#I hope this works for you! and if not let me know!

[harrysfolklore]

i need a lando x brazilian!reader for sao paulo gp!!

persistence - ln4

summary: lando has the biggest crush on a brazilian model and he won’t give up until she gives him a chance

folkie radio: HAPPY LANDO DAY !! for some reason, my lando fics are always my least fave but i needed to post something for his bdayyyy, i hope you like this

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by landonorris, sabrinacarpenter and 748,296 others

yourinstagram i ❤️ LA

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username1 THE FACE CARDDD

username2 if i looked like that i wouldn’t let anyone give me crap

username3 IT GIRL

alexademie Loved seeing you 😍

username4 brazilian women >>>

iamrebeccad 😍

username5 WHAT IS LANDO NORRIS DOING IN THE LIKES 😭

username6 lando i see you what are you up to

carlossainz55 Hermosa !

↳ username1 sometimes i forget she’s actually friends with carlos

↳ username2 ouuu maybe this is why lando is in the likes

↳ yourinstagram miss you carlitosss

madisonbeer pelase come more often loml 💘

↳ yourinstagram you should comento brazil miss!

username7 LINDA

username8 can’t believe we’re from the same country but i don’t look like this

alexandrasaintmleux ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 you beautyyy

↳ username2 IT GIRLS FR

landonorris Pretty girl 😍

↳ username1 LANDO HELLO?

↳ username2 HES SO BOLD

↳ username3 yn not even replying 😭

liked by carlossainz55, alex_albon and 1,027,638 others

landonorris memories from my last time in brazil 📸

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username1 LANDOOOO

username2 HELLO SIR WTF

username3 what was the reason for this thirst trap NOT COMPLAINING THO 😭

charles_leclerc Who let the dogs out?

↳ username1 HELP MEEEEE

username4 lando norris what are you up to

username5 I WANT TO LICK HIM

mclaren Good start of the week 🙌

username6 confess lando who are you trying to charm

username7 HES SUCH A MAN

danielricciardo I’m looking respectfully

↳ username2 HE GETS IT

username8 lando posting a thirst trap from BRAZIL and not so randomly commenting on a brazilian model’s post LANDO I SEE WHAT YOU DO

carlossainz55 😂😂😂

username9 BE SERIOUS

f1gossip We’ll get to the bottom of this 👀

username10 i need to know how his brain works

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texts between carlos and lando

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yourinstagram has added to their stories

landonorris sent you a message request

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liked by landonorris, lilyrosedepp and 798,499 others

yourinstagram somebody come get this man… i think he got lost in my dms

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username1 IT GIRL

username2 how bad i wish i was her

username3 the amount of random celebs that probably slide into her dms 😭

lizzobeeating those lyrics 🤌🤌

username4 SPILL DEETS

username5 expose them bestie expose them

sabrinacarpenter i’m still laughing

↳ brunamarquezine me too

↳ yourinstagram we all 🤫

username6 i need her bandana asap

username7 MESSY QUEEN

alexandrasaintmleux 😍😍 my style inspo !

↳ yourinstagram miss YOU are my style inspo we need to meet asap ❤️‍🔥

↳ username1 AHHH THIS CROSSOVER

carlossainz55 Forgive him… he’s just a boy

↳ iamrebeccad 😂😂

↳ username2 HUH WHATS THIS ABOUT???

↳ yourinstagram keep him humble carlitos

landonorris stunning 🤤

↳ username1 NOT THIS AGAIN

↳ username2 plot twist hes the man who got lost in her dms

liked by daniel3.jpg, carlossainz55 and 355,836 others

lando.‪jpg i’ll take that as a compliment

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username1 LANDOOOOO

username2 he remember the password for this account

username3 WHAT DOES HE MEAN 😭

charles_leclerc 😂😂😂😂

daniel3.jpg mate im sure that’s not how it works…

‬ ↳ lando.‪jpg did i ask?

↳ username1 HUH LET ME IN

username4 WHAT IS HE ON ABOUT

username5 who’s attention is he trying to get with this post

username6 lando has been moving weirdly lately

carlossainz55 EMBARRASING

↳ charles_leclerc Please make him understand

↳ georgerussell63 😂😂😂😂

↳ username2 WHAT IS THIS

↳ username3 I NEED TO BE PART OF THEIR INSIDE JOKES

↳ username4 I HATE THEM

↳ lando.jpg can’t hear the haters

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris and 609,638 others

yourinstagram monaco i am in you ✨

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username1 FACE CARDDDD

username2 the queen in monaco ? slay

username3 i know a certain mclaren driver will like to hear about this information

gigihadid 😍😍

madisonbeer MY GIRLFRIEND 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

username4 SCREAMING

username5 her genes are really blessed

↳ username1 ofc she’s a brazilian

brunamarquezine Linda 💘💘

username6 don’t let lando norris find out

username7 LANDO X YN?? is this what i’m getting from this comments ??

↳ username2 more like lando thirsts over her but she ignores him

carlossainz55 No way! We should meet up

↳ yourinstagram i was about to text youuu carlitos

↳ username2 LOVE THEM

jacobelordi 😍

↳ username1 dream couple fr

alexandrasaintmleux FINALLY 🙌🙌

↳ yourinstagram can’t wait to see youuuu gorgeous sass won’t know what hit them

↳ username3 OMFG IT GIRLS MEETING

landonorris 🤤🤤😍

↳ username1 DUDE GIVE IT UP

↳ username2 LANDO PLEASE

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the grid but only the cool ones groupchat

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liked by username1, username2 and 8,649 others

f1gossip Lando was at Sass Cafe in Monaco tonight. Any theories of who the girl might be? 👀

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username1 MESSY LANDO

username2 he’s sooo 😭

username3 i need lando to look at me like that

username4 that happening to me could save me

username5 just fell to my knees

username6 isn’t that yn the brazilian model??

↳ username1 WAIT

↳ username2 you have a point

↳ username3 NO WAY 😩

↳ username4 wait a damn minute that’s her

↳ username5 WHY IS LANDO LOOKING AT HER LIKE THAY

username6 ooohhh i see 👀👀

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yourinstagram has added to their stories

replies:

iamrebeccad I have major fomo right now 🥲

↳ yourinstagram YOU SHOULD’VE BEEN THERE

madisonbeer 😍😍😍

anokyai monaco loves you ✨✨

alexandrasaintmleux my new bff 💘💘

↳ yourinstagram i literally love you so much

landonorris miss you already 😍

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the grid but only the cool ones groupchat

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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 612,976 others

yourinstagram first time watching race cars 🏎️ good luck tomorrow to my dear friend carlitosss

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username1 OMGGGGG

username2 SHE WAS AT QUALI ?? SLAY

username3 wag energy

arianagrande 😍😍😍

username4 lando norris was found yelling

username5 THE FACT THAT SHES LANDO’S CRUSH THO

scuderiaferarri ❤️

username6 LANDO X YN FINALLY???

username7 she fits right in she should date lando

username8 WE NEED THE QUEEN AT THE SÃO PAULO GP

username9 the only girl that matters

alexandrasaintmleux Linda 😍😍✨

↳ yourinstagram eu te amo !

brunamarquezine 💘😍🙌

username10 BET LANDO FREAKED OUT

username11 okay but carlos looks so good

carlossainz55 Te quiero!

↳ yourinstagram 🥰🥰

iamrebeccad ❤️❤️❤️

landonorris the most gorgeous girl in the paddock

↳ username1 THERE HE IS

↳ username2 the fact that she has never ever acknowledged any of his comments has me dying

↳ username3 he has BALLS

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landonorris sent you a message request

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liked by username1, username2 and 11,390 others

f1gossip Landinho is in full summer break swing ! The driver was spotted in São Paulo tonight 👀

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username1 LANDINHOOO IS BACK

username2 UMMM AM I READING THIS RIGHT

username3 he did not....

username4 yn just give this boy a chance we all know you keep him hanging

username5 WE WON

username6 he speaks portuguese and all now

username7 this man istg

username8 suddenly brazil is his favorite country in the world

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landonorris sent you a message request

yourinstagram started following landonorris

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liked by username1, username2 and 13,987 others

f1gossip Lando was spotted out and about in São Paulo tonight, but if you look closely, you might notice he's carrying a purse and a phone with a Rhode case. Was Landinho in a date with someone? 👀

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username1 LORD

username2 CUT THE CAMERAS

username3 lando dating a brazilian woman ?? UM YES

username4 IM SUDDENLY BLIND

username5 if it's not yn then we don't want it

username6 I NEED CONFIRMATION THAT HE WAS WITH YN

username7 oh to have lando norris carrying my purse and phone for me

username8 that's a MAN

username9 GOING INSANE

yourinstagram has added to their stories

replies:

madisonbeer girl you're so messy but ily

↳ yourinstagram nice case right? 😙

alexandrasaintmleux Are we finally twinning in the paddock?

↳ yourinstagram we'll seeeeeeee

carlossainz55 Excuse me?

↳ yourinstagram hi carlitos

↳ carlossainz55 You really gave that muppet a chance?

↳ yourinstagram what can i say, he's persistent

landonorris Linda 😍😍

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liked by landonorris, bellahadid and 1,287,399 others

yourinstagram i heard something about race cars in são paulo?

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username1 STUNNING

username2 that's not face card that's face economy

alexandrasaintmleux 😍😍🙌

username3 LANDO THIS IS YOUR CHANCE

username4 future wag?

username5 COME ON LANDO SHOOT YOUR SHOT ONE LAST TIME

username6 if the rumors about her and lando are real....

madisonbeer my queen actually 💋

username7 THIS IS WAG MATERIAL

username8 how funny woud it be if she starts dating another driver when lando has been begging since forever

username9 LINDA

userame10 and when the queen graces interlagos with her presence

landonorris 😍😍😍

↳ username1 LANDOOOO

↳ username2 i respect him

↳ username3 you better win that mf race

liked by username1, username2 and 4,088 others

f1gossip Our eyes are not fooling us, Brazil's national treasure is at the Interlagos circuit paddock with Lando Norris right now

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username1 OMFGGGG

username2 yall don't know the lore

username3 he actually did it....

username4 LANDO NORRIS I NEVER DOUBTED YOU

username5 i used to pray for times like these

username6 HES SOOOOOOOO

username7 lando norris the man that you are

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 2,098,765 others

yourinstagram i told him we could hard launch only if he scored a podium in my country and he didn't so you'll never know who's this fine man 😙

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username1 STOOOOOPPP

username2 MESSY

username3 girl we know that's lando you fell for his charms

sabrinacarpenter 👀👀👀

username4 LANDO NORRIS YOU CHAMP

iamrebeccad 😂😂😂

username5 never doubting little lando norris again

brunamarquezine NO WAY

username6 im so lost whats going on

username7 from not getting a follow back to this LANDOOOO

carlossainz55 Ay dios mio 🤦‍♂️

↳ yourinstagram we love you carlitossss

↳ username1 i bet he refused to be lando's wingman so many times

bellahadid we have some catch up to do

username8 plot twist this is not lando

username9 THIS PICTURE IS SO HOT

username10 most iconic couple already

landonorris i wonder who that fine man could be

↳ username1 LANDO YOU DO THE HARD LAUNCH

↳ username2 i bet he's living

landonorris o mais linda 😍😍

↳ username3 LANDINHOOO

liked by yourinstagram, oscarpiastri and 1,898,375 others

landonorris lost the podium but won something else. obrigado 🇧🇷

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username1 OMFG

username2 THIS MAN ISTG

username3 lando norris you're one little menace

charles_leclerc FINALLY

↳ georgerussell63 After years of being rejected

↳ danielricciardo Look at our boy go 🙌

↳ username1 HEEEELPP THEY ALL KNEW

maxverstappen1 You owe me...

↳ username2 I NEED THE LOREEE

mclaren 🧡

username4 THIS IS TOO ICONIC

username5 okay she's gorgeous

username6 persistence is key i guess

username7 HEEELP HE JUST COULDN'T WAIT

username8 lando dating a brazilian is such a win

yourinstagram you're a cutieeee i guess

[requiemforthepoets]

baby peanut! 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x wife!reader

SUMMARY: keeping your pregnancy from lando was proven to be very hard when all you want is tell him the amazing news that you both are expecting again. but since his birthday was coming up, you waited for his special day to tell him.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: reader is french-russian, multicultural household, established relationships, pregnancy, typos, and gramatical errors

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HAPPY LANDO DAY!!!!! was debating on posting a new fic for him, but decided to just make it a part of the norris family series, though this can be read as a stand alone. hope you’ll enjoy this one!

The soft morning light was just beginning to filter through the white curtains when you stirred awake, glancing over to see Lando fast asleep beside you. His peaceful face looked even more boyish, framed by the tousled strands of hair he hadn’t bothered to tame before collapsing into bed after last night’s stream. It had been hours before he joined you in bed, he and Max laughing and gaming into the early morning, and you knew he deserved this rest.

Just as you began to carefully sit up, you heard a soft rustling sound from the bedroom doorway. Peeking over, you spotted a small figure, a very familiar figure—a little silhouette with tousled hair, just like Lando’s, and sparkling eyes, trying best to tiptoe into the room. It was Thylane, with her tiny hands clutching her favorite blankie. You could see that she was struggling to hold back a giggle as she glanced over at her sleeping father.

Smiling, you brought a finger to your lips, silently shushing her. Thylane’s eyes widened, and she stopped mid-step, freezing in the doorway. You motioned gently for her to come closer to you, and she padded over quietly, looking up at you expectantly.

“Is Papa awake yet?” She whispered, voice barely more than a breath.

The eagerness in her tone made your heart swell, and you could not help but lean down, kissing her lightly on the forehead.

“No, mon amour,” you whispered back, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Papa had a very late night with Uncle Max. He needs his sleep, let’s let him rest a little longer, hm?”

Thylane nodded, her expression brightening at the thought of what you had in mind. “But it’s Papa’s birthday! I want to say happy birthday to him!”

“I know, my love. But how about we go to the kitchen, just you and me, and make a special birthday breakfast for Papa? Then we can surprise him together when he wakes up, and…” you paused, heart fluttering as you thought about the special surprise you had planned, one that you had kept to yourself until today. “And there’s something very exciting we’ll be giving him. Something you’re going to help me with, too.”

Her eyes lit up, and she bounced on her toes, already whispering with excitement. “What is it, Mama?”

“You’ll see, mon petit trésor,” you murmured with a soft smile. “It’s a surprise just as much for you as it is for your Papa. Now, come on.”

You grabbed your silk robe by the vanity chair and put it on. Taking Thylane’s little hand in yours, you casted a quick glance back at Lando. You leaned over, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, lingering just a moment. The warmth of his skin was comforting, and for a heartbeat, you just admired the peaceful look on his face, hoping he would carry that warmth with him when he awoke to find you both by his side. Then you carefully lifted Thylane into your arms to keep her quiet and avoid the soft creaks of the floorboards as you slipped out of the room together.

You and Thylane moved quietly into the kitchen, both of you filled with anticipation. The kitchen was softly lit by the morning sun, casting a warm glow over the countertops as you gathered everything you needed for Lando’s birthday breakfast, with Thylane already clutching the whisk with her small hands, her tongue poking out in concentration as she tried her best to mix the batter for the pancakes.

“Like this, Mama?” She asked, glancing up at you, her face bright with determination.

“Oui, parfait, mon ange,” you replied, ruffling her hair lightly. “Now, tu peux ajouter les blueberries. Add the blueberries, like this.” You handed her a small bowl of plump blueberries, showing her how to fold them gently into the batter.

She followed your instructions very carefully, not wanting to ruin Lando’s surprise, her little fingers pushing each blueberry into the mix with care, her eyes darting to you every so often to check if she was doing it right.

“Is Papa going to love it?” She whispered.

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Of course Papa’s going to love it because you made it for him,” you assured her, watching her face break into a wide grin. “Now, pass me the flour, please—la farine. Careful, don’t spill.”

With both hands, Thylane picked up the small bag of flour and brought it over, the look of focus never leaving her face. She had switched to a more serious demeanor, taking her role as your little sous-chef very seriously.

“Here, Mama!” She said proudly, handing it to you as if it were the most delicate thing in the world.

“Merci, mon trésor,” you replied, taking the flour and measuring out the right amount for the batter. “Okay, now you can stir again, doucement, like this.” You demonstrated, letting her hands follow yours as you guided her through the gentle motions.

When the pancakes were stacked high on a plate, topped with fresh berries and a drizzle of maple syrup, you and Thylane both stood back, admiring your creation.

“Look at what we made together,” you said softly, squeezing Thylane’s shoulder. “Papa will be very happy.”

Thylane clapped her hands excitedly, bouncing on her toes. “Can we give it to him now?”

“Not yet,” you shook your head, a smile forming on your lips. “There’s one more surprise we need to get ready.”

Walking over to the drawer, you retrieved the small acrylic box, some soft cloth, and your carefully wrapped pregnancy test. Thylane’s brows furrowed as she watched you, her head tilting with curiosity.

“What’s that, Mama?” She asked, peering closely at the box as you placed the soft cloth inside.

“This, my love, is a very special surprise for Papa,” you knelt down so that you were eye-level with her, placing the test in the box atop the folded cloth. “Do you remember how you told me you wanted to have a little brother or sister?”

Thylane’s eyes sparkled, and she nodded eagerly. “Yes! Yes! Does this mean…”

“Yes, Tilly. This means you’re going to be a big sister.” You smiled warmly at her.

Her face lit up, her mouth forming a perfect little “O” of excitement. “Really, Mama? I get a baby brother or sister?”

“Yes, mon trésor,” you nodded, laughing softly at her reaction. “We don’t know yet if it’s a brother or sister, but the baby is here, right inside Mama’s tummy, just a little peanut for now.”

Thylane’s eyes went wide with wonder, and she pressed her small hands to your stomach as if she was trying to feel the baby herself.

“A baby peanut!” She giggled, delight shining in her face. “Can we call the baby that for now?”

“Of course,” you chuckled, brushing her hair back. “Until we know more, we can call your little sibling, baby peanut.” She grinned, clearly enamored with the idea, and watched carefully as you tied the ribbon around the box with care.

“Can I help with the ribbon?” She asked, her hand already reaching out eagerly.

“Of course, here.” You said, guiding her hand as she carefully looped the ribbon around, tightening it with a gentle tug and finishing it off in a neat bow.

“Where should we put it, Mama?” She asked, glancing around the room.

You took a quick look at the cozy space, then pointed to a spot on the kitchen counter, just out of Lando’s immediate line of sight.

“Right here,” you decided, setting the box down gently. “That way, Papa won’t see it right away.”

Thylane nodded, grinning widely. “I can’t wait to see Papa’s reaction!”

With breakfast prepared and the surprise box tucked safely out of sight, you and Thylane made your way back to the bedroom, eager to wake up the birthday boy. By now, the sun had fully risen, casting a warm glow across the room as you nudged the door open to your and Lando’s bedroom. You expected to see Lando still sleeping peacefully, but instead, he was already awake, propped up on pillows with his phone in his hand, scrolling with a sleepy smile on his face.

Before you could say anything, Thylane let out a squeal of excitement and sprinted towards the bed, practically launching herself onto him. Lando barely had time to react before she pounced, wrapping her arms around his neck and showering Lando’s face with small kisses.

“Happy birthday, Papa! Happy birthday! Happy birthday!” She chanted, each word punctuated with a giggling kiss to Lando’s cheeks, forehead, and nose. Lando can’t help but laugh, his eyes crinkling with joy as he pulled her close, enveloping her in a warm hug.

“Thank you, Tilly!” He replied, chuckling as he looked up at her. “I don’t think I’ve ever had such a special wake-up call on my birthday before.”

She nodded enthusiastically, her face flushed with pride. “I made you a biiiiig birthday card last night! It’s pink, and has lots of hearts and sparkles on it, and I even drew a race car!”

“Woah, a race car? Just for me? Now that is one special card,” he said, brushing a few stray curls behind her ear as he smiled up at her. “I can’t wait to see it. I bet it’s the best card in the whole world.”

Giggling, Thylane seated herself on top of his stomach, her little hands resting on his chest as she looked down at Lando with pure adoration. You leaned against the doorway, laughing at the sweet sight in front of you before walking over to the bed and settling down beside Lando.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, but laced with affection. “I’m so happy that I get to spend my birthday with my favorite girls.”

You leaned in, brushing your lips softly against his. “Good morning, birthday boy,” you whispered, smiling against his lips before pulling back just slightly. “Happy birthday, my love.”

Lando grinned, puckering his lips again, silently asking for another kiss. Laughing, you leaned down, giving him another soft kiss, feeling his hand come up to gently cup your cheek. In that moment, it was just the three of you, wrapped in warmth and love, as if nothing else in the world existed. As you pulled back, Thylane let out a little giggle, pointing at the two of you with a mischievous grin.

“Ew, Mama and Papa!” She teased, though her face betrayed nothing but happiness.

Lando laughed, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “Hey, I deserve a birthday kiss, don’t I?”

“Papa! Mama and I made you a special breakfast!” She announced, clapping her hands. “We worked really, really hard. I even put the blueberries in all by myself!”

“No way! You mean to tell me you were my chef this morning, too?” Lando ticked her side, making her dissolve into giggles.

Thylane laughed, wiggling under his tickling fingers. “Yes, I’m your chef today! Mama showed me how to make everything.”

“Well, now I definitely have to see what my two favorite girls cooked up,” he said, sitting up slowly.

Lando reached over, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled you close, then lifted Thylane into his other arm. She squealed with delight, wrapping her arms around his neck and snuggling her head against Lando’s shoulder. As the three of you made your way to the kitchen, Lando kept his arm secure around your waist, pulling you close as Thylane chattered excitedly about breakfast.

“Mama taught me how to fold in the blueberries so they wouldn’t smush!” She said proudly. “And we made a big stack of pancakes with syrup and blueberries and…oh! And I even helped tie a bow for your present!”

Lando gave you a curious look over Thylane’s shoulder. “A present, huh?” He asked, raising an eyebrow with a grin. “I’m starting to think you two were up to a lot more than just breakfast this morning.”

“Hm, maybe we were,” you replied, smiling playfully as you reached up to brush a strand of his hair back. “But you’ll have to be patient to find out.”

He chuckled, squeezing your waist. “Well, I don’t know how much patience I have today. I mean, it is my birthday.”

Laughing, you reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Good things come to those who wait, birthday boy.”

The three of you entered the kitchen, where the table was set with the special breakfast you and Thylane had made. Lando’s eyes sparkled as he took it all in, and Thylane beamed with pride, practically bouncing in his arms.

“Happy birthday, Papa!” She exclaimed one last time, her voice full of love and excitement, her little arms squeezing him tightly.

With Lando’s arm around you, and Thylane hugging him with all her might, it was clear to you that this birthday morning could not have started off any sweeter.

Breakfast was a cozy, peaceful affair, the three of you wrapped in the simplicity of the morning. You and Lando chatted about plans for his birthday dinner later, throwing around ideas and laughing at each other’s jokes, while Thylane happily watched her favorite show on her iPad, humming along with the familiar theme song of Little Einsteins. It was a gentle scene, just the three of you? Sharing a quiet, joyful space as the morning sun spilled across the table.

Lando seemed perfectly content, caught up in the warmth of the moment. He had almost forgotten about the small gift waiting for him, tucked away in the kitchen—until you stood up, brushing a gentle hand across his shoulder.

“Wait here for a sec,” you said softly, a hint of excitement in your voice. “Tilly, come help me with something for Papa.”

Thylane’s face lit up as she hopped down from her chair, glancing at you with a secretive smile. She knew exactly what was coming next. Taking her hand, you led her back into the kitchen, glancing over your shoulder to see Lando watching you both with a look of fond curiosity. He seemed completely oblivious to what was coming.

You reached into the cozy corner of the counter, pulling out the small, acrylic box you had hidden away with so much care. Inside, carefully wrapped in a soft cloth, was the positive pregnancy test. You knelt down, handing the box to Thylane, who held it carefully with wide, shining eyes.

“Okay, mon ange,” you whispered, giving her a gentle smile. “Give this to Papa, and make sure he opens it.”

She nodded, taking the box in her hands as if it were a treasure. Together, you walked back to the dining area, where Lando was watching you both with growing curiosity.

“What’s this?” He asked, raising an eyebrow with a playful grin.

Thylane held out the box, her excitement barely contained. Lando took the acrylic box, glancing from her to you, a mixture of awe and confusion on his face.

You smiled, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, leaning close. “Go on,” you said, voice soft with anticipation. “Open it.”

“Open it, Papa! Open it!” She echoed, bouncing slightly on her toes, her face brimming with excitement.

Lando carefully untied the delicate ribbon that Thylane had helped you with that morning, his fingers moving slowly as if savoring the moment. The box felt light in his hands, and his expression shifted from curiosity to wonder as he lifted the lid, pulling away the cloth inside. The instant he saw the test, his eyes widened, and Lando looked up at you with a mixture of disbelief and joy.

“Is this…” he stammered, his voice barely more than a whisper, as though he was afraid he might shatter the moment. “Is this real? Is this for real?”

You nodded, unable to contain your own smile as you squeezed his shoulder. “Yes, love. It is real.” You watched his face light up as the reality of it washed over him.

“Happy birthday, my love.” You added softly, feeling your own heart swell with happiness.

Lando did not hesitate. He stood up, pulling you into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around you as he lifted you off of your feet, twirling you in a gentle circle. His laugh was warm and filled with immense happiness so pure that it brought tears to your eyes.

“After all this time,” he murmured, voice thick with emotions as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “We’re really going to have another baby?” You nodded, laughing through your tears.

“I found out a few weeks ago, when you were in Mexico. I wanted to wait until today to tell you.” You placed a hand on his cheeks, gazing up at him with all the love you had been holding back for weeks. “It took everything in me not to tell you the moment I found out.”

He kissed you softly, his forehead pressing against yours as he whispered. “Thank you for waiting, love. This…this is literally the best birthday gift I’ve ever had.”

“Papa, did you see? It’s real!” She said, beaming and clapping her hand, while bouncing in happiness. “I’m going to have a baby brother or sister! I told Mama I want to call them baby peanut!”

“Baby peanut, huh?” Lando chuckled, bending down to lift Thylane into his arms, bringing her close to the two of you. Kissing her forehead, and looking at you with a grin. “I think that’s a perfect name, for now.”

“Papa, can we tell everyone? All our friends?” Thylane’s face lit up at the thought, and she looked back and forth between you and Lando.

“Soon, Tilly. But for now, let’s keep it our little secret, okay? Just between us.” He leaned down, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “That way, we can keep baby peanut all to ourselves a little longer.”

“Our little secret!” She nodded seriously, her eyes wide as she held her finger to her lips. “I’m really good at secrets, Papa. I won’t tell anyone!”

You all just stood there, basking in the warmth and happiness of the quiet moment, Lando had never felt a new kind of peace settle over him. This was everything he had ever wanted, everything he had ever dreamed of. A family, life filled with love and laughter, and now, another little one on the way.

Lando let Thylane down, letting her run towards the living room to play with her toys. He reached out, threading his fingers through yours and giving your hand a gentle squeeze, and kissing it softly.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice breaking a little bit. “For this, for everything. You’ve given me the greatest gift of all.”

You squeezed his hand back, your own eyes shining with emotion. “I love you,” you murmured. “Happiest birthday, my love.”

As Lando held you closely, he realized that this was a happiness beyond anything he could have ever imagined.

[ylangelegy]

is it casual now? (teaser) 🫀 seungcheol x reader.

★ seungcheol x makeup artist!f!reader. ★ teaser word count: ~8,000 ★ genre/warnings: mdni. 18+ content. situationship/friends with benefits, light angst, use of pet name ('love'). soft dom!seungcheol, making out, biting/marking, protected sex. let me know if i missed anything! ★ footnotes: this has been on my backburner for months. it's admittedly a full-blown story in need of hard editing, and so i'm posting this in hopes of bullying myself into working on the whole thing. should it come down to it, though, i like to think this can stand on its own. enjoy. <3

Seungcheol has been in the industry long enough to know that everybody had vices.

Trainees, rookies, veterans. It didn't matter. There were dangerous, risky vices. Alcohol, drugs, smoking. There was dating, too, of course. Dating fans, dating fellow idols.

Seungcheol didn't do drugs. He smoked socially, but he would rather not. And he drank, sure, but never to an unhealthy amount. Dating, however—

Did it really count when there was only really ever one person he treated like a vice?

You've been in his life since the group debuted. Nine years, give or take. And then, at one point, he just... tried something with you. And it clicked, fell into place, and now you've been sneaking around for the better half of three years. It's the one place Seungcheol feels like he can breathe, can get away. But it's also the biggest secret he's kept.

You're his makeup artist, after all.

When the two of you started off, you both insisted on nothing serious. To 'keep it casual'.

That worked perfectly for Seungcheol. He likes to think it's still working for him, as he raps at the door of your apartment and waits for you to open up. His wristwatch says that it's midnight, but it doesn't matter. He knocks a little louder, growing a touch impatient.

You open the door, and you're greeted with Seungcheol looking reproachful. "Yah," he chides. "Why haven't you been answering my texts?"

When you rub your eyes with the back of your hands and look over your shoulder to glimpse at your wall clock, Seungcheol almost feels apologetic. Almost. “Cheol,” you say exasperatedly, slowly. “It’s the middle of the night.” 

"So you were sleeping then, hmm?" Seungcheol says. The corner of his lips tilt up, just slightly. He leans against the doorframe, taking a brief amount of time to glance you over. As he does, a small wave of tiredness finally washes over him— just how late had he kept himself up working on new music? "I sent you texts hours ago."

"You didn't even read them." He reaches up, tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He sighs, the sound almost exaggerated. "How cruel of you."

You let out a low hum at Seungcheol’s fingers brushing against your skin. “Mmm, I fell asleep with my phone in my hand,” you admit, the words coming out more like a soft sigh than anything else.

You seem to finally drag yourself out of your sleepy state to give Seungcheol a once-over. He knows it shows all over— the exhaustion in his eyes, his stance. He’s tired, and you can tell. You’ve always been able to tell. 

You step aside a bit and he takes that as his cue. Seungcheol moves past you, a small hum in the back of his throat. He toes off his shoes and shuts the door behind him with a soft click. In spite of himself, the moment he's inside, he reaches for you. 

One arm is loosely slung over your shoulders, pulling you in close. He rests his chin on your shoulder, the tip of his nose against your neck.

"You fell asleep..." he gripes. "Do you know how many texts I sent you? I sent five.” 

“Five”” you repeat as you bear Seungcheol’s weight. Your hand instinctively raises to stroke the base of his hair behind his neck, and he thinks he could melt then and there— your soothing touch, your light tone. “Oh, how ever will you live?”

Seungcheol huffs into the crook of your neck. The feel of your fingers in his hair does wonders to combat the tired, stressed part of himself. Slowly, his shoulders relax, and he sighs, the sound long and deep.

"Don't get snarky with me," he mutters. But there's no bite to it at all, just a quiet sense of contentment in his voice. "You could've at the very least read the messages." He moves, presses a kiss to your neck. "Would've taken ten seconds."

“I was asleep,” you protest, but— whether or not you notice— your head is tilting around a bit to press a lingering kiss on to the side of his face.Seungcheol's stomach flutters. You're sweet like that. Always have been, always will be. He hums under his breath at the kiss, his hand that's on your shoulder moves up to cup your cheek.

“That’s my penance,” you say drowsily. 

"One kiss isn't nearly enough," he tells you. 

He pulls back from your shoulder to look at you, now. The eye contact, the way he regards you, has a more focused weight. He takes a moment to look you over again— hair mussed, face still flushed faintly from sleep. "Two,” he says in a tone that brokers no argument. 

“Greedy,” you mumble, but both of you know it doesn’t matter. 

Not when your free hand finds purchase at his side and you use your fingers in his hair to pull him down so you don't have to stand on your tiptoes. Not when you press your lips together into a kiss that's soft and sweet, almost sleepy.

All it takes is the sound of your voice for Seungcheol to be pulled in— when you tug at his hair, he follows, his chest against yours. He bends down, his own hands coming up to the sides of your face.

He melts against your mouth, his eyes closing in an instant. But it’s done as quickly as it started. You pull away, your face still inches away from Seungcheol’s, as you smilingly mumble to him, “There. Two kisses.” 

His eyes open again once you pull away, his grip on your face tightening just slightly. "Three," he mutters back, and then he leans back in. 

You hum against his mouth, the sound breaking free from the back of your throat. You’re both so tired from your respective work and it shows in the kiss. No heat, no fire. Your tongue swiping over his lip makes Seungcheol hum, quiet and low in his throat. He's usually so used to being the one who takes control, making the first move, but here with you, in the early hours of the morning— there's something else to it.

He pulls you closer against him, his hands moving down to your hips. Against your mouth, he murmurs, "Four," before his tongue slips in, just to get a taste. Just to linger, just to savor, but not take over.

“Cheol,” you huff, though your reprimand is tempered by the way Seungcheol is intent on keeping the kiss going. “You’re— mmph— being greedy—” 

"Five—" he sighs against your mouth. "Let me be greedy a second more."

One of his hands moves to the back of your head, fingers tangling up in your hair. This is what he likes, this is what he always comes to you for. Something that's simple. This, he can deal with. This, he can handle.

It’s never a second more with Seungcheol. He’s always out the door when he can go, when he has to. He’s never been a glutton for time, and so it’s enough for you to sense that something is wrong. 

You break away from him. 

Seungcheol has to resist a whine when you pull back, his eyes fluttering open in a daze. Your hand has moved to his face and you’re looking up at him with a small frown and a quiet query. “Long week?” 

He lets your question hang in the air for a moment, the hand in your hair loosening its grip, fingers just idly combing through the strands.

He glances at your face— the furrow of your brow, the hint of concern in your eyes— and it makes him sigh. He turns his head to press a soft, quick kiss to your palm.

"Long year," he corrects.

You look like you want to say more. Seungcheol almost begs you not to. This— whatever the two of you have— it’s an outlet that won’t break him, won't ruin him, won't tarnish him or the group's name. He just wants— he needs—

You know exactly what he needs, even if he doesn’t always know himself. “How do you want your fifth kiss?” you ask instead of commenting on his obvious fatigue. 

Your question makes Seungcheol's head empty out in an instant.

It takes him a moment to think, to consider. His mind, hazy and tired as it is, struggles to come up with an adequate answer. All he knows is that he's comfortable, that he's tired, that you're here. And that's all he really needs, in the end.

He lets his hand fall from your hair, to the nape of your neck. "... Soft," he murmurs. "Soft and easy."

You’re back up on your tiptoes to give him what he asked for. A sweet, slow press of your lips against his. It’s a kiss that lovers give each other, even though you’re the furthest from that. 

It's easy, easy, easy for him to fall into the kiss just like that, a shudder running down his spine when your tongue doesn't invade him. It's sweet, it's chaste, it's simple. It's exactly the kind of kiss he needs after a week of work.

His hand on your neck moves to your cheek, his thumb brushing over the skin there. He breaks away for a mere second, a fraction of a beat, to catch his own breath, but he kisses you right back after. 

"Six," he whispers desperately. "Again."

This time, you laugh against his mouth— a slightly muffled sound, not any less amused— but you give in, still. When you separate for air again, one of your hands rests on his chest to keep him away. “You have to let me breathe, Cheol,” you huff. 

Seungcheol has to resist groaning outright when your palm on his chest keeps him from coming in for another kiss. You're adorable like this, in the middle of the night, with sleep in your eyes and annoyance in your voice.

He knows he's being needy, taking advantage, but at the same time? It's all he seems to be able to do. Greedy, he hears you call him, and it's true.

"I'll let you breathe when I get my seventh kiss, then," he grumbles.

He can see the annoyance blooming on your expression, but he’s saved by one thing and one thing alone: The fact that you can get pretty greedy sometimes, too, especially when Seungcheol was involved. 

"Fine," you say haughtily, feigning annoyance. "Just one more kiss."

Seungcheol's eyes glimmer with something akin to mischief. His hands move to your face again, his own lips curving up in a smirk. You give him an inch, he wants a mile. It's his style. "One more kiss. That I can work with."

He brushes a thumb over your cheek again, his grip in your hair loosening only to brush some stray strands away from your face. "Only fair that I get to pick the way, then," he says, his tone low.

He's going to make the most of this opportunity, and you're letting him.

His tongue darts out briefly to lick over his bottom lip. "Open your mouth."

When you let out a noncommittal hom and oblige, parting your lips, he knows he’s gone. Seeing the obedience in your face makes Seungcheol's stomach do a little bit of an excited flip. You're like this, this, even when you're tired, when you're barely awake.

It's a little addicting.

"Good," he says softly. It's all the warning you get before he's got his mouth on yours again.

He kisses you— devours you, his tongue parting your lips, sliding into your mouth, taking. The kiss is almost bruising and seems to throw you off balance, but you quickly recover by pressing flush against Seungcheol and holding the sides of his arms. If he were a better person, Seungcheol would let this be the last one. Would let this kiss end and call it a night. 

But then the smallest of sounds escape you. A whimper, a soft noise that only makes all sense fly right out of Seungcheol's head. It's not fair, he thinks, that you still have a hold on him even in the middle of the night.

All it makes him do is pull you closer— press you up against the wall with his entire body, his hands still gripping your face as he kisses you deep. Harder than he usually would, rougher than he normally did.

He swallows the sound, his tongue still in your mouth.

Your fingernails are pressing into his biceps now. Your tongue is sinking into his lower lip; not quite biting, but enough to drag his focus away for a moment. "Seung," you sigh, and it’s like music to his goddamn ears. 

He was Choi or Seungcheol when he was in your makeup chair. Cheol, when it was just the two of you. But Seung was something different entirely. 

A small moan, low and quiet, gets caught in Seungcheol's throat when you bite into his lip, when you whine out his name like that. He knows what it means when you call him like that— knows what he's in for.

He relishes in it. In moments like these when he gets to be like this. When he doesn't have to be responsible, when he doesn't have to be a leader. He gets to be just Seung.

There isn't a single part of his body that's not on fire right now, not when he's got you pinned against the wall, not when you're all satin and soft against him. His grip on your face tightens, and now his lips are no longer on your mouth, but on your jaw, moving down to your neck, your throat.

A quiet, needy little ah falls out your lips when he nips at that spot on your pulse point, and there, there is exactly when he knows that he's got you exactly where he wants you. Pinned by his body, shaking and shivering like he's touching you for the first time.

If he was feeling a little less riled up, a little less needy, he'd keep up the teasing. But he can't, not now. His hands move from your face to your hips, moving under the satin of your pajamas. It's not enough, never enough.

Every sound that leaves your mouth, every little please, just, already sets a fire in his brain. Every part of his mind turns to static, white noise, as he keeps his lips on your throat, your neck, biting and nipping at your skin.

“Seung,” you hiss, your hands flying to his shoulders as you press your back on to the entryway wall, willing yourself not to crumple. “I’m going to get a noise complaint again—”

“I'll pay the fine,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips against your collarbone now, his hands still on your hips. His brain is starting to grow fuzzy, his thoughts less coherent, but this was the goal.

To get you like this. Soft and shaking and desperate. To make you his for the night, for just a little while. To hold some sort of control over something in his life.

“You can't just keep paying for— ah— the fines,” you’re babbling. “They're going— t-to kick me— Seung, fuck!"

Whatever you’re trying to say dies out when Seungcheol nips at your warm skin. The rational part of him, somewhere deep, deep inside, knows that you're right. He can't keep paying your fines for complaints of loud music and loud sex.

The part of him that's currently working on painting a bruise on your collarbone doesn't seem to care all that much.

"I'll pay," he repeats, between leaving a few more marks on your skin for good measure. "As many times as I have to—"

“Jesus Christ,” you cuss, your chest heaving as Seungcheol’s hand moves higher and higher up your shirt. “My neighbors are so fucking sick of me, and it’s all your fault.”

“My fault?” Even through the haze in his head, Seungcheol can't help the low scoff that he lets out. He wants to say that he couldn't care less about your neighbors— wants to say that your pretty mouth makes up for the noise, but something else catches his attention. The brush of his fingers on bare skin. 

His eyes go wide, his brain suddenly clearing.

"You're not wearing anything underneath your pajamas," he deadpans, his voice coming out in a low drawl.

Of course, that adds up. You hadn’t been expecting Seungcheol, after all, so he can’t blame you for foregoing the underclothes. Still, it only stokes the growing flame in the base of his stomach. Especially when you move your head back against the wall so you’re looking right up at Seungcheol, the ghost of a smirk on your face. 

“Wanna check for yourself?” you taunt. 

A low groan falls out of Seungcheol's mouth as soon as you ask that. Like clockwork, his hands go to the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric up slightly. Just a little bit, just to see if you're really not wearing anything beneath.

"You always like to tease," he says, his voice low. That hint of a smirk on your face is only serving to drive him that much crazier. "Go on, then. Show me, since you want to act all cocky."

You give him half an eye roll that’s more affectionate than anything else before reaching over to the back of your pajama collar. You pull the top over your head in one deft, swift movement. Seungcheol's eyes go wide for just a moment, taking in the sight of you, undressed, in front of him. It never stops shocking him, never stops making his heart thump a little harder, his breath coming out a little more labored.

“Happy?” you half-joke, your voice low. 

He looks at you, up and down, before his eyes go back to your face. His hands move from your hips to your waist, fingers tracing over the sides of your chest as he shakes his head.

"Not yet," he says. "But I will be."

His hands keep tracing over your skin, his touch light— almost feathery, as he keeps his eyes fixed on your face. There's something about seeing you so exposed like this that's driving him absolutely insane, something about you being entirely at his mercy that's making his eyes grow dark.

He leans in, bringing his lips just past your ear. "Turn around," he murmurs, almost like a command.

He sees how you swallow hard, how you take in the familiar darkness in Seungcheol’s gaze. You know him, have known him for years, and that comes with trust. Unflinchingly, you twist around in his arms to press your chest against the wall. 

He has you practically trapped, all against his chest and the wall. His eyes look at you up and down, taking in your bare shoulders and back, the way you've submitted to him so perfectly.

His hands go to your hips again, and his eyes look over your back, following the line of your bare spine. "What do you say we find a use for this wall besides me just pushing you up against it," he murmurs. "Hm?"

“Yes, please,” you whimper, and as soon as you agree, Seungcheol's hands tighten on your hips, his grip almost bruising as he pulls you a little closer to him. You're not going anywhere, not when he's got you like this.

He leans in, his body practically pressing up against your back, his chest against your skin. He bites down on your shoulder, pulling a strangled whine out from somewhere deep in your throat. "You look so goddamn pretty like this, love," he murmurs against your skin.

His hands move from your hips to your chest, tracing the skin there before he brings them up to your throat. He presses his fingers against your pulse point, feeling the thump thump thump of your heartbeat.

He can feel your heart thrumming against his hand, can practically hear you shaking. It's driving him absolutely insane— you, underneath him, trembling for him. The knowledge that he's got you like this, the fact that you're letting him take control, letting him do whatever he wants.

He moves his mouth to that spot on your neck again, the skin that's so sensitive that it makes you whimper and shiver. He always finds it so easy to tease those sounds out of you, and always relishes in doing it.

His hands stay at your neck, his fingers still pressed against your pulse point. This had always been one of Seungcheol's little habits— a single finger on your pulse point, as if he liked seeing which actions would make your heart rate spike, which words would have it hammering.

Seungcheol presses his lips on your skin again. "You're so loud."

He marvels at the way you ball your hands into fists, the way you shake all over with poorly concealed want and need as he keeps nipping and marking. "‘M not," you gasp, lurching forward against the wall. "‘M perfectly— hng!"

Everything is working in his favor.

You're shaking, and your heart is racing, and every noise you make is just more fodder for him. God, he loves it. Loves being the one to make you absolutely tremble and shiver like this. Loves the fact that he's the only one to make you feel like this.

"You're mine," he says again, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He bites the shell of it, hard, before letting out a low hum.

This is his favorite place in the entire world— right against your back, feeling your body heat against his chest, his tongue running over your skin. He loves how reactive you are to him, how sensitive you are, how your body just melts under his touch.

"Say it," he mutters against your skin. "Who's in control?"

There it is. The million won question.

The whole reason you started these rendezvouses in the first place. He had been spinning out of control, and you had been lonely, and you clicked into place like magnets. 

You give in, like you always do. The words are a soft whimper, almost a shout in your otherwise empty apartment. "You. You're in control, Seung."

That's all he wants to hear.

He digs his fingers into your jaw and wrenches your head so it's turned to look at him, his lips inches from yours. Even if there's a little pain, nothing in him is stopping. "Good," he mutters, his breath hot against your lips. "Good girl."

The kiss that follows is absolutely messy, the kind of kiss where it's just tongue and teeth and raw need. It's worlds different from the soft and easy kisses that Seungcheol asked for earlier, when he first came in complaining about five unanswered texts.

"Seung," you groan as you pull away for air. "Please—" 

When you moan his name, it's like something snaps.

He growls low, his fingers slipping into the waistband of your shorts, gripping the fabric hard enough that there's a very real chance of them ripping. "Please what?" he mumbles against your neck. "You need to tell me what you need, love. Use your words."

"I hate you," you whine, and Seungcheol nearly smiles. He knows you’re not fond of begging, but he needs to hear it from you. At least, he wants to. 

"You know what I—" you’re saying, but dammit, his control is already razor thin as is. He rips off the last fabric of clothing on you until you’re completely bare, pressed entirely up between the wall and him. 

Somehow, your mind still has some shrivel of coherence to complain, "I liked this set, asshole!"

He grins against your skin at your words, chuckling at your whine, at the way you're just reacting to him. You can act annoyed, you can act like you don't need him, but he knows. "I'll buy you a new one," he hums, finally letting go of your shorts and letting them fall to the floor in tatters. "One for me to rip to shreds all over again."

That thought alone makes his blood sing.

It takes you a great effort to turn around, but somehow you manage. Seungcheol is still fully clothed and so your bare chest presses against the front of his shirt. The sight of you, naked, his hands at your hips, pressed right up against him, against his chest like this— he's gone.

And then you’re asking him, low and sweet as he has you caged in, "Where are you going to fuck me tonight, Seung?"

He can't even manage a word for a moment, his hands holding you so tight that he's definitely going to leave marks on your skin, his eyes fixed on your face.

He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry at the question. "You want me to say it out loud, hm?"

You go to steal the upper hand for a minute or so, and you do it so effectively. Your hand rises almost lazily to his neck, your finger instinctively finding his pulse point. He feels his heart rate speed up as he watches, just watches, you do it. You stand on your tiptoes to raise your lips directly to his ear. 

All he can feel is the thunder of his heart racing against your hand. You seem to notice it, too, if the smile on your face is any indication. 

"How about you just show me instead?" you say, and he’s convinced he’ll pass out then and there. 

"You're a brat," he mutters through gritted teeth, his hand moving up from your hips and up your spine. "A brat who needs to be taught a lesson."

He takes a shuddering breath, almost completely lost in your little game, before he snaps back to himself. Seungcheol's hand leaves your hip and goes to your hand, gripping your wrist hard. "On the sofa," he says, and it’s nothing short of a command. 

He practically drags you on to the piece of furniture, watching intently as you fall back with a small oomph. Seungcheol stands on the edge of the couch as you prop yourself up by the elbows to watch him right back. 

The sight of you underneath him— your hair splayed against the cushions, your eyes half-lidded and fixed on him? It's absolutely perfect. It's the kind of thing that he wants to keep in his mind forever, the sight he wants to always be able to remember.

He lets out a noise under his breath as he undoes the button of his jeans, the sound of the zipper going down obscenely loud in the quiet room. "Gorgeous,” he breathes. 

He gets his jeans undone and kicked off, his shirt following them not long after, and then he's on top of you, caging you in, his hands either side of your head, staring down at you.

The look in his eyes isn't something he really gets to show often— that raw need, that want, how desperate he is for you. He wants you, God, he wants you so badly, and you're letting him have you.

He dips his head to your neck, his lips against your skin, his breath hot against your pulse point, still absolutely obsessed with that spot. His hands find your wrists, pinning them back against the couch, while his knee finds its way between your thighs, pressing up against you.

You arch and squirm underneath him, visibly distressed with the facsimile of friction that you’re getting from his knee. “Seung,” you pant, grinding your dripping core against his knee. It sends a jolt of electricity through him. “Please— don’t wanna wait any more—”

“Where’s all that snark now, hm?” he teases, his teeth running over the skin on your neck. But he’s not any better off, his own self-control slipping through his very fingers as his hips grind down against you desperately. 

"Been driving me insane, love," he whispers, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your neck. "Been dreaming about this for days. Missing you—” 

A low keen escapes you, and he can only echo it as you tug at the last piece of material separating you. “Can we get this off already, please?” you huff as you hook your fingers at the waistband of his boxer shorts. 

He groans against your skin, his teeth finally letting go when he lifts his head to look down at you, the expression on his face looking like he's fighting for control. "God, yes," he groans, lifting his hips just enough for you to tug them off him.

He kicks them off once you’ve yanked them down, and his hand— which has instinctively gravitated to your pulse point— feels how the beat absolutely skyrockets. One of your arms goes around his shoulder and the other, surprisingly, clutches his jaw.

You’re looking right at him as you say, "Fast and hard, Seung."

"Yeah?" he says, just the slightest hint of a surprise in his voice. "You want me to be rough with you, love?"

Seungcheol was usually a sweet lover. He liked taking his time, liked being gentle and responsible even in bed.

But there were particularly rough weeks, terrible days, where he just needed a means to an end. Where the sex was an outlet, where the best thing you could be for him was his. 

He waits for your permission, because he still always remembers to ask no matter how far deep you’re in. The agreement comes in the form of the best three words. 

"Ruin me, Seung."

You know him too well. You know how he works, you know how he thinks, and you know him better than anyone.

He groans in response to your words, his head dipping down to drag his teeth gently over your collarbone. He's trying to hang on to his control, he is, but it's a losing effort.

"I will, love." His breath is hot against your skin, his hands finding your hips. "Just give me a minute—"

He shifts, just for a moment, to find the condom in his jean pocket. He goes through the motions until he's back on top of you again, one hand coming up to grip your hip again, the other coming up to rest against your throat. He looks down at you, his eyes almost glowing. 

"You trust me?" he mutters. His hand at your hip tightens; his hand at your throat barely clenches around your pulse point, his eyes never leaving yours.

You can feel it, see it. The way the little threads are beginning to unravel and fray. The way this was no longer Seungcheol of SEVENTEEN; not the leader, not the idol. This was something different entirely, someone else completely.

"I do," you whisper back, your eyes so full of adoration for him that he has to bite back the urge to scream. "I trust you, Seungcheol."

His full name is what really does it for him, because then he's pushing in, and you’re gasping, whimpering, trying to adjust around him and the fact that you’re practically clenching him on the get-go. Seungcheol eases in, nice and slow, because you’re too tightly coiled for him to do more than carefully bottom out. You’re both heaving, your breaths coming out as gasps; your own breaths are sharp, harsh, because Seungcheol is still choking you a little. 

His head dips down to your shoulder because he needs something to hold on to, anything, while his mind spins. His head is dizzy feeling you like this, feeling you around him so tightly. He's trembling, his thighs shaking, but he's holding himself back as long as he can.

When Seungcheol gets as far in as he can possibly get, you let out twin groans. He’s completely sheathed inside of you and you’re fluttering around him in a way that’s dangerous. 

“Y’can move, Seung,” you reassure him after a moment, the words coming out strained with desire. “As fast and hard as you want.” 

You sound strangled, just like he feels, and it's taking him a mammoth amount of control to hold himself back. He groans against your shoulder at the sound of your voice, the words you say. He wants to move, to thrust, but he's trying to have some semblance of composure. 

"Love," he says, his voice wrecked. "I—"

His voice breaks. It breaks, because there is only so much he can take, and he's beyond that point now. There's a tremor in his thighs, his hands clenching in the cushion below you.

You drag him right back down, with the sound that you let out that’s halfway a whine and a sigh. One of your hands goes to rest in the space between Seungcheol’s shoulder blades, as if to steady the two of you. 

Your voice is surprisingly firm when you speak. "Let go," you command. And then, softer, "I need you."

Your words, your voice— it's in complete conflict with the situation you're currently in. And yet, it works. He lets out a sound, one that's somewhere between a growl and a whimper, his breath hot against your skin. And then he's moving and he's holding nothing back.

He's hard, brutal, and he's taking. His teeth on your shoulder; his breath against your neck; his nails digging into you.

It's a relentless, dizzying pace. Seungcheol bullies into your weeping cunt, fast and hard, and it draws out the most obscene sounds from you. Gasps, whines, an occasional scream when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. What has him seeing stars is the fact that you can't seem to settle on a name to moan. "Seung— Seungcheol— Cheol—"

Yes, you're saying, yes.

Seungcheol loses himself, utterly and completely, in you. You're on the edge, he can hear it; he can feel it, and God, he wants to hear you say his name. Every single one of them. 

It almost sounds like a mantra, your voice, as he takes and takes and takes, his breathing harsh, ragged.

You go through all of the names you have for him, breathless and wrecked, until you can't even say anything because his hips are snapping into you with a ferocity that's rare but not unwelcome. Your pornographic moans reverberate in your otherwise empty apartment, and Seungcheol thinks he might go insane. 

"'M close," you choke out. "Cheollie, baby, I'm— ah, fuck— Seung—"

His breath catches at your words, his eyes closing for a moment as he groans. You, you, in all your perfect, glorious, undone state. It’s a sight he wishes he could capture, freeze in time.

He lets out a whimper, his words almost slurred when he responds. "Love— I—"

He's never been this rough, never this intense. You're the only one, the only person he's ever let himself go like this with. The only person who he's ever let see everything, take everything.

He's on the edge, he's there, he's—

"C'mon," he whines, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand clenching hard around your hip. "With me, love, please."

It's a miracle that you can even nod, can even find your voice as Seungcheol keeps on going with his erratic, stuttering thrusts. "With you," you gasp. 

He snaps into you, then, and you arch up with a scream of his name. There’s the familiar white-hot flash of pleasure; the impossibly tight clench of your walls around him.

He stays buried in you for several long moments, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his heart pounding so hard he can feel it in his ears. He has never felt so utterly spent in his entire life, never been so completely, utterly drained of energy. He's weak against you. He’s weak because of you. 

"God," he finally manages to mutter.

He lifts his head, just enough to be able to look at you, but he can't even muster a grin. He's spent and he knows you know that.

His hand comes up slightly, to brush the hair off of your forehead. "I think..." he says, his voice thick and hoarse, "I think I ruined you, love."

You let out a breathless laugh, one that you have to push out of your heaving chest. "You—" you try to say, but the words don't form, not at first. You take a few moments to take in some air, to gulp past the lump in your throat. "You're a fool."

His lips twitch into a tired but genuine smile at the sound of your laugh. It’s a soft sound that he's always thought sounds beautiful, especially coming from you.

A hoarse, broken laugh of his own escapes; his hand coming up to rest at your jawline, his thumb gently tracing over the warm skin there. He's still catching his breath, but he's slowly gathering himself.

"Am I a fool?" he asks quietly, leaning his forehead against yours. "What does that make you, then?"

You’re a fool, too, he thinks to himself. For letting me have this. 

Instead of answering him, you press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. It’s the only answer he’s going to get from you for now, it seems. 

He lets out a soft huff, moving his head back just slightly, his eyes closing. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he says quietly, his voice still rough with fatigue.

"Every time," you respond. Your own voice is strained, almost tired, but there's a hint of amused exasperation. "You say that every time, Cheol."

His eyes opened once again to look at you.

"Because it's true," he says simply, his voice soft and sincere, the hand resting at your jaw moving to brush your hair back from your face. "It's always true, love."

He lets out a soft sigh, his eyes tracing over your face, taking in every inch of you. His eyes pause at your lips for a moment, his tongue gently wetting his own, his gaze finally moving back up to meet your eyes.

You thread your shaking fingers through the back of his hair and answer his unspoken question. "Kiss me soft and easy, Cheol," you whisper.

The moment the words leave your mouth, he's in action.

He leans forward without a second thought, the hand not buried in your hair going to rest on your hip, his lips meeting yours in a soft, gentle kiss.

There's no heat in it, no want or need. Just a soft press of his lips against yours, gentle and slow. 

It's languid and unhurried. Like there's nowhere either of you have to be after this. For a moment, you can pretend that this is normal— that Seungcheol will not have to leave, and that you’ll not have to change into new pajamas because he'd broken yours, and that you can be... well, something, anything aside from what you are now.

But it's wishful thinking, you both know, so all Seungcheol can do is kiss you. He lets out a soft sound, almost a sigh, as his tongue slides into your mouth, his hand on your hip tightening slightly. His other hand is in your hair still, his fingers gently tracing over your scalp, his body almost melting against yours.

He will have to leave. He always does. But for now, he's here, with you, and you feel perfect, and—

Five minutes, he bargains. Five more minutes.

And then things end, not really by your own accord.

The sharp, shrill sound of Seungcheol's phone ringing breaks through your haze. You pull away, a bit jolted at the foreign sound— at something other than your words, your breathing, reverberating in the room. It takes you a beat too long to realize someone is calling him— his phone in his discarded jeans— in the godawful middle of the night. 

He lets out a loud groan, the sound tired and drawn out, and he can't help but rest his forehead against your shoulder once again, letting out a resigned sigh.

"God, save me," he mutters, his voice rough. "What time is it?"

You chuckle lightly. "Go on," you urge softly, not because you want to but because you have to. "Answer."

Seungcheol lets out another loud, drawn out sigh, his shoulders slumping in obvious defeat. He reluctantly lifts his head from your shoulder with a grumble, but he can't quite stop himself from pressing a kiss to your cheek just before he shifts up and off of the couch.

Once he’s reached down to grab his phone from where it's stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, he answers without looking at the caller ID. "Yeah?"

"Hyung!"

It's Soonyoung— of course it's Soonyoung— calling.

"Are you still at the company?" the younger member asks. "I think I forgot my headset in one of the practice rooms, and Minghao said you didn't go home with them."

"It's midnight, Soonyoung." 

You shit over on the couch, careful not to make any sound. Not to give Soonyoung any suspicion that Seungcheol might be somewhere where he shouldn't be. You press a small, reassuring kiss to Seungcheol's hip as Soonyoung goes on to whine, "Yeah, yeah, I know. But it's the expensive headset, hyung. If you're still there, could you check? Please?"

Seungcheol lets out a huff— a mixture of resigned affection and irritation— at the feeling of your lips against his skin. He can feel the exhaustion deep within his bones now, and all he wants to do is go back to snuggling into you for the night.

But he can't say no to Soonyoung, especially not at this time of night.

"Fine," he grumbles, letting out a huff. "Which practice room?"

You can hear the moment Soonyoung practically brightens with triumph.

"Third floor!" he says happily, and you bury your face into Seungcheol's side to keep yourself from laughing. "You're the best, hyung! I'll buy you a meal tomorrow for the trouble!"

He reaches down with the hand not holding his phone, pressing his palm to the top of your head, pushing lightly down. A warning of don't laugh. "Just be thankful I'm your hyung, kid," Seungcheol grouses.

Soonyoung ends the call soon enough, saying some things about sending Seungcheol a photo of his headset so he knows exactly which one is missing. When it's back to just the two of you again, you tilt your head up to look at Seungcheol. 

"You're really going back for it tonight?" you ask, even though you already know the answer. 

The corner of his lip twitches into a half smile at the way you look up at him. His eyes takein the sight of you— his hand on the back of your head, his fingers gently twisting strands of your hair.

"Of course I am," he sighs. "I can't say no to him, love."

You shift upward so you can sit side by side with Seungcheol. Both of you have yet to put on any clothes, but you’ve at least gathered your bearings enough to form coherent words now.

"You can't say 'no' to any of them," you tease as you press a gentle kiss to his cheek. There's an almost blinding affection in your tone as you say, "You and your goddamn boys."

Seungcheol reaches out, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you closer to him. Briefly, he presses his lips against your hair. His eyes are almost tender as he speaks.

"They're my boys," he says, his voice soft.

You let the words hang there for just a moment. It’s an admission, one that both of you have known for the longest time, but it's also a reminder. It’s the reason why you and Seungcheol can never be more than this—because he has his boys, and he would never do anything to jeopardize them.

You press your face against the column of his neck for just one more precious moment. You’ve never been selfish about Seungcheol, but there were nights when you thought about it. Just… thought about it.

The thought never wins.

"Let’s clean up, get dressed," you whisper into his skin. "So you can head to the company sooner."

He lets out a soft, almost painful exhale. He knows what you're thinking, what you're feeling; he's thought about it himself, as well. He hates having to leave you, hates having to say that he has to leave you. But his boys are his boys, and one day all this will be over, and then...

He can't think about it right now, though.

Instead, he nods, pressing a light kiss to your temple. "Yeah."

It takes about ten minutes or so for you both to gather everything together. Seungcheol still looks tired, though for different reasons now. He’s essentially traded one exhaustion for another.

As he puts on the shoes he left in your entryway, you lean against your doorway with your arms crossed over your chest. "I’ll be holding you accountable for my pajama set," you warn him. "And for tomorrow’s noise complaint."

"Yeah, yeah," he huffs, taking a step toward you. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten."

His face softens as he reaches you, his hands coming up to grab your elbows, gently pulling you closer to him. "Sorry," he says. "Again."

 "You’re not sorry, " you sigh pointedly, more out of spite than anything. It’s the truth—he’s not really that apologetic about losing control every now and then, about your neighbors knowing you’re being pulled close every so often.

When you bury your face into his chest, he lets out a low, gruff chuckle, his chin resting gently against the top of your head. His arms wrap around you, holding you tightly against him, just like every single time before.

"You’re right," he murmurs. A quiet, affectionate admission. “Not sorry. Not even a little.”

He holds you there against him, his eyes fluttering shut as he allows himself just a few more moments before he has to leave. You both stay there, allowing yourselves that moment, until the tension in Seungcheol’s shoulders fades and your annoyance at your torn pajamas ebbs. It could’ve been five minutes, maybe less, but then Seungcheol’s phone pings with a text—surely Soonyoung asking if he’s found his headset.

You’re the one who takes the step back, putting some distance between you. "Drive safe," you tell Seungcheol. "Text me when you’re there."

Resigned. That’s the only way to describe the smile that tugs at his lips. "Yeah," he says. "I will."

True to his word, Seungcheol does indeed send you a text about an hour or so after he'd arrived at the company, informing you that he was there and had found Soonyoung’s headset.

He's still exhausted, and all he wants is to be back. Back inside of you, back with you. But he can't do any of that. At least, not right now. Not at this point.

I miss you already, is the only other thing he adds to his text.

Your text comes in only moments later, like you had been waiting by your phone. 

you're a fool. head home. take care.

A soft sigh escapes him the moment he reads your text, his eyes flickering over the words you'd typed, the harshness of it. It's another layer of protection for the both of you, but it's still not easy to read.

He's about to respond with something snarky, some light-hearted joke to tease you a bit, but he stops himself at the last moment. He knows that you're right.

He needs to head home. He needs to take care.

And he’s an absolute goddamn fool, in more ways than one. 

[hannieehaee]

you said in your svt with an older s/o that mingyu gives the vibe to be with milfs so,,,,, mingyu with a milf maybe? with her cute baby (p.s. stepdad!gyu!!!)

18+ / mdi

content: youngerbf!mingyu, stepdad!mingyu, you have an infant from a previous pregnancy, cute fluff with the baby, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), etc.

wc: 1364

a/n: i know nothing about babies but i hope i did well with this hehe<3

masterlist

"babe, have you seen lola's pacifier? i swear i've looked everywhere! she won't fall asleep tonight if she doesn't get at least half an hour with it before bed," you huffed, continuing to search at every nook and cranny if your apartment.

but you received no response from mingyu. and strangely enough, there was no noise in your apartment at all, opposed to the usual babbles or cries of the tiny resident of your home.

this would worry many others, but you knew the very logical explanation for this. you knew that the moment you walked into your baby's nursery, you'd find the dreamy image any woman would kill to have in their home.

and surely enough, as soon as you opened the half-closed door, you came face to face (or more so face to back) with mingyu's frame as he cradled your baby in his arms.

his gigantic arms dwarfed the tiny baby more than you thought possible, but his hold was nothing but delicate. the swaying of his arms provided her with the perfect motion to ensure she remained calm as she fell asleep. it was when he turned slightly that you managed to see that she was not fully asleep, but instead on her way there as she suckled on the pacifier you'd been searching for earlier.

"she's almost asleep, i think," he whispered when he sensed your presence. he turned to you then, baby still in motion in his arms, "am i doing this right?"

his time with the baby was not a new thing, but he still often worried about messing up. mingyu loved kids, but he had never loved one as he loved your lola. he was also slightly intimidated by the difference in experience between you. despite this being your first and only child, he believed your age simply made you wiser when it came to taking care of lola.

you continuously assured him that he was more than perfect with her, but mingyu, being mingyu, would still chuckle and deny it.

it was sometimes hard to decide whether lola or mingyu was the most adorable.

"you're doing perfect," you reassured, "here, let me take her so i can put her to sleep," you went to take her from him, feeling bad that he'd been taking of her on his own while you cleaned up dinner.

"can i- uh, can i do it?", he asked.

it made you smile. and of course, you concurred.

it took a few minutes, sneakily removing the pacifier and setting her to sleep on her crib. you remained at a close distance, but still allowed mingyu to do all the work on his own. the visual was one that went straight to your heart. your appreciation for mingyu grew impossibly bigger every time he showed his selfless love for your daughter.

your steps were quiet as you left the room, setting up the baby monitor before exiting with quiet hums of affection towards your daughter. once in the living room, you couldn't help but give gyu a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek to reward him for being so good.

in response, he held your hand as he led you to your bedroom, closing the door behind him as he sat you on the bed.

it wasn't done with any implications in mind, but they still invaded you when he began to casually change into his pajamas in your presence. you simply sat there and watched as he did so.

"you're amazing with lola, you know that? watching you makes me wanna pull out a ring," you joked.

mingyu chuckled in return, shirt off momentarily as he grabbed for a tank top, "don't. i already have plans for that."

"oh?," you stood up, walking over to him and halting him as he attempted to pull up some pajama pants, "you've got plans?"

he caught onto your drift immediately, "can't tell you, or else i'll ruin the surprise."

"can you give me a sneak peek, then?"

your hands wrapped around his shoulders while his let go of his pants and locked on the small of your back, a wolfish smile invading his lips.

"well, no, but i can give you a sneak peek of something else."

and then he kissed you, teasing completely thrown out the window.

it was soft in nature, the way in which he kissed you. you could tell he was tired, holding you in a way that screamed exhaustion mixed in with some neediness. his lips invaded yours in languid smacks until he led you back to the bed, sitting you as you'd been before.

before you could say anything, he knelt, pleading eyes betraying his large frame as he silently asked you to make space for him between your legs.

once they were opened, his hands pushed them even further apart, mouth leaning down to kiss at the skin revealed by your loose pajama shorts.

"'m tired, baby. but i still really really wanna make you feel good," he mumbled after a few pecks to the skin, "i'll probably wake up horny, but that's a problem for tomorrow.

"i'll take care of your problem, angel, don't worry. now just keep doing that ..." your words trailed off when his hands snuck under both layers of clothing, blindly finding their way to your sensitive bits.

"fuck, so wet, baby. were you expecting this?", he teased, "lemme get these shorts off, okay? wanna see it up close."

you lifted your hips to aid him, soon finding yourself unclothed from the bottom half and deciding to throw off your shirt to match. mingyu smiled from under you, biting his lip at the sight.

"you make it hard not to fuck you."

"then do it," you challenged.

"first thing tomorrow, i'll have you on your hands and knees, baby. but for now, i have something else i need," and those were his last words before his head lowered and joined the circling of his fingers, opting to sneak in a finger while his tongue took over in playing with your clit.

you gasped, hands digging into the duvet under you as an almost automatic reaction. but mingyu whined at this. something about wanting you to pull his hair instead. and who were you to deny him?

"taste so good after a long day, shit," he mumbled between swipes of his lips, "need to do this every night."

you encouraged him as your legs attempted to close around him and your hips begged to cant into his face. he was good at warding these things off, but more often than not, he welcomed them. it showed him how desperate you were for him even as he gave into you, he'd once said.

"shit, baby, keep going. gonna cum, fuck," your breath hitched and sped up at the same time. your body felt like it was on fire. everything was on edge.

"i know, baby, just, fuck, don't scream this time, okay? don't wanna wake up my baby," he said so naturally, knowing that you truly saw her as his own.

it was a strange dichotomy of emotions, both awe and arousal, but it made your orgasm all the better. your love for mingyu combined with your need for him made you see stars. your body didn't pay any mind to the boy beneath you, taking what it needed from him as he kept attacking at your cunt, knowing the sensitive sensations afterwards always made your eyes roll back.

it took a few moments after the fact for you to catch your breath, but your boyfriend had already managed to find a damp rag to clean you with in the meantime.

"knocked you out again, huh? i'm pretty good at putting people to sleep, i've been told," he snickered when you swatted your hand at him jokingly.

"suddenly he's the expert."

"hey, your words, not mine."

within a few minutes, he managed to get you tucked under the covers and into his arms with the same ease as he'd done with lola less than half an hour ago, providing you with a kiss to your temple as he adored doing to her too.

[entirelysein-e]

『 Faking it 』

☼ synopsis: you fake an orgasm and they notice so they punish you

☼ characters: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Toji Fushiguro

☼ wc: 1.0k

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, creampie, thigh riding, hair pulling, mentions of fingering and masturbation/toys, degradation (reader being called "bitch", "pet"), pet names, mean!Toji

☼ notes: once again I am daring you to comment and / or reblog to let me know your thoughts 🫶

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Geto:

✧ You were just exhausted from the day and somehow your head was everywhere but in the moment, despite wanting nothing more than for your boyfriend to rail you like he was doing

✧ Geto had you on all fours before taking a fist full of hair to pull you up against his chest and you could feel his hips stutter

✧ Not wanting him to hold back you just faked it - giving it your best act

✧ He scoffed and pushed you into the mattress, your hips still high as your head got buried in the surface beneath you, but he pulled out right before he came, letting his seed shoot over the globes of your ass and lower back

✧ You pout at that “you promised to cum inside tonight,” you whined and heard him chuckle while shaking his head

✧ “Only good girls get filled with my cum - and you certainly aren't one,” he hissed before releasing your hair from his tight grip and you knew that he knew

✧ Before you were able to explain yourself to him he patted his thigh, his back resting against the headboard “If you still want to cum you gotta work for it,”

✧ You were pouting but yes, yes you wanted to release so badly, unsure why you even faked it but this was your punishment now

✧ You straddled one of his thighs, his hands having a death grip on your hips to rut you against his leg at his desired speed - slow and with barely any pressure, making sure to let you suffer

✧ “Go ahead, love, thank me for helping you,” He hummed, a playful smirk on his lips

✧ Without thinking much, you started thanking him for being so generous, for helping you to find pleasure. It made you feel so ashamed of faking it but that's exactly what he wanted

✧ “Keep up this slow pace, be a good girl and i might even slip a finger into your cunt,” He breathed against your ear, knowing how much you love to ride his fingers

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Gojo:

✧ Gojo knew something felt off when your moans weren't the same, sounding rather fake so it came as no surprise when you faked it

✧ You don't even know why you did it, things just didn't feel as intense or like you're gonna release any time soon and hoped he wouldn't notice - bot oh he did notice

✧ He just continued as if he didn't know and finished a short while later but rolled off right away, a playful smile on his lips and that's when you knew that you're fucked

✧ “Have fun finishing yourself off then,” He hummed unbothered, that teasing smirk only getting bigger when he saw your mortified face

✧ “Didn't think i would notice, hm bunny?” He asked amused before turning to face you, his head propped up on one arm

✧ You felt like a deer in headlights under his mocking gaze along with his teasing and somehow you really hoped he would help you release

✧ But Gojo wouldn't be Gojo if he wouldn't be a menace, slender fingers dancing over your skin, always close but never touching the areas where you needed him so desperately

✧ “Is my cock not good enough anymore? Do you need your own little fingers now? Maybe even your adorable toy? yeah, i know of your little secrets,” He teases relentlessly, making you flustered but so turned on

✧ “Go ahead and touch yourself for me… let me see,” he giggled, wanting to guide your movements with his voice now

✧ He wouldn't touch you in order to help you, that was your little punishment

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Toji:

✧ RIP to your little kitty

✧ Why you thought faking it is a good idea? Maybe because you know exactly how mad he gets after

✧ It hurts his ego more than anything that he can't satisfy you to the point where you see it necessary to fake it but you love how he reacts - so you do it anyways

✧ Tojis hips slow down in pace when your walls don't grip him like a vice as they usually do and with one swift movement he manhandled you into a mating press

✧ “Think I'm too dumb to notice, angel? Let me teach you a lesson,” he growls while he pushes your legs tightly against your chest, his cock now deeper than before which made you whimper

✧ “That's what I thought. Crying for me like a bitch in heat,” he continues to degrade you but this is a punishment, you're not getting it the way you want it

✧ His pace is now oh so slow, far too slow for your liking but you feel the tip of his length drag against your walls and brushing against all the right spots which made you lose your mind

✧ You were now stuck, folded in half between your lover and the mattress while he tortured you with slow thrusts, a mischievous grin painted on his face that screamed victory as his degrading words fell from his lips

✧ You were a mess by the time he was done with you, far too overstimulated and every drag of his cock along your walls borderline painful

✧ "Who knew my baby can only cum when degraded into nothing but a hole for me to fuck," he chuckled before pulling out so you won't get the satisfaction of being filled by him

✧ Toji came over your face just to degrade you some more “go clean yourself up. You're such a mess,” he ordered but waited for your return

✧ When you were back in his arms he hummed softly “did you learn your lesson now, angel?”

Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[purple-plum-petals]

Hi!! I love your homicipher fics! Have you thought about writing nsfw hcs? Specifically for Mr. Crawling and Silvair? I hope your night / day is going well! :)

⊱ Mr. Crawling and Mr. Silvair ⊰ || NSFW Alphabet (A-Z) Headcanons

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Character(s): Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silvair (Homicipher/文字化化, Separate) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns, No Sex-Specific Genitalia is Mentioned but it was Written with an AFAB Reader in Mind) Warning(s): 18+ Content, Virgin Asexual Author, Cum Eating, Facials, Minor Objectification, Cuckoldry, Mutual Masturbation, Face-fucking, Sexual Fantasies, Tickling, Praise/Degradation Kink, Breeding Kink/Creampies, BDSM, Overstimulation, Orgasm Control/Denial, Dumbification, Dacryphilia, Hair-pulling, Light Impact Play, Light Breathplay, Implied Cunnilingus/Blowjobs, Cock Warming, Mention/Discussion of Sex Toys… If I missed anything, please let me know! Genre: Headcanons, Smut (Minors Do Not Interact), Fluff Word Count: 7,200 words Request: “Hi!! I love your homicipher fics! Have you thought about writing nsfw hcs? Specifically for Mr. Crawling and Silvair? I hope your night / day is going well! :)” Author’s Note: I’m still very much working on getting better at writing spicier content, and I had no clue how to start writing these kinds of headcanons from scratch, so I went ahead and just filled out the NSFW Alphabet for both Mr. Crawling and Mr. Silvair as a jumping off point! It’s definitely interesting to think about how both of these characters would be in a sexually intimate setting, especially since – at least in my mind – they’d be quite different from each other in a variety of aspects even if they did have some overlap on a few of the points. I did my best to keep each of their headcanons at a similar word length (which was kind of hard to do with my Mr. Crawling bias, but I think I accomplished it haha). Anyway, I hope you enjoy these headcanons! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

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A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

👣: Mr. Crawling is immensely clingy after having sex, holding onto you and pretty much refusing to let go as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck or your hair. While he doesn’t want to get up from the bed or leave after the two of you have been intimate, if you’re hungry or thirsty or if you want to go take a bath, he’s happy to go fetch you something to restore your energy or help you to the bathroom to clean up. He’s quite good at aftercare, even if he doesn’t realize what he’s doing counts as it. Mr. Crawling just likes making you feel good, and he wants to keep you safe and happy! His favorite thing to do is help you bathe; he enjoys the way the warm water feels on his skin while he washes your back for you. 

💉: Mr. Silvair isn’t too affectionate after the two of you are intimate, but he’ll check up on you and ask if you need him to get you anything. If your wrists were rubbed raw from the restraints he had placed on you, he would make sure to carefully wrap gauze around your irritated skin. If you were thirsty or hungry, he would locate something safe for you to consume to get your strength back up. If you feel sticky or gross afterward, he’ll carefully wipe your body with a wet cloth to make sure you are clean and comfortable. He lets you sleep and typically goes about his own business. Sometimes, though, Mr. Silvair finds himself watching over you to make sure you’re breathing steadily, carefully combing his fingers through your hair. 

B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

👣: Mr. Crawling doesn’t have a favorite part of your body since he honestly enjoys every aspect of you but, if he had to choose, he loves your hands. He knows that they can hurt people and cause a lot of pain, but he loves the way they feel when you cup his face to softly caress it or whenever you thread your fingers through his hair. For himself, Mr. Crawling loves his hair the most (I know it’s not technically a body part, but I think it makes the most sense for him); he pretty much melts whenever you play with it, and his head is quite sensitive, so he blue screens whenever you pull at his hair or rake your nails across his scalp. I also feel like Mr. Crawling would be proud of his arms since they’re fairly toned considering they’re his primary means of getting around. Because of his impressive strength, despite what his thinner frame may portray, he’s able to hold you up and move you around with relative ease (he 100% can manhandle you, but only will if you’re cool with it). 

💉: Mr. Silvair finds every aspect of your body fascinating, and he could probably explain why each part of you was interesting from a medical perspective or that everything was pleasant to look at in one way or another. If he had to pick a favorite part of your body, though, he would have to say it’s your head (I know, kind of weird, but he does appreciate your intelligence and, well… Ending 06 is my other piece of reasoning haha). Specifically, though, he likes your mouth. He enjoys being able to hold your head in place while your jaw hangs open, all while he just goes to town while you drool and choke around his cock. Don’t worry, though – he’ll find some remedy to lessen the soreness you feel in your throat afterward. For himself, he’s quite proud of his hands. Mr. Silvair is skilled at many things, and being able to make you come undone with his fingers alone makes him feel a sense of power (plus, you called them pretty once, and it made him feel good). 

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

👣: Mr. Crawling gets extremely flustered whenever he sees his cum on any part of your body, from your hair to your face to your stomach. The sight of it alone on your skin makes his brain short-circuit and body flare up – it only makes him want to touch you even more. He likes being able to clean you up, too, leaning forward before he runs his tongue along your body or face, making sure there wasn’t a single drop of his cum left on you (even if now it meant you were covered in saliva…). He doesn’t mind tasting himself, but it most certainly doesn’t compare to your flavor. 

💉: I probably need to ask you to stay with me on this one, but I think Mr. Silvair would probably keep your cum stored away in a sample tube or something along those lines, having a desire to run tests on it to see what he could create. Views your cum as a valuable resource in his research...yay? Maybe he could even use your release to invent some kind of lubricant since that’s not easily accessible in the other world and make having sex much more streamlined… or he just keeps it around to show you later and see your reaction to the fact he keeps your cum stored away in his laboratory to tease you. 

D: Dirty Secret

👣: The thought of taking you in public, in a space where no one but you could see him, makes his mind race and his body feel like it was on fire – this man can act like a feral dog sometimes. I mean, even you sometimes forgot he was there, unable to see his form unless you concentrated hard enough, so imagine if the two of you went out somewhere in public and he (with your consent, of course), just started touching you? Groping your ass, his face between your legs as he runs his hands along your inner thighs… no one can see that it’s him making your face flush and not the excuse of a fever you told the concerned stranger in the hopes they would leave you alone. When you half-heartedly glare at him to try and get him to lay off for a bit, he just laughs at your expression… how rude!

💉: Mr. Silvar wouldn’t be opposed to having a threesome with another resident of the other world. After all, he would be curious to see how differently you acted when another person was there with the two of you, or if your body reacted in an unlikely way if another were to touch you. While I will not write NSFW for Mr. Chopped (the power dynamic there isn’t my favorite thing in the world), he would be the one Mr. Silvair would feel most at ease sharing you with; Mr. Crawling or Mr. Hood would be his second and third choices respectively since he knows how deeply you trust them. He might not even partake in sex either, just sitting off to the side while he lets another use you like a toy. As long as you know your his, though, he doesn’t mind watching you enjoy yourself with another (he has to be there, though). 

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

👣: Mr. Crawling has absolutely zero experience with this kind of stuff, so he would need someone willing to walk him through the whole process, show him what you like, and teach him what and what not to do. What he lacks in experience, though, he makes up for in pure enthusiasm. It’s quite flattering how determined he is when it comes to making you feel good, even if it’s a bit sloppy and unpracticed. His thrusts are extremely unpredictable, never quite finding their rhythm… It’s alright, though; he’ll definitely get better with more time and the more he gets to understand what your body likes. You just have to give him the time to improve, and he’ll be certain to leave you breathless. 

💉: Mr. Silvair also has no experience when it comes to sex, or at least not any while he’s resided in the other world. He is a life-long learner through and through, though, and there’s nothing in the universe he’s not willing to learn about, especially if it has to do with humans and their anatomy. His thrusts are frighteningly accurate, being able to hit your most sensitive inner spots with ease to have you begging him to give you a moment to breathe. He’s an almost terrifyingly fast learner, too, being able to apply whatever new information he’s observed and gathered within moments. He can do it perfectly, too, and he does it in a way that has you questioning whether he was telling the truth when he said this was his first time doing anything like this. 

F: Favorite Position

👣: When it comes to favorite positions, Mr. Crawling loves being able to hold you close to him while also being able to see your face (he has to kiss you during sex – sorry, I don’t make the rules). He enjoys the rocking horse position since it allows him to be able to hold you close while still being able to maintain eye contact with you and easily have access to cover your face in kisses. While he prefers being the one making you feel good, Mr. Crawling would also enjoy the cowgirl position. He’s happy to let you use him to your heart's content while being able to look up and soak in the pleased look that’s plastered across your features while you slam your hips up and down on his cock. 

💉: Mr. Silvair personally enjoys the butterfly position, having you lay on your back atop his operation table all while he can watch and take mental notes on every single facial expression you make and every single twitch of your muscles while he drives you absolutely insane. He would also enjoy missionary, but he would spice it up a little bit by having your hands or wrists tied to something. After all, he doesn’t want you to touch him unless he says you can – just lay there quietly while he completely wrecks you with that annoyingly calm expression on his face. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy when you touch him, though. Mr. Silvair simply prefers being the one in charge and determining when and where you’re able to feel his skin beneath your hands. 

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)  

👣: Acts goofy most of the time during sex, even if he doesn’t mean to. He likes being able to make you happy, and he finds your laughter to be music to his ears. Sometimes you two will be having sex, and he’ll suddenly start giggling completely unprovoked, just finding the experience with you so joyful. Being with you in any capacity makes his chest feel light and fluttery as a sense of giddiness flows through his veins. He’ll wrap his arms around you and nuzzle into your neck, causing your body to spasm and tighten around him while his long hair drapes over you and tickles your skin. Overall, Mr. Crawling enjoys being more playful when the two of you are intimate since it adds to the overall experience for him. 

💉: Prefers to be serious while having sex. He treats the whole process of intercourse like one would treat a research project which, honestly, can make you feel a bit annoyed in some instances (Mr. Silvair still doesn’t quite understand why, though). He’s methodical in everything he does, and being light-hearted or purposefully humorous isn’t high on his list of things to do. He has no problem if you want to be silly, however. He finds it cute when you try to see if you can make him chuckle. It endears you to him more, and it makes him want to keep you around for even longer. The only goofy thing he does is gently run his fingers up and down your sides while thrusting into you, finding the way your body wriggles and writhes away from his touch to be adorable. 

H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

👣: I think Mr. Crawling would have fairly long hair beneath the metaphorical belt. His pubic hair would be thick, curly, and a very dark shade of black. He doesn’t really keep himself groomed (kind of hard to do in his world, plus it was never a priority for him), but if you would prefer him to keep it trimmed, he’d be happy to! He doesn’t care one way or another. 

💉: Mr. Silvair comes off to me as someone who would enjoy keeping themselves groomed and their appearance well-maintained, and I mean every inch of his body. I think he would have either no pubic hair or pubic hair that was trimmed to be the perfect length. If he did have any hair below the belt, it would be a gray color, one that was a shade darker than his regular hair and wavy in texture. 

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

👣: One of the more human-like members of the cast when it comes to his affections; he’s as romantic as a non-human being can be. Mr. Crawling loves holding you close as he ruts into you like a wild dog, whispering praises against your skin. He even tries his best to learn phrases in your language so he can tell you how much you mean to him without you having to try and decipher it. He’s always so, so soft with you when you two are having sex. He’s honored that you’d let him have you in such a way, and finds your trust in him heartwarming – he trusts you, too, with his entire heart and soul. 

💉: Mr. Silvair canonically doesn’t comprehend the concept of “liking” or loving someone, so that also translates into sex with him. All he knows is that he finds you entertaining to be around and that he’s somewhat endeared to you at this point. He’s not romantic but, in between teasing you and making you cry (whether it be in frustration or overstimulation), he’s checking in on you to make sure that you’re still comfortable. He knows sex can be invasive, and he’s aware of how much regard the act is held in by some people in your world, so he does his best to respect that... Even if he does need to check himself every now and again. 

J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

👣 and 💉: Neither of them masturbates much because they simply don’t have a desire or time to do so. Mr. Crawling would rather wait for you to be there so you two can enjoy yourselves together, and Mr. Silvair simply has more important matters to attend to. That’s not to say they never masturbate, though, it’s just typically a rare occurrence. 

👣: Mr. Crawling typically masturbates by rutting up against something, like a pillow, rather than taking himself in his hand. His thoughts before meeting you were just focusing on the physical sensation of his cock sliding against the fabric of his clothing, but now he finds himself thinking of you – the way your voice sounds when you coo sweet words in his ear, the warmth of your body. Imagining your hands gently touching his chest and hips makes him cum right then and there, almost embarrassingly quickly… Yeah, he’s down bad. 

💉: Mr. Silvair treats masturbating as a chore. He’d much rather be doing something else than leaning against the wall of his operation room while his hand goes absolutely ham on his dick. He knows which areas on his body get the most reaction, so he purposefully presses all of his buttons just so he can be done with it quicker. This doesn’t change after meeting and getting to be intimate with you, though, he still sees it as a chore… Just now he imagines cumming on your face or inside you whenever he finally reaches his climax. 

K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)

👣: 

Mutual Masturbation: He likes spending time with you and doing things together, so why not spend some time watching each other explore yourselves? He likes observing you as you touch yourself, making mental notes of every spot on your body that have you biting your lip and furrowing your brows. While I wouldn’t say he’s into voyeurism since he does like being with you while you touch yourself instead of tucked away in the shadows just watching, he focuses more on the way your hands touch and caress your skin instead of focusing on the way he moves his hands across his body. Doesn’t last very long doing this, though, eventually pouncing on you and touching you himself.

Overstimulation (Giving): Mr. Crawling loves overstimulating you, even if he doesn’t realize he’s doing it half of the time. He just enjoys seeing you become a blabbering mess all because of him; he takes great pride in being able to make you feel good. However, the first time you started crying because he was simply giving you too much, he felt so guilty – the poor man was on the verge of tears thinking he made you feel bad. 

Praise Kink: While praising you is a bit more difficult considering the language barrier and the limited amount of words and phrases he has to choose from, he still loves doing it. Muttering against your skin how you’re doing such a good job, how he loves you so much, how you make him so happy. Mr. Crawling definitely makes sure to reassure you both inside and outside of the bedroom. 

Hair Pulling (Receiving): He loves, loves, loves it whenever you take his hair in your hand and give it a firm tug. Mr. Crawling enjoys it whenever he’s going down on you and you take his hair into your hands and push him even closer, making him become fully immersed in your scent and taste. 

Sensation Play: While Mr. Crawling may not enjoy more painful experiences, he does like general sensation play quite a bit. He likes the feeling of your breath fanning against his skin while you pepper his flesh with gentle kisses and nips. He enjoys tickling you while his hips sensually thrust in and out, feeling the way you squeeze around him as breathless and airy giggles escape past your lips. He loves whispering into your ear while running his tongue along it before taking your lobe between his teeth and lightly tugging.  

💉: 

Breeding Kink/Creampie: Mr. Silvair, after learning more about human reproduction, has a deep-seated curiosity regarding whether or not the two of you would be able to have offspring. That’s kind of what starts this particular kink for him – he wants to know if you both are sexually compatible in that aspect, and he is curious what the resulting child would look and act like if they were born in the other world. If you’re unable to give birth or get pregnant, even if his initial interest in breeding is certainly from a more scientific aspect, he still finds the image of you full of his seed while it drips down the curve of your ass to be quite arousing. 

Bondage/Shibari (Giving): He enjoys tying you up and pinning you down, being able to have full control over you in the bedroom. He’s perfectly content if you agree to light bondage, like having your hands restrained, and would never ask you to do anything more than that. However, if you trust him enough and feel comfortable doing some more intense bondage, he’s not going to complain. Would definitely be interested in the art of shibari, finding the way the rope looks pressing into your skin tantalizing. 

Orgasm Control/Denial (Giving): Another kink that feeds into his desire for control. Mr. Silvair enjoys being the one in charge of your release, and he likes seeing how far he can push you until you finally break and plead for him to let you cum. He loves seeing how stupid and desperate he can make you, sometimes with just his fingers alone. 

Overstimulation (Giving): Much like orgasm control/denial, he likes pushing you to your breaking point. However, unlike the previous bullet, he likes seeing how much stimulation you can take until you’re crying for him to stop. He thinks it’s fascinating, seeing how quickly your desire for his touch can change – one moment you’re begging for him to touch you, and the next you’re weakly pushing his hand away. He does eventually relent, of course, but only after letting you cry for a bit. 

Dacryphilia: There’s something about seeing your tear-streaked face that makes it feel like he’s just been hit with an arrow in his chest. It’s endearing and oh-so cute the way you look while you sob all because he’s making you feel that good. It makes him feel proud, in a way, seeing you in such a pathetic state all because of him. 

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

👣: He enjoys having sex with you on a bed (boring, I know), but he likes the softness of the mattress and the many pillows and blankets that can be used to bring even more comfort by keeping the heat from your bodies trapped. He also likes taking you in small, enclosed spaces, like an empty locker or cabinet (sorry folks with claustrophobia). Much like the reasoning with the bed, he likes how the smaller space forces you both to be immensely close to each other. Plus, these spaces bring him comfort, so why not mix the two things that make him feel safe together? 

💉: Either in his laboratory/operation room or in one of the many different cages or prison cells that he has access to (bonus points if you allow him to chain you up hehe). Mr. Silvair doesn’t need a soft mattress or pillows to enjoy sex with you. He’s fine taking you on his operation table or the cold concrete floor of the small prison cell, even if your back moving up and down across the ground rubs your skin raw. He’ll patch you up after, no worries, but he doesn’t need a lot of bells and whistles to have an enjoyable time. 

M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

👣: Sweet words and gentle touches. The other world is one full of violence and death, one where survival trumps all else. While there are entities like him who only resort to violence when either their safety or the safety of someone they’re fond of is in danger, it’s still not a happy or bright place to exist. Mr. Crawling does what he can to enjoy life, laughing in situations that probably aren’t even that funny just to try and make existing more enjoyable. Then you come along and make him feel cared for – loved – and safe, and he’s never been happier. Being able to lay with you, to feel you clench around his cock with your warmth while you pepper kisses across his face and let him know how good he is… Yeah, this is the life. 

💉: Power and control. He enjoys being able to restrict your movement, being able to dictate when and where you’re allowed to cum and, if you disobey him, he’ll punish you with a sadistic smile on his face. However, he would be lying if he said that was all. Mr. Silvair thinks the fact you trust him with your safety – your life, your heart, your existence – gets him going, whether he realizes it or not. Trusting another in the other world showcases how much two people believe in the fact the other would not do anything to purposefully harm them, and you feel that way toward him (and he feels the same toward you). Whenever you call out his “name,” the one you had given him, he finds his hips unconsciously moving even faster at the sound...

N: No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

👣: Anything involving pain would be a hard no for Mr. Crawling, both giving and receiving. Even though his senses are dull and what would be extremely painful for a human wouldn’t be for him, he still doesn’t particularly enjoy being harmed. When it comes to hurting you in any way, that’s pretty much something he will never concede on. He doesn’t want to do a single thing to hurt you, even if it’s an enjoyable kind of pain. 

💉: Pretty much nothing is off the table for him – Mr. Silvair enjoys experimenting, and that’s no different for him in the bedroom. The only extremely hard no would be coprophilia since he just doesn’t see the appeal nor does he want to test to see if he would like it or not. I also feel like he wouldn’t necessarily want a bratty partner or a partner who is constantly trying to take control back in the bedroom. 

O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

👣: Loves giving oral 101%, and he will give it to you anywhere – in public, in private, while you’re sleeping (with your consent, of course). Mr. Crawling adores having his mouth on you, being able to taste every single part of you while his tongue forces its way inside you, feeling your release dripping past his lips or dribbling down his chin… You taste good, too, better than anything he’s ever had before; he might get addicted to it, to be honest. He eats you out/blows you like a man starving, wanting a chance to have a taste and make you cry out his name while you pull harshly on his black locks and encourage him to keep going. He’s very enthusiastic about it, too, putting in so much effort and energy to get you cumming on his face or in his mouth. 

💉: Prefers giving oral over receiving it, but it’s not his favorite thing to do either way. It’s nothing personal, he just prefers using his hands, his cock, or a toy to get you off rather than his mouth. If he does allow you to give him a blowjob, he’ll place a collar around your neck and pull on the chain if you get cheeky – after all, he’s the one in charge here. Mr. Silvair enjoys making you kneel in front of him, watching you with a small smile as you take him into your hands and pump once or twice before taking him into your mouth. If the rare occurrence happens when he gives you head, you better thank the universe. He looks so hot, holding your thighs apart while he slowly runs his tongue along your length/slit and teases you until you’re asking him to touch you more. 

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)  

👣: Enjoys the slower and sensual side of things, but he typically can’t control himself as soon as he’s inside of you, so he ends up being somewhat fast and rough (not all the time, though... his thrusts remain immensely unpredictable no matter what, and he never seems to find a good rhythm to follow). Mr. Crawling enjoys the intimacy of sex, and he finds comfort in the closeness of your bodies while you two are connected at the hips. He loves being able to hold your hands and place kisses across your cheeks. Sometimes, he’s so caught up in the act of showering you with words of praise and sweet displays of affection that he forgets the fact he’s currently inside you and is supposed to be moving. He does see the appeal of rougher sex, though – it makes him feel almost animalistic whenever you two decide to set the pace for the night. 

💉: Mr. Silvair can quickly switch between the two, sometimes almost at a break-neck speed, to the point it feels like you got whiplash from the sudden change of deep and slow thrusts to fast and somehow even deeper ones (he’s very precise when it comes to hitting those sweet spots inside of you – it’s actually kind of terrifying how quickly he can locate them). He pretty much does whatever he thinks will get the most reaction out of your body and acts accordingly – nothing more, nothing less. He tends to prefer rougher and faster sex, enjoying the noises the quick snap of his hips can draw out of your mouth. However, sometimes, he finds himself preferring a slower and softer pace. This way, he’s able to focus on and truly soak in the expression on your face and appreciate the way your body feels under his palms (this sometimes just leads to you cock warming him). 

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)  

👣: Mr. Crawling is down for anything at any time. Pretty much, if you ask him to have sex, he’ll happily do it for you. Need him to eat you out or give you a blowjob, he’ll gladly oblige! After all, he is always pretty much kneeling, so he’s not being made to go out of his way to do it (even if he would go out of his way to please you). Want something more than just his tongue? That’s perfectly fine, too! There’s a private room over there he’ll gladly take you in, or maybe you’d want to try doing it in the empty locker? He’ll try not to take too long, but it’s hard since he loves being able to enjoy you to the fullest. So, Mr. Crawling can do quickies for sure, but he likes being able to take his time with you.  

💉: While he’s not opposed to quickies, he prefers being able to have proper sex with you to get the most out of it. After all, he can’t exactly see how long it takes for you to break or how much time it takes for you to start crying and babbling if you only have a few minutes to enjoy one another. However, he does make it a little challenge for himself to see how quickly he can get you to climax. Mr. Silvair will even make educated guesses on how fast you’ll finish just by making note of your current expression, body language, etc. He likes seeing how flustered you get if you think someone is going to enter the room the two of you are in, begging him to go faster which only makes him want to slow down – how mean! 

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)  

👣: Mr. Crawling is down to experiment but, as stated before, he doesn’t want to try anything that causes him or you harm, even if pain is something you enjoy. He just has no desire to hurt you in any way, something which is quite different from other members of the cast who are definitely more sadistic (cough, Mr. Silvair and Mr. Machete, cough). I feel like he would be down to partake in certain aspects of BDSM, specifically B/D (bondage and discipline) and D/S (dominance and submission). He just wants to have a good time and be close to you, both physically and emotionally. 

💉: 100% down to experiment with anything (except the previously mentioned coprophilia). If you wanted to try some breathplay or impact play or even blood play, he’d be down for it. I honestly think he would enjoy breathplay since it adds more to the differential in power that he enjoys so much (there’s also a stirring in his chest when he sees how much you trust him with your life, but shhh…). Mr. Silvair is a man hungry for information and new experiences, so yes, he’s willing to try a variety of different things even if they could potentially be dangerous – he’ll always make sure you return to your original form. 

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

👣 and 💉: Both of them are inhuman, which means that neither of them need any food, water, or rest to survive. Honestly, the two of them have unlimited amounts of stamina, and they can go for as long as you need them to (which could be two rounds or even eight – nothing is holding them back in the stamina department). 

T: Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

👣 and 💉: Neither of them owns any toys because, well… you can’t access them easily in the other world. If they do end up there, though, they’re probably dirty or damaged beyond repair (please do not use nasty sex toys, people – infections and diseases are no joke). 

👣: Mr. Crawling would be down to use toys on you! After all, why not? It’ll just make the experience more fun, right? You’ll probably have to explain what he’s supposed to do with them, though, since he’s not quite sure what some of them are for. If you want to use toys on him, he’s completely fine with that! Want to wear a strap and give him backshots? Go right ahead! Want to tape vibrators to him until he’s whining and writhing? He’d be happy to oblige! Overall, he’s pretty chill about it and is somewhat enthusiastic about adding toys into your sex life. 

💉: Mr. Silvair enjoys using sex toys on you, some of his favorites being cock rings/chastity belts, strangely-shaped dildos, and vibrators. He loves being able to secure the variety of different vibrators he owns to your body, making sure to cover every erogenous zone he’s noted. He doesn’t typically want toys used on him (but he’d probably try out a variety of different sex toys on himself after a while, though, curious about how each of them felt or what they did), however, and the only one he’d be willing to use consistently would be fleshlights. He’d make you watch him use it, never once allowing you to use them on him. 

U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)

👣: Mr. Crawling is very fair, and he always makes sure to give you exactly what you want in the bedroom. However, that’s not to say he never teases you, he just doesn’t do it very frequently. Sometimes when he’s going down on you, he’ll pause his minstrations to nip at or kiss the fat of your thighs, keeping your hips held down so you can’t buck up against his mouth. When you start getting antsy, he just giggles at your expression before returning his attention to that oh-so-needy part of you. 

💉: If the word unfair was personified, it would be Mr. Silvair. I’d argue teasing you and making you cry – either because you can’t cum or have cum ten times in a row – are the aspects of sex that he enjoys the most. Edging you is one of his favorite things, though, watching you whine and try to move your hips on your own when he stops moving… bad move, though, because now he’s just going to make you wait even longer for release. 

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

👣: He’s not loud, per se, but he does make quite a variety of different noises whenever the two of you are intimate. He whimpers and whines frequently while you’re having sex – they’re barely audible, high-pitched, and come out sounding as though he’s completely out of breath. Sometimes you wonder if he’s in pain with the noises he makes, but he’s not. He just really enjoys being able to feel you like this as he pants like a dog in heat. 

💉: Completely quiet most of the time. Really, the only noises you’ll probably get out of him are barely audible sighs or the sound of his breathing hitching when he feels you stretch/tighten around him. It’s not that Mr. Silvair doesn’t enjoy having sex with you, he just doesn’t express that feeling verbally. You can tell in the way his hand squeezes the fat of your thigh or the way his hips stutter when he moves in and out that he’s having a good time. 

W: Wild Card (Random headcanon)

👣: Mr. Crawling loves taking showers or baths with you, though he leans more towards baths since it’s less painful on his joints (I headcanon that Mr. Crawling can stand, but walking for extended periods of time is painful for him – ambulatory wheelchair user Mr. Crawling when?). While yes, he can technically sit in the shower, having water spray his face isn’t exactly pleasant… He doesn’t view bathing with you as sexual, he just finds it relaxing as he helps you wash your back or you help him make sure all the soap is out of his hair. His favorite scent would have to be lavender – it’s very calming for him. 

💉: He keeps a journal tucked away full of terms and gestures from your world. Mr. Silvair has a deep desire to understand humans and everything they have to offer, even if he believes it's from a stance of craving knowledge (really, he wants to be able to express his endearment of you in a manner you can understand). He has a page on kissing and different kinds of kisses, a page on gestures of endearment, another on hugging and cuddling… The fact that humans’ bodies release a hormone whenever they simply spend time to bond with another socially, a hormone that turns the dial on their brain for whatever emotion they’re currently experiencing, is fascinating to him. 

X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

👣: Mr. Crawling is tall – and I mean extremely tall whenever he stands up (my man has got to at least be seven feet), so I can assume that he’s probably relatively proportionate under the belt. I feel like he would be big, almost concerningly so, clocking in at around 8 inches in length. Even though his size is impressive, his dick doesn’t have much girth to it and is on the thinner side, but it is thicker towards the base compared to the head (not that you can take all of him – you can certainly give it a try, though). It’s on the veinier side, too, with a very distinct and present one on the underside of his cock. 

💉: Much like pretty much the entire cast, Mr. Silvair is also on the taller half of the height spectrum. However, I feel as though he would have a more modest, yet of course still impressive dick size. I imagine him to be 6 ½ inches in length and relatively thick from the base to the head with very little change in girth. Whenever you see his cock, you’re kind of awestruck for a moment because how can a man have such a nice-looking dick?? It doesn’t make sense! There’s barely any hair, there’s no visible veins or bumps, and it’s long and thick enough to drive you wild… Plus, it’s just really nice to look at, honestly. 

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

👣 and 💉: Okay, so I know others probably will not agree with me here… but I honestly don’t think anyone in the cast has much of a sex drive, let alone a high one. I mean, they’re not human, so their cultural/social norms are different than ours, and I wouldn’t hold them to “typical” human desires on a biological/psychological level either. As I said before, I doubt any of them have been laid because sex just isn’t something the residents in the other world partake in – they’re too busy killing/fighting others, eating humans who find themselves lost in the other world, etc. Is this my asexual and world-building brain working? Probably haha. 

👣: Mr. Crawling really only wants sex whenever you want it, but he’s always enthusiastic and does get aroused whenever you ask if he wants to be intimate. While he does love feeling the warmth around his dick whenever you’re clamping down on him, almost like you were hugging him and not wanting to let him go, he enjoys the emotional connection during the moment more than anything else. I headcanon him (and all of the cast, to some degree) as existing somewhere on the aroace-spectrum. For Mr. Crawling, I see him as being reciproromantic/sexual with an average libido – he gets riled up whenever you’re riled up, though there are times he does get horny without you needing to do or say anything.  

💉: Much like Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silvair will have sex if you ask him to – he’ll make you beg for it, though, so he’s not as nice as the former. He prefers the control/power he gets from having sex rather than the sole act of intercourse (not to say he doesn’t enjoy the feeling, though). Plus, he finds the activity interesting since he knows it’s something most humans partake in with one another for a variety of reasons, from procreation to recreation. If you ask him to have sex and he isn’t in the mood, he’ll just use his hands or some toys and play around with you until you’re satisfied. I headcanon Mr. Silvair as being quoiromantic and eegosexual with a low libido. 

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

👣: Mr. Crawling doesn’t need to sleep (you know… being non-human and all), but he’ll curl up next to you on the bed and hold your body close to his while pretending to sleep alongside you. It’s kind of adorable, the way his head is nuzzled under your neck while his legs and arms are wrapped around your body, holding you close to him like you were a bodypillow or large stuffed animal. While you sleep, though, he’ll eventually place his head against your chest, listening intently to the sound of your heartbeat and the feeling of your chest rising and falling with each breath. Moments like this, laying there with you in silence, make his mind wander to scenarios with you he’ll never be able to fully experience. 

💉: Does not rest often, finding it a waste of time that could be spent doing something else. He understands you need your sleep, though, so he lets you do it in peace after you both have had sex. Mr. Silvair always manages to somehow make sure you have enough pillows to keep you comfortable or blankets to keep you from getting cold (you can’t help but wonder where he finds clean linens in such a grimy place…). Occasionally, however, he finds himself sitting next to you on the bed, fingers absentmindedly combing through your hair before he pulls his hand back as though you had burnt him – he doesn’t understand it, and he’s desperate to figure out an answer. 

[cherrygirlfriend]

office visitations pairing: wife!reader x ceo!rafe synopsis: wife!reader goes to visit rafe at work for lunch warnings: smut, breeding kink, praise, soft rafe, talk of pregnancy, fluffy ending MDNI - wc: 2k IT'S MY BIRTHDAY which means this is the last day of my birthday celebration! i had so much fun writing these fics and i hope you enjoyed them as well!

everyone on kildare island wondered how rafe cameron of all men had managed to land you; sure, he was rich and good looking, but in figure 8, that was nothing. but somehow he had, and only after six months of being your boyfriend, he had asked you to marry him; no one knew that he had been looking at rings after your very first date.

you were basically his opposite; the sweet, girl-next-door pogue who no one ever had anything bad to say about, while he was known to lash out at whoever was in the wrong place in the wrong time, but after meeting you, he was obsessed.

rafe was sitting in his office, just having finished up a board meeting, those always stressing him out, paperwork piling on his desk, his cup of coffee having gone cold already.

there was a soft knock on rafe's door, and he rubbed his forehead, letting out a small scoff; he had told his secretary to not let absolutely anyone to come bother him. he looked up at the door, letting out a cold and detached, "come in." knowing that his secretary would be looking for a new job.

but as soon as he saw the familiar pair of eyes playfully peek into his office, it was like all the tension slowly rolled off his shoulders. "hi." you said with a smile that was so bright and sunny rafe was sure it could've melted down an icecap. "can i come in?"

rafe cleared his throat, standing up from his chair, "yeah, of course." the man smiled, running a hand through his mussed-up blonde hair as you stepped into his office. you were wearing a long, flowy sundress, carrying two cups of coffee and a bag of something, "what's this?" your husband asked amusedly, his head nodding toward the bag.

"i brought you some coffee and croissants." you said, placing the things on his desk and turning to him, "i knew you're always stressed after board meetings. i would be too, if i had to sit around with a bunch of old guys for an hour straight listening to their issues with you or whatever you do." you chuckled, straightening the collar of his button-up.

"you know just what i need." he groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, tilting his head down so he could nuzzle it into your neck, breathing in the floral scent of your perfume while you let out a small chuckle, your eyes closing as you held him, stroking his back.

he pulled back, looking down at your dress with a small grin, "did you wear this for me?" he asked, feeling the fabric inbetween his fingers, "it looks great."

"thank you. my husband got it for me." you said playfully, giving him your left hand. rafe took hold of it, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand before looking at your engagement ring.

"he has great taste. in women, in clothing, and in jewelry."

you laugh softly, shaking your head and rolling your eyes, until rafe took your chin inbetween his pointer finger and his thumb, forcing you to look up at him, the man admiring the way your eyes twinkled, moving his hands to rest on your waist again. "you look so gorgeous."

"and you look very handsome." you said, tugging him down into a kiss, your lips on his immediately causing rafe's head to buzz. rafe's hands slowly slid down to your ass, grabbing at the flesh through your summer dress, pulling you closer while one of your hands was on his chest, and one of your hands was on the back of his neck, short blond hair meeting your soft palms.

you pulled away from the kiss breathlessly, keeping your forehead and nose pressed to his, your breaths mingling together while your eyes were closed.

"i missed you..."

"you saw me this morning." rafe mumbled, one of his hands traveling to your cheek, cupping it in his hand while his thumb stroked your soft cheek.

"does that mean i can't miss you?" your brows raised with a chuckle, the hand that had been resting on his chest was now tugging his button-up out of the trousers they were tucked in, rafe letting out a small groan when he felt your warm hand slowly trail up the line of his abs, "you know, i realized something…" you practically purred into his ear.

"yeah? what'd you realize, sweetie?" he asked, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck, pressing small kisses on your warm skin, causing shivers to run down your spine, goosebumps starting to form all over your body.

"i'm ovulating." you whispered with a grin, before pulling back to see his reaction. rafe lifted his head, looking at you with half-lidded eyes and a small grin, his hands sliding down to rest on the curve of your ass.

"mmhm, 's that the case?" he asked, he shamelessly looking down at your tits, rafe's adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, your fingers starting to unbutton the buttons of his shirt, revealing more and more of his tanned chest, shivers running down his spine when he felt your manicured nails on the skin that you were slowly baring. "i guess we should take advantage of that, then."

you let out a small squeal when your husband lifted you into his arms without any difficulty, carrying you to the other side of his desk. rafe sat down on his chair, positioning you so that you were straddling him, his calming cerulean eyes gazing up into yours.

your hand moves to the nape of his neck, fingers gently playing with the short tendrils of hair there as you gaze down at him, the hint of a smile playing at your lips. rafe brought his hand closer to your face, his fingers curling under your chin, bringing your face to meet his, the sides of your noses pressed against one another, breaths mingling together before his lips brushed against yours.

and soon, rafe's shirt hung unbuttoned on his broad shoulders, your panties discarded on his desk, your body still mostly covered by your dress, his slacks and boxers at his ankles. the thumb of his left hand brushed against your hardened nipple over the fabric of your dress, a small gasp escaping your lips as your soaked entrance hovered over the tip of his cock, practically aching to sink itself down on him.

"you ready?" rafe whispered under you, pressing a featherlight kiss on your clothed nipple, and somehow even that was enough to make you dizzy; you couldn't speak, simply nodding, his hands slowly crawling up from the sides of your thighs up your dress until they were on your hips, rafe's touch so hot you thought he might leave burn marks. slowly, he started bringing your hips lower, a long drawn-out whimper leaving your lips when you finally felt rafe stretch you out; you'd been together for a long time but every time his cock entered you it felt like the first time.

even though you were the one straddling him, rafe was the one doing all the work. slowly, he lifted you up, before bringing you back down, your head thrown back, lost in all the bliss you were feeling, his lips attaching themselves to your neck, pressing soft kisses on your pulse point as you let out small, soft laughs when you felt his stubble on your skin.

although his lips moved away from your neck, rafe continued moving you on top of him by your hips, briefly bringing one of his hands to cup your cheek, making you look down at him, your eyes hazy and glossed over from the pleasure he was giving you.

"you look so gorgeous like this..." rafe whispered, letting out a grunt as he felt you deliberately clench yourself around him, the corners of your mouth quirking up into an adorable, almost shy smile, your cheeks feeling warmer due to his sweet words.

he moved his hand back to your hips, continuing to guide you up and down on his cock, slightly picking up his pace, whimpers leaving your lips whenever he bottomed out in you, hitting that one spot like it was nothing, when for you, it felt like everything.

"so damn gorgeous..." he mumbled against your skin, and as one of rafe's hands traveled down to your pussy, his thumb starting to draw languid circles on your clit, you started moving your hips just slightly faster, every part of you screaming that you needed more of him, needed to feel every part of him.

"please..." you whined, the tone of your voice making something in rafe's chest ache while also making the heat in his abdomen nearly double.

as his thumb picked up its pace, your head felt so beautifully blank; all you could focus on were the sensations running through your body, the fire he'd lit inside of you, and the orgasm you were already starting to feel approaching.

"please, i'm so close..." you whined, your words getting muddled with your moans.

your eyes were closed, unable to see the way your husband was admiring you, looking up at you with pupils blown so wide his blue eyes might as well have turned into the shape of a heart, and he continued bucking his hips up into you, both of you chasing your orgasms, the sound of squelching and moaning filling his office.

suddenly, he felt your walls spasming around his cock, your orgasm washing over you as you held on tight to his shoulders, your body shuddering with pleasure, moans leaving your lips without you even realizing it was happening.

rafe watched as you came undone, continuing to move inside of you even though your walls felt snug around him, the man starting to feel a familiar tightening in his abdomen.

"'m so close..." rafe mumbled, not even sure if you could hear him through the bubble of bliss you seemed to be encased in. "gonna come in you... gonna put a baby in you... you're gonna look so gorgeous with my baby in you..."

when you let out a soft whimper, trying to move yourself on his cock even though you were still riding out his orgasm, rafe groaned, burying his head in the crook of your neck, loud whines leaving your lips when he fucked into you at a faster pace, rafe almost losing himself in you and the way you felt around him, knowing he'd never get enough of you, never get enough of having you like this.

it didn't take long until he let out a loud groan, and you felt ropes of his cum filling you, moving your hips slightly to make sure he was as deep inside of you as possible, the closeness feeling almost intoxicating.

neither one of you spoke for a while, and the only noise that could be heard in his office were the pants that slowly turned into regular breathing, and finally when it had settled, you pressed your forehead against rafe's, taking a deep breath.

you felt rafe's hand on your cheek, his thumb stroking the soft skin there, and it was like he was reading your thoughts; sometimes the way he knew you intimidated you, just because the thought of ever losing that scared the hell out of you.

"it's gonna happen." he said comfortingly, opening his eyes to look into yours, and you pulled your forehead away from his to do the same. you brought your hand to your abdomen, looking down at it while letting out a small sniffle, your tone laced with insecurity, "you think so?"

rafe pressed his hand over yours, and you wondered how someone could know exactly everything you thought and needed, his large, ringed hand somehow managing to soothe every single thought running through your mind.

"i know so, and i'm never wrong, am i?" he grinned smugly, making you roll your eyes, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

[verstappenverse]

The Price of the Podium

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: In the relentless pursuit of racing glory, Max faces the emotional fallout of missing an important weekend in his relationship, leaving your future uncertain.

1.5k words / Masterlist

Max's heart raced as the engine of his RedBull roared beneath him. The familiar hum had become a source of comfort, a steady rhythm that guided him through countless laps and countless victories. But today it felt different—a harbinger of an approaching storm that threatened to dismantle everything he held dear.

The season had been merciless. Each race had been a relentless pursuit of perfection, each lap a battle against time and competitors. Max understood that this world demanded sacrifices but lately the weight of those sacrifices had become different.

When Max glanced at his phone during a fleeting moment of respite his stomach dropped as a surge of guilt swept over him. A string of missed calls and urgent messages from you filled the screen, each one more desperate than the last.

Hey, can you please call me when you get a chance? I need to talk to you.

Max, you’re really starting to worry me. I don’t understand what's going on?

It’s been three days since we spoke properly. Can you at least let me know you’re okay?

Max’s gaze fell on the calendar, he had promised again to visit your extended family this weekend a significant step for you both that had been previously filled with excitement and anticipation. Your family were eager to meet him, and Max had been looking forward to it as well. But now, with the punishing schedule of the season, he was struggling to find even a moment to breathe, let alone make the trip.

He knew he was being a coward, but it was easier to avoid the situation than confront it directly and risk letting down the person who mattered most.

As Max approached the racetrack for another testing session, the weight of his choices hit him like a sledgehammer. He was about to miss an important milestone in your life together and he didn't think you'd be so forgiving this time.

His mind was full of conflicting emotions. He wanted to be there for you, to prove to your family that he was serious about your relationship. But the world of racing had a way of consuming everything in its path leaving no room for personal commitments.

The testing session was a blur. Max’s driving was flawless, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The track blurred into an endless ribbon of asphalt. He pushed himself to the limit, hoping that the adrenaline would drown out the guilt gnawing at his conscience.

Finally, the session ended. Max’s team were in high spirits celebrating the improved performance. He barely registered their enthusiasm, his mind was occupied with the image of you waiting for him in a small town, wondering why he had not shown up. He could picture you there, waiting for him, checking the clock, wondering if he’d even bothered to leave. And it wasn’t just about this weekend—it was about every missed call, every text he hadn’t answered, every promise he’d let slide.

The moment Max stepped out of the car he took a deep breath and pulled out his phone. He dialed your number hoping against hope that you would answer. After a few rings your voice came through the line tinged with weariness and frustration.

“Max?”

“Hey, I’m so sorry. I know I’ve been out of touch.”

“Out of touch? You’ve been completely absent! I was supposed to introduce you to my family this weekend. It was important to me.”

“I know. I wanted to be there, but things just got out of hand here. I’ve been trying to make time, but…”

“But what Max? You keep saying you’re trying, but you’re never here. There's always an excuse.”

“I’m really sorry, I’ve been working so hard this season...I thought I could make it work, I just…”

“You know what? I don’t want to hear more excuses right now. You’ve missed something important to me again, and it hurts. I needed you here, and you weren’t.”

The silence on the other end of the line was heavy, almost unbearable. Max could feel the pain that you were struggling to mask, like a knife twisting in his gut. It cut him deeper than any criticism he’d ever faced on the track.

“Please. I know I messed up, I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“Make it up to me? I don’t even know if that’s possible anymore. This wasn’t like the other times when you just forgot or lost track of time; you made the choice not to come. I’ve tried to be understanding—I know how hard this season has been, and I know how much time and dedication it takes. I never wanted to undermine that. But I don’t know how much longer we can do this. I get it, you have to make tough choices sometimes, and I’ve done my best to support you, to step back and let you focus on your goals. But it’s happening too often now, and it feels like every time, you’re choosing this..this life over us. Over me. Every single time.”

Max’s throat tightened. He wanted to argue, to explain more, but he also knew that he couldn't keep making excuse for his absence, and he couldn’t bear to hurt you anymore. He’d run out of explanations, out of promises he knew he couldn’t keep. He wanted to say something, anything to fix it, but he could hear the finality in your voice. You’d reached a breaking point, one he’d seen coming but had been too afraid to acknowledge.

“I don’t know what to say,” he finally whispered, the words feeling hollow even as he spoke them.

The silence stretched on.

“I understand if you need space.” he murmured, barely able to get the words out, blinking back tears.

Your voice was barely a whisper throat locking up, it felt like he was giving up. Was this even worth fighting for if he wasn't?

Then, in a voice so small it broke his heart all over again, you whispered,“You’re right. Maybe space is what we need right now.'

The line went dead, leaving Max alone in the garage. The celebration of the session’s success felt hollow. The echoes of the track still rang in his ears mingling with the ache of your absence.

In the days that followed Max tried to bury himself in the upcoming races, hoping that the endless rush would drown out the regret gnawing at him. He avoided reaching out to you honouring your request for space. Each day felt like an endless rotation of driving, media commitments, and sleepless nights. The thrill of racing was overshadowed by the growing distance between you and him.

You had always been patient and understanding of the demands of Max’s career. You had supported him through the highs and lows, celebrating his victories and comforting him through the losses, but it hadn’t been enough. Each missed call and unanswered message chipped away at your resolve. You couldn’t keep repeating the same cycles and expecting a different result. The weekend you had planned for Max to meet your family was meant to be a milestone, a step toward a future together. Instead, it felt like a crushing disappointment.

You replayed the conversations you had with Max in your mind, trying to reconcile the man you loved with the absence he had become. You had pictured this weekend as a chance for Max to understand the importance of your family, to see the life you had outside of his world. The hurt and frustration you felt were compounded by a growing sense of doubt—doubt that maybe this life of constant motion had created a rift too wide to bridge.

You needed time to process the hurt, to focus on yourself and figure out where to go from here. The support you had hoped for seemed distant and unreliable, and the future you had envisioned together felt uncertain.

Loving him had been a beautiful dream, but you knew it was time, you hesitated just a moment before hitting send.

Max,

I need you to know that I’m not angry anymore. I’m just… tired. I need to focus on myself right now.

You

Max read the message over and over, his hands trembling. The message was brief and seemingly final. The reality of your words sank in, there was no dramatic declarations, no harsh accusations, just a simple statement of exhaustion, a quiet resignation that tore through him. He wanted to call, to beg you to come back, but he knew it was too late.

As the season drew to a close, Max stood on the podium, the roar of the crowd a distant echo, his gaze searching as if somehow he’d see you there. The trophy was in his hands, but it didn't feel like he had expected. He looked out over the crowd searching for a sense of fulfilment that seemed to elude him, it all felt like ashes without you beside him.

Max only thought of you as he stood amidst the celebrations, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that in the pursuit of his dreams he had sacrificed something far more precious, and wondered if there was a path back to what he had lost.

[moonstruckme]

hi love I like all ur fics!!! Ur most recent emt Maurader made me realize tho we don't always get to see Sirius being vulnerable so what about a fic where may be he's having an off day? Or runs into a cousin and they completely ignore him and he tries to act like it doesn't bother him and just reader comforting him and giving him space

Thank you for requesting angel!

cw: allusion to past abuse, discussion of toxic workplace dynamics

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Sirius gets home from work early. You’re in the bedroom, stomach-down on the mattress with your book in front of you. You hear the front door open and come out to greet your boyfriend, but your smile falls when you see him. 

Sirius’ face is red. He doesn’t usually color when he’s upset, so you take it to mean something that he has now. He steps on the back of his shoe a couple of times before he manages to get it off, stomps on the back of the other even more harshly. You think he might be shaking. 

“Sirius?” 

He flinches. Turning around, his expression twinges with some mix of emotions at seeing you, too muddled to parse apart. He seals them all away quickly. 

You take a step towards him. “You okay?” 

“Yeah.” It comes out hoarse. Sirius clears his throat. “Yeah. Just a shit day at work.” 

“You’re home early,” you note. 

Sirius nods curtly. You think maybe that’s that, but his expression is conflicted. 

“Do you wanna sit down?” you ask gently, going to the couch and hoping he’ll follow. He does. It’s a challenge not to reach for his hand, to pull him closer or offer some kind touch, but the stiffness about Sirius’ frame hints that it may not be well received right now. 

When he’s still silent after a moment, you say, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I could make tea and we could just relax.” 

Sirius shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he says, tersely, like he might be trying to convince himself more than you. “I think I’m probably going to be fired, though.” 

You feel your eyebrows go up. 

“I…you know how I got a new boss a few weeks ago?” 

You nod mutely. 

“Right, well, she’s got a temper. At least a couple times a week I’ll hear her shouting at someone in her office and she’s already managed to fire from almost every team.” Your dread mounts as Sirius goes on, speaking faster now that he’s on a roll. “She called me in after lunch. I fucked up something in a report—I hadn’t checked it and it had gotten sent out with the error—and she was pissed. She screamed at me—really screamed, stood up and got red in the face and all that—for probably ten minutes before she sent me back to my desk. And I just came home.” Sirius lets out a dry chuckle. “If she doesn’t fire me, I might quit.” 

“You should, baby.” Your voice pitches with dismay, hurt and outrage for him warring inside you. You take a chance and reach for his hand. Sirius fits his fingers between yours instinctively, something seeming to loosen in him at the touch. “I can’t believe she really shouted at you. No one deserves that, least of all for a silly error in a report. She should be fired for that.” 

Sirius gives you a little smile, but it dissolves at the edges, watery. A cavity opens in your chest as his eyes grow shiny. 

“Baby.” 

He shakes his head, jaw clenched. Blinking. “Sorry,” he says roughly. “I never used to do this.” You feel your face pinch with sympathy. He means cry, you know. Sirius as an adult is more emotional than he was as a child, but you still rarely see him cry. “She just—she sounded just like my mother.” 

Realization comes like a blow to your middle. “Oh, my love,” you say breathlessly, moving to put your arms around him. 

Sirius usually hugs with his whole being. He throws himself into it, with force and purpose and his own rough brand of caring. So you’re used to letting him take the lead, but now, when his arms come around you hesitantly, you’re the one who applies the pressure. And Sirius melts against you. 

You cup the back of his neck in one hand and squeeze between his shoulders with the other, imagining your love pouring out of you and into him through your palms. Sirius is quiet, but you feel a couple of hot tears transfer from his chin to your shirt. You worry he’s holding his breath. 

“Sirius.” You say his name with all the tenderness you can summon, afraid of him hearing echoes of his mother’s voice. “I’m so sorry, lovely. You never, ever deserve to be shouted at that way.” 

“Even if I told you I left your favorite mug at my office?” he jokes weakly. 

You let him go. There aren’t many tears to brush off his cheeks, and you make short work of them, soothing your thumbs over his face just for the sake of it. Surprisingly, his complexion is less agitated than it had been when he’d come in. He was holding it in, you realize. 

“Don’t ever let me speak to you like that,” you say.

Sirius’ expression sobers. “You wouldn’t. I know you wouldn’t.” 

“Really. Leave me if I talk to you like that, I’m serious.” 

“No, that’s me.” 

One side of your mouth tips up without your consent. “Bad joke.” 

Sirius mirrors you, grinning halfheartedly. “You think you’d have learned to evade it by now.” 

You gather that he wants things to be light now. That’s okay. You know Sirius has a difficult time with the truly heavy emotions—anger is an instinct for him, but tears and sorrow he’s never known what to do with. You’ll talk about it more over time, in bits and pieces where he’s comfortable. And just because you’re letting it go now doesn’t mean you’re done coddling him. 

You let your hands coast down from his face to either side of his neck, massaging gently the tension in his shoulders. “Did you really bring my favorite mug to work?” 

Sirius’ smile goes a tad sheepish. “Yes?” 

“Why would you do that?” 

“Because it makes me think of my most favorite sweetheart when I get coffee from the break room,” he says, smarmy. “Also, it was the first one I saw when I went to grab one from our cabinet.” 

You smile at him. Sirius pretends at facetiousness, but you know the first reason had been the genuine one. 

“What,” he asks, “you didn’t notice it was missing?” 

“No, I did. I only thought you’d broken it.” 

“And you weren’t going to say anything?” 

“What’d be the point?” 

A soft, intimate look comes over Sirius’ face. “I don’t deserve you,” he says, gray eyes raw and quiet, “do I?” 

You match his tone. “Of course you do, lovely. You deserve better than me, it’s just I’m what you’ve got.” 

“Mm, there’s another way you’re not allowed to speak.” He wraps his arms around you, pressing a heavy-fond kiss to your hairline. “I won’t have any of that talk.” 

“I’ll trade you that for the jokes about your name.” 

“No, I don’t think so. You’re going to have to work a little harder, doll, I’m not giving those up so easily.”

[livwritessometimes]

At Least One Of Us Got Our Happy Ending

: Part 15 (Lando's Version)

: Spring Fling is finally here…that’s a good thing right?

: Prev | Next

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note - You can refer to Interesting *Cue Evil Laugh* to get the context for a certain part.

…

As Y/n and Lando watched Oscar pull his girl in for a kiss, she couldn't help but join some of their friends in hooting for the new couple. It was nice to see Oscar finally be with the girl he'd madly been head-over-heels for—Y/n could recall countless conversations they'd had about this. Smiling at the scene, she felt Lando pull her close to him, his hand resting on her waist.

"Should we get back to the table?" Asked Lando

Looking away from the scene in front of her, Y/n nodded at him and started leading him to their table.

There sat Max, one of Lando's friends who he constantly played games with, and his date.

Taking a seat, Y/n said, "It's so nice to see Oscar finally be happy."

"It is! I'm glad he came today," Lando said, looking at Oscar.

Max laughed to himself, leaning back against the chair he said, "I guess it's nice when things work out the way they're supposed to, huh?" He said, looking at Lando.

Lando narrowed his eyes at Max, "Max..." He said in a warning tone.

Confused by the exchange Y/n asked, "Wait, what's that supposed to mean?"

Max shrugged casually, taking a sip from the flask he had snuck in, "Oh, it's just funny how it all started you know? I just didn't think you guys would actually make it," Max finished.

Lando could feel his heart beating faster, "Max," He said again this time with hint of anger.

Y/n couldn't help but tense up, looking between Lando and Max. "What does he mean by 'How it started' Lando?" She asked.

"Oh nothing, you know how I am, I love to talk nonsense," Max said realizing that he might have said a little too much.

"Lando...What does he mean by that?" Y/n asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando sighed deeply, his mind racing as he tried to find the right words. He felt angry—angry at Max for opening his mouth when it was not needed, angry at himself for agreeing to do such a stupid thing.

"Y/n..." He started, his voice hesitant. Reaching out for her hand, he said, "It wasn't supposed to mean anything...I had no idea that I would actually fall in love..." He said. He could see the dread wash over Y/n's eyes.

*flashback*

*present*

Y/n felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. All hope and dreams for an amazing night disappeared in an instant. She sat there in silence as she let Lando's words sink in.

"So I was just a 'Dare'?" She asked, still in disbelief.

Lando avoided her gaze, his throat feeling dry. "I—I never imagined that it would turn into this," He said. "At first, it was just a stupid dare, I was just angry about the complaint, but I never thought that..." Lando's voice trailed off. He was not sure what he could say or do to make any of it sound better.

Y/n could feel her eyes sting with tears, "So does that mean all this time, every single conversation we've had, every single moment we've spent together...It was all just a game to you?" Y/n said as tears trickled down her face.

"No!," Lando said suddenly, a little too loud for his liking. He tried to reach out for her hand, but she pulled away, "I didn't mean for it to be like that. It was just a dare at the start, I admit, but the more time I spent with you, the more I realized that I just couldn't continue. I was going to tell you, I swear Y/n," Lando said. "I just didn't know how...." He trailed off again.

"So if you hadn't "fallen in love" with me, would you have still gone through with your plan?" Y/n asked, her voice a mixture of anger and hurt.

Lando opened his mouth but no words came out. He didn't have an answer. Deep down, he knew that no answer would make things right. The damage had already been done.

Y/n stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Congrats!" She spat, her voice filled with bitterness. "You've won your stupid dare. I really hope it was worth it Lando," she said as she started walking towards the exit.

"Y/n please wait!" Lando pleaded.

"NO!" Y/n said, finally letting go of the emotions she had been holding onto till now. "Don't you dare follow me. You've lost the right to do that," she said, her voice cracking at the end.

And with that, she made her way out of the hall, taking Lando's heart with every step she took.

…

Tags: @regalbanshee | @be-your-coffee-pot | @mrsbrxkkxr | @princessria127 | @moonraysandstars | @prettiest-at-the-party | @theblueblub | @magixpracticality | @slytherinholland | @overlyexcitedoutlaw | @marvel-at-stucky | @crumbssss | @a-beaverhausen | @felicityforyou | @gigigreens | @jas0nluvr | @khaylin27 | @imsiriuslyreal | @cwiphswmwasohmm | @wobblymug | @e-nonsense | @raizelchrysanderoctavius | @papaya-twinks | @vintagefucksstuff | @st4rg1rln | @redstappen | @iamred-iamyellow | @tashisgf | @ghost-of-student-sufferings | @saachiep81 | @lozzamez3 | @ravisinghs-wife | @elizamoe133 | @anthonylockwoodandco111 | @formulaal | @luvsforme | @annabellelee | @a-disturbing-self-reflection | @emryb | @grovelingmen | @illicit-affcirs | @iwilleatyourgod | @youre-on-your-ownkid | @originaldreamerdragon | @landorris | @mountvesuvu | @chezmardybum | @littlegrapejuice | @spitesfvl-blog | @juleshadalittlelamb | @vicurious28 | @niyu2208 |

[malakandmasa025]

URGENT APPEAL !!!!

🍉🍉Save the life of the child Malak "who suffers from Down Syndrome"🍉🍉

Hello, my name is Doaa, and I'm reaching out on behalf of my beloved daughter Malak , who is a 3-year-old girl born with Down syndrome. Despite war hardships, Malak always had her safe haven - her home, where she received the care and attention she deserved.

However, the ongoing war in Gaza has turned our world upside down. We've been forced to flee our home, leaving behind everything, including her treasured belongings and familiar routines. As a child with Down syndrome, the upheaval and uncertainty of these drastic changes have taken a profound toll on her.

Life became very hard,prices have escalated, clean water is a dream.After displacing to the south ,and the destruction of our beloved house and the loss of all what we have ever worked for, we now live in a tent.With winter on the way,as a mum , I'm terrified on my daughter's health condition as she was born with a weak heart.No enough blankets, air is strong,cold is freezing.She is always sick.

It breaks my heart to see her struggle each day amidst the chaos of war. With medical supplies and necessities scarce in Gaza, it's become increasingly challenging to provide Malak with the care and support she needs and deserves. That's why I'm reaching out to you today.

No one knows what it truly means to face shock in complete silence,to smile in face of situations that invite tears,and no one realizes what it feels like to boil inside while standing at the peak of steadfastness.Behind this apparent strength lies a deep suffering that no one can grasp.My heart is slowly torn apart under the weight of suppressed pain.Life forces me to pretend to be strong,when apart of me fades away with each moment.I'm left with a bitter feeling of isolation and loneliness.Please don't leave my daughter alone face the struggle of the gloomy war, starvation,pollution and lack of medicine.

I'm starting this GoFundMe campaign with one simple plea: help us provide to Malak medicine and pampers.Your donations facilitate Malak's life;she can receive the medical attention and care she urgently requires Every donation, no matter how small, will make a world of difference in her  life.

Please, let's come together as a community and make her  life a little easier. Your kindness and generosity will not only bring hope to Malak but also provide our family with the reassurance that she is,to some extent ,safe and well-cared for. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your support and compassion during this incredibly challenging time.

The campaign was documented by @90-ghost

@gaza-evacuation-funds

@@90-ghost @nabulsi @theclowninghour @wetsweatgym @creating-something-stuff @kryaaas @gazavetters @gaza-evacuation-funds @gaddisjamiu @staff @ruffffffing @wetsweatgym @teresamerandi @gazikacmislaflar @equipo @palesttino

[thedoritodealerofthewoods]

OooHOOOHOO

Man

Copy pasting my thoughts from my ramble at the friend who showed this post to me because I'm satisfied with the way I put them. Spoiler warning for wof arc 1 below

How does this work? Does she know the prophecy is fake from the moment Morrowseer visits the cave to observe the dragonets? Maybe he wasn’t thinking about it well enough for her to realize he doesn’t believe the prophecy - “hmmm…. This one isn’t good enough. This one will work better. This one will accomplish the need very effectively-” could all be interpreted as someone who doesn’t trust in fate to do it’s own work. Maybe this annoys her, but the truth doesn’t register.

Or does she deny obvious “lol this thing isn’t real” thoughts with the certainty that he’s wrong. And maybe she hates him because of it right off the bat - though she might not tell the others exactly why beyond a potential cryptic “he doesn’t even know what he’s talking about!” To which she gets the average response of “lol alright Sunny. Anyway I want to punt him into the sky because he hates Glory” - !!! Right - iirc, Morrowseer tells the guardians to kill her, but to the side where the dod don’t hear him. (Can’t check atm cause cat on lap). Maybe Sunny gets all bolt-upright-shock at a certain point and starts frantically trying to convince everyone that Glory is in danger the second he leaves, before anything is overheard. They maybe think she’s overreacting, that of course he hates me Sunny I’m a rainwing and yeah but they wouldn’t go that far haha - but eventually the conversation is overheard and they all realize the truth and the escape kicks off (with the difference of Sunny being in on it this time - unless they maybe still think she might accidentally let something slip).

Also - the moment in the tunnel with Morrowseer fits a little too well to change at all. He opens his mouth to gloat, to tell them all the truth, and no, no, no! She’s pleading for him to stop before he speaks a word because she knows, she knows, and maybe she always has, maybe she should have seen it sooner but it’s the only hope the others have, the only reason they’re still trying and she can’t let them lose it. She can’t lose it. She can’t lose them.

Oh! Also - does she tell the rest of the dod? Probably not, I’d guess. Starflight would be crushed. As far as they all know till the last book, she’s just a weird SandWing. Not only did Starflight fail to have any powers, but she got both. Maybe she tried to tell them before it occurred to her that it might hurt him, but no one believed her. She’s just supposedly really good at picking up on stuff. Can’t hide anything from her.

Also - mindreading and foresight would only feed into the hyper-empathy. She’s so worried about everyone all the time because she can hear their pain, she knows what they’re worried about, she can hear their hopes and dreams and she can see the fates everyone tumbles through. When the dod eventually find out about her powers, I can see Tsunami probably saying something along the lines of “hey, if you can see in everyone’s heads, why did you still trust the guardians so much? Why do you still care about them? Why do you still want to help everyone when everyone is trying to KILL US!??” To which she simply responds that that is the reason.

thrice-moonborn sunny :)

[kentoxo]

friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt.9

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: prepare urself. next chapter may or may not be crazy. once again (the usual) spam of thank yous. all of your kind words both in replies and reblogs makes my heart sing. to those who said they want to be part of the taglist-- i reopened it! i might have missed those who recently asked to be on it so pls reply to this chapter so i can get you :( so sorry for my lack of meticulousness.

all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7, pt.8,

December | Tokyo, Japan | Saturday

You had to call out the following Thursday and Friday. 

The cold you manifested was wreaking havoc on your body, the constant shivering now straining your muscles and bones. You couldn’t even find comfort in your bed, as you’d sneeze and cough, or dash to the bathroom during the waves of nausea. You were grateful to not have gotten frostbite, but damn this cold bites! 

It was nice to have some space away from work, and Nanami. You deduced that this cold was inevitable, as the stress that loomed over since your confession (and second rejection). But this wasn’t fun either, as you could barely make yourself a cup of coffee while also having to answer Haibara every few minutes, who wanted to make sure you were doing well. It was bittersweet to say the least. 

As you cuddle your heating pad meant for your tummy, you begin to scroll carelessly on your phone. Although it was your day off, and you were sick, you often liked to check your work emails. You like to be extra prepared for Monday, as those were the days when you have bigger workloads to tackle. As you scrolled, you stumbled upon an email directly from Takada shacho. Before you could open it however, there was a gentle knocking at your door. 

“Coming…” you say weakly, quickly finding a mask on your bedside table. Comforting the straps around your ears, you make a slow walk towards your door. You get on your tiptoes to look through the peephole, only to back away in shock and slight embarrassment. “N-Nanami kacho? What are you… doing here?” You proceed to cough. 

“I came to check on you,” Nanami hums from behind the door. “I know you’ve been sick due to my shortcomings. I wanted to see how you were faring.” 

“A-ah, I see,” you stammer nervously. You were hoping not to see him until Monday, but luck still remains anywhere but your side. “You could have just called me as well…” 

“I felt… that it would be best to come in person,” Nanami begins shyly. The sound of plastic shuffling joins. “I, um, also brought some things to treat you. If it’s okay with you, may I please come in?” 

You go a bit pale, “um… I don’t really want to get you sick. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come in and–” 

“I don’t care. I’d like to see you, and make sure you are well.” Nanami interrupts you with a stern tone. His words sounded non-negotiable, and you didn’t want to [fuck around and] find out if you refused his entry. Reluctantly, you unlocked your door and slowly opened it, revealing the tall man before you. 

His hair was once again messy, lazily pulled back with his fingers. He was covered in snow,  of course, but had gloves on to protect himself from potential frostbite. You look down at his two large bags he got from 7-Eleven. You move out of his way and let him place the bags down. He closes the door behind him, and begins to untie his scarf from around his neck. As he did, you offered your hands out to take it from him. 

“Let me,” you offer in a hoarse voice. 

Nanami looks down at you, “you’re sick. Thank you, but I can hang it myself. Please feel free to go back to bed.” 

“A-ah, but you’re my guest,” you insisted through weak coughs. “My mom would reprimand me if she saw the way I was hosting you right now. I haven’t even boiled tea…” 

Nanami, now just in a sweatshirt and his joggers, quickly puts on his slippers and offers his hand to you. You look up at him confused. “Come and sit down,” he coos, taking your hand and guiding you towards your living room. He gently allows you to take a seat on the couch, which is quite the relief considering you were exasperating just from answering the door. 

Through small coughs, you watch as Nanami brings his bags to the kitchen, and begins to unpack them. He silently takes out a few vegetables and cartons of broth. A pool of pill bottles also leave the bag, along with other cold suppressants. “Can I,” you start hesitantly, your index fingers looping around one another, “can I offer you a cup of coffee?” 

“No,” Nanami shot you down quickly, “I’d rather you rest than concern yourself with me. Though, the offer in your condition is very touching.” 

Your cold now felt like a fever, as your cheeks went completely hot. You looked crazy, your hair and makeup undone. Your pajamas were ornate with little ducks, and you don’t even have tea prepared. And here was this effortless, handsome man in your house, with a pot in his hands and his eyes navigating your tiny kitchen. It was an honor to see him outside of his work clothes, as it still made your heart run. 

“Are there any vegetables you don’t like?” Nanami asks gently. 

You sit up promptly, staring distantly towards the pot that was now full of water and preparing to boil. “I’m not a big fan of daikon in my soup,” you reply awkwardly. “A bit too strong for me.” 

Nanami looks over at you and gives you a small smile, “I would have never expected that you didn’t like daikon, Y/N.” 

“In soup, I’m not a fan,” you quickly mend the confusion, “soups are meant to be calming, not crazy.” 

“Daikon makes soup crazy?” Nanami continues, amused by your detest. 

“It’s a bit much,” You exclaim weakly. “Just me personally, I can’t deal with all that sass.” 

“Sass?” Nanami finally lets out a chuckle, “what a way to describe a vegetable you don’t like.” As he cleans the vegetables he provided, he couldn’t help but continue to smile. “So this is what you’re like outside of work,” he whispers to himself. But your ears catch his words quickly. 

You feel your cheeks burn from shyness. But as you stared at the back of Nanami’s head, you remembered all the tears you’ve shed these last 2 weeks. Your heart still hurts, even while sharing a warm conversation like this. He was still the man who you confessed to, and broke your heart twice. You look distant towards your window, seeing the snow slowly fall over the city. 

“You don’t have to cook for me, Nanami kacho,” you say quietly, “you have done enough, so thank you. I can do the rest from here.” 

Nanami purposely ignores you as he begins to chop a carrot. “What do I have to do in order to stop you from calling me kacho?” Your neck snaps back to look at him, noticing Nanami’s seriousness from his side profile. 

You drop your hands to grip the end of the couch, squeezing it to calm you down. “You’ve made it very clear what kind of relationship we have. It’s inappropriate otherwise, so from your perspective, I should proceed with calling you kacho.”

“Y/N, please.” 

“Please what?” A bit of attitude left the tip of your tongue. You jump in fear. Just because you were hurt doesn’t change the fact that Nanami is still your boss. The man that signs off your hours. ”Ah, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to use that kind of tone. I just… think it’s best that we revert back to honorifics.” 

“I disagree,” Nanami hums from the kitchen. He begins to look through your spice pantry (which you were surprised he knew where to find it) and pulls out your pepper. “How spicy would you like your soup?” 

“You told me that you are my boss, and I am your assistant,” you repeated his words from the night before. “You want comradery but don’t see me as anything beyond your colleague.” You tighten your grip on your couch. “And...not so spicy, for the soup.” 

You were sick. Having to bring this conversation up once more was making you even sicker. 

“Y/N, I misspoke,” Nanami says firmly, closing the pot with a lid to allow the soup to simmer. He grabs a glass from your cupboard and goes over to pour water from the pitcher. Pouring the water generously, he makes his way over to you with a few of the pills he purchased. “Here, I have a few supplements you can take now. The painkillers will be for after you eat.” 

“I know how to take care of myself,” you murmur. Nanami takes a seat next to you, pouring the pills into one hand while carefully handing you the water in the other. Lowering your mask, you swallow the pills like morsels, and follow it with sips of water. “Feel free to go after this. Thank you for setting up the soup, I can take it from here.”

Nanami eyes your face, making you blush even more. You were thankful that you were sick, as the hue on your cheeks can be explained by your current health. Putting the cup down, you quickly busy yourself once more by taking the decorative blanket on the couch and covering yourself with it. As you did, a finger appears before your face. You halt, watching as Nanami begins to drag some sort of salve on your lips. His middle finger gently drags the petroleum-like substance against your bottom lip, before swiping the rest against your top lip. 

You could explode right then and there. Your nausea wave was a bit more intense, but more so from the intensity of Nanami’s gaze, and his touch against your chapped lips. Your heart was beating hard, and you couldn’t move. Like yesterday, you were frozen. His touch, despite his muscular stature, was gentle, soft. It felt like butter. 

“S-sorry,” Nanami immediately pulled his hand away. He quickly looks away from you, hints of pink at the edge of his cheekbones. “I overstepped. I’m very, very sorry Y/N.” 

“It’s fine,” you quickly spew, “just… wash your hands before you touch anything else or yourself. I would hate for you to get sick because of me.” 

“A-ah, right,” he concurs, quickly jogging to the kitchen to wash his hands. Drying his hands with a towel, he once again joins you on the couch. “I will admit, I didn’t just come here to care for you. I wanted us to… discuss more about our conversation the other night.” 

Here he goes. Opening a wound that is long but healed. “What else is there to talk about?” You say, coughing a bit to clear your throat. You felt light headed from how congested you are, especially since talking so much. And now, Nanami was forcing you to engage in a conversation that led to your feelings being hurt more. “We both expressed our feelings to one another, and came to the conclusion that our relationship should strictly stay as a coworker dynamic.” 

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” Nanami begins quietly. His eyes keep at your coffee table, with fingers weaving together slowly. He looks pensive, like he’s looking for the right words to say. But even within those thoughts, he was uneasy. “Hold on.” In a moment, he pulls off his sweatshirt, revealing himself in a black, skin tight shirt. This would be the first time you truly saw his physique, seeing as the shirt hugs into the dents and divots of his pecs and abs. The short sleeves give temptation to his muscular arms. His torso was enough to make any woman submissive. 

You look away, but still hold your ground, “if that is the case, then I’d like to apologize again for my feelings towards you. I’m working on letting them go so they no longer pose as a nuisance or discomfort for you. And if need be, I understand if you’d rather distant our work relationship, or transfer me back to Sales.” 

This is when Nanami faces you again, “Y/N, look at me.” 

His tone wasn’t aggressive nor strict, but you felt submissive to his request. You slowly turn, your eyes finding their way to his own. Hazel eyes bore into yours, and you noticed his bottom lip snug between his teeth. 

“That night when you confessed to me, I didn’t quite understand what it all meant for me,” Nanami begins quietly. He tightens his hold on his hands. “I’ve never really known what to do when people confess to me. But I was so used to not reciprocating those feelings that rejecting them was as easy as breathing.”

“You’re a little too good at it,” you let out, your heart jolting from the memory of the rejection. 

“And for that I apologize,” Nanami quickly spews, “not only for hurting your feelings, but for lying to you.” 

“Lying to me?” You felt your forehead going hot. “About what?” 

“About my feelings towards you,” Nanami’s tone hinted at a dash of embarrassment, “Admittedly, not even I knew I was lying to you until I finally gave it some thought.” 

You could only stare at him, trying to find some sense in his face. But as you stared at him, you noticed a break of conviction in his hazel eyes. His usual professional demeanor was absent, leaving you with a Nanami you’ve never met before. His confidence wavers, and before you was a red-faced, shy man. 

“Kento,” you begin, causing him to jump from his first name leaving your tongue. “I’d feel worse if you’re feigning liking me for the sake of making up with me. I told you, it is my fault for liking you.” 

“If you’re taking fault for that,” Nanami begins, his eyes diverting away from you, “then it is also your fault for making me like you back.” 

Huh? You felt hot, cold, and dizzy. His words were nauseating, and you were confident you were green in the face. Your hands and arms shake with nerves, goosebumps ornate all over your body. Before you could even utter another word, you feel yourself going faint. 

“Y/N?” Your name sounded distant. Before you knew it, your eyes flutter shut, pitch black surrounding you. 

Taglist:

@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000

@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn

@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist

@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw @ffyona1214 @phantombaby @evangel44xxcds

@ukiyodestiny @jasminelee324 @eurydxceorphxus @moonlightazriel @s3rp3ntsssc0ve

@dusty-dweller @wifenanami @bokuatsubro @ayesayman @starry-eyed--dreamer

[maybanksprincess]

toys with jj!

warnings: smut, rough jj, spitting in mouth, kissing, choking, hair pulling, squirting.

requested by my love @jjmaybankssurfergf , hope you like it baby. 💋

jj had a particularly rough day. kooks, and the hot summer sun blazing down on him all day while he worked. he came home in a sour mood, immediately unbuckling his belt and shoving you down onto the bed as if you were a ragdoll.

when he got in these moods, you were more than happy to oblige with anything he said because you just wanted to make him happy.

"y' gonna sit here and take me, i don't wanna hear no complaining. got it?" he said, with a stern look in his eyes, as he never stopped working to get your panties off.

all you could do is nod, you were resisting the urge to press your thighs together from the way he spat in your face when he yelled at you.

he grabs your legs and throws them over his shoulders, pulling his boxers down just enough to reveal his thick, red cock, leaking with precum.

without warning, he nudges his tip at your entrance and slides himself in, causing you to yelp in a mixture of surprise and pleasure.

he wraps his ringed hand around your throat, squeezing enough to cut off some of your circulation. "shh. be a good girl and jus' take it, hm?" he says as he snaps his hips into yours.

you couldn't contain the whimpers that escaped past your throat, as he squeezes down on it, the pleasure becoming all too much, your vision hazy.

"j- please." you say with a hoarse voice, one of your hands moving to try and push his hand away.

he abruptly pulls out of you, his dick coated in your juices. he flips you over onto your stomach, pushing your face down into the pillow.

the bed dips as jj stands up from it, walking to a corner of the room. your too nervous to speak at the moment, so you just lay there, hoping he comes back. after a few moments you can hear muffled sounds of drawers opening and closing.

after about 30 seconds, he comes back with something in hand, your face still pushed down into the pillow, your eyes met with nothing but darkness.

after a few moments, you stop biting down on your lip nervously, and speak up, curiosity getting the best of you. "jay, what are u holding?" you ask in a soft, muffled voice.

"since you cant listen, im gonna stretch both of your little holes out." he says, leaving no room for an argument.

he grabs a bottle of lubricant, coating one of his fingers in the liquid, then pushing it into your ass, moving it in and out of your tight hole.

"y' see this mama?" he says, pulling you up by your hair roughly, holding the thick dildo in front of your face.

your eyes go wide, seeing the thick silicone toy in his grasp. you open your mouth to protest, but you knew better than to protest when he gets in this mood, knowing it wouldn't end well for you.

when you shut up and nod, a devilish smirk forms on his face. "good girl." he reaches around and presses a quick kiss to your lips, pulling his finger out of your ass.

"see, all you had to do was listen." he says, before pushing his own veiny cock in your pussy from behind, stretching your hole deliciously.

a few moments later, you can feel the silicone toy line up with your asshole, sliding inside with ease, thanks to the lubricant he used beforehand.

he pushes the toy and his dick in both of your holes at the same time, drawing a moan from his lips. he watches the way your pussy and ass clench around both dicks, it was almost enough to make him bust in that moment.

you could feel all your control and self restraint slip away at that moment, letting him take complete control of you, submitting to him as you close your eyes and moan into the pillow.

as both dicks penetrated you, all you could think about was the sounds jj were making behind you, the way his hand was gripping your hair roughly, and it only served to make you wetter than before.

you could feel a overwhelming pressure in your abdomen that was begging to be released.

"jay...'m gonna cum." you say, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, drool falling from the corner of your mouth.

he grunts from behind you "no, you cum when i tell you to."

he lets go of your hair, and grabs you by your throat, pulling you up so your back is against his chest. "who do you belong to, hm?" he says, chasing his orgasm

you try your best to hold back, but the pressure was becoming way too much, "you, jayj. only you." you assure him

"thats good mama." he grabs your cheek roughly, and pries your lips open with his thumb, spitting into your mouth. "swallow." he demands.

you swallow his spit with a whimper, and you clench around him

"you like that shit, huh?" he says, picking up the pace with both of the dicks. "cum f' me mama."

he pushes your head down again, and rubs figure 8's on your clit, coaxing your orgasm.

you immediately let out a loud moan as the pressure band in your stomach snaps, your orgasm ripping through you. your too lost in your pleasure to realize that you soaked jj from behind.

he groans loudly and pulls the silicone toy and his own dick out of you with a popping noise. he bends down to admire the sight of your squirting pussy.

"oh fuck, ma," he groans "your finna do that shit again f' me." he says, flipping you over.

[salemlunaa]

TOUGH REMINDER: BEING A BABY WONT GET YOU ANYWHERE 💋🤷‍♀️

some of you need to stfu with this whining bullshit!!

There is a single fact that if you have not induced pure consciousness by now it is your fault. You can change that in seconds of course and no one is mad at you because at the end of the day it’s your life, but when push comes to shove its you who needs to put the work in (not when it comes to inducing the void because that is effortless, but in general when it comes to discipline and staying focused) it’s you who needs to lock in. It’s you who needs to identify the problems you’re having and deal with it, or you will get no where, no one is here to hold your hand.

You can keep crying at your big age like some innocent baby. “but it just doesn’t work for” “how dare you say people are lazy when it’s not our fault” “it’s not my fault i fall asleep” bla bla bla you might as well suck your thumb while your at it. And when it hits 2030 you can be in the community preaching that’s it’s “still not your fault”, go ahead!! Sure call me horrible for this but if you’re still here it’s your own fault, because when people come into my asks my dms my comments and tell me that my posts are too harsh and that it’s “not their fault”, I ask them “who’s is it then?” and crickets…

And if you’re sitting here bitter I want you to ask yourself, who’s fault it that you’re still here, who’s fault is it that you still fall asleep, and do you know what fine maybe you try so hard to stay awake but can’t, but let me ask you, who gets affected by that? who gets affected by the fact that you’ve wasted so many years here because you “fall asleep”, because it doesn’t affect me.. it’s you, it’s you who will never progress talking to the wall about how it still somehow isn’t your fault…

The way some of you will read my posts which are meant to be motivational, and helpful all the way through and still try and absolve yourself from the blame is so embarrassing, but it will be you who reaps the consequences of this attitude. My posts apply to EVERYONE, you are not a baby who is exempt from criticism and from tough love, you can continue to be hard headed and tell yourself it’s not your fault that your still here. Sure that will help you sleep at night but it won’t help you get your dream life.

From now on I will be deleting demotivating comments, my account is about helping others, not coddling some babies who can’t live with the fact that it is their job to get their dream life, if you want that look elsewhere, but I will not have yall get into people’s heads, there are people who are ready to accept the fact that they control their reality and there are people who are ready to lock in, i will not have yall ruin that. I will not accept comments dms and asks, trying to avoid blame.

Neville does say “do not blame, only resolve” but at what point does it become enough. Circumstances are hard and of all people i would know, but at what point do you start taking accountability knowing that your thoughts create your reality and knowing that if you locked in you would have everything already.

there is no such thing as “this doesn’t apply to everyone”, you aren’t exempt from the facts of the law, ever, and you can delude yourself into thinking so and i hope those thoughts keep you company within all the unsuccessful years to come

GET TF UP AND STOP WHINING, YOU CAN DO THIS!!

last time i checked, bitter and pressed aren’t apart of the ingredients for the manifestation recipe 💋

[peppermintquartz]

"Hey handsome," says the guy sliding onto the seat next to him. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Tommy glances over. Why not? That's what I was here to do. He smiles and accepts the beer the bartender puts in front of him, watches the other guy take a swig of his.

"So... Come here often?" the other guy asks. He's kind of cute, with Hollywood teeth yet with a small scar above his upper lip.

Tommy shakes his head, smiles at him. "Haven't come by in months. I'm Tommy. What's your name?"

"Evan."

Immediately Tommy's smile falters. "Oh. Uh, sorry. This is... It's not gonna work for me tonight."

Evan raises an eyebrow. "My name is the issue? Or the rest of me?"

"My... My ex was also called Evan."

This Evan sighs dramatically. "Well, win some, lose some. I hope you find what you're looking for, Tommy."

"You and me both," Tommy says. "Thanks for the beer."

He nurses his drink for another few minutes when he feels eyes on him. As he straightens, he sees Evan - Evan Buckley - a few seats down the bar. Once Evan sees Tommy looking, he slides off his stool and comes right up to the older man.

"Hi," says Evan. "Come here often?"

He doesn't give Tommy the chance to respond, crowding into his personal space, one hand pulling at his belt loop.

"Evan, I mean, Buck, what are you doing?"

"Who's Evan Buck?" Evan drapes an arm around his neck and drags him in close. "Do I even know you?"

It's the cool, dismissive tone, juxtaposed against the clear heat between their bodies. Tommy feels his pulse pick up - as if he stood any chance in the first place - and moans when Evan kisses him, deep and filthy.

"You're really pent up, huh," Evan murmurs. He sounds amused. "Let's release some pressure, hmm?"

"Evan, what the hell-"

Tommy is silenced with another biting, ravenous kiss. Evan hisses against his lips, "I said, I don't know you. And you sure as hell don't know me." He grinds against Tommy's denim-clad thigh. "I know what I want, however." He leans close to Tommy's ear. "I want you to take me somewhere dark and make me come so good, I forget I'm mad at you."

Tommy's never claimed to be a strong guy. He turns his head, brushes his mouth over Evan's cheek. "Okay."