irritated you, she almost sounded like Bagheera.

“I’m, from where do you know my sister?”, you questioned her, only half-interested.

“Oh, we’re friends.”, she shrugged.

“I see.”, you nodded.

She held out her hand. “But we haven’t met yet.“

A bit too formal in your opinion but you still shook her hand. Why not play along for a while?

“That’s true.“, you replied politely.

“Can I get you a drink?“, the stranger asked, the corners of her mouth quirking upwards.

“Sure.“

To your surprise, she immediately grabbed your upper arm as she led you to the bar.

You frowned, the grip was too tight, too desperate.

And then you saw her.

“Y/n?“ Patri appeared right in front of you, eyeing you closely.

“Patri.“

You wished this girl would finally let go of your arm.

“Hi.“, Patri said blankly.

She was in suit pants and a half unbuttoned shirt.

“Hey, you look beautiful tonight.“, you complimented her and you meant it.

Before the midfielder could reply, the stranger tightened her grip around your arm. You sucked in a breath, this might leave a bruise.

“Let’s go outside for a bit.“, the girl said, her voice sickeningly sweet. It was less of a suggestion and more of an order.

“Okay.“, you agreed.

While the stranger led you outside to smoke, you struggled to tear your gaze away from Patri.

You watched her watching you leave until she disappeared in the crowd.

You failed to see how Claudia appeared on her teammates side, shaking her head: “You’re a fool, Patri.“

“What?“

“She so clearly has feelings for you.“, Alexia rolled her eyes, sipping on her drink.

“Y/n has asked her on dates multiple times in the past few years.“, Claudia agreed.

Patri released a sigh: “I can’t go out with her.“

“Why not?“, Lucy now joined the conversation.

“She’s Mapis sister!“, Patri pointed out the obvious.

Alexia shrugged: “Yes, and?“

Her younger teammate looked at her in exasperation: “Did you not hear what I just said?“

“Remember that Mapi dated Alba back in the day?“, Alexia countered unimpressed.

Now it was Patri who rolled her eyes: “Don’t start with this again. You can’t compare that.“

“Of course I can.“

Patri held up her hands, abandoning this conversation: “Whatever. I don’t want to talk about her.“

“Okay. Another drink?“, Claudia blinked innocently at her.

Relieved, Patri nodded: “Please!“

You had no idea when your sisters birthday party had ended. In fact, you did not remember most of the early morning hours.

When and how had you gotten home? What was that beautiful strangers name again? Where even was she?

All those questions popped into your head when a ringing on your door woke you up.

Groaning, you looked around your bedroom. You were alone, that was good.

You got up and quickly glanced into the mirror, realizing that you still wore last nights dress. There were mascara stains on your cheeks, a bruise on your arm and a slightly purpling hickey on your neck.

No time to take care of this mess, you decided. You walked through your apartment and opened the door.

Relief flooded through you as you found yourself opposite your sister and her girlfriend.

The ease you felt for a minute was erased in the next when you saw their concerned faces scanning your bruised and shambled body.

“Hi Y/n, you need to stop. We worry about you.”, Ingrid begun, sounding deeply worried.

“What do you mean?”, you asked confused while the two women made their way through your appartement.

“You know exactly what we mean.”, Mapi answered frustrated.

“A little party never killed nobody.”, you defended yourself half-heartedly. Meanwhile, your sister and her girlfriend were taking place on your sofa, you were sitting in between them.

“That’s not a little party.”, the defender disagreed.

“And y/n you deserve to be loved for you as a person not only because of your looks.”, Ingrid softly strokes your hair.

“I’m fine.”, you protested.

“Y/n it’s okay. Ingrid is right.”, Mapi told you compassionately.

“But.”, you started, your lips trembling. Memories from last night came back in pieces.

The way the beautiful stranger only used you like a piece of furniture to satisfy her needs and ignored your thoughts and feelings behind your pretty façade. How she couldn’t wait to leave once you showed your longing for more than just touches but a real connection. The scary thought you had when you heard the door slammed shut, maybe you deserved the way you were treated. Maybe love was something that only happened to people who were worthy of it.

“Come here.”, Ingrids warm voice brought you back to the present moment.

“My girls.”, your older sister whispered gratefully, while she and the Norwegian pulled you into a tight, long hug, hoping that one day you realized that you were worthy of love for the person you were even with your faults who sometimes led to self-destructive behaviour.

“Can you let me go now?”, you questioned smiling lightly.

“Yes, before this gets too cute.”, Mapi laughed, releasing you from her hug.

In the passing weeks you tried to break the pattern you were in, meeting more of your friends for a cup of coffee, going to less parties, seeing a psychologist. The changes you made didn’t get unrecognized by Patri who watched you doing this from a comfortable distance.

It was at the end of a media day, the league would start soon again,  that Patri announced: “I think I’ll accept y/n’s date offer, girls.”

“What?!”, Claudia yelled excitedly.

“Yes.”, she confirmed it seriously.

“But why now?”, the smaller woman raised an eyebrow at her.

 “Yeah, what changed?”, Keira wanted to know.

“I don’t know.”, Patri responded truthfully.

“That’s okay.”, Lucy reassured her.

The midfielder’s heartbeat faster as she spotted you hugging your sister. Her heart sank when  the brunette heard the next words coming from your mouth.

 “Girls, I’ve a date, I think she’s serious.”, you cheered.

“You do?”, Mapi glanced at you happily.

“Yes, we’ll go out tomorrow. Fancy dinner and when a bar.”, you went on delighted.

“Sounds great.”, she admitted.

“We’re happy for you, y/n.”, Ingrid beamed at you.

“Thanks.”, you couldn’t help, but to smile at the possibility to have found the one.

You ignored as the other half of the team got quiet, listening to your conversation.

“Fuck.“, Patri cursed under her breath.

“Wow… you have really horrible timing.“, Claudia sighed, her gaze still fixed on you.

Patri nodded slowly: “We do..“

“Maybe you shouldn’t tell her then.“, Keira suggested the obvious which Patri rewarded with an eye roll.

“I won’t.“

“Maybe it’s better that way.“, Claudia said.

“Yes, maybe.“, Patri sighed.

However, she was not ready to give up yet.

She and Mapi met on the next day for some coffee, unbeknownst to you.

“What do you mean the date went horrible?“, Patri asked, slowly stirring milk into her coffee to avoid seeming too eager about what Mapi just told her.

Mapi shrugged: “Oh, apparently she only talked about her ex during the date.“

“In front of her?“

Nodding, the defender took a sip from her cup: “Y/n got bored after thirty minutes and left.“

“Understandable.“, Patri said quietly.

“It’s sad. I had hoped she would have finally found someone for a serious relationship.“, Mapi continued.

The midfielder could read the genuine worry in her teammates face.

She decided to lay it all bare.

“I was so close to accepting her offer but then this new girl came…“

Mapi choked on her coffee.

“Wait, what?“, she asked between two coughs.

Patris gazed was trained on the small wooden table between the two football players: “Yes, I know…“

“Why?“, was the defenders only question.

“I didn’t want to give in because you’re her sister and we are friends…“, she admitted.

Mapis eyes softened as she studied the younger player: “Patri… if you love her, go out with her.“

Patri looked up in surprise: “That would be okay for you?“

“Of course. If you really love her.“

“I do…“

“Then ask her out. She deserves someone who doesn’t just see her looks.“

“She’s not perfect but no one is…“, Patri said more to herself than to her teammate.

“Patri.“

“Yeah?“

“That’s not what a person wants to hear after she told you that you could be the one for her sister.“, Mapi laughed.

Blushing, the midfielder grinned innocently: “Sorry.“

“You still have my blessing.“, the defender chuckled.

“Thanks.“

You walked through Barcelona, Alexia next to you. You had not felt like talking to your sister about the date but you knew you could trust Alexia with the details. And she was more than willing to listen.

You were in the middle of explaining of what you did after you left the restaurant when a familiar face appeared in front of you.

You stopped yourself mid-sentence: “Patri? Hi…“

“Hey, do you have a second?“

You stalled. She was out of breath, had seemingly been looking for you.

You looked at Alexia, then back at Patri: “I do…“

“Good.”, she sighed relieved.

“So?”, you rose an eyebrow expectantly.

“Would you go out on a date with me y/n?”, the Mallorquin woman asked, licking her lips nervously.

“Wait, are you serious?”, you gasped. Almost couldn’t believe that this question came from her mouth.

“I was never more serious.”, you could see the determination in the midfielder’s pretty brown eyes.

“I’m asking because whenever I asked you.. you said no.”, you tried to put the hesitation you felt into words.

“I thought Mapi wouldn’t approve of this. And Mapi means a lot to me as a friend.”, Patri explained.

“But she did?”

Something like hope flattered inside your chest. Was this just a dream, you hoped it wasn’t and if it was it hopefully would never end. This being realer and better when whatever you’ve imagined in so many sleepless nights when sleep couldn’t find you and the yearning for her overcame you.

 “Mapi did.”, the friend of your older sister confirmed earnestly.

“I really liked you for a long time.”, you confessed.

“I know but I was scared. And I wasn’t sure if you meant it because you’re always with someone else.”, the brunette admitted.

“Yes, I guess I’m not good at this kind of stuff.”, you guiltily bit your lip.

“Maybe we can figure it out together.”, she suggested carefully.

“Okay, but I’m warning you I’m not easy.”, you told her.

“I never cared for easy anyway.”, Patri reassured you.

“So, we give it a try?”, you glanced at her, waiting eagerly for her reply.

“If you’re willing to. Because you haven’t answered if you want to go on a date or not.”, she remarked.

“I want to go on a date with you.”, you smiled at her, meaning every word you said.

“Okay, but first we need to finish gossiping y/n.”, Alexia threw in grinning. The Barcelona captain has been watching everything from a safe distance until now.

“Ugh, Ale.”, Patri groaned.

“No, I’m just joking go ahead.”, she laughed.

“Can I take you on a date right now?”, the younger midfielder laid her eyes on you, it was clear from the look of her face that she couldn’t wait any longer.

“Yes, you can!”, Alexia answered for you winking.

“I didn’t ask you.”, Patri shook her head amused.

“I think it’s time for us to go.”, you decided smirking.

“Yes, please.”, she nodded happily.

“Bye, Ale.”, you waved at the older woman.

“Enjoy.”, the blonde responded cheerfully.

While you made your way through the buzzing city, the sun was about to set, the night never seemed more promising to you, as you walked hand in hand with the woman you had feelings for since forever. You always liked the city your sister chose to play for, but this evening you fell in love with it. The beauty of the architecture and everything else was almost too overwhelming. Before the mass of people made you feel lonely but now you were a part of it.

“Well, were do you want to go y/n?”, Patri whispered into your ears as you passed the neighbourhood of Gracia.

“You pick. You asked me out.”, you mouthed back.

“Good, I already know a place.”

And that’s where your story begun, the first date ended with a kiss on your doorstep, but you came back for another, because it left you even hungrier. But for the first time in forever you felt safe, knowing that you’d see her again and Patri wouldn’t walk away.

The summer break came. For most of the players it was only a short period of time between the end of the season and the next games with their national team.

You and your girlfriend wanted to make the most out of your free days, enjoying the pure bliss of having no responsibilities.

That was how you found yourself on yacht with a group of people, most of which you did not know. But they seemed to know your sister which meant that some stranger always came up to you, wanting to talk when all you wanted to do was lay in the sun and sip on some cocktails.

Even the woman in charge of preparing the drinks wanted to engage you in a conversation but your replies remained monosyllabic. Once she was done pouring, you flashed her a smile and disappeared with a cup in each hand.

Patri had been watching from where she was tanning herself in the afternoon sun. As you approached her, she moved her sunglasses to the top of her head: “Y/n?“

“Yes?“, you asked, sitting down next to her.

“What are you doing?“

You shrugged, handing her one of the cups: “Just got us some drinks.“

“Why was the barkeeper staring at your tits?“

You suddenly felt uncomfortable in your bikini top and jeans cut-offs. “She has? I didn’t even notice, Patri. Everyone stares at me… always.“

You relaxed a little when Patri looked you up and down with a smirk: “I mean I get that they look at you. You’re gorgeous.“

“Can’t help it.“, you assured her again.

“But the flirting… not a big fan.“

You took a sip from your drink: “Relax, I’m yours.“

Your girlfriends eyes sparkled, challenging you: “Prove it.“

You put your drink down, pushed your girlfriend back on her towel to straddle her and kissed her passionately.

“Again?“, Patri asked, innocently blinking up to you.

“Maybe with less people to see?“, you suggested. You had the sudden urge to get away from everyone, to do more than just kiss her. You only wanted to be Patris.

You both got up. Patri took your hand in hers, leading you towards the inside of the boat.

She winked at you: “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure everyone knows that you belong to me. I’ll leave my handprints all over you.“

You smiled quietly about how right this felt. She would never get mad or freak out. If she was jealous, she made sure that everyone knew that you were her girlfriend.

You always knew that Patri could handle it.

[afterglowkatie]

pair of pests: drunk ˏˋ°•*⁀ kyra x catley!reader, short fic/blurb

kyra cooney-cross x reader | 1k | based off of this ask

‘Hey Ky, baby I found you,’ You’d been looking around for Kyra since she’d been taking a bit to get your drinks from the bar. You knew Kyra had the tendency to get distracted even more when she’s been drinking. With the amount she’s had tonight you’d tried to keep more of an eye on her. Finding her still at the bar waiting for your drinks, you wrapped your arm around Kyra’s waist, leaning into her side.

You didn’t expect to suddenly stop feeling Kyra’s warmth against you, being caught off guard when she moved out of your embrace, ‘Don’t touch me,’ Kyra turned away from you fully missing the confusion and slight hurt spread across your face. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong or to upset her, ‘Kyra?’ You put your hand on her shoulder trying to get her attention again.

‘I’m sorry, I have a girlfriend,’ Kyra’s voice was slightly slurred and the way she could barely remove your hand from her shoulder, it all clicked for you. You knew she’d been drinking more than usual but you’d never experienced anything like this from her. It eased your worries knowing that you hadn’t upset Kyra, she was just drunk enough that she hadn’t fully recognised that you were the one next to her and that you were the one touching her.

Laughing to yourself, you followed your girlfriend back to the others you’d gone out with. Noticing the way Kyra gave you a bit of a weird look when you’d walked with her back to the table. Though you decided to sit at the other end, sitting next to Katie you whispered to her about the interaction with Kyra at the bar. The two of you laughing together over it.

‘Had a bit too much to drink there Kyra,’ Katie laughed while lightly patting Kyra on the back before resting her hand on Kyra’s shoulder. After what you told Katie she was testing to see her reaction.

‘Ugh stop,’ Kyra groaned attempting to move Katie’s hand off of her shoulder, instead barely being able to make enough contact to push her hand off, ‘I have a girlfriend,’ Kyra emphasised each word, wanting it to be known to Katie and the others around, ‘I don’t know where she is. Just disappeared,’ Kyra leaned her head down against the table, mumbling incoherently. All she really wanted was you. Even in the state she was now, you were still the first thought on her mind. 

It was definitely amusing to witness, but others did think it was quite sweet. At least Steph didn’t have to worry about Kyra ever hurting or breaking her sister's heart, ‘I think someone might be tryna steal your girl,’ Katie was teasing, knowing exactly how to provoke Kyra. You were just having a conversation with Caitlin at the other end, since both your girlfriends had left you by yourselves. 

Katie laughed loudly at how fast Kyra had shot her head up, while Kyra groaned and held her head trying to get the room to stop spinning enough to follow where Katie was pointing. Glaring towards Caitlin before stumbling her way over to where you were.

Before you’d felt, seen or heard Kyra, you saw Caitlin’s eyes drift looking past you with amusement, ‘Baby, I found you,’ Kyra fell into your lap, comments being thrown around how amusing it was to see Kyra in your lap, barely being able to be seen under Kyra, ‘I missed you,’

‘Ky, love, I was with you before,’ You’d wrapped your arms around her waist, keeping her from falling off your lap. Instead of properly processing what you’d said to her, Kyra just smiled widely at you.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ Kyra kept looking at you with adoration, her fingers grazing the side of your face gently, tucking your hair behind your ear. You’re glad the lighting in this place was quite dull and that Kyra was covering most of you away from anyone, so no one could notice you becoming slightly flustered at her words.

‘Isn’t my beautiful girl just the prettiest,’ Kyra had turned slightly in your lap, talking to literally anyone that was in the general direction she was looking in. Your head barely made it over Kyra’s shoulder to see who was still around.

‘I think that’s subjective…,’ You’d heard Katie start before being nudged by Caitlin to stop her from purposely annoying Kyra.

‘And you’re all mine,’ Kyra wrapped her arms around you tightly

‘All yours baby,’ That’s how the rest of the night went. Kyra had to be touching some part of you at all times or else she’d be all pouty until you’d wrap your arms back around her. 

‘Let’s get you home,’ Kyra was fully leaning her body into yours, she’d been trying to keep her head up until she just let it fall against your shoulder. The night was well and truly over for Kyra and you knew it was for the best to get you both back to either place while Kyra could somewhat still hold herself up.

‘Your place or mine,’ Kyra mumbled, slightly smirking at you with her hand landing back against your thigh.

You rolled your eyes, lightly pushing her hand away, ‘I mean get you to bed,’ Your choice of wording wasn’t the best, you should’ve known better, especially when it came to Kyra.

‘Oh,’ Leaning her head to the side, Kyra’s smirk grew. You bit your lip trying to keep your composure, feeling Kyra leave light kisses against your neck right below your ear. The other girls around you definitely noticed, and you knew that you’d both be teased for this later on in the week at training.

‘Good luck,’ You heard Katie yell after you’d finally gotten Kyra up and heading towards the exit. Kyra leaning into you while mumbling about anything and everything that came to her mind, all you could do was laugh.

‘You’re lucky you’re cute,’ You had to basically shove Kyra into the back of the uber, quickly following to make sure she didn’t try to get back out, ‘And that I love you,’

Kyra looked up at you, her head already on your shoulder and body pressed against your side. Eyes drooping until they stayed closed mumbling out a little, ‘I love you more,’

[adrienneleclerc]

Rumors

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: There have been rumors going around that Y/N is cheating on Charles 🫢

Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors, ANGST ending with fluff, very bad photoshop (I was working with what I had)

A/N: this is my first time writing angst so let’s see how I do.

Charles Leclerc DNF’d in the Canadian Grand Prix, he was so mad, he thought he could at least get some points, his engine was shit, the only thing he wanted to do was go home to his girlfriend. He decided to call her up on FaceTime. She answered after the second ring.

“Hey muñeco, what happened? I thought today was the GP, should you be racing?” Y/N asked, she was in line at the airport, getting ready to fly to Monaco.

“I’m out of the race, Mon ange.” Charles explained.

“Ay mi amor, i am so sorry to hear that. Listen, I’m at the airport right now, I’m going to Monaco, I’ll be in your apartment before you come back, okay? Then we can spend as much time together as you want.” Y/N said, knowing Charles will probably be very clingy after a terrible race.

“I’d like that. Have a safe flight, Mon coeur.” Charles said.

“Bye, mi vida.” Y/N said, sending him a kiss and Charles does the same before hanging up.

He was standing with the Ferrari team, looking at the monitors and viewing the rest of the race until Carlos also DNF’d. That just left him and Carlos talking until they were called for an interview when the race finished.

“Ugh, I can’t wait to go home.” Charles said, entering the driver’s room with Carlos. “When is our flight?”

“I don’t know, cabrón. Probably later tonight, I just want to get the fuck out of Montreal.” Carlos said.

“Same.” Charles groaned.

“Have you talked to Y/N?” Carlos asked, looking at his phone.

“Yeah, she’s getting on a flight to Monaco.” Charles said. “Why do you ask?”

“Because this is trending on Instagram.” Carlos said, showing Charles the Instagram post he found.

132,926 likes

f1WAGupdates the singer and girlfriend of Charles Leclerc, Y/N L/N, has been seen with the Maxton Hall actor, Damian Hardung, at a restaurant in Manhattan. Is this why Y/N wasn’t seen at the Canadian GP? She’s too busy hooking up with Damian behind Charles’s back? Looks like she’s not as supportive as she says she is.

Carlos pulled the phone away from Charles’s face

“Let me see the comments, Carlos.” Charles demanded.

“No way, it will just drive you crazy.” Carlos said, hiding his phone.

“Fine, I’ll go to Instagram myself. Who the fuck is Damian Hardung?” Charles asked, he was pulling his phone out but Carlos took it from him and shoved it in his pants. Charles looked at him and then at Carlos’s pants. “Don’t make me search for it, Carlos.”

“I am helping you! If you read those comments, you are going to be antsy when we’re on the plane.” Carlos said and Charles rolled his eyes and left the driver’s room, making his way to Max and Lando who were talking, with Carlos following quickly behind him. “Don’t give him your phone!” Carlos yelled.

“Max, Lando, Can you check Instagram for me?” Charles asked.

“Don’t you have your own phone?” Lando asked.

“Carlos has it.” Charles said and that’s when Carlos appeared behind him. Charles had his arms spread out as if he was block Carlos from the other two drivers. “Just go to Instagram.” Charles said sharply.

“Don’t go to Instagram!” Carlos exclaimed.

“Okay, I’m on Instagram, what else?” Max asked,

“Is there a gossip post about Y/N L/N and Damian Hardung?” Charles asked.

“Are you stalking your girlfriend?” Lando asked.

“Don’t show him anything!” Carlos exclaimed, getting away from Charles and heading over to Lando.

“I found it! Charles, are you sure you want to see this?” Max asked.

“Just read me the comments.” Charles demanded.

“Don’t!” Carlos exclaimed.

“Okay… ‘i never trusted Y/N, she seemed very fake.’ Dude, I don’t know…” Max started but Charles cut him off.

“Give me that.” Charles said and he took Max’s phone to read the other comments. ‘I bet she has been cheating on him for months’ one said, ‘all those times when she wasn’t at a GP, I bet she was with him’ said another, but there was one comment that hurt him the most ‘Charles is so blind, it was clear that she never really loved him, she doesn’t even post about him’ “FUCK!” Charles screamed. He gave Max his phone back, shoving him a little in the process. “I need to go to Monaco now.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Carlos asked.

“Catch a rode with Max and Lando!” Charles yelled as we walked away, trying to find Fred.

“Why did you tell him?” Carlos asked the Dutch driver, hitting his arm in the process.

“How was I supposed to know I wasn’t supposed to?” Max asked, playing dumb.

“I was literally shouting ‘Don’t tell him anything’ cabrón!” Carlos exclaimed.

“You know how max is, Carlos, he’ll do anything for Charles.” Lando teased Max, earning himself a slap on the arm.

Charles found Fred after asking a few Ferrari workers. “Fred, I need to go to Monaco now,”

“Is there an emergency, Charles?” Fred asked, very concerned with Charles’s state.

“Yes.” Charles said.

“Okay, I can have the plane ready in an hour, get Carlos, go to your hotel rooms and pack your things.” Fred said, already making plans with the pilot.

“Perfect, thank you!” Charles thanked him and walked back to Carlos, Max, and Lando, finding them arguing. “Carlos, let’s go, we need to pack.”

Y/N’s flight was 11 hours long and Charles’s flight is 8 hours so Charles made it to the apartment first. He unpacked his luggage and put away his clothes. He then made himself something to eat while he viewed that stupid Instagram post, reading the comments. It wasn’t until he heard Y/N’s keys that he realized he spent over an hour reading the comments. Y/N came in with her luggage and walked to the couch where Charles sat.

“Muñeco, what are you doing here, I thought your flight was tomorrow?” Y/N asked, getting closer to him to kiss his lips but he turned his head. Y/N leaned back a little. “What’s wrong, muñeco?”

“Nothing at all. I just have a question is all.” Charles stated. Y/N put her suitcases in Charles’s bedroom before she sat down on the matching loveseat.

“Sure Amor, ask away.” Y/N said.

“What were you doing in New York?” Charles asked.

“Oh well I visited my parents, they’re doing well, they asked when you were going to visit so maybe we could visit before going to Spain. I was recording my new album with Sony Records, I think it’s going to go do really well, but who knows.” Y/N said.

“And what else happened when you were in New York?” Charles asked, wanting her to tell him herself.

“Mmm, nothing really important, I met with some people from Amazon.” Y/N said. Charles had a straight face and pursed his lips in annoyance. “I’m sensing that’s not what you wanted to hear.”

“Of course that’s not what I wanted to hear!” Charles raised his voices getting off the couch and walked into the kitchen with Y/N walking behind him. “I want to know why the fuck You were out with this guy.” Charles said, turning around and showing Y/N the Instagram post. “Who the fuck is Damian Hardung?”

“Damian is an actor from Maxton Hall, you know that Amazon show that I’ve been obsessed with?” Y/N asked him while she got a soda from the fridge, charles nodded his head for her to continue. “Anyway, I met up with him and some people from Amazon because they were considering him and I as leads for their new movie.” Opening the soda bottle to take a sip.

“But you don’t act.” Charles said. Y/N rolled her eyes, closed the bottle, and put it on the counter,

“But I sent in an audition tape for Culpa Tuya and i guess they liked it and wanted me as a lead.” Y/N said.

“Really, that’s all that was?” Charles asked.

“Yeah, it’s just a business dinner.” Y/N said.

“Then why is he looking at you like that? Why are you leaning against him like that?” Charles asked exasperated.

“Chemistry test, is that what you wanna hear? Why are you acting like this?” Y/N asked.

“Why am I acting like this? Let’s see, my car power unit was shit, it was my worst race of the season because I DNF’d, my top 4 streak is over, and to top it all off, my girlfriend was seen with another guy and everyone is talking about me!” Charles yelled and Y/N widened her eyes, she has never been yelled at before, her parents made sure to never fight in front of her or her siblings when she was growing up so the fact that he’s not yelling in front of her but actually yelling AT her.

“Why are you taking your anger out on me?” Y/N asked with tears in her me.

“Where are you when you’re not with me for the Grand Prix?” Charles asked. Y/N wiped her eyes.

“Charles, You’re being ridiculous.” Y/N said, trying to go to the living room but Charles blocked her. “Charles, no estoy jugando.”

“I’m not playing either, where are you?” Charles asked.

“I have a career outside of being your girlfriend you know! I’m not going to follow you around like a fucking puppy.” Y/N stated. “You understand that, right? I have interviews, photo shoots, live performances, I can’t go to every race. It never bothered you before, why is it bothering you now?”

“Why do you never post me on Instagram?” Charles asked.

“You’re insane.” Y/N stated.

“And you’re avoiding the question.” Charles said,

“What do you wanna do, Charles? You wanna track me? You wanna know my every move? You want me to post us on my Instagram and TikTok even when you said you didn’t want to risk me getting sent hate so we decided that I wouldn’t post anything?” Y/N asked rhetorically. “You’re acting as if I’d cheat on you.” Y/N jokingly said but when she saw Charles face. “No fucking way, you actually think I would cheat on you? Are you that insecure? Why the hell would you think that?”

“I’ve been reading the comments on the instagram post.” Charles said and Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Why would you believe the comments? Let me tell you this one time and one time only, I am your girlfriend, okay? If you come across a freaking piece of chisme like that, TALK TO ME, don’t come accusing me of cheating on you when I literally have your logo as a tramp stamp…” Y/N said and Charles smirked at the mention of the tramp stamp, his favorite tattoo of hers. “Focus, you horndog. I love you, and only you. If I have to move in with you to prove that, I will. Wait, I got a better idea, come here.” Y/N said, pulling Charles in front of a mirror so she could take selfie of them.

Liked by charlesleclerc and 1,240,295 others

yourusername Charles and I have been dating for a year, he is the one I love. Though I love Damian Hardung in Maxton Hall, which is like my favorite show ever, I am in a very loving relationship. Damian is just a friend, he might be my future costar if I’m lucky. Why I’m not at races is no one’s business, I was present during Imola and Monaco, I am always home to celebrate with Charles and I love him dearly.

“There, it’s posted. Now you can stop worrying about us.” Y/N said.

“I’m sorry about everything, Mon ange.” Charles said.

“It’s fine muñeco. But yell at me again and I will shave your head in your sleep.” Y/N said with a serious look on her face.

“You wouldn’t shave my head, you love my hair, what are you going to tug on when I’m going down on you?” Charles asked with a smirk on his face and leaning into kiss her and Y/N just laughs.

“You really are a horndog aren’t you.” Y/N said but kissed him anyway. “But seriously, don’t yell at me again, I will stab you in your sleep.”

“Can you please stop threatening me, Mon ange?” Charles asked and Y/N just giggled and nodded. “Are you coming to Barcelona with me?” Charles asked.

“Of course I am! Are we going to New York next weekend?” Y/N asked.

“I’m sure I can arrange that, if not we can go after Spain.” Charles said.

“That sounds perfect. I will be posting more photos of us from now on, okay? So what did we learn today, mi muñequito celoso?”

“That I should talk to you before believing a gossip post about you.” Charles said.

“Good boy. Now…how do you want to take out your frustrations on yesterday’s Grand Prix?” Y/N asked, looking at him with siren eyes.

“Bedroom.” Charles said before he kisses Y/N, lifting her, making Y/N wrap her legs around his waist, and he carried her to his bedroom, shutting the door with his foot.

The End

Hope y’all liked it, I don’t really write angst, but I hope this turned out well 🤗

[jenosbigtoe]

NEED NEED NEED another one shot with jeno and dumb sluts 🥹🥹

mdni. nsfw 18+ (read part 1)

pairing: lee jeno x reader x na jaemin

warnings: everyone here is still a freak, recording of sexual activities, so much sex, nomin are kinda sleazy and reader is kinda slutty so match made in heaven

jeno has your contact name saved as “slut❤️” and jaemin has it under “SLUT🙇‍♂️”, without even knowing what the other already put. when they saw what the other had your contact saved as, they gave each other a high five.

jeno and jaemin are so competitive and possessive over you. jeno is the only one allowed to call you his baby, and if jaemin calls you baby it turns into (another) big argument. and jaemin is the only one allowed to call you princess, or else it will, again, lead to another argument. however, they have an unspoken agreement to both call you babygirl because you’re their babygirl duh.

they make it competition to see who can make plans with you first before the other one can.

jeno: baby come over tonight.

you: sry jen

you: jaem invited me over first

jeno was punching the air after that.

or jaemin would snap you a pic of his veiny hands grabbing his very obviously hard dick through his sweatpants with the captioned “thinking about you princess. come over”

you snapped back a picture of a fake pout saying “i’m at jen’s rn”. jaemin could see a shirtless jeno hugging your back behind you in that pic, causing him to see red.

they try to one up each other on absolutely everything. asking you questions like “okay who do you see more though?” and “who gives the best head?” and “whose dick game is stronger?” you never give them an answer, obviously, because you think it’s fun when they try to go even harder than the other to beat each other in this made up competition.

whenever you hook up with either of them, they will snap pics and take videos to gloat to the other. like jaemin will send jeno a pic of your naked bodies tangled up together after a good fucking captioned “😁” or jeno will send jaemin an uncaptioned video of you deepthroating his cock.

when jeno and jaemin hang out one on one, their new favorite thing to do together (besides you duh) is compare the suggestive snaps you send them or the sex tapes you made with each of them.

“jaemin, look at this lingeries pic i got last night ooh aren’t you so jealous?”

“jeno, hate to break it to you dude but she literally sent you that pic right before i ripped that off her and fucked her stupid.”

then he’d show jeno the video he got of you letting him tittyfuck, his cock rubbing so deliciously between your plump tits as you licked and sucked on the tip.

“fuck you jaem, lemme show you the time she let me take her ass then.”

all this competitiveness works out in your favor of course. you know about everything they do, from sending pics and videos of your hookups to comparing them when they’re with each other. all you have to do is tell jeno “ugh jaemin had me in this position last night and i have never felt so good” before jeno will seriously have you twisted like a pretzel and fucked dumb with his cock until you’re a sobbing mindless mess. or you’ll tell jaemin “jeno hit so deep in me earlier i could feel him in my lungs” before jaemin will take you on the wall, the mattress, the counter, the washing machine, the bathtub, and MORE balls deep and slapping your clit every time.

to switch it up every so often, you’d invite both of them at the same time over to your place, conveniently neglecting to tell them that the other would also be coming over.

you’d be lying on your back, legs up in the air, as jaemin ate and fingered your drooling little cunt when jeno would walk in, tutting and snarling at the sight.

“well, looks like this greedy little slut did it again. invited us both over because she can’t go a day without getting stuffed by two cocks.” jeno rips his clothes off and crawls onto the bed, grabbing your face into his strong grip and pressing a crushing kiss on your lips.

jaemin wouldn’t even look up from eating your pussy like a starved man, he’d smirk into your cunt and continue licking and sucking on it.

they’d do a rock paper scissors to see who gets to fuck your pussy first (jaemin won this time).

“what a fucking slut, jeno,” jaemin would pant, rutting his hips fast and deep into yours as he took you on all fours.

you were too busy licking and sucking on jeno’s cock in the front. “yeah, our slut. only we get to see her like this. isn’t that right huh babygirl?” jeno stroked your cheek affectionately.

you loved being a slut for jeno and jaemin.