#but it’s so so so hard to do in the heat of the moment

[mostly-imagines]

Motion Sickness

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason makes you cry after a fight

warnings: angst with comfort

“Jason—”

He waves you off immediately, “No, I’m not your problem, okay?”

Your arms drop, “You’re not a problem at all, that’s not what I’m saying—”

“Then what are you saying?” he challenges. 

You almost bite your tongue but then decide against it, “I’m saying you’re being an asshole right now just because I tried to help.”

He’s angry and you’re someplace in between desperate and tired, but you push on, hoping you’ll be able to solve this without an extended argument. To little avail though, apparently. 

A tense exhale from him, “I don’t need your help, I don’t know how I can make it any clearer.”

“It’s not about needing it—”

“No, it’s about wanting it. I don’t want your fucking help,” he snaps. “I’m grown, I can handle my problems myself.”

You drop your hands to your sides, “Then what am I doing here, Jason?”

“I don’t know!” You can literally see the regret sweep over his face but he lets the moment consume him and the words linger anyways. 

You know he doesn’t always think before he talks, especially when he’s mad. You’ve seen it plenty when he’s fighting with his family. This is the first time it’s shown up with you though, and while you know it’s not coming from a place of genuinity—it still really fucking stung. 

Far from being in your control, tears slip out, more at his tone than his words, and you remove your gaze in favor of the linoleum tiles. He says nothing as you start to cry, which only makes the heat of the moment worsen. 

“Okay,” You take a deep breath, pursing your lips. “You need to go away.”

There’s a long, hard moment of silence, but ultimately he doesn’t fight you on it, only exhales harshly and slams the door on his way out.

The resulting reverberation of the apartment has your shoulders shaking, tears falling onto your shirt.  

You and Jason don’t fight often but when you do it’s usually about insecurities and fears coming forward. He’d been having a bad night to start with and all you wanted to do was make him feel better but he wasn’t willing to talk to you or let you do anything for him. He gets selfishly selfless like that, but you know why.

You know him, in and out. You could’ve anticipated this—you should’ve. You should’ve approached the topic more sensitively. And it’s not his fault, his life has taught him that it’s safer to believe that other people don’t have his best interest. You know that. 

Yeah, you know him in and out, but he knows you in and out, too. He knows you’ve shown him nothing but kindness and generosity since the day you met and you’ve reinforced a thousand times how safe you are for him. But if he still can’t trust you to care about him, then what are you doing here?

You let yourself fall back onto the arm of the couch, huffing in defeat. 

It’s nearing two in the morning when Dick awakens, the bandages across his abdomen digging into his skin uncomfortably. He sits up, bedsheet pooling around his waist. The ache of the bruising pushes him towards his old bedroom door before he’s even fully coherent, narrowly missing shouldering the door frame as he passes through.

He’s still half asleep as he thumps down the staircase, cold hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatshirt. He’s so out of it in his blind search for painkillers, that he nearly misses the large shadowed figure huddled up on the couch.

Dick stills, blinking warily.

“What’re you doing here?”

His younger brother says nothing, only continues to stew in the shadows, staring at the rug.

As his eyes adjust, Dick takes in his appearance: messy hair, tired eyes, only clad in a t-shirt and sweatpants.

He rubs his eyes, approaching with measured steps, “What happened?”

Jason remains silent for a long minute before grunting out, “Got in a fight.”

Dick nods slowly, shuffling forward a little more to sit on the far end of the couch. 

“What’d you do?”

Jason doesn’t have it in him to comment on how his brother immediately knew he was the issue. It just makes the entire thing hurt even worse. Instead, he tells the truth. 

“Be myself.”

Dick says nothing, 

When the silence persists, Jason elaborates, even though it’s the last thing he wants to admit to.

“I made her cry,” he says, voice below even a whisper. He hates it and he hates himself for leaving you when he knew he’d hurt you.

Dick nods, not saying anything. He’s definitely been there before, though he’s not nearly as volatile as Jason can be, so he can imagine how this likely played out. In any case, Jason has never responded well to being pushed to talk about his feelings so Dick lets him get there in his own time.

He’s half expecting to end up with no results at all, but Jason pipes up after a minute, voice broken.

“I don’t know what she wants me to do,” he rasps.

Dick takes a deep breath, adjusting his posture. “When girls are mad you give them space but when they’re sad you definitely don’t. Is she sad or mad?”

Jason exhales desperately.

“Both, I think.”

Dick nods, understanding.

“Then go home.”

Jason shakes his head, defeated. “She told me to leave. She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“What did you say?”

He huffs, not wanting to bring the memory back up. “I basically told her to fuck off.”

“Yeah,” Dick drawls. “I wouldn’t let that simmer.”

Jason’s head snaps over to him. “She’ll break up with me?”

“No, I don’t—” Dick pauses, thinking over his words. “It’ll be fine. Just go home.”

Despite taking the long route on the way to the manor, Jason sped back home on his bike, now unwilling to leave you alone for another second longer than he had to. 

He creeps through the front door of your apartment, proud and only a little hurt that you’d remembered to lock it. 

The apartment’s mostly quiet, nothing but a lamp lighting up the front half. He can hear the shower running from where he stands, the waterfall noise awfully muffled from behind the closed bathroom door.

He bolts the door behind him, pushing forward towards the hallway. He approaches the bathroom door, noticing how there’s no light flooding out from underneath.

“Baby?” Jason calls it out quietly, like he’s scared to commit to alerting you of his presence.

He hears no response, but he knows you heard him. He knows you heard him in the same way that he knows you’re sitting on the shower floor, curled in on yourself under the sensory relief that the pouring water brings. He doesn’t know how, he just does.

So he leans against the door, listening closely, and calls out again, “Can I come in?”

There’s a solid ten seconds of silence before you respond, just barely audible over the cascade of water.

“Not right now.”

Your volume has him wincing, saddened and embarrassed that he’s the one that made you feel like this.

He reluctantly walks back to the bedroom with heavy shoulders, thudding his weight down on the mattress. He sits half folded over himself for the next ten minutes, thinking only of you, sitting alone in the shower with your thoughts.

He perks up considerably when he hears the water shut off, and after several long minutes, you emerge from the bathroom, towel wrapped around your middle.

He stands up when you enter the bedroom, hands stiff and awkward at his sides. You barely look at him, having trouble willing yourself to do more than glance. 

Your eyes fall downward, your lips pursing. You instinctually move to clutching the towel tighter around you, more than anything because you don’t know what to do with your hands. 

It makes his heart break to see you so out of comfort around him—because of him—so he gives you the benefit of privacy, turning around so you can get dressed. It kills him to do it, makes him feel like he’s just some stranger in your life rather than him. But he supposes that he deserves to feel like that right now. 

Whether or not you wanted him to turn around goes unsaid, he can only hear the quiet shuffling of you putting clothes on.

He waits until the movement stops, after he hears the squeak of the bed springs and the faint sound of the sheets being pulled up.

He turns around again with a silent sigh, taking in the sight of you laying in bed, back turned to him.  

He approaches slowly, stopping just before his knees hit the mattress. He notices quickly that the t-shirt you’d chosen was one of your own. He frowns.  

“Sweetheart. Can I touch you?” His voice is soft and low, like he’s trying to coax you back out to him.

It takes a long few moments, but you nod.

He sits down on the bed, still hesitant to go through with it.

“Will you turn over?”

An even longer pause and you’re flipping over to face him. You don’t make eye contact, only look blankly past him. Your blinks are heavy, and even in the dark, he can see that your eyes are still bloodshot. 

He brushes your hair back, his fingers feather-light against you, like he’s scared to touch you too harshly. Like he’s touching porcelain.

He lets you hold the silence for a while, reasoning with himself that you’ll talk when you’re ready.

You let it go on longer than he’d hoped, past the point of him knowing what to do with it. He’d hoped you’d yell at him. He can take that, he knows he can. He can see plainly that you’re thinking deeply and wants more than anything for you to say it, scream it if you have to. 

He knows he deserves it and he frankly would take anything over the silence. But then again, he doesn’t deserve the reprieve, does he? No, but he’s not strong enough to deny himself the chance to hear your voice.

“Say it,” he urges. “Please.”

Your fingers tap against the bed sheets for a moment before you sit up, almost defeated. 

You face him, taking a breath and relenting. “I don’t like that you said that to me.”

He nods, brow deep. “Me neither.”

Your shoulders sag at that, and you feel stuck in the moment. You feel guilty too but you don’t know if you should. He didn’t mean it, you know that, and they weren’t his words, really. But the snap of his voice when he’d said it and the look on his face—it made you feel terrible. It still does.

You look awkwardly to the left, feeling heavily spectated by him and so hyper-conscious of all of your movements. The downturn of your lips gives way to burning in your eyes and before you can do anything about it, tears are spilling out. 

Jason sees it immediately, his head lulling helplessly. 

“Oh, baby. Please don’t cry, please.”

But that only makes it worse, the tears falling faster and heavier at his soft tone.

He forgoes asking permission and pulls you directly into his chest, a firm hand on the back of your head. It’s what you needed though, to be close to him right now.

“I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry, baby—” he murmurs against your hair, pressing a rough kiss as he holds you tighter.

You shake your head, sniffling. “It’s okay, Jay.”

“No, it’s not.”

That sentiment lingers for several minutes, as he holds you cheek to chest and rubs soothing patterns into your hair.

It’s not long before you’re able to fully relax against him, his touch feeling nothing short of therapeutic. Your breathing eventually levels out back to baseline and your thoughts start to find peace amongst themselves.

When you’re ready, you sit back from him, letting him see your face again.                    

He visibly winces as he scans over the tears on your cheeks, how they’re starting to stain.

You’re still upset, a little, but not nearly as much as you’re sure your face is conveying. 

“It’s okay,” you tell him, wiping your eyes with your sleeve.

He shakes his head, “If I ever say something like that to you again, hit me. I’m serious.”

You drop your hand onto your lap, tilting your head at him with a serious look. “I’m not going to hit you—”

“Then break up with me. Don’t ever let somebody talk to you like that, especially not me.”

His voice is hard and you can tell the impact of his words have every bit of weight intended.

Your mouth closes and you waver unsure of where to go with that. Your gaze falls down to where your hands lie discarded on your lap and there’s a palpable shift to the air in the room.

“Hey.” He pushes your chin up to make you look at him, “Listen to me. You’re the love of my life. You hear me? I’m supposed to take care of you, make you happy. I don’t…I can’t talk to you like that. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Your eyes flicker back and forth across each others and you can see the genuine sincerity etched plainly across his face.

He processes the comprehension across your own before his jaw tenses for a moment and he adds, “Nobody’s gonna talk to you like that, much less me. Yes?” 

You start to nod slowly and he mirrors you until he’s convinced of your belief in the statement. 

He rubs calm circles into your thighs as you both sit with the conversation, the light sounds of each others breaths the only sound heard. This silence isn’t the same as it was before though, it’s safer, more comfortable. It’s familiar, if not weighted.  

“I love you,” you tell him quietly.

His eyebrows furrow like his heart was just shattered. 

“I love you too, baby. So much.”

🦟 if you don't reblog things i'm actively sending bad vibes your way 🦟 and maybe also a plague

[trashytracktales]

Hiii, I’m not sure if your requests are open, but if they are, could you write something with Lando and Reader where they have been dating for just a few weeks, haven’t had sex yet. One day they’re working out together at Lando’s house in Monaco (the room with the mirror from the video I Ate and Trained Like Lando Norris for 24 hours). Reader is doing squats with her back towards the mirror and Lando can’t help but stare at her ass and he gets hard / flustered so he stops from doing his exercise and reader asks him what’s wrong and before he answers she realises he’s horny so she teases him - this time on purpose- and then they fuck in that room on the floor

In the heat of it | LN⁴

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💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you for trusting me enough to bring this to life, it was... something 🥵

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none of my works are available for reposting on other platforms.

© trashy track tales, 2024

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𐙚 summary ──── They've been dating for a few weeks now, but the time was never right for them to get intimate. During a playful workout together, Lando gets caught staring, sparking a moment that leaves them both realizing just how deep their connection actually goes.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, fluff & smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, swearing, established relationship, suggestive/flirty behavior. MDNI!

𐙚 word count ──── 3.6k

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 12, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Enjoy watching Lando learn that some cardio sessions have unexpected side effects 🤍🎀

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IT DOESN’T TAKE long before Lando starts to regret his decision. It would have been much easier to invite his girlfriend to have lunch together. That would have saved him from a constant dry mouth and irregular heartbeat every time he feels her eyes accidentally landing on him.

The smooth floor and sophisticated equipment in his personal gym are softly bathed in the morning sun that seeps through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Monaco's streets are still peaceful at this hour, considering it's the middle of the week, and the port is sparkling in the sunlight.

The room usually has a subtle scent of cedar and rubber, fresh and energized, but now it carries a sweet honey scent, borrowed from her presence.

They are already halfway through their warm-up. She’s pulling a resistance band around her thighs, stretching before they dive into the heavier part of their routine, her focus completely on the exercises he’s walked her through. But, of course, a huge part of her focuses on how Lando touches her, purposely, to guide her when her posture doesn't match the exercise.

Even in simple gym shorts and a T-shirt, Lando somehow manages to look so effortlessly attractive — curly hair a little messy, face flushed just enough from their recent sets, and his labored breathing after putting in the effort. He’s all energy, fluid in his movements, though he's clearly trying to keep his pace casual.

“Lookin’ strong,” he teases, flashing a grin as she adjusts her stance.

The girl shrugs, “I’m just that good at following instructions. Although, I think having one of the best trainers in the area helps, too.”

Lando lets a chuckle out, “I won't go easy on you just because you kiss-ass. But it’s cute to see you trying.”

Even though they have only been dating for a few weeks, there is an undeniable spark between them two, especially in a setting where every glance and skin-to-skin contact feels amplified by the intensity of their exercises. Her sports outfit leaves no room for interpretations, hugging her curves and defining her lines, and Lando's imagination is stimulated every time he turns his gaze towards her.

He’s now down on the floor, holding a plank, his core engaged and muscles taut as he fights to hold his body up and spine straight. She’s supposed to be timing him, but the second he shoots her a cheeky grin, she decides she can’t resist a bit of fun; in her defense, he started it. With a simple touch, the seconds freeze on the screen of his phone, then she places it on one of the boxes stored in the corner of the room.

“Hi there,” says the girl in a soft tone once she sits down in front of him just inches apart, propping herself up on her elbows so her face is level with his.

Lando raises his eyebrows, trying not to laugh as his shoulders shake slightly from the effort of holding his body weight. “Don’t,” he warns her, breath coming in controlled puffs.

“I’m not doing anything,” she smiles innocently, kicking her feet in the air while inching a little closer until her nose almost brushes his.

He laughs at her bad acting, his arms starting to shake a bit more. “Outrageous is what you are.”

She pouts just as Lando dips his head down, managing to steal a playful kiss. Their lips meet briefly, soft and warm, before he pulls back up to maintain his form. It makes her sigh in frustration, the ghost of a kiss not nearly enough for her. If anything, it only leaves her wanting more.

Luckily, he doesn’t pull back when she cups his cheek in her palm, pressing her mouth on his once more, his giggles mixing with hers as he tries to keep his balance. Savoring the feel of his lips and the way Lando grunts softly into the kiss, she can feel that this one is more deeper and slower — much real — making her shiver. It seems as though everything else disappears, the feel of each other reminding them both why they decided to give the relationship a shot in the first place.

“And you are so fun to corrupt,” she admits, finally getting up to give Lando time to recover.

After a few sets, she finally moves on to squats, and Lando follows her positioning herself in front of the mirror. It wasn't even supposed to be there, but he sometimes uses the gym as a storage room for random packages. This one, specifically, came in the mail a few weeks ago and he didn't have time to hang it in the hallway, where he initially planned. So, he simply let it rest against the wall in his gym room, and it's been there ever since. Forgotten.

Giving the circumstances, he is seriously thinking of leaving it there for good.

Conveniently, Lando decides that now is the perfect time to start his Russian twists, so he bends over to collect a dumbbell off the floor, then sits down on the yoga mat. Right in front of her.

Unaware of the effect she's having on him, he watches her go through each squat with his eyes trailing down on the reflection of her ass in the mirror, an intense warmth spreading over him as he tries to focus on his own exercise. It is quite innocent — he's just respectfully looking — until it isn't. Until he feels it in his boxers. Until he almost drops the dumbbell, which catches her attention.

Lando tries to ignore it, though, to nonchallantly brush it off, telling himself that it's natural and that he's just admiring her physical appearance. Anyone in his shoes would do it. However, his thoughts start to wander, images flashing uninvited as his heart rate quickens for reasons far beyond the exercise.

“Are you okay down there, hotshot? What are you fighting?” she asks curiously, raising her head just enough to catch the dazed look on Lando’s face.

Her voice pulls him back, his breath catching for a moment, “Yeah, never better.”

It's his husky voice that gives it away. Right after, she notices a lingering gaze, and the soft pink creeping across his features as his eyes are fixed ahead. She stops, fixing her posture and straightening her back as she turns to catch his gaze in the mirror. She realizes exactly what's going on in a matter of seconds, a little grin forming in the corner of her mouth.

“Am I too dictracting, Lando?” she purrs, her question — and the fact that he knows she caught him in act — not helping at all.

“No,” he lies, “But I think you’re killing it with those squats.”

“And if I turn around to finish my set, what then?” she whispers, a challenge glinting in her eyes as she brushes the tip of her tongue against her lower lip.

His breath is shallow the moment he decides to abandon his exercise. “Then you would be killing me,” he admits with no restraints. “So, by any means, proceed. Please.”

She glances over to see Lando lying flat on his back, one arm draped dramatically over his eyes, as if he's in serious pain. His other hand is splayed over his stomach, fingers tapping a nervous rhythm. It’s still funny to see him like that, but then she notices the way his chest rises and falls a bit too fast, and her eyes drift lower, catching a glimpse of the growing bulge in his shorts, an unmistakable proof of what she’s actually doing to him.

Suddenly, all the amusement disappears from her face, being replaced by a warmth that wraps around her neck, and rising to her cheeks. Her heart is slowly starting to race, small impulses between her thighs forcing her to close them together.

Swallowing hard, she crosses the small space to kneel beside him, gently pulling his arm away from his eyes. His lashes flicker open, meeting her gaze with a mix of embarrassment and desire. And so much lust.

“How can I help you?” asks Lando, his voice rougher than usual, trying to keep things light, though the hint of vulnerability shows in his eyes, and it's not that hard to read.

She chuckles nervously, “The question is how can I help you?”

In response, Lando uses the same hand to wrap his fingers around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. She feels his hand squeezing a little, the other one moving to her waist, hesitating before pulling her completely on top of him, without breaking the kiss. His tongue slips firmly into her mouth, just as it has done so many times before, but now it feels somehow different. Somehow, they both know that the kiss is meant to lead to something much more intense, because there's nothing stopping them anymore.

In the intimacy of his apartment, without interruption, Lando lowers his hands to her waist, rubbing her against him. Slowly. Repeatedly. The pressure forces them to moan in unison — a brief taste of the pleasure they are about to share. His hands then drop lower, roaming over her thighs, then back down to her ass, cupping it in his large palms.

He breaks away just enough to murmur, his voice low and almost reverent, “That enough of an answer?”

“Positive,” she replies, feeling his breath hitch as she shifts on top of him, straddling his hips, her hands splaying over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingertips.

Her lips find his again, sweet and intoxicating, each kiss sending sparks to her core. The new position makes her feel him much more firmly between her legs, taking Lando by surprise when her hand lowers to cover his length, massaging him through the thin material of his shorts.

“Fucking hell,” his lips stutter against hers, while rocking his hips into her touch.

“Yeah…” she agrees, breathing hotly above him, “Did I do this to you?”

Before Lando gets a chance to even think of an answer, she slips her hand under the elastic band of his boxers, taking him in her hand, feeling him in his entirety — deliciously soft skin, warm and ready, and so painfully hard.

It makes her ache for him.

She pumps his cock in her hand a few times, enough for her to feel how he shifts under her. It takes her a lot of self-control to stop herself from taking him in her mouth the second she hears his sweet little panting, her thumb rubbing softly over his swollen tip.

The workout itself had left Lando’s muscles burning, but her touch it’s something else entirely, igniting a heat in him that burns deeper than anything he’s felt before. Five more minutes enjoying the same high and he can give up cardio completely. Guaranteed.

Slowly coming back to his senses, Lando realizes that he has free will, so he slips his hands under her sports bra, palming her hungrily until he feels her nipples hardening under his touch. He breaths heavily as he rolls them between his fingers, managing to make her respond with a soft meowl, her grip on his cock losening.

That's his cue to take the lead, pulling her bra over her head in a quick move, and flipping their bodies over so that now he's hovering above her, eyes filled with need while looking down at her.

“Hi there,” Lando copies her tone from earlier, feeling a little fraction of the power she had over him.

She wants to talk back so badly — one of her sarcastic little comments that she knows he loves — but all she can do is let out a pathetic whimper between her lips when his mouth finds home on her bare breast. At that, Lando feels a shiver running down his spine, looking up at how she closes her eyes in pleasure, arching her back more against his mouth.

“Driving me insane with your pretty ass, baby,” he says, breathing heavily, managing to cover her body in a thin layer of goosebumps, “And your pretty fucking nipples.”

“Lando…” she lets another cry slip out, opening her eyes to look at him.

The image that greets her makes her breath catch in her throat. The way he sucks on her nipple while playing with the other one, and the way he looks up at her through his eyelashes — it’s all too much. She ends up wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him down with her. Then she runs her hands down his back, tugging at the edge of his shirt, tossing the useless material carelessly to the floor before pulling him closer for another kiss.

Mouth to mouth, chest to chest, skin on skin — who says heaven isn't real?

But if that's heaven, then what can she name the feeling she gets the moment his hand slips into her gym shorts and his fingers brush against her soaked entrance? Because it feels way too fucking good — much better than she expected, and certainly much better than her own hand whenever she pictured his face while fingering herself.

Lando starts slowly at first, spreading her wetness around her pussy, then fucking his fingers in and out, while cautiously watching her facial expressions changing. It’s not taking him long before finding that sweet, sweet spot that makes her roll her hips into his hand, desperation painted all over her face.

“Lan… yes,” she starts panting, “That’s—yes, right there.”

He hums proudly, sealing his mouth to hers, while parting her thighs with his knee so he can spread her more in front of him. Feeling herself open to his touch, so easy and wet, he no longer feels self-conscious about the way she's so quickly tunring him boneless under her gaze. He realizes that the feeling is mutual, and it makes him want her even more.

If that's even possible.

The sound of his fingers repeatedly fucking into her is all that anchors her in the present moment, but the second Lando feels her squeezing around them, he stops so he can silently ask for her permission to take the last piece of her clothing off.

She nods in a rush, swallowing the lump in her throat in anticipation.

Every inch of her is now bathed in the soft, golden light streaming through the window. Warm shadows are cast along her curves, the light outlining each delicate contour of her body as though the sun itself is painting her in real time. The image is so powerful yet vulnerable as she stands there, her figure glimmering with an almost unearthly serene confidence. Lando is utterly captivated by how ethereal she looks, like a goddess come to life, the kind he never imagined he would be close enough to even touch, let alone enjoy. He feels like he’s witnessing something sacred, something so incredibly rare, and the awe he feels is mixed with gratitude that she’s here with him, letting him see her in a such perfect lighting.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Lando finally manages to say, hoping that he hasn't started drooling all over her in the meantime. “All of you.”

“Your turn,” she says in a muffled voice, slightly bashful at the way he stares at her like he wants to devour her. Which is not far from the truth.

He agrees that it's a fair request, realizing that the only thing separating them now are his own shorts. Without protesting — because that would be so fucking dumb considering how hard he is — Lando gets rid of them with the speed of a perfect qualifying lap.

Matching the same pace, Lando’s hands slide around her waist, his fingers pressing gently into her hips as he guides them both to the side so they can face the window — or that's what she thought. Confused at first, she's frowning at him, then follows his gaze, lost in the direction of their reflection, understanding immediately what he really wants — a show. A show just for them, in which they can lose themselves together, without limits.

She sighs at the sight of their hot, naked bodies, the way he aligns himself with her, and how he’s finally pushing inside, enough to hear her whimper. She watches as he stands above her, his hands gliding slowly over her sides, up her arms, grounding her in his touch. The image of them together, framed in the soft glow of the room, feels surreal — so intimate and vulnerable in a way that’s completely new for both of them.

Lando pauses, pulling out at her little whimper, then pressing back in, but just the tip.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, “You're so fucking wet it keeps slipping out,” adds Lando in a low tone, so turned on that it makes her clench around his head.

To her frustration, the speed at which Lando pushes back inside might as well be negative, causing her to explode with how needy she becomes in the meantime. But just as she’s about to encourage him to sink further, he buries himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust.

“Lan…” she says as she wraps her arms around his shoulders, “You… feel so good,” she takes a moment to breath into his skin, then she turns her head to catch their reflection once again.

Lando is already looking, and when they make eye contact through the mirror, he starts fucking her slowly and gently, as if he could break her.

“See how silly you look for thinking we won't match?” he sounds so amazed by how easily she opens up for him, over and over again, with each steady thrust of his hips, “See that? Taking all of me so well, baby.”

“Lando,” she cries out at the way his cock throbs against her walls, because she knows it's way too slow, even for him.

It's simply agonizing.

“So perfect around me,” he states, “Can't believe I lasted that long. Should've fucked you from the first night.”

At this point, he's just rambling, but the thought makes her stomach tie in a knot.

“You would've let me, wouldn't you?”

“Yes,” she speaks, already drunk on the way he feels inside her, “I would have let you fuck me in the plane bathroom, on the way to Imola. And back in your driver's room, when Oscar caught us kissing. And last week, outside the club… Fuck. I wanted you to fuck me there so bad.”

His mind goes blank with all the lost opportunities, causing him to gradually increase his pace, the sound of them connecting so obscene.

“Wh—” he almost chokes on words, “Why didn't you say anything?”

“You—stressed about work. I… I didn't want to be—distraction,” she tightens her legs around him, keeping him inside her, the words losing their meaning as Lando shifts his position, wrapping his arm around her thigh to open her up even more for him. "Like that, mhm, yes!"

“You're so tight, fuck,” he swallows hard as he squeezes roughly at her thighs. “I'm so close.”

She knows that will leave marks on her skin, but nothing beats the pleasure of having Lando fucking himself so deep inside her, that her vision starts clouding.

All common sense went out the window the moment she stepped through his door, anyway.

She can feel his breath warm against her neck, hear the soft hitch in his breathing as he leans in, his lips brushing her shoulder, never breaking eye contact with her in the mirror. Lando's hands are making their way to cup her ass, pulling out all the way, before fucking back in, all over again, until he finds the perfect rhythm between their bodies. He moans loudly, pressing his upper body on her, their scents blending together and sweat transferring from skin to skin. They move so in sync, completely attuned to each other, and the sight of their shared pleasure, reflected back at them, turns everything into fireworks, her mind completely empty. Except for how well she's being fucked.

“Lan—Lando,” she's so close to sobbing that she shuts her mouth at the sound of her voice, thinking it's too pathetic to whine as she cums around him, her release dripping all over between their bodies.

The wet sound her pussy makes gives Lando way to fuck in deeper, taken by surprise that she finished without any warnings. He grips her ass one more time before he stills inside her, his cock throbbing, and pulls out right before he starts leaking, resting his cock against her thigh, his entire length coated in her release. His cum drips from his tip to her inner thigh, making him groan while he fixes his gaze on the mirror at the image of them.

She buries her fingers in his curls after he finally collapses on top of her, their heavy breaths echoing throughout the room. With his head on her chest, he can feel her heart racing, gradually slowing down, and lets out a soft laugh as she shifts a little under him.

“We're so fucking matching, baby. Let's gooo!” exclaims Lando, exhaust evident in his voice.

She feels her cheeks warm, “I think you’re a little biased right now,” she jokes.

Lando shifts slightly so he can see her face, brushing a thumb tenderly along her side. He smiles softly, the usual spark in his eyes softened by something deeper, so gentle.

“I'm just happy.”

Her heart flutters, and she feels him sink even closer to her, threading his fingers through hers.

“And very sweaty,” she adds with a chuckle.

“I'm pretty sure that's you,” he teases, letting the moment pass slowly, then calling out her name in a serious voice.

“Mhm?” she hums while turning to look in the mirror, watching him getting comfortable on top of her.

“Where do we go from here?” asks Lando.

“Your bedroom, I hope. The floor is killing my back.”

thank you for reading!

reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

[eupheme]

Not to be the little gremlin obsessed with Chappell Roan BUT… reader thinking Logan is too cool to want a proper relationship with them, so when things get physical they insist things are just “casual” in order to protect themselves from getting hurt. But secretly you’re in love with each other, so honestly, neither of you want things to be casual at all… (mutual pining my beloved) please & thank you!! Love you!

ahh hi hi avo I LOVE this song, and this request, and you - I could so see this being a situation that Logan and reader find themselves in. I had so much fun writing this, I hope you like it! (I added a couple winks to the lyrics as well.) 💖 thank you so much for sending this to me!!!

casual | variant!logan howlett x f!reader

1.2k | posessive!logan, fwb(???), use of alcohol, mutual pining, references to oral sex and PiV.

It doesn’t matter that your heart flips when you look at him. It’s Logan. It’s just casual.

It certainly feels like a dream, watching your worlds collide.

The heft of Logan’s palm fitting into your friends as he shakes their hand - the five of you squeezed into your usual booth in the corner of the bar.

You’d say the past couple weeks had seemed that way, as well. A late-night dose of bravery spiraling into something so raw and intense and real, that you feel like you could choke on it.

Even now, there’s heat in your cheeks as your eyes flick his way. Something stirring in your chest at the way his other arm slings across the back of the booth almost possessively.

But like all dreams, there comes a moment where you have to wake up.

Because you know it’s not.

Because you know your feelings aren’t requited. How could they be, when it’s Logan you’re talking about?

A legend.

A lone wolf.

Someone important, someone whose name carries a weight. Who saved the world, from what Wade tells you.

And you’re - you.

So even if you know what he looks like beneath that flannel, know what his mouth feels like when it presses against yours - what he sounds like, when he comes - you know that this is nothing.

It’s casual. A distraction, for both of you.

And if that’s how it has to be, then you’ll do your best to show him you’re cool with it.

You just hadn’t expected this moment to come so soon. It had been a genuine offer, your “you wanna come with?” when the hour rolled around for your weekly trivia night.

Not thinking his head would cock to the side. The look he’d give you - that arched brow, as his fingers splayed out across your bare hip. Still crowded together on your couch, sweat-dewed.

The “sure, sweetheart” that slipped out.

And now you’re introducing him as your friend - that quick history you’ve perfected - rattling off the “you know, Wade from work’s roommate” even though Wade didn’t work at the dealership anymore.

He had made enough of an impression that none of your friends had forgotten.

And you ignore the bitter jolt in your stomach, when all Logan does is hum.

You think you must have assumed right.

He doesn’t correct you.

Logan quickly solidifies himself as an asset to the team. He gets a lot of the history questions that you’ve always struggled with. A shy quirk of his lips when your friends cheer, and you get swept along with it.

His hand ending up on your thigh along the way. Squeezing, when you chime in. Almost as if forgetting - it’s easy to, when you’re having fun like this.

A low rasp in your ear, when the host takes a break.

“Lemme get you another.”

You can only nod, as he eases out - taking your glass with him.

It only takes a second, before MJ’s hand slaps down on yours.

“That’s Logan?” She hisses - leaning forward, “The one who-”

“Yes.” You cut her off, ignoring the sideways glance her boyfriend gives you.

You never should have told her about that.

Had a hard enough time climbing into your car without thinking about it, yourself - the way he had man-handled you in the passenger seat. Thighs thrown over broad shoulders.

Fingers twined in his hair, as he made you moan in the dark parking garage. Too eager to make it up to your apartment.

She frowns, the words petering out, “But I thought-”

Your teeth worry at your lower lip.

“Yeah. Me too.” You sigh.

MJ knows how much you like him.

Really like him - butterflies, and everything. How it’s been years since you felt this way - slipping from you during that rushed phone call at 6 am the morning after your first night together.

Her eyebrows raise, and it’s a look you know well.

“It’s, you know.” Your hand waves, “It’s casual. It’s-”

It’s easier, this way.

Maybe if you keep repeating it, it won’t hurt as much when he moves on.

The look she shoots you is one of pity, just as a drink is set down in front of you.

Your teeth clicking against each other as the words are swallowed. Forcing a smile as Logan slips back in the booth next to you.

The next round starts a moment after, and it’s a welcome reprieve.

You miss the way his eyes narrow, as yours fix firmly on scorecard in front of you.

But you don’t miss the way his hands stay folded on top of the table, for the rest of the night.

You suppose he must have remembered where he was.

“You wanna come up?”

He lingers outside your apartment door, hands jammed into his pockets. That look from the bar is back - all dark, narrowed eyes.

A low sound in his throat, close to a scoff.

“That what you want, sweetheart?”

Your eyebrows raise, “Yeah. I do, I mean-, that’s what we usually do, right?”

He’s spent just about every night at your apartment. His things still scattered across your room. A leather jacket slung across the chair that’s tucked against your vanity.

Logan’s lips twist at the edges, eyes dropping.

“Suppose we do.” Those hands slip from his pocket, crossing over his chest, “Back when I thought we knew what we were doing. But now…”

His head shakes. A tick in his jaw.

Your stomach drops.

“What do you mean?”

Logan huffs, “The bar, baby. Is that how you really feel?”

A step closer, until he’s caging you in. Voice dropping, rough and low - near gritted out.

“Does this,” His fingers flick between your chest and his, “feel casual to you?”

Your heartbeat gallops behind your ribs.

“I thought-,” You manage, “Thought that’s what you wanted.”

He’s too close, now. The dip of his head, those eyes burning in their shades of brown and gold.

“Now, why would you think that?”

You swallow, “Because you’re you, and I’m-”

“You’re?” He prompts, but you go silent.

A sigh, when your head dips.

Unable to say it out loud.

“Driving me crazy all night, you know that?” He rasps, “Giving me those looks. Calling me your friend, when we both know your mouth was around my cock this morning.”

A low rumble in his throat, “When I still taste like you.”

Your breath hitches, as his hand thumbs at your jaw, tilting it up.

“Lemme ask you again.” His mouth is close enough now to ghost against yours, “Is that how you really feel?”

Your head shakes.

“Wanna be yours.”

It’s breathed out, just as he kisses you.

His body pressing flush, as your hands twine around his neck. A palm around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as he deepens it.

Desire thrumming to life inside you, washing out the dregs of insecurity that you’ve been carrying this whole time. Melting them away completely with the hungry sweep of his tongue, the way he swallows your soft moan.

There’s a flash of white when he finally leans back, with the curve of his lips.

“Good.”

His hand closes around the knob. A rough twist, as his another arm wraps around your waist.

Walking you backwards, into the dark.

“The let me show you exactly how I feel.”

thank you so much, again!! 💖

[monstersholygrail]

New City, New Life

5k celebration 'Choose your own adventure' story

Dragon x fem!reader— hate fucking, rough sex, marking, fire breath play, restraints (tail)

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3

You stomp out of Minotaur Boss’ office in a blind rage. Your vision blurring with either anger or arousal, you’re not exactly sure. The sound of the door slamming open doesn’t attract any attention, your coworkers far too busy fucking to watch how hot you look when mad. But you can’t help but watch them, eyes drawn to the carefree way they drown in their pleasure. Caring more for satisfying themselves than continuing to work their job.

It was simply astonishing. They all hold a freedom you’ve never known. Not until yesterday when you got here, that is. The longer you stare the hotter your body grows, your pussy gushing with arousal. You feel your world spin, trying to accommodate to your new reality as you would have to accommodate a massive cock. Your thoughts quickly stray away from your mission, the arousal overtaking the anger brewing within you.

For a moment you seriously consider joining one of them. If this is your new life, who’s to say you shouldn’t take advantage of it? You bite your lip, slowing your pace as you walk past a pair of Cat Hybrids who look like they’re in heat.

No—

You can’t risk getting too distracted right now. You had to go confront your Dragon Headhunter and maybe, just maybe, you can blow some of this steam off on him. In whatever form that may take. With a deep inhale you try and clear some of the lust clouding your mind. You turn back toward the conference room, intent on going in, when you immediately bump into a man devouring someone like it’s his last meal.

A small yelp leaves you as you go flying back, not wanting to interrupt, but you quickly lose your footing and once again go tumbling to the ground. You briefly wonder if that sexy Secretary Bunny will catch you again. No! Focus! But then a pair of hands are on you and your heart, and your pussy, flutters.

The stranger’s hands quickly switch you around, causing you to plop firmly in his lap as you straddle him. A moan freely slips past your lips as you already feel his fully hard cock beneath you. As your head snaps up to look at your new rescuer your jaw drops, your eyes sweeping over his infuriatingly and impossibly perfect features.

But unlike everyone else you’ve met in this city… he appears perfectly human. That is until his eyes flicker, his pupils forming a small flame to reflect his burning desire. He wasn’t a human, he was a robot. No wonder he’s the most perfect specimen you’ve ever seen. You glance down, eyes trailing his form when you notice his IT badge. How ironic.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the main event falling right into my lap,” he purrs, voice smooth as silk as he leans in, brushing his nose along your jaw.

A small whine leaves you, his skin impossibly smooth against yours. Your eyes flutter and you hate how easily you melt against him. An IT Robot shouldn’t be so damn comfortable. You find yourself baring your neck to him, seeking more of his touch. His dark chuckle vibrates against your skin and you shiver, unintentionally grinding against him. Or was it on purpose? Fuck, you couldn’t even tell anymore.

“Technically you got me into your lap,” you sigh with bliss, your brain only growing fuzzier the longer you stay in his embrace.

It was like he knew exactly where and how to touch you. You were sure it was just from some strange programming he’s downloaded but who were you to question it? The IT Robot’s touch slips beneath your shirt and his large hands caress your curves reverently.

“And what else can I get you to do with me?” IT Robot’s voice rasps and curls into your ear as if putting you under a spell. A spell called his cock. He rolls his hips as he speaks, pressing his hard length roughly against your clothed clit.

“Nngh… N-nothing! I have to go, but damn I wish I didn’t,” you say through gritted teeth.

You force yourself out of his lap, your body vibrating and your cunt pulsing with need. You push the office chair he was sitting in away from you and he laughs. The chair stops as it bumps into another person but his eyes don’t stray from you.

“You’re always welcome, doll.”

It takes all the strength left in your tired and yet still somehow horny body to turn away from the sexy IT Robot but you do. You keep your eyes firmly trained on Conference room D, determined to see this through. Your Dragon Headhunter is the only one right now who deserves the impact of all your pent up emotions.

As you near the door, you stop short, surprised when it opens. For a second you wait with bated breath, wondering if maybe the Dragon Headhunter is looking for you too. You don’t even question the way your pussy floods with arousal. But your stomach drops as a Fae walks out of the conference room and sneaks off, not even seeing you staring after them.

Your fury returns tenfold to the point where you can’t even think straight. You rush for the door, barging in and smashing it closed behind you. The Dragon Headhunter jumps from the noise, lazily glancing over his shoulder at you. Your eyes automatically widen, a gasp leaving you as you finally see him in person. You’d video called dozens of times yet it all paled in comparison to seeing him face-to-face.

He was broad and painstakingly attractive. His scales glimmer in the sunlight that streaks in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. His suit fits tight against his chest, leaving nothing to the imagination of what lies beneath. The fabric clinging to his thick ass and strong thighs. A slow smirk forms on his lips. The sight has you shuddering where you stand and it only serves to make you more angry.

“Well, if it isn’t my newest treasure…”

Your eyes flash, focus returning back to his face. Just in time too to see the smug look painted across his face. You’re in front of him in an instant only to push him back. The creature barely even moves. He sways, although you know he only did it for your benefit.

“Where have you been? You have no idea what’s happened today?” you ask lowly, hands shaking from your anger. Sure, the dicks been great, but this wasn’t how you expected your new life to start.

It’s Dragon Headhunter’s turn to look you up and down, noting your disheveled appearance and lustful expression. It has his smirk growing somehow wider across his face. He crosses his arms, admiring what he’s done to you, what this city has turned you into.

“I believe I have an idea.”

The air grows thick between you and the Dragon Headhunter. You can barely breathe, only managing short shaky breaths as you stare each other down. Your skin burns under his gaze but you refuse to squirm and let him win.

“Of course you do. ‘Cause you fucking tricked me into coming here. Why?” You ask firmly, finally demanding answers from him. You won’t be leaving here without them. And you’ll do anything to get them.

You slowly walk up to him, trying your best to intimidate a beast such as him. But all you do is make yourself feel smaller as he towers over you. The height different has your pussy clenching around nothing. His nostrils immediately flare and you know he can smell how turned on you are. You cry out and push him back again with all your strength.

“Why?!” You demand with a ragged shout.

Without a single word, Dragon Headhunter swoops down and claims your lips in a searing kiss to shut you up. A low moan rumbles through your throat and the Dragon responds with one of his own. One that has you turning to mush in his arms. Your mouths clash together as they fight for dominance. The Dragon’s claws sink into the flesh of your wide hips and he whirls you around, pressing your ass into the conference room table.

Dragon Headhunter ravages you, his tongue swirling through your mouth as if trying to taste every last bit of you. He pushes against you harder and harder until he growls and lifts your plush frame up like it’s nothing and drops you easily on top of the table. You grunt and throw his arms off of you, forcing him to kiss at your pace. His claws sink into the wood and screech loudly as he drags them down, trying to resist grabbing at you again. But as you suck his tongue into your mouth he can’t take it any longer.

He pushes you all the way down on the table with as much as a small shove. You cry out as you go flying back, glaring at him. Dragon Headhunter starts furiously trying to shred off your clothes. You grunt and wrestle against him to get your clothes off without ruining them. He doesn’t bother, shredding his own clothes with a few swipes of his claws. You two glare at each other even as lust fills your gazes. He jerks your legs open to reveal your glistening folds and smoke leaves his snout with his huffs.

“This is where I fucked that pathetic little fae and now it’s where I’m gonna give you their sloppy seconds,” he snarls in your face and you grit your teeth. Your stomach churns with a jealous rage.

Before you can snap back at him, Dragon Headhunter snaps his hips forward, impaling you on his massive cock with a solid stroke. Fire shoots from your core and burns through your entire body. A fierce scream echoes off the walls and your pussy spasms around his girth as your body tries to adjust to being split open on his cock.

But the Dragon barely lets you take a breath before he’s rearing back and snapping his hips back against yours. You groan lowly, actually thankful for all your previous lays today as they helped prepare you for this. Your pussy opens up for him, allowing him to drive in even deeper inside you with each movement. Letting your fury fuel you, jerk your hips, meeting his thrusts. The Dragon’s eyes roll back in his head.

“F-fuuuuck— augh— knew this fuckhole was gonna be good without even seeing it. Looked like a damn slut who’d take anything given to them,” he says darkly, his tongue slipping as he gets more and more lost in the pleasure of your cunt.

Your eyes narrow at him, no matter how good he’s making you feel. Each pump of his hips brushes along every nerve in your core and it sends you flying, your body shaking with unimaginable pleasure. Your sopping cunt sucks him back in with every thrust, needing him inside you despite everything.

Wanting to drive him to the brink of insanity, your hands snap out and sink in between his sensitive scales. The Dragon throws back his head and lets out a ferocious roar. Then he falls forward, elbows caging you in and rutting up into your perfect pussy.

“Tell me why you sold me on this job. Did you think I was right for it?” you ask lowly, your breaths mingling with your close vicinity. Needing to ask and know the truth.

Dragon Headhunter chuckles and your pussy flutters around him, making him groan. He leans in and bites down on your neck, marking you with the memory of this moment. Then he leans back enough to look in your eye to deliver the blow.

“Nah, I just wanted this sweet cunt,” he says breathlessly, his words so simple yet infuriating. You dig your nails into the flesh beneath his scales the Dragon groans in pain, his hips surging forward into your tight heat.

“Fuck you.”

Dragon Headhunters eyes burn brightly, finally matching the anger in your own gaze. He smirks wickedly, flashing his fangs at you in a clear threat.

“Gladly.”

His tail whips out, quickly wrapping around your wrists and pinning you to the table. With a growl that sends chills up your spine, the Dragon picks up his pace, fucking up into you with a stamina your poor human body can barely handle as it jerks up with every thrust. A loud mewl rips from your throat as his cock bullies into your cervix with each stroke. His eyes gleam devilishly as he watches how much of a mess he’s turning you into.

But it’s not enough. His free hand flies to your puffy little clit and rubs your bundle of nerves in time with his thrusts. Your jaw drops, all the sensations building up inside you have you nearly losing your mind.

You scream in relief a when you finally fall off the edge. Your body shaking, hips rising off the table with the force of your orgasm. For a moment you see white and you hear the Dragon roar once more as he follows right after you. And when you open your eyes you gasp to see fire shooting out from his throat, teasing you. The heat it emits just turns you on even more, prolonging an already intense climax.

It’s only once you finally come down from the high of a lifetime do you seem to gain common sense again. You huff, your anger still palpable but more half-hearted as you tear yourself away from him. You slide off the table, heading toward your discarded clothes, needing to get out of here.

“I’m leaving,” you announce, quickly sliding your clothes back on. Ignoring the way your combined release drips out of you and pools in your panties.

“You’re under contract, sweets,” Dragon Headhunter replies, his tone filled with amused arrogance.

You whip around to face him yet unable to reply. He’s right. You’re stuck here. But is it really that bad that you are?

Seeing your hesitance to reply, thoughts clearly spinning through your mind, Dragon Headhunter smirks and saunters up to you in all his naked glory. “Welcome to Free Use City. Embrace it.”

Leaving the conference room you think over what he said. This was your chance at a fresh start and you wanted to make the most of it. In a Free Use City you guess that meant fucking strangers. Truly embracing the city for what it was and what it offered. You could do that! In your office building alone there were hundreds of people to choose from. You look around the office, wondering if IT Robot’s offer was still on the table. He’s bound to know everything about pleasuring a human. Or perhaps you could find Bunny Secretary and see if you could throw yourself at him again. And well… there was always that Demon Guard you passed on the way in. You’re sure he could show a sinful time.

[hannieehaee]

Svt telling their s/o they’re tired of them? Angst to fluff pls

telling their s/o they're tired of them

content: established relationship, mentions of arguments, angst to fluff, fighting, making up, etc.

wc: 1706

a/n: i wrote this incredibly dramatic for no reason lol i hope u enjoy though!!

masterlist

seungcheol -

it'd be done in the heat of the moment. he wouldn't mean it, but he'd say it specifically with the intention of hurting you, which he'd realize in the moment but would regret the moment you walked away with a huff. he'd have to sit on it for a while ruminating on what happened. it'd take him a while to actually go to you to apologize due to his stubbornness, but he'd eventually realize how badly he fucked up when his messages began to go unanswered.

after a while, he'd literally just have to push his pride aside completely in order to apologize. he'd realize the error of his ways and be honest in the fact that he didn't mean it and was just being petty and vindictive. would understand if you needed some time apart or if he'd damaged your trust. he'd realize the error of his stubbornness after this incident.

jeonghan -

it'd be said in a moment where too many things are bothering him, just constantly jamming into his mind and adding more and more problems into his life and driving him insane. you'd interrupt him in one of these instances, causing him to snap at you and immediately regret it when your face fell, completely unexpecting of your sweet hannie to speak like that to you.

he'd drop whatever he was doing the moment he realized what he'd said and cry and coo at you as he apologized, insulting himself over and over about what a bad boyfriend he was being and how horrible he was for speaking to you like that. would encourage you to be mean to him in return, getting you to laugh at his insistence.

joshua -

it was said in a petty, bitter way. he wanted to chase you away for a bit, but not too terribly. this was enough to just get your lip to quiver a little, but he'd regret it immediately. whatever anger or frustration that was in him would leave him the moment the words left his mouth. he only said it so he could be left alone for a moment, but he didn't think he'd genuinely hurt your feelings.

you wouldn't really be able to react before he began apologizing, reassuring you that he was an idiot and could never be tired of you. he'd pout and whine and maybe make it into a lighthearted thing to avoid things escalating. would promise to make it up to you.

jun -

he'd be stammering apologies the moment the biting words left him. you wouldn't even get to react before he went to try and fail to explain himself. he'd know that if it were the other way around, he'd be heartbroken by his s/o telling him they're tired of him. because, really, how could he say that to you? he's not tired of you. he could never be! he wants you all the time, even if you're fighting.

he'd say all these things to you in the form of a ramble, literally unable to stop until you interrupt him. he'd be so innocently apologetic and regretful that it'd be impossible to not kiss and make up.

soonyoung -

he's been said to be kind of scary when angry, so this would be said in the heat of the moment. maybe you'd had a terrible argument and that was just the last thing he'd said, stubbornly wanting to get the last word in. he'd be too stubborn at first to allow himself to admit that he'd been petty and that he'd genuinely hurt you for no reason.

when it finally dawned on him, he'd grovel endlessly, already crying when he went to approach you to apologize. it'd be hard and it'd be painful for him to apologize, but he still would feel the need to do so. he's a sensitive guy, so he understands what it's like to be hurt by someone's words. would promise to never fight again, and specially to never deliberately try to hurt you through his petty words.

wonwoo -

it is very hard for me to imagine him saying something like this, but if he ever did, it'd have some context behind it. not just a mere 'i'm tired of you' but instead something like 'i'm tired of you doing/saying x thing'. he'd still hurt your feelings, but nowhere in his mind would he have thought that that'd be the effect of his words.

he'd be the type to sit you down and want to talk about it further. he would apologize and open a conversation about what he meant by his words and how he'd never say anything to deliberately hurt you. he'd also be genuinely sad at the thought of his words doing any type of damage to you.

jihoon -

he'd just mutter it under his breath without realizing, much less noticing that you heard him. you'd been insisting he takes a break and trying to get him out of his studio for a bit when he'd said it. he'd be so immersed in his work that he literally would not notice that you left with a huff. it'd only be until hours later when he noticed he wasn't getting your usual text messages throughout the day that he'd realize something was off.

coming home, that's when he would have the epiphany. the air would be cold and your mood would clearly match the atmosphere. he'd go to you with his tail between his legs, having to grovel and make lots of promises about how he'd never disregard and offend you like that. he'd take this as a lesson to himself.

seokmin -

nope sorry i just cannot imagine him doing this ever lol

mingyu -

the only way i imagine this happening is it he's dealing with an imaginable amount of stuff on his plate and he's already had a few people snapping at him already so he accidentally dished it out on you when you caught him just at the worst moment.

his reaction to what he said would depend on your own reaction. if you were angry and stormed off, he'd curse at himself and let you cool off on your own before apologizing. if you cried or looked hurt, he'd gruel and even go as far as getting on his knees to apologize, telling you that what he said was not aimed at you but it just came out bc you were closest and that he'd never mean to disrespect you like that.

minghao -

he's usually pretty zen and in touch with his emotions so him snapping at you and telling you he's tired of you would just be all the more dramatic. i don't think he'd ever say it with the intention of hurting you but more so because of built up frustration. he'd immediately realize his mistake, though and know he'd need to apologize as soon as possible.

if you walked off, he'd let you leave to cool off and sit you down later to formally communicate and apologize, but if you reacted more sad than mad, he'd stare at you agape at his own snarky comment before shaking himself out of it and hugging you, ensuring you he's not tired of you and that he was completely out of line.

seungkwan -

he's a very emotional person, and maybe sometimes that gets the best of him. he always treats all his loved ones with the biggest of affections, but just like anyone else, sometimes things get too much and might make him snap at the wrong people. or at least that's what he told himself in order to make himself better at the dejected look on your face when he suddenly snapped at you. you'd interrupted him as he tried to manage some work stuff, but the fault was all his.

he'd grovel on his own for a while, scared to face you because he'd never expected himself to snap at you like that and didn't know how to move forward. he knew he'd have to apologize to you, but he felt like he didn't deserve to speak to you until you decided it was time. however, he'd have to man up eventually and go to you. he'd approach you with his tail between his legs, mumbling apologies. when you heard him out and accepted his apology (after lots of hugs and groveling), he'd be so thankful.

vernon -

he's usually such a laid back person, but sometimes things just got too much and he'd find himself more stressed than usual. it would just be unfortunate that you'd catch him at the perfectly wrong time, earning a frustrated 'don't bother me right now, i'm tired of you' that'd have your face falling in a way he'd never seen before. when you walked away without saying anything, ignoring him when he tried to stop you, he'd know he fucked up.

he knew you needed time on your own, but he'd still try to be around you as much as he could throughout the day. he wouldn't be able to focus on anything else, looking to you like a sick puppy until you snapped at him and told him to just say whatever he wanted to say. that's when the stammered apologies would come in. he'd admit complete fault, telling you it wasnt your fault that stress got the better of him. you'd have a very productive conversation about it and make up within the day.

chan -

it'd happen so suddenly and unexpectedly he'd even shock himself in having said it. he can have a bit of an attitude sometimes, but he'd never actually say something so hurtful to you. your fights never involved any insults or purposely hurtful words. this would be a rare moment, shocking the two of you.

when you immediately stormed out, hurt and angry, he'd understand. he'd be too scared to deal with it all day, so he'd let you cool down on your own, but really it'd be only out of fear of you getting even angrier at him. he'd have to grow some balls in order to actually come to you and apologize. it'd be full of grueling and regret, with chan terrified he might've disrespected you too far for forgiveness.

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Just A Prank

Franco Colapinto x Fem!reader

minor angst and a lot of fluff

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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F1 and 2 Masterlist

The day began like any other. You and Franco had both slept in, rare and cherished moments of rest squeezed between the constant hum of his career as a Formula 2 driver. Lately, every moment together felt extra special—his season was nearing its end, and with it, the uncertainty of what would come next loomed ever closer.

That morning, you both lounged on the sofa, Franco’s head resting comfortably in your lap as you absentmindedly ran your fingers through his messy dark hair. You could feel the quiet rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his body leaning into yours. He seemed unusually relaxed, but you could also sense an underlying tension—like he was holding something back.

“Do you want to go out for a walk later?” you asked, trying to pull him out of his pensive silence.

Franco looked up at you, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’d rather stay like this for a bit longer,” he murmured, leaning up to steal a kiss. “Besides, who knows when I’ll get the chance to do this again.”

“Franco, don’t be so dramatic,” you chuckled, but his words stirred something inside you. You both knew the competitive nature of racing, the constant push to perform, and the slim chances of moving up to Formula 1. He’d been hoping, of course, but you could feel the weight of the uncertainty. It had been pressing on both of you, silent and unspoken.

As the day wore on, you found yourself nestled in the little routines that made life with Franco feel so complete: cooking breakfast together, debating which show to watch, laughing over silly inside jokes only the two of you understood. The hours passed, and you found comfort in his presence, a sense of home you never thought you’d find so soon in life.

Then, in the early afternoon, Franco’s phone rang. The sharp sound cut through the quiet, and he tensed immediately.

“Hold on, amor,” he said softly, his brow furrowing as he glanced at the screen. “It’s my boss… I need to take this.”

You watched him slip into the next room, closing the door behind him as he answered. You felt your heart rate pick up, your mind running through a million scenarios. You knew he’d been anxiously awaiting some news about next season, but he hadn’t said much—always downplaying it, always acting like it was no big deal. Yet you could tell it mattered to him more than he let on.

Minutes ticked by, each one dragging longer than the last. You strained to hear snippets of his voice, but it was muffled behind the door. Your stomach churned with nerves, and you hugged a pillow to your chest, wondering what could possibly be taking so long.

Finally, he emerged, his face unreadable. You searched his expression, looking for any hint of what he’d heard, but he just sighed, walking toward you with a faint smile.

“So…” he said, plopping down beside you, trying to look nonchalant. “Looks like next season… they’re, uh, bringing someone else in to replace me.”

The words landed like a stone in your chest. “What?” you whispered, wide-eyed with disbelief. “Franco, no—there’s no way! You’ve been amazing this season! Who would they possibly bring in that’s better than you?”

He shrugged, looking away, his face somber. “Apparently they want a different direction or something.”

Anger bubbled up inside you, your face heating as you struggled to keep your composure. “I’m sorry, but that’s insane. You’ve worked so hard, Franco. You don’t deserve this! It’s not fair!”

Franco bit his lip, struggling to contain a grin. You were too furious to notice.

“I’ll call them,” you continued, clenching your fists. “I’ll go down to the paddock myself if I have to and demand answers. They don’t realize what they’re giving up.”

“Y/N,” Franco interrupted softly, his voice trembling slightly with laughter, “it’s a joke.”

You froze, trying to process his words. “A… a joke?” you repeated, blinking in confusion.

He laughed, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you into his embrace, his whole body shaking with laughter. “Yes, cariño, a joke! They didn’t replace me. They actually… called me up. I’m going to F1.”

For a second, you couldn’t speak. Relief and shock hit you in equal measure, a tidal wave of emotions threatening to spill over. You blinked, your mind racing to catch up. “Wait, Franco, are you serious?”

He nodded, his eyes shining with excitement, a look you’d never seen before. “I am. I didn’t want to get my hopes up until I knew for sure. But yes… I’m moving up to Formula 1.”

“Franco!” you gasped, grabbing his face in your hands as the reality of it set in. Pride, love, and pure joy swelled in your heart, and you leaned in, pressing a fierce, grateful kiss to his lips. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

He grinned, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. “So… do you still want to go to that fancy dinner? I think I could use a celebration.”

You didn’t need any more convincing. After changing into something special for the occasion, you spent the rest of the evening out together, every laugh and glance shared over the candlelit table a reminder of the journey you’d both been on together, and the exciting path that lay ahead. It felt surreal, like a dream you both dared not wake up from.

The restaurant was perfect—a quiet, candlelit spot with a warm ambiance, the kind of place where you felt like the world outside melted away. It was just you and Franco, tucked into a cozy booth with glasses of deep red wine glinting in the soft light. You both had eyes only for each other.

As you sat down, Franco took your hand, his fingers warm and familiar as they laced through yours. He began tracing soft, invisible circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, a simple gesture that sent gentle shivers up your spine. You caught yourself smiling, wondering if he realized just how much these little touches meant to you.

“Who are you most excited to see on the grid?” you asked, playfully narrowing your eyes at him. You knew he had a few favorite drivers, people he looked up to and couldn’t wait to work alongside. The mere thought of him among the ranks of those he admired filled you with pride.

“Ah, I can’t lie,” he said with a grin, leaning closer. “It has to be Alonso. To think that I’ll be racing alongside him… It still doesn’t feel real. And Verstappen, too—I’ve watched them since I was a kid, you know? To be up there with them, fighting for positions on the same track…” He shook his head, a little awestruck, and you could see the light in his eyes, that spark of a dream coming true.

You squeezed his hand, feeling his excitement wash over you like a wave. “It’s everything you’ve worked for, Franco. And you deserve it more than anyone.”

He gave you a bashful smile, a flicker of vulnerability in his expression. “I’d never have made it here without you, Y/N. You’re my biggest supporter, and that means the world to me.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you murmured, brushing his cheek softly. “It’s just… I’m so happy to see you finally getting what you’ve dreamed of. It’s going to be incredible, Franco.”

The two of you settled into an easy rhythm of talking about the future—where he’d be traveling, who he’d meet, the circuits he was most excited to race on. He laughed as he recounted stories of watching past races as a kid, how he’d imagined himself on those tracks, feeling every turn and straight as if he was already there.

“To celebrate,” he began, leaning back with a mischievous smile, “we should travel somewhere just for us. No circuits, no media. Just the two of us, like old times.”

Your eyes lit up. “Like a real holiday?”

He nodded. “Exactly. We could go somewhere quiet, off the grid. A beach, maybe. Just us, some sunshine, no worries.”

“Let’s do it,” you said, a smile spreading across your face. “After your first race, we’ll sneak away and have our own little victory tour.”

Franco laughed, shaking his head. “It’s a date, then.” He raised his glass in a toast, and you clinked yours against his, both of you laughing, a gentle warmth in the air as the wine brought out the color in his cheeks.

As he sipped, he looked at you thoughtfully. “What about you, Y/N? This is going to be a huge change. Are you ready for all the travel, the media, the madness?”

You felt his fingers lace through yours a little tighter, a look of genuine concern crossing his face. You took a breath, holding his gaze. “Franco, I’ll follow you anywhere. This is your dream, and I want to be there to support you every step of the way. I’ll be right there, cheering you on, reminding you to eat, helping you decompress after every race. Whatever you need.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, his face softening, his eyes full of that love that had been there from the beginning. “I’m the luckiest guy alive, you know that?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but your voice caught as you noticed something over his shoulder. At a table just across the room, seated side by side with familiar expressions of pride and warmth, were your parents. They were dressed for the occasion, looking right at you with knowing smiles, raising their glasses in your direction.

“Wait… are those… my parents?” you whispered, glancing back at Franco, utterly bewildered. “What are they doing here?”

But when you turned back to him, Franco was no longer in his seat. Instead, he was down on one knee beside you, his warm hand still holding yours. In his other hand, he held a small, velvet ring box, his face a mixture of nervousness and undeniable love.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice soft yet steady. “From the moment I met you, I knew you were something special. You’re my best friend, my rock, and the reason I’ve been able to dream as big as I have. I can’t imagine facing any of life’s twists and turns without you by my side. I want to spend every lap of this life with you. Will you marry me?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, the enormity of the moment crashing over you. You could feel the warmth of his hand still holding yours, the love in his gaze steady and unwavering. You could only nod, whispering, “Yes, Franco. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

The restaurant broke into applause as he slid the ring onto your finger. He rose to his feet, pulling you close, and you laughed through your tears, burying your face in his shoulder as the joy of it all overflowed. It felt as though time had stopped, as though the two of you were the only people in the room.

When you pulled back, your parents were there, wrapping you in hugs, congratulating you both. You looked back at Franco, his eyes never leaving yours, that same quiet joy radiating from him.

In that moment, you knew that no matter where this life took you, every twist and turn would be worth it because you’d be facing them together.

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii @Milkyymelanine @ilovsyou3000morgan @styl1shl1v @eddieharrington @hellowgoodbye

[littleprinces]

Day 12: Age Gap

Haerin x Male Reader

Kinkvember Day 12

She was sitting alone at a quaint coffee shop in Greenwich Village, her eyes scanning the crowd as she sipped her latte. She was new to the city and hadn't made many friends yet. As she looked up from her book, her gaze met mine. I was a 40-year-old man with a lean, muscular build, and I couldn't help but be drawn to her youthful charm.

"Excuse me," I said, leaning over her table. "I couldn't help but notice your book. Are you enjoying it?"

She looked up at me, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Yes, it's a classic. Have you read it?"

I nodded. "Many times. It's one of my favorites."

We spent the next hour talking about literature, art, and the city. Haerin was intelligent and witty, and I found myself increasingly drawn to her. As we left the coffee shop together, I suggested we continue our conversation over dinner. She agreed, and we walked to a nearby restaurant.

Over dinner, our conversation turned more personal. I learned about her dreams and aspirations, and she asked about my experiences in the city. The chemistry between us was palpable, and as the night wore on, I found myself wanting her more and more.

"You know," I said, leaning closer to her across the table, "I've really enjoyed our conversation tonight. But I have to admit, I'm finding it hard to concentrate on anything but you."

She blushed slightly, her eyes flickering with a mix of surprise and excitement. "Is that so?"

I nodded. "Yes. In fact, I think I'd like to see you again. And not just for dinner."

She raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on her lips. "Oh, really? And what did you have in mind?"

I leaned in, my voice low and husky. "I think you know what I'm talking about, Haerin."

She held my gaze for a moment before her eyes flicked down to my lips. "I think I do," she whispered.

The following week, Haerin came over to my apartment. As soon as she walked in, I could see the desire in her eyes. I poured us some wine, and we sat on the couch, our bodies close but not yet touching.

"You're beautiful, Haerin," I said, my hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've been thinking about you all day long."

She leaned into my touch, her eyes never leaving mine. "I've been thinking about you too," she admitted.

I leaned in and captured her lips in a soft, gentle kiss. She responded eagerly, her lips parting to allow my tongue to explore her mouth. Our kiss deepened, becoming more passionate and intense.

I broke away from her lips and trailed kisses down her neck, feeling her pulse quicken under my touch. She moaned softly, her head falling back to give me better access. I nipped at her earlobe, making her gasp.

"You taste so good," I murmured, my hand sliding up her thigh. "I want to taste more of you."

She shivered at my words, her breath coming in short gasps. I unbuttoned her blouse slowly, revealing her smooth, creamy skin. I leaned down and captured one of her nipples in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it before sucking gently.

"Oh, God," she moaned, her hands tangling in my hair. "That feels so good."

I switched to her other nipple, giving it the same attention. Haerin's body was on fire, her hips moving restlessly against mine. I could feel her heat through her jeans, and I knew she was ready for more.

I unbuttoned her jeans and slipped a hand inside, finding her wet and ready. I stroked her slowly, my fingers exploring her folds. She gasped and bucked against my hand, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"You're so wet," I murmured, my voice thick with desire. "I can't wait to taste you."

I slid my fingers out of her and brought them to my lips, sucking them clean. Her eyes widened at the sight, and I could see the desire in them. I pushed her back onto the couch and slid down her body, my hands gripping her hips.

I hooked my fingers into her jeans and panties and pulled them down, revealing her glistening pussy. I leaned in and ran my tongue along her slit, tasting her sweetness. She moaned and arched her hips, giving me better access.

I licked and sucked at her clit, my tongue swirling around it before flicking it lightly. Haerin's moans grew louder, her hands gripping the couch cushions. I slipped two fingers inside her, curling them up to hit her G-spot.

"Oh, God, yes," she cried out, her hips moving in time with my fingers. "Right there, don't stop."

I kept up the pressure, my fingers moving in and out of her while my tongue worked her clit. Her breath came in short gasps, her body tensing as she neared the edge.

"I'm close," she panted. "So close."

I increased the pressure, my fingers moving faster and harder. Haerin cried out, her body convulsing as she came. I lapped up her juices, savoring her taste.

I stood up and undressed quickly, my cock rock hard and ready. Haerin watched me, her eyes filled with desire. I climbed on top of her, my cock poised at her entrance.

"Are you ready for me?" I asked, my voice gruff with desire.

She nodded, her eyes locking onto mine. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm ready."

I pushed into her slowly, giving her time to adjust to my size. She was tight and wet, her pussy gripping my cock like a velvet glove. I groaned at the sensation, my hips moving slowly at first before picking up speed.

"You feel so good," I grunted, my hips moving faster. "So tight and wet."

Haerin wrapped her legs around my waist, her hips moving in time with mine. "Faster," she begged. "Harder."

I obliged, my hips slamming into hers as I fucked her hard and fast. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room, our moans and cries echoing off the walls.

"Oh, God, yes," Haerin cried out. "Right there, don't stop."

I could feel my orgasm building, my cock throbbing inside her. I reached between us and rubbed her clit, my fingers moving in time with my hips. Haerin's eyes rolled back, her body tensing as she came again.

"I'm going to come," I groaned, my body tensing as I pushed into her one last time. "I'm going to fill you with my cum."

I came with a roar, my body shaking as I filled her with my seed. I collapsed on top of her, our bodies slick with sweat. I rolled off of her and pulled her into my arms, our bodies still joined.

"That was incredible," she whispered, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest.

I smiled, my eyes closed. "It was," I agreed. "And I'm not done with you yet."

We spent the rest of the night exploring each other's bodies, our passion and desire never waning. As the sun rose, we lay entwined in each other's arms, our bodies sated and satisfied.

[daydreams-after-dark]

Free Use Jail Cell, Part 6

MDNI // 18+ content

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader

Premise: you're arrested and held for 24 hours by 8 police officers at the local police station / reader has her fantasy play out.

Word Count: 3.8k approx (part 6)

Chapter Summary: You are at the mercy of Chief Chan and Officer Felix.

A/n: The time has come! Finally the Aussies have their way with y/n. I know so many of you have been hanging out for this chapter, sending messages and comments, and I'm so excited to share it with you. I know it was a long time coming.

Two things I need to mention, though. The first, I forgot Minho was a detective in the last chapter and called him 'officer' (do you think he'd be a dear and punish me for my mistake?), and two, I mentioned his clothes got soaked in the shower, but nothing about him changing into dry clothes. Let’s just pretend he did.

CW below the cut.

CW: where do I start? Frisking innapropriately, vaginal and anal fingering, photographing of injuries, pinching a nipple, spanking with a belt, handcuffs, bloody lip, hole inspection, crude language about how swollen and how much it's going to hurt, spit roasting, oral sex (m rec), cum eating, cream pie, size kink, name calling (cockslut, whore, babygirl, good girl etc, multiple orgasms, brief breeding kink, rough sex, soft dom moments from Chan and Felix, double vaginal penetration, color system (all green for go ahead), aftercare, angst (you'll see why).

>>>>>>>>

The time arrives for you to finally visit the chief and one his officers, Felix.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Minho says as he does up the last button on the oversized shirt he’d helped you into.

You nod. You’re ready, but nervous.

“Now, remember your color system, your safe word. You don’t have to do anything you don—“ he stops abruptly, coughing awkwardly as he realizes he sounds far too concerned than he should.

Flustered, he clenches his hands into fists and steps back from you.

Again, just like earlier, your heart flutters for just a brief moment, and you swallow hard. You can’t understand it. This is definitely not the context to be feeling things.

Detective Minho walks close to your side as you make your way to the Chief’s office, a protective hand on your lower back.

“Just knock and wait for them to answer.” He says stopping at the door. “Make sure you’re a good girl for them, okay?” He leans in to your ear. “I can’t wait to feel you again later.” Your eyes widen and your cunt clenches, but he walks away like he said nothing at all.

Knock knock.

You tap on the door and wait.

You only have to wait a brief moment before the door opens and you see Office Lee. Felix. He gives you a big, beautiful smile and ushers you into the office.

You’re taken by surprise when you’re immediately spun around and your chest is pressed against the wall beside the door.

“Gotta frisk you, love.” Officer Felix says sweetly. His hands are firm and deliberate as he pats over your shoulders and arms, the down the sides of your body.

“You’ll need to step a little wider, please.” He whispers in your ear.

You part your legs and his hand immediately drags up your inner thigh to cup your pussy, sending tingles through your body. You lean your head against the wall and let out a shaky breath.

“Need to do the internal now.” He says low and slips a finger deep into your heat. You squeak at the intrusion, but it turns to a low moan when he slowly drags his finger in and out of you. His fingers are expert, knowing exactly where that sweet spot is inside you. You rock back against his fingers and moan again.

“Hmm,” he says, “looks like you’re hiding a lot of creaminess here.” He reaches around, offering his cream-coated finger to your mouth. You open and let him slip it inside, pressing it against your tongue, and you suck it willingly.

“Now for the other pretty hole.” There’s a strain in his voice as he snakes his other hand underneath your shirt to find your ass. You whimper around the finger in your mouth as he presses his other against your hole.

The ring of muscle offers little resistance, and the tip of his finger pushes past the rim. Your eyes squeeze tight and your hands press into the wall to steady yourself as he begins to press his finger in further. Although your ass has already had plenty of things done to it in the last twenty four hours, the stretch still feels like a sweet mix of pleasure and pain.

With two fingers scissoring your ass, and a few shoved into your mouth, you’re on the brink of coming. You know that somewhere in the room Chief Chan is watching, even though you didn’t get a chance to see where he was.

Your moans are muffled from Felix’s fingers, and your cunt is leaking arousal down your inner thighs. You feel like a mess and they haven’t even started yet.

Your legs tremble as your pussy clenches around nothing, and you come, pathetically, just like that.

Felix removes all his fingers from your ass and your mouth, and wipes them on your shirt. “Good girl. Now we need to take photos. Come.” He grabs your arm and guides you to turn around.

This is the first time you see the room. It really does look like a Police Chief’s office, with a long, low coffee table surrounded by armchair couches.

At the far end of the room is a large timber desk, and sitting on the edge of the desk is the Chief. Chief Chan.

“Y/n.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling, his expression devilish. “Now you’re going to be a good little prisoner for us, yeah?” He stands up only to take a seat in the couch at the head of the coffee table. “Gonna let Officer Lee here take some good photos of your injuries?”

He settles into his chair. “Strip.” He commands.

Your hands tremble as you unbutton your shirt and let it fall to the floor, leaving you bare for them.

“Fuck.” Chan mutters under his breath. “So perfect.” He swallows hard. “Felix, get started.”

Felix pulls a set of handcuffs from his belt and secures them around your wrists in front of you. “I need you on all fours on the coffee table. Ass towards the Chief. He needs to see all of you.”

You climb onto the table, positioning yourself so Chan can see everything. He lets out a low hum, when he sees the red welts on your ass cheeks.

Felix retrieves a camera from a drawer to the side of the room, and begins to photograph and take note of your injuries.

“Those red welts would be from the paddling she received in the interrogation.” Felix says. Click. Click. “And this cut on her neck, was from Jeongin in the shower.” Click. Click. “Note, there’s also some minor marks on her wrists from various restraints.

“What about her nipples?” Chief Chan interrupts.

“Up on your knees, I need to check.” You rise to your knees and Felix reaches out to stroke your nipple, causing you to shudder under his touch.

“They’re a little bruised.” He tweaks the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, then pulls away to take a photograph.

You look down at your nipples to see they are in fact bruised. You hadn’t realized how hard Minho and Seungmin had those clamps attached.

Felix continues to examine your body, photographing any marks or bruises he finds along the way.

“Chief. Would you like to do the honors? Y/n, back on your hands and knees. Its time for your ‘hole inspection’.”

Fuck! The words ‘hole inspection’ hit you straight in the pussy.

“Of course. Pass me your torch. Spread her ass wide for me.” Chan says gruffly, his tone laced with arousal.

You sense Chief Chan moving behind you, and the click of the torch. With a hand on each of your cheeks, Felix spreads you wide so you’re on display. You feel a surge of heat wash over you. You’re excited, aroused, and so fucking nervous. You’re loving being vulnerable like this.

You feel a pad of a thumb on your clit, rubbing harsh circles on it. You lean your head on the table, trying your hardest not to whimper. It’s difficult though. Especially how they’re talking about you like you’re nothing but a fuck toy.

“Fucking hell, Felix. Look at how used her cunt looks.” Felix leans in for a closer look, while Chan jams a finger inside your pussy. “Her lips are swollen. So red. Rubbed raw.” He says incredulously. “Chief? How’s she gonna take both our cocks. She looks too swollen.”

“Don’t worry, Lixie. We’ll make them fit. Every inch of us both.” Chan laughs like a crazed man as he tries to spread your hole wide so can try and see inside. “Look at that! She likes the idea of it being a struggle, she’s dripping wet.”

Chan runs a finger along your wet folds, gathering your creaminess. He’s not wrong. This is one of your fantasies. Taking two huge, throbbing cocks in your tight, abused little cunt.

You bite your bottom lip, willing the intrusive thoughts about how sick you must be away, and instead try to remember Detective Minho’s words. “You’re not a sick freak”.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when a loud harsh slap of a belt lands on your skin, hitting you where you were still tender from the paddling.

The sting is almost unbearable, and you bite down on your lip so hard you taste blood.

Another hit with the belt has you crying out, and the third strike has you sobbing loudly.

The fourth lands on your swollen pussy lips, and your knees buckle, causing you slip and land on your stomach.

Chief Chan doesn’t care, and he keeps landing more hits with the belt on your ass.

Felix gently pushes your hair off the side of you face and leans in, kissing your cheek gently.

“Remember you can use your safe word. What color are we on?” He stokes your back awaiting your answer.

Chan pauses his ministrations.

“G-g-green.” You sob. “P-please….need to c-come.” You begin to bawl your eyes out.

“Shh… it’s okay. We’ll take care of you.” Felix reassures you, continuing to stoke your back, and Chan rubs your cheeks gently, before landing three more strikes to your sore ass.

“Time to make the Chief feel good.” Says Felix. “Then we can make you feel good, yeah”. He helps you up but doesn’t uncuff you.

He turns you to face Chan who has resumed his seat in the armchair. He appears to like what he sees. You with tear streaks all down your face, and a bloody lip that’s beginning to drip down your chin, it seems to have an effect on him.

He exhales sharply, his jaw clenched and fists in tight balls on the chair arms. You know he’s going to absolutely enjoy this.

“Come. Down on your knees for the Chief.”

You kneel between Chan’s widespread legs and look up it him through your eyelashes. He leans down and wipes your lip, smearing blood across your face.

“You seem to enjoy pain.” He says low, cupping your cheek. You stare at him wide eyed, holding your breath. “Which is lucky, cos you should have seen your cunt just now. I promised Officer Felix we’d make it fit, but I’m not so sure you’re gonna be able to take it without it hurting.”

You gulp.

“Now,” His grip on your jaw tightens. “I need you to put this pretty little mouth to good use while Felix tries to pry you open a bit, yeah?”

He leans back in the chair waiting for you to begin.

You can already see he is big just from the bulge in his trousers, and when you release it from its confines you can’t help but gasp at the sight.

Enormous. So many thick, pulsing veins, and it's heavy. So fucking heavy looking.

You hold it tentatively in your still cuffed hands, giving it an experimental pump. He hisses loudly when you lean down and lick the slit of his cock head.

“I think you can do better than that.” He growls and grabs a fist full of hair on the back of your head, pushing you down over his length.

He pushes you too deep and you gag loudly around him. But he simply chuckles at your struggle and holds you there.

Felix positions himself behind you, kneeling and pressing his cock to your entrance. He holds your hips steady with one hand and pushes into you. Chan was right, you are swollen, and it is a big stretch just to accept the tip.

Chan loosens his grip on your hair, giving you the opportunity to show him what a good little girl you can be.

You sink back over his shaft, relaxing your throat to take him just that little bit more. He groans in approval and rests his head back on the couch.

Felix fills you inch by inch. It stings, yet it feels so satisfying to be stretched open. You groan, the vibrations from your mouth making Chan shudder.

Felix slams the last of his length inside you, taking you by surprise and making you choke on Chan’s cock.

He then thrusts slowly, allowing you to concentrate on pleasing Chan, but every drag of his cock inside you is bringing you closer and closer to another orgasm.

“I wish all pussies were this compliant.” Felix laughs. “This one’s opening up perfectly.”

He rolls his hips a few times, grinding against you deliciously, then snaps his hips hard, hitting your cervix brutally. He alternates between these actions, driving you crazy, sending you closer and closer to the edge.

Chan lets you do all the work on his cock, watching you drool all over it sloppily. Sucking, licking, gagging. You take as much as you possibly can into your throat. You use your hands where you can’t reach with your mouth. Every now and then he pushes your head down a little more, testing your limits.

“Fuck! She’s so tight, Chief. You wanna feel her? I’d love to come in her mouth if I’m allowed?” He thrusts into you hard. “I’m so close.”

“Mmm, yes, let me fill her little cunt with my cum, you fill her mouth.” Chan agrees.

You’re abruptly emptied of both penises and directed to straddle Chan on the couch with one foot on either side of him, and your back against his chest. He hooks his arms under your thighs and with Felix guiding Chan’s cock to your entrance, you’re lowered onto his length.

You whimper as your body stretches to accommodate him as he continues to fill you bit by bit.

You’re too full. There’s no way in hell you’re going to fit both of them at once.

Eventually, your ass meets his hips and you’re fully impaled on him.

“Fuck, yes. Such a good, tight, filthy cunt.” Growls Chan and he rolls his hips up against you while pulling you down as hard as he can.

You cry out.

“Shh now. Here.” Felix rubs the tip of his leaking cock against your check. You turn your head and open up to take him. He fucks your mouth a lot rougher than he fucked your cunt, pushing himself deeper and deeper into your throat on every thrust. It only takes a few minutes for him to cum down your throat with a pretty moan, his head thrown back.

It makes you clench hard around Chan. “Babygirl likes a belly full of cum? Good, cos she’s gonna be fed a whole lot when all the officers take her at once.” He says, pounding into you from below.

“Open up, love. Show me your empty mouth. That’s it. Good girl.” Felix is pleased when you stick out your tongue and show him just how hungry you are.

He removes the the remainder of his clothes and starts to fist his cock, working on getting it hard again.

Chan stands up, pushing you off his cock and laying you onto the coffee table unceremoniously. He folds you in half, pushing your legs up and then absolutely rams himself into you over and over.

The cold hard wood underneath you is uncomfortable on your back as you’re being fucked into it.

“You like this? You fucking little whore? Hmm? Love having a fat cock filling you up like this?” He leans down and kisses you. It’s unexpected, but you welcome it. It’s rough and harsh, just like his cock, and the pressure inside you becomes too much.

He pulls away and you look down to see just how thick and long he is, and how much he stretches and fills you. Your engorged, pink lips enveloping him as your cunt sucks him in. You whimper as your body starts to shake, and with a loud cry, you drench his cock, clenching around it, coming hard.

“That’s our girl. Yeah milk me. Milk Channie’s huge cock!” He demands as his eyes scrunch tight and he lets out an animalistic growl as he coats your insides.

He pulls away, panting, sweating, exhausted, and removes his clothes hastily.

Felix is quick to photograph the cum leaking out of you and you hold your legs up to ensure he gets a good view.

“So perfect.” He approves and sets the camera aside. “Y/n. It’s time. Let’s change positions.” He smiles and uncuffs your hands and helping you to your feet.

Chan produces a blanket from a drawer and spreads it out on the coffee table. He lays down on it and instructs you to straddle him.

Holding his cock steady, he pushes inside your still leaking cunt once again. It’s an impossibly tight squeeze, especially after your orgasm, but somehow he manages to fill you to the hilt. You both exhale sharply when he lifts you slightly and pulls you back down again.

“Come here, lean on me.” He invites you to lay against his chest and he wraps his arms around you. “You’re already choking me. I’m not sure I’m going to survive this.” He whispers against your ear.

He fucks you slowly for a few minutes, grinding up into you over and over. Meanwhile, Felix caresses your body, stroking your back, your ass and presses kisses along your back. He spreads your cheeks and curses low at what he sees.

You’re melting under their softer approach, which you know is all part of them relaxing you for what’s about to come.

“That’s it. Good girl.” Cooes Chan.

“Feels s'good.” You mumble.

“Yeah? You ready to take Officer Felix? Think you can do that for us?” He purrs.

You nod against his shoulder. “Wanna be a good girl.” You whimper.

Chan chuckles. “Yeah? I know you’re gonna be. You’re gonna take Felix like a good little cockslut.”

You feel Felix behind you, positioning himself. “Fuck, Chan.” Felix says uncertainly. “She looks so full already.”

“She’s okay, Lix. She’ll take you no matter what. Let’s fuck her brains out. Tear up her pussy.”

You moan and clench around Chan. You’re certain this man could make you come just with his filthy mouth.

You let out a low groan as Felix presses the tip of his cock at your entrance alongside Chan.

“F-fuck!” You cry when his tip pushes past the opening. “S’too much.” You pant.

“Color?” Chan says sternly.

“G-green. J-just slow, please! Slow.”

Chan holds you with one hand around your back, the other gently holding your ass, pulling the cheek aside to help give Felix access. “You guide us, yeah?”

“You ready to try for more?” Felix asks, a kindness in his voice. The man seems so kind, so considerate. You want to have him inside you too.

“Yes…more.” You pant.

Slowly, and under your direction, Felix squeezes in next to Chan. “So tight. Chan, how are you holding up?”

Chan’s voice is shaky when he answers. “M’not gonna last, mate. Pussy’s too good.”

“More…please…make me take it. Wannabe a good girl! Wanna come on two cocks. Just fuck me!” You ramble and nuzzle against Chan.

The stretch is nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Your walls are stretched further than they have ever been, and they’re so deep inside you, owning you, making you theirs.

You begin to drool, as they take turns withdrawing and thrusting in a beautiful rhythm.

The men growl and grunt as they work together, eventually deciding that instead of one thrust in while the other withdraws, they are going to thrust in at the same time.

“Oh god! Fuck!” You wail.

The both laugh at your reaction, pleased with themselves.

“Harder! More!” You demand. You need them to really give it to you like they promised.

“Make it hurt!”

Their reaction tells you it is music to their ears to hear that.

“Ready, Lix? You heard her. Babygirl wants it to hurt.”

You almost regret it straight away. Felix’s fingers dig into your hips hard, and Chan digs his feet into the table for leverage.

Together they don’t hold back, fucking you brutally. You feel like your cunt is about to split into two. It’s stretched to its limits, yet it craves more. Frantically, you seek more friction, more depth and your body automatically pushes back down against them seeking more.

Lewd sounds fill the office. Sweaty skin slapping skin. Moans, whimpers and curses of ‘fuck’. Then there’s the wet sounds of your pussy. It’s all so dirty and filthy.

You feel yourself so close to your another orgasm, and when both men move a finger to your ass, you know you’re a goner.

“Think you can take both our fingers?”

“Ngh…y-yes…give it to me.” You sob.

The moment you feel your rim give way, and their fingers slip inside slightly and pulling in opposite directions, stretching your hole wide, your body shakes uncontrollably, and you come hard with a sound that can only be described something raw, something primal.

“Fuck! You feel that?” Cries Felix, slamming into you as hard as he can.

“Y-yeah! Fuck, she’s gonna suck us dry. So tight…. Fuuuuck!!” He groans as he cums, releasing himself deep in you. “That's it, let us breed you like a bitch in heat. Gonna take Lixie’s cum too? Mmm yeah? Gonna suck the cum out of him with your tight, hungry little cunt?”

“Mmhmm… yess…need his cum too.”

“Wanna be bred, yeah?”

“Y-yes….please. Please. Need it.” You’re dribbling all over Chan’s chest, mumbling in confusion. It all feels so overwhelmingly incredible. So good you’re going to -

“I’m fucking coming again!” You cry, clamping down around the the two men.

“Oh fuck! Gonna give you my cum. Gonna-”

Felix’s hips falter as he cums, filling you so much that it begins to seep out around both cocks.

He slips out of your tired pussy, and you already feel far too empty, and then Chan pulls out too making you sob at the loss.

“You okay?” Felix wraps a blanket around you and Chan produces warm towels to clean you up.

You nod and smile, although you’re also bawling your eyes out from how euphoric the experience felt. “It was so good. Thank you for being so…considerate. You know, letting me set the pace. As you know, that was my first time.”

“Of course.” Chan kneels down in front of you. “We take our roles very seriously. Our client’s needs are our top priority.” He wipes a tear away. “Now. You need to stay here and rest. Felix will bring you food. And if you are still up for it, we will commence the final request of yours as soon as you're good to go."

>>>>

Minho listens from the other side of the door. That’s right, you’re a client. Nothing more.

He sighs.

Then why did he listen to that entire interaction? Why did he feel like he needed to make sure they didn’t take things too far with you? Or that they would honor your safe word?

He knows Chan and Felix wouldn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with, yet he stood there, fists clenched, listening to you whimpering? Waiting for an excuse to barge in there.

Fuck! He cards his fingers through his hair.

Why did he feel jealous when he heard the sounds that your sweet cunt made when they were inside you? Why did he want to burst in there and rip them from your body and sink himself inside you?

Why the fuck does he care so much?

He settles his mouth into a thin line. He know why, and it's absolutely not ideal. Not to mention it's against the rules of the job.

He sighs again and forces himself to walk away. He needs to figure out a way that he's going to handle watching you get gang banged, and quick.

>>>>

a/n: Oopies, someone is struggling with some feelings it seems. How did you enjoy this chapter? I really wanted to make it a longish one and really give the the Aussie their moment. Please, if you enjoyed, consider a reblog or leave a comment. I love hearing your thoughts on this series.

>>>>

@jeonginsleftcheek @meilix @itgirlalisaa @linocz @boi-bi-ahaha @frozenpeasworld @grandma143 @milkypinkmimi @bangchansbbgirl @leefelixsslut @privhace @justforreaders @galaxycatdrawz @melochacco @jiwoos-babygirl @lunearta @kavifornia @chuuyaobsessed @iadorethemskz @hyun-hwanj @courtnort455 @brimarie0512 @dwaekkicidal @kibs-and-bits @txa-r @minh0scat @the-sweet-rose @chrizzztopherbang @velvetmoonlght @youcanstayyeah @skzswife @stephanieeeyang @withnia @kibs-and-bits @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @ihrtlino

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin@weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @jiminssluttyminx @dool-set-net @redstayrosie @mintymintmint251 @katsukis1wife @delulustardust @eastjonowhere

[wonderjanga]

I’m Not Brainwashed.

A blizzard hit Fawcett. It was a pretty harsh one too. His apartment doesn’t have heating too. So, Billy went on a journey to find a warm place to sleep.

First, he tried the corner owned by a nice old man. The man said he could bask in the store’s warmth until the store’s closing time.

Old Man: “I’m sorry, it’s just I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here overnight.”

Billy: “There’s no need to apologize, Mister. It’s fine.”

Old Man: “But it isn’t. I wish I could keep you longer but I can’t. Here.” *gives Billy some wrapped sandwiches* “Come back tomorrow. I’ll let you stay again.”

Billy: *small smile* “I’ll try. Thanks, Mister.”

Billy would definitely come back tomorrow, but for now he had to find a place to sleep for the night. This was when Billy made the unfortunate mistake of going to the Rock of Eternity to get out of the cold for a moment.

Billy: *plops down in front of the throne eating one of the sandwiches given to him* “Hmm… Where am I gonna go now?”

Billy didn’t know that those would be his last words as he dozed off at the rock.

A full rest later…

Billy: *stirs awake* “Where am I…? The rock? Geez did I fall asleep?” *feels a buzz from his pocket dimension and pulls out his JL comm and sees like 95 notifications* “-Oh my GODS.”

That’s how Billy found out the hard way never to sleep at the Rock. Turns out, to everyone else, he disappeared. For a WEEK. Damn (he feels like he deserves to curse in this situation) the Rock of Eternity and the weird way it makes time go by. Let’s see… He’d missed an emergency meeting, several messages from his friends, and an either concerned or subtlety threatening text from Batman. Okay. That’s concerning. Uh… You know what? Before he goes and talks to his friends, why doesn’t he go check on Fawcett first?

So, he left the rock, and guess what? The blizzard is still going. He’d be lying if he said this didn’t peeve him. Thankfully, it was daytime, so that means the Old Man would probably let him in the store again.

Old Man: “There you are! You had me worried.”

Billy: “Sorry.” *sounds ashamed*

Old Man: “There’s no need to apologize. It’s just, you said you would be back the next day, and you never came. I thought something had happened to you! I’ve been stress cooking ever since.” *puts a large bag of food into Billy’s hands*

Billy: “I didn’t mean to stress you. You don’t have to give me this.”

Old Man: “Yes I do.” *points to the spot Billy sat the day he had come in* “Now go sit and eat.”

Billy: “Yes, Mister.” *trudges over me eats, feeling bad for making the man worry*

Soon though, Billy had to leave again. He said goodbye to the Old Man and started walking to the blistering cold. He had to find another place to sleep. He looked up the now night sky. He had an idea. It was a stupid one, but it was an idea nonetheless.

The intercom over head announced Captain Marvel’s presence in the watchtower. Wally paused in eating the quadruple double triple quintuple sandwich he made himself. Wasn’t it like 10 pm in Fawcett or something? Cap almost never came to the Watchtower after seven unless it was for monitor duty. The speedster quickly finished his sandwich and decided to go see if something was wrong.

Eventually, he found the Captain near the sleeping quarters. Most members of the JL had one. That included Cap, but as far as Wally knew, Marvel hadn’t so much as stepped foot in that room.

“Cap, buddy! What’re you doing here so late?” Flash asked, causing Marvel to startle.

“Oh uh… I thought I’d get some sleep.” The Captain said, anxiousness rolling off him in waves.

“I thought you didn’t need to sleep?”

“Well, I don’t, but I still like to, y’know?” Marvel said, scratching the back of his neck.

Flash shook his head. “Not really.”

A small, out of place, awkward silence filled the hallway where they stood for a moment before Flash spoke up again, “Where have you been all week-”

“Night!” Cap cut him off, quickly entering the room and letting the door shut behind him, abruptly ending the conversation.

Wally stood there for a few moments. Okay… Something was definitely wrong with his buddy. Had the speedster done something to upset him? He turned to start walking away. He’d talk to his buddy later.

Wally got maybe seven feet away before he heard a loud crash that sounded like lighting and then loud alarms that started ringing throughout the Watchtower. Something about an intruder? Batman walked over to him. Where he came from, only god knows.

“Flash.” Bruce greeted him as he passed, stopping in front of the door Marvel disappeared into just a few moments before.

“Spooky, what’s going on?” Flash sped over to stand next to him.

”There’s an intruder in this room.” Batman replied, as soon as he finished speaking, another large crash of lightning could be heard. The alarm then stopped blaring. This made the Dark Knight pause and start tapping something on the tablet Wally just realized the other man was holding.

“Did something happen?” Wally asked, leaning over to try and see the tablet.

“The intruder is gone. The Watchtower’s also sustained two major electrical strikes that traveled through the tower, temporarily shut down anything in its way. They traveled to this room.” Bruce said.

It was at that moment, Marvel decided to make an appearance. He looked panicked, and when he registered Batman was standing in front of him, the panic seemed to increase. “Mister Batman Sir! Heeeeeeey…”

“Captain, there’s an intru-” Batman didn’t get to finish that sentence before Marvel interrupted him.

“Sorry Mister Batman Sir, but I really gotta be going.” Marvel said hurriedly before speed walking to the zetas. Wally and Bruce watched him go.

Billy should’ve known it was too stupid of an idea to work! He wanted to see if he could detransform and sleep in the bed of the room, but nooooooooo it just had to trigger the alarm. Billy wasn’t proud about interrupting so many (two) people today, but he really, really needed to go because as soon as Flash and Batman step into his room, they’re gonna see two dark lightning marks on the floor. Then they’re gonna try and ask questions. Then that’s gonna lead to Billy having to explain that he can summon lightning to change into a little kid. Then they’re gonna get mad Billy lied to them about being an adult. Then, they’re gonna try stopping him from being a hero, and from there his life as a hero and as Billy Batson will crumble to literal dust.

Around fifteen minutes after Marvel left… Flash was pacing, practically making trails in the ground, “Spooky, he was gone for a week! Not only that but he was acting weird and we got a notification of a security breach. This might sound crazy, but I think it might be that worm thing he mentioned.”

“Worm thing?” Batman asked, sounding incredulous. Wally was wondering why he found that of all the things they’ve seen and heard unbelievable.

“Yeah! He said one of his villains is this little worm that crawls into your ear and takes control your brain.” Flash said, one of his fingers doing a weird wiggling motion as if to resemble a worm.

“So you think he’s being mind controlled?” Supes asked, sounding super concerned. Oh right, he’s here too. He’d just gotten off monitor duty with J’onn. At the moment, the Martian was in the kitchen getting some snacks.

“Yes!” Flash exclaimed. “It could explain why he up and disappeared.”

“Flash, for all we know, he could’ve been gone due to a family emergency or something along those lines.” Batman spoke.

“Well… just to be safe…?” Supes started, sounding cautious as he trailed off and nodded to a nearby cabinet the three, or at least Clark and Bruce, knew housed bug spray.

That was how they ended up cornering Marvel in Fawcett, Superman restraining the man while Batman sprayed bug spray in his face and ears. Meanwhile Flash was standing to the side nervously, holding a jar in case a certain green worm actually crawls out of Marvel’s ear.

So yeah, today was not Billy’s day, let alone week. Also, it turned out that there was a magical creature that was causing the blizzards. He proceeded to promptly beat it up for all the trouble and embarrassment it inadvertently caused him.

Don’t ask why I stopped formatting the dialogue the way I normally do for a couple seconds. I don’t even know. That’s actually why I didn’t post around eleven like I normally do. It was taking a while.

[mapis-putellas]

𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒈𝒐

Paring: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 3800

Warnings: very,very vague top!reader and bottom!alexia.

Summary: After a bad match, you convince alexia to just…let go. [Reqested]

The game had been off from the start, the kind of match that made everyone tense, but for Alexia, it seemed to be especially brutal. She'd come out of the tunnel with her usual fierce focus, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched, but as the minutes ticked by, her frustration was starting to show. Every misstep, every pass that didn't connect, every missed opportunity seemed to pile up on her shoulders, weighing her down.

You were subbed off after the first thirty minutes, legs still fresh, but your heart heavy with worry. From the bench, you watched as Alexia struggled, her movements sharp and uncharacteristically sloppy. Normally so precise, she was just... off. Passes that usually glided perfectly were overshot, shots on goal sailed wide, and each time, you saw her muttering to herself, fists clenched as her frustration grew.

Then it happened. She was tackled, a clean but rough challenge, and she went down hard, hitting the ground with a wince. You saw the anger flash in her eyes, that simmering frustration that had been building all game suddenly igniting. She was on her feet in an instant, shoving the player who'd tackled her with every ounce of strength she had. The other player stumbled, caught off guard, and fell back.

Your heart dropped. This wasn't like Alexia. You'd seen her fired up before, but this—this was something different, something darker, a side of her rarely seen.

The other player, shocked at first, scrambled up and shoved Alexia back, just as hard. For a second, it looked like Alexia might explode. She yelled something in Spanish, the words sharp and angry, her accent thick with frustration. You couldn't make it out, but the look in her eyes was enough. She took a step forward, hands clenched, but before she could do anything else, Mapi rushed over, grabbing Alexia and pulling her back, her voice low and steady as she tried to calm her down.

The referee blew her whistle, striding over to the two players with a stern look, and within seconds, both Alexia and the other player were shown yellow cards. Alexia shook her head, muttering under her breath as she took a few deep breaths, trying to collect herself, but you could see that her hands were still shaking with anger.

The match continued, but Alexia was on edge, her movements sharper, more aggressive than usual. She was pushing herself harder, as if trying to make up for the earlier mistakes, but it only made things worse. When the eightieth minute rolled around, the coach finally decided to pull her off, subbing her out before things could spiral any further.

She stomped over to the bench, shoulders tense, face flushed with frustration. You shifted over to give her room, but the moment she sat down, you could feel the intensity radiating off her, a quiet storm of anger and self-disappointment.

You reached out, placing a gentle hand on her knee, hoping to offer some comfort, but she jerked away, shoving your hand off with a glare that cut deeper than she knew. Her eyes flashed, warning you not to push her right now, and you withdrew, giving her the space she seemed to need.

But you knew, in that moment, that she wasn't in any state to be alone tonight. Sometimes, Alexia just needed you to take control, to guide her through the frustration and self-doubt that lingered after a game like this. She'd never ask for it, never admit that she needed help, but you knew her well enough to see it.

She sat there, jaw clenched, staring at the pitch, lost in her own thoughts. Her fingers tapped against her knee in agitation, her breathing shallow, as if she were still caught up in the heat of the match. She wasn't just mad at the other player or the referee; she was mad at herself, at the way she'd lost control, at the mistakes she couldn't take back.

You watched her, heart aching with understanding. This was the Alexia only a few people knew, the one who carried the weight of her own expectations so heavily that it sometimes crushed her. You wanted to help her, to take that weight off her shoulders, if only for tonight.

*

The final whistle had blown, leaving a sense of frustration hanging heavy in the air. A 2-2 draw was not the outcome any of you had wanted, and Alexia, especially, looked ready to combust. As you made your way toward the locker room, you caught a glimpse of her stalking off the pitch, shoulders stiff, her face a mask of barely-contained frustration. Her body language was unmistakable: this draw stung, perhaps even more than a loss might have, and she was taking every ounce of it onto herself.

Inside the locker room, the usual post-game chatter was subdued. You moved quietly through the room, grabbing both your kitbags, offering a quick goodbye to the teammates lingering nearby. As much as you loved being part of this team, on days like this, the bustle of the locker room felt too much. You knew Alexia needed space, a chance to breathe without the noise, and truth be told, so did you. She had her own ways of dealing with frustration, but after years together, you could read her moods like a book. The quiet of home would do her better than any pep talk here.

Finding Alexia by her locker, you gently took her hand, feeling her tense grip as you began to lead her toward the exit. She pulled back slightly, resisting, her eyes flashing as if daring you to let her go. But you just gave her a steady look, one eyebrow raised, the look she knew all too well. The one that said, behave.

Her gaze narrowed, a low grumble escaping her lips, but she didn't fight you. With a resigned huff, she let herself be led out of the locker room, not meeting your eyes, her face set in a stubborn frown. You didn't say anything, just continued walking, her hand tight in yours as you made your way to the car.

At the car, she hesitated again, eyeing you with that fiery look as you gently nudged her toward the passenger seat. "I'm fine, you know," she muttered, glancing away, her voice a mix of irritation and fatigue.

"Uh-huh," you murmured, giving her a small smile. "Just humor me, okay?"

She muttered something in Spanish under her breath, a faint, frustrated grumble, but she climbed in, sinking back into the seat with a sullen look on her face. You leaned in, pulling her seatbelt across her and clicking it into place, feeling her eyes on you the whole time. She sighed dramatically, as if letting you help was some enormous burden, but she didn't resist.

After tossing your kitbags into the backseat, you took a moment to collect yourself. Leaning against the driver's side door, you closed your eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to let go of the tension that had built up from watching her all night, from trying to keep your own patience in check. Alexia had a way of getting under your skin without meaning to, her frustration feeding into yours, making you crave control, to bring things back to balance. She needed you to be steady, to take over tonight—and you needed to do it, too.

Finally, you climbed in, buckled yourself in, and started the car. Alexia slumped in her seat, staring out the window, her expression stormy and distant. You glanced over at her, your heart tugging at the sight of her looking so defeated, but she was lost in her own world, barely acknowledging you.

For a few minutes, you drove in silence, the low hum of the engine the only sound in the car. You kept glancing over, waiting for her to say something, to vent, to let go, but she stayed quiet, her gaze fixed on the passing streetlights, her fingers tapping restlessly on her thigh. She was wound tight, a storm waiting to break, and the weight of it all settled between you like a wall.

"Alexia," you said softly, testing the waters. "Tough game, huh?"

She didn't respond. Not a word, not a glance, just a flicker of annoyance that crossed her face before she turned her attention back to the window. You tried again, your voice gentle, trying to reach her.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Nothing. She barely moved, her jaw clenching as if she was holding back a thousand things she wanted to say, a thousand emotions she didn't want to share. You took a slow breath, swallowing down your own frustration, forcing yourself to stay calm. She wasn't shutting you out on purpose; you knew that. But tonight, her anger was a wall, and you weren't sure how to break through it.

The silence grew, stretching out between you, thick and heavy. You tried a few more times, small questions, gentle comments, but each one was met with the same unyielding silence, as if she'd put up a barrier between you and her thoughts, and she wasn't ready to let you in.

Finally, you gripped the wheel a little tighter, focusing on the road ahead. If she didn't want to talk, that was fine. You'd let her have her silence, let her work through it her way, but you were there. She might not want to admit it, but you knew her well enough to see it. She needed you to be there, to keep things steady, to take over, even if she wouldn't ask.

As you pulled up to a red light, you glanced over, your gaze softening as you took in her profile, the way her shoulders were tense, her brow furrowed. She was carrying so much, too much, and it broke your heart to see her like this, trapped in her own head, fighting a battle you couldn't help her with.

Without thinking, you reached over, your fingers brushing gently over her hand. She flinched slightly, but didn't pull away, just looked down at your hand, as if considering whether or not to let herself take the comfort you were offering.

"Alexia," you murmured, keeping your voice soft. "I'm here, okay? You don't have to go through this alone."

For a moment, her expression softened, her fingers twitching under yours. But then she pulled her hand away, her gaze hardening again as she looked back out the window, her walls firmly back in place.

You sighed, your heart aching with the desire to help her, to take away the weight she was carrying, but you knew better than to push. You'd done this dance before, felt the tension that always bubbled under the surface after a rough game, and you knew that sometimes, the best thing you could do was wait.

As you pulled into the driveway and parked the car, you turned to her again, hoping she might have softened a bit, but she was still staring out the window, lost in her thoughts. You sighed, more to yourself than anything, and got out of the car, moving around to open her door. She didn't resist this time, letting you help her out of the seat, though she still kept her gaze averted.

Inside, the house was quiet, the familiar calmness a welcome contrast to the tension that had hung over the stadium. You took her kitbag and set it by the door, slipping out of your shoes and giving her a moment to settle. She stood there for a second, as if not quite sure what to do with herself, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides.

Without a word, you stepped forward, taking her by the hand and guiding her toward the living room. She hesitated for just a moment, but then she let herself be led, her steps a bit slower, her shoulders a little less rigid. You sat her down on the couch, and she slumped back, finally exhaling as if she'd been holding her breath for hours.

You knelt down in front of her, reaching for her boots and starting to untie them. She frowned, shifting as if to protest, but you gave her another look, the kind that said, "Let me."

She sighed, rolling her eyes but staying still, letting you slip her boots off one by one. You set them aside and gently massaged her ankles, working out the tension you knew had built up over the course of the game. She let out a reluctant sigh, her shoulders relaxing just a little as you continued to work, your fingers gentle but firm.

"Rough night, huh?" you murmured, keeping your voice soft, almost as if speaking too loudly might break the fragile peace that was starting to settle over her.

She didn't answer, but you saw the faintest flicker of acknowledgment in her eyes, a tiny spark that told you she was listening, even if she wasn't ready to talk.

You moved to sit beside her, reaching out to rest a hand on her back, rubbing gentle circles as you let the silence stretch between you. She leaned into the touch, just a little, her head tipping forward as if the weight of the day had finally caught up to her. You could feel her walls starting to crack, the tough, stubborn shell she wore around her emotions finally giving way, and you knew that soon, she'd let herself lean on you.

After a few more moments, you slid your arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. She resisted for a second, but then she gave in, resting her head on your shoulder, her body relaxing fully against yours. You felt her exhale, a deep, shuddering breath that seemed to carry away some of the frustration, the anger, the disappointment.

You didn't speak. You just held her, giving her the space she needed to process, to feel, to let go of the game and everything that had come with it. You stroked her hair, the gesture soft and soothing, until you felt her muscles begin to unwind, the tension slowly melting away.

In the quiet of the living room, you felt Alexia's breathing finally steady, her weight resting more fully against you. She was softening, bit by bit, the tension easing as you held her. But you knew she needed more than just this brief reprieve. So, with one last gentle rub to her back, you rose to your feet, extending a hand to her. She looked up, her brown eyes dark and searching, and after a beat, she placed her hand in yours.

Without a word, you led her to the bathroom, flicking on the light and setting the room aglow with the soft, warm yellow hue that you knew would help her relax. The quiet hum of the shower filled the room as you turned on the water, adjusting it until it was just the right temperature. You could feel her gaze on you, still quiet, still simmering with the remnants of her frustration, but with that softness now—the beginnings of trust and release.

Gently, you reached for the hem of her jersey, slipping it up over her head in one smooth motion. She stood before you, her skin dewy from the night's exertion, her breathing steady as she let you strip away the day. You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her hipbone as you guided her shorts down her legs, feeling her shiver slightly at the touch. Standing up, you took her hands, steadying her, silently assuring her that she was safe, that you'd take care of her.

Once she was bare, you guided her to turn around, her back to you, and reached for the headband that had been holding back her flyaways. You slid it off and then carefully undid her ponytail, letting her hair fall free, strands tangled from the sweat and effort of the game. You ran your fingers through her hair, untangling it gently, and pressed a soft kiss to the back of her head.

She was still, breathing deeply, and you could feel her beginning to let go. Bit by bit, the last remnants of tension were leaving her body, and you felt a quiet relief settle over you too.

Silently, you stripped down, joining her in the vulnerability of bare skin, and with a gentle hand on the small of her back, you guided her into the shower. The warmth enveloped you both, steam curling around you as you stepped under the stream. Alexia faced you now, her eyes bright and shimmering, filled with something raw and pleading. Her hands hovered near her sides, fingers twitching slightly, as if she wanted to reach out but wasn't sure she had the strength.

You didn't wait; instead, you wrapped her up in your arms, pulling her close until your bare skin pressed together from head to toe. Her arms slid around your waist, and you felt the full weight of her body as she leaned into you, her head heavy against your shoulder. She melted against you, letting out a breath that sounded more like a sigh, and you held her tight, as if grounding her, as if saying, I'm here, I've got you.

You shifted one arm around her lower back, holding her steady, and brought the other to rest across her shoulder blades, cradling the back of her head. She tucked herself into you, her breathing unsteady, and as the water ran over you both, you finally broke the silence, your voice a gentle murmur against her ear.

"I love you, Alexia," you said, each word tender and true. "I'm proud of you. And you're a good girl—always."

You felt her breath catch, a small sniffle escaping her, and a quiet wetness against your neck as her tears mingled with the shower's stream. She was finally letting go, the weight of the day melting away, and you held her close, rubbing gentle circles on her back.

"It's okay, love," you whispered, soothing her as her shoulders shook softly with the quiet release of everything she'd been holding inside. "Let it out, I've got you. You don't have to hold anything back with me."

Her grip on you tightened, and you felt her tremble slightly, her body yielding to the comfort you offered. You leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, letting her know that you were here, that she was safe.

"I'm here, Alexia," you murmured softly. "I'll always be here. No matter what."

She didn't answer, but the way she held onto you spoke louder than words, her face buried against your shoulder as she allowed herself to feel everything she'd been pushing down. You stroked her hair, threading your fingers through the damp strands, and continued to whisper soft reassurances, your voice a soothing balm to the turmoil she'd been holding inside.

"I know today was tough," you said gently. "But you don't have to go through it alone. I'm here for you, always. You're strong, Lex, and you're allowed to have hard days. You're allowed to feel it."

Her breathing slowed as she listened, her body softening further with every word you spoke. You could feel the tension slipping away from her, and when she finally pulled back slightly, her eyes were red-rimmed, her gaze soft and open, filled with gratitude and love.

You brushed a damp strand of hair from her face, your thumb tracing the line of her cheek as you offered her a small, reassuring smile. "You're allowed to let me take care of you too, okay? Even on days like this."

She managed a tiny nod, her lips pressing together as if she were fighting another wave of emotion, and you pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting her feel the quiet strength of your love.

After a moment, you eased her back just enough to reach for the shampoo, and she stood still, watching you with a quiet vulnerability as you poured a bit into your hands and began to gently work it through her hair. You took your time, your fingers massaging her scalp in slow, soothing circles, and you felt her relax further, a soft hum escaping her lips.

"Feels nice?" you asked, a gentle smile curving your lips.

She nodded, closing her eyes as she leaned into your touch, a soft sigh escaping her. You continued washing her hair, working the shampoo down to the ends, your touch light and comforting. The weight of the game was finally lifting, replaced by the gentle, calming presence of this moment, of the warmth of the water and the quiet intimacy of being together.

Once you'd rinsed out the shampoo, you moved on to the conditioner, your fingers gliding through her damp hair with ease. She remained still, her head tilted slightly forward, her breathing even and soft as she let herself lean into your care.

"There we go," you murmured softly, smoothing the conditioner through her hair. "Just relax, love. I've got you."

She murmured something in Spanish, a quiet whisper of affection and gratitude, and you felt your heart swell. You leaned down, pressing another gentle kiss to her temple, and continued your work, washing away the remnants of the day until she was left clean and calm, the tension fully eased from her body.

Finally, you wrapped your arms around her once more, letting the warmth of the shower surround you both as you held her close. She nestled against you, her breathing steady, her heart no longer weighed down by the frustration and anger that had gripped her so tightly.

As the water began to cool, you guided her out, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her shoulders, taking care to dry her off gently, letting her feel your presence and the quiet reassurance of your love. She met your gaze, her brown eyes soft and warm, and you felt the unspoken connection between you, a bond that didn't need words.

"Better?" you asked, your voice a soft murmur as you tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

She nodded, a small, grateful smile gracing her lips, and you returned the smile, knowing that tonight, you'd helped her find peace the only way you could.

Taking her hand, you lead her to the bedroom, wrapping her up in the comfort of  fresh sheets and pulling her close. Her bare skin was flush against your own, neither of you particularly liking to be even the slightest bit apart on nights like this. Her head was tucked within the crook of your neck, and you hold her close, hands tracing gentle circles across the warm skin of her back.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @codiemarin @girlgenius1111 @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @simp4panos

[syluslnd]

Could you maybe do one where reader is a tomboy but decides to wear a skirt in front of Sylus for the first time for a date but is really shy about it? And maybe when he sees how shy she is, he teases her about it? :3

wearing a skirt for the first time in front of sylus

The restaurant was extravagant with glittering chandeliers and white linen tablecloths and you felt out of place as soon as you stepped through the doors. The soft, unfamiliar swish of the skirt you wore made you tug at the fabric, self-conscious. This was the first time you’d ever worn one and it was just for him—Sylus, who had insisted on taking you to this fancy place for a “proper night out.”

As you stood just inside the entrance, nervously smoothing your skirt, you saw Sylus waiting for you near your table. His eyes locked on you immediately, widening just a fraction as he took in your outfit—a soft blouse paired with a modest skirt that fell just above your knees.

“Well, well” he said with a smirk, moving towards you, his gaze practically gleaming. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

You felt your cheeks flush. “It’s just a skirt, Sylus” you muttered, looking down, fidgeting with the hem.

He chuckled softly, reaching out to tip your chin up so you’d look at him. “Oh, I know, sweetie. But it’s on you.” His tone was teasing but there was warmth in his eyes, the usual sharp edge of his gaze softened. “I didn’t even know you owned a skirt. Did you have to raid someone else’s closet for this?”

You scowled, though it lacked any real bite. “No! I… I bought it. Just for tonight.”

“Just for tonight?” His smirk widened, but there was a flicker of something behind his eyes—a glint of genuine appreciation. “Now I feel special.”

Your blush deepened, and you looked away, wishing the floor would swallow you up. “Well, don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, don’t worry, kitten. This is more than enough for me.” He took your hand and led you to the table, clearly enjoying every bit of your discomfort.

When you sat down, Sylus didn’t let up. “You keep tugging at that skirt like it’s going to run away” he teased, a sly smile on his lips. “Are you sure you’re comfortable?”

You glanced at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks again. “I just… I’m not used to this. That’s all.” You tried to focus on the menu, hoping the red on your face wasn’t too obvious.

He chuckled, setting his menu aside as he leaned in. “I can tell.” His voice dropped, becoming softer, almost… affectionate. “You look beautiful, you know?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “I—well—” You stumbled over your words, suddenly finding it impossible to meet his gaze.

“I’ve seen you in a hundred different things but this… this is something new.” He let his eyes roam over you for a moment and you could feel his gaze even without looking at him. “And I have to say, I think I could get used to this view.”

You bit your lip, fighting back a smile. “You’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you?”

“Can’t help it” he said, his smirk returning. “You get all shy and it’s… cute.” His voice softened, a warmth in it that was hard to ignore.

“Cute?” you repeated, rolling your eyes in a weak attempt to hide your smile. “Right, because I’m so cute.”

“Yes” he said simply, his gaze meeting yours, completely serious for once. “Yes, you are.”

You felt yourself blush all over again, your heart pounding as you met his eyes. There was something more in his gaze, something that went beyond teasing, something that had been simmering under the surface for a while now.

And as you sat there, fidgeting in your skirt and trying to keep your cool, Sylus reached across the table, his fingers brushing over yours in a small, reassuring gesture. “Next time, you don’t have to dress up if you don’t want to” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But… if you do, I won’t mind one bit.”

Your heart fluttered and for once, you found yourself smiling back.

[soapssuds]

android!john price x human!reader, or in which you seek a human companion after many years of being alone.

+18, smut, mdni, etc.

You were a fidgety mess as you sat in the waiting area of the office. Your eyes continually glance towards the door as you waited for your name to be called.

The office you were waiting in was like a dating service of sorts. It was for people who had trouble connecting with others. So, to help, one could get assigned or "matched" with a android.

The android could be your friend, a guide, ... a lover. Whatever you need, the android will help. And the android also had a choice too. Some seek companionship as humans do. Others are just fascinated by the whole human emotion concept in general.

Whatever it was, both humans and androids wanted to help each other. To better understand or to just not be alone in the world. And it seemed to help.

You were broken out of your thoughts when your name was called. The doctor beckoning to you to the door as you got up and collected your purse.

"Morning, how are you doing today?"

You smiled at the doctor, "I'm good... though, I am curious about the match?"

It was normal to be nervous. Because sometimes there were people who couldn't even match with an android.

The doctor smiled at you, "luckily we found the perfect partner for you."

You cringed at how she said it. You didn't want the android, whoever they were, to feel like they were being forced into a relationship after all.

She stopped in front of a door, "he's in there."

"Do I just go in?"

"That's all there is to it."

"What if he changes his mind about being with me?"

The doctor chuckled softly at you and ushered you forward, forcing you to open the door with her closing it behind you.

You aren't ready for this, you decided. And just as you were about to back out, someone greeted you.

"Morning love, I was wondering when I would get to meet you face to face."

Putting a on a brave face that consisted of a kind smile and easygoing eyes, you turned towards the voice.

“Morning, uhm… sorry, she didn’t tell me your name.”

“Neither did she tell me yours.”

He stood up from the chair that was situated at the table in the middle of the room, his form was towering. You wondered how he was created in such a way, but quickly stuffed the idea away.

You held out your hand and gave out your name, your eyes holding every anxious thought within them as you hoped you wouldn’t embarrass yourself, “you can call me John.”

He didn’t hesitate to reciprocate your gesture, much to your relief. And when his hand fitted into your own, you were taken aback a little by how warm it was. Your surprise caused him to chuckle which, in turn, caused your cheeks to heat up.

“Now love, I know why I am here, but how about you? What are you looking for the moment you set through those doors?”

He was still holding your hand (most likely to track your heart rate) while his eyes were trained on yours. You wondered silently if he even needed to blink.

“I want a partner… a romantic one. Someone who I can go on dates with, cuddle with in the evenings, and… and be intimate with. That’s what I am looking for.”

You barely managed the confidence to say all of that. Though, you couldn’t deny that you wanted to shrivel up at every single admitted word that fell from your lips. A whole part of you felt so greedy, so selfish. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea-

“Good.”

“G- good?”

He moved his hand to grip at your wrist and gently tugged you forward to where you fell into his chest, “because love, that’s what I was looking for too. It may be hard to believe, but even androids can love.”

You couldn’t stop the giggle that fell from your lips, “and I wouldn’t doubt that at all.”

“Then, would you allow me to take you out on a date so we could properly get to know each other?”

Deciding to just stop worrying for once, you played along. A giddy smile on your lips as you leaned in, “if you would be so kind to escort me, good sir.”

To say the least, you never made it to your little date.

Instead, you had brought him to your home so you could get ready, though, what ended up in you changing your clothes was him politely knocking on your door to help you out which eventually led into him helping you into bed.

A date could always wait for another day, right?

Sure, you were doing things backwards, but with how John had your legs folded up to your chests, you doubted that he cared.

“Ahhh, look at you, love, your cunt is just swallowing me whole.”

He pressed his weight down onto you, his hands gripping your hips harshly as he thrusted into you. His dick plunging and marking your walls, forcing your nerves to remember him. As a steady and hard plap – plap – plap echoed into the room along with your moans and sweet whimpers every time his tip kissed your cervix.

You scratched at his back, your nails digging into his all too real skin as you tried to thrust your hips back into him, desperate for him to go deeper, harder. Removing one of his hands from your hips, he moved his fingers down to your dripping cunt, with precise and careful movements, he started to gently rub at your clit. The way you moaned so loud for him as that thread snapped within you. Your walls clenching hard around him as you came around his hard length. The mere feel of you squeezing his cock had him gushing. His cum that filled you may match the white color of a human man’s but was otherwise just harmless warm fluid created and stored, only to be used in such situations as these.

And to say the least, you were his first partner who let him cum inside, and as he watched you try to catch your breath, he finally released your legs from the mean mating press he had you in. And before he could pull out of you, you had already locked your legs around his waist.

“Again?”

You were breathless, but craved for more. To match with someone like you.. he was truly lucky.

“Only if you’ll ride me this time,” he said flipping you both over so he was now on his back and you were straddling his waist, his cock stiff snuggly inside you.

“With pleasure, and then maybe we can go out on that date later?”

“Whatever you want and more, love. I’m all yours, just as you’re mine.”

[urdreamydoodles]

Hi!!!

May I request something a little angsty to sweet?? 😈

An X-men x teen!reader with that one trope where it’s like:

“You’re not my dad/mom!”

“I know that, do you?”

With characters: Scott Summers, Logan Howlett, Storm, Beast, Magneto, and gambit

X-Men x Teen!Reader

You tell them that they are not your dad/mom during an argument

In the heat of the argument, the words slip out—sharp, hurtful. Their faces fall, stunned and wounded, but there’s a quiet pain in your own heart too, because you know the truth. Later, in the stillness, you find yourself beside them, whispering apologies, and they hold you as if to say: family isn’t only blood, it’s chosen.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Hank McCoy, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff & Wade Wilson

Ooh, you little evil spawn... I love this prompt, and I hope I have reached your expectations <3

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- Logan’s temper is legendary, but he’s always managed to keep it in check around you, knowing you need stability. However, the moment you shout “You’re not my dad!” during a heated argument, he feels a pang of anger and hurt. He’s spent years looking after you, guiding you in his gruff way, and in that second, it stings. Without missing a beat, he snaps back, “I know that, kid. Do you?”

- There’s a cold silence afterward, and Logan storms off, muttering under his breath. He knows he’s not technically your father, but you’re family to him. As he sits alone, drinking and stewing over the argument, he wonders if maybe he’s failed you somehow. He thinks back to the times he’d pulled you out of trouble or taught you some hard-won survival lessons, realizing just how deeply he cares.

- That night, the silence weighs heavy, and you feel a growing sense of regret. Logan has been the one constant in your life, a steady (if rough) presence who’s always had your back. You think about all the times he’s risked himself for you, the moments he’s tried to be there in his quiet, sometimes awkward way. It dawns on you that, without Logan, your life would be far lonelier—and that he truly has become a father figure.

- The next morning, Logan’s in the kitchen, frying eggs and bacon, trying to act like everything’s normal. When you finally muster up the courage to apologize, he doesn’t make it easy. He just grunts, flipping the eggs with a rough edge to his voice, not looking up. But he listens. After you tell him how much he means to you, he lets out a long sigh, and with a gruff but softer voice, he tells you, “Kid, you drive me crazy, but you’re family. You know that?”

- Later, you notice Logan starts going a little easier on you, keeping the snark to a minimum and checking in a bit more often. The bond between you grows even stronger, and while he’ll never be openly affectionate, you sense the quiet pride he has in you. If anyone tries to mess with you, Logan’s first in line to make sure they regret it.

- From then on, whenever you call him “Logan” instead of “Dad,” he just smirks and raises an eyebrow, as if daring you to say what you really feel. In his own way, he’s let you know that titles don’t matter—he’ll always be there, watching your back like only a true family member would.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy isn’t exactly the “strict parent” type, so when you start an argument with him, you’re used to his laid-back attitude. But this time, he gets serious, which shocks you enough to yell, “You’re not my dad!” Remy’s face goes still for a moment, then he raises an eyebrow with his usual calm demeanor, saying softly, “I know, cher. Do you?”

- Remy’s response hangs in the air, and he turns on his heel, leaving you to stew in the aftermath. You’re left alone, staring after him and feeling a pang of guilt. Remy has always treated you like family, his warmth and charm making you feel safe and wanted. You remember the countless times he’s been there for you, offering wisdom and laughter, even when you’ve messed up.

- That night, you can’t shake the look on his face—calm, yes, but with a hint of sadness. Remy’s always seemed so self-assured, but in that moment, it felt like he genuinely wondered if he’d overstepped. You begin to realize just how much he’s done to make you feel like you belong, without ever asking anything in return.

- The next day, you find Remy in the Danger Room, practicing. Nervously, you walk up to him and mumble an apology, explaining that you didn’t mean what you said. He turns to you, an understanding smile softening his gaze. “S’alright, kiddo. I know you got fire in you. Just remember—blood don’t make family.”

- After that, Remy’s even more of a constant presence, always ready to talk, laugh, or lend a hand. He starts making a point to remind you of your strengths, pushing you to see the best in yourself. Whenever he sees you slipping into self-doubt, he’ll casually throw in a story of one of his own mistakes, just to remind you that he’s been there too—and that he’ll always be there for you.

- Over time, you come to see Remy not just as a mentor, but as family, someone who chose to be in your life. He might not have the official title of “dad,” but there’s no question about the bond between you two. Remy’s heart is as big as his charm, and he’s shown you that family is something you build, piece by piece.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt’s patience seems endless, so when you yell, “You’re not my dad!” in the heat of an argument, the words shock you as much as they shock him. He’s silent for a moment, then replies gently, “I know, but are you sure?” He’s hurt but gives you a sad, understanding look before stepping away, giving you space to cool off.

- Afterward, the guilt eats away at you. Kurt has been nothing but kind and supportive, teaching you about acceptance and resilience, even when things are tough. His faith and positivity have been a guiding light in your life, and the thought of hurting him like this twists at your heart.

- You remember moments when he went out of his way to include you, especially when you felt like an outsider among mutants. Kurt has always been there, understanding what it’s like to be different and offering comfort when you needed it most. It hits you that, despite not being your biological father, he’s filled that role with all the love and patience he has.

- The next day, you find Kurt alone in the library, reading. You approach him, nervous but sincere, and apologize for what you said. He listens quietly, and when you’re done, he gives you a warm smile, saying, “It’s alright, mein freund. I will always be here, no matter what.” His forgiveness is immediate, his kindness knowing no limits.

- After that, Kurt becomes even more of a confidant, someone you know you can turn to for wisdom and understanding. He makes a point of reminding you that love is a choice, and he’s chosen you as family. Whenever you’re down, he’ll tell you stories of his own struggles, showing you that strength comes from within, even when life gets hard.

- The bond between you two only deepens, and Kurt’s gentle presence is something you come to cherish. He may not be your dad by blood, but he’s family through and through. Kurt’s unwavering faith in you becomes a source of comfort, a reminder that you’re never truly alone as long as he’s around.

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott is used to being responsible and disciplined, so when you snap, “You’re not my dad!” during a heated disagreement, he doesn’t take it lightly. He stands there, tense and quiet, then responds, “I know. But do you?” before walking away, clearly hurt but too proud to let it show.

- That night, you can’t stop replaying the argument in your head. Scott may be strict, but he’s always had your best interests at heart. He’s spent countless hours training and guiding you, doing everything in his power to prepare you for the dangers of the world. As you think back, you start to feel the weight of what you said, realizing how much you’ve taken him for granted.

- You begin to understand that, in his own quiet way, Scott has been a father figure to you, even if he doesn’t say it outright. Every stern lecture, every training session—it was his way of protecting you, showing he cared. The guilt eats at you, and you know you need to make things right.

- The next morning, you approach him in the War Room, nervous but determined. You tell him how much his guidance means to you, how you didn’t mean what you said. Scott listens carefully, his expression softening as he nods. “We’re a team, and that means we’re family,” he says firmly. “I’m here for you, always.”

- From then on, Scott’s support becomes even more evident. He may not be the most openly affectionate, but he makes it clear that he’s in your corner, no matter what. He starts opening up to you more, sharing his own struggles with responsibility, letting you see the weight he carries as a leader and mentor.

- Over time, you come to appreciate Scott’s steady presence, realizing how lucky you are to have him as a father figure. He may be tough, but his loyalty is unwavering, and he’ll always have your back. In Scott, you find a kind of steadfast strength that reminds you every day that family isn’t defined by blood—it’s built on respect, care, and unwavering support.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- Jean’s kindness is boundless, so when you shout, “You’re not my mom!” during an argument, her expression drops, a mix of shock and sadness. She takes a deep breath, her voice calm but strained, and says, “I know, but I care about you just the same. Do you know that?” With that, she steps back, giving you space to cool down, but the sadness in her eyes lingers.

- In the quiet that follows, you feel a pang of regret. Jean has always been there for you, her gentle support unwavering, guiding you with both warmth and patience. You remember the countless times she’s been there to comfort you, a soothing presence who never hesitated to make you feel loved. The memory of her expression, the way her shoulders slumped, makes you feel worse.

- That night, you find yourself replaying the argument over and over. You begin to realize how much Jean’s presence has shaped your life, that she’s been more than just a mentor or friend—she’s been like a mother, even if neither of you ever said it out loud. Each memory fills you with gratitude and a growing need to make things right.

- The next day, you find Jean in the garden, tending to the flowers with her usual care. Tentatively, you approach her, stumbling over an apology. She listens, her eyes soft as she pulls you into a gentle embrace. “It’s okay,” she murmurs. “I know these things aren’t easy. I’m here for you, no matter what.” Her forgiveness is instant, her hug comforting, as if she understands all you can’t say.

- After that, Jean becomes even more of a mother figure, offering a patient ear and a shoulder to lean on whenever you need. Her kindness is a quiet strength that you come to lean on more and more. You notice she checks in on you more often, making sure you know she’s there, even when words don’t need to be said.

- Over time, you come to cherish her presence even more, recognizing her as your found family. With Jean, you feel safe, loved, and valued, and her quiet guidance reminds you every day that family doesn’t have to be by blood. It’s in the love you choose to share, and Jean’s love is as steady as the rising sun.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- Ororo’s calm strength is like a force of nature, but when you yell, “You’re not my mom!” it’s as if a storm has passed through her eyes. She doesn’t lash out, doesn’t even raise her voice, but she looks at you with a steady gaze and says, “I know that, little one. Do you?” Her words are gentle but piercing, and she leaves you to ponder them.

- That night, as the weight of your words sinks in, guilt gnaws at you. Ororo has always treated you with kindness and respect, guiding you through life’s challenges with wisdom and care. She’s been your rock, the person who’s grounded you, and you feel ashamed for taking her love and protection for granted.

- You think back to all the moments Ororo has been there for you: teaching you about the world, sharing her culture, and encouraging you to be true to yourself. You realize that she’s been more than a mentor—she’s been family. Her quiet strength and unwavering love have been like the rain, nourishing you and helping you grow.

- The next day, you find Ororo on the rooftop, gazing at the horizon. Gathering your courage, you apologize, explaining how much she means to you. She listens, her gaze as steady and calm as ever, before she gently places a hand on your shoulder. “I forgive you,” she says with a small smile. “Family isn’t always about blood. It’s about the bonds we choose.” Her words bring you a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed.

- After that, Ororo takes on an even more motherly role, gently guiding you and always offering wisdom when you need it most. You start spending more time together, finding solace in her presence and strength in her words. She reminds you of your own resilience, always making you feel capable and valued.

- Ororo’s love becomes a source of strength, and you come to see her as family in the truest sense. Her support is unwavering, her guidance is steady, and with her, you find the sense of belonging and family you never realized you craved. She’s a mother figure, not by title but by choice, and her love fills a space in your heart you hadn’t known was empty.

Charles Xavier aka. Professor X

- Charles rarely shows disappointment, but when you yell, “You’re not my dad!” during an argument, there’s a flash of hurt in his eyes. He looks at you thoughtfully, his calm, composed demeanor intact, and simply says, “I know that, but are you sure?” before quietly excusing himself. His voice is soft, but the weight of his words lingers.

- As the reality of your words hits you, a wave of guilt follows. Charles has dedicated himself to making you feel safe, offering guidance, structure, and endless patience. He’s been more than just a mentor—he’s been a father figure, the one who’s always there to listen and guide you without judgment.

- You begin to reflect on all the small gestures he’s made to show he cares, from teaching you with kindness to offering you advice when life felt overwhelming. Charles has seen potential in you from the start, treating you with respect and compassion, and the thought of hurting him leaves a knot in your chest.

- The next day, you approach his study, nervous but determined to apologize. Charles listens, his usual calm presence enveloping you in a sense of safety. He smiles gently, nodding as you express your regrets, and simply says, “I understand, and I forgive you.” His forgiveness feels like a weight lifted, and he reminds you that love and family are choices, not just obligations.

- After that, you feel even closer to Charles, and he continues to be your steadfast supporter. He encourages you to pursue your strengths, guiding you with wisdom and patience, and you start to see him as a father figure you can truly depend on. His calm understanding becomes a source of comfort, a reminder that family can be chosen and built on mutual respect.

- Charles’s influence becomes a grounding force in your life, his guidance always there to lift you up. With him, you find a sense of belonging and love that goes beyond mere words. He may not be your biological father, but he’s family in every way that matters, and his unwavering belief in you becomes a constant source of strength.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Erik is not known for his patience, so when you yell, “You’re not my dad!” it’s like a slap to the face. His eyes harden, his voice cold as he responds, “I know, but perhaps you don’t.” With that, he turns away, his pride wounded but his expression betraying a flicker of sadness. For Erik, family is sacred, and your words cut deep.

- That night, guilt starts to creep in. Erik has been harsh, yes, but he’s always shown you the value of strength, resilience, and conviction. He’s taught you to be bold, to stand up for yourself, and though his methods are tough, he’s been there for you in ways that no one else has. You begin to realize how much you owe to his guidance.

- Memories flood back of times when Erik’s fierce loyalty protected you, his dedication ensuring you never felt alone. He’s been like a father to you, albeit a strict one, and as the guilt weighs on you, you see that his rough edges have been his way of showing love, even if he doesn’t say it outright.

- The next day, you approach him with an apology, your voice shaky but sincere. Erik listens, his piercing gaze softened by something like understanding. He accepts your apology, and in his own stern way, he reminds you that strength is born of struggle. His words are harsh, but his forgiveness is there, hidden beneath his rough demeanor.

- From that moment on, Erik’s presence becomes even more of a steady force in your life. He challenges you to be your best, pushing you to embrace your potential, and though he rarely shows open affection, his actions speak louder than words. He’ll protect you fiercely, his bond with you deepening as he takes on the role of a mentor and protector.

- Erik’s influence makes you feel strong and capable, and while he’s a difficult figure to love, you know that he’s chosen you as family. His pride and determination inspire you to believe in yourself, and even if he’ll never say it directly, his loyalty is proof that you’re family to him, forged through fire and unbreakable.

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

- Hank is rarely one to raise his voice, but when you blurt out, “You’re not my dad!” in the heat of an argument, he freezes. For a moment, he’s quiet, his face clouded with hurt before he gives you a calm but serious look. “I’m aware of that. But I’ve always tried to be here for you, haven’t I?” His voice is gentle, yet his words sting in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Without another word, he leaves, giving you the space you both clearly need.

- As you cool down from the argument, guilt quickly sets in. Hank has been nothing but patient and caring, always offering you understanding and support when you needed it most. His gentle presence has been a source of comfort, and the memory of the sadness in his eyes makes you realize how deeply you’ve hurt him.

- Reflecting on all the times Hank has been there for you, you remember how he would stay up late to help you with your studies, his voice soft and encouraging as he shared his vast knowledge. His kindness was never forced; he genuinely cared, and you start to see that he’s been like a father figure all along, even if neither of you ever put a name to it.

- The next day, you find Hank in the lab, engrossed in his work as usual. Hesitantly, you apologize, struggling to find the right words. Hank stops what he’s doing, looking at you with that familiar, gentle expression. “I appreciate your apology,” he says, his tone warm and forgiving. He doesn’t need to say much to make you feel better; his soft smile is enough to lift the weight from your shoulders.

- After that, Hank is still there for you, but the bond between you feels stronger. He seems to make an effort to check in on you more often, even gently guiding you through life’s challenges with his usual wisdom and warmth. You realize how much you’ve come to rely on him as a steady presence in your life.

- Hank’s compassion and patience become pillars of support as you grow, and he becomes more than just a mentor—he’s family. His encouragement and gentle guidance make you feel valued, and you start to understand that family isn’t just about blood; it’s about those who choose to stand by you, even when things get tough. With Hank, you’ve found a father figure in the truest sense.

Wanda Maximoff aka. The Scarlet Witch

- When you yell, “You’re not my mom!” in a heated moment, Wanda’s eyes flash with pain. She takes a deep breath, her voice steady but laced with hurt as she responds, “I know I’m not. But I’ve always tried to be there for you, haven’t I?” Her voice is soft, a mix of sadness and disappointment that lingers in the air as she turns away, giving you the space you clearly need.

- Guilt settles over you like a weight as you recall everything Wanda has done for you. She’s been a constant source of love and protection, going out of her way to create a safe space for you in a chaotic world. Her kindness has been unwavering, and the memory of her hurt expression leaves you feeling remorseful.

- You begin to remember all the times Wanda has comforted you, her gentle presence like a soothing balm when the world felt overwhelming. She’s always known what to say, her intuition guiding her as she wrapped you in warmth and reassurance. You realize how much her presence means to you, that she’s been a mother figure even if you never said it.

- The next day, you approach Wanda, the words of an apology on your lips. She listens, her eyes softening as you explain how sorry you are. She pulls you into a gentle hug, murmuring, “It’s okay. I understand.” Her forgiveness is immediate, her embrace warm and reassuring, and you feel the weight of your guilt lift as you lean into her.

- After that, Wanda continues to be there for you, her love as constant and unwavering as ever. She’s more protective, always ensuring you know you’re loved and valued. Her presence feels like home, a reminder that family is more than just titles; it’s the bond you share and the love that endures even through difficult moments.

- Over time, Wanda becomes even more of a mother figure, her guidance and love anchoring you as you grow. With her, you find a sense of belonging, a family built on mutual care and understanding. Wanda’s love becomes a source of strength, and you come to see her as family in the truest sense.

Pietro Maximoff aka. Quicksilver

- Pietro has always been quick to defend you, so when you shout, “You’re not my dad!” during an argument, his face falls, his usual bravado replaced by a flicker of hurt. He hesitates, then responds with a hint of vulnerability, “I know I’m not. But I care about you, and that’s not going to change.” He doesn’t say much more, leaving with a hint of frustration and sadness.

- Your heart aches almost immediately after the words leave your mouth. Pietro has always been a constant in your life, fiercely protective and ready to do anything to keep you safe. His loyalty has been unwavering, and the memory of his hurt expression weighs on you, leaving you feeling guilty.

- As the regret settles in, you begin to think back to all the moments Pietro has been there for you, his fast-paced life slowing down whenever you needed him. His protectiveness might come off as overbearing, but it’s always been rooted in love. You realize how much you mean to him, that he’s been like a father figure, even if neither of you put it into words.

- The next day, you find him in the training room, going through a series of drills. Nervously, you approach him with an apology. Pietro pauses, listening intently, and his usual cocky grin returns as he wraps an arm around your shoulder, saying, “Don’t worry, kid. Family fights sometimes.” His words are light, but there’s a warmth in his tone that makes you feel forgiven.

- From then on, Pietro is still as protective as ever, though he seems to make an extra effort to remind you that he’s there for you. He includes you in his adventures, always finding ways to bring laughter and excitement into your life. His loyalty is fierce, and you find comfort in the way he’s chosen to stand by you.

- Pietro’s support becomes a source of strength, and over time, you come to see him as family. He’s there for you in ways that matter, his love loud and unfiltered. With him, you’ve found a father figure who’s more than willing to face the world at your side, his loyalty a constant reminder that family is chosen as much as it is given.

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- Wade’s never been the most conventional parental figure, but when you snap, “You’re not my dad!” he goes silent. It’s rare to see him at a loss for words, but the hurt that flickers across his face is hard to miss. After a pause, he says, “Hey, I know that, but... I kinda thought we had something here, y’know?” He tries to play it off, but the sadness in his voice lingers as he gives you space.

- Almost immediately, regret starts to settle in. Wade has been your protector, your friend, and even if he’s unconventional, he’s always made sure you’re safe. He’s taught you to laugh, to find humor even in dark situations, and the thought of hurting him leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

- You think back to all the times Wade has made you feel cared for, his offbeat sense of humor a constant source of comfort. He’s been like a father in his own chaotic way, always finding unique ways to show he cares. The memory of his hurt expression haunts you, and you feel a strong need to make things right.

- Finding Wade isn’t hard; he’s at the usual hangout, cracking jokes to mask whatever he’s feeling. You approach him, offering an apology, and he listens, his face breaking into a goofy grin. “Oh, kid, you can’t get rid of me that easy!” he teases, pulling you into a bear hug that’s both ridiculous and comforting.

- After that, Wade goes back to being his usual chaotic self, but he’s even more protective, throwing around jokes about being your “self-appointed, totally unofficial, slightly psychotic dad.” His antics make you laugh, and you come to appreciate his unique way of showing love, realizing he’s been there for you all along.

- Wade’s love may be unorthodox, but it’s real, and over time, you come to see him as family. He’s the loud, unpredictable presence you didn’t know you needed, his humor and loyalty bringing you a sense of belonging. With Wade, you’ve found a father figure who’ll stand by you, his love chaotic and unconditional in every way that matters.

[yeostars]

When ATEEZ members realise they're falling in love with you

(with a touch of descriptions abt seasons!)

©yeostars 2024™

♡ Hongjoong .ᐟ

• For hongjoong, the realisation that he's falling for you arrives like the first rush of summer heat- the undeniable warmth rising from deep within, stirring something he can't quite ignore, no matter how hard he tried to. He felt protective of you for some reason, the feeling of wanting to protect you from everything and anything bad arose from within him because he was there with you at your lowest- knowing your deepest fears, your deepest struggles & all the betrayals you had ever gone through.

• At first, he brushed off the feeling merely as a sense of responsibility, being your close friend- as someone who should obviously be looking out for you. But he knew it was deeper than that. Every time he stood closer to you, shielding you from any minor inconvenience - he felt the fire within himself grow.

• You are his summer's heartbeat, a fierce, unquenchable flame that fuels his every step. The moment he realised this, he knew with a certainty that anchored him, that he would bear the darkest of storms for you. You are the center of his warmth, and he finds himself wanting to guard and protect that light forever. If you are in his presence, he wants to be reliable enough for you to always lean on him.

♡ Seonghwa .ᐟ

• Seonghwa falls for you as gently & quietly as the blooms of spring- just like the cherry blossom petals unfurling one by one in the gentle morning light. It begins with the simplest things, your smallest actions- the sound of your voice resonating in his ears, the way your laughter being his remedy fills the room, the warmth in your gaze whenever you look at him, that seems to chase away the darkest of his shadows.

• He feels it in every single moment he spends with you, each small gesture or action by you never goes unnoticed by him. It was like the gentle opening of flowers that he didn't even notice taking root. Just how your warm gaze affects him enough to be reciprocating it with eyes full of love and adoration towards you that does not go unnoticed by any of your mutual friends and acquaintances. He is not afraid to full on display his affection for you.

• All these fleeting moments of adoration towards you gathered together- he finds himself surrounded by an entire garden, each blossom and it's petals a reminder of you. You are indeed the season that took him by surprise, unfolding his heart in a warmth that he didn't know he'd been waiting for. Now, he can't imagine his world without your light.

♡ Yunho .ᐟ

• For him, falling for you was like stepping in a field of summer wildflowers. It was merely just like a dream, you were just like a dream to him- & he dreamt as much as wanting to be your lover boy in such dreams. Every word and every glance exchanged with you felt like sunshine on his skin. He felt his life bloom with vibrant colour - as if you were painting his dreams with vibrant colours merely by your presence. Every conversation Yunho has with you feels like a melody to him, each shared silence a verse.

• You were like the scent of lavender and warmth, the scent of you lingering even when he's alone- leaving him wrapped in the essence of you long after you've left. He finds himself dreaming about doing everything with you, you being his and only his. He's become a lovesick fool to the point he smiles so widely while sleeping sometimes because he's dreaming of you.

• One lazy afternoon- he realises that you are his summer itself - a season of pure light and boundless joy, bearing the kind of warmth he wishes he could hold onto forever. His realisation hits him to the point dreaming about you is just not enough. As if like a silent prayer & a quiet hope- he wonders if perhaps, just maybe- he could be your sunshine and sunlight too, basking in each other's glow like an endless beautiful summer day.

♡ Yeosang .ᐟ

• He realises that he's falling for you as if by surprise, just like the first melt of ice at winters end- a thaw that starts slowly and unfurls in subtle ways. You are the gentle warmth that begins to seep through the cracks, every smile, every word, every glance exchanged with you softening the barriers he had always kept carefully guarded around you.

• Its like you are the only one who can have him this way. He keeps himself guarded around people usually, but he just can't control himself and his emotions when it comes to you. Gradually, as he realised his true feelings towards you, he wanted nothing more than to let you know about them because that was only fair to you. He feels like its an honour to fall for someone as perfect (in his eyes) like you.

• In quiet moments, he finds himself thinking of you, feeling his heart slowly surrender like a frozen lake thawing under the warm spring sun. It's the way he smiles uncontrollably just at the thought of all the moments you spend together. His biggest weakness is your infectious laughter. As you laughter rings out, yeosang feels something inside him shift, as if the last fragment of ice inside him giving away. Although his vulnerability terrifies him, he finds himself unable to turn away from you, the light you shine upon him- and he's drawn to you with a longing as natural as the changing of seasons.

♡ San .ᐟ

• One golden evening, as the sky burned with the shades of amber and crimson, he realised he was indeed, falling for you when he found his gaze lingering on you, mesmerized by the soft light in your eyes. He found you so beautiful, both inside and out. Anyone who noticed his gaze full of longing and admiration towards you, could see the undeniable love he possessed for you. For him, the biggest miracle in his life was meeting you.

• He's enchanted by the way you move through his world, each small gesture adding poetry to his life. Him already being a hopeless romantic, you make him a utter, lovesick romantic, more than he already is by nature. You are the dawn light, the blush of morning that turns his daily life into something precious. He catches himself wanting to hold onto and cherish every ephemeral, delicate moments with you.

• His heart was drawn towards yours, as if by a strong, magnetic force. He realised his world grew brighter around you & he was willing to do anything to keep you close to him forever. He hoped that his presence made your days brighter, too. Like the final blaze of autumn before winter's sleep, he realised that his heart was truly all in, captured by the colours you bought into his life.

♡ Mingi .ᐟ

• Mingi realises it gradually, just like the first quiet flakes of winter drifting from the sky, settling gently on a field yet untouched. There's no urgency, no whirlwind- just the soft fall of something light and unanticipated, a feeling that lands within a hush. A feeling that lands in the midst of his chaos- a calm stillness, much needed peace within his chaos and inner conflicts.

• He notices it in the way his heart slows and warms when you smile, as though the world around him has stilled just to let him listen to that tender beat. Mingi has his own inner conflicts going on within him but when it comes to you- his feelings are clear & it's not a problem to be solved. Just like frost itching delicate patterns on glass, his thoughts on you are crystallised- clear & intricate, filling the quiet spaces of his soul.

• At first, he's bewildered, wondering why he finds himself seeking your presence in subtle ways, a quiet urge to linger by your side. But as winter deepens, so does his clarity. You are his secret ember in the heart of the cold, a quiet glow that warms his season of silence. Be it if he's in your presence or while he's thinking about you, his heart beats with the slow beauty of a snowflake, each memory of you unique and Infinite, and he wants to make even more precious memories with you.

♡ Wooyoung .ᐟ

• It strikes Wooyoung suddenly, like the first exhilarating rush of spring rain- a burst of freshness that leaves him laughing and soaked, a rush he couldn't have prepared himself for. Just like the first flowers of spring burst through the soil, he noticed his heart blossoming when you were near.

• At first, he tries to shake this newfound feeling away, telling himself it's nothing more than a spark of sunshine in his chest, a passing thrill. But the way he reacted to anything and everything you do- his playful boyishness around you was unlike his usual self with anyone else. You and your presence make his ordinary moments special. You made his life livelier and full of joy without even realising it. Every time he teased you, each time you hid the cutest pout on your face as a reaction to his relentless teasing, each time your laughter bubbled up like a spring brook, he feels the same kind of vibrant rain cascading over him, washing away his resolve.

• He realises that he's willingly caught in it, happily drenched in this newfound feeling. Now, he finds himself hoping the downpour never stops, each drop a reminder that he's caught up in something he never wants to escape.

♡ Jongho .ᐟ

• For Jongho, love seeps in like the golden light of autumn, warm and soft but tinged with a bittersweet richness that he can't quite ignore. When the autumn leaves began to fall, he felt something shift- as if his heart , too, was shedding its guard like the trees shed their leaves.

• He has always kept his emotions close- shedding them with careful control, like a tree releasing its leaves. But with you, he feels his defenses slowly giving away, each leaf falling from his guarded branches. It scares him sometimes, how comfortable he is in your presence, he's even more scared to loose you if he ever decides to confess to you & it doesn't quite go well. But if you have taught him anything, it is to be fearless and brave when it comes to love. He finds himself lingering in your presence, captivated by your beauty, your smallest gestures, your smile.

• With you, he begins to release the hold he's kept, opening to every tender pang that vulnerability brings. And although it unsettles him at first, he finds a quiet grace in believing that you are indeed the one he had been searching for his entire life, so why shy away from facing true feelings now? The way he sought your warmth in the cooling air, he knew that he was beginning to cherish the soft presence of your love, like a favourite sweater in October.

[teliphone]

Hi! Can I request pussydrunk Karina overstimulating reader please?

Warning(s): Smut, Oral, Fingering, Overstimulation

-

Pussydrunk Karina would kneel on the ground shyly and beg you to split your legs apart. Her words are quiet, but lance with lust. It’s pretty interesting how she can be so shy yet naughty at the same time. Her cheeks are pink as she stares at you between her eyelashes. Waiting patiently for your approval. You nervously lick your lips and nod your head. When you spread your legs for her, she bites her bottom lips and her eyelids go heavy. 

Pussydrunk Karina would grind her fingers against your inner thighs. Feeling the soft flesh press against her fingertips. She leans her head forward, already drunk in your scent. She then would place her head on your thighs and let her fingers drag along your slit. She’s careful and gentle at first. Sliding her middle finger around your clit to make you become breathless. She wants you to become more wet before she can truly drown in you. Her fingertips start rubbing your clit in a slow circular motion. Your thighs twitch a little, making her smile. 

“So sensitive,” She whispers, more to herself. She likes to analyze and take note of your body. She is sort of a perfectionist. She repeats the motion over and over til she sees you leaking just a little out of your slit. She gets excited and scoops the juice to spread it around your clit. The silkiness makes her fingers rub against your clit more quickly and smoothly. Your cunt starts to glisten as you continue leaking out more. 

She would then replace her finger with her wet warm tongue. The moment she gets a taste of you, she lets out a soft moan. She couldn’t help it. She’s addicted to your pussy. Her eyes would peek up to make sure you are reacting. She adores the way your cheeks turn red, mouth slightly open and chests move up and down. 

Pussydrunk Karina would then slide her tongue down your slit and back up to your clit. She likes to lick and suck your clit hard, making the dirtiest sounds. Your head tilts back and your stomach tenses. You would grip onto the bed sheets or chair to avoid tugging her hair. You didn’t want to hurt her, but she actually sometimes prefers it. So she would try her best to eat you so good that you would end up grabbing her head to thrust yourself into her mouth. 

Pussydrunk Karina gets shy when you praise her with words. You look down at her and brush your fingers into her hair. She looks so lovely while she is kneeling before you. 

“Such a pretty girl,” You moan loudly as you thrust yourself into her. Her body heat raises a few notches. You can visually see her ears and cheeks turning red. She averts her gaze to focus on your core. You find it really cute when she gets all hot and embarrassed. 

“Fuck you’re doing so good,” You shamelessly moan again. Her thighs would squeeze together. She shoves her tongue into your pulsing core, just to satisfy her dirty mind. She drags her wet tongue that’s mixed with your juice and saliva back up to your clit. 

Pussydrunk Karina is so high on your cunt, that she “accidentally” overstimulates you. Her fingers would roughly press against your walls while she continued to lick your clit. She gets carried away, ignoring your cries. She knows you. She knows you enjoy it. You’ve told her before that you like it when she does things that please her. Which is this. It pleases her to see you cumming in her mouth over and over. There is a wet spot forming on her panties, but she is so drunk on you that she doesn’t care that her clit is begging to be touched. She’ll deal with it later. Your hips will jerk around and she has to hold your body down, spreading your thighs even wider. 

“Come for me again,” She begs over and over. Her heavy eyelids look at you. You choke out a moan as you nod your head—anything for her. Sweat is starting to feel sticky on your forehead and neck. You can feel your orgasm building up again. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve come into her mouth already. Karina did too. She just keeps going until her knees and jaw become numb and unbearable. 

Pussydrunk Karina would come up from the ground, legs wobbling, as she stables herself with your shoulders. She leans down and kisses you with your juice all over her mouth. You moan weakly against her.

“Thank you beautiful,” You whisper. She pulls away with a shy smile. She sits on your lap and pulls you into a hug, her core grinding slightly against your thighs. Just to stimulate herself. She listens carefully to your breathing. She makes sure you catch your breath before she starts moving her core again. 

[verycoolusername1]

Maybe It Was Fate

Summary: During the 'hughesbowl' as fans may call it, you are caught in a trance that is Quinn Hughes... unaware that he is your coworkers' oldest brother.

Quinn Hughes x photographer!reader

A/N: I was debating whether to make this nico or quinn as the love interest and Quinn won in the end(nico does have a cameo however)- This was also supposed to be posted the day of the hughesbowl, but stuff came up so here it is now!!

AND I'M CHANGING THE SCORE IN THIS BECAUSE WHATEVER HAPPENED ON OCTOBER 30TH, 2024 DID NOT HAPPEN WHATSOEVER

It's a shock to you that you work with professional athletes, considering you hated sports as a kid. Even now, you still don't know what's going on in hockey. With the players too fast around you, it's hard to keep your eye on one player.

It was the 3rd period, the score being 5-3, the Canucks slowly but surely catching up.

You held your camera in hand, watching the big screen to keep focus... that was until someone catched your eye. You couldn't see his last name, only his face and man was he pretty.

He had green eyes flickered like sunlight within the leaves as he looked up. You could run your hand through his brown locks for days if given the chance.

You shook your head, he was most likely a player on and off the ice. You knew that without a doubt, knowing all about Jack's relationship with women(due to being best friends) but you couldn't help but wonder, would it be different with him?

The fans becoming louder as the game came to a close, the devils capturing the win. You snapped your camera a couple of times towards the devils and secretly took more of the mystery man.

You turned your camera off and it held loosely around your neck as you waited outside the locker room, waiting for Jack to take you home.

You had your back towards the door as you flickered through the photos that you took, your cheeks heating up when you saw the man again. He has a 43 just like Luke but you didn't think anything of it, players share the same numbers all the time. It was just a mere coincidence, right?

"You got all my good sides right?" Jack asked, you quickly turned the camera off.

"Jesus Jack, warn me next time gosh." You hit him on the shoulder.

He only shrugged in response. "Can't really text in the locker room."

You rolled your eyes. "You're actually an idiot."

"Only act like it to make you look smart." He muttered under his breath.

"And what are you two arguing about now?" Luke approached the two of you.

"They called me an idiot!" Jack exclaimed.

"They must have been reasonable to do so." Nico chuckled as he walked past you three. "Don't kill eachother please!"

"Make no promises cap!" You snapped a photo as he looked back at you with a smile.

"Oh Y/N! We want you to meet someone." Luke began to drag your arm in the other direction.

"And before you groan out a half assed reply, I think you'll really like him." Jack added.

You were now beginning to regret telling Jack that you wished you could put yourself out there again considering you haven't been on a date in two months due to your conflicting schedule.

"Do you two know him or-" You looked between the two of them.

"Oh yeah we do." Jack answered. "Very well."

"What does that even mean?" You narrowed your eyes at him, Jack chuckles in reply.

"Trust me, you'll like him." Luke eased your worries.

You finally stopped and Luke dropped your hand as you realized.

"He plays for the canucks? They just lost tonight. I'm sure the last thing he would want to do is go on a date with someone that works for the devils." You explained.

"Well he likes us and we play for the devils sooooooooo you'll brighten up his mood. Ha get it cause you're a photographer and the camera flashes." Jack stopped explaining the joke when he was met with your stern face.

Luke cleared his throat. "There he is now."

You snapped your eyes to the door and realized that was the man that took your breath away moments before just as he is doing now.

"Y/N this is Quinn, our brother. Quinn this is Y/N, the person we've been telling you about." Jack introduced the two of you.

"Brother? He's your brother?!? You guys never told me you had a brother!" You made a mental note to swear at Jack later, with no audience.

"Oops?" Luke giggled. "See Quinn, look they're a photographer. Show them some photos you took tonight." He encouraged.

You quickly shook your head. "No I couldn't possibly do that, I-I mean I still have to edit them and wait..." You looked down to your neck strap and saw that your camera was gone and in Jack's hands.

All three hughes brothers looking at the photos.

"Wait no!" You exclaimed but it was already too late you assumed, Jack was looking at you with a knowing look while Luke and Quinn were shocked.

"How come he gets all his good angles and I don't even one photo?" Luke asked you, in a mocking tone.

"I was distracted," You looked away, embarrassed.

"Yeah because you were too busy looking at our brother." Jack remarked, jokingly.

You rolled your eyes. "I didn't know he was your guys brother."

"I think these look nice, thank you." Quinn finally spoke, looking you in the eyes.

"Oh um you welcome. It's nothing really, it's just kind of my job." You shrugged.

"Then you most definitely picked the right career choice." He smiled softly at you.

Jack and Luke were nowhere to be seen, seemly left the two of you alone for a while.

Your face flushed at his words, he held the camera in his hands handing it out for you.

"You're gonna need this to edit all those photos of me." He joked.

"And I'm gonna need your number to send you all those photos." You held the camera and its neck strap, putting it in your bag.

"Well that was bold, Y/N." He chuckled not nonetheless gave you his phone so you can type out your number, he sent you a quick text.

"It was nice meeting you Quinn, it's getting late. I would head home but Jack seemed to have disappeared." You looked around.

"I can take you home." He offered. "He obviously went to the bar with the team."

You looked up at him and smiled. "I would like that."