#because they can be funny to look back on

[oceantornadoo]

tw: evil ex wife stereotypes it’s for the plot trust

sorry this is unedited

captain price, divorcee and extreme dilf.

after a soul crushing mission, the safe house is silent as the team waits for morning exfil. you go outside for a breath of fresh air and find your captain, smoking a cigar and looking at a polaroid photo. “hey, cap.” he sends you a nod, then focuses back to the picture in his hand. you let him have this privacy, closing your eyes and breathing slow.

"smoke?" you open your eyes to his hand in front of you, offering a cigar. funny, how soap's been trying to nab one of cap's cigars for months and here he is, offering it to you. you take it silently, reminding yourself how to use it as you exhale slow. a minor cough eeks out, sending you both chuckling. he takes it back and switches hands, his photograph now on the side you share. his show of trust instills you with enough confidence to ask: "is that them?" two dark-haired little girls smile at you through the photograph, cheesy grins cloaking you with warmth. he hums affirmatively, callused thumb stroking the photo. "forced me t' buy a polaroid so they could model their new dresses." you bet he bought them that camera with a smile on his face. the wedding band tanline on his hand, stark when you met him two years ago, has faded completely like it was never there. "they've got you wrapped around their fingers." he nods, tucking the photo back in his vest to focus on his cigar. you both watch the smoke curl into the midnight air.

"open." you do obidiently, both pairs of eyes zeroed in on how close his hands are to your mouth. they brush your lips (not necessary if he'd adjusted his grip), staying there for a few seconds while you inhale and retreating when you exhale. something grows there, in the space between his body and yours. only once the smoke dissipates do you decide to get some sleep. "goodnight, cap." you back away towards the door, eyes on his. "goodnight, lieutenant." his eyes drop in alarm and that's when you see the red light of a sniper gun on your torso. everything goes to shit after that.

-

your hospital stay comes in flashes. your captain, haggard yet handsome, in that uncomfortable-looking chair next to your bed. a blink and there's two angels instead, bickering at the height of the hospital bed. "daddy said not to wake her!" the taller one argues. the younger one shakes her head, an echo of her father, and pets your limp hand. "daddy also said she has a boo-boo and t' kiss it better!" she kisses your hand with a restrained gentleness you wouldn't expect from a little kid. they keeping arguing, anchoring you to the land of the living for a few minutes. "alrigh' rascals, lets let her sleep. what do we say?" they turn to you with toothy smiles, like the picture, and whisper-yell "feel better!" before getting scooped up by their father.

later, time slipping through your fingers like sand, the doctor explains what happened in practiced words. shot to the torso, passed out because of shock and blood loss. simon haunts the space behind her like the ghost he is and you have to laugh at the gall of your fellow lieutenant. once you hear "a month of recovery," you give in to the weight of your eyelids.

-

a month later.

you knock at his door, then let yourself in. it’s something he lets you get away with, no one else.

price is grumbling into his phone and while usually you wouldn’t care, it seems oddly personal. you try to inch back out, but his sharp blue eyes catch yours before you can. “i told ya i’d need this today. gave you a two day warnin’.” he’s frowning at whatever the other person says (high pitched voice, definitely female). “christ, i’ll figure somethin’ out.” he hangs up before they can get another word in.

“everything ok? i can leave if you need some space?” you ask. he shakes his head, dragging a hand through his beard and readjusting his hat (stupid, why does he wear it indoors) before sitting down in his desk chair. “need t’ pick the girls up but this goddamn report is killin’ me.” it’s an intelligence focused night and while you finally broke through to one of your contacts, the creation of reports and communications with higher ups takes forever. your captain is especially chained to his desk, where his bosses could call at any moment and demand a redo.

"oh." you're not sure what the lines are here. not sure what to say to the loving father of two who sat vigil at your hosptial bed for a week. "their mom's at a dinner an' can't drive 'cause she drank a glass of wine." he bites out, almost to himself. "so her boyfriend can drop her home, but simply can't make a stop on the way to pick up the girls from after school care." you think back to the finished reports on your desk and the lack of plans you have.

"i could pick them up?" you tick the end up as a question, easier for him to deny. he does, of course. "can't ask tha' of you, lieutenant. not in y'r job description." you shrug, moving closer to his desk until you're practically sitting on it. "i'm not medically cleared to the field yet but i can still drive. it's not like i'm getting deployed in the next hour. and i'd be glad to do it." he's still unsure, staring at the laptop in front of him. "i've got to thank the angels that kissed my boo-boos." you break the tension with a laugh and when he looks up, there's a small smile under his beard. "you sure you're good t' drive?" you nod, rounding the table so you're a bit closer. he leans back a bit until his eyes meet yours. "passed the driving requirements last week. can't run out a burning building but i can handle pickup." he lifts his hips, tantalizing and strong, to fish out the keys in his pocket. "little one still needs the booster seat. easier f' ya t' take my car." this show of trust is worse, worming its way into your heart.

he texts you the address and says he'll call them ahead of time since you're not on the list. before you leave, price fishes out a sweatshirt from somewhere under his desk. "so ya don't look like a soldier." you're wearing standard olive green wear, t-shirt and camo pants. the sweatshirt (black, has 'price' on the back, smells like him) dulls the look into something almost publicly acceptable. "i'll keep you updated, cap." you're almost out the door when he says it. "thank you, lieutenant."

-

"hello, lovelies." you squat to get on their level, noting how they're holding hands tightly. "i'm a friend of your daddy. he sent me to take you to your mum." the older one squints at you with suspicion. "are you the lady from the hosp- hosp- hospital?" you nod, telling them your name. "i'm all better now thanks to you two. your kisses really worked." that causes them both to blush, inching towards you. the aftercare supervisor nudges them forward, thanking you with a grateful smile when they finally get towards the car. the fact that it's their father's calms them, settling in easy to their seats as the older one shouts unhelpful instructions as to how to buckle the car seat. you text price an update, then head towards their mother's.

when you get there, though, something's off. john picks up on the first ring. "everything ok?" he pants, hard. "yeah, the girls are fine. i'm at their mom's but i don't think anyone's home? the lights are off." he barks out a curse, and shamefully, it sends a spark straight to your core. "if it's ok, i could take them to get dinner? maybe pizza and ice cream since they had a long day? they only had a snack at the after program." he sighs and you can practically see him nodding in agreement.

"yeah, love. get some food in them, their mom should be home in an hour." love. spoken warmly and fluidly, like it was meant to be there. you bid him goodbye and take a deep breath, locking yourself into babysitter mode with no thoughts of their father. "who wants ice cream?" you ask, and smile when they scream.

-

an hour later, you get back to the house with two sugared-up littles. for all the grief their mom has caused john, you don't particularly care. the lady herself is standing on driveway, arms crossed with a frown. when you let the girls out, they hug-attack their mother, and she earns a few points back with her whispered "hello, my darlings. go wash up, mummy will be in soon."

you're closing the doors when she appears next to you. "so you're john's girlfriend." you frown, shaking your head. "no ma'am, i'm one of his lieutenants." the determined expression on her face doesn't change. "exactly, you're the lieutenant." and then she says your name like it's been memorized, even though you didn't offer it to her. all you can do is nod numbly and make an excuse to get back to base, ruminating on her words the whole time.

-

back in price's office, it's like deja vu with how tired he looks. this time, he greets you at the door, only a singular lamp on in the background. "hi cap-" the words get cut off when you're pulled into a bone crushing hug. it takes you a second to readjust: his hands around your waist, head tucked into the cruck of your neck.

slowly, your own hands wrap around his neck, pulling him in deeper. your fingers thread through his hair, cringing when they knock off his hat. he doesn't seem to care, squeezing you tight before pulling back. "thank you." he murmurs, hands still on your waist. your own drop to your sides, floating. "you told her i'm your girlfriend?" you eek out, unable to hold it back. his relieved expression drops, hands unsure at your waist. "i- she asked who the girls were visitin' at the hospital. was easier that way." your face drops at his response. john has an opposite reaction, stepping closer with a rough grip to your hip.

"you wanted another answer?" there's nowhere to go under the force of his stare. "maybe." is what you finally spit out. bravely, your hand finds the rough hair of his beard, exploring. it's as simple as a yes.

his kiss is possessive and bruising, pushing you against the door. your other hand tangles in his hair, pulling him in further. one of your legs wraps around his waist and with some encouragement, he gets you to surrender your position fully, your legs in his hands. "christ, ya taste like sherbert." you giggle, folding yourself further into him. "it was, oh fuck." he licks a stripe up your neck before kissing your jaw. "it was mango." he hums appreciatively.

“such a good wife f’ me.” you freeze, pulling back. “i’m not your wife, john.” yet here you are, his face in your hands like it’s yours to hold. “my hoodie.” he kisses your forehead. “pickin’ up my girls.” your cheek. “usin’ my money.” the credit card you found in the hoodie pocket. he shakes you out of your reverie with a nip to the neck.

“tha’s wha’ i thought.” he murmurs when you don’t argue back. you shut him up with a kiss. “i can see why you got divorced, cave man.” and all he does is laugh, moving to set you down on his office table.

john tugs off your layers one by one until you’re in your bra, legs spread on his office. “john.” he hums, fingers exploring the lines of your bra. “can we talk?” he stops suddenly, eyes on yours. the force of it is too much, making you meek and weak-willed. “so…you like me?” he nods, tracing the lines of your skin until he gets to the wound, healing on your torso. “felt like i died too when ya got shot. right in front of me an’ i couldn’t protect you.” you shake your head, pulling him in by the belt buckle until he’s between your legs. “it wasn’t your fault. we cleared the area best we could.” he kisses the scar, soft and sweet. “let me make it up to you?” you nod.

john pulls down a cup of your bra, laving at your tit like he’s trying to draw milk. “right, love. lay back f’ me.” and like always, you do.

-

i wrote this in between classes and it’s unedited. perhaps will come back to edit. anyways.

[cowgirlvi]

mdni, sub bottom!vi, fem top!reader, vaginal sex, strap-on usage, rough sex, filthy

wc; 1,256

thinking about being ex-girlfriends with vi. since the breakup, you’ve heard numerous rumors about her getting around campus, taking girls out on sweet little dates and then fucking them stupid afterwards. it would normally bother you, except you know vi’s pent up, you know she’s not fully satisfied with the sex she’s having, because you know none of these other girls have put in the effort to fuck vi. 

you’ve yet to hear any rumors about these girls stuffing vi’s hole with their cocks, and you know it must be killing her. she’s always had a greedy hole, one that needs constant attention— whether it’s from your tongue, your fingers, or your strap. 

after seeing the types of girls vi has been taking out on dates, you know for a fact that they’re not fucking her— and even if they wanted to, they wouldn’t be able to fuck her right, they wouldn’t be able to fuck her like you do.

so you honestly find this whole situation funny, the way vi is so clearly trying to rub these girls in your face. you’re not falling for her bait, you’re not going to give her a reaction, because there’s nothing to even react to.

which is why you aren’t surprised when vi shows up at your doorstep a week later. her cheeks are flushed and her puppy-dog eyes are round and filled with a mix of conflicting emotions. you almost laugh in her face, but you’re quick to school your emotions.

clearing your throat, you say, “can i help you, vi?”

”i just— i feel bad about the way things ended between us,” vi replies. god, her eyes are so blue, so full of hope and desperation. she longs for you to fuck her, that you’ll finally make the ache go away, the one that’s been tormenting her little pussy.

”mmm, you do?” you tap your manicured nails against your front door, appearing bored and uninterested. “will that be all, vi?” you ask, already beginning to shut your door.

vi is quick to shove her hand against your door with a loud thud, pushing it open and then peering at you with eyes suddenly full of shame. “baby, i— fuck, i miss you, okay?” she finally admits.

you smile. you already knew that.

which explains how vi ended up in your bed, the pink sheets a ruffled mess, her clothes flung across the room, and her muscular frame a trembling mess on your mattress. she’s laying on her back, holding her legs up to her chest, her cute pussy on full display, and your strap is pressed inside her to the hilt.

you can reach so deep inside her in this position, you can hit all the spots that make her shake, that make her cry and scream. not to mention, the view of her cunt swallowing you whole, her fluttering hole drowning your cock in her tangy juices. 

you can see the desperation in every line of her body, the way she’s aching to be used. it’s a sight that would have once filled you with jealousy and possessiveness if anyone else were to see it, but now as you stare down at vi, all you want to do is laugh at her, to coo at how pathetic she looks.

”you missed me, huh?” you say, driving your hips forward with a rough thrust. “that’s funny, baby. i heard you’ve been keeping pretty busy.”

vi goes crosseyed when you slam against her cunt, a strangled moan escaping her pouty lips. “mmffuck!”

you run a finger along vi’s slit while keeping a steady pace with your strap, feeling the slick, warm heat of her arousal. vi shudders at the touch, her hips twitching forward slightly, seeking more contact. you giggle, knowing that no matter how many girls vi brought home, no matter how many times she tried to replace you... nothing could compare to this.

”fuck, baby, your pussy’s a mess. none of those girls knew how to take care of this greedy cunt, did they?”

vi immediately shakes her head, mindlessly moaning. “ahh, only y-you— it’s only ever been you— unhh— i swear!“

you know vi too well, you know her body better than vi knows it herself. you know that vi needs to be stretched, to be filled, to be used hard and fast and without mercy. and judging by the desperate— borderline anguished— look on vi’s face, you were right to assume that none of those other girls could give her what she craved.

vi’s feet bob aimlessly in the air, her legs spread as wide as her flexibility allows her to, and she looks like an easy whore— she looks like the type of dumb slut that would be desperate enough to beg some rando on the street to fill her up.

”poor baby,” you coo down at her. “you just needed me to take care of you all this time.”

”yes, yes, fuck! need you, uuuh—“

you relish in the desperation in vi’s voice. you know you have vi right where you want her, trembling and needy, craving the one thing no one else can give her.

the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by vi’s high, breathy moans and grunts. you know you’re hitting all the right spots, know that you’re fucking vi in a way no one else will ever be able to replicate. she’s stuck with you forever.

"fuck, baby... you're so tight," you groan, your hips never faltering in their relentless rhythm. “your pussy is sucking on me so hard— mmf— can’t get enough, can you?”

her creamy pussy is hugging your strap like a vise and you relish in the way her body spasms around you. you know vi is addicted to this feeling, to the delicious mix of pleasure and pain that only you can give her, to the way you stir up her guts. it’s a high she can’t find anywhere else, a blissful oblivion that vi has been desperately chasing ever since your breakup.

you watch in dark satisfaction as vi’s tough, muscular body goes pliant and soft underneath you, all because she’s filled with cock. vi’s a fucked-out disaster; her abs twitching and flexing, her arms trembling as she tries to hold her legs back for you, her thick thighs quivering.

”ohh— hnnnggff! fuck, fuck, i’m gonna come!” vi sobs, her back arching harshly, her tits bouncing obscenely with every slam of your hips. her voice is raspy and she looks sinful.

you grip vi’s waist hard enough to leave bruises as you piston your hips impossibly faster, her wetness splashing between the two of you. vi’s eyes roll back in her head, her tongue hanging out stupidly as she surrenders to the intense pleasure radiating from her core. 

“come for me, vi. who knows, ah, if i’ll ever wanna fuck you again after this, so you better come right fucking now,” you threaten.

it’s like a flip switches within her because suddenly vi’s body seizes beneath you, as if she has no choice but to obey. she’s squealing and gasping as her body tenses and shakes at the same time, her thighs trying to close around you, but you’re quick to shove her legs back open; you’re determined to wring out every last drop of pleasure.

“mmffagh! holy fuuck— ahhh! yes, yes, please!”

it’s the most devastating orgasm of her life.

[captain-hawks]

“i didn’t come over for sex,” oliver exhales in between kisses, cupping your face in both hands as you climb into his lap.

you laugh quietly, because it’s almost two in the morning. and his team just lost a crucial match.

—and this is oliver, for fuck’s sake.

“cute,” you tell him, dragging a hand through his dark hair to push it back from his face. “is that the line you use on girls who don’t know any better yet?”

brows furrowed, something that you’d swear might be hurt—if he were anyone else—flashes in his eyes.

“there hasn’t been…” he trails off, looking away from you for a moment as he breathes in through his nose.

you blink at him, heart doing something funny in your chest as you realize something’s off.

“oliver?”

his eyes slide back to yours, and your ribcage trembles.

“can we just—“ oliver cuts himself off, his tone uncharacteristically uncertain.

he leans in, head diverging from its familiar path to your mouth, forehead coming to rest on your shoulder instead. strong arms wrap around your torso in a way that feels far more intimate than it has any right to.

in turn, you slide a hand up his back, fingers spreading at the nape of his neck to weave into his soft hair.

you feel him relax against you.

[revelboo]

Maybe a one-shot on how some of the MTMTE bots would react to their human suddenly teleporting back home? My bones crave angst.

Oh. My one weakness… angst… How painful do I want to make this…

This is an alternate take scenario, not part of any of the stories

MTMTE What If Angst Scenarios: Just Gone

Megatron

• Rumbling out a laugh, he affectionately taps a servo under your chin and smiles when you lay a soft hand on him. “You’re quiet today,” he says, the contact with you soothing him. “Everything alright?” And you wrinkle your little nose at him. Know you think he’s worrying over nothing, but he can’t help it. You and the spark he’d created with you are everything to him. A second chance. A family he’d never dreamed possible. A gift that he’s not sure he can ever be truly worthy of after all he’s done.

• “Just a little off today.” There’s a faint feeling of disorientation, but it’s nothing major. Servos ghosting over your cheek, he’s frowning and you know he’s going to hover and worry unless you distract him. “Can I have some water?” Optics brightening slightly, he turns away and watching him, you still can’t believe he’s yours. That you’re here. Sometimes it all seems like a vivid dream. Heart aching as you watch him, that disorientation sharpens. Hooks into your middle to steal your breath and you recognize the pain. Remember it. Don’t even have time to cry out.

• Staggering, his hand catches the counter as sharp pain flares through the bond, almost crippling him as the tiny container of water slips from his servos. Turning, he stares at his berth. At where you should be and aren’t. Can’t sense you at all. You or his sparkling. Just gone. Legs giving out from under him as his knees hit the floor. Servos shaking uncontrollably as he roars out in pain.

Scavengers

• “Hey, move it you two, we don’t have time for-” Trailing off as Spinister just looks up at him, your blanket clutched in his servos, and Krok’s spark constricts. Knowing something is wrong, seeing it in the pain in Spinister’s optics as the big mech curls forward, rotor blades flaring as he hangs onto your favorite blanket. “Where’s Tiny? Spinister, what happened.”

• “Gone,” he manages, keeps turning the blanket over, twisting it like you should still be tangled in it and he’s just missing you somehow. You’d been in his hands, talking to him and your expression had gone strange. All you’d said was that you suddenly didn’t feel well. He’d had you. Safe. He’d been holding you and you’d just disappeared out of his servos. “Gone.” Looking helplessly up at Krok, because he always knows what to do. He can fix this. He has to fix this. Holding out your blanket in his shaking servos. Pleading for help.

Swerve

• Laughing, you push an empty glass across the bar top to him before jogging for the next one. Head turning when Nautica takes a seat, Swerve hears a clatter, a stool hitting the floor and he looks at Trailbreaker. The big mech pointing. And there’s nothing there. Overenergized already? “What is it, boy? Timmy down a well? Use your words,” he jokes, smile faltering when you don’t laugh. You always laugh. Trailbreaker is backing away from the bar gaping. Spark constricting when he can’t find you. You were right there. “Hey, that’s not funny.” Reaching to move glasses to see if you’re hiding behind one. You can’t have gotten down without help. ‘They just disappeared,’ Trailbreaker whispers. No. He’s had too much. He’s wrong. You’re not gone without a trace. You can’t be. He never got to tell you that he loved you. The moment had never felt right. You’re not gone.

Rodimus

• Entering his quarters, he sets down an energon cube and one of Ratchet’s nutrient bars for you. “You wouldn’t believe what Mags said to me,” he mutters, turning. And you’re not on his berth where he’d left you. Freezing, he shifts your blankets to check that you’re not buried under your nest of them. And immediately drops to his knees to look under the berth. Servos warming as his ability begins to flare. Terrified you’d fallen, but there’s no trace of you. It’s like you disappeared. Opening his door, he steps out into the hall and sees Chromedome looking lost. ‘I think the humans are all gone,’ the other bot says reaching for Rewind as the smaller bot grabs onto him. He’s wrong. He must be. His armor plating is popping, heating up. They’re wrong.

Tarn

• Servos sliding idly along your spine as you laze on top of him, he softly sings for you. Relaxed and focused on the steady beat of your heart. Tucking his chin to see you watching him. Humming along even though you don’t know the words, your voice twining with his to make warmth spread through him. And you sit up suddenly with a shaky gasp. Hooking a servo around you as you look up at him, brow creasing. “What is it?” You look afraid suddenly, doubling over and he cups his palm around you. And you’re just gone like you’d never been. And his servos tremble as he stares at where you’d been. Where you should be.

Cyclonus and Tailgate

• Another panic attack? Feeling the fear and pain spark through his bond, Cylconus growls and staggers. Nearly crippled with it. Crossing the room as Tailgate bounces off a wall, backpedaling and yelling incoherently, he catches the smaller bot and drops to his knees. Trying to calm him before he hurts himself. Or you. Where are you? Usually you two are about inseparable. Feels Tailgate clutch at him, and there’s a ragged, aching wrongness that’s tearing at him. All jagged edges through his bonds with you and Tailgate. And Tailgate’s hysteria takes on a new meaning.

• Venting raggedly, he’s howling trying to get Cyclonus to understand and can’t calm down enough to tell him. So he’s screaming, panicking. One minute everything was fine, stretched out beside you as your mouth brushed his neck, lazily tangling in you. Snaring you with his spark to check on the fragile twin sparks you’re carrying and then you’d just been torn away. Lost you and the sparks. Just gone. And he can’t calm down, grieving and terrified and confused. Screaming.

And kitten twins for poor Cyclonus is a thing now

[ikkyfics]

Midnight Reverie

Sirius Black x f!reader

Summary: “You know what's funny?" His voice is low, drawling, like a secret whispered against your wrist. "What?" Your own voice trembles. "I swear my plan was just to make you sleep." His teeth graze your skin lightly. "But you're not helping, doll."

Warnings: language, est. relationship, suggestive, love bites, no use of y/n, the marauders' reaction when they saw that you spent the night in the boys' dormitory

A/N: sirius' m.list is my oldest draft (from early december), but only now have I dared to do something with it, I hope it didn't turn out too bad <33

Masterlist

Your footsteps on the stone staircase barely make a sound as you climb toward the boys' dormitories in Gryffindor Tower. The castle is drowned in the silence of the early hours, and the only light illuminating your path comes from the weakly dancing flames in the common room fireplace far below.

You've been here before. Many times. The path to him is as familiar as Sirius himself.

Reaching the top of the staircase, you push the door open slowly, slipping into the dark room. The air is thick with the dormitory’s woody scent and something unmistakably his—a mix of leather, smoke, and Sirius.

The other boys sleep deeply, their steady breathing filling the space. But your gaze is drawn to the bed at the far end, where crimson curtains are partially parted, revealing a cascade of black hair spread across the pillow.

Sirius lies on his side, one hand tucked under his face, his breathing slow and deep. The moonlight slipping through the window cracks casts a silver glow over him, highlighting the sharp angles of his face, the soft shadows beneath his closed eyes, the dark hue of his long lashes against his pale skin.

You move closer, soundless, kneeling beside his bed. Your heart pounds in your chest as you lightly trace your fingers over his arm, the tip of your nail grazing the warmth of his skin.

"Sirius..." your voice is barely a whisper.

He stirs, frowning slightly before his eyes slowly flutter open. Sleep-clouded gray meets yours, and a shadow of a smile tugs at his lips.

"Ah," his voice, rough and drowsy, slides through the silence like a secret. "So my imagination has finally materialized into flesh and bone?"

His lazy, slightly teasing tone sends warmth flooding through your chest. You smile softly. "If you're dreaming of me, then your imagination is terribly dull."

Sirius lets out a short chuckle, rolling onto his back and stretching an arm toward you. "Since you're already here, come on."

You don’t hesitate. The bed creaks slightly as you slide in, molding yourself against the warmth of his body. Sirius shifts to make space, pulling the curtains closed around you both with a lazy flick of his wand before murmuring a silencing charm. The world outside disappears.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you against his bare chest. The heat of his skin is comforting, and you can feel the slow, drowsy rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asks, his lips brushing the top of your head.

You shake your head against him, feeling the movement of his smile before you even see it.

"Lucky me, then."

"Why?"

"Because now I have an excuse to do this." His fingers trail idly up your arm, skimming over your shoulder, your neck, until finally threading into your hair. He plays with the strands absentmindedly while his other arm tightens around your waist, as if making sure you won’t slip away.

You sigh, sinking further into him.

Sirius tilts his head, pressing his lips lightly to your forehead for a lingering moment, his breath warm against your skin before he murmurs:

"Want me to tell you a story?"

You lift your face to look at him. "Since when do you tell stories?"

He shrugs, a lazy glint in his eyes. "Since now. I have a very selective and highly demanding audience to entertain."

You laugh softly but nod. "I do."

Sirius thinks for a moment, his gray eyes lost in the shadows of the bed canopy. Then, in a deliberately dramatic tone, he begins:

"Once upon a time, there was a great hunter in the sky. He was strong, invincible, arrogant as hell, but handsome enough to make up for it—"

"This is about Orion, isn’t it?"

"Hey, who’s telling the story here?"

You smile, resting a hand on his chest. "Go on, then."

Sirius clears his throat theatrically. "As I was saying, Orion was a legendary hunter. But he was also a little impulsive—and pissed off powerful people, which, let’s be honest, is a familiar trait."

The implication in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed. You smile against his skin, feeling Sirius's muscles relax beneath your fingers.

"He boasted that he could defeat any beast on Earth," Sirius continues, lowering his voice to a deep whisper. "And the gods, being the bastards they are, didn’t like that. So they sent a scorpion to kill him. And just like that, the invincible hunter fell."

He pauses, his eyes locked onto yours.

"But the gods placed him in the sky," he finishes softly. "A bright constellation, never to be forgotten."

The silence between you is filled only by the sound of your soft breaths and the slow beat of Sirius’s heart under your palm.

"Tragic," you murmur.

Sirius smiles faintly. "All the best stories are."

You watch his face in the dark, the soft fall of his dark hair over his eyes, the strong line of his jaw softened by the dim light. He looks caught between two worlds—one where he is Sirius Black as everyone knows him, and another where it’s just you and the way he melts into you.

You touch his face lightly, letting your thumb graze the curve of his mouth. "If you were a constellation, which one would you be?"

His lips part slightly under your touch, something warm flickering in his gaze.

"If I could choose..." he murmurs, "any one that’s next to you in the sky."

Your heart clenches.

Sirius seems to notice, because he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a slow, lingering kiss, as if trying to trap the feeling of you here, as if trying to make this moment eternal.

And in a way, it is.

The kiss starts soft. The kind of kiss Sirius gives when he wants to savor, when he wants to feel. But there’s something about you—the way your fingers tangle in his hair, the way your body molds against his, the way your lips return to his without a shred of hesitation—that makes him lose his patience.

The sound he makes against your mouth is deep, almost a low, satisfied purr, and then the softness dissolves. His hands tighten on your waist before sliding up your back, pulling you closer. You feel the tension in his muscles beneath your fingers, his breath becoming more uneven against yours.

Sirius kisses like it’s hunger.

And you surrender.

You get carried away.

Your bodies fit together in an almost desperate way, his hands traveling up your neck, into your hair, his fingers firm against your skin, as if he wants to memorize you. He takes your mouth with more insistence now, deepening the kiss in a way that makes it hot, consuming.

When you let out a quiet moan against his lips, Sirius exhales an almost exasperated sigh and flips you over in one swift motion, pinning you beneath him. His weight is comfortable, warm, and you feel every inch of him against you.

Sirius' gray eyes gleam in the dark, intense, hungry. He leans down, brushing the tip of his nose along your jaw, trailing slowly down your neck, letting his breath warm your skin. A shiver runs through you.

"You know what's funny?" His voice is low, drawling, like a secret whispered against your wrist.

"What?" Your own voice trembles.

"I swear my plan was just to make you sleep." His teeth graze your skin lightly. "But you're not helping, doll."

The shiver rolls down your spine even before you feel the first bite.

Sirius presses his mouth to your neck, sucking slowly before biting—not hard enough to hurt, but enough that tomorrow, you’ll see the marks and remember exactly how they got there.

You cling to him, fingers digging into his bare back, feeling the satisfied chuckle he lets out against your collarbone before biting there too, as if he’s claiming you, leaving his signature on your skin.

You feel him smile against your shoulder before he trails his lips up to your jaw, then back to your mouth. The kiss now is slower, more deliberate, as if he’s savoring the effect he has on you.

Then, as abruptly as he started, Sirius stops.

His lips still brush against yours, but he doesn’t push forward. His breathing is fast, just like yours, and for a moment, he just looks at you, his gaze hazy, intense.

The silence between you is thick, full of everything that doesn’t need to be said.

Then, with a sigh, he lets out a low, husky laugh. "If I keep going, you’ll never sleep."

He doesn’t pull away completely, but you feel the weight of his restraint in his shoulders when he closes his eyes for a moment, controlling his breathing.

Your fingers touch his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the tension beneath his warm skin.

Sirius opens his eyes again, and there’s something so devastatingly intense in them that your heart clenches.

He gives you a faint smile, lips still a little swollen. "You’re killing me, you know that?"

You smile back, sliding your arms around his neck. "If it’s any consolation… we’re dying together."

Sirius lets out a short laugh, then kisses your forehead and pulls you against his chest.

"Now sleep, my love." His voice is low, laced with the sleep that’s finally catching up to him.

Sirius' body is a warm shelter against yours, his chest rising and falling steadily as he holds you tightly, but not trapping you. He lazily runs a hand up and down your back, tracing invisible patterns with his fingertips, the touch so tender it makes your heart ache.

"Breathe with me," he murmurs into your hair, his voice still thick with sleep.

You obey, inhaling when he does, exhaling in the same rhythm. His chest vibrates against you when he lets out a contented sigh, and then, in a tone so soft it feels meant just for you, Sirius starts to hum.

The melody is gentle, little more than a low, resonant hum against your ear. He doesn’t sing words, just lets the sound fill the space between you, as if he’s lulling you into a song only he knows.

And it works.

Your muscles slowly relax, your eyes grow heavy, and the last thing you feel before finally slipping into sleep is the warm press of Sirius' lips against your forehead.

Morning arrives lazily, with the sun filtering through the heavy curtains and spreading a golden glow across the room. You're still deeply asleep, nestled against Sirius' chest, while he rests his hand possessively on your back, his fingers lazily curled in the thin fabric of your blouse.

Sirius is awake, but he doesn’t move. He just stays there, watching the way your relaxed face looks even more beautiful in the soft light, the way your breath against his collarbone sends shivers down his skin.

He could stay like this all day.

Unfortunately, the world has other plans. The bed curtain is abruptly yanked aside.

"WHAT THE F—"

"Shhh! For Merlin's sake, James!"

Potter’s shout barely has time to echo through the room before it's interrupted by the urgent whispers of Remus. Sirius narrows his eyes, irritated.

"Fuck off, James, shut up," he grumbles, his voice still thick with sleep.

James raises his hands in surrender, but his eyes are still wide as he stares at the scene before him. Remus just rubs his face, exhausted before the day even begins.

Peter, who has just lifted his head from the pillow, gapes and immediately looks anywhere but at the two of you. "Merlin!" he murmurs, his skin flushing instantly.

Sirius, now burying his head against your neck, lets out a low chuckle. He moves just enough to pull the blanket over his body, not because he wants to hide the marks—he’s actually completely satisfied with how they look—but because he prefers no one else sees them.

James, standing at the foot of the bed with his glasses askew and a scandalized look on his face, points an accusing finger. "Those are marks, Sirius!"

Sirius rolls his eyes. "Do you really have to shout about it? Fuck, she’s still sleeping."

"It’s impressive! You were irresponsible!"

"I was passionate," Sirius corrects, a cheeky smile forming on his lips.

Remus, who’s seen worse, just lets out a sigh. "Can we at least pretend to be adults?"

Sirius shrugs, lazily looking at them before simply pulling you a little closer against him.

"You guys talk too much in the morning," he murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below your ear.

James grimaces. "I’m going to puke."

"Then puke outside."

Peter makes a muffled sound, clearly too embarrassed to contribute to the conversation.

Remus, always practical, crosses his arms and watches Sirius with an unreadable look. "You’re a shameless dog."

Sirius grins—a lazy, insolent smile that clearly says no, he definitely isn’t ashamed.

"Guilty," he says, his voice drawling.

James shakes his head, frustrated. "Merlin, Black. Could you at least try to look sorry?"

Sirius just smiles more.

And then, in an absurdly possessive gesture, he lowers his face and places a lazy kiss on your exposed shoulder, as if wanting to make it clear to everyone that yes, the marks are his, and yes, he wears them proudly.

"Now, if you don’t mind," he says, pulling the blanket over both of you and closing his eyes again, "get out of here before I get even more graphic."

James lets out a horrified grunt.

Peter rushes to grab his things and leave.

Remus just sighs, clearly used to this.

And Sirius, satisfied with himself, settles back against you, completely ignoring the chaos he’s caused.

[leafostuff]

Practice routine [Ft. Jo Yuri]

Author Notes: BOOM SURPRISE SMUT, SO SURPRISING EVEN I DIDNT KNOW I WAS GONNA UPLOAD IT TODAY, i had a blast writing this and Jo Yuri did get on my radar lately so i did want to give her a smut of appreciation.

Hope yall will have a Great read and a great day

Ps. No beta readers because :p

=================================

It's a practice routine what you two have.

There is nothing better to build a strong friendship than a vow to help each other build strength and have a healthier lifestyle, especially when your friend is an idol, practicing hard for her next comeback.

Two light knocks on the glass door and it quickly opens, you are greeted by Yuri standing in front of you, wearing a white button shirt and long, black pants paired with an warm, sweet smile as soon as she looks at your eyes. 

“Finally! It took you forever to get here Oppa~” then she grabs your hand, pulling you inside the practice room, wooden floor surrounded by mirrors from almost all sides.

“Yeah, you forgot your company halls are a maze to walk around in,” you say, your hands work on taking your sweater off, leaving you with a basic tee and a pair of sweatpants 

“Well maybe if you came here more often then you wouldn't be so lost” she retorts in a playful manner. “Okay you already got here, lets get started with the session”. She announces before immediately taking her shirt off revealing no bra, giving you a free view of her mounds, her nipples already hard as she asks you. 

“Pants off, Please~”

Well, i never said what type of workout you two enjoyed doing.

“How many reps do you want to do again? 15? 20?” You ask, meanwhile your hands quickly lower the pants and boxers, throwing them off somewhere in the room.

“Hmm, lets do 30, im feeling spicy today” she comments however It's her eyes that tell you her needs before her words. She's looking at you, her smile beaming in excitement with every step you take toward her with your length proud and ready to work.

Yuri now kneels in front of you, face level with your cock as she takes one of her hands, attempting to wrap her fingers around it, her face leaning in close enough to have her lips part wide enough to have your tip rest inside, letting you feel the first tingles of pleasure.

“Readeh?” She mumbles a question while your tip is resting on her plump lips, eyes meeting yours with an ever-so innocent smile, funny given the fact she has you dick ready to be devoured.

You can only respond with a sly grin before saying, “One…” this word is so engraved inside Yuri’s brain that as soon as she hears it she starts letting her mouth take in your cock, getting close to your balls before eventually going back to your tip, and then doing it again, and again, and again.

Right now, the only sounds present in the room are your steady counting, the faint slurping sound of her mouth in the goal of getting you worked up faster and the playful, sweet and muffled moans coming from Yuri. And how does this look? Well you can't say you are less than aroused seeing how the mirrors around the room portray her taking care of your cock so well, it's filthy yet at the same time, it's the purest form of art you ever witnessed.

It's around the 12th rep that she lets out your cock, lips coated with your seed forming a sultry smile. “Wow, I can feel myself getting better at t-mph” you don't give her the chance to continue the sentence, bucking your hips into her mouth, getting her to gasp in surprise, or pleasure, it might as well be the same for her.

“The set Yuri, your pace is great” She smiles at your compliment, turning all of her focus back again to your cock as she continues to bob her mouth back and forth, eventually the pleasure Yuri showers your member with slowly start to take control of your body, enough that your hands have to gripe the back of head for stability, 

Enough that every time Yuri lets your length deep inside her mouth you move your hips forward, letting your tip graze the back of her throat.

Eventually you count the 30th rep, getting one more moan from her and then she lets her mouth of your cock with an audible pop sound. “Mmm, that exercise is always a good warmup for me~” she says, letting out an adorable chuckle while she licks her lips from any leftover cum.

“That's good to hear, let's start the next exercise?” 

“Ooo, yes yes yes, you know I like it when we do that exercise” she happily agrees, grinning like a child as you now sit down on the floor, watching as Yuri begins to lower her own pants, revealing to you, surprise surprise: no panties as well and her lower lips are already glistening with her own fluids

“Wow, were you this needy for a workout Yuri?” You ask as the two of you begin to shift your position: now you are sitting on the wooden floor while Yuri is straddling your lap, feeling how your cock is inches apart from her lower entrance.

“You know what they say…” she says, her hands making quick of your shirt, throwing it somewhere in the room. a good workout always helps when you need a little boost” you can feel her want, you can tell how much she needs you right now so why delay the inevitable.

“20 reps?”

“30” Yuri answers as she now puts her hands on your abs, feeling the texture of your 6 pack on her fingers. then without any foreword she lowers herself into your length, making you feel her pussy tightly wrap around you

The first round of friction makes you sound a heavy groan of pleasure, your hands go to each side of her hips, gripping for control while you move her up and dowm on your body, making light clapping noises from both of your bodies.

Yuri looks like she enjoys it, replacing her sharp movements to literally bouncing on your dick around the 8th rep, her tongue lolls out of her mouth making her unable to sound anything but a sultry, needy moan.

Eventually through the pleasure you are experiencing, you find the strength to lean your head close to Yuri's ears. “God, you love it when i fuck you like that, right?”.

She can only moan in response while moving her head in a way that can resemble a sign of agreement. “Yeah, you fucking love it when I pretend that I am your private coach to your company, to your manager just so you can have some cock to relieve you? To fuck your entire body silly?” You say in between your grunts, it's not like she could actually answer since she is busy being impaled by your length so you settle with a loud gasp caused by your hand giving a loud smack to her right buttcock and groping it tightly.

The last couple reps are slower, replacing the consistent pace with raw strength every time you thrust yourself into her tight cavern. Yuri attempts to cry out a scream of pleasure but not before you seal her mouth with your own, muffling her moans enough so that only your ears are blessed with hearing the unholy symphony that comes from her mouth.

She can feel how close you are to unloading for the second time today so just as the last rep of the set comes, she sinks her hips to engulf your length entirely inside her, getting both of you to mutually release your orgasm at the same time,and the cum goes everywhere.

On the floor.

On Yuri's Thighs.

On the upper half of your chest.

But most of it goes inside her, rope after rope after rope of cum fills the insides of Yuri making her brain unable to process the pleasure taking over her body. Eventually she finally manages to detach herself from your body, letting the both of you fall onto the floor, a mixture of you two fluids leaks out of her Cunt.

“That. Was. Awesome!!” She tiredly exclaims, panting heavily after each word, her eyes looking at the ceiling light. “I swear, this was like, The best training session we had in a long time” she adds, even when its obvious she was talking about sex, for her its just an intensive workout.

you only have enough energy to sit up without saying a, you see Yuri still laying on her back, her body full of sweat and cum while her face just like at the start shows a happy, satisfied smile. You can't explain why, but seeing her like this suddenly gives you an idea.

“Do you know how to do a sit-up?”

She scoffs, looking at you as if you just asked her whats 2+2. “Without any problem, its not some rocket science”

“Can you do 30 reps?”

“Sure, watch me” she responds, laying on her back once again and getting into position of the exercise. “On-ngh” Just as Yuri was about to start she could feel a weird sensation running over pussy however as she looks down, its just your head in between her legs, your tounge is giving slow licks to her hole, “what are you-hahh…doing?” She asks in between a small jolt of pleasure.

“Just an after practice treat for me, each rep you do before cumming is one second of me eating you out, win-win from how i see it” you look up her with a bratty grin, however its impossible to beat Jo Yuri in being a brat so in response she just smiles and says.

“Better hope i taste good then” she now looks at the ceiling again, continuing her reps thus giving you the signal to continue your deserved meal, and how sweet does she taste for you after a good workout.

Unlike your previous excerices today, this one had given you the opportunity to hear Yuri moan, but instead of the usual needy noises and the constant need for your white fluid, this time they are moans of music and each one is a note creating this passionate sonate of sex, for example:

“Haaaa, so good”

“Can you go slowe-nghh…please?”

“Oh yes, thats the spot”

“Fuck, You're gonna make me cum again with that tounge…”.

And meanwhile the workout goes on, you can feel small beads of sweat flowing from her thighs onto your hair, her thighs wrapped around your head depriving you from air, and her fluids flow inside mouth little by little, tasting like an unforbidden nectar you couldn't stop yourself from it's addicting flavour, something so sinful feeling oh so right with Yuri.

But sadly you can only experience the pleasure for so long, since fairly quickly you can feel the last round of cum coming from Yuri nto your mouth as she detaches herself from your tounge, gathering some strength to sit down and say in a breathy tone, “Fuck, this was amazing”

You eventually have to bid your goodbye to Yuri, after all your practice session with her was over according to your managers, but not before you help each other find your clothes, clean up any cum stains on the floor and depart with a small hug added with firm grope of her left buttcock.

Its now evening, already at home, getting yourself prepared for the Gym, even a coach needs some practice of its own, out of nowhere your phone sounds its mario coin notification, taking it out of your pocket you see it's a message from Yuri.

On it there is a picture: Yuri, fully naked, her Feet and hands sticking to the ground but her ass? Standing up and proud into the air with the hole almost directly in front of the camera lens, and the text below?.

“Good evening Oppa, can we do this workout tommorow?? I really think it can help my flexibility 😉😉😏”

Good to see your favourite client enjoying your service, already asking for more.

[jsbluu]

pillow humping | p. jisung

req here ★

➨ pairing: park jisung x fem reader

➨ genre: smut (MDNI)

➨ word count: 939

➨ warnings: pervy jisung, sub(?) jisung, i probably used the word “mess” too many times, reader and jisung are friends and he wants her sooooo bad

jisung knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. not when you were just with him a few hours ago, sitting way too close on his bed, laughing at something he said that wasn’t even funny, stealing bites of snacks that weren’t even yours. not when your perfume still lingers in the air, the sweet scent reminding him of how intoxicatingly sweet you were.

he shifts onto his back and stares at the ceiling in hopes these thoughts will go away, but it’s useless. he can’t stop his body from reacting, his cock already straining against his pants—harder than it was before.

the way your lips parted when you spoke to him, the look in your eyes you’d get when you’d stare at him for a bit too long for it to be platonic, the way your fingers played with the hem of your sweater when you got shy.

his breath shudders as he squeezes his eyes shut as hard as he can, hoping, praying it’ll make it stop, but it doesn’t. he can’t ignore the heat pooling in his abdomen anymore.

he knows it’s wrong and pervy, and if you found out you’d probably be disgusted. but he’s way too fucking horny to think about morals right now as he gently runs his hands down his toned chest, stopping just above his waistband.

he knows he shouldn’t be doing this, but he can’t stop himself as his hand travels under his sweats and wraps around his rock hard cock. he lets out a small moan, bucking his hips up into his hand. he’s barely touched himself but he’s already so sensitive, so close to cumming, and that’s all because of you.

he moves his hand back and forth, using his precum as a way to slide his pump himself faster. he bites his bottom lip as he tries to stifle back a whimper, but he ultimately fails. he can’t stop your name from falling out of his lips, it rolls so smoothly off his tongue like you’re the one giving him this pleasure.

it feels good, but it’s not enough. his grip tightens, his thumb brushing over his tip and he swears under his breath, his brows furrowing and he becomes more hot and bothered by the second. still, it’s not enough. his hand is nothing to what you’d feel like. he can almost imagine it, your pussy clenching around him, your smaller hand wrapped around his dick, teasing him however you’d like.

he exhales frustratedly as he turns onto his side, his chest rising and falling unevenly as he blindly reaches for the small throw pillow on his bed. his fingers gently grasp the fabric, hesitating for a moment before pulling it closer.

he’s way too far gone at this point to feel shame, as he aligns himself with it.

“f-fuck..” he breaths out as he buries his head into the mattress as a way to ground himself. he moves his hips gently against the pillow, rocking himself against it to get any type of friction he can.

and just like that, any restraint is gone.

his fingers grip the pillow tighter as he moves, rolling his hips experimentally. his mind is a mess at this point, thinking back to earlier when you were in his room, on his bed. he sniffs the sheets, moaning out loud when he smells another whiff of your perfume.

“y/n..”

your name falls from his lips again in a breathless whisper before he even realizes he said it. but hearing it out loud makes it worse, makes it real. make his movements more desperate than before.

he ruts into the pillow harder, his precum leaking through his sweatpants making an already sticky situation worse.

he can feel himself approaching his orgasm way faster than he ever has, faster than the other times he’s made himself cum to the thought of you. maybe it’s the fact that he had you so close today, close enough to touch, but not enough to keep. maybe this was his way of filling in the gap of being close to you that he so desperately needs.

the friction is maddening, dragging over his cock just right, but it’s not enough. his body craves more, his pace becoming more frantic and messy as he becomes more desperate.

“y/n.. y/n…..” he chants your name like a mantra as he pictures you underneath him, your nails clawing and creating scratches at his back as he snaps his hips into you at an inconceivable pace. your sweet whimpers and pleads filling his ears and encouraging to go faster.

his voice is shaky and strained as his hips jerk a few more times against the pillow, approaching his orgasm. a loud whimper falls from his lips as he cums, his mouth wide open and his hands gripping the mattress so hard it starts to cramp. his cum leaks through his boxers and onto the pillow and the mattress, his white ropes coating his bedsheets and creating a dirty mess that he’ll for sure have to pay for later.

it takes a second, maybe even longer, to come back to reality. for his breathing to slow, for the haze in his mind to clear just enough to register the cold wet feeling of the fabric sticking against his body.

and then it hits him.

“shit.”

he pushes himself up on shaky arms, breath still uneven and face completely flushed as he looks down. the pillow, his fucking pillow, is completely ruined, and he can’t even begin to process what this means.

what the fuck did he just do?

© jsbluu | please do not copy, reupload, or translate my work.

a/n: omg this was so freaky of me.. this was supposed to be like 400 words max but ummm somebody got a little carried away! if you know me irl don’t read this Please .. also theme change coming soon be warned

[gpcwsl]

could you do something where reader always tries to make alessia laugh because she loves to hear it? You can include fluff/smut/angst, whatever you want i trust you hehe

Alessia Russo x Reader

- I love your laugh -

MasterList

WC: 815

Warnings: nothing? Maybe short?

Like this new format (ish)?

The first time you heard Alessia Russo laugh, it stopped you in your tracks. It wasn’t just the sound—though it was beautiful, light, and completely infectious—but the way it made her eyes crinkle and her entire face light up. It was pure joy, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

From that moment, it became your mission to hear it again. And again.

You quickly learned that Alessia’s laugh wasn’t always easy to earn. Sure, she’d chuckle politely at a joke or smile at something mildly amusing, but that full-on, belly laugh you’d stumbled upon that first time? That required effort. Creativity.

And you were more than willing to put in the work.

It starts small, little moments where you test the waters.

“Alessia,” you say one day during a team meeting, leaning over to whisper. “What do you call a fake noodle?”

She raises an eyebrow, already suspicious, but humors you. “What?”

“An impasta,” you reply with a straight face.

She groans, shaking her head, but you catch the corner of her mouth twitching upward. “That’s terrible.”

“Terribly funny,” you counter, and she finally breaks, a soft giggle slipping past her lips.

It’s not the laugh you’re chasing, but it’s a start.

From there, it becomes a game for you. You find yourself going out of your way to say or do things just to see her smile. During training sessions, you deliberately exaggerate your moves, tripping over imaginary obstacles or doing an overly dramatic celebration whenever you score.

“Show-off,” Alessia teases one day after you slide across the grass like you’ve just won the World Cup.

“Jealous?” you shoot back, brushing dirt off your knees.

“Of that?” She smirks, but there’s warmth in her eyes.

And then it happens. As you attempt to recreate your “victory dance” a second time, you lose your balance and topple to the ground. The other players laugh, but it’s Alessia’s laugh that rings out above the rest, bright and uninhibited.

You stay on the ground a moment longer, grinning up at her. “Totally worth it,” you mumble, and she laughs even harder.

Over time, it becomes less about the jokes and more about the moments. The quiet ones, when it’s just the two of you.

Like the time you found her sitting alone after a tough game. She’d missed a crucial shot, and while no one blamed her, you could see the weight of it in her slumped shoulders.

You didn’t say anything at first, just sat down beside her and offered her a piece of gum.

She took it, unwrapping it slowly before glancing at you. “Thanks.”

“You know,” you said after a moment, “I was going to make a joke about how bad that shot was, but I figured I should wait until you’re not tempted to kick a ball at my face.”

Her lips twitched, and she shook her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re smiling,” you pointed out, nudging her gently.

She laughed softly, the sound like music to your ears.

Then there are the days when it’s effortless. When she’s in a good mood, and her laughter spills out freely, filling whatever space you’re in. Those are the moments you live for.

One evening, after a team dinner, the two of you end up walking back together. It’s late, and the streets are quiet, but you’re both buzzing from the night’s energy.

“Do you ever get tired of being this amazing?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence.

Alessia snorts. “Pretty sure that’s your job, not mine.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you agree. “But I’m thinking of retiring. You’re making me look bad.”

She rolls her eyes but laughs, the sound warm and familiar.

And then, without thinking, you say, “I love your laugh, you know.”

The words hang in the air, and you freeze, realizing how much weight they carry.

Alessia stops walking, turning to face you. “You do?”

There’s no point in backtracking now, so you nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah. It’s… I don’t know. It just makes everything feel better.”

For a moment, she just looks at you, her expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, she smiles—not the polite kind or the teasing one, but something softer, more genuine.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, her cheeks tinting pink.

You shrug, trying to play it cool even though your heart is racing. “No big deal. Just don’t stop laughing, okay?”

She laughs at that, and it feels like a promise.

From then on, things shift between you. Alessia starts seeking you out more, sitting beside you during meals, texting you random things that make her laugh, and even throwing a joke or two your way.

It’s not always about the laughter anymore, but it’s still your favorite thing. Because every time Alessia Russo laughs, it feels like the world is a little brighter—and you’re the luckiest person in it.

[chrissturnsfav]

chris and italian reader get caught mid make out

you're leaning against the bar at a buzzing club in milan, the bass of the music thumping through your chest.

the lights flash in chaotic patterns, reflecting off the glossy floors and designer shoes of people who probably have more money than you’ll ever see in your life. you swirl your drink casually, eyes scanning the dance floor when you notice him.

he has messy brown hair that looks effortlessly styled, his blue prada sweatshirt gleams under the lights, and even in the chaos, he stands out. there’s a confidence about him—the kind that says he’s used to attention.

then you realize, it's chris fucking sturniolo.

you’ve seen him on tiktok, maybe caught a few of his chaotic youtube videos with his brothers. funny, confident, a little cocky.

you didn’t expect to see him here, though. not in milan, not at this club.

his smirk widens when your eyes meet, like he caught you staring at him. you lift a brow, daring him to come over. and of course, he does.

"hey," he says, leaning close so you can hear him over the music. his voice is rough, confident. "you gonna keep starin' or say somethin'?"

"hm, cocky," you shoot back, your italian accent thick but sharp.

he grins. "yeah, well, it usually works for me."

you laugh, shaking your head. "fucking americans."

"fucking italians," he fires back playfully, and you can’t help but grin.

before you know it, you’re dancing with him, his hand on your waist behind you as the music pounds around you.

he’s smooth, sure of himself but not pushy. you match his energy, enjoying the way he watches you like you’re the sexiest thing in the room.

"wanna get outta here?" he asks suddenly, leaning close enough that his breath tickles your ear.

"where?" you giggle sensually.

"i dunno, somewhere quieter," he says with a smirk. "unless you’re scared."

"boy, i'm not scared," you scoff, grabbing his hand.

he laughs, letting you lead him toward a dark corner near the back exit. the music fades into the background, and before you can say anything, his lips are on yours—hot, confident, and unapologetic.

you don’t hold back, kissing him like you mean it. his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, his tongue sliding into your mouth without asking, tangling with yours as a hand slide down to your ass, your own hands in his hair.

"bro seriously, chris?" a voice cuts through you, your eyes shooting open.

you break apart, breathless, to see two guys standing a few feet away. identical to chris, but with expressions that scream what the fuck?

"what the hell are you doing?" one asks—nick, probably. or maybe matt.

"uh, making out?" chris huffs in annoyance, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "the fuck does it look like?"

"we’ve been looking for you for twenty minutes," the other brother says, exasperated. "the car's waiting."

"yeah, yeah," chris mutters, clearly unbothered. "i was busy."

you smirk, crossing your arms. "this a usual occurrence for you?"

he grins, unapologetic. "you got no idea."

his brothers are already walking back toward the exit, grumbling something about always being late because of chris.

he turns back to you, that cocky spark still in his eyes. "guess i gotta go."

"looks like it," you nod, pursing your lips that glisten in his and your saliva.

"you got a phone?" he asks, pulling his out without waiting for an answer.

"maybe," you snicker cheekily, taking his phone as he hands it to you, brushing your fingers against his in the process.

he chuckles. "sassy. i like it."

you type your number in, biting back a grin. "call me next time you're in italy," you say teasingly.

"yeah, i will," he says back with a smirk.

you nod, smirking right back at him as you turn on your heel to head back into the chaos, still looking at him over your shoulder.

and with one last grin, he jogs off after his brothers, leaving you breathless and a bit dizzy.

thank you for reading!! <3

tags 🏷️: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart , @slutformatt17 , @mattsturnii , @dominicfikeenthusiast , @mattsbratt333 , @ivysturnss , @tessasturns , @coquettechris , @courta13 , @sturniolo101

@chrissturnsfav ™

[luvacookie]

୨୧ say cheese.

choso kamo always gets what he wants in the end.

❥ warnings : kind of stalker choso, alcohol usage, light smut, photo taking, fem blk coded reader, intended use of lower case.

❥ cookie for ur thoughts ? : a little choso drabble bcs im going through it and need him biblically. also ignoring that ive been missing for 9 months…

possessive ! choso who likes to poke fun at you all the time, loving to get you all riled up because it’s cute to see you with an attitude

possessive ! choso who sneaks his way into your life almost daily, some how finding away to piss you off differently every single day

possessive ! choso who tells you that it’s just a joke and to lighten up when you snap at him

“it’s not fucking funny ! is it that hard to leave me alone ?” you shout at him, your hands resting on your hips.

he raises his hands, a small smirk on his face. “i’m sorry princess, forgot how sensitive you are.”

possessive ! choso who watches as you stomp away, muttering profanity under your breath about how much you hate his stupid face

possessive ! choso who had been following your every move for longer than you could imagine, silently stalking you on your socials and even going as far to sometimes stalk you in person

possessive ! choso whose gears grind when he sees you talking to literally any other male but him, you were his after all

“your new boyfriend is cute isn’t he ?” he asks playfully, though his joking demeanour doesn’t quite match the dull look in his eyes.

you scoff, “him ? my boyfriend ? you insult me. he’s just a friend.”

“that’s why you were all fucking over him, yeah ?” he mumbles, looking off to the side somewhere.

possessive ! choso who goes to all the same social events as you because it gives him an opportunity to see you all dolled up and outside of college

possessive ! choso who sees you at a party dancing with another guy and something inside of him snaps

possessive ! choso who drags you away from the random, forcing you into a close proximity with him and him only

“what the fuck !” you shout at him, mildly intoxicated and definitely angered.

“why were you all up on that guy y/n ? you know he was just trying to get a quick fuck from you,” he says harshly, missing the way your face contorts.

you scoffed in his face. “so what, maybe i wanted a quick fuck from him too.”

possessive ! choso whose blood boils at the statement, disgusted at the thought of that creep putting his cock in you

possessive ! choso who ushers you up stairs into the nearest bedroom, locking the door behind him

possessive ! choso who kisses you roughly as soon as he gets his hands on you

“such a needy slut huh ?” he mocks you, breathing heavily whilst you whine at him for more.

“shut the fuck up and kiss me choso,” you snap, dragging him back in for a longer, more heated makeout.

he moans against your lips and pushes you on the bed, “wanted this for so long princess.”

possessive ! choso leaving dark bites all over your exposed skin, warning off anyone who dared to come near you for the rest of the night

possessive ! choso undressing you swiftly then getting his phone out of his back pocket

“smile baby, want everyone to know who you belong to,” he mumbles, angling the camera over your body.

you comply with him, giving him a sweet, innocent smile.

“fuckkkk... i’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you,” he groans, the flash highlighting all your curves.

possessive ! choso who follows through on his words, giving you the most soul-shattering orgasm of your life

possessive ! choso who sets that picture as his lock screen when he’s done so he can always stare at your beautiful body and face

[maretinelli]

CRYING FOR EVERYTHING

Lando Norris X fem!reader

Summary: When Y/n is the most soft and crybaby person and this makes Lando laugh, but ends up comforting her when she cries over silly things.

Words: 4.1K+

Warnings: Nothing (??) Just cute and romantic.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. This can be funny but also sad because she cries over everything hahaha

MASTERLIST

Lando turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door to the apartment he shared with Y/n. A sweet, slightly buttery scent hung in the air, but he didn't comment on it right away.

He just smiled as he felt the warmth of home and called out in a light, excited voice: "Honey, I'm home!"

No response.

He frowned slightly and walked into the kitchen, where he found Y/n standing at the counter, staring at a cake. So absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't even notice his presence until she felt Lando's arms close around her waist, his chest warm against her back.

"What's going on here?" He asked quietly, peering over her shoulder at the cake, which looked perfectly baked.

Y/n blinked a few times, her eyes brimming with tears. "I asked for the recipe for the cake my grandmother made..." Her choked voice revealed how much it meant to her. "And I tried to recreate it, but it didn't work."

Lando stepped back a little, positioning himself next to her. He looked intently at the cake before turning his gentle eyes to his girlfriend.

"But he looks great."

She took a deep breath, fighting back tears, but when she pointed to the cut piece, she murmured, "It didn't turn out like Grandma's... And it even sank when it came out of the oven..."

The first tear fell silently.

Lando smiled slightly and took a slice of the cake, tasting it without hesitation. He chewed slowly, enjoying the taste, and then looked at her with a sincere smile.

"It's delicious."

But Y/n just quivered her pout before starting to cry again. "But it's not like Grandma's..." She sniffed, sobbing softly. "I wish you could have the experience of tasting her cake, but she died a long time ago and I don't know how to recreate the family recipes!"

Lando felt his chest tighten.

Without thinking twice, he dropped the slice of cake on the counter and pulled her into a tight hug, wrapping her completely, feeling her small sobs against his chest as she hid her face in her hands.

He stroked her hair lovingly and whispered, in a tender voice: "I know I can't taste your grandmother's cake, but I have something much better..."

Y/n moved slightly, looking at him with moist eyes. "What?"

Lando smiled, gently wiping away a tear with his thumb.

"The amazing experience of tasting all the wonderful cakes you make."

She sniffed, giving a weak smile through her tears, and Lando took the opportunity to hold her even tighter against him.

"And I will taste them all, every time."

Y/n chuckled softly, burying her face in the crook of his neck as Lando continued to cradle her in his cozy embrace.

•••••••••••••••••••••

The light rain beat against the apartment window, a comforting sound that filled the room amidst the soft dim light of the lamp. It was a quiet night, perfect for cozy moments.

Lando and Y/n had spent the day together, enjoying his day off and her vacation. In the late afternoon, they decided to ride their bikes around the city, returning just before the rain started. By now, Y/n had already showered and was comfortable on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, while Lando was still in the shower.

Before leaving, he had told her to start watching the series they were watching together for the third time.

Time passed, and Lando appeared in the living room, drying his messy hair with a towel. He was wearing only sweatpants, leaving his chest exposed to the night's cold.

"Honey, I hope you didn't watch too much without me, or else-"

He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed Y/n crying softly, wrapped in layers of blankets. The box of tissues rested on her lap, and her eyes were red and watery as she stared at the TV with a devastated expression.

Lando smiled, holding back a laugh. But then he put the towel he was using to dry his hair aside and approached his girlfriend.

"Crying over O'Malley's death again?" He said, gently pulling the blanket from her hair and leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead.

Y/n looked up at him, sobbing. "He... he, he..." She tried to speak, but her voice failed.

Lando crouched down beside her on the couch and wiped away the tears that were streaming down her cheeks.

"Breathe, love" Lando said softly, patiently waiting for the outburst he knew was coming.

Y/n sniffed, pulling out a tissue and wiping her nose before continuing, "He was treated like a nobody, and when he was dying, he managed to say he was 007. He... he died to save someone else, Lan..." Her voice wavered, and she looked at him, her eyes bright with emotion. "He died."

Lando bit his lip to contain his laughter.

"Honey... you knew this was going to happen. This is the third time we've seen it."

"But it doesn't make it any less sad!" Y/n retorted, crying softly.

Lando sighed fondly and pulled her into a tight hug. She buried her face in his bare shoulder, sobbing softly as he stroked her sweatshirt-covered back.

"I know, love. But it's just a series. He's fine in real life, filming another movie or something." He murmured against her hair.

Y/n sniffed again, lifting her face and looking at him. "You're cold. So cold." She said with a small sob, looking at his bare chest.

Lando chuckled at the observation and let her pull the blanket away, making room for him. He settled in beside her, pulling her down onto his chest as he slowly ran his fingers through the soft strands of her hair.

"There, now I'm warmed up" Lando joked.

Y/n sighed against him, relaxing a little.

Without saying anything, Lando grabbed the remote and skipped the episode, putting on the next one to avoid more tears.

"Hey!" Y/n protested softly.

"Pretty girls don't cry," he murmured, kissing the top of her head.

And, between one caress and another, Lando smiled as he realized that, little by little, Y/n's breathing was returning to normal, and the sadness of the episode already seemed a little more distant.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

Lando spent the afternoon organizing the apartment. It was rare to have a day off with Y/n, and he wanted to make the most of it. He cleaned every corner, straightened the couch cushions, washed the dishes, and even wiped the floor with a scented cloth. He wanted her to be able to just throw themselves on the couch and cuddle for the rest of the night when she got home from work.

It wasn't long before Y/n arrived, so he lit some scented candles, the same ones she loved and had been buying since before they started dating. The soft aroma filled the room, and he smiled contentedly as he saved the rest to use in the next few days.

As soon as he heard the key in the door, Lando came down the stairs excitedly, ready to surprise her.

"Honey, I cleaned the whole apartment!" He announced proudly, turning to her.

The smile disappeared as soon as he saw her face. Y/n was slowly taking off her shoes, her shoulders slumped, her expression dejected. She left her bag on the table, and Lando knew immediately that something was wrong.

If he knew his girlfriend well, he knew that if he spoke first, she would break down without being able to tell him what had happened. So he waited.

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes watery and her lips trembling before she murmured,

“When I was driving here, I saw two kitten brothers abandoned on the street…” Her voice broke, and a few tears escaped. “I thought about taking them in, but our building doesn’t allow pets, and my parents aren’t home to drop them off…” Her breath hitched, and she nervously picked at her nail polish. “I had to leave them there and just walk by…”

Lando felt lighter. For a second, he feared it was something work-related. But still, seeing Y/n so shaken broke his heart.

"Oh, love, come here" He said, opening his arms.

Y/n threw herself against him, wrapping her arms around his waist and crying softly into his shoulder. Lando wrapped her in a tight hug, running his hands comfortingly down her back.

"How could someone do this?" She sobbed. "To abandon two helpless puppies to die in the street..."

Lando sighed, hearing the pain in her voice. "I don't know, love. But we can do something." Y/n pulled her face away to look at him, and he took the opportunity to wipe the tears that were running down her cheeks. "We can go there and get them!" He suggested.

She shook her head, sniffling. "Lan... I've thought about that. But our building doesn't allow pets, and my parents don't get back from their trip until next week..."

Lando smiled slightly, shaking his head. "No, no, love. You know we're visiting my parents this weekend, right? We can take the kittens there."

Y/n frowned, not understanding. "What do you mean?"

Lando gently ran his thumbs over her cheeks, wiping away the last traces of tears, and smiled. "We can take them there. Flo will love taking care of them, and they'll have a home." Y/n's eyes filled with emotion again. "They only need to spend two days here, the building manager won't even notice. We can buy a carrier. The plane is animal-friendly, and they'll be well taken care of."

Y/n hesitated for a second, hope rising in her chest. "Do you think this is a good idea?"

"Sure. Let's do it."

The tears flowed again, but now they were of relief.

"Oh, okay. Tears again." Lando laughed, pretending to be dramatic.

Y/n lightly slapped his chest, sniffling. "I'm happy now, idiot."

Lando laughed and grabbed Y/n's hand, grabbing the car and apartment keys. "Then let's go, before they run away."

Y/n smiled and hurriedly put on her sneakers. Within minutes, the two of them left the apartment, ready to give their two little kittens a happy ending.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/n stopped by her parents' house after work just to say hi, but ended up staying a little longer than planned. They were doing a big cleaning and, among boxes and boxes of souvenirs, they separated some things for her to take to the apartment she shared with Lando.

"This is something nice for you to share with Lando" Her mother said, handing over a large box.

Curious, Y/n took the box without asking much. She didn't know exactly what was in there, but she decided it would be more fun to open it with Lando.

When she got home, she was excited, balancing the box with her computer bag, trying to unlock the door without knocking anything over.

Lando appeared quickly, taking the box from her hands before any disaster could happen.

"Wow, what's this?" He asked, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

"I have no idea," Y/n laughed, setting her bag on the table. "I stopped by my parents' house after work and they were cleaning out the attic. They gave me this box and said it was something cool to share with you."

Lando arched his eyebrow curiously. "Okay, now I'm interested too."

He followed Y/n into the living room, where she sat down on the rug and pulled the box closer. Carefully, she opened the lid and was greeted by a burst of memories.

Inside were several objects from her childhood: old dolls, her favorite shoe as a child, drawings scribbled with crayons and even a small notebook that looked like a diary.

"Oh my God!" Y/n exclaimed, picking up one of the dolls. "I played with this doll every day!"

Lando sat beside her, watching with a smile as she rummaged through the box, each new object bringing back a new memory.

"That shoe..." She picked up the little shoe in her hands, laughing. "I wore it for everything! My mother said I refused to take it off."

"Sounds like something you would do," Lando teased, making her roll her eyes.

She picked up a drawing and laughed.

“Okay, this is a little embarrassing.” She turned the paper toward him. It was a scribbled drawing, clearly made by a child. “I used to say I was going to be an artist, but looking back on it now, I think I was right to choose another profession.”

"I don't know..." Lando picked up the drawing, pretending to study it seriously. "I see great potential here."

Y/n lightly slapped his arm, laughing. But soon the laughter turned into something else.

Every new object I picked up brought a tightness to my chest. She thought her parents had gotten rid of those things years ago. Seeing everything there, intact, as if your childhood was preserved inside that box, was so moving.

Tears began to well up before she could stop them.

Lando noticed immediately and frowned, gently touching her arm.

"Hey... what's up?"

Y/n sniffed and smiled, even as tears fell. "I'm just... I'm happy." She ran a hand over her eyes. "I thought my parents had thrown all this away years ago... but they kept it."

Lando chuckled softly and pulled her into a side hug. "Are you crying because you're happy?"

"Yes!" She laughed between sobs, leaning her head on his shoulder.

He thought it was adorable. He wanted to laugh, because it was cute to see her so emotional, but he held back.

Y/n took the small journal from the box and ran her fingers over the worn cover. "This..." She sniffed. "I wrote about everything. My childhood crushes, my dreams..."

Lando took the diary from her hands and opened it to a random page.

"Today I saw a little dog on the street and I really wanted to take him home, but Mommy said I couldn't." He read it out loud and laughed. "Well, some things never change, do they?"

Y/n laughed, slapping his arm again. "You're insufferable."

"I'm a great boyfriend, actually."

She picked another drawing out of the box and laughed when she saw what it was. "Okay, you'll like this one."

Lando took the paper and widened his eyes when he saw a car scribbled on it. "Don't tell me..."

"Yes. That was my "dream race car" when I was five years old."

He looked at the drawing and then at her. "Can I say something?"

"What?"

"You definitely did well to choose another profession."

Y/n let out a laugh and threw herself at him, making Lando fall backwards onto the carpet with her on top. He laughed and held her tight, looking at her face still wet with tears, but now lit up with a smile.

"I love you" He said, running his thumb across her cheek.

"I love you too."

They stood there, surrounded by the memories of her childhood, while Lando knew that, from that moment on, he was also part of the best memories of Y/n's life.

The Silverstone race has always been special for Lando. Racing at home, with the British fans behind him, was indescribable. But that Sunday was even more magical. He didn't just race, he won.

With an impeccable strategy and aggressive driving, Lando held the lead in the final laps, crossing the finish line first. McLaren erupted in celebration. The fans chanted his name, the car radio filled with the team's cheers and the excitement took over.

In the garage, Y/n watched the moment alongside Cisca and Adam, Lando's parents. They treated her like a daughter, and nothing seemed more right than being there, celebrating with them.

"He did it!" Adam exclaimed, clapping his hands proudly.

"Our boy!" Cisca smiled, her eyes shining.

Y/n laughed, feeling her heart beat faster. She always knew Lando was capable of this. Since the first years in karting, since the difficult days, the doubts, the criticisms, she always believed.

Then the podium ceremony began. As Lando stepped onto the top step and raised the trophy to the British sky, something inside Yin broke. She began to cry softly, overcome with overwhelming pride.

Cisca, who already knew her daughter-in-law well, smiled and pulled her into a side hug. "He deserves it, doesn't he?" The mother-in-law said affectionately.

Y/n nodded through tears. "Very!!"

Without hesitation, she turned around and hugged Cisca tightly, crying on her mother-in-law's shoulder.

"Oh, honey" Cisca murmured, stroking Y/n's back. "He's so lucky to have you."

When Lando returned to the garage, still covered in champagne and with a giant smile on his face, Y/n was still crying.

Adam approached his son and murmured softly, somewhat worried. "She's been like this ever since you stepped onto the podium... And your mother hasn't been able to calm her down."

Lando chuckled, nodding in agreement.

He walked towards them, seeing Cisca still hugging Y/n, who was sobbing discreetly. Her mother also had tears in her eyes, but she tried to stay strong.

Cisca smiled when she saw her son and reached out her free hand to hug him. "I'm so proud of you, my dear" She said, squeezing him.

Lando returned the hug, closing his eyes for a moment. "Thank you for everything, Mom."

Cisca then looked at Y/n lying on her shoulder and made a comment to Lando. "I knew she was going to cry, but I thought she would stop before you arrived."

Lando laughed, approaching his girlfriend's side. "Love..." He ran his fingers through her hair, making Y/n look up with red, teary eyes.

She smiled at him, still crying. "You won at home, Lan..." She said, emotionally. "I always knew you were capable. All your effort paid off. I saw this potential in you from the beginning. I'm so proud of the man you've become, and I can say that because I've been with you for years. Years of being happy by your side and celebrating every victory."

Y/n's words hit Lando in a way he didn't expect. Suddenly, he felt his eyes burn as well.

"Thank you, love" He said, his voice breaking. "Thank you for always being here... I'm also proud of this strong, incredible woman you've become." He pulled her into a tight hug, and now they were both crying together.

Adam, who was watching the scene, widened his eyes. "Ah, there. Now we have two crybabies."

Cisca laughed, wiping away her own tears. "At least they cry with happiness."

Lando and Y/n pulled away a little, laughing through their tears. But when they looked at Cisca and Adam, they realized that Y/n's in-laws were watching them fondly.

"Those two are still going to get married," Adam commented quietly, crossing his arms. But the couple listened.

Cisca looked at her husband and nodded. "Yes, they will. Their love is true. Everyone can see that."

Lando looked at Y/n, who smiled at him. He didn't say anything, but at that moment,

They both knew: One day, this would really happen.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

The apartment was silent, except for the sound of the TV playing some series. Lando was snuggled up on the couch, with Y/n lying on his lap. Her legs were propped up on the back of the couch, while her boyfriend stroked her hair absentmindedly. It was a quiet night, just the way they liked it.

Y/n was on her phone, swiping her fingers aimlessly across the screen, until she found a folder of photos that she kept dearly. A folder full of photos of the two of them since the beginning of their relationship, when they were still 18 years old.

She began to scroll through the images slowly, looking at the younger versions of them. Some were silly selfies, others moments captured by friends. One in particular made her smile—Lando trying to make a face as she kissed his cheek.

Her smile quickly gave way to a tightness in her chest. Tears began to well up in her eyes as memories flooded back. Each photo told a story, a phase of their relationship, and the weight of their years together hit her hard.

Until she stopped at a photo. From the quality, you could tell it was old. They were hugging each other in the middle of the racetrack after Norris' F2 race, both smiling at the camera. Lando held his helmet under his arm, and Y/n's cheeks were flushed, as if she had just laughed.

A sob escaped before she could hold it back.

Lando, who was still running his fingers through her hair, noticed the sound and smiled. "Honey, you don't have to cry just because I stopped stroking your hair for a moment." He joked, without taking his eyes off the TV.

But when another sob came, he frowned and finally looked at her. Y/n bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears, but she couldn't.

Lando paused the series. "Hey, what happened?" He asked softly.

Y/n sat up slowly and handed him her phone. Lando looked at the photo and, as soon as he recognized it, he smiled.

"Hey, our first picture together as boyfriend and girlfriend." He chuckled a little, his eyes filled with nostalgia. "Look how we were still teenagers."

Y/n smiled through her tears and snuggled closer to him, peeking at her phone screen as Lando handed the device back to her.

"I have more" She said, sliding to the side.

Lando watched as she scrolled through each photo, pausing for long seconds on some. Her eyes were shining, full of emotion. Until, upon reaching a specific image, Y/n dropped the phone on her lap and cried.

It was a normal night in Lando's room, when they were still in their twenties. The picture showed Y/n lying on the bed, wearing one of his baggy t-shirts and sweatpants, her hair messy on the pillow. She was laughing, her eyes shining with joy, while Lando held the camera with one hand and stretched his arm out to capture the moment. He was smiling too, his face close to hers, his cheeks flushed as if he had just laughed along with her.

It was one of those spontaneous photos, without poses or worries. Just the two of them, young and in love, living a peaceful and happy moment.

Lando chuckled, turning to her. "Baby, why are you crying like that?"

Y/n raised her head, her eyes red and teary. "Because I love you," she said with a choked voice. "You're the love of my life, Lan. I'm so happy to have been with you for so many years... I... I'm just crying with happiness."

Lando's heart melted. He ran his fingers down her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and smiling. "We'll spend many, many years together," he promised. "I don't want any other life than with you, Y/n. You're my best friend, my companion... The person who knows me better than I know myself. I'm so grateful that you're with me."

Y/n cried harder, hiding her face in his shoulder. "I love you so much."

"I love you so much, love" He murmured, holding her close.

After a few minutes, she picked up her phone again and looked at the photos. Now, between one funny comment and another, Lando laughed at her reactions.

"Honey, why are you crying now?"

"Because this picture is perfect! Look how beautiful you are!"

In it, Lando was in overalls, still sweaty and disheveled, sitting on the step of the McLaren motorhome. His smile was huge, radiant, as he held a bottle of water in his hand and smiled at his girlfriend. But the most special detail was Y/n, sitting one step below him, holding his face between her hands and looking at him with a sparkle in her eyes.

Lando hadn't even realized that photo existed. Probably someone on the team had recorded the moment without them knowing.

"You cry over everything, you know that?" He laughed, shaking his head. "And I'm all sweaty in this picture. Far from looking good."

"Oh, mind your own business!" Y/n laughs, pushing him lightly on the couch and making him laugh out loud.

But Lando was already used to that. Since he was 18, he had been dating the sweet girl who cried at everything. At first, he thought it was because of those female hormones, but he soon discovered that Y/n was, in fact, a sentimental girl who valued every detail.

At the beginning of their relationship, her parents had to help him understand this. They said that their daughter had been like this since she was a baby and that when she started crying, it was best to let her get it all out.

Over time, Lando learned his own ways to soothe her. He knew that holding her tight helped. That whispering sweet words in her ear made her sobs lessen. And that sometimes she just wanted to know he was there.

And Lando always would be.

He wouldn't change a thing about her. Because he loved Y/n exactly the way she was.

[holyguardian]

That grin was contagious, one glance was all it took for Aerith to mirror the expression with a hint of pride. She wasn't ashamed of her weaknesses so much — perhaps it was a good thing for Somnus to be aware of such things, like her slow descent into chaotic actions when she grew bored of a task.

"... mh. That's a sweet thought." she conceded, gaze lowering to the bound parchment again. Some of the papers were warped from being painted heavily with water strokes. Perfectly imperfect, nothing neat or proper about her soul or true heart. That sounded right. "You are more than welcome to look through them, I'm not precious about guarding my paintings. Though I would rather you look at this one especially." she insisted, giving the bound pages a small wave before passing them to him for safe-keeping. "It's some of the most recent things I have painted, and I find I don't flinch away when I look back at them."

When Aerith lifted her gaze properly to the Prince again, she found herself humming a curious tone as she tilted her head. She followed his own gaze. Her mouth opened around a silent 'ah' of realisation, and for a moment she seemed to gentle in both her expression and her stance.

"This... is my birth father." she answered, captivated by her mother's painting so much so that she continued to look upon it. "He died when I was only a baby. Mum... she did her best. Tried to build a connection to him, I suppose, but... I was so little, I didn't understand that I was missing something, you know?"

Aerith sighed a little, her shoulders melting into a more relaxed posture. Finally she looked back to Somnus again. "I get it now that I'm older. I wish I had gotten the chance to know him in life, but I am blessed to have met his spirit. The one thing I will say is... don't be ashamed of noticing him. For pointing him out, some people are funny about death like that." Though Lucis seemed to honour their dead's memory with great care too.

Amidst their conversation came a gentle knock at the door. Her lady's maid must have heard their voices here. "Princess Aerith, the bath is prepared."

That small announcement made her perk up with a smile. "Thankyou!" she replied, bright-eyed as she looked back to Somnus. "Right. Let's show you how we do bath time here, you're going to need one thing first."

Aerith approached her wardrobe, easily pulling free a couple large robes, one she placed aside and the other she handed to Somnus. "You'll need that. We don't dress ourselves in the same room where we have a bath, the air is steamy, and you're begging for a mess. So, once we're clean, we dry ourselves down as good as we can then we put on that robe. Trust me. They're.. modest." she offered. "It's a little odd, maybe, but we walk like that from the bath, back to our room. It's very uncommon for anyone to just walk a royal wing without good reason, but because it's so obvious among the staff that a bath has been drawn up, I cannot stress enough that no one will see you."

It was her little promise to him.

"Follow me." Aerith offered. She gestured to their shared chamber door. "You will obviously come back and enter through that door. The bath is the first door on the right." She opened up the door and gestured him inside. Inside was a wooden tub, and inside that tub was lined with a white cloth. The water itself was a milky colour and it smelled of flowers, yet another difference from Lucis. "Alright. Sponge there. When you're stepping back out, stand on that folded cloth unless you like to live recklessly, the stone can sometimes be slippery if it's too wet." Then she rolled her wrist. "And enjoy." she offered, smiling as she pulled the door shut behind her, giving him his privacy.

A map of her childhood. And she had just handed him the key to reading it perfectly. Just like that. Somnus could appreciate this fact. His eyes wandering over all the various paintings, he could imagine a smaller Aerith sitting at her table. Probably propped up on her knees with paint all over hands and face already as she focused oh-so-hard on drawing her family.

She must be similar now. It was apparent that she never paused long in her drawings. The table was evidence enough. She still painted. A lot. And she bound her work – forced or not. That was a large part of her… and Somnus liked it.

Grinning at the difference in bindings, he let his fingers trail along the frayed and neat edged for a moment. He wanted to see all her works. But he did not dare to simply take and flip through all these parchments. This was highly… intimate somehow.

“I heard people say they put their souls and true heart in what they paint.”, he mused, looking at her bound artworks, “If you would allow me to see yours one day, I would be honoured.”

The small grin shifting into a smile, Somnus nodded towards the epicentre of it all. The drawing coming from Queen Ifalna. A man with brown hair and a moustache. He looked kind. Funny, a little. But it was no one that Somnus knew.

“Who is he?”

[paetalks]

the first time sukuna ryomen hears 212 by azealia banks it’s through the walls of his room that he shares directly with your bathroom. your voice sounds muffled over the loud bass base that is pounding a hole in his head while he’s trying to focus on his pc. he’s trying to write a paper for college and it’s almost impossible with all the noise you have been making. you weren’t a bad neighbor overall - i mean, he has never seen you in person - but the music you would blast while showering was absolutely insufferable to him. you always kept quiet, day and night, never run around or moved furniture. sukuna has been living there for well over a month and everything was going well, apart from the fact that you loved singing in the shower. it was okay the first times, really, but lately the songs kept getting louder and louder. and it was all annoying, girly club music. the one he couldn’t really stomach.

so when he hears the first notes of yet another kim petras’ song he gets up from his chair and bolts out the apartment, ringing at your doorbell. it takes a while for the volume to be turned down, and ever more for you to reach the door. when you crack it slightly open, you see a tall, tattooed, attractive, muscular man looking down at you with pure hatred in his eyes. your brain goes blank and you let the door slip from your hands, opening fully only to reveal your towel-covered body and damp hair. his eyes widen, but never leave your frame or seem to be less angry. “hi?” you say, confused.

“hi.” his voice is deep, his sentences short and cutting “would you mind turning the damn music down?”

“oh” you frown, looking at him from head to toe. you notice how he’s wearing grey sweat pants and a black sabbath’s t-shirt that looks like it has seen better days. his hair is all over the place. a smirk makes its way to your face. “yeah, i would actually mind. i was kinda in the middle of something…” you gesture back to the direction in which the music is still coming from and your towel falls slightly lower.

the stranger’s eyes follow your hands as you pull it up again, rolling them afterwards. “i’m trying to work here.” he gestures (mocking you) at his front door, right next to yours.

“okay?” you purse your lips. “i don’t think that’s any of my business really. i’m just playing some good music.”

“good?” his eyebrows furrow. “you don’t even know what good music is.”

you roll your eyes. “okay, stranger. go ahead and insult me right in my house.” you chuckle ironically, meanwhile ayesha erotica starts playing in the background. “oooh, i love this song!” you squeal, and his eyes dart quickly between the direction in which the music is coming from and your body. your frame hugged by that towel is making him rethink being mad at you.

before he can say anything else, you smile forcefully. “gotta go back in there. byeeee!” and you close the door right in front of his face.

he stands there for a while, eyes widened and twitching. how can you be so hot and yet so annoying? he starts asking himself while walking back to his room. he sits back in his chair and as soon as he decides to surrender for the day and give up on his work, the music finally stops. sighting in relief, he opens his laptop again, still thinking about you and how that little towel wasn’t even covering all that much.

you definitely will be a problem, he thinks, taking a deep breath finally in silence.

or so he thinks, because not even a second later the first notes of paranoid from black sabbath start playing at full volume on your speaker. he laughs with himself. “she’s funny” he mumbles, shaking his head, secretly hoping to bump in you again soon.

sorry guys just had a shower and thought aboyt this. also i love music bye <3 hope you get all my songs references i’m sorry

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

Hi! Can I request some headcannons for yandere Transformers One Starscream? With the reader who is also apart of the High Guard, the reader’s personality is sweet, kind, and bubbly. Thank you for reading this!

(づ￣ 3￣)づ Oh, that fine mech of a guard,,, Starscream,,,

(TFO) Yandere!Starscream w/ a High Guard!Cybertronian!Reader (HCs)

WARNINGS: Yandere behaviour, possessive behaviour, marking. Reader is gender neutral and a cybertronian (alt mode not mentioned).

TFO!Starscream's path to become a yandere is a slow burn one.

You two met when you and him started to work as part of the High Guard and in the beginning Starscream would have highly doubted you because of your personality.

Sweet, kind, bubbly - a walking ray of sunshine. How the frag did you manage to become both a potential candidate to be part of the High Guard and actually part of it?

Starscream kept his doubts to himself - as much as he wanted to call out your personality, he decided to let time tell if you were actually worthy and capable to be part of the High Guard or not. After all, he had to focus on himself and his new job.

"I really hope we get to be part of the same squad, Starscream!" You said with your bright smile, optics holding sparkles as you looked at the seeker.

Staring at you for a moment, Starscream looked away to hide the light blue hue appearing on his cheekplates "... I hope so, too."

How funny destiny works - it was your sweet personality that made the seeker slooowly fall in love with you.

No matter how harsh the day was, how tiring the tasks were - you always kept your smile and supported the others. And by Primus, you knew how to fight when needed! It made Starscream's spark sigh.

With Soundwave's and Shockwave's support (and constant call out about his crush on you), Starscream would have been the one to start the relationship, courting you and proving himself to be the perfect potential conjux for you and only you.

He makes sure to let the others know you are his, you are taken, he has his optics on you and that he will not step back. He is going to become an unstoppable force.

His yandere traits would have started to come out to the light in that courting phase, even more if there was another bot that was also trying to court you - my TFO!Starscream would be a possessive, territorial yandere.

I don't think he would have played dirty to get to become your conjux, this mech would have proved himself to be better than any other bot that tried to court you. Strong, a mech that works hard, intelligent, but that's sweet and shows his love for you whenever he gets to hold your servo and whisper you how much he loves you.

When you accepted to take him as your conjux, with that precious laugh full of joy and tears of happiness in your precious optics, you both decided to finally complete the conjux ritus in the following cycles.

Alas, as destiny brought you together, it also decided to be cruel - because both of you didn't got to meet that dreamed day of celebrating becoming each others conjux endura, since the killing of the Primes happened that horrible day...

After you all, or the ones that got to escape and hide from the Quintessons and the corrupted guards that followed Sentinel, in the middle of the night, everyone mourned.

As you cried your optics out and hugged your legs against your chestplate, Starscream held you close, letting you hide your faceplate against his shoulder as his servos caressed the back of your helm.

Your dreams of a peaceful Cybertron free of the Quintesson's wrath, the fact that now your people was doomed with the loss of the 13 Primes and the Matrix, the loss of many of your guard friends and the even bigger loss of your home, of not being able to come back to Iacon - it broke you.

And it broke Starscream too.

To hear your cries it made his spark clench and a need to destroy everything make his whole frame shake.

He would kill Sentinel the moment he got to place his servos on that traitor - for having the Primes and many of his teammates get killed, for having team up with the Quintessons - and for having made you cry and mourn.

"Starscream - what- what we are we gonna do?" You cried softly. The seeker gently snuggled his helm against yours, managing to bring you comfort and make your sobs soften.

"We'll keep fighting. We'll remain in the shadows but keep fighting, do anything to make him fall in front of the Quintessons and then avenge our fallen Primes. And I promise, after that, we'll see our Cybertron bloom in pride and joy again, and become conjux endura of the other, as we wished to." He promised in whispers, kissing your forehelm and letting you recharge in his arms, safe and sound.

He never lets you out of his sight, letting the fear slowly eat him alive at the idea of losing you.

Holds you closely whenever you decide to take a break from smiling - you've tried to keep that bubbly, kind personality of yours even after the tragedy... and it makes Starscream want to end it all, his poor, precious sweetspark. You shouldn't be suffering like this.

He will make Sentinel suffer for having tainted your precious, gentle spark.

Starscream would start to develop a need to mark you - and you let him, it grounds you and it makes him feel his spark set on fire to keep going, to keep fighting in your name.

As he sits on his throne back in the hideout, you sit on his lap, and when your smile wavers and your optics fill with tears after coming back from patrolling and stealth missions, he kisses your tears away.

"Don't cry, my love. We'll get our revenge, and we'll be free."

Hope y'all liked it! (❁´◡`❁) Vhaos out!

[cherry-romper]

Mk1 cuddling hcs with the guys pretty please🙏

Cuddling Headcannons

+ Lui Kang, Kung Lao, Raiden, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, Tomas Vrbada, Johnny Cage, Kenshi Takahashi, Syzoth, Shang Tsung.

Warnings; none

Contains; GN!reader, Fluff.

Liu Kang;

Adores holding you close. He’s been alone for so long and lost so much, he can’t bear the thought of losing everyone again, let alone you.

Will hug you however he can, he doesn’t really have a favourite. 

However, he likes being the big spoon. 

But he prefers when you lay facing each other, it's more intimate.

Kung Lao;

Not a huge hugger, but gives the best hugs. When he does hug you, he’ll lift you off the ground, every time. Without fail.

He loves to hold you close in other ways, like hand holding or arm linking. 

He also likes when you put your leg over his when you’re sat together instead of cuddling. 

All goes out the window when you lay together, he loves being the big spoon. Is insulted if you suggest him being the little spoon. 

Raiden;

Soft hugs and forehead touches. 

Doesn’t need to be touching you to feel intimate with you. He crumbles under intense eye contact. 

Sometimes, however, he does love a long, deep cuddle. Soaking in as much of you as he can, especially if one of you is going away for a while.

Big spoon, but not opposed to being the little spoon. Prefers when you lay on his chest tho. 

Bi-han; 

Not a hugger. He shows affection in other ways, like forehead and shoulder touches. 

Though, on the odd occasion, he’s been known to pull you in from one of those shoulder touches and give you a hug.

Most of your intimacy comes from laying together. He likes you on his chest or being the big spoon. 

Though, when he’s stressed, he rests his head in your lap or on your chest to hear your heartbeat. 

Kuai Liang;

Likes laying his head in your lap. He loves looking up at you. 

He gives really good hugs. With his body heat and his strength, there’s no safer place. 

He gives out hugs sparingly, but loves cuddling with you.

Prefers when you’re facing each other, your head snuggled in his chest, him holding your hands. 

Tomas Vrbada;

The hugs of all time.

He adores hugging and cuddling you whenever he gets the chance. His face will light up if you ask him for a hug or if you just do it to surprise him. 

Cannot get enough of you. Loves any form of physical touch. Hand holding, arm linking, just resting on each other, leg over his, his arm around you, playing with each other’s hair, touching your face, piggy backs, anything and everything. 

Same goes for cuddling, he’ll just hold you as close as he can. He LOVES you.

Johnny Cage; 

Holds you like a handbag. He shows you off so often. 

Loves putting his hands on your waist or hips to pull you in. This is also where he will hold you when you hug, your arms around his neck.

Will have his arm around your waist 24/7. He cannot let you go. 

Loves when you use his arm as a pillow, just laying and talking to him. His arm does go dead though, so you move onto his chest. Likes when you trance on his chest and abdomen.

Kenshi Takahashi;

So careful in the way he touches you. LOVES to trace your skin and your face. Getting to know every single part of you off by heart.

Keeps an arm around you or a hand on your shoulder when you’re walking around. Even though he’s capable of navigating on his own, he trusts you to lead him.

Likes having your head on his chest, either in a hug or when you’re cuddling in bed.

Holds you close when you cuddle, his head nuzzled against yours.

Syzoth;

Considerate of the temperature imbalance and tries to account for that with sheets or extra layers. He’s cold blooded, so sometimes his touch can shock you. 

When it comes to hugs, despite the cold, he’ll hold you close. Even despite your protests he’ll keep holding you because he finds it funny.

Loves skinship, but is fine if you don’t want to or if you’re too cold to touch him. 

Likes when you lay on his chest but also likes spooning. He’s fine with either.

Shang Tsung; 

Does not like hugs but is okay with cuddles. 

He prefers other intimate acts like eye contact and arm linking.

He’s okay if you initiate a hug, but more often than not he’s too busy to reciprocate or just doesn’t want to. 

Cuddles are fine, but it's only for a while, he’ll hold you till you fall asleep then he’ll turn over. However, he likes to keep a part of himself touching you, like his leg or an arm, so he knows you're still there. Even though he won’t act like it he’s scared of loosing you. 

[trustmypoison]

Ateez confessing to their best friend

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘‘Can you please do a headcannon of ateez confessing to their bestfriend that they have a crush on them?‘

Hongjoong

I think there would be an unspoken tension between you two that you’re afraid to address. When you think about it, there always has been. It’s something you dance around for a while until you just can’t. But you’re visiting him late in the studio one night and you both are looking at something together, sitting close, and then suddenly you’re kissing. When it’s time to come up for air, he feels quite a bit of confidence in saying, “I guess we should talk about that.” 

Seonghwa

He’s stunning and you’re not blind. Neither are a lot of other people. The thing is, he turns down people left and right. You don’t think anything about it at first, but when an idol that everyone chases after asks him out and he says, “Oh thank you, but I’m not interested,” you just have to ask. When you bring it up, he initially shrugs it off. When you ask if he’s already interested in someone, he flushes and says “It’s not important.” It’s only after a little arm-twisting that he finally admits he’s interested in you. He’d feel a lot of fear about this moment but would be so, so relieved if you returned his feelings. 

Yunho

You both already act like you’re dating so why are both of you surprised?? (I’m sorry, all I can see is the friends to lovers fic I wrote for him.) This sort of creeps up on him in a way that once he realizes how he’s always looking for and reaching for you, he can’t unsee it. I do think there would have to be an external force that would compel him to confess. Like if you were asked on a date by someone else and you asked his opinion, he would find himself saying, “I’d really rather you not.”

Yeosang

So fucking casual!! So casual in fact that it feels like it came out of left field. He just straight up asks you out and you have this horrible moment of confusion before the panic sets in, because you can’t ask something like that so casually after years of friendship!! But he does and he accepts that it’s a shock for you, but he really just wants to get it off of his chest. He’d totally go back to normal if you didn’t like him like that, but if you did? Not so casual anymore because the relief is obvious!! The casualness was totally fake!!

San

He’s so touchy that this is another one that to strangers you look like you’re dating. But the thing is, he’s touchy even when no one else is around. So imagine cuddling up to him on the couch and he goes in to kiss your cheek like he’s done a million times. Naturally (and stereotypically) you turn your head at just the right time that he ends up kissing the corner of your lips. He likes to see you flustered and acts like he doesn’t understand why. “That was a little close, don’t you think?” You’ll laugh nervously. He’ll shrug in a strong attempt to be casual and ask if that’s a bad thing. If you question if he actually would want to kiss you, he says, “Yes of course,” in an instant. 

Mingi

This is totally an overnight realization. One day, he wakes up and sees you that day and thinks, “Uh when did I become attracted to them??” His attitude will do a 180. He’s totally avoidant, and when he can’t avoid you he’s totally awkward. You actually think you might have done something wrong and one of the group members has to step in. The problem is that he’ll have let this go so long that you’re mad by the time he’s ready to talk. He has to confess and grovel. 

Wooyoung

He confesses so many times in so many ways and you really think he’s joking. It’s funny to him at first because he thinks you’re just a little dense. But over time, the confessions get increasingly more serious and you still aren’t getting it. This will be to the absolute delight of his members to watch him struggle with this. Eventually, he’ll reach a breaking point and just pull you into a kiss because it seems words just aren’t working. His head might explode when you ask, “Wait, are you into me???” and he’s just like, “Yes!!! I kept trying to tell you!!!”

Jongho

Another stereotypical moment, but bear with me. You have a bad partner that just isn’t treating you right and you’re upset for the millionth time. He’s almost scolding you when he says you shouldn’t put up with that sort of treatment and you can do worlds better. But you might be a little jaded that all relationships are like this. If you express this, he’ll just snap and say, “I wouldn’t be like that.” That’s most certainly something that he can’t back out of now. Not that he wants to because bitterness about watching you suffer in your current relationship has been building for a while and he has a lot to say.