#this is why they'd work so well for a game

[audliminal]

It's just a game, right?

"I just don't see how sitting around is gonna do anything!" Dash argues, face to face with Sam.

"Well, if you have other ideas you're more than welcome to offer them, but we can't just take out the giw. They have more manpower than us, more equipment, and the new agents actually seem to be competent in fights! And we are a bunch of high school students!"

They are all, ostensibly in English Class right now, but even Mr. lancer has forgone the illusion of normal classwork. He assigns books and hands out reading assignments every week, but nobody really cares whether they get turned in or not. The city, after all, has a much bigger problem.

"I don't know! But sitting here-"

"He's not entirely wrong, the longer we wait the more likely they figure it out, just like we all did." As Valerie finishes speaking, the room temperature drops noticeably, and the kids all glance nervously over at Danny who's head hasn't moved from it's spot on his desk. He almost seems dead with how still he is. Beside him Tucker stares at his PDA, the only one who hasn't reacted to the temperature change.

"Should I even ask what you're messing with?" Sam asks, walking over while the others stare nervously at Danny.

"Actually, yeah." Tucker easily shifts so they can both see the webpage displayed on the handmade tech. "I got something through."

"I thought getting stuff through wasn't really the problem?"

"I mean, yeah, they're letting Everything Is Normal posts through, but this wasn't. That. I was, um, kind of fucking around with ciphers and shit? Not saying anything relevant, but just seeing whether they'd flag any old weird shit, you know? And um. I got a video out."

"Okay, but how does that help us?" Valerie asks.

"It helps because if they let a cipher through then means if I encode shit well enough, then it'll also get through."

"But if it's, like, that hard to figure out what it says, then won't it be useless on the outside?"

"The chances of it getting into the hands of someone who could crack it do seem, uh, improbable."

"Not if we stack the deck."

"Wes-"

"No, listen, I know you're all still mad at me, but like. If you can attract a community of codebreakers? Then eventually someone will crack the code on what you need them to!"

"If you have an idea then just fucking say it, Wes," Sam snaps.

"Make an ARG. We can even have like, the base level be completely United to anything real, just make up a story about, i dunno, space travel? And then bury the actual info beneath that. Eventually somebody will crack into the real stuff, and if it's popular enough by then, and the GIW tries to suppress it? That'll be even more suspicious-looking, and just make them dig harder."

"What the fuck is a ARG?" Dash asks, pulling his gaze away from their definitely-just-sleeping classmate.

"Augmented reality game. It's like an unfiction thing. Make a story but the story is interactive and people have to decode shit to figure out what's going on." Tucker glances over to Wes. "And actually not a bad idea. If we all work together, we could probably make something cool."

"You could treat it as a class-wide project." Mr. Lancer says, making everyone jump. "That way I can back you up if anyone starts asking questions."

"Make it about black holes," Danny says, finally pulling himself up from his desk. "We can base it in wormhole theory, and distract the GIW with all the theoretical science."

"What, so like we make videos that seem like they're being sent through a black hole?"

"Fuckin. Sure, why not? As if shit couldn't get any weirder around here."

"Star, please try to refrain from swearing in front of me. I know the situation is - difficult - but I am officially still your teacher."

"Sorry, Lancer."

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

i have a proposition to make to the fire emblem fandom in regards to ai bullshit: we makalov the face of the anti-ai movement depending on how different systems are set up, be it for those who write, those who draw, etc, there are likely ways to rig the system to overload the systems with specific things which is why i suggest we use makalov for this those who have played the tellius duology know he isnt exactly the greatest guy, and also know that mod goldmary seems to be the exception not the rule when it comes to how people view him as a character, so when people try to cheat by using stolen work feed to an ai to create some garbage about fire emblem? they can never escape that piece of shit no matter how hard they try, they'd be lucky if they even see marth no idea if it still applies but i know tumblr had it set up where each specific blog and side blog needed to go into settings to disable ai feeding, if that is still the case then it should be easy to just create a side blog just for the purposes of fucking with the systems when it comes to art just go nuts, don't have any specific things aside from putting so much makalov dna into the system that it thinks fire emblem lords have pink hair instead of blue, maybe purposefully fuck up the hands and other limbs and whatnot so they can never fully fix that issue meanwhile for writing, oh boy i got ideas, smut writers this is your time to shine! make the most nasty vile shit imaginable(while still being legal ofc just gross) and always include makalov in it, heck maybe mess the system up by ruining the lore on purpose and putting him in games he's not supposed to be in, want to have an ai write a fanfiction about awakening? too bad you lazy sack of shit you'll never escape this pink haired horse man no matter what timeline you try seeing as the purpose of these writings is to mess up any bot trying to create fanfiction this also means those who are horrible when it comes to writing can also join in! purposefully misspell and misuse words, throw proper grammar out of the window, and act like this is just how human language naturally works! also those who are good at writing can also purposefully not write good, though as a writer myself i know that is easier said then done at this point, it isn't meant to be posted to your main accounts but rather an extra expendable account just made for the purposes of ruining ai for fire emblem, or if we're lucky ai in general! tl;dr: it would be really fucking funny if this wretched bastard of a man named makalov became known for being the anti-ai symbol of the fandom

Terrible idea. There's already hundreds of thousands of fe images and fanfics in their database, a few pieces of makalov art and fics will not change much. Also making stuff specifically to ruin ai is just not a smart idea. Make something bc you enjoy it instead.

I know you mean well, but please do proper research before you suggest something like this :(

If you really wanna troll with makalov, then join the makasweep for cyl9 and vote for makalov!

[spencecreates]

I explained this to a friend the other day but. Yarrow and Roan...don't work as the view point characters. They know too much about their stories, they have little to nothing to learn. Roan has no drive to move forward and change anything in his life, there's very little to motivate him. And Yarrow... Yarrow is just too much to carry a narrative. That's why most of my writing with him also features Roan. He's unbalanced and I imagine reading from his point of view could get exhausting without the right person to play off of.

They need someone outside to really look at things and move around all of it. They're the main characters but the narrative isn't theirs.

[phoenixcatch7]

Okay but it's super interesting how

Din = Power = Ganondorf

Naryu = Wisdom = Zelda

Farore = Courage = Link.

Because Din, in the hylian creation myth, created the physical world. Naryu then created the laws - gravity, time, etc. And Farore finally created life - plants and people.

Din created the body, naryu the mind, Farore the soul.

And the triforce and its wielders so perfectly reflect that.

Ganon is physical power, he is big and intimidating and he breaks things. He is cunning and determined, but that's not what he focuses on. He is might makes right.

Zelda is wisdom and cleverness. She is stall tactics and information and team work. She is a powerful mage with a spine of steel, but that's not how she'll win. She is the pen being mightier than the sword.

Link is courage and persistence. He is the wild card sneaking behind enemy ranks, always moving, plunging into terrifying situations head first. He's a phenomenal fighter with a keen wit, but that's not what will get him through his challenges. He is bravery not being the absence of fear but the triumph over it.

They sit in perfect parallels to each other.

And ganon is reborn through his body - his resurrection is immortality. No matter how low he is cast, as long as he has a body he can claw his way back. He can cling to his power, build it ever higher.

Zelda is reborn through the magic of her bloodline. It's the accumulated knowledge handed down for generations, the unique power she must master, the skills she must develop to survive and get her kingdom out the other side intact. Even her name, the knowledge of herself, is handed down from all the way from the very first. Her ancestors knowledge of her future presence, her stability, is what gives her the edge.

Link is reborn in spirit. He is not bound by flesh or blood. Just like his wanderlust soul he can reappear in any time or place. His variation, his unpredictability, is exactly how he fights. It's what makes him so hard to pin down.

Ganons need to build strength means he can't chase after link. Links impulsiveness means zelda can outwit him. Zeldas stationary predictability means she's an easy target for ganon.

But the other direction?

Fire melts ice, ice redirects lightning, lightning burns fire.

And that's the very essence of the triforce.

[c0smiccom3t]

okay. hear me out. (ft. Dajo-Voo OFFICIAL redesign first look!)

[get-more-bald]

the thing about X6 is that he's essentially a slave given to the Sole Survivor by the Institute. and I think that the fandom's treatment of him would be different if the game addressed it or even just said it

[branmer]

thinking about the time i had an interview to study at glasgow school of art and the interviewers were so horrible i went home in tears and sobbingly told my mum that i hoped the place burnt down and then it did, twice, the first time during my graduating showcase

[bohemiandeer]

You know what hits me hard? When 5 to 6 year old children, all the way in Southeast Asia, knows about what's happening in Palestine right now. That children their age is getting bombed, that they're starving to death, that they're getting shot at, and sniped in the head. Because, just this past 2 or so months, I heard some of the little ones in the Kindergarten classes I'm TAing in as an Intern talk about it. Hell, one of the little boys downright said he didn't like Israel, because Israel is bad, because they do scary things. Another was questioning whether Palestine was bad too, because, "why else would they shooting at them?". A little girl in one of my classes doesn't want to finish her food at all, because she wants to save at least half her meat and rice for kids in Palestine, because she heard that, they don't have food. And that's just the ones I remember. Namely the inciting cases before their classmates slowly follow suit. The littles are fricking SCARED. We had to sit these kids down, and tell them that the topic is too mature for them at the moment, that they shouldn't even be concerned because they're KINDERGARTNERS, they're not even old enough to properly understand. The one teacher I was TAing for had to make a class announcement saying that. What gets me is, these are 5 to 6 year olds, the youngest I've worked with in this specific age group is 4. 5 years old on average, and they've already been exposed to the worst horrors genocide has to offer through the news and snippets of conversation among adults and hell, considering how many of them say they like to play games on Mama's phone, or their IPad, even from fricking social media. And the fact that, these literal babies, from all the way in Cambodia, has more empathy in their entire body and soul, than full grown fricking adults have in the nail of their pinky finger, gets me. FFS we as adults could LEARN from them I feel sometimes. I honestly don't know what to feel about it anymore. On the one hand, this is the next generation I'm working with. And if the next generation's default response to a tragedy such as Palestine, is what I've seen come up on occasion so far? Perhaps there's some bloody hope for this world after all. At least in this country. Especially since a majority of them already come from families who survived a genocide. These are the 3rd - 4th generation descendants of those who survived the Khmer Rouge. They've got grandparents at home, who no doubt are more than intimately familiar with what Palestine is going through right now. And it shows.

But on the other, it makes my heart sink because these are CHILDREN, these are LITTLE KIDS, they should be playing with their toys and watching cartoons and talking to their friends about everything from Spiderman to Speakerman to Kuromi and her friends, and be worried about whether or not they can go to playground that day, guranteed they're well behaved, or if Mama remembered to pack in their costume for swimming lessons that week. NOT JUST MY KIDS. But the little ones in Palestine too. They deserve better. They all deserve, so much better. Hell, it's come to the point that whenever I look at my kiddos right now, whether they'd be working in class, playing, doing something as mundane as eating lunch or getting ready for their nap. I think of the children their age in Palestine that didn't even get the chance to survive. I think of the ones whose memories from this age, is nothing but absolute horror and pain, rather than what has slowly become my normal, who never got to experience what my littles do on a daily basis right now.

Children shouldn't even be concerned about "War", about a Genocide. The last thing that should be on a 5 year old's mind, is pain, and suffering, and the worst horrors imaginable ever to be inflicted on a human being. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S INFLICTED, ON OTHER CHILDREN THEIR AGE. And for that alone, the world has failed them. Especially the kids in Palestine who didn't ask for any of this. They just wanted to carry on with life as kids do, the same way as my littles do on a daily basis no doubt, learning, playing, chatting with friends over their favourite cartoons and characters, worrying about whether they'd get to go to the playground or not that day.

I apologize for talking about this on this blog. I know my blog tends to be lighter in feel, a lot more unhinged and light hearted typically. I mean, I'm just a fricking nerd who likes to draw and write, and lurk about her favourite fandoms to consume and support what is shared among other nerds who also like to draw and write. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. About contemplating it, especially since I'll be back on a roll tomorrow, working with my kiddos again after not seeing them for 5 days straight because of Holidays. And, I just had to talk about it. This is something I felt I couldn't keep to myself this time, I don't think my soul'd be able to carry it. I had to talk about it.

FREE PALESTINE. Our children deserve better.

[plutolovesyou]

before you read ▪︎ loose continuation to THIS

ultra loser!ellie x teasing(slightly sadistic tbh)!reader. reads fine as a standalone!! no fr sex, but still nsfw!!! loads of teasing, ellie's shy and flustered (also gave her glasses and piercings muahahah AND HAPPY TRAIL MENTION YAYYY), reader's a little insistent (but it's ok), mentions of masturbation, discussion of sex, REALLY horny making out at the end lol, heavy petting, they almost do it, tiny abby cameo, buildup AS PER USUAL YALL KNOW THE DRILL, kinda cliffhanger ending (its on purpose HAHA), different layout bc i cheated n looked at the poll oops...NGL TS HAD ME SWEATINGGG WRITING IT LMFAO don't think i have ever written something more horny....ok enjoy! (scenario idea graciously donated by the wonderful @fleshunger I LOVE YOUR BRAIN SO MUCH POOKS) + 2.2k wc

apparently both of you missed the professor's class cancellation email on this fateful day… other students showed up too, but they left quickly after seeing it was empty. ellie stayed to catch up on some work, enjoying the silence and typing away on her laptop, which looked like one of those beefy gaming computers.

covered in stickers and the keys changing color, you thought it was interesting she'd lug that thing around campus with her, instead of opting for something light and sleek. and now that leaves you. you had no other plans for the day, and had already mentally prepared yourself for this class, totally unaware it was canceled.

you realized it wasn't a bad idea to copy ellie, and catch up on some of your own work. however you were more intrigued by her, to be totally honest with yourself.

watching her from a distance, she captivated you. she never seemed to notice your stares, too absorbed in her thoughts. you watched her type, efficiently and quickly, pausing only to push her glasses further up her nose with her slim fingers.

the truth is, she's hot. but no one was hearing you out on that, unfortunately. they'd say to you, “what a loser! i don't think i've ever heard her talk.”

you felt overwhelmed by the urge to strike up a real conversation with her—more that simple greetings or coursework questions— and it was the perfect opportunity to do just that. so you got up, sat yourself down in the empty spot right next to her, and put on the most charming grin you could muster up. she abruptly snapped out of her focus, almost flinching at your presence.

“hey! you're ellie, right? whatcha working on?” you got close to her to see, being met with a bunch of hieroglyphic-looking strings of symbols on the screen. woah, smarty-pants. “um, it's just…some project, i dunno. how d’you know my name?”

she finally looked at you, her eyes round, wider than the ufo saucer stickers on the back of her computer. they were so green, the hazel ring reminded you of a polished agate stone. the scattered freckles on her face were so pretty too, you'd never been close enough to her to really take notice. she nervously scanned your features, blotches of pink blush decorating the apples of her plump cheeks.

she was so cute, and noticing her evident shyness flipped a switch inside you, what if you messed with her a little?

you shrugged at her, “just seen you around. you're so mysterious.” you lilt, manipulating your tone to make it smoother on the ears, even containing hints of seduction if you dared.

she blushed a deeper raspberry shade and looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her rings. she was somehow getting more attractive by the second, your heart felt like it was about to burst.

“am i? never thought of it that way, you're funny.” she mumbles, her antsiness obvious. but you didn't wish to let up so soon, you were having a lot more fun flustering her than you'd ever care to admit, even wanting to see just how far you could push her.

“ooh, i love your rings. where did you get em?” “just…places. why are you asking me so many questions?” you sighed and rolled your eyes, “well, ellie. we both don't have anything else to do, gotta pass the time somehow. i wanna talk with you, is that okay?” she took a deep breath and nodded, visibly relaxing. she stretched out her arm to get rid of the tabs on her computer, close it, and put it in her bag, which is when you got a look at her forearm tattoo.

“also i'm obsessed with your tattoo, you have no idea how cool you are, how are girls not all over you?” you question, taking her wrist in your hands and examining the tattoo's intricate line work, tracing your fingertips over the pigment in her skin.

you heard her breathing change in tempo, quickening ever so slightly. but she didn't move her arm away, and let you continue. she took a second to respond. “um. thanks, i guess. i don't really know what you mean.” her voice cracked when she said the last part, igniting a flame inside you, one that you didn't know existed.

your mind wandered, you began wondering what she sounds like when she whimpers. was she really so starved of human contact you could mold her like putty, just with your fingers and tongue? you wanted to find out so badly, wanted to hear how she'd cry your name out if you fucked her into oblivion. was she a squirter or a creamer? you hoped to the heavens above you'd get to find out someday. maybe it was too much to fantasize like this, considering you formally met just now, but you weren't hurting anyone if it all never left the confines of your mind.

you were lucky you hid your own arousal well, nothing out of the ordinary showed on your face whatsoever. ellie wasn't so lucky—to her dismay, but to your delight—everything played out on her delicate features so clearly, it was nothing short of delectable. 

your eyes bore into hers, the intensity of the eye contact making her shiver, and attempt to break it. “ellie, ellie, ellie, may i call you els?” you didn't wait for an answer, and continued, “do you have a girlfriend?” you pouted your lips at her, feigning sadness as if her response was something you didn't already infer.

she was stuttering now, stumbling over her words, making less and less sense as the conversation went on. she was anxiously bouncing her leg, you could see her chest rising and falling, and her face had turned a lovely crimson color, it was so strong, the flush had spread down her neck and reached her ears, making her piercings stand out. good lord. 

“ahem- no, i don't have a girlfriend. actually never have, shocking i know.” she chuckles at her self-deprecating joke, and while her smile was enough to light up a room, you wanted to slap the doubt out of her. or rather, fuck it out of her. 

you exhaled loudly, “hahh, well isn't that a shame. you're so pretty, i'll just have to snatch you up for myself then.” she swallowed audibly, greatly taken aback. “sorry, what?” “oh, don't you know how much people love losers like you? tsk tsk tsk, you're so much hotter than you realize, i mean it, els. look at you! you've got these piercings, this tattoo, you're smarter than this whole class combined, seriously.” 

she just gaped at you, unable to process what she was hearing. no one had ever talked to her like this, it was only something she read about. and coming from you? this ethereal person who starred in all of her most intimate fantasies? she rubbed her eyes roughly, convinced she was hallucinating. her mouth opened and closed dumbly, her voice box failing to produce any sound. but you were affecting her so much, especially because she lusted after you to an extent she could only take to the grave.

flashes of her midnight escapades flickered in her mind, of her shoving her hand down her pants like an animal in heat, orgasming so intensely she'd black out, abusing her hole with nothing but images of you playing in her mind, and your name on her tongue. her cheeks burned with the embarrassment of her wild actions, and she shook her head to clear the thoughts away. 

you groaned and leaned back in your own seat, exclaiming, “god i'm so bored. and pent up, fuck. it's been so long since i had sex…” that was true. in any other situation you'd never say something like that aloud, but because you were alone with the clueless idiot you wanted so carnally, you let it slip. 

“...maybe you should take care of that.” you heard her cough out, her voice coming out strangled. “i could. but that's boring.” you opened your eyes again and smirked devilishly her way, poor girl looked like she was about to go on a trip with the ferryman. 

you grabbed her hand, examining it some more, commenting, “you play guitar, don't you? guitarists are very good with their hands, i will say.” you played with her hand, pressing it into a fist, then extending her middle and ring finger. gosh, what's gotten into you? “i bet you're sooo good.” 

you've never seen a person look more flustered than she did right now in this moment. her voice was impossibly quiet, barely above a whisper, “cut it out.” “okay, fine.”

some beats of silence passed, but a thought crossed your mind. if she really hated this interaction that much, she could have got up and left eons ago, yet she stayed here and endured it all. hmm. you blurted out, “els, have you kissed anyone before?” 

and again she stayed silent, even after you waited patiently for an answer. she kept looking away, her jaw tense. 

you decided to quit the teasing just for a moment, and speak to her gently, genuinely. you shifted to sit a little closer to her and asked, “do you want to?” her gaze locked onto your mouth, she licked her lips, then muttered, “if you're really offering and not just fucking with me, sure-” 

your patience broke and you didn't wait for her to finish her sentence before swiftly leaning forward and connecting your lips with hers, relishing the tiny gasp she made as soon as you did it. she tasted like a dream.

after a split second she kissed you back, it was inexperienced and clumsy, fueled by adrenaline, but she got into a rhythm soon enough. you took the lead and deepened the kiss, absent-mindedly tugging on her bottom lip with your teeth, coaxing eager whimpers out of her, pure music to your ears.

you succumbed to the sensations and increased the pace, your tongue dancing against hers. you felt her hands fumble by your waist, and she pulled you closer to her. your hands clawed at her chest, the beautiful symphony of panting, the wet smacking of your lips colliding, and her uncontrolled moans filled the empty room.

she gripped your waist so tightly, fingertips surely leaving small marks in their wake, you couldn't wait to find them later, and you shamelessly felt up her chest, your thumbs finding her nipples—perky, hard, and poking out through her thin shirt. you caressed and rubbed and squeezed, feeling her jolt under your magical touch.

she was fully whining now. spilling needy, high-pitched sounds, this was better than you could've ever imagined. neither one of you breaking the kiss for even a second, your hand trailed lower and landed on her stomach, slipping under the bottom of her shirt. you felt her defined abs tensing, and the whisper of a happy trail—now it was your turn to moan.

she got even louder and her kisses got sloppier, and you were about to venture inside her waistband before a sudden sound startled you both. 

your phone vibrated aggressively, and with great effort you separated yourself from ellie, long strings of spit connecting you to her still.

she whimpered from the loss of contact, chasing your lips, then huffing and quietly groaning while you took out your phone, her hands not letting go of your waist. when you checked it, it was a message from your friend, abby, just saying: URGENT. COME HERE NOW. ASAP.

fuck her. fuck her and her timing, was all you could think. really, now? you wanted to kill her.

trying to slow your breathing and racing heart, you explained apologetically, “ugh, it's urgent. im so, so sorry ellie, i gotta go.” she stared at you, speechless, but nodded meekly, reluctantly retracting her arms. you didn't want to leave, and stayed gazing at her for a little longer, and brushed a loose strand of soft hair out of her face. what a cutie, she looked all disheveled and dazed. you were about to look for a paper to scribble down your number to keep in touch, until your phone buzzed again, and started ringing with abby's repeated attempts to get ahold of you. couldn't she wait a minute?

you gave ellie one last devastated look, getting up and rushing out of the classroom before abby called you another seventeen times. 

ellie was left in the classroom, reeling from the encounter and what it had turned into. she was utterly bewildered at the events that transpired, her blood rushing in her ears, mind spinning, lips still puffy, glasses fogged over, hands trembling, and of course a sticky, uncomfortable damp spot in her boxers. she leaned forward to rest her head on the desk in front of her on top of crossed arms, to take a moment to cool down before escaping back to her place. 

“holy shit.” 

im horny🧍‍♂️just like ellie after that. as soon as she got home, u best believe she came so hard she saw literal angels and deities LMFAOO (this is my favorite thing ive ever written gawdDAYUM)

yall who wanted more, hope this suffices as a continuation! @stonerzdaze420692 @womenlvrrr

[vivwritesfics]

Hand Print

Carlos has these big strong sexy hands. He uses them to grip her ass in sex, leaves a hand print seen by Lando at the beach.

Warnings: smut, P in V, biting, marking

@biancathecool had the idea, I brought it to life lmaoooo

It made so much sense that he was strong enough for this, now. With all of the cycling he did, Carlos had been in the gym, working out his arms. Keeping his proportions the same.

She loved it. Loved the way it felt to have his strong arms wrapped around her. It was a turn on, actually. Cuddling with Carlos never lasted long when she could feel his muscles against her.

Fuck, she just wanted to bite him. Bite his strong, tanned arms. The joys of having an athlete boyfriend.

Where she liked biting her boyfriend, leaving gentle, consensual bite marks on his skin, Carlos liked to hold her ass.

Well, not just hold. His grip on her, on her hips, thighs, anywhere he could get a hold of. The way his tight grip left her skin with delightful bruises was just the cherry on top.

This time around, Carlos held her ass. He gripped the flesh as she rode him, her moans filling the room. "Fuck," he grunted and squeezed tighter, matching the way she was squeezing him, cunt gripping his cock.

It wasn't often their time away coincided with Lando, Carlos's best friend on the grid. They knew they were supposed to be going to the private beach with Lando and his new girlfriend, but the minute she put on that bikini, he had to have her.

And the feeling of her cumming around his cock was so fucking worth it. Even if she had to take a few extra minutes to fix her hair and makeup before they headed to the beach.

She didn't notice the handprint Carlos had left behind as she pulled her new bikini bottoms over her ass. Carlos just caught a glimpse of it as she pulled her beach skirt over the top. Damn, she was so fucking delectable.

Carlos held her as they made their way down to the beach. His big strong arms around her as he carried their things in his other hand. There was, quite literally, nothing better.

"Bit fucking late!" Lando called as they walked over.

Carlos sat their stuff down with a grin. "Got a bit... distracted," he said as she laid out the blanket. He watched as Lando rolled his eyes and she hit his chest.

The beach day started off normal. She laid in the sun, read her book and basked in the feeling of the warmth on her skin, as Carlos laid beside her, tracing patterns across her stomach.

There was no keeping this man away from his girl.

But then Lando had him up and playing football as she chatted to Lando's new girlfriend, getting to know her (it wasn't the first time they'd met, but the first time they'd met she hadn't been serious with Lando. So, Carlos's girl hadn't bothered).

She laid on her stomach as they talked and laughed, hand cushioning her head. "Oh, just wait until they try taking us golfing," she said and the other girl laughed. It seemed she had found a friend.

But this story isn't about friendship. This story is about Carlos and his big, strong hands.

After a good and probably unfair game of football in the sand (knowing the two of them, there was definitely some cheating going on), the boys wandered back over. "Here, baby," she said, handing Carlos a bottle of water. He downed it in one go.

"Thank you, Hermosa," he said as he leaned down to kiss her. It was pure bliss, just like every day with Carlos. But there is always something that interrupts that bliss.

"What the fuck is that on your ass?"

"Why are you staring at my ass, Norris?" She called back, immediately on the defensive. But, as she spoke, she was glaring at her boyfriend.

But Lando was still looking. Defensively, she pulled down her bikini bottoms to cover more of her ass, but in that moment, she only showed off more of the handprint on her ass.

"You guys are freaky as fuck," said Lando as he said beside his girlfriend.

"You haven't seen nothing, Norris."

It was only muttered as she pulled Carlos closer. "What the fuck is on my ass?" She hissed in his ear as she kissed the spot just beneath it.

Carlos flexed his fingers.

"You asshole, that's hot as fuck."

She ended up with a few more that night.

[unsteddie]

Steve and Eddie are on again off again for years after the events of st4. It's never too serious, they have basically opposite schedules. Eddie tends bar and plays with his band, existing mostly at night. Steve gets a degree and moves onto being a school counselor, late nights are the bane of his existence. It's easier when they live together, but over the years they've moved in and out of the little place they share with Robin.

Eddie's moved cities a few times, tried living with the band, has been on and off tour. Steve moved back home when his parents divorced for about a year to help his mom out, moved in and usually quickly out with partners. He volunteered a few summers to live in low income rural areas and help with the schools summer programs.

They just never quite get the timing right to try anything other than casual. It's honestly tearing Steve apart, it's been the source of every break up he's had since meeting the man. Eddie however seems entirely unbothered.

Steve knows for a fact he's Eddie's favorite person. Even when Eddie is "seeing" someone else, Eddie's relationships are never serious, he still prefers to spend his time with Steve. He just doesn't get why Eddie doesn't want something real, but he doesn't push, doesn't wanna lose what he has

It's a full decade of this nonsense before the song Quit Playing Games With My Heart by The Backstreet Boys comes out. Steve doesn't really care much about the band, he likes boy band music well enough. It's fun and catchy and danceable. But he's picking Eddie up from the airport, back from a three month stint in LA recording and promoting with the band. And the air is tense as the lyrics spill out of the radio, and it makes Steve feel heavy.

The song ends but he's still pretty misty, it's only ten minutes back to the apartment. He can hold it back, and when they're home he'll just excuse himself and cry quietly on his bed. He's done it plenty of times before, this is no different, he's got this, he's good.

"Stevie?" Eddie asks softly, and his his voice sounds strained, like something's got him worked up too.

Steve can't respond, not with his voice, so he just sort of nods, doesn't look at Eddie, but can feel the weight of Eddie's stare.

"What is it about me that you don't wanna stick around for?" He asks quietly, but there's a solid quality to his tone, like this is a question he's resolved to ask many times, and finally got his nerve up.

Steve doesn't respond for a long time, as pieces slowly move into place. Eddie has always seemed so unaffected, even congratulating Steve when things got serious with someone else. But if he looked closely at Eddie's reactions now, in retrospect, with the way he asked his quiet question, it clicks.

Eddie never liked any of Steve's partners, always gave Steve an out of he needed it, was always a little petty about Steve's ex's after a breakup. The thought that maybe, for all these years, a decade now, they'd been wasting their time keep things casual was just...well it was fucking hilarious. Terrible and heartbreaking, sure. But it kick started ridiculous sounding giggles.

Giggles quickly snowballed into full hysterical laughter. He glanced at Eddie who looked hurt, which was absurd. Steve's laughter became unhinged, and he had to pull off the road. Eddie didn't look hurt anymore when he looked back, he looked furious, and he was wiping his cheeks. Steve hadn't seen tears, but the idea that Eddie was crying over him did nothing to quell the laughter.

The moment the car stopped Eddie threw the door open, and climbed out. Grabbing his duffle from the back seat. He managed to stomp a good distance away before Steve could get himself together enough to chase after him. He was still giggling when he caught up enough to grab the strap of Eddie's bag. He pulled it back hard enough to knock Eddie off balance, and had to reach out to steady him.

"Eddie please," he paused to laugh and catch his breath as Eddie struggled to pull out of his grip. "Please, baby, give me a minute."

Eddie froze at that. They didn't use pet names like that. Nothing so relationship-y. It was enough to make Eddie wait for him. Steve didn't let go though, terrified Eddie might run off without a proper explanation.

He didn't know how to explain it, the years of longing, the way he'd wanted to ask the same question so many times, how he ached for him. He certainly didn't know how to explain his reaction.

"I don't know why it made me laugh like that." He started once he had his breathing under control. "Some stupid pop song-" and he was laughing again because this was stupid. He threw his hands up in frustration, immediately grabbing onto Eddie again when his hands came back down.

"some stupid pop song had me on the brink of tears, because my stupid, broken heart-" more laughter, and Steve was getting really tired of this. "Aches for you, when you've, I guess-" laughter, "been feeling the same way. God Eddie how stupid are we?"

And with that the giggles were gone, his insides had gone suddenly still, and he felt the loss of the time they could have had.

"how long?" Eddie asked, quiet again, he was never this quite. When Steve looked at him now his face was hard to read, tears still brimming in his eyes, but the anger and hurt were gone.

"since the boat house probably, at least since the hospital, for sure. When you woke up and you were cuffed to the bed. The first thing you said was some joke about being flattered they thought you were that dangerous. I knew for sure then, but I think it started in the boat house." Steve flushed, his face hot and pink.

"God, no, that's ..we can't have been feeling the same way so long. Stevie, what have we been doing?" Tears were falling, both men crying on the side of the road, and Eddie was holding onto Steve now too.

"Didn't think you'd want me for real. Didn't think anyone-" Steve coughed around the lump in his throat. "Tried to move on, so many times. Never could, it always came back to you."

And Eddie was suddenly in his arms, weeping, getting tight words out between sobs. "Never. Anything. Compare. No one. Even close. Just you. My Stevie."

"Didn't catch all that sweetheart. You'll have to tell me the rest later." Steve whispered into his ear, and Eddie melted in his arms, nodding emphatically into Steve's shoulder.

The time they waisted sat heavy on Steve's shoulders, but he had Eddie now. Eventually they would joke about it, about pining after each other for a decade before getting thier shit together, but it was gonna hurt for a while still.

[skyahri]

Robes |Zuko X Reader| HC

Summary: Your relationship with Zuko and how your friends found out.

Warnings: Implied intamacy???? Bed sharing. Kissing.

- - - - -

You were well acquainted with the Gaang. You'd served as a sort of double agent for them during the war once Zuko had teamed up with them. He knew they'd need some inside information, so he contacted you, knowing full well your ideals did not align with the fire nation.

You're the daughter of the prestigious Admiral Zhou, a ruthless military head who wouldn't hesitate to turn you in if he found out you were leaking information to the enemy.

It was easy to keep them updated. Your father had an ego the size of the moon, always going on and on about his achievements and new findings and whatnot. He was never home for long, leaving you in your mother's care and making it easy to sneak away. You mostly sent messenger Hawks, but once they'd infiltrated the fire nation you met in person.

You mostly met with Zuko, but occasionally, Sokka or Aang would take his place. You didn't mind. It was nice seeing more of the people you were risking your life for.

After the war, once Zuko took over as Fire Lord, he invited you to be a part of his cabinet. You weren't sure why, seeing as how the other members have some sort of military or consulting experience, and you're just a teenager who sent letters.

Strategy meetings were weekly, so you saw Zuko more often than any of the others. They visited when they could, but with the long list of air temple repairs, it was difficult to make time.

Not that you minded. You loved spending time with him, with or without the rest of the entourage.

Zuko was always accommodating to you, even going as far as to offer you a room in the palace 'if you ever need it.' He'd had the room fully furnished and closet stocked with spare outfits.

Occasionally, if meetings ran long, you'd stay in said room. It was a luxury the other members weren't granted, and honestly, it made you feel special.

When all the immediate post-war issues finally calmed down and Zuko had more free time, he always asked you to stick around or come keep him company.

He's the fire lord. He can't easily leave the palace, especially to do regular teenager things like laze around the shops or sneak into theaters, so you were limited to what the palace could offer.

You'd taken to gardening with him, something Zuko found very alluring. You played board games, baked pastries, and anything else you two could come up with.

Before long, you found yourself spending most of your time with him on the property. Occasional sleepovers quickly become several times a week. It wasn't long before you basically lived there, so you bit the bullet and brought the rest of your stuff to the palace.

Within a few months, you shared a kiss near the pond in the garden. Things slowly escalated over the next year or so. That first nervous kiss became the norm. You shared dinners and late night talks, often going so far into the night you'd just crash in his bed.

Before long, your room became obsolete. Your bed was hardly ever touched, your clothes were in his closet, items in his drawers, and toiletries in his restroom.

You'd heard the staff gossip from time to time, which you didn't necessarily mind, but it definitely made you blush. It felt like getting caught despite doing nothing wrong.

For a while, Katara would tease you mercilessly. She didn't know anything, or at least didn't lead you to believe she did. She just liked the idea of everyone finding someone, and you were the only girl Zuko ever talked to.

You went out of your way to cover up the obvious aspects of your relationship when your friends were around. You agreed early on to keep things under wraps, not wanting to harm the groups dynamic if things didn't work out.

But that was almost a year and half ago, and now it felt wrong to say anything. Like you had betrayed their trust somehow. You felt bad for lying to your friends about what was going on, but honestly, neither of you could bring yourself to admit the two of you had been dishonest for so long.

You woke up and patted the bed beside you. It was still warm, but Zuko wasn't there. You got up and picked up a robe off the floor to cover your nightwear. It was unlike him to leave without even waking you, so you'd go see what he was up to.

You exited his quarters and immediately saw the entire Gaang. They just stared at you in shock, having a hard time piecing things together.

"Did you just come out of Zuko's room?" Sokka asked.

"You saw me, didn't you?"

"Are those his clothes?" Katara asked.

You glanced down. They were, in fact, his clothes. You just stared at her, refusing to answer. Of course, Katara would notice they were his specifically and not just standard robes.

Zuko dragged his hand down his face. Of course, this is how they'd find out. Not after a long, thought-out conversation over a planned dinner or outing. They had to see you walk out of his room compromised after an impromptu visit.

They hastled you two for the rest of the day, asking horrifically personal questions and guilt tripping you into answering them. They bothered you for information about your intimate lives and dating preferences.

Late into the night, when the fire and excitement died down, Katara and Toph cornered you about the secrecy. You were huddled up in your room for a girls only sleepover when they decided to attack, giving you no choice but to be completely honest.

"We kept it quiet in case things didn't work out. Then some time passed... and we started feeling guilty about hiding it, and we just never found the right time."

"There didn't have to be a right time. Were your friends, not your subjects."

"I know. There's just a lot of pressure when you're with a friend who also happens to be the Fire Lord."

Luckily, you have amazing friends who understand people make mistakes. They squashed your anxiety about the whole thing, making sure you knew they weren't mad or disappointed.

But that absolutely did not stop them from holding over your heads for the unforeseeable future.

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

It was halfway through his shift the next day, just after he'd come back from lunch, that the anonymous tip came through. Dick had frozen when he heard it, but only slightly because the others were brushing it off as a prank call.

"'Blockbuster's after someone named Oracle,'" Officer Diaz had scoffed, "What a joke. Aren't kids supposed to know that their stupid prank calls clog the system? What if someone who actually had useful information had needed to call, huh?"

Dick didn't mention that that isn't how the tip system works, nor did he eve attempt to scold the officer for brushing it off, no matter how stupid it seemed. No, instead, he was stuck in his thoughts.

Blockbuster is after Oracle. Why is he after Oracle? It doesn't make sense! No one in Bludhaven, save for himself, should no who she is! Besides, he'd kept all of the attention on himself. No one was able to even think about the heroes or rogues in Gotham without him knowing! Or, so he'd thought. How does Blockbuster know Oracle's name? More importantly at the moment was who sent the tip.

There was another scoff from one of the others. Did he say that out loud? "Look, I know you're new and everything, but shouldn't you know the mean of 'anonymous'?"

He forced himself out of his head, rubbing his neck with his left hand with a fake smile. "Yeah, I do. I guess I'm just a bit out of it today."

"Well, get your head back in the game," Detective Soames snapped, hitting a file on the back of Dick's head, "File that for me, then file the rest on my desk."

"Yes, sir," Dick took the file, ignoring the snickers and snide remarks from his coworkers.

He knows he's not going to be able to fully focus on anything for the rest of the day, possibly not even until after he finds out who sent that tip and how Blockbuster knows Oracle's name.

Oracle. Dick knows she can handle herself, but he doesn't like the fact that anyone knows her name. Not even B knows about Oracle! Babs had spent so much time and energy keeping her online persona from B so that she could have at least something of her own that Dick had taken it upon himself to erase traces connecting him to Oracle. She didn't deserve to have Batman on her ass, nor did she deserve to have Nightwing's enemies go after her!

He shook himself back into the present with a soft sigh. He'll call Barbra as soon as he gets home.

***

"Danny!" Dick calls into the apartment, knowing full well that the kid is in the kitchen, "I'm home!"

"Welcome back," Danny responds from where he's standing at the stove. He, Dick realizes, does not sound happy.

He hangs his coat up on the hooks he installed beside the door, his shoes going on the rack below them. "You good? You sound a bit upset?"

"I am upset." Danny, after getting comfortable around him, has stopped sugar-coating his words, being brutally honest. Dick blinks. "I was going to message Tim, but I saw a lack of apologies from you."

Oh. Dick had meant to do what Danny said last night and apologise to that Tim kid for snapping at him, but he had been a lot more tired than usual and it had slipped his mind. "I was going to use my phone?"

"You don't have his number."

Another thing Dick had come to learn about Danny in the few weeks they'd been living together was that he can't be lied to. He somehow picks up on lies, so even Dick's best efforts - that have fooled even Batman! - are always thwarted.

"I meant to," Dick said, sitting on one of the new barstools at he island counter, "But I was really tired last night."

Danny sighed. "Because you were out longer than you're now used to." He turned the burner off, moving the pan to sit on the hotpad beside it. "You're body's gotten used to only being out for eight hours during the day and six hours at night. You going out for eight hours last night wore you out more than usual because you're no longer used to your seventeen hour work days."

Dick tilted his head, accepting the bowl of soup he was given. "But it's only been a few weeks?"

"It only takes eighteen days for your body to get used to a routine." He said, placing a bowl of homemade rolls on the island. "After about sixty-six days, it becomes habitual."

"But it hasn't been sixty-six days."

"No, but it has been twenty-one days."

He hesitated for a moment. "Has it really been only that long?" Then, "Have you been counting?"

Danny blushed, sitting beside Dick with his own bowl of soup. "I've been keeping track of your schedule, which means I gotta keep a calendar. I haven't been counting on purpose."

Dick smiled, eating the soup. As usual, it was really good. The first week of Danny's stay, he'd asked where he'd learned to cook, but Danny had given a non-answer, saying only that his parents couldn't make anything edible that wasn't fudge or cookies.

After they had both finished eating, Dick's portions and appetite being larger than Danny's because of the calories he burns as Nightwing, they settled into a nice quiet. Dick had changed from his uniform into sweats and a T-shirt while Danny had chosen a movie. Then, Dick cleaned up dinner and Danny changed into a hoodie and sweats.

"We still need to take you shopping," Dick pointed out when they were both sitting on the couch, ready to start the movie.

Danny shook his head. "Letting me stay here is already enough. Besides, your old clothes work perfectly fine."

"But you're room's so empty! And my clothes don't even fit you!"

There was a pause like Danny was thinking. Dick had the feeling he might not like whatever was going to be said next.

He was right.

"I'll let you take me shopping next week," Danny agreed, "if we go to Gotham tomorrow so that you can apologise to Tim in person."

Dick's jaw twitched. He didn't want to go to Gotham. Going to Gotham meant that he'd inevitably run into Bruce. He wanted to stay far away from that man.

Then again, he'd promised Alfred to come by some time. And, it'd be nice to see Barbra and Jim again. Maybe he could have Alfred make sure Bruce wouldn't be in the Manor?

"So?" Danny promted.

He sighed. "You're evil, y'know that?"

His grin said it all. "I could be so much worse."

"Please don't."

"Don't give me a reason."

Part 9 Part 11

[canichangemyblogname]

Actually, no. The shippers in the 911 fandom who primarily complain about Tommy and his past don't actually care about Tommy's past or his actions that contributed to the previous toxic workplace environment and harassment at the 118. Not everything is about a fucking ship, believe it or not, yet the only time they bring up his behavior is in relation to shipping. And because the only time they bring up a valid critique of Tommy's character is during shipping "discourse," I'm convinced it's not brought forth in good faith. Finding a way to tie everything to a ship—especially things like racism and misogyny—is cheap and tasteless. Not everything is about "shipping;" shut up about the shipping.

I don't think they actually want to discuss how white queers contribute to the marginalization of others, including other queer people, by weaponizing the patriarchy and/or white supremacy in their favor because so many of them are fellow white queers themselves. They don't care about how Tommy inadvertently, because of his past, provides a realistic portrayal of how white queers divide or hurt the larger community because of an inability to find solidarity with people of a different background, culture, or race (especially if it would "inconvenience" them or if it does not directly benefit them, like Chim saving Tommy's life). White people would rather choose misery and isolation over standing with or up for non-white people. White people are generally not willing to put in the work to build community; they'd rather contribute to the system or fly under the radar to avoid being shunned by the structures they, and the Ol' Boys Club, benefit from, like white supremacy or the patriarchy. Most white queers would rather be complaisant, complacent, and complicit. It's the white queer's adherence to oppressive systems that divide the community, not people's calls to tear those systems down. And it's only the white queer who can change their perspective on this.

Tommy only has himself to blame for his jealousy and alienation from a supportive and familial community, and only he can take the steps to ameliorate the situation. Tommy was an absolute fucking dick to Chim and Hen, and that has had long-term consequences on his life. Only he can correct for his behavior. He contributed to a toxic work environment, referring to Chim as a Chinese takeout delivery man, actively participating in Chim's hazing, and telling Chim that he did not like the man (mostly because he didn't know him). He would later call Hen "bitchy," and the men of the 118 would leave the "domestic work" to her as they did Chim, actively contributing to her hazing. He did not (verbally) stand up for her, iced her out, and also contributed to a homophobic work culture that made same-sex attraction the butt of jokes. He contributed to this toxic culture to fly under the radar, and that directly hurt people he should have extended a hand to.

Unfortunately for most of the fandom, this is, ultimately, a show that loves stories about redemption and resolution. And there is actual, explicit (meaning, non-subtextual) evidence that Tommy has put in some work to remedy what he did and who he was (including being able to 1.] own up to his past actions, 2.] understand how he hurt others, 3.] recognize why he did what he did and how that it is an explanation, not an excuse, and 4.] begin to make amends or rectify the situation, like reporting Gerrard and changing his mind about Hen and Chim). Hen and Chim would not have invited him for drinks regularly if they thought he was "irredeemable." The 118 would not have thrown him a going away party if they disliked him. Chim would not call in favors from Tommy on more than one occasion or even describe him as "so cool" if they weren't—well—cool. Eddie wouldn't enjoy ring-side fights and basketball games with Tommy if he didn't enjoy the man's company. Tommy also clearly refers to the type of man he was in the past tense, implying change over time. It can be argued that he has not put in enough work, but that's not what's being argued. We're getting bad faith arguments that Hen, Chim, and Eddie hate Tommy or bad faith arguments where Tommy's past actions are only brought forth as some sort of "gotcha" when a fan prefers canon representation over homophobic fan fiction tropes. You don't have to like Tommy, but making up non-textual reasons to dislike him is absurd.

Tommy, as a character in a narrative, provides a lesson for the general audience (GA), the majority of whom are white. It's not just important to see queer people on screen; it's important to see white people learn and change and admit they were wrong. It's also important that the show—well—shows the GA that whiteness and man-ness affect people's perception, position, and treatment. Tommy isn't just a gay man; he is a white gay man, and this has had a direct impact on how he navigates the world and how the world interacts with him. Gerrard treats men like Sal and Tommy differently than men like Chim or women like Hen, and staying in Gerrard's good graces—like the good graces of oppressive power structures—requires one to conform to a very narrow definition of a "real man," like being straight, white, palatable (like... not kinky, not risqué, not queer, all the things the fandom seems to actually hate Tommy for), and not helping oust regressive figures from positions of authority for the way they treat your coworkers. The audience got to see how Tommy went from being the prodigal son to being openly mocked by men like Gerrard. And it's important to show the GA that someone can and will be happier if they go against the grain and that admiration from men like Gerrard means very little in the grand scheme. Tommy is happier now after having been "rebuked" by men like Gerrard than he was when he strove for their praise and acceptance.

It's also important to show that men like Gerrard and his beliefs belong in the past, even though they exist in the present. This is a network TV show. A non-zero number of men like Gerrard catch this show weekly. It is still important to show that Gerrard is not the "type" of man anyone should aspire to be. His beliefs and actions are not commendable, and the show is very heavy-handed about this. The show is going to once again compare Gerrard ("bad captain") and Bobby ("good captain") to show how Bobby has created a good legacy at the 118. It began this parallel with Bobby Begins Again, continued to reinforce Bobby's good legacy in Buck's coma arc, and then revisited how Bobby has had a positive influence on the lives of the 118 in his season 7 montage. Now, the show is going to compare and contrast him and Gerrard to reinforce how important Bobby is to those around him. The show will also continue its inadvertent parallels between Buck and Tommy, showing how Buck is a different man under similar circumstances because he has had good influences (re: Bobby, Hen, and Chim) in his life. Buck and Eddie's relationship was shaping up to be very similar to Tommy and Chim's relationship: oppositional because of one-sided disregard and dislike, but it didn't because they had a good influence: Bobby (given the rather... fucked timeline, Tommy was likely newer to the 118 when Chim joined and, like Buck, his hostility and posturing were also likely influenced by insecurity and a desire to secure his position at the table).

Most unfortunately for many, the show is also going to show how Tommy has changed due to the same influences (re: Bobby, Hen, and Chim). They wouldn't have re-introduced both Tommy and Gerrard and mentioned their dynamic on more than one occasion if they weren't going to do something with that. Season 7 set up Tommy's upcoming arc very nicely. He knows the man he was, he knows the man who shaped him into that, and he knows how and why that was wrong. We'll get Tommy confronting his obvious daddy issues, jealousy, and desire for community (and why he didn't get a family-like dynamic at the 118, re: Gerrard *and* Tommy's own behavior). Tommy has been explicit about this, literally telling Buck that he envies the relationship the people at the 118 have and mentioning that he was not a good person, and this played a part in why he didn't have the same rapport.

9-1-1 is not a perfect show, but it does reflect some of the positive changes of our time. It's important to see representations of comp-het—like Buck, Tommy, and Michael—and how it negatively impacts people's character or relationships, and then how they—the character—can amend that. It's important to see stories that depict how silence is complicity and how refusing to be silent—as Hen refused to be—makes change and changes minds. It's important that the show reminds the audience that Hen is a black lesbian and that this has impacted how people see her and treat her, but that she is just as capable, if not more so. This includes men like Chim. Because I see nearly none of the people who "critique" Tommy in the name of "shipping" ever bring up how Chim has leaned on the patriarchy for support and a position at the table. He may have been the kindest to Hen, but he was by no means normal about women. And it is important to see how non-white men benefit from the patriarchy even as they are victimized by white supremacy. It's also important that the show shows the GA that non-white men are not affected by white supremacy equally, as Michael and Harry have had discussions about blackness and police brutality, a conversation that Chim is never going to have to have with his children, but that doesn't mean that Chim won't have to one day have a discussion with Jee-Yun about how and why some people treat her differently.

But the fandom approaches everything in a very... Catholic way. They don't approach this from the view that people can change and should be pushed to change; rather, they shun people like they've been marked by original sin. The structures we live under have deeply affected each and every one of our worldviews. "You are not immune to the propaganda" includes your personal philosophies and ideologies as well as the things you were taught since you were a child, consciously and "subconsciously." But, people would rather condemn everyone else as "irredeemable" than look critically at their own behavior out of fear of being "one of the bad ones." They'd rather *not* accept the fact that everyone has learning and changing to do as that would reflect upon them, too. This leads to being very resistant to being told that you're mistaken, you've hurt others, or that your behavior and beliefs contribute to repressive, dangerous, or toxic ideas (and we've seen a lot of that; y'all do not create safe online spaces). This leads to a lack of personal change as well as a lack of change at the interpersonal level because rather than teach or challenge, they stick up their nose and turn the other way. "Their barbaric bigotry; my enlightened neglect."

So, really, they've learned nothing from a character like Tommy.

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 4

max Verstappen x single mom!reader (with logan sargeant)

{masterlist}{prev} {next}

warnings: cursing, minimally proofread, masturbation (m), lando gives wisdom Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 5682 auth.note: logan girlies frighten me but i love y'all :) spotify: i made a playlist

The alarm started ringing and Max sighed, reaching over to turn it off. It wasn't as though he was asleep. Sitting up on the side of the bed he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, groaning when Jimmy gave a sleepy mew and jumped off the bed. "Ja, early morning," he sighed, switching on the lamp and getting to his feet. His cat didn't care, already slipping from the bedroom with his tail high. Sassy glared at him from the foot of the bed and he sighed again, grabbing his phone and turning off the lamp.

He grabbed jeans and a white t-shirt to put on before leaving the room, wondering again why he'd agreed to do this. It was stupid. No one cared what a day in his life was like, he was sure of that, no matter how many comments y/n had shown him on Checo's video asking when they'd get one of him. But it was too late to back out now—

His phone screen lit up and he stood in the bathroom, staring at her message.

-Good morning, I'll be there in ten minutes.

Crisp and professional. Just as it was supposed to be. Just as she had been for a week. When he'd messaged her the day before to bring Kevin over for another Disney movie she'd said yes, and had sat as far from him as physically possible while still being in the same room.

-I'll be ready. I'm up. Ok.

Eight minutes later she was at the door, looking maddeningly well-rested and relaxed and he didn't know why but that only annoyed him even more. He took the camera bag from her, noticing she was wearing baggy pants and an oversized sweatshirt instead of the usual jeans and Red Bull team shirt.

"I'll change before we go to the track," she told him.

He hated that the first few moments he was around her now were a little awkward. "What do you want to get first?" he asked, reaching up to smooth his hair and freezing when she moved to stop him. "What?"

"A day in the life, Max. Let your hair be messy. And you said you have coffee first thing right? So we'll do that – I've got the list you made." She took a sip from the to-go cup in her hand and he smelled coffee. "Kevin said to tell you good morning, have a great practice, and he had fun yesterday."

"I did too," he said. It was the truth. They'd watched a movie, and when that was over y/n had still been working on her laptop so he'd given Kevin a tour of his game room, letting him see and hold his trophies and helmets and even giving him a couple laps in his racing sim. She'd joined them, and for a little while it had been comfortable and easygoing, with her teasing him about his fridge of Red Bull within reach and having so many trophies he was running out of room to put them. He'd been about to suggest dinner, the words on the tip of his tongue, when she'd said it was time for them to get going.

She had the camera out, and so he started his day, answering her questions about trying to keep to a routine. The sun was coming up and she joined him on the balcony, asking about daily habits that stuck with him from childhood. He drank his coffee, watching out the corner of his eye as Sassy, his antisocial cat, jumped up into her lap and settled in for a cuddle.

"She's sweet," y/n said, and though there was a gap of at least six feet between them he could hear the cat's purring.

He made a face. "She hates being held."

Y/n looked at him, then down at Sassy. "Is that true?" she asked softly, running one hand over Sassy's fur.

As though intent on making him a liar, Sassy let out a squeaking purr and stretched, headbutting y/n's chin. Max scoffed, finishing his coffee. "She usually hates being held."

"Maybe you just don't know how to hold her properly," she said, turning her attention fully on the cat.

"I hold her just like I hold Jimmy," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"But you're not Jimmy, are you, darling?" she cooed, rubbing Sassy behind the ears and kissing the top of her head.

Max waited, knowing how much Sassy hated that sort of attention. And, traitor that she was, Sassy leaned into the touch, purring almost ecstatically. "You're making me look bad."

Y/n snorted, lavishing Sassy with affection for a few more moments. She set the cat down and stood, and the cat stayed close to her throughout the rest of the morning, calling and winding between her ankles as she got shots and video of Max doing his morning stretching.

"You do this every morning?" she asked, and Max exhaled with a nod while she got on her hands and knees next to him.

"It keeps me focused," he said after leaning on his knees. "Plus this is just a warmup. I'll do training with Rupert before lunch."

"Strength and cardio, right?"

"Will you be doing that with me too?" he asked, resuming his plank.

"Only if I'll get tequila at the end of the day like I did last week."

He chuckled. "I can do a gin and tonic."

"I've never had one of those," she said, trying the plank again.

"You have to lift your hips up a bit more," he pointed out. "And keep your back straight."

She tried again and he pushed himself back, turning to kneel next to her. His hands were on her hips, guiding them up, one hand moving to rest on her back, before he realized what he was doing. Hearing her shaky breath he paused.

"Sorry—"

"No, you're fine, I want to do it. Or at least be able to say I tried."

He nodded, adjusting her form, somehow able to focus on the exercise and not the sudden fantasies that were flashing in his mind. Swallowing hard, he wondered if they'd start invading his daily life and not just his dreams now. "Keep your head down, otherwise you might strain your neck."

"How long do I hold it?"

"It's your first time?" he asked, finally moving his hands from her.

"Doing a plank or having a guy manhandle me?" she huffed.

"Y/n—"

"Sorry, haven't had all my coffee. Yes, it's my first time."

"Then as long as you can."

"How long do you hold them?"

"Two minutes usually."

"Fucking showoff," she muttered, stretching out her arms and relaxing completely.

"I've been doing them for years," he chuckled. "C'mon, time for breakfast."

He was glad she ate with him, glad he'd picked up a few things from the shop the evening before that he'd remembered she liked. It seemed so normal, chatting with her while he cooked, Jimmy by his feet and Sassy by hers. But it made him homesick, nostalgic for something he'd never had.

"I only cook when I'm home," he said. "During preseason I have my meals prepped for me to get me back on track – turn on the kettle?"

She reached over to switch it on. "If you could have anything for breakfast without worrying about training or meal plans, what would it be?"

"This is where I say a cold Red Bull," he joked. When she rolled her eyes and laughed, he grinned. "Waffles. A stack this high." He held his hand several inches above the plate by the cooktop. "With bacon, the kind you can only get in America. And a large glass of milk."

"Butter and maple syrup?" she asked.

"Lots of butter, and the good maple syrup." Looking at the eggs on toast he was plating, he sighed. "I'll have it during our summer break."

"Two weeks off, right? Do you already have plans?"

"Last year I went to South America. I think this year I'll go home, yeah? Spend some time with my mum." Seeing that she was already fixing their tea, he carried the plates to the table and then fed Jimmy and Sassy. "What about you?"

"I'm not sure yet. I'm hoping to get to go home for a few days." She handed him a cup of tea and sat down. "My family usually gets a cottage at the beach for a couple weeks in the summer, and the break starts the second week they're going this year. Kevin misses his Nana, so I've got to get him back for a visit."

"You're close to your mum?" he asked once they'd started eating.

"Pretty close. We had a falling out when I graduated high school. She wanted me to stay near home and go to the local college, but I wanted to go to a school that had a good program. That led to a fight, especially when I was accepted and announced I was going halfway across the country…" She sipped her tea. "Then I graduated and came back home and… It was weird for a little while? But we both apologized and then Kevin came along, and well. She would have forgiven anything, I think, to be able to be in his life."

He nodded, understanding what that was like. Hadn't he done the same with his father? "Can I—" he stopped when her phone buzzed loudly on the table.

Y/n picked it up with a murmured apology, smiling slightly at the screen before answering. "Hey…"

Max's toast turned to cardboard in his mouth when he saw the name on the screen.

"Yeah, I'm at Max's. Day in the life thing. Yeah." She laughed.

He forced the last of his food down his throat and drank his tasteless tea, carrying his dishes to the sink while she talked to Logan.

"No, Ellie's bringing him. Probably around noon?" She paused and he knew she was smiling even though his back was to her. "You're sweet. I'll see you in a little bit? Yep. Okay, I promise. Bye."

"All good?" he asked, forcing himself to sound as casual as possible. Taking her plate when she brought it to the sink, he saw she was still smiling.

"Yeah, it was Logan. He wanted me to bring Kevin to the track. I'll do the dishes since you cooked," she insisted, waving him away.

He stepped aside, opening his mouth to point out the dishwasher but, knowing she would just wash them by hand anyway, he closed it. Leaning against the counter, he folded his arms over his chest. "How was your dinner with him last week?"

She looked at him in surprise. "It was nice."

He nodded. "About—" The timer he'd set on his phone went off and wanted to send his phone through the window. Snatching it up, he silenced it and ran a hand over his face. "I've got to shower, then we can head to the track."

"Sure thing." She tipped her head. "Alright if I change in your room while you shower?"

"Of course." He pushed away from the counter. "No photos of my closet."

She laughed at that, and he felt the awkwardness drift away. "No photos of the closet, promise. But I can get one of the Red Bull pillow on the bed?"

"Absolutely not," he snorted, her laugh following him from the kitchen. He went to the foyer to check his backpack, making sure all his necessities for the day were packed in it. Leaving his phone beside it, he thought about the upcoming practice, mind on the adjustments made in anticipation of the race. He pushed open his bedroom door so he could grab clothes, lurching to a stop at the sight of the nearly nude woman by his bed.

Y/n whirled around, one arm crossing over her bare chest, eyes wide.

"S-sorry," he blurted, quickly looking away even though it was too late for that. "Just need to grab something."

She turned her back to him, and he saw her hand shoot out to snatch her hoodie off the bed, holding it to her. "I thought you were showering."

"I had to get my things ready," he explained, wondering why he felt the need to defend his movements in his own home. "I thought you were washing dishes."

"It was a skillet, two forks, two plates, two mugs, and a spatula. Hardly a big job."

He quickly grabbed clothes, muttering a few more apologies. About to leave, he saw her turning to look over her shoulder and felt his knees weaken. His hip slammed into the corner of the bureau and he winced, cursing, snatching his gaze from her bare skin and leaving the room as quickly as he could, making sure to close the door behind him.

"Fuck me," he groaned, nearly tripping over Sassy, who was of course waiting right outside the door. Stepping around her, he went straight to the bathroom, trying with all his might to focus his mind on practice. The car. The track. Anything but her, because if he let himself think of her he would only think of how badly he'd wanted to—

No. Not allowed. He couldn't kiss her, he damn sure couldn't lay her down in his bed and learn all the secrets of her body. Couldn't find out how her lips tasted, whether she preferred to be held gently or grabbed roughly. Would never learn if she moaned and gasped or whined and squealed. Could never have the taste of her on his tongue or know how wet she could get.

His body craved her like water and he felt nothing but intense desire as he stood under the showerhead, not even trying to deflect his arousal. Giving in, he set the soap down and grasped his cock. He closed his eyes, letting the fantasies run wild. His hand was a sad substitute for what he truly craved. His mind replayed the split second view of her breasts he'd gotten over and over and he was almost ashamed of how quickly he came, gritting his teeth to keep from moaning loudly while his cum splashed on the tile.

Panting, still craving her, he washed himself, trying and failing to push thoughts of her to the back of his mind. Mad at himself for not being in control of his own body, he dried off and dressed, realizing he was taking more concern with his appearance than usual when he smoothed the pomade Charles had given him months ago through his hair. Cursing, he ran a comb through it, scowling at his reflection as he sprayed cologne. "Stupid," he muttered, pulling his shirt on and snatching the bathroom door open.

"No team shirt? I thought you weren't allowed to wear anything else," she teased when he entered the living room.

He looked down at the white tee, unconsciously smoothing it. "I don't live in team clothes," he muttered. He finally looked at her, clenching his jaw to stop his eyes from dipping to her chest.

She'd put on a bra. Pity.

"It looks good. Jeans and a white t-shirt are classic. Very James Dean."

"Who?" Was that some other idiot asshole talking to her? He knew about Logan—

"Actor from the 50's. According to my grandma, all the women wanted him and all the men wanted to be him." She smiled as she zipped up her camera bag. "I watched his movies. If I'd been alive back then I'd have wanted him, too. Ready?"

He nodded, grabbing a jacket. Said goodbye to the cats and watched her get more affection from Sassy in thirty seconds than he had in all the time he'd owned her. Another fantasy formed, and he wondered what it said of him that he was imagining her in his bed. Instead of a sexual slant, the fantasy was her cuddling his cats. Not used to the warmth it filled him with, he let the fantasy play out while they gathered their things, liking the mental image of Kevin and a faceless little girl joining them for morning snuggles.

The elevator ride was interminable, cramped, and he tried to remember what normalcy was while he breathed in perfume and shampoo and pretended she wasn't touching him.

"Are you wearing cologne?"

"A little." The doors open and he breathed clean air with utter relief. Did she like it? Did it bother her? Had he put too much? Should he—

"Smells nice," she murmured as she stepped into the lobby.

Max exhaled harshly, letting his head fall back against the wall, glancing up at the ceiling. "You've got a terrible sense of humor," he muttered to whatever gods might be listening.

"Did you say something?" Y/n asked.

"No," he lied, pushing away from the wall and exiting the elevator. "Just thinking about practice."

She asked him more questions, about the track, if he considered it at least a little his home track since he lived there. Nodded and listened to his answers as they walked to the dock. And it was all almost normal on the boat ride over, her filming clips to post later and getting photos. Then more normal once they stepped onto the trackside dock, surrounded by people now.

Once they reached the paddock she touched his arm to get his attention, not that she really needed to.

"I'll meet you at the garage? I'm gonna run see Kevin for a minute," she said.

"Of course." He reached for her camera bag and backpack. "You can bring him back for a visit—"

"Mama!"

He swung his head around, smiling at the sight of Kevin through the crowd. His expression soured when he saw who was carrying him, but he managed to keep the smile on his face as Logan walked up, greeting him with a nod.

God, he hated this. Hated the way she smiled up at Logan, hated their easy, familiar conversation while he handed Kevin over and told her Ellie had stopped to chat with Oscar. He hated that he hated it and cleared his throat. "See you in a bit, I've got to meet with Christian."

She nodded, and he made sure to speak to Kevin before walking off. Barely two seconds later Lando fell into step next to him.

"Aw, look at 'em. Like a family, yeah?"

Max had nothing but respect and admiration for Lando, but he would have gladly shoved him off the dock if they'd been close enough. "Who?"

"Your social media girl and Logan." Lando grinned, glancing back. "Should've seen her kid like thirty minutes ago. He worships Logan."

"Of course he does, the guy has the mindset of a three-year-old," Max muttered.

Lando exploded with laughter. "The fuck?" He followed Max into the Red Bull motorhome. "Is that jealousy I hear?"

"No."

"Ah c'mon, it's me. Your buddy. Your mate."

"Don't you have things to do?" Max muttered, waving to people milling about as he made his way to his driver's room.

Lando was close on his heels, and the door hadn't fully closed before he started in again. "So you like her?"

He set her bags down and shrugged off his backpack. "Who?"

"Y/n."

"She's my colleague."

"Colleague. You sound like a pretentious dickhead." Lando dropped into a chair and shoved his feet on the corner of the table. "Tell Lando about it, mate. I'm your friend, I won't judge you, just give you advice."

"I don't need your advice," he snorted, kicking Lando's feet down.

"But it's good advice!"

He groaned. "What is it?"

"First you need to tell me the problem." Lando leaned forward, looking far too excited. "You're down bad for her, aren't you?"

Max stared at him, unblinking.

"She gets you all fired up? Got you picturing her doing nasty, freaky things with you? Leaves you bricked and fighting for your life?"

"Jesus," he muttered, looking away.

"Oh, you're desperate," Lando said.

"I am not desperate," he scoffed.

"You're all dressed up. Isn't today when she spends the whole day with you?"

"I'm not dressed up." He wasn't sure what was worse, how he was feeling or hearing Lando describe them in his ridiculous way. "And yes, for the day in the life."

"You did something to your hair, you're wearing your pussy magnet cologne, and you're not wearing Red Bull." Lando ticked off his fingers. "You. Are. Desperate."

"And what if I am?" he asked.

"Mate… Just fuck her and get it over with it."

He laughed. "Life changing advice, mate, I never thought of that."

"See? I'm good—"

"I can't."

Lando's face twisted in confusion. "What do you mean, you can't?" His eyes widened. "Are you – You know you can get medicine for that? No shame in it nowadays. Happens to a lot of guys. Not me, but—"

"What the hell—" Max groaned, throwing a Red Bull at his friend. "I'm not impotent, asshole."

"Oh. Good, because really I'd be worried. You're not that old—" Lando sent the can back. "So why can't you? Because of Logan? They're not official. Just a few dates. He went to see her at her place, but I think they're just friends."

"How do you know all this?" Max asked, checking the time.

"He tells Osc everything and I have a knack for finding out by asking leading questions."

"You mean you're nosy."

Lando waved one hand. "Yes."

"It's not because of him," he finally said after opening a can and taking a swig.

"Then…" Lando threw up his hands and let them fall dramatically. "Why aren't you putting kids in her?"

Max almost choked on his drink. "Mate—"

"She's a fucking milf—"

"Don't say that—" Max held up a hand. "Stop. I can't."

"Again, why?" Lando gasped. "Mate," he whispered. "Did you try and she turned you down?"

"No, she didn't – I – we work together." He rolled his eyes when Lando snorted. "It's in the contracts, mate."

"You're joking."

"Do you want to see a copy?" he finished the drink and crumpled the can.

"No, I mean, you can't be serious? That kind of stuff is only for doing shit in public." Lando shook his head. "It's an easy workaround. Just do it in private."

"What, like I'm ashamed?"

"No, no, c'mon! Stolen looks? Carefully brushing her hand when you're walking together? Sending her a filthy text before an interview? Then as soon as you're back home you bend her over and fuck—"

"Stop."

"It'll be your dirty little secret. You'd have to make sure the kid doesn't notice but as long as you keep it to hotel rooms and when he's asleep that wouldn't be a problem." Lando smiled, expression smug, as though he'd just solved all the world's problems. "As long as you don't say in an interview that you're fucking her, you're good."

"You're insane," Max muttered with a shake of his head. "I can't—"

There was a knock on his door. "Mister Max!"

He was opening it in an instant, grunting when Kevin ran into him. Y/n was behind him, gently chastising him for being so impatient, and Max waved off her concern, catching the boy and lifting him up for a hug. "You having a good day, kleine maat?"

"Yeah! I got my scooter! Can we ride?" Kevin asked hopefully.

"Of course we can." He met y/n's eyes over the boy's head. "Just a little ways down the track?"

She looked ready to say no, but finally nodded. "I've got to get some posts up. Ellie's getting a migraine so she'll probably want to leave soon—"

"Well then we can have fun without her, can't we mate?" he asked Kevin, who giggled. Ruffling his hair, he set him down and looked at her. "Go ahead and do your work, yeah? I'll keep an eye on him."

Her eyes softened and he knew she wanted to insist he didn't have to. That Kevin could go back to the hotel with Ellie. But she smiled. "Thank you."

"Let's go get your scooter, mate," Lando said suddenly.

"Stay with Lando, yeah?" Max told Kevin, looking at his friend. "Don't let go of him."

"He's such a dad," Lando sighed to the boy, taking his hand and leading him from the room. "Does he tell you to eat your vegetables?"

It's not contagious. Just her migraines are bad right now. I think it's the change in environment. She's not used to the English weather.

She's going to a doctor tomorrow?

Yeah but I don't think they'll have a miracle cure.

Just bring him, y/n. The whole team loves him. We can keep an eye on him when you have to work, and he can stay in the motorhome when it's busy.

Christian said the same thing.

Sometimes he's smart.

You're terrible. Okay, I'll bring him.

Good. Tell Ellie I hope she gets some relief. Is she getting rest?

She just went to bed even though it's only 7. She took a pill that doesn't help the pain but helps her sleep.

She'll be okay, y/n. They'll have something to help her.

Thanks, Max. See you in Montreal.

Safe travels, y/n. Give little mate a hug for me?

Every day. :)

Y/n smiled over the messages and then returned to the messages with Christian. After telling him she would have Kevin with her for the Montreal and getting his assurance that it was okay, she locked her phone, sighing. "Well, buddy, looks like you're coming to Canada."

Kevin looked up from the hot wheels he was lining up on the rug. "Really?"

"Yep. But Mama's gonna be working a lot so we'll be at the track all the time." She hoped this wasn't a mistake. There were countless ways he could get hurt. "You'll have to stay where I tell you."

Kevin nodded. "Okay Mama." He rubbed his nose. "Is Mister Logan coming?"

The duality of child, she thought with another sigh. "Yeah, he'll be here soon. Remember to keep it down, though. Ellie's sleeping." She got to her feet and stepped over his cars so she could get the popcorn ready. "Can you get the movie ready?"

"He said Cars is his favorite," her son reminded her.

"He did."

"Mister Max likes it too. But his favorite is Aladdin."

"I thought his favorite was Tiana?"

"His favorite princess." Kevin followed her into the kitchen, pushing his stool to the counter and climbing up. "But he loves Aladdin."

"Why does he love Aladdin?" she asked, taking down the packets of microwave popcorn.

"He says the genie."

"Well, he has a point." She put a packet in the microwave and moved to get a bowl.

"He likes Tiana because she works for what she wants." Kevin spoke slowly, and y/n knew it was because he wanted to make sure he repeated Max verbatim. He even, probably unintentionally, copied Max's slight lisp.

And so it was that when Logan arrived, she and Kevin were in a debate over the work ethic of Disney princesses.

"I'm not saying she held down two jobs, but Cinderella worked," she insisted while she opened the door. "She cooked and cleaned and dealt with everything in the castle – Hey, c'mon in – and you need to remember it was set like two or three hundred years ago, of course she didn't have a job"

"But she only danced," Kevin said as he greeted Logan with a hug. "Tiana turned into a frog, Mama."

"Are we arguing?" Logan asked with a chuckle.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "I'm trying to defend my girl Cindy and he's showing misogyny."

"Am not," Kevin huffed. Tugging on Logan's shirt, he waited for him to lean down before whispering. "What's miss… That mean?"

"I think it means when a man expects a woman to stay home and cook and clean and raise babies," Logan whispered back.

"That's stupid."

"There's my sweet boy again. Go pick up your cars," she told him, laughing when he ran off to do so. Taking Logan's jacket, she draped it over the hook by the door. "Hey."

"Hey," he murmured, smiling.

His kiss wasn't unexpected. He'd kissed her plenty of times since their dinner in Italy. But there was something added in, something she couldn't quite identify but knew she liked. Leaning into him, she hummed softly when his hand lightly cradled her neck, pulling back at the sound of Kevin throwing his cars into the bin.

"Date in Montreal?" Logan asked.

She opened her mouth to say yes, then bit her lip. "I don't know. I have to bring Kevin with me."

"Oh. I thought he was staying here with Ellie?"

"He was, but she's been having really bad migraines since Monaco. She's going to the doctor tomorrow, but I can't just expect her to deal with him and all that."

"We'll still do something fun."

"We will," she promised, leaning to kiss his cheek. "Go on, I'll get the popcorn."

They parted, and she heard him talking to Kevin while she got the popcorn and drinks. When she brought it out he was already on the couch, remote in hand and following Kevin's directions to find the movie, like he hadn't used their TV half a dozen times by now.

"This is his favorite movie that he watches every other day, so he'll be talking along with it," she warned him with a smile once they were settled and he'd hit play. She could already tell that Kevin would be out before the movie was finished, recognizing the way he rubbed his eyes as he snuggled between her and Logan. Picking up her phone so she could check her email, she half paid attention, frowning when a text from Ellie popped up.

Is your boy toy here? I want water.

She rolled her eyes.

He's not my boy toy but yes. I'll bring you some.

"Be right back," she whispered to Logan, pushing herself off the couch and going to the kitchen to fix a cup of water for her friend. Slipping into the bedroom, she closed the door and approached the bed. "Hey," she whispered, setting the cup down.

Ellie groaned, slowly sitting up. "Thanks."

"Pill hasn't kicked in yet?"

"Almost. Logan here?"

Y/n smiled. "Yeah. Watching Cars."

"Romantic." Ellie breathed deeply. "Water?"

Handing it to her, she sat on the edge of the bed. "You're drugged so you'll be honest…"

"Yes, I think you should sleep with him."

She blinked, pressing her hands to her face. "Thanks, El."

"Welcome." Ellie pushed the cup to her. "He's cute and he likes you. And it's been years since you had some good dick. Sleep with him."

She stood and leaned to kiss her friend's head. "Go to sleep, babe."

"Loves you," Ellie mumbled sleepily.

"Love you more." Leaving the cup on the nightstand, she tiptoed from the room.

She didn't want to sleep with Logan, did she? Just because he was cute – which he was, but she preferred the term handsome – and liked her? She did like him. He was good with Kevin, and he was nice. He hadn't been pushy at all since their not-a-date dinner date, but she wasn't blind. She could tell he wanted more than the quick, stolen kisses.

Just as she'd known he would, Kevin was asleep before the movie was halfway through, and she pried him from Logan's shoulder to go tuck him in. When she returned, he'd turned off the movie and put on Netflix, and she reclaimed her spot.

"Is it okay for me to hang around?" he asked, pushing the popcorn bowl onto the coffee table.

"Of course." Smiling, she laughed when he flopped back, one arm draping around her and dragging her close. She barely paid attention to the show he'd turned on, letting herself enjoy the physical closeness. His hand rubbed her arm and she shifted closer, resting her head on his chest.

"Y/n?"

"Hm?" She tipped her head back, surprised – but not really – when he took the opportunity to kiss her. His arm tightened around her, other hand coming up to cup her cheek and she sank into the kiss, whining a little when he pulled back. "Okay?"

"Y-yeah," she breathed, nodding, shifting so she was kneeling, hands gently grabbing the front of his shirt as their lips met again.

"So we can be more than friends?" he asked between kisses.

Y/n exhaled shakily, wondering how he could ask that question when his hand was sliding under her shirt. Or was he expecting her to determine their relationship? "I mean… Yeah? We can just…" It was hard to concentrate with his hand creeping closer to her breast. "Figure it out as we go?"

"I like that," he whispered.

His fingers brushed the outer curve of her breast and her mouth went dry, feeling the flames of yearning in a long time. "I like that, too," she whispered, threading her fingers through his hair. She pulled back just when her lips brushed his again, slightly panicked at the thought of having sex on the sofa. "B-but we don't have to go all the way tonight, do we? I don't—"

I don't want to tarnish the couch my son naps and watches TV on.

"No, no, it's okay. I'm good with just kissing you," he promised.

"We can make out," she suggested, because she needed a little more than kissing. Just the training wheels until she remembered what to do and what she liked.

"Hands above the waist?" he asked while slowly guiding her down.

"Good idea." She had the distinct impression that if his hands went below her waist she'd be begging for more. And she wasn't ready for that. Not yet.

Maybe not ever, and as she started to lose herself in his kiss she wondered if he'd be okay with that, too.

Taglist:

@spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris | @kravitzwhore | @younxii | @silentreader128 | @samantha-chicago | @mrsbrxkkxr | @cmleitora | @jasons-little-princess | @toldyouitwasamelodrama | @aundercover | @kiwi43-81 | @awritingtree | @voidsfics | @manicpixiemom | @misartymis | (i think i got everyone)

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

So Blue | Han Jisung

•Synopsis: Who can you turn to in a dire situation if not your best friend? That's what Jisung thought when he texted you. Heart racing with fear that your best friend was hurt, you rush to his side. What you find however will change everything...

•Pairings: non idol Jisung x Female Reader

•Content Includes: smut, friends to lovers, strong language, mention of sexual enhancement drug, light anxiety, creampie, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, cum eating

an: photos of Han used in title graphic have been edited for entertainment purposes by me and are not real. no harm is intended in the edited pictures. also please do not take any enhancement meds without talking to a doctor for your own safety. i don't condone the behavior that's written.

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

The house is quiet, way too quiet when you step inside. Knowing Chan, Changbin, and Jisung for years, you know it's never this quiet when they're around and it's unsettling... Shutting the door behind you and glancing around, you see nothing out of the ordinary. So far everything looks exactly the way you left it last night after the four of you hung out. Just as you're about to walk into the kitchen, you hear Jisung start calling your name from his bedroom. Your heart races with panic and you rush towards his room, dropping your bag on the floor along the way. All kinds of awful scenarios play in your mind and when you burst into his room you half expect to find him bloody or with a broken bone, not sitting on the edge of his bed in a white sleeveless shirt and black shorts, with his legs spread sporting a massive hard-on.

"Wait, why me?" you blurt out, when Jisung explains that he needs your help. Your cheeks heat up as you steal a quick glance at the unmistakable bulge in his shorts. There's a mix of embarrassment and unexpected arousal that floods through you, leaving you flustered.

You're shocked, jaw practically hitting the floor. Who knew he was so… big? After all these years of friendship, you never thought of him in any other way except as your weird and talented friend. But now, seeing him in this state… It's making you feel things you'd rather deny and your stomach is flipping like crazy. Every now and then you notice that his cock twitches underneath his shorts as if it's alive, pulsating and drawing your eyes down to it again despite how hard you try not to stare. Kind of hard when something that size is practically waving “Hello” at you.

"I- I can't tell the guys this. They'd clown me for life," Jisung stammers, fidgeting as he looks at you from across his messy room. Plastic water bottles scattered, tissues crumpled on the floor—yeah, it's pretty clear what he's been up to before you got here.

"Well, what do you expect me to do, Han Jisung?" you retort, emphasizing his full name for dramatic effect.

"I don't know," he mumbles, shrugging his shoulders. "It's been hours. I can't even leave my room. It hurts, y/n."

When he grabs at the stiffness beneath his cotton shorts and lets out a low groan, you stop breathing. Why does this have to turn me on? He's my best friend! You mentally scold yourself, tearing your gaze away. Shit, it's hot in here. Your body feels too hot all over. It's like standing too close to a blazing fire, the heat making you squirm uncomfortably.

"Ji... we need to get you to the hospital," you say, avoiding his gaze. "You've seen those commercials."

"Please, no! I can't let anyone see me. Did you forget, your bestie Annie, who also happens to be Chan's girl, works there. If she sees me, it's game over. She'll tell him." Jisung pleads, hands clasped together, desperation evident in his wide brown eyes. Those puppy dog eyes of his always get to you.

"Dude, what were you even thinking, taking Love?" you groan, plopping down on the cozy carpet with a heavy thud, completely confused by your friend's decision to take an enhancement pill.

You remember seeing those late-night infomercials a couple of years back, pushing that blue heart-shaped pill. They call it 'Love' because of the 'L0-V3' stamped on it. Basically it's like Viagra, but it's mixed with a very low dose of THC. They advertise that it does more than just keep things up. 'Guaranteed to give you the ultimate pleasure,' they say.

Jisung shrugs, watching you with a miserable expression. “I was curious if it would make masturbating feel different, better maybe? I mean it did the first 6 times. Wah! The orgasms were fucking mind blowing y/n.” He smiles and chuckles.

"Ji, oh my god! Ugh, have mercy on my ears bro." Both of you burst into laughter, but then you notice Ji wincing in pain. Your mood quickly shifts from playful to genuine concern.

"It hurts that much?" you ask, feeling awful that he's so uncomfortable.

He nods weakly, “It's not even just my dick but my balls feel so fuckin’ heavy. Like they're literally going to rip from my body.”

You cringe inwardly, fingers pressing into your ears as he launches into yet another one of his oversharing moments. His lack of filter has always been a trademark of his, but that's just Jisung being Jisung. After being friends since grade five, it's like he's incapable of holding back anything with you. You remember the day he lost his virginity, he texted you literally right after. His excitement was evident even through the phone. As a joke you got him a cake in the shape of the letter ‘V’. That was in highschool and his habit of sharing way too much is still going strong in your twenties. Only difference is this time his oversharing is doing things to you.

The dampness between your thighs, well, that's just gotta be a coincidence, right? I mean, it's not like the sight of your long time buddy sporting a hard-on is doing anything for you. It's more than likely just the frustration of being on a three-year dry spell. Yeah, that's gotta be it. It's definitely because you haven't been fucked in a long time and not Jisung himself. You give your head a shake, dropping your hands from your ears with a wry smirk.

"Ji, we've really gotta do something… before it gets worse. You don't want it to fall off." You tell him jokingly, trying to keep the mood light but you're feeling worried all over again.

"Yeah, yeah I know. You're right, but what are we supposed to do? I've tried everything, even beatin' it 11 times, and still no luck.” He says, sounding so casual about his masturbatory activities.

You let out an embarrassed groan and fall back dramatically onto the floor, while Jisung lets out a pitiful whine. You grab your phone and start searching for home remedies but after an hour of scrolling, you're still at square one. Not a single remedy seems feasible. Leeches? Nah, no way. As if either of you would go near those slimy things. And some tea from a self-proclaimed witch sounds sketchy as hell. Plus, she's halfway across the globe. It would take forever to get here, if it even would. Jisung hasn't had any luck either. Every twenty minutes You hear him curse under his breath and run his hands through his hair. You two are running out of options, and as time passes, you start to feel more and more useless.

"Y/n," Jisung whispers your name after another forty minutes of searching, his voice hesitant.

You look up at him, doe eyed and innocently chewing your lip. “Hm? What's up, Hannie? Did you find something?” With a strained grunt he nods in response looking at you intensely.

“Fuck, shit.” He mutters under his breath, almost like he's talking to himself. “My dick... It won't go down without…”

“Ji what is it? You're freaking me out. Without what?” You scramble up onto your knees and crawl over to the bed, inching closer to him, eyes full of concern.

Jisung looks like he's in absolute agony watching you crawl over to him. His emotions are all over the place, you can practically feel the tension radiating off of him when you reach the bed. His eyes are like flames, burning far too hot when he looks at you. You can see the struggle written all over his face like he's fighting with himself.

“Y/n, you're making it harder,” Jisung breathes out, his voice husky and balling his hands into fists as he tries to keep his composure.

You sit beside him scrunching up your face and like the good friend that you are, you place a comforting hand on his knee. Jisung's breath catches in his throat and a flush creeps up his neck when you touch him making him suddenly feel lightheaded.

"What do you mean 'making it harder'? I'm here trying to help you, remember?” You say, your voice soft and tinged with hurt. The pain in your voice and eyes catches him off guard. He's stammering, suddenly aware of how his words might've come out wrong.

He didn't mean for it to sound bad. You're the last person he'd ever want to hurt. But today, everything you do just seems to set him off. He's been trying so damn hard to push his feelings aside. But it's like having you in his room, despite you being here a million times before, it's messing with his head. He can't think straight. You've always been stunning to him, and yeah, maybe he's entertained some inappropriate thoughts about you in the past, but that was only once. Maybe it's the pill messing with his head but you’re making it impossible for him to focus on anything but you.

“N- no I mean, I’m grateful you're here, really love. You're the only one who can help me. I just mean… you're making it harder. Ya know?” He stammers, licking his lips nervously. He nods down once looking down at his lap before back at you and bites his lip feeling embarrassed. Your eyes flick down to his shorts and go wide when you understand.

"What? How?!" You glance down at your outfit. His black hoodie with the paint splatters that you borrowed a few days ago, paired with simple black leggings. Nothing revealing, yet you're somehow making his cock even harder than it already was.

"You're over there moaning and then you start crawling towards me on all fours. I mean, come on, how could anyone not get turned on by that? Shit!" He chuckles nervously, feeling his heart racing. He hides his face in his hands, laughing, and murmurs something when you giggle.

"You're such a perv, Ji." You tease, still chuckling as you playfully pry his hands away from his face. "Now try that again. I'm not fluent in mumbles, sorry.”

“I said… I just read that it won't go down without intercourse. Bro, I don't exactly have a girlfriend. I'm so fucked.” He sighs, sounding completely defeated.

Your smile falters when you see just how miserable he looks. It's been a while since he was last in a relationship, that was true. Probably a little longer than you, about four years now. His last one ended when she demanded he choose between you and her. She couldn't stand the fact that you would spend the night in the spare bedroom where Jisung, Chan, and Changbin recorded their music, dreaming of making it big someday. Jisung ended things with her on the spot; he wouldn't be with someone who couldn't accept his friends. Apparently she had issues with Minho too, which was probably what really did it for him. But somehow, you can't shake off the feeling that their breakup was somehow your fault, that his single status is on your shoulders.

“I'm sorry Hannie. We'll um, we can figure something out.” You reassure him, innocently rubbing his knee.

Without thinking much, your fingers gently glide over his skin comfortingly, feeling the tenseness in his muscles. He's so stressed. It breaks your heart seeing him like this. You don't know what to do right now other than offer him comfort. There are no answers or solutions that you can think of to give him. All you can do is show him that you're in it together as always. You start rambling on about how you two are both probably freaking out for no reason and that everything will be fine soon. But as your fingers continue to move in innocent slow circles, Jisung starts shifting. It goes unnoticeable by you so you keep talking. It's all nonsense really, delving into something completely random and off topic in an attempt to distract him from the issue at hand, only Jisung isn't processing a single word you've said. He's far too focused on your hand.

The moment your hand landed on his knee he prayed you wouldn't move it, he prayed you would. He tried so hard to focus on anything other than the heat and softness of your hand on his bare skin. It's too much though and his mind starts to quickly wander. He freezes and tries to focus on your voice but it's impossible. Jisung can't stop the thoughts that his mind creates or the images that begin to come into focus. He's imagining your hand sliding up his thigh until it's slipping under his shorts. He can almost feel it happening, his sudden daydream becoming so vivid. In his mind's eye he can see you take him into your hands, feel you stroking him until he's a mess and spilling all over your fingers. He's fighting his demons and you're oblivious to it all. You just continue to talk all while the sensation of your hand is driving him up the wall. He can feel the sudden familiar tightening in his balls and he panics. He can't get control of his body, not with the drug still in his system.

His hand quickly comes down covering yours, stopping the gentle caress to his knee. His intense brown eyes look darker when they stare into yours. His lips slightly part and his breath starts coming out in uneven quiet bursts. The warmth of his hand seems to grow hotter, becoming slightly sweaty against yours and your heart starts pounding in your chest. You feel the subtle shift in his body beneath your touch and his legs tense up as he lets out a soft, involuntary grunt. Jisung's gaze burns into yours with an undeniable intensity that makes air feel thick and your cunt slick.

Is he about to?

You glance down at his shorts and his cock pulsates underneath. You stop breathing when realization hits you. He’s going to cum, right here, right now, all while holding your hand and looking at you. He's leaking so much precum it's noticeable even in the black fabric. A wicked scene flashes through your mind, of you sinking to your knees to taste him, taking his fully clothed cock into your mouth.

"Ah, shit! Mm!" Jisung's moans slip out and his breathing escalates as he starts to tremble all over. "Y/n," he pants out. Your name rolling off his tongue, making your whole body flush as his orgasm quickly builds, like you're the cause of it. "I... oh, shit. I'm... sorry, fuck. I can't... Help it. I'm cumming. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck!”

His grip on your hand tightens and he takes a deep breath before letting out a long low moan. You're left speechless, eyes fixed on Jisung's face as he cums in his pants. His hips move instinctively upwards, as if he's fucking some unseen entity and you can't help but find it incredibly hot. It's possibly the sexiest thing you've ever witnessed and now you're more turned on than you were to before.

His orgasm hits him hard, and you can feel his muscles tighten when he lets go. Warmth spreads through your body and it's impossible not to miss the way his release seeps through his dark shorts. The fabric quickly becomes wetter as his seed flows out in thick, white strings. His cock, still concealed and hard beneath the dampness, slows its wild twitching and stills.

“God, I'm sorry y/n. I don't know what came over me. Your hand... It felt incredible and it just happened. It was like the pill ramped up the feeling.” He apologizes, letting go of your hand. His heavy breathing slows and cheeks flush with a mixture of arousal and shame.

“It's ok Ji, I understand. You don't have to apologize. I wasn't thinking. I'll uh, get you a change of shorts.” You start to get up and head towards his dresser but he catches your wrist. He looks up at you with those brown sugar boba eyes of his making you shift.

“Tell me what you're thinking, y/n. Please? I'm going crazy thinking I'm weirding you out. Be honest with me please, lovely. Please?” He pleads with you.

You sigh and sit back down beside him and almost moan when the seam of your leggings rub against you. Seeing Jisung cum right in front of you, has your body feeling ultra sensitive. You're so on edge as if you've taken an enhancement pill yourself.

"I'm not weirded out, trust me," You confess, your voice low and filled with something more that you try to hide from him and yourself.

"Then how do you feel? You've gone quiet on me." Jisung probes, daring you to reveal your feelings.

“I feel fine Ji.” You say and look at his closet door. It's wide open and his clothes are all over the place inside like a tornado went through it.

“Bullshit y/n. I can tell when you're lying. You never look at me when you lie.”

Sighing you look him in the eyes and your mouth suddenly goes dry. He's not going to let this go until you fess up to him. He'll drill you with questions until you crack and that will probably make things more awkward than it already is. You don't really have a choice but to be transparent with him like you normally are.

“I'm,” You start, only for your words to trail off into a mumble.

“What was it you said earlier y/n? I'm not fluent in mumble?" He smirks, feeling so damn proud of himself and you roll your eyes.

“Ugh, fine. Fine, okay. I'm… horny. There, satisfied?” You admit red in the face. You look away fiddling with the sleeve of Jisung's hoodie.

"What else?" His voice, steady and resolute.

Your head spins back to him, caught off guard. "What else?" you echo loudly in shock. "Isn't all that enough?" He shakes his head, a smirk playing on his lips, as if he knows something you don't.

"Nah, not when I can feel you holding back," Jisung teases, leaning closer. "We're always so open with each other, but right now, there's something you're not saying."

“I…” You let out a defeated and frustrated sigh. “You turned me on.” You whisper. “The sight of you cumming. The look on your face, that fucking moan, Jisung. The way your cock bobbed from inside your shorts when you… damn it. It fucking made me wet. I've been wet since I walked in here!” You're practically yelling now, breathing heavily after releasing all your pent up feelings and he just smiles and chuckles.

“That wasn't so hard was it?

“Yes,” You say with a huff. “Yes, that actually was pretty damn hard.” You go to cover your face but he stops you.

“Don't be embarrassed, sweetie. I think that's a normal reaction. Sorta like watching porn.” He replies, chuckling.

“I suppose… but it doesn't really help your situation though.” You say feeling mortified.

The room goes quiet for a minute, the pair of you at a loss for words until Jisung breaks the silence.

“Maybe it can?”

You give him a look, raising an eyebrow in his direction. His cheeks flush and he raises his hands in a surrender gesture, palms facing outward, “Hear me out. It doesn't have to be weird. We'd just be helping each other out. You wouldn't be horny anymore and I wouldn't be hard and in pain. You're my only hope.”

“Are you suggesting that you and I… fuck?” You ask gesturing between you both. He groans in half pain, half pleasure at your words and your face heats again matching the blush on his cheeks.

“Please? Please let me fuck you y/n. Shit I know we're friends, it won't mean anything. You'd be literally saving my life. It's torture being like this. Every twitch, every movement I make… it fucking hurts like hell.” He begs, sounding desperate.

Jisung's question hangs in the air and you find yourself unable to respond. Silence ticks on for only a few seconds but to Jisung it feels like an hour. He runs his hands through his hair in frustration and huffs.

"Fine, then," he grumbles, breaking the silence again. "Can you at least help me get into your car so we can go to the hospital then?" His voice is rough, but there's an underlying vulnerability to it.

Still you stay quiet, his pleas echoing loudly in your mind. He's begging for your help and you can't speak. You're torn between wanting to be there for him and the fear of the aftermath. It's never a good idea to sleep with a friend. God, how many times have there been movies portraying that, only for it to go wrong? Too many, that's the answer. You're already feeling things that you wish you weren't. This could ruin your friendship with Jisung. This isn't just a peck on the lips. You'll be far closer and far more intimate than you two have ever been. So your hesitation is valid but Jisung is losing his mind and panicking more than you are right now.

“What the fuck y/n? Are you really ignoring me right now? Look, I'm sorry I asked. Just forget it and hel-”

"Promise me," You cut him off, "Promise me that we'll pretend like it never happened."

"Absolutely, yes. I promise!" he agrees eagerly, his face lighting up as he reaches for the drawer in his bedside dresser.

Curious, you watch as he rummages through the drawer's content. "What are you up to now?" you ask, sounding amused despite the fact that the little voice in your head is screaming at you.

"Looking for a condom," he replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes when he looks over at you.

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Dude, even if you find one, it's probably expired or dried up. When was the last time you got some ass?"

"Oh yeah right, good point—wait! It hasn't been that long!" He whines.

Laughing, you playfully cover your mouth. "Uh huh, sure. Besides, you gave your last one to Chan a while ago, remember?"

“Shit, you're right. Now what?” He pouts looking disappointed.

“Just raw I guess. Don't really have a choice. We both know we're clean and I'm on the pill.” You shrug nonchalantly like the idea is whatever to you but your heart is beating a thousand beats per second and you're internally freaking out.

Jisung swallows hard, looking nervous in your direction. “You uh, you sure?”

“Yeah let's just do it before Bin and Chan get back. Shit would be really awkward if they caught us.” Your voice betrays your false confidence, shaking as nerves wrack your body.

“Yeah, good point” He replies with a nod, suddenly looking serious.

This is serious to him. This isn't exactly how he envisioned his weekend starting. Jisung's heart pounds hard, his palms sweating as he stares at you. Amidst the anxiety he's feeling about this, he's oddly happy. He feels lucky knowing you’re here willing to cross boundaries for him. Not everyone would do something like this for a friend, but you're different. You always have his back no matter what crazy mess Jisung finds himself in.

Despite the fucked-upness of it all, Jisung can't deny the excited flutter in his stomach. The thought of having sex with a friend is enough to give anyone major anxiety but he's surprised how well you both are dealing with it. Still, fear sits at the back of his mind. What if this changes everything? What if it ruins your friendship? This is a big deal. He's seen it play out in movies and dramas all the time and not once had it turned out well. He doesn't have a lot of options though. You're quite literally his only hope like he told you.

Jisung gets up carefully, giving you full access to his bed and watches you as you strip down to nothing. Embarrassment fills you as his mouth hangs open, in complete fascination and awe. He thinks you're unstoppable, the way you're confidently undressing like that. He doesn't know you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. His eyes find your breast and he mentally marvels over how hard your nipples are. He suddenly wants nothing more than to slip the peaks into his mouth and bite down on them until they're red and you're squirming under him. Your cunt calls to him like a siren, just as pretty and just as wet. His fingers itch to trace the contours of your body, to feel your skin beneath his touch. Every inch of you seems to call out to him.

Jisung shifts uncomfortably, clearing his throat as he glances towards the door. "Um, so about the lights... Do you have a preference?”

"You decide, Ji.” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, leaning back into his sheets on your forearms.

With a nod, he walks over to the door and locks it before reaching to switch off the light, enveloping the room in darkness. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. The sun had long since disappeared, hours slipping away unnoticed in trying to find a way to help your friend. A second later, the white walls covered in music memorabilia and anime posters, glow crimson from the light of the LED Akatsuki cloud lamp you gifted him for Christmas.

“There we go.” He says lightly, his voice barely audible over the sound of your heart.

Jisung's trying his best to put you at ease, and you're grateful for it, even if it's not working. You're lying there, heart pounding like a drum, with the soft red glow of his bedroom casting shadows all around. Your breath hitches, nerves tingling as you steal a glance at him by the bedside. Your fingers toy with the sheets' edge and butterflies dance wildly in your stomach. This is risky, but you're only doing it to help him out, right? Nothing more. Yet, there's something brewing beneath the surface, something you're both feeling but haven't quite put into words or even thoughts. Not right now at least.

Jisung casually strips off his tank and tosses it onto his computer chair, standing over you. Even though you've seen him shirtless a million times, it feels different this time. Probably because the setting is more intimate. You can't help but admire the way his muscles are defined, how they seem to mold perfectly to his body. Every contour, every line, down to his slender waist, captivates you. Then, as he lowers his shorts, you find yourself holding your breath, unable to look away. He's got to be a good seven inches you think. Slightly curving upwards, angry and red with the veins ridiculously prominent. You don't even stop yourself from fantasizing about how he'd feel on your tongue. The temptation to reach out and touch him is almost overwhelming, but you hold back, afraid of what it might mean.

“Do you think you can take all of me y/n?” He asks curiously and you look up at him.

His features soften in the dim light. He looks so vulnerable, so unlike the confident guy you're used to seeing. It tugs at your heart, stirring up a mix of emotions you can't quite begin to untangle.

His question, It's not a cocky one. In fact he sounds a little bit self conscious, worried even. Like he's afraid of hurting you or causing you discomfort. As much as you try to not think of him as your best friend right now as a means of psyching yourself out, you can't. He's your sweet Hannie, he's the talented genius J.One, a rap name he created when he was 16. He's your Sungie, who sat with you when you were the new kid in middle school. He needs you… needs your help. What kind of friend would turn away from a friend in need?

"I can handle it, don't worry about me, Ji. Let's just get you back to normal, okay?" You reach out your hand towards him with a subtle tremble exposing your nervousness.

"Yeah, okay, lovely. Just... let me know if you want to stop, okay? Promise?” Jisung exhales, his breath jittery with nerves waiting for your response.

“I promise. Now just relax and fuck me.” You whisper.

“Fuck. Yeah, okay.”

He moves closer to you, placing his hand in yours, and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot through you. The worries and hesitations you had vanish, replaced by a strong need to take care of this for him, to ease his pain. You feel the heat emanating from his body as he positions himself between your legs, gazing down at you with wide eyes.

He chews on his bottom lip and wraps his hand around the base of his cock with a hiss. He's still sensitive from the pain and his recent orgasm but he lines himself up with the entrance to your core, noticing how your arousal glistens in the red lights.

“Do you normally get this wet y/n?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious tilting his head to one side.

You hide your face with your hands, inhaling deeply. It's like you're a virgin all over again and this is your first time. You're nervous out of your mind and he's asking you a question like that. He's just curious, sure, but... he's Jisung... Your pulse pounds in your ears, and you slowly lower your hands. His eyes meet yours, and you can see everything you're feeling reflected in them.

You swallow hard, “Honestly, no. I've never been this wet, Jisung. Not even for myself.” You tell him, keeping eye contact so he knows you aren't lying.

“Fuck, that's hot.” He whispers. His cock twitches and rubs along your folds. “Ah, shit.” He winces and moans at the contact, feeling his cock stiffen even more beyond his belief.

Your body jerks at the unexpected touch, causing you to inhale sharply. His fingers lightly graze the curve of your waist, as if he's afraid you might vanish at any moment. His eyes, intense and penetrating, hold yours captive and heat pools low in your belly. Jisung's touch sends a shiver all over your body when his fingertips slowly begin tracing delicate patterns on your skin. Suddenly it's hard to deny just how bad you want him.

“Han Jisung if you don't stop stalling and just fuck me, I'm getting dressed and calling Chan.” Your breath comes out in short, shallow gasps. That brush against you was too much and not enough. You want him. God, you want him so bad it's almost painful.

“Okay, okay sorry. I'm just nervous. Fuck, I feel like a virgin all over again.” He says voicing your earlier thoughts out loud, making you both laugh loudly.

It feels almost normal. Like you're not about to let sleep with your long time friend. Like he's just above you now because you were wrestling for the remote. But after the laughter subsides, Jisung gathers up his courage and pushes the tip of his cock inside you without any restrictions. You're so wet that he slides right in. You both let out a moan, the sound echoing off the walls of his room, enveloping you in an intimate bubble. In the dim light, the boundary between friendship and something more blurs, and you find yourself swept away by the growing need. Jisung can feel his heart beating harder in his chest as he loses himself to the sweet feeling of you around the tip of him. A growing need intensifies within him with every passing second. He's got just the head in and he wants to slam into and cum right now.

"More. Keep going," you whisper, your voice quiet and dripping with lust. He bites down hard and complies slightly hesitating. Slowly he pushes further inside of you.

Your fingers tremble as they brush against his arms as he steadily inch by inch presses forward getting deeper, drawing moans out of you that could be heard from Pluto. It takes all of Jisung's focus to slide his entire length into you. He didn't want to cum just from sticking the tip in. But with each thrust into your eager pussy, brings him closer to bursting inside you.

"Fuck.” He breathes out as he fully sinks into you, his hand laying over your stomach gently. With a soft sigh, he leans in, resting his other hand beside your head. You feel incredible and he's reminded of the only moment he fantasized about you. A distant memory flooding back, something he tried to push away ages ago.

You tagged along with him, Chan, and Binnie for a vacation to the beach one scorching summer. He couldn't help but notice the way you looked in that red bikini with the guitar pick pattern. The way it barely covered your tits and ass. The sight made him feel insane. He was thinking things about you that he hadn't ever before. He used the fact that he couldn't swim just to sit in the sand, secretly enjoying the sight of you splashing around in the water. Every splash, every droplet clinging to your skin, it was like a fantasy playing out before his eyes. He imagined plowing into you from behind in the shower, your breast pressed against the shower tiles as you took all of him. Every detail was vivid and intense in his mind. That night, while you peacefully slept beside him in the hotel room you shared, he couldn't shake the images from his mind. Unable to sleep due to the ache in his cock, he pumped himself into his fist while thoughts of you consumed his mind. Guilt filled him but he pushed it aside, chalking it up to normal hormonal desires. It had been years since he even had those thoughts, until now.

Now he's buried deep inside you, all because of a dumb decision to try those enhancement pills. All because he wanted a mind-blowing, toe curling, orgasm. But deep down, he's kinda grateful for messing up. With you beneath him, he can fuck you instead of his hand. It's been too long since he's fucked anyone. He wants to savor this moment, take his time feeling your walls flutter around him since this won't happen again. As the urge to cum fades, he eases out of you, leaving just the head of his cock inside and begins moving again, slowly, teasingly, watching your reaction with his mouth slightly agape. Slowly, he rocks in and out, feeling your tightness gripping him in a way he's never experienced before. It’s better than anything he's felt with his exes. He's in awe of how amazing you make him feel. With a forceful thrust, he drives himself deeper into you, pausing when you cry out in pleasure.

"Damn it, y/n, you feel amazing. Fuck, so good.” he murmured, his voice a low, husky whisper. “Can I... Can I go faster? Please, tell me I can fuck you faster, baby. Let me make you feel even better." He begs, grunting softly and shifting his hips in a slow, teasing rhythm, forcing a needy whimper from you.

You bite your lip, a rush of pleasure flooding your body as you nod in response, too overwhelmed to speak. Your breath hitches, coming in rapid gasps, and your legs tremble around him.

“Thank you, fuck.” He withdraws with a sharp pull, then eases back in hard, making you cry out. “Stop me if I'm too rough, baby. You gotta tell me sweetie. Can you do that?”

You nod, but that's not quite what he wants. Jisung wants to hear you, no, needs to hear you. His hand moves, brushing against your skin until he finds your nipple, teasingly taking it between his fingers. Your breath catches as he pinches it gently and rolls it slowly between his thumb and index finger. He feels your body react, your walls tightening around him when you whimper softly.

"Oh!" You gasp, unable to control that blissful feeling of pleasure that runs through you. He does it again, a little harder this time. The corner of his mouth lifts into a cocky grin when you arch your back.

“Yes Ji! Fuck, I'll tell you.” Your eyes close and you grip the blankets on the bed in tight hands.

“Thank you y/n. God you're the fucking, mm! You're the best. Knew only you could help me. I knew you'd take care of me.” Jisung whispers, gripping the sheets by your head tight, his fingers curling around the fabric and sliding himself back into you. The bed creaks beneath you, echoing his movements as he fucks you harder. “Knew you'd make me feel good,” He murmurs, his voice thick with sex. "Tell me, y/n, does that feel good? Does my y/n feel good because of me? Tell me baby.”

Does he always talk like this with everyone he's been with before? You wonder and you realize he's way more experienced than you imagined. The thought makes you jealous but the feeling doesn't last. Each push of his cock inside of you pushes that green eyed demon out of your mind.

His voice, smooth like honey, drips with sweetness, coating you with each word he utters. The way he speaks to you only makes you wetter and you're craving him more. He's not holding back anymore, lost in the moment where all that matters is pleasure. Yours, his… you both need more. He's not waiting for a response; he knows you're speechless, your words stuck in your throat, your silence speaking volumes. With one hand supporting himself, he cups your breast, teasing and massaging the flesh, making you squirm under him before taking your nipple into his mouth. A low, guttural moan escapes him, reverberating through you body. You moan passionately, feeling the heat of his tongue against your skin. When he gently bites the hard peaks of your nipple your body arches into him and your left hand cradles his head.

Jisung inhales deeply, and your scent envelops him, drawing him in with its intoxicating allure. "Damn, you smell so good," Jisung murmurs, a soft smile playing on his lips and his heart literally skips a beat in his chest.

He swore nothing would change, but his heart rebels against that weak promise. Every day, he'll crave you more. Every glance, every touch will only intensify the want for you. The need to have you will only grow stronger. Your hands are all over him now, leaving invisible imprints that seem to penetrate straight to his heart. He finds himself addicted to your nails grazing his skin, the way your fingers weave through his hair, pulling him in closer to you with each tug.

Feeling his body pressing against yours, every movement sends waves of pleasure through you. Your hips respond to him, moving in sync and the sensation of his cock against your sweet spot makes you gasp softly. With each grind, the warmth grows blazing inside you. Jisung pauses, his lips leaving your nipple, and gazes down at you, his tousled hair framing his face in a way that makes him look irresistible in this moment. There's a silent shift between you that makes it harder to breathe.

"Close, aren't you, y/n?" he pants, a teasing grin playing on his lips. Something inside you explodes and a surge of electricity courses through you. It's not just the impending climax that has your insides uncoiling; but from that look he gives you. It's overwhelming in the best way possible. You feel like you're free falling through the clouds.

"Almost, Ji. So close," You breathe out softly.

"Yeah, baby, me too," He murmurs, his words laced with urgency. “I need you to come first. I'm gonna pull out." You shake your head and cling to him tighter, not wanting him to stop.

"Cum inside me, Sungie. Just keep going. Harder, Ji. Right there. Fuck!" Your voice grows louder with each word.

"Are you sure, y/n?" he asks, and when you nod, he grins at you. "Gonna give you all of me, baby. Fill you up real good. Gonna make a mess." He trails off with a soft curse. "Fuck, you're so beautiful," he adds, his voice becoming more raw, his desire evident in every breath. "You feel so good, y/n. So fucking good."

Jisung's hips buck wildly, thrusting faster and you scream his name, pleading with him to not stop, to not hold back, to fill you up. He's trembling, his breath coming out in ragged grunts as he pounds his cock into you, driving deeper with every thrust. Your body tenses up, and you manage to gasp out that you're about to cum just before it hits you like a tidal wave. And when it hits, fuck, it's like fireworks go off behind your eyelids. The most explosive sensation you've ever experienced.

“Gah, y/n! keep cumming, just like that. Y/n, you're gonna make me cum. So tight. Yeah, keep squeezing me with your pussy. I'm gonna cum. Oh, fuck, oh fuck, I'm cumming baby." He moans, his voice strained with pleasure.

You feel it deep when Jisung cums. It jets out in spurts forcefully, filling you and the sensation rips another unexpected orgasm from you. His thrusts slows to a gentle pace, guiding you through the aftershocks of your orgasm until your muscles relax around him. With a shudder, he finally stills, collapsing onto you panting, his weight supported by his forearms. Cupping your face in his hand, he looks down at you with a mix of satisfaction and longing in his eyes that makes you feel indescribable.

Your soft moans and the way you're clinging on to him, gives him a different sort of pleasure. Just knowing he's the one making you feel good, is a heady feeling, one that makes him want to hold onto this moment longer. But it's done and over now and he feels disappointed that such an amazing feeling, like being nestled inside of you, won't happen again.

Jisung's heart is pounding in his chest as he moves his face closer to you. His impulses taking over, "Can I kiss you?" he breathes out, voice shaky looking down at you.

You give a hesitant nod, feeling suddenly shy despite what just happened between you two, and he leans in to press his lips against yours. It's gentle, soft, sweeter than you expected. He doesn't use his tongue, unsure if you'd even want him to but he couldn't resist the urge to kiss you. The way you looked up at him, so pretty with those heavy lids and his cum dripping out of you… he just had to taste your lips, just once.

When he goes to pull away, you grab onto him, pulling him back and deepening the kiss. Your lips part, inviting him to explore you with his tongue, which he eagerly does. Your muscles tighten, and you realize his cock, which had been softening earlier, is now growing harder inside you. You gasp, intending to let him know it worked but before you can, he starts moving again and your gasp turns into moaning. There's no need for you two to keep having sex now that his erection can go away but you don't stop him. This time it's not just about relieving his pain or a means to an end, it's about something more. You both feel it, the change that he promised wouldn't happen, only you don't seem to care. No, you encourage Jisung to keep moving, to go deeper. You part your legs for him even more, letting him have all of you and surrender to the feelings pulsing through your body. It's all so new, these intense emotions you've developed for him.

Jisung's movements are slow and deliberate, each thrust unhurried. His cock slips out leisurely only to ease back in, a rhythm that makes you ache for more. More speed, more friction, more everything. You want to beg him to move faster, but the intensity of his stare leaves you feeling tongue-tied. In this moment, you're the epitome of beauty to him. Your unfocused gaze, your neediness, it's all so intoxicating, urging Jisung to continue his languid movements. He watches as your eyes struggle to focus, blinking several times before locking onto him once more and he loves it. It's as if each blink only deepens the desire he has for you.

He’s amazed that you're letting him continue to fuck you, even though there's no real reason to keep going. But damn, your body has him hooked already. You're spoiling him for any other girl he might end up with, unless... No, he won't let himself go there. He can't think of you as his, not after the promise he made. Still, he craves more of you in every possible way. Jisung's body trembles as he enters you, feeling your muscles tighten around him, and it brings a grin to his face knowing he can coax another orgasm out of you. He wonders how many can say they were able to make you cum multiple times. Did they take care of you like him? He thinks cockily. With a grunt that mingles with your soft moans, he thrusts harder, pushing deeper into you, feeling the tightness around his cock. It's a rhythm of in and out, urging his cock deeper, with nowhere to go.

Did any of your past hookups take their time like this? Fucking you nice and slow, or were they all just in it for a quick nut? Not Jisung, though. He could never, would never just fuck you for his own satisfaction. Your pleasure matters to him. It's what does it for him. He gets off on seeing you lose control because of him, on making you feel good. He doesn't even need to be buried deep inside your cunt to cum. He'd cum in his pants again fingering you or while you rode his face. Just the thought of you cumming on his face is enough to make him explode right now. The sounds you make, your touch, they're his undoing. That's why he came so hard earlier when all you did was caress his knee. He knows that now.

He's finding it impossible to hold back anymore, despite wanting you to cum first. He can't though, not when you gently place your hand on his cheek. That simple touch pushes him over the edge, and he pours himself into you with a raw moan, unable to control himself any longer. His legs shake, his toes curl, and he experiences an intense orgasm, far beyond what he had hoped the pill would give him. But it's not the pill—it's you. He knows it's you.

Watching Jisung cum inside you for the second time, you feel yourself reaching your own orgasm. With soft gasps, your cunt shudders around him. The look on Jisung's face when he cums is easily becoming addicting to you now. You could probably cum just by that look alone. It's like he's lost in the moment, completely taken over by pleasure. His face scrunches up, brows knitting together, round cheeks puffing out with each deep exhale.

You both lie there catching your breaths, quiet and completely still. His cock's still buried inside you, keeping you close. Your eyes lock, taking in every little detail of each other's faces while you both catch your breath. He could stay like this forever, your pussy snug around his cock, and he would've. Only if the sudden sound of the front door swinging open and Changbin shouting about pizza didn't burst that private bubble. It startles you both. So much so that Jisung jerks out of you with a loud pop and scrambling to his feet, making you squeal in surprise.

"Shit, do you think they heard that, Ji?" you whisper hastily pulling his sheets over your body. He shoots you a glance from across the room, a grin spreading across his face. He loves that post sex afterglow radiating from you. You've never looked hotter than you do right now, all sprawled out and naked in his bed.

“Nah, I think we're okay for now. They might just think we're taking a nap like we usually do after binge watching something.” He tells you. “We should probably get dressed in case though.” You nod and when you go to get out of the bed, he stops you. “Wait, lay back. It's my mess, let me clean it up. It's the least I can do for you.”

"Alright..." you murmur, settling back onto the bed with the blanket draped over your chest, your legs parting invitingly for Jisung. Your eyes drift to the ceiling, as you await his touch, but he hesitates. "Ji, what's—"

Your words catch in your throat as you feel the brush of his hair against your thighs and his mouth on you. "Oh, God, Ji. Fuck, that's not what I had in mind," You gasp out just as he flicks his tongue over your clit.

He glances up at you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, his lips glistening with a mixture of your shared juices. "Do you want me to stop, baby? I've got the towel right here," he offers, his tone teasing.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, pleasure pooling low in your belly. "No, don't stop," you urge softly, your voice laced with need. "Keep going. Please.”

You collapse onto the bed, feeling his head sink between your thighs. His lips and teeth graze your inner thigh, and you bite the sheets that are tightly balled up in your hands, trying to stifle any noises that might alert Chan and Changbin. When Jisung plunges his hot tongue inside of you, eating his cum and yours from your cunt like it's a five star gourmet meal, you almost let out the most pornographic sounding moan from the twirling motion of his tongue. You grab a pillow with quick hands covering your mouth so that it muffles your moans and cries.

He makes quick work in giving you another orgasm with that wicked tongue of his. You would've gladly returned the favor too if he didn't already cum in the towel that was supposed to be used for you. His mouth stayed locked on your clit while he moaned and pumped his cock into the towel. The vibration of his lips making you forget all about that thing you keep stashed in your bedside drawer at home. Yeah, Jisung eating your pussy like he was starving definitely didn't need to happen either but you're not complaining.

After getting dressed and making sure Chan and Changbin wouldn't notice anything odd, you and Jisung joined the duo and settled in for pizza, beer, and a movie. The TV casts a soft glow as some suspenseful action movie plays, but your mind is elsewhere, lost in a different kind of fantasy world. It's like your minds are synced, both drifting away from the movie. You and Jisung steal glances at each other in the dark living room, only to quickly look away.

Countless times he's caught you looking back in the direction of his room with a blush on your cheeks. He's hard just knowing that you're thinking about what happened and he wonders if you can still feel him like he can feel you. He just wants to say fuck the movie, to grab you by your wrist and drag you back to his room and fuck you again. He was actually worried that you would go through with the promise of pretending like sleeping together didn't happen but sometimes, in this case anyway, promises can be broken.