#effortless leap

[90smisaki]

ten Disney-style cartoon animals, each with their own unique personality.

[kruemel8]

X.

[faebled-stories]

Turbulence

Kinkvember Day 16: Mile High Club

Nmixx Oh Haewon x Male reader

8.8k words

“Hello, everyone! Welcome back to WORKDOL!” Haewon’s voice rang out with a contagious spark of energy, her words riding the crisp autumn breeze that teased strands of her dark hair across her face. She tucked them back with a practiced flick of her fingers, her radiant smile lighting up the screen. The sunlight played across her features, a golden halo highlighting her natural charisma as she gestured toward the sleek entrance behind her.

“I’m your beautiful and loving host, Haewon, and today’s challenge is taking me to new heights—literally.” Her laughter carried an edge of anticipation, and her enthusiasm practically leaped through the camera lens. The airline training facility behind her loomed like a modern cathedral of glass and steel, its polished facade catching the sun in a dazzling display that mirrored both her energy and the grandeur of the setting. The gleaming reflection framed her figure, a dynamic blend of her bold personality and the facility’s imposing elegance.

Spinning back to face the entrance, her boots clicking smartly against the pavement, she spread her arms in an exuberant gesture. “I’ve done some pretty wild stuff on this show, but today, I’m stepping into the shoes of a flight attendant. And trust me, there’s a lot more to it than just handing out snacks at 30,000 feet.” Her grin widened as she took a confident step forward. “Safety, service, and smooth skies—I’m going to learn it all. Let’s see if I can keep up!”

The automatic glass doors slid open with a whisper, releasing a wave of cool, conditioned air that carried a faint hint of jet fuel and a clean, soapy freshness from the nearby uniforms. Pausing inside the cavernous lobby, Haewon drew a steadying breath, her chest rising and falling as she absorbed her surroundings. The space was vast yet orderly, sunlight pouring through towering windows onto sleek tiled floors. The low hum of conversations mixed with the soft beeping of security scanners, a quiet symphony of activity that spoke of precision and focus.

It was then that she saw you.

Standing near the check-in counter, your presence immediately commanded attention. Your tailored navy-blue uniform was impeccably pressed, each detail from the sharp creases of your slacks to the polished silver wings on your chest exuding professionalism. Yet, it was your demeanor that truly captured her focus—a calm, collected confidence that made the bustling environment seem to orbit around you. When your eyes met hers, there was something both grounding and electric in your gaze, a quiet assurance paired with a welcoming warmth.

“Welcome aboard, Haewon,” you said, your voice low and steady, carrying an effortless blend of authority and approachability. Extending a hand toward her, you added with a faint smirk, “Ready for a crash course in being a flight attendant?”

She took your hand, her grip firm yet lingering just a beat longer than necessary. “Oh, I think I’m ready,” she replied, her tone light with a teasing edge. A playful glance back at the camera crew underscored her words. “The question is—are you ready for me?”

The faintest flicker of amusement crossed your face, softening your otherwise composed expression. “I’ve trained a lot of people,” you said smoothly, your tone betraying nothing but cool professionalism. “But I have a feeling you’re going to be... different.”

Her laugh rang out, light and musical. “You have no idea.”

Falling into step beside you, Haewon matched your calm stride, her eyes occasionally flicking toward you as if trying to decipher the layers beneath your poised exterior. The hallway stretched ahead, its polished floors gleaming under the soft glow of overhead lights. The distant hum of simulators grew louder with each step, a low, almost hypnotic vibration that thrummed through the air.

“So,” she began, her voice playful, “do you always keep it this formal, or are you saving the charm for later?”

You glanced at her sidelong, the corner of your mouth twitching in the faintest smile. “Let’s focus on the basics first,” you replied, your tone both firm and teasing. “Charm might come later—if you earn it.”

She let out a soft laugh, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she shot you a challenging look. “Challenge accepted.”

When the training cabin came into view, Haewon slowed, her steps faltering ever so slightly as she took in the scene before her. The replica interior was a flawless facsimile of an airplane cabin, every detail meticulously crafted to mimic reality. Pristine rows of fabric seats stretched into the distance, their neatly aligned headrests giving an air of almost military precision.

Overhead compartments gleamed under the soft fluorescent lighting, their edges perfectly contoured. At the far end, emergency equipment was arranged with a precision that exuded both order and a subtle, sobering weight.

For the first time, Haewon felt the enormity of the task ahead. Her playful energy wavered just a touch, replaced by a flicker of trepidation. This wasn’t just another challenge for the cameras—this was about responsibility. Lives could depend on what she was about to learn.

“We’re starting with the safety demonstration,” you said, your voice calm but carrying a note of gravity that pulled her back into the moment. “Passengers rely on flight attendants to guide them in emergencies, so this is one of the most critical parts of the job. You’ll learn how to operate the oxygen masks, life jackets, and cabin doors.”

“No pressure, right?” she quipped, her grin returning, though there was an edge of nervousness beneath it.

You gave her a reassuring smile, stepping forward with practiced ease to open an overhead compartment. The soft click of the latch released the panel, and you retrieved a bright yellow oxygen mask. The tubing coiled slightly as you held it aloft, the rubberized surface gleaming under the lights.

“Step by step,” you said, offering the mask to her. Your hand brushed hers briefly, the contact fleeting yet charged enough to make her pause. Haewon quickly recovered, mimicking your demonstration as she secured the mask over her face. Her movements were careful, deliberate, though she couldn’t help but notice how your steady gaze stayed on her, assessing, encouraging.

“Not bad,” you remarked, a flicker of amusement in your eyes as she fumbled slightly with the straps. “You’re a quick study.”

“I’m great at learning... with the right teacher,” she replied, her smirk returning as her confidence steadied.

Your expression didn’t waver, though there was an unmistakable warmth in your tone as you handed her a life jacket next. “We’ll see if that holds true,” you said. “Let’s keep going.”

The training session continued with a steady rhythm, each task blending professionalism with an undercurrent of tension that simmered just below the surface. As you demonstrated how to secure the life jacket, Haewon’s focus wavered. Her attention was drawn to the way your hands moved—precise, confident, every gesture purposeful.

When you stepped closer to adjust the straps on her shoulders, your fingers brushed against her collarbone. The contact was fleeting but sent a ripple of heat through her skin, as if the touch carried an unspoken promise. Her breath caught for just a second, and a soft flush crept up her neck before she quickly composed herself, hiding her reaction behind a practiced, teasing grin.

“There,” you said, stepping back to assess your work. A faint smile played at the corners of your lips, a mix of satisfaction and subtle amusement. “Now you’re ready.”

“Think I’ll pass the test?” she asked, her tone light, though a slight waver betrayed her lingering nerves.

“You’re doing well so far,” you replied, your voice low and steady, the warmth in your tone an unspoken reassurance. The way your gaze lingered on hers for just a moment longer than necessary sent her pulse racing. Then, as if sensing the shift, you turned away smoothly, giving her the space to collect herself.

When the meal service portion of the training began, Haewon found herself walking a fine line between playful confidence and distraction. Carrying the serving tray through the narrow aisles of the mock cabin was surprisingly challenging, especially with you standing close. Your quiet observations, both grounding and unnerving, felt like a spotlight she couldn’t escape. She could feel your presence even when you weren’t speaking, your calm authority acting as both a guide and a silent challenge.

By the end of the ground training, Haewon was beaming with pride. Her earlier apprehension had melted into a palpable sense of accomplishment. She straightened her posture, adjusting the collar of her uniform as she turned to you. “Not bad for my first day, right?” she teased.

“You’ve done well,” you admitted, a hint of warmth softening your typically composed demeanor. But then your expression shifted, a spark of anticipation flashing in your eyes. “But we’re not done yet. In about an hour, you’ll put everything you’ve learned to the test—on a real flight.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, though excitement quickly replaced any hesitation. “An actual flight? Already?”

You nodded, your faint smirk returning. “No pressure.”

Her laugh was bright and full of confidence, though a nervous energy buzzed beneath the surface. “Bring it on.”

-----

The short break passed in a blur, and before Haewon knew it, she was standing in the aisle of an actual airplane, her hands clutching a laminated safety demonstration card. The hum of the engines filled the cabin, a low, steady vibration that thrummed through her feet and echoed in her chest. The lighting overhead cast a warm glow, softening the sharp lines of the space and lending it a strangely intimate atmosphere.

You stood nearby, your posture relaxed but your gaze sharp, watching her every move with quiet intensity. Despite the weight of your presence, Haewon felt a thread of camaraderie growing between you, a subtle shift in the dynamic that had begun during the ground training. She could see it in the way your gaze softened when she stumbled slightly, and in the faint curl of your lips when she recovered with a self-deprecating joke.

The flight was already underway, the cabin filled with the faint murmur of passengers chatting, flipping through magazines, and settling into their seats. The scent of coffee brewing in the galley mingled with the sterile metallic tang of the recycled air, creating a distinct atmosphere unique to being miles above the earth.

Haewon stood near the forward galley, her hand resting lightly on the counter. She adjusted her uniform self-consciously, keenly aware of your steady presence just a few steps away.

“Ready for service?” you asked, your tone calm, with just enough of a challenge to make her lift her chin confidently.

“Born ready,” she quipped, grabbing a tray from the counter with a playful flourish. Her confidence faltered slightly when the tray shifted awkwardly in her hands, but she recovered quickly, shooting you a grin. “No big deal—I’ve got this.”

Your lips twitched in the faintest of smiles. “Let’s hope the passengers feel the same.”

Haewon stepped into the aisle, her posture straightening as she approached her first task: offering drinks and snacks to the passengers. The tray was heavier than she anticipated, the weight testing her balance as she maneuvered through the narrow space. Her heart beat a little faster when she caught you watching her, your gaze steady, assessing, and just a touch amused.

As she handed a cup of coffee to an elderly passenger, she glanced over her shoulder. “See? Flawless,” she said lightly, her grin widening.

“Not bad,” you replied, following her at a measured pace. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

“I’m more than getting the hang of it,” she retorted, her voice playful as she breezed past you to the next row. “I’m a natural.”

The subtle challenge in her tone drew a soft chuckle from you, though your expression remained composed. The exchange felt like a dance, her energy bouncing off your calm reserve in a way that kept her sharp and on edge.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you said, your voice low enough that only she could hear. “The day’s not over yet.”

By the time the aisle service was complete, Haewon’s steps carried a bit more confidence. She returned to the galley, her tray empty, and set it down with a triumphant flourish. “Mission accomplished,” she declared, turning to face you.

“You’ve done well,” you acknowledged, a note of approval in your tone that made her pulse quicken. “But the real test is consistency.”

“Oh, I’m all about consistency,” she replied, tilting her head challengingly. “Care to test me?”

Your gaze lingered on hers for a moment longer than necessary, the tension between you thickening with every second of silence. Just as the moment threatened to stretch into something unspoken, a chime from the cabin interrupted. You glanced away first, your professionalism snapping back into place like a shield.

“Passengers first,” you said, your tone lighter now, though the flicker of warmth in your eyes remained.

Haewon followed your lead for the rest of the flight, her confidence growing with every completed task. Yet, no matter how routine the work became, she couldn’t ignore the charged undercurrent in your interactions. Every time you brushed past her in the galley or caught her gaze across the cabin, her heart skipped a beat. The professionalism you maintained only heightened the tension, leaving her thoughts spinning and her pulse racing.

-----

As the plane leveled out and the hum of the engines steadied into a calm rhythm, the cabin lights softened, casting a warm, golden glow over the space. The passengers had settled into a quiet lull, the initial excitement of the flight giving way to a tranquil, almost meditative calm.

Haewon stood near the galley counter, her hands loosely gripping the edge as she exhaled, letting the whirlwind of the day finally catch up with her. Her body hummed with a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration, the tension of performing ebbing away to leave a buzz of satisfaction.

A few steps away, you leaned casually against the galley wall, your posture at ease but your gaze sharp, still assessing her as though the challenge hadn’t quite ended. The subtle intensity in your expression made her pulse quicken, though your silence carried no judgment—only a quiet, thoughtful admiration that sent her nerves fluttering.

“You did well,” you said finally, your voice low and steady, breaking the stillness like the first ripple in calm water. “Better than I expected.”

Her lips curved into a playful smile, the rare note of praise filling her with a quiet thrill. “Was there ever any doubt?” she teased, tilting her head as she leaned back slightly against the counter.

The faintest chuckle escaped you, soft and warm, like an echo of her own energy. “Maybe a little,” you admitted, the flicker of amusement in your expression lighting your features.

The honesty caught her off guard, her grin faltering for just a second before returning with a bolder edge. For a fleeting moment, the dynamic between you shifted, the playful air giving way to something deeper. Your expression softened, the lines of your usual composure blurring into something unguarded. The change drew her in, the hum of the plane fading into the background as the tension between you thickened—unspoken but palpable.

“You know,” she said, her voice light yet laced with teasing, “I think I’ve earned a little celebration for surviving my first day. Don’t you?”

Your brow arched slightly, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. “What kind of celebration are we talking about?”

Her response caught in her throat for a moment, and the faint heat that bloomed in her cheeks only added to the weight of her words when she finally spoke. “Something… exclusive,” she said, her voice steady but rich with a daring undertone.

The meaning behind her words hung in the air, unmistakable and electric. Your gaze deepened, amusement giving way to something more deliberate. You leaned in slightly, your voice dropping to a quiet murmur that seemed to wrap around her. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

Her heart thundered against her ribs, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she stepped closer, closing the space between you with a confidence that surprised even her. The smile on her lips grew, soft yet determined, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think I’ve been ready all day.”

For a moment, the cabin around you seemed to fade. The muted golden light cast soft shadows across your face, highlighting the quiet intensity in your gaze as you studied her. Neither of you moved, the charged silence between you tightening like a drawn bowstring.

Then, with deliberate calm, you extended your hand toward her. Your touch was firm yet gentle, grounding as you guided her away from the galley. She followed without hesitation, her pulse racing as you led her toward the back of the plane.

At the rear, you pushed open the small lavatory door, the soft creak of its hinges cutting through the hush. Your hand lingered at the small of her back as she stepped inside, the warmth of your touch sending a shiver up her spine. When the door clicked shut behind you, the energy that had simmered between you all day finally erupted.

The confined space sharpened every sensation—the soft rustle of fabric as you turned to face her, the faint scent of her perfume mingling with the sterile metallic air, the heat radiating from your bodies in the tight quarters. Her breath hitched as your eyes locked, the tension that had stretched between you snapping in an instant.

Your hands found her waist, pulling her to you as your lips claimed hers in a kiss that was both searing and deliberate. Her gasp was muffled against your mouth as her fingers threaded into your hair, drawing you closer. Her body arched into yours, every inch of her responding to the intensity of the moment.

Your lips trailed from hers to her neck, lingering along the sensitive skin as you placed slow, deliberate kisses. Each touch drew a shiver from her, her breath catching when your teeth grazed her pulse point. “Are you sure about this?” you murmured against her neck, your voice rough with restraint.

Her reply came shaky but resolute, her hands clutching your shoulders like an anchor. “I’ve never been more sure,” she whispered, her pulse hammering beneath your lips as she tilted her head to give you better access.

The cramped space seemed to vanish as the moment consumed you both, the world outside forgotten in the wake of the energy unleashed between you.

The space was impossibly small, the metallic walls almost brushing against your shoulders, and the occasional jolt of turbulence only heightened the intensity of the moment. The space smelled faintly of disinfectant, mingled with the subtle trace of Haewon’s perfume—a delicate floral scent that teased your senses.

As you leaned back slightly against the narrow counter, Haewon knelt before you, her movements deliberate, her gaze unwavering. Her eyes, dark and filled with a mix of longing and playful confidence, locked onto yours, and the weight of her focus sent a shiver down your spine. Her breath was steady but quickening, her lips parting slightly as she settled into position.

The rustle of fabric was almost deafening in the otherwise quiet space as you undid your belt, the metallic clink of the buckle punctuating the silence. Haewon’s hands moved lightly to your thighs, her touch sending an electric jolt through your skin. Her fingers curled slightly, their delicate pressure grounding you even as your pulse quickened.

Her lips parted with deliberate intent, her breath warm against your skin as she began, her tongue tracing the underside of your length in slow, purposeful strokes. The first touch sent a shiver through you, your breath catching as she took her time, savoring each movement. Her tongue flattened against you, the slick glide paired with soft, teasing flicks that made your pulse pound. The confined space seemed to amplify everything—the wet sound of her tongue, the low, needy hum vibrating in her throat, and the sharp inhale you couldn’t suppress as her mouth enveloped you.

She started with an almost agonizing slowness, her lips forming a tight seal as she slid over you, her cheeks hollowing slightly as she sucked with increasing intensity. Her tongue danced in deliberate patterns, tracing every vein and ridge as if committing them to memory. Each time she withdrew, she paused to press soft, open-mouthed kisses along your length, her lips lingering as if savoring your taste. The contrast between the wet heat of her mouth and the cool air when she pulled away only heightened your sensitivity.

Her arousal became evident as she worked, her thighs pressing together as if seeking friction, a faint sheen of moisture beginning to darken the fabric at the apex of her legs. She shifted slightly, her hips grinding subtly against the floor as if responding to the growing heat building within her. A quiet, breathy moan escaped her lips as she took you deeper, the vibration against your skin sending a wave of pleasure surging through you.

Haewon’s movements became more confident, more urgent, her lips sliding over you with a rhythm that left no room for hesitation. She adjusted herself, her knees pressing firmly into the floor as her fingers dug into your thighs, holding you steady. Each time she took you into her throat, her muscles relaxed just enough to accommodate you, her moans growing louder as her arousal deepened. The faint scent of her arousal mixed with the confined air, a subtle but intoxicating reminder of how much she was enjoying this.

She pulled back slightly, her tongue flicking against your sensitive tip before she plunged forward again, her pace quickening. Her movements were fluid yet hungry, her cheeks flushed with exertion and desire. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple, catching the dim light, her effort and arousal written across every inch of her face. Her thighs shifted again, the friction of her movements drawing faint, involuntary gasps from her lips. You could see the way her body responded, her nipples pressing against her shirt, and the faint wetness between her legs growing more pronounced with each passing moment.

Reaching down, you tangled your fingers in her hair, guiding her rhythm as she moaned around you, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure racing through your body. She glanced up, her eyes glassy with desire, locking with yours as her lips stretched around you. That single look—filled with submission, need, and the unmistakable hunger to please—nearly undid you. Her mouth worked with a relentless precision, her tongue swirling in ways that left you gasping, her moans becoming increasingly desperate as if her own pleasure was tied to yours.

Her free hand slid up her own thigh, disappearing beneath the fabric of her shorts. You could see the subtle movement as her fingers pressed against herself, her hips rolling slightly to meet her touch. The sight of her pleasuring herself while her mouth remained focused on you sent a fresh wave of heat surging through your core. Her moans grew louder, muffled by your length, the vibrations intensifying as she worked herself closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Haewon,” you groaned, your voice thick with desire. She responded by taking you deeper, her throat relaxing as she let out a low, guttural moan that sent your head spinning. The slick heat of her mouth combined with the knowledge of her growing arousal pushed you closer to your breaking point.

As you felt the tension cresting, you tugged her hair gently, guiding her upward. Her lips released you with a wet, lewd pop, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen and glistening, and her eyes dark with lust. Her thighs pressed tightly together, her arousal evident in the way her breath hitched, the damp spot on her shorts impossible to miss as she rose to her feet.

You tilted her chin upward, your thumb brushing along her jawline as you gazed into her eyes. “You’re fucking perfect,” you murmured, your voice thick with need. Her lips parted, her breath quick and shallow, as she leaned into you. The heat radiating from her skin matched your own as you claimed her mouth in a searing kiss, your hands sliding down to grip her hips, pulling her flush against you.

Haewon’s breaths came faster now, shallow and uneven, her flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips betraying the storm of emotions building within her. The vibrations of the plane beneath your feet, steady and unrelenting, seemed to mirror the pulse racing through her body, each tremor adding fuel to the fire already burning between you.

As you lifted her onto the counter, her body trembled beneath your touch. Her thighs pressed against your hips, her wet heat already evident even through the thin layers of clothing. The way her legs instinctively wrapped around your waist made your heart pound harder. Her hands gripped your shoulders for support, her fingertips digging into your skin as though anchoring herself to you. Her chest rose and fell in uneven rhythms, her breath catching with every soft, involuntary sound that escaped her lips.

Her arousal was undeniable in every movement, every soft gasp and whimper filling the small space. Her hips shifted forward to meet yours, the friction building with every press of her body against yours. The scent of her, faintly sweet and musky, mingled with the sterile air of the lavatory, creating a heady atmosphere that heightened your senses.

When your hand slid beneath her skirt, brushing against the damp heat of her panties, her body jolted at the contact. She let out a shaky moan, her hips arching instinctively to press herself closer to your touch. Her wetness had already soaked through the fabric, clinging to her folds, and as you slid the thin material aside, your fingers were met with slick, yielding warmth. “Please,” she gasped, her voice trembling, her thighs quivering around you as you teased her.

You lined yourself up, the heat of her body radiating against you as you pressed the tip of your length against her entrance. Her breath hitched sharply, her nails digging into your shoulders as she gazed into your eyes. There was a flicker of vulnerability in her expression, one that gave you pause, but when she nodded, her lips parting to whisper, “I want this,” it was all the reassurance you needed. Slowly, carefully, you began to press into her.

Her body was tight—almost unbearably so—and the resistance you felt made you move even slower, your hips advancing inch by inch. Haewon’s lips trembled as her hands clutched at your back, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. “You’re so tight,” you murmured, your voice soft as you paused, letting her adjust to the intrusion. She nodded faintly, her eyes fluttering closed as you sank a little deeper, her slick heat enveloping you inch by inch.

Just as you were making progress sheathing yourself inside her, the plane lurched violently, a sudden jolt of turbulence rocking the small room. The unexpected motion drove you completely into her, the force of it pushing past the last barrier. Haewon cried out sharply, her back arching as her hands flew to your shoulders, gripping you tightly. Her cry wasn’t just from pleasure but something deeper, more visceral. You froze immediately, your heart pounding as you registered the slight quiver in her body.

Something felt different—there was a heat, a tightness, an overwhelming sense of newness that struck you all at once. When you pulled back slightly, you caught a glimpse of a faint sheen of blood on yourself. Your eyes widened in shock, and you instinctively met her gaze. Tears shimmered in her eyes, from pain and something softer, more emotional. “Haewon…” you murmured, your voice trembling slightly. “Are you… were you a virgin?”

She bit her lip, her cheeks flushed as she nodded, her thighs still trembling against you. “Yes,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But… It's okay. I wanted this. I wanted you.” Her words were firm despite the tears in her eyes, her expression filled with trust and desire. “I knew it would hurt a little, but I didn’t care. I wanted you to be my first.”

Her confession hit you like a wave, a mix of emotions flooding through you—pride, awe, and a deep, possessive protectiveness. “Are you sure?” you asked, brushing a hand along her cheek, your thumb wiping away a stray tear. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She smiled faintly, her hands reaching up to cradle your face. “You’re not hurting me,” she said softly. “I’ve never wanted anything more. Please… don’t stop.”

Her reassurance steadied you, her soft, trusting smile anchoring you in the moment. You leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was slow but deeply charged, your tongue brushing against hers in a rhythm that matched the gentle rocking of her hips. Her breath hitched as you trailed kisses down her jawline, your lips mapping the contours of her skin with deliberate precision. When you reached her neck, you paused, your breath warm against her pulse point, feeling the rapid flutter beneath her skin.

Your teeth grazed the delicate flesh there, and she let out a soft, startled gasp, her hips pressing forward as though urging you on. You closed your lips around the spot, sucking gently, your tongue soothing the faint sting as your teeth pressed into her again, deeper this time. Her fingers tightened in your hair, her quiet whimper sending a jolt of heat straight through you. The small bruise that bloomed against her skin was a mark meant only for the two of you, a memory hidden in plain sight.

She shifted against you as your lips moved lower, trailing across the sensitive curve of her neck. Each press of your mouth drew a soft moan from her lips, her body responding instinctively to your touch. The marks you left were subtle but unmistakable, scattered along the line of her neck with care, the kind of marks that would be easy to conceal yet impossible to forget. She shivered beneath your touch, her skin warm and slightly damp, her arousal palpable in every movement.

“Hold me,” she gasped suddenly, her voice raw and trembling with need. Her arms wrapped tightly around your neck, pulling you closer as her fingers tangled in your hair, gripping you as though she couldn’t bear to let go. The way she clung to you, her nails digging gently into your scalp, sent a wave of possessive desire surging through you.

Her hips began to move with more urgency, grinding against you with an unrestrained eagerness that left you teetering on the edge of control. Each thrust drew her closer, her moans growing louder as the rhythm between you became chaotic, driven by both the unpredictable sway of the plane and the unrelenting heat building between you. Her breath mingled with yours, her cries becoming softer, more desperate, her body melting into yours as she surrendered to the moment completely.

The sensation of her trembling against you, the heat radiating from her skin, and the intimacy of the marks left on her neck—all of it combined to push the tension higher, until every movement felt like a tidal wave, crashing through both of you.

Just as her moans reached a fever pitch, a loud knock on the lavatory door broke through the haze. “Is everything alright in there?” came a muffled voice from outside.

The sudden interruption sent a shock through both of you, and Haewon’s eyes snapped open, wide with surprise. The tension in her body, already at its peak, pushed her over the edge. Her inner walls clenched around you violently, her body trembling as the rush of adrenaline mingled with the overwhelming pleasure. “Oh god,” she whimpered, her voice breaking as her head fell back against the wall, her lips parting in a strangled cry.

Her release was sudden and explosive, her moans rising uncontrollably as her entire body shook. “I can’t… it’s too much,” she gasped, her nails raking down your back as her hips bucked against yours. The act of nearly being caught seemed to strip away the last of her restraint, her climax crashing over her with unrelenting intensity. Her wetness flooded over you, her thighs tightening around your waist as she rode out the waves of her release.

“Occupied!” you barked, your voice rough and commanding, echoing in the small space. The sound of it seemed to ripple through Haewon, her body jolting at the force of your tone. Her legs locked tighter around you, her inner walls fluttering as the vibrations of the plane and the moment’s urgency drove her deeper into ecstasy.

Her eyes met yours, glazed with pleasure and slightly dazed, her lips trembling as she tried to catch her breath. “I… I can’t,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. The sight of her—flushed, trembling, her neck marked with faint hickeys, her body still quaking with aftershocks—was enough to push you past the brink. Your thrusts became erratic, each movement driven by instinct as you chased your release. A guttural groan tore from your chest as you buried yourself deeply inside her, your climax hitting with a force that left you shaking.

The warmth of your release filled her, the intimacy of the moment heightened by the chaotic rhythm that had brought you both to this point. Your breaths mingled, the two of you clinging to each other in the aftermath, your bodies still pressed together as the world outside seemed to fade away.

The plane seemed to hum in harmony with the beating of your hearts as you held her close, your forehead resting against hers. The world outside the door ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you in the aftermath of your passion. Haewon’s breathing was still uneven, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly swollen from the force of your kiss. Her hands slid up to cup your face, her eyes searching yours as a lazy, satisfied smile played on her lips.

You stayed like that for a moment, savoring the closeness, the intimacy of being completely wrapped up in each other. Outside, the distant murmur of passengers and the steady hum of the engines reminded you that the world hadn’t stopped for your moment, but inside the small lavatory, it felt like time had paused just for the two of you.

For a moment, neither of you moved, your bodies pressed tightly together as you caught your breath. The confined lavatory felt even smaller in the aftermath, the walls seeming to hum with the warmth of your shared passion. Slowly, you pulled back, your hands still resting on her waist as she leaned against the wall, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

Your eyes softened as you took her in—her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, her lips swollen and glistening, and her hair slightly tousled. She looked utterly radiant, the glow of satisfaction mingling with a soft vulnerability in her expression.

“You okay?” you asked gently, your voice low and filled with concern, though the satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth betrayed your lingering exhilaration.

Haewon nodded, her lips curling into a lazy, blissful smile. “More than okay,” she whispered, her voice still breathless and soft, tinged with the lingering traces of pleasure. Her legs trembled slightly as she shifted, her body still adjusting to the aftermath of what had just transpired.

As her gaze dropped briefly, you reached up, your fingers gently brushing a few strands of her tousled hair away from her face. The gesture was soft and unhurried, your touch lingering as you tucked the wayward strands neatly behind her ear. Haewon’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and when they opened again, they were filled with something deeper—an affectionate warmth that made her cheeks flush anew.

A small, shy smile tugged at her lips, and she couldn’t help but whisper, “You’re so gentle.” Her voice was soft, barely audible over the low hum of the plane’s engines.

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, your lips lingering there as if to seal the quiet moment between you. “Only with you,” you murmured, your voice low and filled with meaning.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment longer, her hands resting lightly against your chest as she savored the intimacy of your touch. But as the seconds ticked by, her gaze flicked to the small mirror on the wall, and her expression shifted. “Oh my god,” she whispered, her hand flying to her neck as she caught sight of the faint bruises left by your lips. “Are those…?”

You followed her gaze, your eyes catching the small, dark marks scattered along the curve of her neck. Her cheeks turned crimson, and her hand trembled as she traced the marks. “People will see,” she muttered, her voice rising in a soft panic. “What am I going to do? I can’t—”

“Haewon,” you interrupted softly, your hands coming to rest on her shoulders. “It’s okay. Look at me.” She hesitated, her breathing uneven, but when her eyes met yours, the panic began to ebb. “I’ll fix it. Trust me.”

You glanced toward her flight attendant scarf, folded neatly on the small counter. Picking it up, you unfolded it carefully and turned back to her. “Here,” you said gently, moving to drape it around her neck. Her eyes widened slightly as your hands brushed against her skin, adjusting the fabric with deliberate care. You knotted it carefully, the silk falling into place perfectly.

“There,” you murmured, stepping back slightly. “No one will know.”

She turned toward the mirror, her fingers brushing against the scarf as she inspected it. The marks were completely hidden, and she let out a soft, relieved breath. “Thank you,” she said quietly, turning back to face you. Her voice was filled with gratitude, but there was still a hint of vulnerability in her eyes.

You reached out, brushing your fingers along her jaw, your touch light and reassuring. “You don’t have to thank me,” you said softly, your voice warm but tinged with something more serious. “But, Haewon… earlier…” You hesitated for a moment, searching her gaze. “I didn’t know it was your first time.”

She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing deeper as her eyes dropped briefly before meeting yours again. “I know,” she admitted softly. “I didn’t tell you because… I didn’t want it to change anything.” Her voice wavered for a moment, but she steadied herself, her gaze unwavering. “I wanted this. I wanted you.”

Her words hit you hard, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest—pride, awe, and an overwhelming protectiveness. “Are you sure?” you asked gently, your thumb brushing against the side of her face. “I just… I don’t want you to regret this. Not here, not like this.”

Her lips curved into a faint, reassuring smile as she shook her head. “I won’t,” she said firmly, her voice soft but resolute. “I knew what I was doing. I wanted this moment with you. And I don’t regret it. Not for a second.”

Her sincerity left you momentarily speechless, the weight of her words settling deep in your chest. You didn’t respond with words. Instead, you leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was tender and deliberate, lacking the earlier urgency but brimming with something far deeper. Her lips parted softly beneath yours, and when you pulled back, you rested your forehead against hers, your hands steadying her trembling frame.

Her brows furrowed suddenly, and she crouched slightly, glancing around the cramped lavatory. “Wait…” she muttered, her voice tinged with embarrassment as her hands brushed over the floor and edges of the counter. “Where are my panties?”

You leaned back against the door, crossing your arms with a teasing smirk. “How could you lose that?” you asked, your voice playful but low, watching her as she searched.

Haewon shot you a quick glare, her cheeks burning brighter. “They were here! They couldn’t have just disappeared!” Her tone was exasperated but softened by the lingering flush of earlier.

Her hands continued to skim over the limited space, but after another minute, it was clear they were gone—lost somewhere in the heat of your earlier passion. A nervous laugh bubbled up from her as she stood, smoothing her skirt down again. Her hands paused against the fabric as she realized there was no time to keep searching.

“I guess I’m going without them,” she admitted in a quiet voice, her cheeks glowing as she avoided your gaze. The mix of embarrassment and exhilaration in her expression made you grin.

“You’ll be fine,” you reassured her, your tone warm but teasing as you placed your hands on her arms. “Besides,” you added with a smirk, “it’ll be our little secret.”

Haewon rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips. She adjusted her hair again with a shaky hand, though your earlier touch had already smoothed it into place. Her eyes flicked toward the door, her nervous energy returning as she cracked it open.

Just as she was about to step out, she hesitated, turning back toward you. Her cheeks flushed deeper, her lips curving into a shy, almost hesitant smile. You reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before leaning in to press a quick but tender kiss to her lips. It was brief, yet filled with warmth and reassurance, a silent promise that lingered as her lips parted slightly beneath yours.

When you pulled back, her eyes softened, the nervous energy in her frame easing slightly. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice quiet and filled with meaning.

“Always,” you replied just as softly, your hand brushing against her arm before she turned back toward the door.

She peeked out, glancing left and right to ensure the coast was clear, before stepping out into the aisle. Her stride was careful and measured, though her legs still trembled slightly beneath the polished professionalism of her steps. Her face was flushed, her hair still slightly a mess despite your attempts to fix it, and her lips retained the faint swelling of your kisses. Beneath her composed demeanor, the absence of her panties and the slickness between her thighs teased her with every step, a constant reminder of the intimacy you’d just shared.

You lingered for a moment, adjusting your cuffs and belt before stepping into the aisle yourself. Your gaze immediately sought Haewon, who was already walking ahead with a subtle confidence that belied the faint tremor in her legs. Her eyes met yours for the briefest of moments, a knowing spark passing between you that only deepened the warmth lingering in your chest.

As you resume your duties, the hum of the cabin returns to fill the air, but the quiet connection between you remains, a secret woven into the fabric of your stolen moment in the skies.

-----

After the plane had landed, Haewon moved to her place by the exit, ready to thank the passengers as they deplaned. It was a routine she had done countless times before—bowing, offering polite words, and smiling—but today, every movement carried an undercurrent of thrill. With each graceful bow, she became acutely aware of the warmth between her thighs, the undeniable sensation of your essence still inside her. Each slight pull of gravity as she bent forward sent a slick, teasing reminder of your earlier passion, and she fought to keep her expression neutral.

The sensation was impossible to ignore. As she straightened each time, she could feel it shift within her, threatening to escape, a subtle but constant tease that made her cheeks flush and her steps slightly more measured. The absence of her panties only heightened the awareness, the cool air beneath her skirt brushing against her skin, amplifying the delicious sense of exposure.

Each “thank you” and polite smile was laced with the secret she carried—the memory of your hands gripping her waist, your lips trailing over her neck, the way her body had clung to yours in the cramped lavatory. Her heart raced as the passengers filed past, oblivious to the intimate connection she now carried. The sensation of your lingering presence made her hyper-aware of every subtle shift in her body, each movement a vivid reminder of what had transpired.

Finally, the last passenger stepped off the plane, leaving the cabin quiet save for the soft shuffle of the crew tidying up. Haewon exhaled deeply, a faint sheen of sweat glistening at her brow as she leaned briefly against the wall to steady herself. Her knees still felt weak, her legs trembling slightly beneath her polished composure. She pressed her thighs together, trying in vain to quell the sensation that only seemed to grow stronger in the silence.

You approached her then, your expression calm and professional as always, though the teasing glint in your eyes spoke volumes. As you drew nearer, Haewon’s breath hitched slightly, her body betraying her despite her best efforts to appear composed. The memory of your touch, of the closeness you had shared, was written in every glance, every subtle tilt of your head.

“You did great,” you murmured, your voice pitched low, meant only for her. The rich timbre of it sent a fresh shiver coursing through her. “Though I couldn’t help but notice that extra sway in your step.”

She turned to you with a playful smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief despite the warmth creeping into her cheeks. “It’s a bit hard to focus,” she replied, her tone laced with sultry teasing, “when I’m walking around with a little… souvenir from my favorite instructor.”

Your grin deepened, the heat behind your gaze barely masked by your composure. Leaning in slightly, your breath ghosted over her ear, warm and intoxicating. “You’ll have to come back for more lessons sometime,” you whispered, your words curling through her like a spark igniting.

“Oh, I plan to,” she said smoothly, her voice steady despite the fluttering excitement in her chest. Turning away, her hips swayed ever so slightly, a calculated movement that let you know she was fully aware of your lingering gaze.

The conclusion of the episode approached, and Haewon effortlessly shifted back into her on-camera persona. Her radiant smile lit up the space as the crew positioned the camera for her signature closing moment. It was time for her to receive her payment for completing the challenge.

You stepped into frame, handing her a sleek black envelope. The thick paper was cool against her fingers, and as they brushed yours in a fleeting but electric touch, her pulse quickened. Your eyes locked with hers briefly, and the subtle curve of your lips—a barely-there smile—made her heart skip a beat. It was a silent reminder of the secret only the two of you shared.

Turning to the camera with her usual playful grin, Haewon slipped her fingers into the envelope, preparing to retrieve her reward. But as her hand delved inside, her breath caught for just a fraction of a second. Alongside the crisp weight of folded bills was something soft and unmistakable: her panties. Still damp, intimate, and undeniably deliberate.

As she pulled the panties slightly closer, the faint but unmistakable scent of the money mingled with hers, wafting subtly into her senses. The blend of clean linen bills and the warm, musky reminder of her own arousal sent a fresh wave of heat racing through her. Her eyes flicked briefly toward you, catching the faintest curve of your lips, the smallest glint of mischief in your gaze.

She noticed, stuck to the crotch of the fabric, a small sticky note that had absorbed some of her arousal. The faint ink of your handwriting was still visible, the note bearing nothing more than your phone number. Her cheeks flushed deeper, the intimate touch making her heart race, though her composure didn’t falter. With a practiced ease, she slipped the envelope—and its contents—into her pocket, her movements fluid and confident.

“Well, this was definitely the most fun I’ve ever had earning my paycheck,” she quipped to the camera, her voice steady even as her pulse raced.

The crew chuckled at her lighthearted remark, none the wiser to the true weight of her words. She turned back to the camera for her final moment, flashing a grin that was equal parts charm and mischief. “Looks like I’ve learned more than just safety procedures on this flight,” she said with a laugh, her delivery flawless, leaving the audience to wonder what secrets lay behind her words.

As the crew called a wrap, Haewon turned, stepping gracefully down the aisle and off the plane. Her pace was poised, her smile intact, but inside, her mind was a whirlwind. Every subtle movement reminded her of your hands, your breath, and the fire that had burned between you in the cramped lavatory.

Each step was a vivid reminder, the absence of her panties adding to the thrill as the sensation of your essence still inside her teased her with every bow and motion. She could feel it shift subtly, a lingering heat that made her cheeks burn and her chest tighten with the memory of your closeness.

As she descended the jet bridge, she slipped her hand into her pocket, her fingers brushing against the damp fabric tucked alongside the envelope. Her fingertips grazed the sticky note, the faint smudges of her arousal making it more intimate than you likely intended. A rush of heat coursed through her at the tangible proof of your connection. She withdrew her hand, carefully adjusting her uniform as she glanced around to ensure no one was watching.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted you off-camera, leaning casually against the cabin doorway. Your calm demeanor belied the glint of mischief in your gaze. When her eyes met yours, you gave her a subtle wink—a fleeting gesture that sent her heart racing all over again.

Once she was alone in a quiet corner of the terminal, Haewon exhaled deeply, her thoughts still spinning from everything that had happened. She glanced around to ensure she had privacy before stepping into a staff lounge to change out of her uniform.

Peeling off the polished exterior of her flight attendant persona, she let the neatly pressed pieces fall away, leaving her bare under the soft light of the room. Her reflection in the mirror caught her eye, her cheeks still flushed, her hair slightly tousled. As she stared at herself, a glimmer of boldness sparked in her mind, her heart pounding at the thought that took hold.

Her fingers brushed over the scarf that still hung around her neck, the same one you had adjusted for her earlier. Loosening it slightly, she let the ends drape down over her chest, framing her bare skin in a way that felt both daring and intimate. The soft fabric teased the curves of her breasts and the line of her hips. The undone scarf added an air of playful confidence, the perfect balance of teasing and boldness.

Reaching for her phone, she pulled out the sticky note with your number, her lips curving into a small smile. Entering the digits carefully, she paused for a moment, considering what to name the contact. After a brief flicker of thought, she added: ✈️🥵.

Lifting her phone, she angled herself in the mirror, capturing every detail. The undone scarf hung loosely on both sides of her neck, framing the faint marks you’d left on her delicate skin. Her bare shoulders, the curve of her waist, and the contours of her breasts and lower section were bathed in the soft light of the room. Her expression tied it all together—a sultry, mischievous smile, her gaze filled with an undeniable spark of boldness.

Her heart raced as she typed out a message.

See you soon

She hit send and let the thrill of what she’d done wash over her. With a deep breath, she reached for a soft hoodie from her bag. Pulling it over her head, she felt the fabric settle against her skin. Tugging the hood up, she let it fall around her face, a subtle shield for the marks on her neck.

Satisfied that her secret was safely hidden, she took one last look in the mirror. Her reflection, now casual and relaxed, masked the fire still smoldering beneath the surface.

As she stepped out of the lounge, her strides were steady, every step carrying a sense of empowerment. When she exited into the warm afternoon air, she smiled to herself. The message had been sent, the connection made. Whatever came next, she was ready.

[crushmeeren]

Hi, I know you aren’t taking requests right now but I didn’t want to forget it so I’m sending it now for Whenever you open request again.

How do you think the MHA boys would react to your new mom body and “you” being unsure about it. If can be fluffy and/or NSFW

Thank you! 🙂

hi anonnie! sorry for leaving this in my inbox for so long, kinktober was a BITCH. anywho, hope you enjoy and that I included the characters you wanted!

master list link

༝ ᭝ ༝ katsuki ༝ ᭝ ༝

Katsuki’s tired. His bones ache with exhaustion, and he wears dark, bruise like marks underneath his eyes that seem to weigh a thousand pounds. The bright light of his phone screen burns his eyes when he checks for the time.

03:30 a.m.

Katsuki moves gently as he sways back and forth in the rocking chair, his three month old furnace of a son snoozing peacefully on his chest. Finally.

One hand rubs up and down his baby’s back, the other arm supporting his butt. His son babbles softly in his sleep, and Katsuki tilts his head to press a kiss to soft wisps of blonde hair, lingering to deeply inhale the scent of new baby and lavender lotion. Red eyes start to droop, the flutter of his son’s heartbeat and his constant warmth lulling Katsuki to sleep.

His head jerks up with a start, desperately trying to stay awake, and so he rises to his feet, sweatpants falling a bit lower on his hips. With a quietness he’s never possessed before, Katsuki delicately lays his baby down without waking him. He pauses in the doorway, smiling tenderly in the direction of the crib before padding to your bedroom.

Katsuki’s ears perk when muffled sniffling greets him. Alarm bells ring in his head and he all but leaps into the bed, yanking the covers down to stare at you with wide eyes. The soft light of your bedside lamp exposes your tear stricken cheeks.

His stomach drops and then he’s crowding you, shoving himself into your personal space. “Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” He asks gingerly, brows furrowing as stretches his tank top to wipe your tears away.

Your lower lip wobbles when you bite down on it, and you launch yourself into Katsuki’s chest, knocking him onto his back with an “oof.” You shove your face into the side of his throat, arms curling as you cling to him.

“I can’t stand the way I look!” You sob, lips tickling his skin as you speak. Katsuki wraps you up in a tight hug, heart continuously splintering with each one of your labored sobs. “I love our son, so much, but looking in the mirror hurts.”

“Oh baby.” Katsuki’s voice cracks, firm hands framing your wet cheeks and guiding you to your elbows. He needs you to see the serious look his eyes. “Change is hard, but change is so fuckin’ good. You may not look exactly the same as before, but there’s not a damn thing wrong with that. You created our fuckin’ son. There’s nothin’ more beautiful to me in this world than that.” There are stars in his eyes as he gazes at you, cementing his belief in his own words.

Your expression crumples and you collapse onto his chest, soaking his shirt in tears as you hug him. “You promise?” You sniffle, tone a bit more hopeful than before.

“I swear on my fuckin’ life.” Katsuki secures you in his hold and rolls the two of you, hovering on one elbow as he pushes loose hair off your forehead. “Please, will you let me show you?”

The flush on your face forces a familiar honeyed heat to pool low in Katsuki’s belly, your sheepish nod all the permission he needs.

You gasp softly when his fingers slip your panties to the side, fingers barely touching your clit. It’s effortless for him to fill you completely with his thick cock, to press sweet words into your throat as he makes love to you. His chest is sticky with sweat, and you can’t get enough of the way he whines high pitched each time your pleasure overwhelms you and your pussy squeezes him.

Katsuki quite literally shows you how beautiful you are to him, and when you’re cradled on his chest afterwards, you start to believe that you are.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

༝ ᭝ ༝ shouto ༝ ᭝ ༝

“Will you shower with me?”

The lingering memories of warm water raining down on his skin, steam curling up into the air and your naked body run across Shouto’s mind. You raise an eyebrow in return, lifting your daughter from her high chair when she reaches for you.

“I don’t know, Sho.” Your gaze flickers to the side, avoiding direct eye contact. Shouto’s brows pinch together, frowning at your uncharacteristically shy response.

“Why?” It’s been ages since you’ve showered together. Since you’ve had sex, really. Not that he’s upset, he’s enamored with your daughter, but he misses you. A lot.

“I just don’t want to,” you say sharply, turning your back to him and walking towards your kitchen sink. Your tone doesn’t sit well with Shouto and he follows after you. He places a hand on your shoulder, hurt welling in his chest when you stiffen at his touch.

He lets his hand fall limply to his side. “Please, tell me what’s wrong. I want to understand.”

You sigh almost imperceptibly, slowly shifting to face him, and you hike your daughter further up on your hip. She giggles when she spots her daddy, little hands grabbing for him, and Shouto scoops her up with a loving smile.

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” you mutter, eyes trained on the back of your daughter’s head, softly brushing white hair behind her ears.

Shouto blinks a few times. “What do you mean?”

“You know, with the hideous scars and all.”

“Oh.” The silence is deafening. You freeze, eyes widening as your head snaps upwards with a horrified expression. Your jaw opens and closes as you clutch his forearm in a death grip.

“Sho, no — wait, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry—,”

“Do you believe that I’m ugly? Even with my scar?” He asks, not unkindly.

You shake your head vigorously. “No, of course not! I think you’re beautiful the way you are.”

Shouto hums, hugging your daughter tightly to his chest. She grabs his shoulders, nuzzling her face into his neck. “So what leads you to believe it’s any different for me?”

“I didn’t think of it that way,” you admit, shrugging lamely, unable to come up with an answer. Shouto wordlessly laces his free hand with yours, and after settling your baby down for the night, he ushers you to your bathroom.

There’s no need to speak when Shouto helps you strip out of your clothes, goosebumps littering your arms when the fingertips of his left hand chill involuntarily and tickle your ribs. He’s bare within the minute, leading you under the hot spray of water in the next.

Shouto walks you backwards and presses you to the cool tile of the wall, steam circling upwards and suffocating the two of you. You grasp at his slippery shoulders, tilting your head while he leaves biting kisses along your throat. Shouto traces the c-section scar along your belly as if it���s something precious, touch featherlight before guiding you to flip and brace your hands on the wall.

The initial stretch of his cock sends a shiver of heat down your spine. The humid atmosphere making everything that much slicker, that much hotter. He places his hands over your scar to steady himself and holds you close, rolling his hips steadily until you’re crying his name and pushing at his belly because it’s too much.

Shouto’s determined to show you everyday that scars are to be cherished. They’re apart of you, and not a single inch of you could ever be ugly to him.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

༝ ᭝ ༝ eijirou ༝ ᭝ ༝

It’s date night, and your fingers twitch with nerves as you finish putting up your hair. The two of you haven’t been able to go out alone for the past several months. Having a new baby is ruthless. It’s not for the weak, but you love every second of it, and you’re certain Eijirou does too.

It’s just…. You look different, now. Your body’s shifted and changed in ways you never imagined, but you wouldn’t trade your son for the world. It’s just taking more time than you expected to get adjusted in your new body.

Eijirou’s bright voice echoes in the living room, and your son’s echoing delighted peal of laughter warms your chest. With a defeated sigh, you glance at yourself in the mirror and smooth your hands over your stomach, tugging at your shirt.

Eijirou calls out to you and you tell him you’re ready, slipping on your shoes and mustering up enough fake confidence to fool your husband for the evening. When you round the corner, he’s pretending to toss your son up into the air, little happy squeals filling the air. You lock eyes with your husband and genuinely smile, halting next to them and kissing your baby all over his face.

Eijirou kisses him too, reluctantly handing him over to his mother, who graciously volunteered to be on babysitting duty for the night. Once you’re out, Eijirou’s positive energy is infectious, fueling all of his actions and tainting yours too.

Still, a voice in the back of your mind nags at you about your appearance, and gradually your demeanor wilts. Eijirou notices, but he tries to lift your spirits anyways, wanting to save the serious conversation for when you get home. He wants you to enjoy yourself for the time being.

Eijirou gives you space when you return home. He gives you space when you bid his mother goodbye and when you put your son down for the night.

But as soon as you’re alone, Eijirou’s holding your hands and walking backwards until he lands on the edge of the bed, guiding you to sit in his lap and straddle his thighs. He stares up at you, settling his hands on your hips with a puzzled look.

“What’s on your mind my love? You seemed distracted tonight.” He squeezes your hips encouragingly. You purse your lips together, squeezing your eyes shut in the face of your self loathing as you confess how you’ve been feeling.

“So yeah, it’s just been a struggle recently. I’m worried you won’t love me the same because of how different I look now.” You bite the inside of your lip, waiting on edge for his response.

“Look at me,” he demands, gentle yet firm, as always. Your eyes flash open and he places a large hand on your cheek. “Sweetheart, you’ve changed multiple times since we’ve met, and I’ve only ever thought you’ve gotten more beautiful. It’s no different this time. Your feelings are valid of course, but just know you’ve always been, and always will be, the stunning woman I fell in love with. Until death do us part, right?”

You’re can’t be held responsible for the bruising kiss you startle him with. Warm lips and the faint hint of Eijirou’s cologne filling your head with cotton and making your heart thunder. Actions mean more than words, and your husband demonstrates the truth of that statement.

He manhandles you to the side of your bed where a mirror rests on the wall across from you, bending you into some half form of a full Nelson to force you into a front row seat of your pussy swallowing his cock. Eijirou hooks his chin over your shoulder and the heat in his eyes burns you alive. He whispers filthy praise into your ear, sending you over the edge in record time.

Eijirou will remind you of your beauty each day for the rest of your lives, if that’s what it takes.

[stove-top96]

Wicked Game

Ch. 01

Y Batfam x GN Reader

Featuring: Platonic Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Stephane Brown, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain, Damian Al-Ghul Wayne.

1.9k words

Prologue <- Ch. 01 -> Ch. 02

Class schedule

1st period - Art

2nd Period - Maths

12:00 - 1:00: Lunch

3rd period - Biology

4th period - English

( 5:00 -> Basketball game)

<Y/N>

Cool, I’ll see you tomorrow then.

Tim stared down at his phone, unable to look away. you were just so cute.

He replayed your conversation in his head—every glance, every word, the way you copied his notes—over and over again. The fact that you were his partner? It was perfect. It practically accelerated their plans 10x.

His grip on the phone tightened. Giddy smile creeping on his face. He wanted to keep texting with you, but knew he couldn’t. He needed to be careful.

”What is so important that it is keeping you from your responsibilities?”

Tim rolled his eyes.

Damian. Snarky as ever, standing by the bat computer with the same judgemental expression he always had. He’s been pressing for updates nonstop, and throwing snide remarks whenever possible.Tim wanted to tell the family about the ‘new development’ right away, but Damian’s constant questioning made him hold off.

It’d be easier just to tell everyone on patrol. Dick would be in the city tonight, anyway. He’ll tell the whole family once everyone’s together.

Sure it’s a little selfish, but he’s not keeping it a secret forever, only a few hours.

It takes all his strength to put his phone away and get prepared for patrol. Excitement coarsening through his veins.

Damian Just scoffed and turned away in disgust.

Patrol is expected to go by without a hitch. Most of Gotham’s rogues are locked up in Arkham. The streets will be relatively quiet. Couple of rookies tonight at best. It'll be a breeze tonight.

But Tim wouldn't be able to focus tonight, not fully. His mind would be too preoccupied.

“Red Robin, Nightwing. There’s a bank robbery 3 blocks north”

Oracles' words snapped Tim back to reality. He was thinking about you again.

“On it” Nightwing spoke into the coms. Leaping off the Roof with an effortless grace making his way over. Tim was quick to follow, pushing down all thoughts of you.

“5 individuals, all armed… Be careful” Oracles voice echoed through the coms.

“Nothing we’ve never handled”

watching from the rooftop opposite of Westwood Bank, it was obvious these men were amateurs.

One was fumbling with the alarm system, cursing under his breath. Another was banging on the register, trying to force it open. The other 3 were likely in the back fumbling through the more valuable vaults.

It was very sloppy and clearly unplanned. Easy.

“Whoever takes down the most wins.” Dick smirked. The only way they’d be able to get any type of entertainment out of this was to make a game of it.

“Sure” Tim didn’t really care to win or lose but he’d figure he might as well humour Dick. It’ll make it go by quicker.

Busting through the window of the building, glass shattering in a hundred pieces. The men were slow to react, before they could even raise their guns. Dick and Tim’s batarang sliced through the air, disarming them with a clank.

The noise sent the other three into a panic. Two of them raced in guns blazing. They were clearly rushed, aim painfully sloppy.

Shots fired throughout the building, ricocheting off the walls. Dick was quick to throw one of his escrima sticks, CRACK. He knocked the smaller one out.

The bigger one hesitated for half a second, more than enough time for Tim. One swing of his Boa-staff and he was out.

Tim took a deep breath. Standing tall over the man, pride swelling in his chest. He took the biggest guy in one swing. His mind flickered back to you. What would you think of that? Would you be impressed? Tell him good job?

“TIM LOOK OU—“

Dick’s warning barely registered. Before he could even turn around.

BANG.

A noxious sting rang through his side. The impact sent him crashing to the floor.

The force left him winded. He knew his suit was bullet proof, but the pain was unbearable, a sharp fiery burn in his ribs. It was excruciating.

Dick was fast, he moved in a blur. Tim could hardly focus on him. His vision was beginning to fade. White spots clouding his vision; the pain was just too much.

He needed to close his eyes, he knew he shouldn’t.

but he did anyway.

+++++

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The grating alarm is quick to piss you off. You smashed the snooze button, groaning. You just wanted 5 more minutes of precious Beauty sleep.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Jesus— has it seriously already been five minutes?

With a groan you turn it off you and roll out of bed. You grab your phone to scroll through your socials as you make your way to the kitchen. You have a game today so you gotta actually eat breakfast for once— even if your options are limited.

Scanning the kitchen— seemed like cereal was your only option. You poured a bowl of ‘fruit rounds’. It tasted like cardboard but you had to eat. As you scrolled through TikTok your mind drifted back to yesterday.

Tim Drake

It was weird thinking about it, some random scholarship kid talking with the biggest nepo baby in Gotham. At least his family taught him some manners, he was nice enough to let you copy his notes. Which was more than you could say for most students. Yikes.

Finishing up with breakfast, you went about the rest of your morning routine. Packing up for the game you triple checked you didn’t forget anything. Coach would literally Kill you.

The ride to school was… odd.

Your stomach twisted and you broke into a cold sweat, it was like your first day of school all over again.

You stared out the window, trying to focus on the buzz and chatter in the subway anything to take your mind off this feeling

What would happen if you had a bad game?

The thought had been in your head since you found out about the game last week. But today it was relentless, it was all you could think of.

Bad games meant losing , Losing meant a bad season. Bad season meant.

No scholarship.

your breath hitched. This scholarship was your ticket out. Without it, you’d end up like her, like your mother. Swallowed by Gotham and everything she has to offer.

That wasn’t going to be your future.

Art and Maths go by in a flash. It’s always been hard for you to focus in class on game days.

Like always you make your way to Brandi’s locker, she’ll ease your mind.

“You look like a wreck” She raises an eyebrow, waiting for any sort of explanation “Game day nerves” you sigh feeling a wave of stress wash over you. You want nothing more than to collapse in bed. Pretend none of it’s happening.

She hums, “Ohhhh, forgot that was today” Brandi is the only one who truly gets it. Her GPA drops below 3.7? She's gone. you lose more than you win? you're gone.

She doesn’t press, instead talking about how her day was. It’s what you love about Brandi, she knows what to do.

You two go back and forth telling stupid jokes and gossip about other students.

Until you’re interrupted by a group of girls heading towards your lunch table. One girl breaks away from the group, she’s beautiful— blue eyes, shiny brown hair and flawless skin. The kind of pretty that can be bought. Expensive skin-care, hair products, the whole nine yards.

“Umm your y/n right?” She asks through giggles, the girls behind her are all whispering and laughing to each other. Something tightens in your chest. “Yeah… why?” You ask, voice quieter than you’d like.

“So like… are you like… friends with Tim now?” She hardly gets through her sentence, giggling and looking back at her friends.

“Uhh no?” You respond, with a little more confidence.

She stops laughing, her eyes narrowed “Oh!? So then why were you talking with him?” her voice is sharper.

What is with her? Is this middle school? “We’re assigned partners” you answer flatly.

“So you like weren’t passing notes with him?”

For a second you just blink at her. Why would you be passing notes with Tim Drake? You were just copying his notes.

”No”

“oh okay” She turns on her heels, heading back to her group. The giggles and side eye’s start up again.

You clench your first. This is why you wanted to avoid him— Dumb rumours, unwanted attention.

“What the hell was that about?” Brandi asks, “Why would I know?” you stab at your lunch, taking another bite of your food.

“Since when were you partners with Tim Drake?” She asked.

You froze.

If she didn’t know… How the hell did Tim get your number?

+++++

Tim woke up in his room. Mind still foggy and body aching, from whatever happened on patrol last night.

Fuck, he missed the chance to tell everyone about yesterday.

He groaned and reached for his phone—8:20. Still breakfast time, everyone but Jason should be downstairs.

It took all his strength to make his way downstairs. It was a bad idea to be moving so soon after an injury. But he had to tell them.

His body was screaming at him by the time he made it to the dining room.

“Quite the show Drake.” Damian sneered, not bothering to turn around and face him.“Who knew you were such an easy target?”

Tim rolled his eyes. No one at the table disagreed with Damian's comment. Deep down they all knew he was right.

“What happened out there?” Stephanie raised a brow. Dick and Duke looked up, expecting an actual, reasonable, explanation.

Tim paused, the pain stinging in his ribs.

“…I was thinking about y/n” he answered honestly.

A fork clanked on a plate.

“Enough to get shot?” Damian scoffed, shaking his head. “It’s not like you even have the guts to—“

“we’re assigned partners for a project… we were supposed to work on it today after school” Tim cut him off, hand clenching at his ribs.

Everyone at the table pauses. then everyone’s staring up at him.

Even Bruce.

”We sat beside each other yesterday, they copied my notes… I even texted them last night, before patrol” He tries to sound casual, but pride swells in his chest. He’s the first person in the family to talk with you.

The family see’s through him right away.

”you texted them?” Asks Dick

Tim nods, Damian scoffs.

“And you didn’t think it was necessary to tell us?” Bruce’s voice is calm, his expression neutral. But Tim knows him—he was analyzing everything.

“I was going to tell everyone on patrol” he exclaims, hand clutching his side as he limps to his seat. “it’d be easier to come up with a plan together”

His reasoning seemed sound, but the family knew better.

“You’re not fit to go to school today” Bruce stated coldly, turning back to his meal.

Tim paused “But-“

”you’ll invite them over tomorrow.” His voice is final, he sets his coffee cup down with a quiet clink “I’m sure they’d love to meet the family.”

+++++++++++

Chapter 1! Although the prologue feels more like Chapter 1 than a prologue. I stayed up way too late to finish this. If you want to be added to the taglist just ask me :).

Taglist: @jjsmeowthie @crazycaoticsimp

[uniquexusposts]

Neighbours again (C. Leclerc's Version)

Summary: After 10 years of not seeing each other, Charles randomly spotted his old neighbour on the stage of a world famous artist. He was lost for words and actions. But what would he do when he had the opportunity to see her again?

Attending a Taylor Swift concert was certainly something you had to approach at your own risk. The roaring engines of F1 cars were nothing compared to the cheers, no, the roars, of the crowd when Taylor Swift began her next song. The bright stage lights cast a kaleidoscope of colours across the arena.

Charles Leclerc stood slightly behind his friends, glancing around at the thousands of fans singing along, their phones lighting up the darkness like a sea of stars.

He wasn’t the biggest Taylor Swift fan; this was Pierre’s idea, not his. In fact, he had been dragged along by his friend, the others, and their partners. Charles had begrudgingly accepted, though he couldn’t help but feel like the odd one out, being the only single person in the group. Still, he had to admit, the energy was infectious. He found himself nodding along to the beat, betraying himself now and then by mumbling along to lyrics he hadn’t realised he knew.

“See? This is better than you thought,” Pierre said, nudging him with a grin.

Charles smirked. “Yeah, yeah. She’s good.”

He was about to tease Pierre for being such a diehard fan when the massive screen above the stage flashed to life, displaying a montage of the dancers backing Taylor Swift. His breath caught in his chest, the world narrowing to a single point.

It was her.

Y/n.

She moved with effortless grace, every spin and leap perfectly timed. Her focus, her power, her radiant smile; it was mesmerising. Even with just a fleeting image on the screen, she commanded attention.

Charles straightened his back, his heart pounding faster and faster. “Wait-” he started, standing on his toes to get a better look, but the camera shifted back to Taylor before he could fully process what he had just seen.

“What?” Pierre asked, noticing Charles’s sudden shift.

“That girl,” Charles said, his voice barely audible over the music. “On the screen. One of the dancers.”

Pierre frowned. “What about her?”

Charles shook his head, his gaze fixed on the stage as if willing the camera to return to her. “I think I know her. No, I do know her.”

For the rest of the concert, Charles couldn’t take his eyes off the dancers. Every time the camera panned over them, he searched for her, a mixture of disbelief and awe bubbling in his chest. Y/n wasn’t just there, she was there. A professional dancer, touring the world.

His admiration grew with every glimpse. She wasn’t just part of the show; she owned it, moving like the music was alive in her veins. This wasn’t just any stage; it was Taylor Swift’s stage. Y/n had made it to the top, and she looked so confident, so alive.

By the time the concert ended, Charles was still staring at the stage, hoping for one last glimpse of her. The others around him were gathering their things, but he stayed rooted in place.

“You good?” Pierre asked, nudging him lightly. “Blown away by a dancer?”

“Yeah,” Charles admitted quickly, though his mind was racing. Over a decade had passed since he had seen her. Back then, she was his bright-eyed, talented neighbour, and now she was here, living this incredible life.

But as they made their way out of the arena, a wave of disappointment hit him. He had no way to contact her. Their families had lost touch years ago, and they were practically strangers now. He couldn’t even remember her last name to look her up on social media.

♡

Charles slowed to a jog as he approached his apartment complex, the crisp evening air cooling his flushed skin. Monaco had settled into its quiet twilight, the golden hues of sunset fading to soft lavender. His muscles ached pleasantly from the day’s effort, and he was looking forward to an uneventful evening.

As he neared the glass doors of the lobby, he noticed someone outside, struggling with crutches. One hand awkwardly pushed against the doorframe while the other juggled a paper bag that seemed on the verge of giving out.

Frowning, he quickened his pace. The figure, slightly hunched in concentration, muttered something under her breath.

“Let me get that for you,” he said, easily pulling the door open.

The woman looked up, her startled expression softening into gratitude. “Thank you,” she said, a little breathless.

A polite smile grew on his lips. His eyes fell on her face; the woman wouldn’t look at him. Her cheeks were flushed. She was probably embarrassed. The woman moved slightly, exposing her face more. Charles’ face straightened, he froze, his heart skipped a beat. 

Y/n. 

“Thank you so much,” the woman said again. “I don’t know how to live with this. These crutches are horrible,” she mumbled. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be complaining.” 

Charles didn’t know what to say, not even if this wasn’t Y/n. What would someone reply to this? His heart skipped a beat when Y/n’s gaze met his. 

Her forced smile quickly turned into her signature smile. “Charles,” she smiled. 

“It’s you,” he murmured, unable to mask the surprise in his voice.

Y/n’s gaze met his, and after a flicker of hesitation, her lips curved into her signature smile; the one he thought he had forgotten but realised now he hadn’t.

“It’s me,” she said warmly, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Charles.”

For a moment, the years that had passed seemed to dissolve. The noise of the city faded, leaving only the two of them standing there as if time had bent in on itself.

He cleared his throat, stepping aside to let her through. “What happened?” he asked, gesturing to the crutches and the brace on her knee.

Y/n adjusted her grip on the crutches, her expression slipping into something practiced and calm. “A bad knee, an old injury, and an accident,” she explained, her voice steady despite the exhaustion creeping in. “Surgery was a few weeks ago. Recovery’s been… slow.” She tried to smile but faltered.

His brow furrowed, the concern in his dark eyes deepening. “An accident?”

She nodded, glancing briefly at the ground. “Just bad luck. I’m managing, though.” Her tone was light, but there was a brittleness to it that didn’t escape him. “I’ll get there. Eventually.”

Charles hesitated. He wanted to ask more, but the vulnerability in her voice stopped him. Instead, he said quietly, “If anyone can handle this, it’s you.”

Her eyes softened, and for a moment, the tension in her shoulders eased. “Thanks, Charles,” she said gently. “That means a lot.”

He hesitated, suddenly unsure of what to say next. There were so many questions on the tip of his tongue, so many things he wanted to know about her life, about the accident, her world. And yet, the words felt tangled, caught in the whirlwind of emotions that seeing her again had stirred. It felt strange, standing here like this; two people who once knew each other so well, now trying to navigate the weight of everything unspoken.

“You haven’t changed much,” Y/n said, breaking the silence with a teasing smile. “Still holding doors open for people, like the gentleman you’ve always been.”

He let out a soft laugh, the sound easing some of the tension between them. “And you’re still finding ways to make the best of everything,” he replied.

She grinned, shifting her crutches slightly. “Someone has to.”

Charles glanced at the bag she was holding, noticing how the straps were barely holding together. “Let me take that for you,” he offered, reaching out.

“Oh,” she started, momentarily reluctant, before handing it over. “Thanks. That thing’s been threatening to fall apart since I left the store. I should have brought a backpack or something.”

“No problem,” he said, falling into step beside her as they made their way toward the elevator. He couldn’t help but notice how her pace was slower, measured, as if every step was a calculated effort.

“How long have you been here?” he asked.

“Just a couple of weeks,” she replied. “I’m staying with Jeanne while I recover. She’s been… very accommodating. Begrudgingly so.”

Charles smiled at that. “Jeanne? She moved back?”

“Yeah, work brought her here. And now she’s stuck taking care of me.” Y/n smirked. “Not her favourite role, but she’s been good about it. She won’t admit it, of course, but I think she secretly doesn’t mind.”

He chuckled. “She always had a soft spot for you. Even if she’ll never admit it.”

As they reached the elevator, Y/n pressed the button, leaning slightly on her crutches for support. “I didn’t realise you live here,” she said, glancing at him.

“I’ve been here a while now,” he said, his tone easy. “Apartment 32.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Above us, then. Never imagined we would be neighbours again.”

He gave her a wry smile. “Life has a strange way of working out, doesn’t it?”

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a smirk. “Strange, or just a cosmic joke.”

The elevator doors slid open, and he let her step in first before following. The quiet hum of the elevator filled the space, but the air between them felt alive, charged with something unspoken.

“Do you need help with anything else?” he asked as the elevator reached her floor.

“No, you’ve done plenty already,” she said with a soft smile. “Thank you, Charles. Really.”

He helped her carry the bag to her door, lingering for just a second longer than necessary as she unlocked it.

“Well,” Y/n said, her tone light, “it’s nice to know I have a good neighbour upstairs.”

He grinned. “And if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, her voice warm. “Though I should warn you, Jeanne might take advantage of that offer.”

He chuckled, stepping back. “I’ll be prepared. Take care, Y/n.”

“You too, Charles,” she said softly, her eyes lingering on him for a moment before the door clicked shut.

As he walked back to the elevator, Charles couldn’t shake the feeling of déjà vu. Seeing her again had stirred something deep within him, a mix of nostalgia, curiosity, and something else he wasn’t quite ready to name.

Back in the elevator, he leaned against the mirrored wall, a small smile playing on his lips. “Neighbours again,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. Life really did have a strange sense of humour.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @ironmaiden1313 @blodwyn4u @sltwins @heart-trees @npcmia @llando4norris

[xo100]

Coffee - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando Norris visits a coffee shop every day after his run, mainly to see the barista—you. After some playful conversation, he finally asks you out.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1318.

୨ৎ

The familiar chime of the bell above the door rang softly through the cozy coffee shop, signaling the arrival of another customer. It was still early, and the usual bustle of mid-morning crowds hadn’t yet begun. The only sound besides the quiet hum of the espresso machine was the faint tapping of your fingers as you wiped down the counter, your mind only half-focused on the task at hand. It was quite in here at his hour, which meant you could almost always expect a familiar face to appear any minute now—his face.

—

Lando Norris had a routine, and his routine involved this little coffee shop on the corner. Every morning, after his early run, he would show up in his running gear, hair tousled from exertion, cheeks flushed pink from the cold, and order the same thing: a simple black coffee. It wasn’t the most complex drink on the menu, not by a long shot, but somehow, you had found yourself looking forward to it every time. Because when he walked in, it wasn’t just the coffee that caught your attention.

From behind the counter, you’d noticed him the very first time he walked in. How could you not? He was handsome in that effortless, boyish kind of way, with soft brown curls that always seemed to be perfectly messy, and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that gave the impression he was always one joke away from making you laugh. He was the kind of customer you wanted to chat with for longer than just a few minutes it took to pour a cup of coffee.

And Lando had noticed you too.

At first, he had been shy about it, his glances from across the counter lingering just a second too long. He’d fumble with his card or take an extra moment to say thank you, just so he could meet your eyes. Each time, his heart would do a funny little leap in his chest. Maybe it was the way you smiled at him—genuine, warm, the kind of smile that made him forget how could it was outside. Or maybe it was the you’d always remember his order without asking, your quiet kindness making the simple act of buying coffee feel personal.

Whatever it was, he found himself coming back every day. And today was no different.

—

As you wiped down the counter, you caught the familiar sight of him jogging up the street through the large glass window, his hoodie pulled over his head to keep out the chill. Your heart skipped a little beat, as it always did when you saw him approach. You quickly turned back to the coffee machine, pretending to busy yourself, though you knew it was useless. The chime above the door rang again, and you felt a flutter in your stomach as Lando stepped inside.

“Morning,” he said, his voice a little breathless as he tugged his hood down. He flashed you that lopsided grin that always made you want to smile back.

“Morning,” you replied, already reaching for the cup. “The usual, right?” He laughed softly, nodding. “Yeah, you know me too well.”

You gave him a playful glance as you worked, pouring the dark liquid into the cup with practiced ease. “It’s hard to forget when you order the same thing every day.” Lando leaned casually against the counter, watching you with an almost lazy kind of interest, as if he had all the time in the world to stand there and chat. And, well, maybe he did. “Maybe I’m just predictable,” he teased, eyes twinkling.

You shrugged, handing him his coffee. “Predictable can be good sometimes.”

Their fingers brushed slightly as he took the cup from you, and you felt a jolt of something—something warm and sweet—shoot through you. Lando seemed to feel it too, because his hand lingered for just a second longer than necessary before he pulled away, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “What else have you figured out about me then?”

You blushed at the question, suddenly very aware of how close he was standing. He had this way of looking at you, like you were the only person in the room, and it made your pulse quicken in a way that was both exciting and nerve-wracking.

“Well,” you started, trying to sound nonchalant as you wiped your hands on your apron, “I’ve figured out you like to run, considering you’re always showing up in running clothes. And you’re not too fond of sugar, since you never ask for it in your coffee.” You paused, glancing up at him. “Oh, and you’re a fan of coming in right after your run. Probably so you don’t freeze out there.”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Guilty,” he admitted. “But maybe I just like the coffee here.”

“Is that so?” You asked, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Because I’m pretty sure I’ve seen a few other coffee shops on your way here.”

“Yeah, well, they don’t make it like you do.” His voice was soft, the teasing edge still there, but laced with something a bit more genuine. His gaze lingered on you a moment longer, and you felt your face grow warmer under his attention. There was a beat of silence, one that neither of you seemed in a rush to fill. The morning light filtered through the window, casting a golden hue over the small shop, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you. No rush, no distractions—just you and Lando, standing there with his cup of coffee between you.

Finally, Lando cleared his throat, breaking the spell but not the connection. “You know,” he began, a hint of hesitation in his voice. “I was wondering… if you ever get a break?”

You blinked, not expecting the question. “A break?”

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, a touch of nervousness creeping into his usually confident demeanor. “You know, like… a break durning your shift. I thought maybe, if you’re free sometime, we could, I don’t know, grab a coffee? Well, not here, obviously,” he added quickly, grinning sheepishly.

You felt your heart skip again, this time harder, and you bit back a smile as you looked up at him. “You want to get coffee? With me?”

“Yeah,” Lando said, his eyes locking into yours. “I mean, I’ve been coming here for the coffee everyday, but honestly… I think it’s you I’m really here for.”

The words hung in the air between you, soft and sincere. For a second, you thought you might have misheard him, but the look on his face—hopeful and just a little bit vulnerable— told you otherwise. You felt a smile tug on your lips, warmth blooming in your chest. “I’d like that,” you said, your voice soft but sure.

Lando’s grin widened, the relief evident on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you replied, feeling the butterflies in your stomach dance widely. “Maybe after my shift? I finish around two.”

“Perfect,” he said, his excitement barely contained. “I’ll be here. I’ll vene let you choose the place.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you teased lightly. “Please do,” Lando shot back with a wink. He stood there for a second longer, as if he didn’t quite want to leave just yet, but eventually, he pushed off the counter, taking a step back. “Alright, I should probably let you get back to work. But, um… I’ll see you later?”

You nodded, feeling like you were floating on air. “See you later.”

He gave you one last smile before turning and heading to the door, the bell chiming softly as he left. You watched him walking down the street, the same way he always did, but this time, it felt different. You felt different.

Because today, nothing was really the same after all.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟNotes; thank you for reading my first story! Hope you enjoyed it! Also is there anyone who can tell me how to make a masterlist?

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

☒ Summary: Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. No matter how hard he tried.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader she/her pronouns used, hurt with comfort! call back to some scenes from part three, crying, hugs, kisses, slight toxic themes, lovesick!alastor, happy ending, different pov's and scene jumps are separated by the boarders to make it easier to follow!

☒ Word Count: 2,672

You stumbled back to your room with an uneasy feeling pooling in your gut. Alastor wasn't a man who portrayed such extreme emotions the way he just did right before your very eyes. The sight of his smile melting off his face felt immoral. 

Your mind lamented with turmoil. 

Everything Alastor said to you was outlandish, far-fetched. Yet he spoke with such conviction, such desperation. 

This man was nothing more than a stranger to you, yet some of the things he recounted filled in those blanks you harbored through life and death.

You had been drawn to Alastor's voice since day one. Something about him did feel... nostalgic.  

And when you danced, it was effortless.

But could that just be chalked up to a coincidence?

You shook your head to rid yourself of those pestering contemplations. There was no point in dwelling on it now. At the end of the day, Alastor was a ruthless overlord. He wasn't capable of love. 

Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. 

No matter how hard he tried.

And after the show he put on only moments ago... you felt more terrified of him than ever before. 

There is nothing more merciless than a man crazy in love.

Alastor stayed up all night mulling over all that transpired. He thought and thought and thought until his mind went numb.

What could he do to make you remember him?

It's not like he could leap back to earth circa 1933 with you and retrace your steps. That world he knew was long gone. 

Love is patient but waits for no one. 

Alastor lifted himself off the carpet on shaky legs. He haphazardly smoothed out his coat and tidied his bowtie. His shadows enveloped him within a moment, ferrying him to the bar located in the foyer. 

Husk jumped when he heard the radio warble in Alastor's voice. Demanding a tall glass of rye. The fluffy fellow knew better than to involve himself in Alastor's business. Husk poured his boss a fine glass of whiskey before turning his back. Continuing to scrub the pile-up of glasses. 

"Husker. Let's say you wanted somebody to remember something that was once near and dear to their heart. What do you presume would be the best possible antidote to bringing that fond memory back to life?"

Husk turned to face Alastor hesitantly. Taking note of the empty glass sitting in front of The Radio Demon. "Well, shit, I don't really know about that," Husk paused, refilling his Boss' glass. "I mean if I were the one who forgot, I guess a solid reminder of that missing somethin' would get the gears turnin'." 

Alastor's gaze was pointed, crimson eyes swirling with a sadness Husk had never seen from the feared demon. Husk cleared his throat before adding, "Like a photo or... an heirloom? Get what I mean?" 

Husk watched as Alastor's shoulders rose from their slumped position. His cynical grin morphed into something sharper, and his eyes now had that familiar gleam of assuredness. "Husker, my good man! You're not as witless as I thought. Thanks for the perspicuity and rye!" And just like that, The Radio Demon was gone. Whisked away by those ghastly shadows of his. 

Husk wasn't sure what he just unlocked for that evil man, but he hoped that whatever it was, it didn't involve him.

Husker's words replayed in Alastor's mind.

"A photo or... an heirloom?"

Husker, you mindless genius.

Alastor knew now what the key to unlocking your memories would be. 

And it was in the shape of a heart, threaded on a silver chain with a photo of him and yourself nestled inside.

The locket he gifted you for your one-month anniversary. The treasure that was wrongfully swiped by that bitch, Elaine. 

It was the catalyst for your first murder. The reason you probably sunk to hell, to begin with.

Alastor had no doubt that Elaine burned in hell along with the rest of them. She was a wretched wrongdoer. Now all he needed to do was locate her. 

Alastor had his fair share of connections in hell. One simple lift of his cane and the miserable sinners were coughing up information. A timid soul mumbled about hearing of an Elaine that fit Alastor's description. Fearfully pointing The Radio Demon in the right direction. 

Alastor chuckled to himself when he realized Elaine was shacked up at Valentino's studio— of all places. He recalls you telling him how Elaine boasted about one day becoming a picture star. 

Guess that little dream of hers came true in the most unconventional fashion. 

Alastor grimaced as the smell of sex and booze wafted past him the moment he stepped foot in the studio. Most of the bystanders turned to get a good look at The Radio Demon. Their pitiful faces were riddled with fear and awe. Probably wondering what an overlord like him was doing in a place like this. 

Alastor scanned the room begrundgly. Scrunching his nose in displeasure from the lewd displays surrounding him. Suddenly, a blonde broad caught his attention. She was sitting across the room, smoking a cigarette in her delicates. Presumably waiting til her shoot began. 

Her features were pouty and more pig than woman, but he was most certain that she was Elaine. 

Alastor approached her without hesitation, slamming his cane harshly against the dirtied floor to grab her attention. "Elaine! Oh, how unpleasant it is to see you again!" Alastor's voice was laced with faux excitement. He crossed an arm behind his back, puffing out his chest with pride. The surly woman glared at him while taking a drag of her cig. "Who the fuck are you?" 

Alastor placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "How could you forget the face of the man who corroborated your murder? I know you weren't always the brightest bulb in the box, but I mean, come on now, Elaine..." Alastor clicked his tongue in disapproval, relishing in the fear cascading over her face.

"Look, I don't want no trouble, mister." Elaine flicked her cigarette to the side, not caring where it landed, before putting her hands in front of her chest. Her own way of waving the white flag. "Well, that's great news! Because nor do I! However, I do want my darling's locket back."

Alastor's voice became low at the end of his sentence as his irises morphed into radio dials. Elaine leaned back in her chair, trembling like a leaf, as she brought her shaky hands up to her neck. She looped her fingers around the chain adorning her throat, untucking the locket from her delicates. Alastor's eyes widened at the sight of his beloved's heirloom in the hands of this wretch. 

"Look, I didn't mean anything by it when I swiped it from your little princess. I was just jealous, alright? Now, just— take it and go!" She tugged at the chain, breaking the locket off her neck before shoving it in front of herself. Dangling it right before Alastor's very eyes.

Alastor studied the piece of precious metal before flickering his gaze back to the cowering woman. "Tell me this, Elaine. Why did you keep the locket all this time, going so far as to bring it to hell with you after death?" Elaine looked taken aback by the inquiry. She scoffed, face turning red. 

"I wanted her life, okay? She had everything I wanted. The beauty, the brains, the beau. I knew if I had this locket and had it on me always, your little princess wouldn't have been able to find it if she went snooping through my things. If I couldn't have her life— then I had to have something of hers. Something that I knew would devastate her if she lost it." Alastor let out a wicked chuckle from Elaine's confession. He swiped the locket out of her grubby paws. 

"Elaine, you... could never be her. And you are quite lucky that I have better things to do today than waste another second on you. If that wasn't the case, I would have taken great pleasure in killing you myself this time." Alastor turned on his heel, shooting her a hostile glare from over his shoulder before taking his leave. 

"Bye-bye now, Elaine! Glad to see your aspirations of becoming a picture star finally came to fruition for you. Ha HA!"

The atmosphere in the room shifted the second Alastor stepped past the Hotel threshold. You were at the bar with Angel, having a well-needed drink, when a commotion at the front doors stole your attention. You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how quickly you turned your head in his direction. Already dizzy enough from the alcohol coursing through your bloodstream.

Alastor lit up when your eyes met his. He rushed over to the bar, wasting no time placing his hands on the stool you were perched on. He spun your chair, forcing you to face him, smiling with more excitement than you'd ever seen from him. "Alastor- what the fuck are you doing?" 

You peered up at him, eyebrows knit in annoyance from how he rudely pulled you away from the drink you were nursing. Alastor fell to his knees and leaned forward, face only centimeters from yours. "On our one-month anniversary, I gave you a locket..." Alastor's voice was laced with merriment, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Not this again- Alastor, please! Give it up." You pleaded, not noticing how Angel and Husk began to back away from the scene. Not wanting any involvement in this lover's quarrel. 

"But your bitch of a friend Elaine stole it from you, and you never ended up getting it back from her." You watched Alastor stuff a hand into his pocket, pulling out a shiny heart-shaped necklace. "So, I took matters into my own hands and got it back for you."

Alastor's free hand reached for yours. He flipped your palm to face the ceiling before placing the locket in your hand. You examined the piece of jewelry carefully, lifting it closer to your face to get a better view. "Open it." Alastor sounded positively impatient with excitement.

You gave him a weary look before thumbing over the clasp that kept the two metal hearts conjoined. You opened it slowly, and your breath hitched from what the tiny heirloom revealed.

It was a photo of a man and a woman. They appeared to be dancing in the photo. Limbs intertwined, both smiling from ear to ear. 

You weren't sure why, but the photo made your heart stutter. And the longer you stared into this moment forever captured in time, the blurrier it appeared. 

The feeling of Alastor's thumbs swiping along your cheeks broke you from your daze on the aged sentimental photo. He cooed at you, with much gentleness pooling in his crimson orbs.

Oh... you were crying? 

Alastor slowly took the locket from your grasp. You watched him expectantly as his hands reached beyond your shoulders, delicately wrapping the chain around your neck. Alastor skillfully clasped the necklace shut, restoring it to its rightful place against your sternum. 

The moment Alastor secured the clasp, you felt a surge of euphoria. A vermillion aura surrounded you, and your heart began to pound fiercely against your ribcage, echoing in your ears. That hole you had in your center for all these years began to flood.

You were motionless as your eyelids fluttered shut. In your mind, your life began to play out before you; like one of those old-timey picture shows. 

Moments from when you were alive and well flickered in your subconscious. All the pleasant memories and promises for the future were with him; With Alastor. 

In a wink, it all came back to you. Every touch, every laugh, every dance- every kiss. A groove in your heart that was wholly irreplaceable; you finally felt it again. 

The tears continued to trickle past your lashline as the sequence of core memories coursed through your head. Distantly, you could hear that familiar radio static hum. 

Your eyes flickered wildly back and forth behind your closed lids as your personalized picture show slowly came to an end. As you flitted yourself back into reality, the radio static warble grew louder. Overpowering the sound of your heartbeat; that thumped in your ears. Unhurriedly, your eyelids fluttered open.

Your world was smiling at you, and you smiled right back. 

"Hi..." You muttered weakly, laughing through the quiet sobs. Alastor continued to thumb away your tears. Crimson orbs softened as they met yours.

"Hello, my darling." His voice sounded better than it did moments before he bestowed the locked upon you. But maybe that's because you finally knew why his voice reminded you of home. 

It was because Alastor was your home.

"You waited for me all this time? Even after I was so cruel to you- why?" You brought your hands up, cupping his cheeks with care. The feeling of his cold skin underneath your fingertips was electrifying. Your body and mind had been deprived of him for far too long; each touch pleasantly overwhelmed your senses.

"Because, my dear, you are everything to me. I would have waited a century more for you if need be. Your cruel behavior only ignited my desire to reclaim your memories further. Nothing you do could ever make me stop loving you."

A lump formed in your throat from his admission. He spoke with such devotion. Alastor gazed at you; as if you hung the stars in the midnight sky. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sliding yourself off the bar stool. Opting to find comfort beneath Alastor's embrace.

He wasted no time pulling you into his chest, cradling you in his arms as your knees collided with the floor. Alastor nestled his nose into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his smile against your skin. "Oh, how good it is to be home." He mumbled against the base of your throat. 

You pulled back to admire his countenance, arms still weaved around his shoulders. Alastor's eyes flickered from yours to your lips. You took the hint, bearing the initiative in closing the gap. You felt heat surge through your chest when your lips touched his. Alastor's mouth moved in tandem with yours. The kiss was tender and needy; as if it was the first and last embrace you ever shared. 

Alastor's hands explored lower. Large palms smoothing down the sides of your arms, then your waist. Only pausing in his exploration when his hands met your hips. Alastor squeezed them firmly, pulling your body flush against his as he deepened the kiss. Your body felt light and airy, and it wasn't from the alcohol you indulged in tonight. 

The kiss felt like it lasted for an eternity. You only pulled away from your lover when your lungs began to scream for air. "I'll never let you out of my grasp ever again. I plan to keep you close for the rest of eternity. Just as I planned all along, my darling." Your heart lodged itself in your throat from his words. You nodded fervently in agreement as a chuckle escaped you.

"I'll hold you to it, my love." Alastor's grin softened the longer he gazed into your eyes. Slowly, he rose to his feet, lifting you to yours by the grasp he had on your hips. You let out a gasp as Alastor hooked his arms under your thighs, lifting you off the ground. He held you bridal-style, making quick strides through the foyer and up the stairs. 

"Al! What are you doing?" You giggled, holding onto his shoulders tightly as he skipped two steps at a time, all thanks to his long legs. You admired his visage from this angle, enjoying the cheerful glint that swirled in his eyes. "Taking us somewhere more private, darling. We have a lot of lost time to make up for!"

yall want smut for the next part or..............

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts @villxinmiixx @persephoneblck @maxlynn17 @littledolly2345 @karolinda007-blog @falling-endlessly @greekyoghurtwithberries @bladeismine @aloraaaxcrystalzx @doctorswife221b @scaramoochiie @fairyv-ice @chirikoheina @veroneverleft @tired-of-life-86 @saccharine-nectarine @c-thegingergirl @tsunaki @geminixbunny @softangxlicss @alleystore @sirens-and-moonflowers @fairyv-ice @honey132 @alastorsaries @zenix108 @michi-keinz @fokrilove @yourdoorisunlocked @willowshadenox @izakyun @fangirlbitch02 @kyana-chan @aquariaries @sincerely-lorely @maxlynn17 @ivebeenthearchersstuff @kurinhimenezu @memospacexx @night-shadowblood-writes2 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @uhhhimbored @chaotic-smol @shoyosdoll @alitaar @resident-cryptid @nijiru @sunshinesetsstuff @toby33b @th3casscad3

[bunny-1111]

I can hear the bells TN x reader

Theo Nott Oneshot.

...

There he was in all his glory, smile beaming, hair slicked back with that effortless elegance that made your heart flutter. A vision of what you’d always yearned for: Theodore Nott, standing at the altar, looking as if he’d just stepped out of your wildest daydreams.

You inhale deeply, the air thick with the scent of roses and whispered promises. This is it—you’re really getting married. It felt so surreal.

As you glance around the room, the soft glow of candlelight dances on the polished wood, casting a warm hue over the gathered friends and family, their smiles like sunshine piercing through clouds. Each face reflects the joy of the moment, but all you can focus on is him. Your heart pounds in your chest as you look down at your bouquet, a cascade of white peonies and deep crimson roses, the perfect contrast to your dress.

Finally, you lift your gaze, locking eyes with Theo. In that instant, the world falls away, and it's just the two of you. His deep-set eyes glimmer with unshed tears, his expression a mixture of awe and love. As you begin to recite your vows, emotion swells in your throat, choking you up. You can’t help but tear up as you promise him forever, your voice thick with emotion.

Theodore’s voice wavers as he speaks his vows to you, each word heavy with sincerity, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. It’s perfect; he is perfect.

“Now, you may kiss the bride,” a voice rings out, and you feel your heart leap as you lean into him. The kiss is electric, sweeping you off your feet and igniting a spark deep within. You melt into him, the world around you fading as the bells start to ring, echoing joyously through the air, a symphony to mark your union.

Chime, chime, chime.

You pull back, breathless and beaming, your hands entwined with his as you walk down the aisle, the bells ringing louder, enveloping you in their sweet sound.

But then—

“Shouldn’t they have stopped playing those bells by now?” you laugh, turning to Theo, whose smile is contagious.

He only grins, leaning in closer, but your vision starts to blur, and the sweet sound of the bells is still there, persistent, relentless.

Chime, chime, chime.

“Turn off the alarm, darling,” Theodore murmurs, sleep heavy in his voice as he turns over, arms wrapping around you tighter.

“Hmmm,” you respond, half-asleep, trying to shake the haze of slumber from your mind. The dream had to be real—the bell’s chime still reverberating in your ears, a lingering memory of what you had just experienced.

“Baby, the alarm,” Theodore repeats, his voice a gentle rumble as he leans over to turn it off. Reality crashes in, and you realise you’ve dreamt it all. It wasn’t wedding bells; it was your fucking alarm.

With a groan, you rub your eyes, staring at your surroundings—the familiarity of your room and the warmth of Theo beside you, warm and bare.

“What’s wrong?” he growls, pulling you back against his chest, his voice laced with sleep.

“No,” you whine, a small cry escaping as the weight of disappointment settles in your chest. You can almost feel the dream slipping away like sand through your fingers. It had been so perfect; you really thought it was real.

Theodore senses your distress, feeling your face scrunch against him. “Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice is soft, laced with sleepy concern.

“I was having the best dream—we were getting married and—” you begin, the memory washing over you like a warm tide, bittersweet and beautiful.

“Oh, hunny,” he coos, his voice soothing as he runs a hand through your hair. “Go back to sleep and dream on. It will happen, alright?” He tightens his hold around your waist, grounding you in the moment.

“Let’s just finish school first, alright? Go back to sleep,” he mumbles, his breath warm against your neck, pulling you closer as the remnants of your dream linger in the air.

You huff, shutting your eyes tightly, desperate to conjure the enchanting imagery of your wedding day once more. You long to drift back into that blissful dream.

[kkai-zen]

18+ nsfw, MDNI.

It’s so late. 

You yawn for the millionth time, checking your phone with a frown. Dick hasn’t texted you back since he left for patrol.

Crime in Blüdhaven had spiked sharply over the past few weeks, and of course your boyfriend was the one taking care of it. He’d been out late for the past several nights, always coming home more exhausted and battered than the last. 

Dick had been gone strangely long tonight, though. It was almost 3 AM, and you bit the inside of your cheek with worry.

Should I text him? Or call Alfred? Or Bruce, maybe?

But before your thoughts run rampant with worry, you hear the click! of your apartment door opening. 

Leaping to your feet, you see Dick’s shadowed figure hunched over in the doorway, barely visible against the darkness behind him. You’re at the door in an instant, anxious eyes scanning over his body for injuries.

“Are you feeling okay? Any injuries?” Looping his arm around your shoulders, you nudge the door shut as you guide him inside. 

His body is oddly feverish, chest heaving, and you see beads of sweat sliding down the exposed skin of his jaw and neck as he pulls his mask off.

“Yeah, m’ fine,” Dick grunts out, crashing onto the couch. You frown, kneeling down next to him. “Uh-huh. Dick, you’re burning up. Did you catch a fever?” 

You reach out to touch his forehead, but he grabs your wrist with a surprising amount of force. “Don’t,” he hisses. His eyes are squeezed shut, and when he opens them a moment later, you’re startled at how dark they look. “Dick? Are you-”

He jolts up, panting even more now, and his body is tense. “Stop- saying my name,” Dick groans, and the pieces click together in your head. 

“Dick, did you take an aphrodisiac?” 

He squints at you.

“Well, no- but, I, uh…had a run-in with Poison Ivy,” he murmurs through gritted teeth.

You gape at him, eyes wide and eyebrows raised, before a laugh bursts from your lips. 

Dick flushes a little more red, and gives you a half-hearted glare. “It’s not funny,” he huffs.

“I know, babe, it’s just…I never expected to see you in this state.” You give him a little nudge, grin still spread across your face. “You’re always so, y’know, in control of the situa- mmphf!”

His lips are on yours before you can comprehend that he’s moved. But what catches you more off guard is how aggressive he’s being. 

Dick is what you would call a golden retriever boyfriend. Goofy, light-hearted, witty—he still keeps all those traits in the bedroom with his effortless humor.

But right now, he feels like someone completely different. 

His hands are gripping your waist a little too tight when he pulls you on top of him, tongue forceful as his teeth clash against yours. “D-Dick, wait, I- ugh!” 

Before you can finish your sentence, he shoves two fingers into your mouth, ripping off your thin pajama shorts and panties in one swift move with his other hand.

“Missed you so much, babe,” he groans. “And fuck, you look so pretty like this. Might make you walk around the apartment with nothing on, just so I can admire you.” 

You shudder at his words, heat coiling in your lower belly.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth only to slide them down to your hole, already aching and dripping with need.

“What a slut,” Dick chuckles with a slight smirk. “Didn’t realize you liked it so rough, babe.” 

“Dick! S-stop it,” you flush crimson, embarrassment flooding your senses as you give him a light slap on the shoulder. “It’s just the aphrodisiac, you’re not usually so-”

“So what? Rough? Dirty?” 

He grinds up against you, his hardness pressing against your crotch. “I’ve always had these thoughts,” he murmurs, pushing a finger into your fluttering cunt. “Besides, you like this, don’t you?” Dick laughs before pressing wet, sloppy kisses into the side of your neck. 

“I…” you’re about to protest, but the feeling of Dick’s fingers and mouth and body underneath you has you reeling, grinding down into his hand. “Yeah, atta girl,” he teases, giving your ass a slap that pulls a moan from your throat. 

He nearly coaxes an orgasm out of you when he slips another finger into your soaked hole, whispering filth into your ear.

“Look at you, moaning like a whore for me,” Dick breathes. “So pretty, just for me.”

You mewl out his name, pussy clenching at his words. “Ah- ah, Dick, please,” you whimper. “I-ugh!”

Throbbing and twitching with need, you feel his fingers slide out of your cunt, and you whine. “Stop being so impatient,” Dick hisses. “Thought I was the one with an aphrodisiac in my system.”

“Well it’s your fault for being so hot,” you whine. Dick huffs out a laugh, his angry red tip pressing against your dripping cunt before he pushes his length into you, bottoming out in one swift thrust. 

“Oh fuck, baby,” Dick swears, teeth gritted. “Forgot how fuckin’ good you feel, so- ugh- warm n’ wet-” 

He grabs your ass, a smirk curling at the corners of his lips, as he slams you down his length. His pace has your head spinning with lust, his cock stretching you out so deliciously that it has you sobbing out his name. “Dick, ohh, fuck, it feels so- good-!” Tears slide down your cheeks as his tip slams into your g-spot over and over again. 

“C’mon babe, I don’t see you laughing now,” he pants, smug smirk full on his face now. “Too cockdrunk to think straight?” 

“Hnngh, please Dick I- ah!” 

The lewd plap-plap-plap! of his hips against your spread thighs has your eyes rolling back, tongue lolling out as your boyfriend drills into faster, desperation chasing him to his climax.

“W-with me, baby, cum with me,” Dick groans out, biting down on his lower lip. “Cream on my cock like a good girl, c’mon-” 

And with a cry, your orgasm crashes over you, turning your vision white. “Fuck!” 

By the time Dick pulls out of you, his seed has already spilled down your thighs, dripping onto his cock underneath you. You collapse forward into his broad chest, face pressing into his neck as you come down from your high. 

“You really do like it rough, huh?” Dick laughs, hand coming up to lay on the back of your head.

“Shut up, Dick,” you huff in response. “Me? Shut up? Never,” he responds, and you can hear the grin in his voice. 

You nuzzle into his neck further, but pause when you feel his hand slip under your shirt, a finger teasingly circling one of your nipples. “Dick, what are you-” you start, but he cuts you off with a deep kiss. 

“C’mon babe, did you really think I’d only go for one round?” He’s got that devilish sparkle in his eye, and you realize his pupils are still dilated.

“That aphrodisiac’s still in my system,” he hums, and you feel his cock twitch underneath your trembling thighs. Dick smirks. 

“Mind helping me out?” 

[onyourhyuck]

EXCHANGE LESSONS | L.MK

Pairing: mark lee x fem!oc

Summary: You’re the top student in every subject and your classmate!mark asks for your help in science and you offer the unprecedented exchange lessons that leave him off guard.

genre: smut, tutoring, classmates, inexperienced female oc, the concept of virginity being taken (it’s a social construct but you get it) and dominant!mark. minor groping, pussy eating and penetrating sex. Releasing on stomach, unprotected sex (please use a condom irl)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You’re at the top of the food chain in every subject. Your desolated heart and effortless mind astounds the entire community around you. Since you’re such a smart and passionate individual, people doubt you have any flaws.

But that’s not so true. You do suck at one subject; Sex. Your body and mind leave your soul every moment you tried doing the most remote action like making out — you suck at it.

Perhaps it’s because you’re not comfortable enough with the person? Or maybe the idea of being sexually active is a new concept to you. This puts you at a frustrating disadvantage. You want to experience what it is like to be held by another person, to be worshipped and loved by every curve you have. You really want to experience intimacy. Someone’s hands holding your waist with fingers scrolling circles on your bare skin. Dancing out in heavy rain? Angry makeouts. Jealousy. You want to experience those rollercoasters of emotions. But you can’t because you’re missing the second person. This was no way a one man action.

That was until an opportunity arises. The boy in your class that wasn’t so good at any of his classes, barely scraping by. He had a thick foreign accent - and he never stops boosting about how he’s from Canada. He was visibly attractive. Most girls in your class fancy him.

Mark never really spent his day alone. Ever. There will always be people surrounding him. It’s like this was his world and we’re all just living in it you know?

“Hey Y/n,” A voice strikes up from behind. The boy standing only few inches from your height with a beige cap on backwards. It gave him a real bandboyish look today.

Your eyes dart to him. At first you look visibly confused but you manage to respond with a very soft greet. “Hey what’s up?”

You guys barely talk so this was all very new. The most talks you ever did was a simple ‘good morning’ to each other and never speak again. In fact this felt very awkward on your end.

Mark’s eyes look on the very left end of the lockers. The built tone body wearing these very baggy clothing press up on the metallic doors. Voice trailing off in an obvious direction. “Uhh, you know nothin’ much. The usual you know how it is.”

‘Yikes why does he look suddenly so guilty and suspicious?’ You question in your own mind. What was this strange feeling in your stomach? Like a hollow pit about to explode.

You mumbles quietly. “Right…”

Turning around your locker slams shut. The stuff you needed was carried by your arms. You thought this conversation had ended considering Mark wasn’t spitting out anything he wanted to say but the moment your back had turned on him, the boy quickly leaps in front of your path.

“Wait!” Mark stops you with two hands urgently.

You stop now with a small shock spread on your eyebrows and a visible streak of annoyance in your eyes.

“Tutor me! I want you to tutor me,” Mark said with a little pant to those syllables he stressed out with a stretch. Those hands come down and it really looks like for a moment he was embarrassed to ask. As if he had no idea how to ask you.

That’s all he wanted from you. It was a tutoring lesson so he could boost his grade up. Because lord knows he needs a good number. Otherwise he is finished with this class.

Your eyes line themselves on the boy. “You want me to tutor you?” You repeated back, Mark gave a simple nod. “Why me? You could have asked someone else.”

He furrows those eyebrows. “You seem- cool enough.” Mark then paused and panicked. Your expression seems unhappy by that anticlimactic response. “I mean! Your notes are cool and easy to understand. You explain things well.”

Well that came out wrong, what he wanted to say is you’re cool enough and you’re the smartest in the class. He doesn’t think he ever saw you get a bad grade.

Deep in your heart you couldn’t say no. Mark seems to be desperate for your help and you technically had an alternative motive. As bad as that sounds you can actually imagine losing your first deed to Mark. He was handsome, without a doubt you maybe fantasised getting off to him before. You don’t want to admit it but you did it more than once.

He was the new boy, wild and bright. Radiant and sweet. He was respectful, popular with everyone he hardly has any enemies. No one could hate a guy like Mark. He was a foreign exchange student from Canada and what more, he was an amazing soccer player last year. He won for your school club a trophy. He’s done pretty remarkable things.

Except his classes, which he severely needs your help with.

Sitting down in your bedroom, you constantly glance over to Mark who was sitting on the other end of your bed writing down on his notebook. To which your mind was at a war between asking him if he wants to do something else or if you should leave your stupid idea behind.

You are lost on how to approach the idea to him. You can’t just say ‘Hey let’s sleep together!’ And look like a sane person. Because that’s the opposite of normal. You barely know the guy too.

Your body lifts up your sweater and you nervously laugh it off. “Ahh it’s so hot, right? I should take this off.” Your hands pull off the warm fabric off your limbs and Mark looks up from his notes to glance at you. He looks at you for good three seconds.

The good look on your visible black tank top and cleavage exposing caught his eye but not enough for him to grasp your intentions. Instead Mark continues his work like the champ he was. Unbothered and gullible.

“Yeah? I feel normal.” Mark relies obliviously. You furrow your eyebrows and feel your stomach clench. Why was it so hard to ask Mark to have sex with you? It’s like the most difficult question for you.

And you never struggled with math questions before. You can’t believe it. Why was a simple risky move harder than school work.

He went back to doing his work. Thankfully you’re an amazing tutor so far your explanations did wonders for Mark. But you’re sat there staring at him with your eyes gawking.

You’re like an eagle pouncing, but you’re hesitant at the same time.

The boy did take notice of your stares and very acknowledged presence. But he didn’t know why and he doesn’t quite want to ask you, because what if that makes you pressured and embarrassed? Mark felt however very watched. Every movement of his pen. Every step of his breathing he makes on the same bed you’re sitting with him on.

It felt discomforting almost?

You clear your voice. “Mark have you ever had…” you pause because you’re suddenly getting to know how intrusive you are being. The boy’s head lifts up and he waits for you to finish.

“Have you ever had sex?” You begin again. You bite on your inner cheek which starts to make Mark flustered. From such a smart and disciplined girl you really have a way of starting conversations.

Mark nodded. “Yeah. Did you?”

Even if it was an inappropriate comment, Mark didn’t lie about it and he answered you truthfully. The boy didn’t know what to say at first. But what’s the harm in saying yes?

You don’t reply and you move a little closer to Mark holding your knees against your chest. Wearing shorts came in handy because Mark can see a full outline of your beautiful legs.

“What was your first time like?” You ask without answering him. Mark raised up his eyebrow thinking to himself. “Uhh,” he sits up on the mattress.

Mark brushed the pen down on the notebook. “I think it was with my girlfriend at the time.” You fully expected him to say some chick at the party but knowing his ex girlfriend was his first time, made this somehow really sweet and romantic.

Mark mumbles. “But what was your like?”

Your lips fell in a thin line. In an embarrassing way you turn away your gaze when your reply hits the taller quick.

“Mark I am a virgin,” You said it with a moment of clarity. He wasn’t sure why you’re still a virgin when you’re decently attractive and hella smart.

It somehow doesn’t make any sense.

Mark’s mouth drops like an umbrella sheet. “No way.” And you nod to show its the truth. Mark laughs a bit not in a mocking way but in a sense of disbelief to lighten up your mood.

He could tell you’re almost ashamed but he didn’t think that’s anything to be ashamed of. In any case he wonders if that’s a positive more than a con.

“Hey Y/n that’s not a bad thing you know that right?” He nudges your arms with his elbow with a smile.

You sigh a little. “I know but I want to experience it. I don’t really care about my virginity that much.”

“So how come you’re still a virgin? You’re pretty and smart.” Mark chuckles, he didn’t quite understand it. If you wanted to lose your virginity card so badly how come you still have it?

Your eyes look at him, your chance to tell him how clueless you are when it comes to sex arises. A part of you don’t want to tell him you’re bad at sex because that’s really embarrassingly stupid. Or the fact that you have no idea how to do anything. You can’t even figure out how kissing goddamn works!

You swallow down your own emotions. “I have no idea how to have sex.”

Moments later your eyes have glued together in what seems to be a staring competition. Mark didn’t think you’d be completely clueless. It came so naturally to him when he was about to do it for the first time. To you this was like a big deal.

Mark comes forward mumbling nervously. “You don’t know how to kiss either?” You shake your head a no.

The boy was silent until his eyes fell down to your lips. They look pretty, they seem very red and plum. He couldn’t grasp it but the guts clench in a sudden contraction.

“Do you want me to teach you?” Mark starts to ask you. Your face fell to the ground or it rather feels like it. He read your mind.

He was so nervous about it, he didn’t want to come off like a freaking creep to you. Little does he know you were begging for this offer.

He trails. “You know — like exchange lessons? You helped me with science and I can help with sex lessons.”

That doesn’t sound too bad to you. The deal was appealing. Your eyes sparkle up and come forward to kiss his lips. When you did the first gesture this said a lot to the boy before you. You were agreeing. You didn’t back away, your eyes were glowing at the idea of him teaching you what to do during sexual encounters. And thus, he opens his mouth slipping in slowly his tongue. Caressing your soft untouched mouth was like a dream come true. You were like melting ice the moment your mouth felt the warmth of the salivas mixing in as one. The kiss was slow at the beginning but occasionally you got the hang of the pace and Mark decided to spice it up.

He had to spice it up for you. Mark wanted to show you how it really is. What it really awaits you. The kiss springs from the bottom, a sudden piercing movement shocks you causing your moans to fall off.

Did he just bite your bottom lip? He smirks at your reaction and pulls you down on the bed. Hovering above your lean shoulders those grabby hands touch on your waist to position you a little downwards to his liking.

Mark kissed your neck, your jawline, down the side to your ears and your shoulders once your top slips off leaving you in your bra.

Your bra was a pretty blue colour. Mark smiles at your chest in slight adoration. Your eyes took a glimpse of his eyes and his lips have small kisses to your chest, to the cleavage. In between your breasts he brushed his face into the softness of your pillows.

“You know I’m surprised you’re a virgin.” He begins quietly, travelling his mouth down to your stomach till your navel touches.

Your feet curl up. This was somehow nerve wrecking but it feels good? But it’s so slow and it’s like he’s bringing you to rest.

“Why?” You ask out quietly.

Mark mumbles when his fingers reach the very entrance of your panty lining. He stops at your abdomen monitoring the shorts he took off. Your panty matches the colour to your lovely bra. You feel so warm between the flat stomach, his fingers slip your panties down to your legs half way.

Eyes look up to see your face. “You strike me as someone who knows everything.” He might be right. You come across as reliable person.

But you don’t know everything unfortunately, you’re only human and you doubt that Mark knows absolutely everything too. You smile shyly and close your thighs together.

This was embarrassing. You never really went further than kissing someone badly before. He could see everything but the moment your legs shut him off Mark gave a small nudge with his hands to pull your thighs apart gently.

“No hiding Y/n come on? Open up for me.”

Your hands cover your face as your legs open up like two doors. Mark smiles in awe but you couldn’t see that. The boy kissed your entrance, like a peck to the lips until those same lips kiss the inner thighs. He loved seeing your legs trembling from nothing but nervousness.

You really are a small ball of wreck.

He quietly says. “You’re pretty down there why are you so worried?”

He didn’t quite understand what was making you this anxious and you shudder when his tongue does kitten lick motions to your pussy. You’re unable to make any sense of what just happened, but all you know is that this feels too good to stop.

Tongue traps at your nub flicking his motions in left and right directions: your pelvis subtly lifts off the bed to roll back. Mark hums against your entrance, he was devouring you as if it’s his first time too. It feels too good for you and that’s what’s making him get off the whole idea: You feeling good.

His tongue went inside your small hole giving it a few thrusts of his tongue. His nose pressed right against your clit. Your burning hot skin flushes his face and your thighs squeeze when your stomach clenches so tightly. Without a warning you slip into oblivion.

Mumbling out highly. “Fuckfuckfuck m’gonna cum.”

Striving to give you the best orgasm of your life, Mark feverishly sucks on your edging pearl, your clit was practically swollen and this pushed you right off the edge just as he wanted you to. He was watching up at you from down there seeing your spine arch and your moans hit the back of your throat, so hoarse and sore. The way your eyes shut and your hands grip at anything nearby: the bed sheets, your breasts, his thick hair.

Pulling out of your wet slimey pussy from all the coating of saliva. You take a deep breath, Mark positions him above you he saw your bright reddish cheeks and your sparkling wet eyes. You look beautiful like this.

He whispers. “Do you still want to continue?”

Your mind was a fog but you never hesitated to reply to your classmate. “Yes, please.”

It’s definitely a sight to see. You’re being so adamant about it. Mark leans down and pulls down his rock solid crotch out. Those jeans slipped off and it leaves an ugly feeling when you’re hard in jeans.

It feels like a big weight lifted from him when it comes off. The boy sits back and gave you a glance as if he is telling you to come forward.

“Do you want to take the boxers off?” You heard him ask you. Your eyes light up and with your small hands pulling off his boxers. Mark gave you a dark gaze when his large cock springs up against his stomach. Your mouth waters just looking at it.

Your stomach made a small butterfly clutch too. You look at him in panic. “Whoa wait, will that fit?” You sound so dumbfounded. But Mark grinned and he rubs your thighs reassuringly.

“It can, it will. Trust me on this I’m the teacher here.”

He was right he was the teacher here and you’re just a mere helpless virgin. You lay down on the bed sheets when Mark moves on top of you his hard tip had to do a few teasing streaks on your entrance. You were anticipating him to just ram it in — but he wasn’t.

You were just impatient and Mark was a very patient guy who didn’t want to rush a process like this. At least for now he doesn’t have anywhere to be, what’s the rush right?

The tip was pushed out and back in, it was like a car reverse and driving forward. Your entrance was locked tight so Mark wants to stretch you out with just the tip. He had a feeling he might have to use two fingers before anything else is to happen. The boy pressed his thumb and rubs your clit. You mumble out a whine, and then his singular finger goes inside you just to do a little stretch here and there. The second finger was when it starts to feel too good for you. Your eyes shut and your voice starts to feel good.

He made his hand shake a little and then come out. Only for his tip to slip in fully in you and then gradually expand his shaft inside your pussy. You feel good, Mark was addicted to the feeling of his cock buried in your velvety new walls.

He grunts, his breath shaking. “Ah fuck Y/n, you feel better than i thought you would.”

It took every ounce of his body not to rut against you like a wild fucking beast, Mark moves up against your stomach. Your hands tremble upwards to hold his forearms.

“Mh! Fuck, it kind of hurts.” Your voice murmurs and the boy had his attention all on you. He was watching only your face when his body did the moving thing. When you told him it kind of hurts, Mark had a feeling the pain will turn to pleasure soon for you. All he could do was give a small ‘shh’ and a kiss on the forehead for you.

You’re kind of glad Mark is your first. He seems to be gentle and loving enough for this. If it was anyone else you don’t think they would be as supportive as he was to you.

A simple kiss on the forehead made your worries disappear. And you let him rut against your pussy that squelches on his shape, taking every single inch of his cock until he was balls deep.

He was right, the pain did turn to pleasure real soon.

He brushed some of your hair back from your face as his thrusts connect to his pivoting muscles and hips. Mark admires your honesty expressions too, he couldn’t help himself. You were pretty even in this state.

The boy brushed down your jawline, he leans to capture a kiss on your lips. Your voice slips off like a breathy breeze. “Mark — feels too good.”

He smiles down at you. “I know,”

Your thighs wrap themselves on his waist and that brought him deeper in a whole new position when he is pushing in your loving arms. And then you feel a strong urge in the stomach, something that’s about to explode.

Your eyebrow ends connect, furrowing. “M’think I’m gonna cum…”

You didn’t exactly know but the feeling was so intense it overlaps your hearing and your brain goes back moments later after the surging sensation washes over you.

Mark feels you cumming right on his cock, he grits his teeth together jawline attached with his remaining strength.

“Me too, I’m close, hold on.” He mumbles lowly until he fucks himself just enough to pull out of you and then flick his wrist down the shaft to paint you of his cum on your bare stomach.

Deeply breathing the boy pulls back on the bed, you achingly sit up with a small groan. You never felt your body become this sore.

Your eyes watch Mark as the boy brushed back his hair with his hand. You both look like visible messes. Sweating and panting.

Your lips curve into a small smile. “So, do you need help with anything else in your classes?”

Mark gave a visible chuckle somehow it feels like you’re going to be more of a distraction when you’re going to tutor him than he likes to believe.

“Uhh, let’s see.” He replies, looking at the studying materials you guys left unattended on the floor. Scattered is the right word more like.

“I think I prefer to Exchange Lessons.” He admits, causing you to chuckle.

Mark thinks you do too, considering you’re not disagreeing.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank you!! Follow my blog for more and reblog it helps a girl out<3 ily

[seulgisqt]

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐒 — alexia putellas

alexia putellas x barcelona!reader

(a/n: on a roll trying to pump out my drafts cause I can feel the drought coming soon from uni >_< I’ve had this alexia piece gathering dust from last february)

word count: 2234

genre: somewhat fluff with angsty tendencies??

tw: emotional cheating

part two

summary: trying to keep your heart in check, but alexia’s charm keeps slipping through the cracks

You had always dreamed of playing for FC Barcelona. The moment you stepped onto the training grounds for the first time, it felt surreal, like walking through a dream you were afraid to wake up from. The weight of the crest on your chest, the legacy of the club, the camaraderie…it was everything you’d imagined.

What you hadn’t imagined was Alexia Putellas.

Alexia had a presence that couldn’t be ignored. As captain, she carried herself with an effortless confidence, but it wasn’t just her skill that made people gravitate towards her. It was how she made everyone feel like they belonged and were part of something greater. You admired that. Admired her.

But admiration was one thing. Whatever this thing brewing between the two of you? That was something else entirely.

It started subtly.

You noticed the lingering glances during drills, the way Alexia always seemed to pick you as a partner for rondos, and the teasing remarks that hovered just on the edge of something more. At first, you thought it was just the team’s natural warmth, a culture of closeness, of sisterhood. But then came the casual brushes of Alexia’s hand against your arm, the way she’d lean in just a little too close when you were reviewing plays, the way her eyes would linger just a second too long.

You weren’t unaware of the tension that danced just beneath the surface; rather, you were cautious. Caution was necessary because no one on your team was privy to the intricate details of your life back home. It wasn’t a secret in the traditional sense—more of a quiet truth you didn’t feel the need to broadcast. Lucia, your girlfriend, had been your unwavering supporter as you took the leap to move to the vibrant city of Barcelona. She understood the sacrifices involved, even as the miles stretched between you. You had made her a promise, a vow echoing in your mind: you would make it work, that your bond was resilient enough to withstand the distance and that nothing essential between you would change.

But things were changing, weren’t they?

After an intense afternoon training session, most of the team had already headed inside, but you stayed behind to run a few extra drills. You were focused, dribbling through a set of cones, when Alexia appeared at your side, effortlessly matching your pace.

“You know, overachieving isn’t always attractive.” Alexia teased, her voice light, but there was a glint of something more in her eyes.

You smirked, side-stepping around a cone. “Good thing I’m not trying to be attractive.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” She chuckled, a rich sound that sent warmth prickling down your spine.

You rolled your eyes and tried to focus on the ball at your feet, but it was hard when Alexia was right there, watching you with that signature, half-lidded smirk.

“You always this serious?” Alexia asked, dribbling in sync with you.

“Serious wins games.” You said without missing a beat.

Alexia grinned. “Yeah, but flirting makes them fun.”

You barely managed to avoid tripping over the brightly coloured ball that had rolled onto the path. With a swift recovery, you straightened yourself just in time to see Alexia snatch it up, a playful glimmer dancing in her eyes that made her amusement unmistakable. “You’re unbearable,” you muttered half-heartedly, nudging her lightly with your shoulder in an attempt to redirect the conversation to a more comfortable territory. But Alexia didn’t shift away; instead, she leaned in just a bit closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You like having me around though.”

You swallowed hard, a knot forming in your throat as you grappled with an unfamiliar warmth creeping over you. The afternoon sun beat down relentlessly, but the flush in your cheeks hinted at something deeper—an awareness that you could not shake. “I like winning. You help with that.” You attempted to keep the atmosphere light, forcing out a nervous chuckle that barely masked your racing heart. Alexia, ever perceptive, tilted her head to the side, a playful spark dancing in her eyes as she regarded you with an amused smirk. “Good answer,” she replied, the corners of her lips curling up in delight. A quiet sigh of relief escaped your lips as Alexia leaned back a fraction, the teasing tension lingering in the air between you, thick and palpable.

In the locker room later, you sat down on the bench, wiping sweat from your brow. Your phone buzzed with a message from Lucia: Miss you. Call me later?

You stared at the screen, feeling the weight of the distance between them more than ever. You were loyal, you loved Lucia. But Alexia had a way of getting under your skin, of making you question things you didn’t want to question.

“You good?” a familiar voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, pulling you back into the bustling hallway. You looked up to find Alexia standing a few feet away, her silhouette framed by the harsh fluorescent lights. She leaned casually against the row of lockers, one leg crossed over the other, a relaxed posture that somehow emanated confidence. The warmth in her gaze was new; it held an unexpected softness that made your chest tighten slightly.

“Yeah,” you replied quickly, a hint of defensiveness creeping into your tone as you shoved your phone deep into the recesses of your bag. “Just tired.”

Alexia studied you for a moment, her brow slightly furrowed in concern, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she offered that signature smile of hers, bright, infectious, and impossibly charming. “Dinner tonight? A few of us are going out.”

You hesitated, feeling a wave of uncertainty wash over you. You were acutely aware of what this invitation could spell out—more time spent close to Alexia, infused with her teasing laughter and those lingering looks that made your heart race. Despite the swirl of apprehension, you found yourself nodding, the corners of your mouth lifting in an awkward smile. “Yeah,” you said, the word escaping as a soft agreement. “Sounds good.” 

As Alexia turned to walk away, her laughter trailing behind her like a melody, you let out a slow, deliberate exhale. You leaned against the cool metal of the locker, the weight of the day and your mixed feelings pressing down on you.

This was fine. This was friendly. This was nothing.

The problem was, Alexia didn’t let up.

On and off the pitch, she found ways to insert herself into your orbit, offering to run extra drills with her, sitting next to her during team meetings, and walking alongside her after training. And every time, there was that look, the one that made you feel like you were standing on the edge of something dangerous.

You regretted saying yes almost immediately.

Dinner with the team was intended to be a simple outing, a chance to unwind and bond over good food and drinks. Yet, the moment Alexia stepped into the bustling Barcelona restaurant, the atmosphere shifted. You should have sensed the impending chaos and politely declined the invitation, preferring the comfort of a quiet evening at home. Instead, here you were, surrounded by a vibrant mix of teammates at a long, rustic wooden table, laughter and lively chatter enveloping you like a warm embrace.

The aroma of grilled seafood and roasted vegetables wafted through the air, mingling with the sounds of clinking glasses and cheerful toasts. But amid the joviality, your thoughts were consumed by the presence of Alexia. She sat so close that every subtle movement caused your arms to graze against each other, sending a jolt of warmth through you. Her laughter rang out, bright and infectious, drawing everyone in, but for you, it was a reminder of the tension layered beneath the surface. You should have called Lucia, sought the solace of familiarity, and anchored your heart where it truly belonged. Instead, you played along, trapped in this delicate balance of camaraderie and unacknowledged longing.

“You don’t drink?” the blonde asked, raising an eyebrow as you stuck with water while the others sipped on glasses of wine. You smiled faintly. “Nah, not really my thing.”

“You’re always so serious, chica,” Alexia leaned in slightly, her voice low enough that only you could hear, “Ever thought about letting loose?”

You met her gaze, trying to ignore the way your heart thumped harder. “I’m plenty of fun,” you arched an eyebrow, “just…in my own way.”

Alexia smirked, eyes twinkling with something you couldn’t quite place. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

The rest of the team was oblivious to the tension simmering between you two, caught up in their own conversations. You did your best to focus on the food, the chatter, anything but the way Alexia kept looking at her as if she was trying to figure her out.

Without any hint of hesitation, Alexia leaned closer, her breath gentle and warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “You know,” she whispered, her voice low and inviting, “if you ever want to talk about whatever it is you’re keeping locked away, I’m a really good listener.”

You froze in place, your fork paused mid-air, a piece of food forgotten as her words sank in. Alexia pulled back slightly, a playful, innocent smile dancing on her lips, but behind that façade, you sensed a deeper intention. She was observing you keenly, prodding and probing, pushing the boundaries to see what lay beneath your guarded exterior.

And the worst part? It was working.

The night stretched on, and you found yourself relaxing more than you intended. The conversation flowed easily, and you were reminded of how much you truly loved being here. How much you loved the game, the city, the team.

But every now and then, Alexia would say something, touch your arm softly, or glance at you in a way that made your thoughts spiral into dangerous territory. By the time you left the restaurant and the team spilled onto the lively Barcelona streets, you felt like you were walking a tightrope. 

“You heading home?” Alexia asked casually, falling into step beside you as you walked through the city. 

“Yeah, early training tomorrow.” You nodded.

Alexia smiled knowingly. “Always responsible.” 

“Someone has to be.” You shot her a look. 

You walked in silence for a moment, the cool air wrapping around you both like a gentle shroud, before Alexia broke the stillness. With her hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans, she spoke in a softer tone, almost as if she were sharing a secret. “You know, I get it. Keeping parts of your life to yourself.”

You stiffened slightly at her words, glancing at her with curiosity and caution. “Do you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Alexia nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah,” she replied, her gaze drifting to the ground ahead. “People expect things from us. Sometimes it’s just easier to keep certain things private.” She paused, taking a deep breath as if the weight of her confession lingered in the air. “But…it can get lonely too,” she added quietly, her eyes flickering with a hint of vulnerability.

You contemplated her words, the significance hanging between you like unspoken truths, debating in your mind whether to share your own feelings. After a moment's hesitation, you finally responded, “Yeah,” your voice low and reflective. “It can.”

As they approached the intersection where their paths would diverge, Alexia paused for a moment, an indecision flashing across her face. She looked up at you, her eyes glimmering in the soft glow of the streetlights. “Well,” she said, a small, almost hesitant smile forming on her lips. “Goodnight, chica.”

“Night, Alexia,” you replied, your voice slightly strained as you forced a smile back at her, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you.

With that, you turned away a little too suddenly, your heart pounding in your chest as you walked briskly down the street. Each step felt heavier than the last, the sounds of the evening fading into a dull roar in your ears.

Once you finally arrived at your apartment, you slumped down onto your bed, the familiar comfort of your room juxtaposed against the storm brewing inside you. Your gaze fell on your phone, which lay silently beside you. An unread message from Lucia caught your eye, its simple declaration striking a chord deep within: I love you. Call me when you’re free.

A sigh escaped your lips as you ran a hand through your hair, frustration and longing intertwining in a tangled mess of emotion. You loved Lucia, you truly did, but the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings hung in the air around you, suffocating yet inescapable.

You lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, your phone resting on your chest. Lucia’s message glowed softly in the dark, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond just yet. Your mind was still tangled in the evening, in the way Alexia looked at you, and spoke to you.

This isn’t a problem, you told yourself. I’m just overthinking it.

And yet, you knew better.

You sighed, finally picking up your phone and typing out a quick reply:  I love you too. I’ll call tomorrow, I promise. Training ran late.

A lie. A small one. But it was easier than explaining why she hadn’t called sooner.

[sixeyesonathiel]

pairing – gojo x oblivious!reader

a/n : short drabble based on this ask :3 , i am always humbling reader in my fics so let's make him grovel here to make it fair :3

7:42 AM.

the little bell above your diner's door chimes, and like clockwork, he's here.

the morning sun slants through the wide glass windows, casting long golden streaks across the checkered floor. the scent of fresh bread lingers in the air, mingling with the faint hum of an old jukebox playing some soft, jazzy tune. satoru gojo steps in like he owns the place—like he owns every space he walks into—moving with that effortless arrogance of a man who’s never been told ‘no’ and actually believed it.

his sunglasses dangle from the collar of his crisp white shirt, his sleeves rolled up just enough to tease at lean forearms, veins faintly visible beneath his skin. there's a playful ruffle in his snowy hair, like he just ran a careless hand through it, and the slight crook of his lips makes it very clear he’s in one of his moods. outside, the world is still waking up, but here, in this tiny corner of the city, satoru gojo is already in full swing.

but the real kicker? the grin. that goddamn grin, lazy and lopsided, as if he already knows he's won a game you didn't even know you were playing. it's the kind of smile that should come with a warning label—dangerous, reckless, prone to making your stomach flip if you’re not careful.

you shoot him a bright smile, already reaching for his usual. “morning, satoru! long night?”

he leans against the counter, the wood creaking under his weight, eyes locked onto yours with the kind of intensity that should set something on fire. “awful. i spent hours thinking about something. couldn't sleep a wink.”

your brows furrow slightly, fingers wrapping around a tall glass as you place his usual drink in front of him. “oh no! work stuff?”

he takes a slow sip of his chocolate malt milkshake—extra whipped cream, just the way he likes it—his lips curving around the straw in an infuriatingly slow manner. his gaze never wavers. “you stuff, actually.”

you gasp, absolutely touched. “satoru! that's so sweet! i had no idea you liked my cooking that much.”

his fingers tighten ever so slightly around the cold glass. a lesser man would fold right then and there, but satoru gojo? delusional.

he chuckles, low and smooth, tilting his head as his voice drops to that slow, deliberate drawl. “i do like your food, but i was thinking more about the woman behind the counter. the one with the cute apron and the even cuter smile.”

your eyes light up, and for a second—just one, fleeting second—his heart leaps. this is it. she finally—

“oh my god, you mean—mika?! yeah, she’s great! she only works the afternoon shift, though. i can give you her number if you want?”

satoru's soul ascends. and it's not in the good way.

“no,” he says, voice tight, and it takes everything in him not to cry-laugh into his milkshake. “i meant you, sweetheart.”

your lips part slightly, like the thought has never even occurred to you. "me?"

“you,” he repeats, a little more desperate now, like a man clinging to a lifeline in stormy waters. “c’mon, don’t tell me you’ve never noticed how much i like you.”

you blink once. then twice. then— “aw, satoru!” you beam, placing a warm hand over his much larger one, your fingers barely covering the span of his knuckles. “i like you too!”

his breath hitches.

“you're such a great friend!”

the moment stretches, hangs in the air like a thread about to snap. satoru doesn’t blink. doesn’t breathe. somewhere in the distance, a car honks, a cup clatters, life moves on.

but then you squeeze his hand—soft, warm, devastatingly innocent—and flash him a smile so radiant he nearly forgets the last ten seconds ever happened.

“here! on the house today,” you say, sliding a small plate of fluffy cream puffs toward him. the golden shells glisten under the morning light, filled to the brim with silky vanilla custard and dusted with a light sprinkle of powdered sugar. “something sweet for someone just as sweet!”

…he’s never been more in love in his entire life.

[fangedbats]

short little snippet based on this by @frownyalfred !! i really enjoy this concept and when i saw it i knew i had to write as soon as possible

It’s instinct.

The way his body twists mid-air, tracking the trajectory of a threat with effortless precision. The way his head tilts just slightly, not a moment wasted, eyes sharp and calculating. It’s a routine ingrained into muscle and bone, a dance performed thousands of times before, whether in the limelight of a trapeze act or the shadows of Gotham’s rooftops.

It’s almost laughable, really—how many people have decided, consciously or not, that Nightwing is the one to toss around.

Friends, foes, and everyone in between. Donna had done it once years ago, her laughter echoing as he landed with a huff of mock indignation. Wally has made a game of it, testing just how far he could push him with a sudden shove or a gust of super-speed mischief. But then there are the others. The ones who’ve done it out of malice. The ones who’ve thrown him to hurt him, to break him. The ones who miscalculated how much he could take.

They’ve all underestimated him.

Landing, after all, isn’t just a skill to Dick Grayson. It’s survival.

The Flying Graysons taught him the poetry of motion—the arc of a leap, the perfect timing of a catch. Bruce taught him to weaponize it, to make falling a strategy, a trap for those arrogant enough to think they had the upper hand. But this? This isn’t quite either. It’s not purely circus artistry, nor is it wholly bat-trained pragmatism.

It’s something uniquely his own.

His landings aren’t just recoveries; they’re statements. A fluid roll into a springing kick. A sudden crouch into a leap that takes an opponent off-guard. Even the quietest touch-down is deliberate, a reminder that he’s always in control, even when the ground is rushing up to meet him.

And yet, it’s more than control. There’s defiance in it. A refusal to let anyone dictate where or how he falls—or if he falls at all.

So they can throw him. Laugh at him. Underestimate him.

He’ll keep twisting through the air, keep watching, calculating, landing on his terms. Every toss, every stumble, every fight—it's all just more practice. Another step in perfecting something that is, and always will be, purely Nightwing.

[froggibus]

Boned - Leon S Kennedy

Pairing: Leon S Kennedy x gn! reader

Genre: fluff, comfort

Word Count: 700

Summary: after a horror movie marathon with your boyfriend, you find yourself a little jumpy

CW: ambiguous but i imagined re4/re6 leon while writing this, established relationship, pet names, horror movies, scaredy cat reader, guns (Leon has a pistol), paranoia/fear, Leon makes dumb jokes, mostly fluffy i swear

our first little break from kinktober writing + first little dive into fall fest! i really enjoyed writing this and think if i keep it up maybe im gonna do it again next year! i was giggling to myself making these jokes so i hope yall find them funny ^^

masterlist | kinktober/fall fest masterlist

You flinch as a scream rattles out through the speaker, echoing in your ears. Leon’s grip around your shoulders tightens, his jaw set firmly.

He sighs. “Why do you insist on watching these when they scare you every damn time?”

You nuzzle your head into the chest, the scent of his cologne soothing your nerves. “They excite me.” You glance up at him through your lashes, “why’re you complaining, huh? You scared?”

He rolls his eyes at you, chuckling at your antics. Your attention goes back to the tv, focusing on the third consecutive horror movie of the night. Leon’s never enjoyed this style of movie—too close to what he’s done for work and seen from Umbrella—but he always sucks it up for you.

The thought makes you cuddle closer into the warmth of his body.

—

You’re half changed into a pair of pyjamas pants and one of Leon’s old shirts when you hear the scraping at the window. You stagger backwards, the t-shirt catching on your head and blocking your vision. You strain against the cotton, tugging it the rest of the way over your head and squinting towards the source of the noise.

You let yourself relax when you see there’s nothing outside, the room so quiet it’s as if you imagined the noise. Settling in on the side of the bed, you tuck yourself in and wait for Leon to finish brushing his teeth.

You glance away for one second and suddenly there’s another bang outside. You flinch, leaping to your feet and making a mad dash towards the bathroom. You shove the door open, staggering towards Leon with wide eyes.

“What is it?” He frowns, “what’s going on?”

You wrap your hand around his bicep, gesturing to the closed bedroom window. “I think,” you say quietly, “there’s something outside.”

Your boyfriend is dropping his toothbrush on the counter and shoving his way through the door without another word. You shuffle behind him slowly, following him to the vault in the closet where he keeps his pistol and then towards the front door.

You watch his fingers flex as he loads the gun, the motion smooth and effortless. He keeps the gun tucked against himself, his other hand reaching to make sure you’re a safe distance behind him.

He opens the front door and cold fall air blows over the two of you. Pumpkins and decaying leaves line the streets, the pavement wet and dark beneath the street lights.

Leon shuffles along the side of the house, cautiously turning corners until he has a clear sightline towards your window. You hold your breath, expecting some horrible BOW sent to kill you, or even Ada fucking Wong to come out of the shadows.

What you don’t expect is a dorky Halloween skeleton hanging from your neighbours tree, blowing in the wind and slamming into your window.

Leon cackles before you can even react. He spins around to face you, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Is this guy bothering you, babe?”

He puffs out his chest, glancing over his shoulder and fixing the decoration with a scathing gaze. You sigh at his antics but relief washes over you all the same.

You’re back in the house a minute later, warm in bed and waiting for Leon to finish locking his gun away. “I could’ve sworn there was something out there,” you call out to him. 

“It’s all those horror movies we watched.” He tugs his shirt off as he comes back into the room, peeling away a corner of blanket to join you in bed. “Rotting that pretty head of yours.”

“Sorry I made you go all the way outside.”

He tugs you into him, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Don’t be. You know I’ll always protect you.”

You let yourself relax against him. The comfort of having him so close has sleep heavy on your eyes, silence overtaking the room as your breathing starts to even out.

You’re almost asleep in his arms when he chuckles lightly. “Besides,” he says and you can hear the smirk in his voice, “I had a bone to pick with that guy.”

masterlist | kinktober/fall fest masterlist

[lookingforuravity]

CHAPTER 1: WHO I AM

now playing ♫ dreams by fleetwood mac

word count: 530 words

series masterlist | next chap.

“It's a leap of faith to love people and let yourself be loved. It's closing your eyes, stepping off a ledge into nothing, and trusting that you'll fly rather than fall.”

— The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches, Sangu Mandana

As much as I tried to, I couldn't fight off the small grin that made its way onto my face. I loved reading about love, I loved watching love, I loved love.

The bus ride was a bit bumpy, which made it hard for me to read the words of my book but I could make out most of it. My fingers trailed over the pages as I started to skim through the rest of the chapters. My heart would always swell when I'd read about the stolen glances, the longing touches, it made me feel so lightheaded.

But as much as I loved it, seeing how effortless love was in fiction rather than my own life was frustrating, to say the least. Even if something was pulling the characters away from each other, they always found a way to go back to one another. So how come every guy my age was a prick?

It could be that my expectations are too high. I mean, nowadays how many guys on this earth live up to my standards? It must be that I'm searching for something that may not exist, but I can't help it. The thought of someone doing so much for me because they love me made my palms sweaty and butterflies fly in my stomach.

Daydreaming was a bad habit of mine. It wasn't just an occasional thing that would happen now and then. It happened to me multiple times a day, where I'd craft these scenarios in my head that could never happen. In my restless dreams, I'd meet a guy who would give everything and more just to be with me, and I get so lost in these thoughts that I’d forget it's not true.

Because in reality, I've never experienced that. I've never had a boyfriend, no one to kiss me or hug me if I felt sad. I did feel like a bit of a loser, I'm 17 years old and I haven't had my first anything. It has gotten to a point in my life where I've accepted the fact that the love that I craved so deeply was only fiction.

But how could I settle for anything less than what my heart wanted?

I sighed as I rested my head against the window of the bus, my eyes trailing over the scenary as it made its way to my stop. The buzzing of my phone pulled me out of the dream world I created. I lifted up my phone and saw a text from Mina.

I’ve never been one to party. In all honesty, I'd much rather stay home and watch romantic comedy movies while I wallow in self-pity. But can i really meet the man of my dreams if i stay in my cocoon all day?

No, unfortunately, I cannot.

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