#even though i feel there is still more i could talk about

[sceletaflores]

I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR (I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, logan's pov, written with origins!logan in mind, nat veering dangerously closer to a/b/o territory with every passing day, rut cycles, oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, p in v, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, one (1) single use of the word daddy, scent kink, pain kink, breeding kink ofc, knotting (don’t look at me…), squirting, porn w/ plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: don’t look at me…i don’t know how many times i swore up and down i’d never write something like this but i’m a confirmed liar apparently so…here. i mean i just figured i'm in a rut artistically so therefore the only answer is writing logan in a rut physically...i can do what i want and i don't need to explain myself or my horny thoughts. also, i debated posting this in the wake of everything that's gone down over the past two days that is still escalating and will continue to escalate in the coming weeks, but i think everyone could use a little escape from how scary things may seem right now. take a break from all the terrifying news sites and read about logan wanting to breed you :) kisses!

divider by angel @saradika-graphics!

it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...

The burn starts on the walk home from work, a pulse of heat deep in Logan's gut that grows with every step.

It spreads slowly, sinking into his muscles and seeping up his spine as he rounds the last corner, your place less than a block away now.

It caught him off guard this time, an itch burying itself under his skin earlier in the day only to get worse and worse as he worked.

He usually knew the signs well enough to feel them start creeping in, and he was dead sure it wasn't for another few weeks.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Logan’s jaw clenches as he picks up his pace, every nerve ending in his body straining to break into a full blown sprint at the thought of you, all alone and waiting for him.

His fingers curl into tight fists, nails pressing into his palms to ground himself, though it’s hardly enough. The faint scent of you drifts up from his shirt, not even a long day at the lumberyard enough to drown it out.

By the time he reaches your door, his heartbeat is a heavy thud in his ears, syncing with the building ache of desire wracking through his body like the earth rattling boom of a raging thunder storm.

He fumbles through getting his key into the lock, hands unsteady as he tugs the door open with a little more force than necessary and finally steps inside.

The second he closes the door behind him, the heat surges, thrumming through his veins and flooding his chest. Your scent fills the air completely, stronger now, wrapping around him so thick and sweet.

"Darlin'?" His voice comes out rougher than he intends, but he's beyond caring.

Your voice floats from the other room, casual, warm enough to send a jolt through him. Logan drops his axe from his shoulder, leaning it against the door as he starts down the familiar path to your bedroom.

You're spread out on his side of the bed—oblivious, curled up with a book, wrapped in one of the flannels he must have left the last time he stayed over.

Just the sight of you does something to him, like a match dragged against a strike pad, damned on setting everything ablaze.

You glance up, and the soft smile on your lips falters as you catch sight of him.

Logan knows what he must look like, his eyes all dark and predatory, chest heaving as he rakes his hungry gaze over you like a wolf watches a lamb grazing too close to its den.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stalks toward you with a purpose that’s as undeniable as the heat pouring off him in waves.

The book slips from your fingers, forgotten, as you lean back, the small sound of your breath hitching under the weight of his gaze is music to his ears.

Logan pauses at the edge of the bed, towering over you, letting himself drink in the way you look. So soft and serene, like some kind of invitation that begs him closer. His flannel draped loosely over your shoulders–shrouding you in his scent. 

The urge to pounce on you fights against his normal instinct to savor every second, to draw it out until the heat pooling in his gut becomes downright unbearable.

“Been thinkin’ about you all damn day,” he mutters, voice thick and dark as molasses, rough from restraint he’s quickly losing. His knuckles brush against your thigh, then tighten, holding you in place as he leans down, his breath hot against your neck. “Thinkin’ about what I was gonna when I finally got my hands on you.”

Your skin blooms with warmth beneath his touch, and he grins against your neck, the edge of his teeth grazing you just enough to make you squirm. He growls low in his throat, that itch he’s been fighting nearly all day clawing its way up to the surface with a vengeance.

The primal urge inside of him screaming to claim claim claim take take take mate mate mate breed breed breed.

You tilt your head to the side with a soft sigh, freeing up more space for him to nose along your skin. “Is it time?”

Logan's breath catches as your question hangs in the air, thick with anticipation. The soft simplicity of it ignites the wildfire burning in his gut, every ounce of restraint slipping away like sand through his fingers.

“Yeah, baby,” he growls, slipping his fingers under the worn cotton of your shorts, feeling the bare skin beneath. “It’s time.”

You shift, hands going to the buttons of his flannel like you’re going to take it off. Logan stops you, taking your wrists in his free hand.

“Don’t,” he breathes, shaking his head hard enough that his hair flows with it. “Leave it on.”

The thought of you covered in his scent, of his scent mixing with yours to claim you on a level only he can discern sends his mind buzzing.

You look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and something in him cracks wide open. The tenderness of your gaze pulls at him, like a tether pulling him back from the edge, but that heat still smolders in his blood, fierce and unyielding.

Logan runs his thumb along the racing pulse of your wrist before he drops them. His hands venture lower, fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, tracing a deliberate path that makes your body tremble under his touch.

You let out a shuddering breath, the scent of your arousal swirling through the air is enough to make him crave more.

In one rough tug, Logan yanks you towards the edge of the bed as he falls to his knees. Your hips held tight in his hands as he lurches forward, burying his nose in the soft junction where your leg and inner thigh meet.

He inhales deep, greedy lungfuls of your scent. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest, his eyes screwing shut at the sheer amount of too much that courses through him. He feels dizzy with it, high on the pheromones pumping from you in waves.

You’re soaked already, the wet fabric of your shorts melded to the shape of your cunt. He can’t help but run his nose along the slick seam of you, reveling in the way your legs twitch on either side of his head, in the short gasp you let out.

“Logan.” Your voice is nothing but a mewl, pleading and desperate.

“Missed you,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. The edge of need in him makes his hands shake, sliding up your thighs, urging them even further apart as he settles between them.

Logan’s fingers dig into your skin, he lets his thumbs brush up, hooking them into the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs in one sharp yank. He groans at the sight of you completely bare, no underwear.

“Fuck, look at you,” he grates, his thumb coming down to slip through your dripping cunt. Your hole flutters desperately around him, needy little clenches like it’s trying to suck him in. “She’s all ready for me, huh? Been waiting for me to come home and give her some attention?”

“Please,” you whimper, your voice thick with longing, the sound going straight to his head, clouding his thoughts. 

Logan’s pulse races as he watches your body arch instinctively toward his touch, the desperate need in your eyes igniting the raw urges coursing through him.

He can’t deny you; he never could. You’re a feast laid out before him, and he’s starving.

Logan leans closer, letting his tongue flick out to taste you like he’s wanted to since he left for work this morning. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. He licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, savoring the way your body responds, the way your legs tremble and your hips twitch against his mouth, seeking more. “Tastes like fuckin’ heaven, sweetheart.”

The taste of you is intoxicating—sweet and tangy, flooding his senses with every drag and swirl of his tongue.

Logan can’t help but moan against you, the sound vibrating through your body as he dives deeper, his nose nudging against your slick entrance as he shakes his head back and forth like an animal—rubbing the plush skin of your inner thighs red and raw with each rough drag of his coarse beard.

Every flick of his tongue sends a shockwave through you, and he revels in the sounds you make—each whimper, each moan, a siren’s call urging him deeper. He laves his tongue around your clit, sucking it gently, pulling at it with his lips as you writhe beneath him, begging for more. 

He keeps your thighs spread wide, two strong hands pinning them to the mattress so he can devour you just the way you deserve, the sharp dig of your heels into his shoulders only spurs him on.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groans into you, letting his tongue delve deeper, seeking out every bit of sweetness he can coax from you. 

It’s pure sin, each sound you make, each shiver that runs through you as he takes his time, drinking you down like a man starved. 

The ache in him intensifies, his own need growing, pulsing. He’s hard, has been hard since he walked through the front door.

His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, need pulsing in time with each pump of his blood through his shaft, circling around the base, threatening to expand even without the tight grip of your pussy surrounding him. His hips jerk up on their own volition, desperate for any friction.

“Just like that, Logan,” you gasp, voice breathy and trembling with pleasure. 

The way you say his name—raw, desperate—makes his blood run hotter. He grips your thighs tighter, anchoring you to the bed as he drinks you in, wanting to lose himself in you completely.

Logan pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, looking up at you with lust-drunk eyes, drinking in the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your heavy-lidded gaze, the way your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath.

The pulse of his cock intensifies, urging him to speed things along. The base desire of his own instincts is getting harder and harder to ignore under your adoring stare.

He feeds his fingers into your clenching hole with no warning, a satisfied smirk tugging his lips up at your sharp gasp. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the entire lower half of his face still shining with your essence.

Your cunt swallows him, two thick fingers sinking into the velvety heat like it’s nothing.

Logan groans as he feels you clench around him, your walls fluttering and drawing him in deeper. “That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with need. “So fuckin’ ready for me, so ready for daddy’s fingers in your pussy.”

Your mouth drops open in another devastatingly desperate noise, your hands twist his hair roughly, soft breasts rising and falling each time you gasp for air. The dim light of the sunset filters in through the blinds, highlighting the curves of your body, slick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

Every clench of your walls around his fingers shoots a thrill straight to his cock, making him ache with the urge to bury himself inside you. The overwhelming need to take you completely, to mark you and fill you, pulses through his veins until he feels like he might explode.

But he’s not done tasting you yet. Not until you’re practically dripping onto the sheets.

He lowers his mouth back to your core, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers pump faster. The sudden intensity makes your thighs shake around his head, and he grins against you. He wants to see you fall apart—wants to feel it.

“Logan—please, I…” You can barely get the words out, voice breaking as your whole body strains against him, desperate and needy.

The wet slap of his palm against your spit soaked cunt is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, blending with the loud keens that fall from your parted lips. He crooks his fingers, rubbing at that soft, spongy spot inside of you.

“Come on,” he mutters, slick lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “Give it to me, baby. Show me you're ready for my cock."

He drags the sharp edge of his canine against your pulsing clit with barely any pressure, and you're coming.

Your whole body tenses, back bowing off the mattress as you let out a broken cry of his name. The bite of your nails digging into his scalp feels harsh enough to draw blood, a feeble attempt at grounding yourself against the onslaught of pleasure. 

Your trembling thighs tighten around his shoulders, gripping him like a vice as your shaking cunt gushes around his fingers. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as you drench his wrist and chin in your juices.

Even then, he doesn’t let up, fingers pumping relentlessly as he draws out every pulse, every aftershock of your climax, every tiny spray of your release splashing against his wrist. 

He’s lost in the feel of you—slick and trembling under his hands, the scent of your release filling his lungs, thick and intoxicating.

You slump back against the bed, body limp and spent. His own need is a driving, aching force now, clawing at his insides, demanding more.

He slips his fingers free from your dripping heat, dragging them through the wetness coating his chin as he licks them clean with a growl, savoring every taste.

“Good girl,” he purrs, voice thick with pride and satisfaction as he pulls back, leaving your thighs twitching in the wake of his touch. But he still isn’t finished. Not even close.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Logan crawls up the bed, his eyes locked on you, pupils blown with need. He looms over you, hands planting on either side of your head. His cock grinds against you through the rough denim, and you can feel just how thick and hard he is, throbbing through the fabric, demanding to be freed.

With a low groan, he shifts his hips, dragging his bulge along your soaked cunt, sending another jolt of pleasure racing through you. His hands are all over you, gripping your waist, hot and possessive.

“Feel that?” he asks, pressing his lips the wild flutter of your pulse, the need to sink his teeth in the soft skin of your neck raises the hair on the back of his neck. “That’s what you do to me baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock, just aching to be inside you.”

Your arms circle his shoulders, clawing at the fabric off his shirt. “Need you inside me, Logan. Please, want it so bad.”

The pure need lacing your words, your scent calling out to him, the way he can feel the front of his jeans getting soaked through with the slick pouring from your cunt all pull him deeper into the recesses of his hind-brain. 

The mounting desperation to stuff you full of his cock finally reaches a fever pitch.

With a deep growl, Logan rears back as far as he can bear, just enough to tear his shirt over his head before he fumbles with the heavy buckle of his belt to free his aching cock.

He shoves his jeans down, boxers quickly following until there’s nothing separating him from the cool air of your bedroom. His cock springs free, hot and flushed an angry red color, drooling from the tip enough that it drips down to stain the pretty floral sheets of your bed.

Your eyes zero in on him, mouth dropping open at the sight. His cock so heavy it doesn’t curve upward to slap against his stomach, instead it hangs down to sway between his thighs as he moves closer. 

Your legs spread as he nears, slick covered thighs parting to make room for him to slot between them. So obedient, so good, so well trained.

Logan takes himself in his hand, nearly wincing at the blazing temperature of his skin. He secures his hand around the base, squeezing where his knot threatens to pop before he’s even got in you.

He slips the angry head through the folds of your cunt, slapping it against your clit with a wet ‘thwack’ sound. He can feel the way it twitches and shakes, just as desperate as him.

“Look at that,” he mutters darkly, eyes glued to where he’s laid his cock flat against your stomach, leaking pre-come all over your soft skin. “How’s it gonna fit, baby?” He shifts his hips, sawing his length back and forth to see just how deep in you he’ll be.

Your glassy eyes drop, a broken moan passing through your slack lips when you take in the sight. Your hips rise off the bed, grinding your cunt along the seam of his heavy balls, along the prominent vein trailing up the underside.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Logan grits out, eyes hooded and dark as he watches you grind against him. “You’re gonna take it all. Gonna make you feel every last fuckin’ bit of me.”

He groans, gritting his teeth as he presses in further, each inch a battle against the tight, molten heat that grips him like a vice. Your body shudders as he fills you, your slick warmth pulling him deeper and deeper, and he sinks down until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with yours. 

The pressure is mind-numbing, your walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that make his vision blur. He stills for just a second, savoring the way your body stretches around him, hugging him in a way that feels like it was made for him alone.

Logan watches your face as you adjust to the stretch, your brows pinched together, each breath coming fast and shallow, your eyes glazed with pleasure.

Then, your hands come to his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin as you nod your head, ready.

It’s all the confirmation he needs. His hips pull back before he slams in again, the force of it jolting your whole body. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, teeth bared as he muffles a snarl against your skin.

Logan thrusts again, and again, and again, hips setting a merciless pace as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, each little shudder.

His mouth waters with the need to taste, to sink his teeth into your supple skin hard enough to pierce clean through, hard enough to scar.

Sweat drips down the length of his spine, across his brow. It mats down the hair scattered over his chest, his dog tags slick with it when they bounce off his skin with each thrust. The grip of his hands tightens on your hips, it’s taking everything in him to hold back and yet he knows you’ll still bruise tomorrow. 

Pretty hues of dark purples and yellows in the shape of his fingers, ones he’ll catch you admiring in the bathroom mirror, pressing your own fingertips into them to feel the dull ache—to remember this moment.

“Made for this, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark and possessive. “Made to take me, to be mine.”

The words barely leave his mouth before he’s bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives into you, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge.

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as your body trembles under him. “Can–ah!–can feel you in my stomach…”

Your hand drops from his shoulder, slipping between your bodies to rest over the sweaty expanse of your belly. Logan’s eyes follow your path, a feral growl bursting from his chest before he can stop it.

He’s transfixed by it, sure that if he pressed his hand to the soft skin of your lower stomach right over your own, that he’d feel it. Feel the way his cock punches up against your insides, so deep it's like he’s rearranging your guts to make room.

“Fuck.” His voice is nothing but a gravelly rumble, hoarse and dark as midnight. His hips speed up impossibly faster, chasing the feeling of your clenching walls choking the length of his cock so tight he thinks it might snap off at the base.

The flimsy headboard of your bed slams against the wall, creaky mattress springs screaming under his ministrations.

You feel like salvation, like the first rays of light after too many years spent in the dark.

He feels it with each kiss of his cock against your cervix, in the way your lips fit in the junction of his neck, in the red welts your nails leave on the skin of his back. He feels alive, truly alive, for the first time in decades.

“Say my name,” he grates, his hand cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look up at him, lips close enough to taste the heat radiating from his skin. “Tell me who you belong to.”

"Logan," you gasp, your voice breathy, edged with desperation as he pushes you closer to the brink. "Yours. Only yours."

A broken, shaky noise falls from his lips as he buries his face in your neck. He mouths at your skin desperately, presses his nose to where your scent is the strongest. 

Flashes of his release spraying your insides play behind his closed eyes, thoughts of drenching you so thoroughly that it has to take only forcing his hips to slam against the rippling muscle of your ass like you have your own magnetic pull. He feels it building, the slow swell of his knot presses against your folds, ready to burst.

“Come on, honey,” he begs, thumb coming down to rub slow circles over your slick clit. “Come with me, soak my cock. Show me how much you love it, how much you love me.”

Pathetic little uh uh uh’s fall from you with every thrust, broken up only by the breathy whines of his name as he pounds into you hard enough to push your body higher up the mattress. Finally, with a loud roar, he stuffs his growing knot inside of your cunt. 

Logan’s teeth sink into your neck before he can even think twice about it, the thick spray of his come filling you as his hands pull your hips down even further over his cock. He needs to be as deep in you as possible, to press forward until he can’t anymore, until his aching balls are flush with your gushing cunt.

He watches with rapt attention as you come with a loud wail, just from the feeling of his knot slotting into place. The clamp of your thighs over his hips is nearly as tight as the way your cunt seizes around him like it’s scared he’ll leave.

He groans at the over stimulation of your cunt milking his cock. Your slick leaks around the base of him, your shaking hole plugged so full it can only slip along the creamy ring to splash weakly against his thighs and hips.

Logan licks along the spot where his teeth pierced your skin, planting one last kiss before he’s taking you in his arms and rolling onto his back atop the mattress. The plush comforter sticks to his skin, your own sweaty body slipping against his as he tries his best to not jostle you too much while keeping you stuffed full of his cock.

He holds you to his chest until your breathing evens out, until your body stops trembling on top of his, until you’re nosing along the column of his neck.

“Logan?” Your voice is tiny, hoarse and scratchy. He feels your hand drawing absent minded shapes along the skin of his stomach. A circle, a star, a figure eight, a heart.

“Yeah baby?” he says, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, eyes slipping shut at the content feeling that spreads through him.

“Love you,” you murmur, voice soft but sure, the words slipping out without hesitation.

It’s the first time you’ve said it today, and hearing those three words from you sends warmth flooding through him.

Logan shifts slightly, pulling you even closer, his hand moving to the back of your head, cradling you with a kind of tenderness he used to think he’d never be capable of. “I love you too, darlin’. More than you know.”

Your body relaxes against him, the lingering effects of your shared intimacy still buzzing through your limbs, but now there’s a sense of peace, of safety, and a deeper connection.

He can feel the way your fingers curl lightly against his skin, the quiet smile that must be tugging at your lips as you press a kiss to the side of his neck.

And in that moment, with everything settled around him, Logan knows that this, right here, is everything.

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[theonottsbxtch]

FORGOTTEN BIRTHDAY | OP81

an: happy birthday @iimplicitt everyone go and wish her a happy birthday! this is a little piece for you that will make you sadder that you're not in a relationship with oscar but it's a gift from me to you, ily <3

wc: 3.5k

The morning sunlight seeped through the thin, linen curtains, casting soft patterns on the wall, and she stirred, blinking her eyes open as she felt the familiar warmth against her back. Oscar’s arm was wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, his steady breathing a gentle rhythm against her neck. She could feel his lips brushing soft, lazy kisses along her shoulder, the way he always did when he thought she was still asleep.

For a moment, she simply lay there, soaking in the quiet closeness of it all. The fresh scent of Oscar’s cologne and the warmth of his body made her feel safe, cherished. She allowed herself to close her eyes again, smile lingering on her lips as he tightened his hold just slightly, burying his face into her hair, his fingers gently tracing patterns along her arm.

It was her birthday.

She’d woken up with a flutter of excitement, the way she always had since she was a little girl. There was something magical, something undeniably special about the feeling of a day that was just yours. And now, waking up like this, wrapped up in the warmth and the love of someone who’d stolen her heart—that feeling should’ve been even stronger.

But as the minutes ticked by and he continued to kiss her in that quiet, thoughtful way he did each morning, not a single word was said.

Maybe he’s just distracted, she thought, feeling the slight tug of disappointment. After all, the season was coming to an end, and she knew how focused he got, especially in the days before a race. Formula 1 demanded so much of him, and she respected that. He’d been there for her in ways she hadn’t even dared to hope for, bringing more joy and care into her life than she could have ever asked for.

But... not even a whisper of "happy birthday"? Not a hint, not a knowing look in his eyes?

She felt him shift behind her, his hand slipping up to brush a strand of hair from her cheek, his thumb tracing her jawline with that same tender familiarity. His lips pressed gently against her neck, a sleepy hum in his throat. He felt so close, so utterly devoted, and yet...

He’s just busy, she told herself, letting out a soft sigh. It’s probably the last thing on his mind.

She sighed softly, stretching in his arms, and he pulled her a little closer, his lips brushing her forehead in that sleepy, casual way of his. His eyes were still half-closed, hair tousled, but there was a lazy smile on his face as he woke up with her.

“Morning,” Oscar murmured, voice rough with sleep, his thumb tracing slow circles along her hip.

“Morning,” she whispered back, trying to keep her tone as normal as possible. She didn’t want him to sense that she’d been holding her breath, waiting for him to say… well, something. A small “Happy Birthday, love,” maybe, or even just a knowing smile, some hint that he remembered. But he hadn’t. And it was clear now that he wouldn’t.

“So,” he yawned, shifting his legs under the blankets, “today’s kinda busy. Lando and I have this thing at the sponsor’s studio. Some shoot for a promo video, I think. They’re calling it an ‘inside look’ at race prep or something, but really it’s just us standing around talking, I’m pretty sure.” He chuckled, rubbing his eyes. “They’ve got us doing all this media stuff lately.”

“Oh, yeah?” she replied, forcing herself to smile. “You’ll be a natural.” She reached up to run her fingers through his hair, hoping he’d look at her, maybe even catch her eye and give her a hint that he hadn’t forgotten after all.

But Oscar only nodded, giving her a sleepy grin as he leaned back, stretching his arms above his head. “And you? Got a day at the office, right?” he asked casually, as though it was any other day of the year. “What’s on your agenda?”

She took a breath, trying to keep her voice light. “Yep, just the usual. A couple meetings, and I’ll probably have to cover for someone at the desk. I’ll be out by five.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Sounds like a good day. We’ll both be back around the same time, then.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling faintly. “Guess so.”

She got out of bed, pulling her robe around herself and heading to the bathroom, where she stared at her reflection, trying to shove away the hollow feeling that was starting to settle in her chest. She should’ve been used to this by now, she told herself. Oscar’s schedule was demanding; he barely had time to stop and breathe some days, let alone keep track of something like a birthday. Besides, she knew he cared for her deeply—his warmth in the mornings, his texts at odd hours when he thought of her, all the small ways he showed her mattered so much more than one day of the year.

But as she brushed her teeth, tied her hair back, and headed into the wardrobe to pick out her work clothes, she couldn’t quite shake the disappointment. She wanted to laugh at herself for caring so much. It was just a birthday.

Yet the more she tried to pretend she was fine, the more her heart kept slipping. She threw on her blouse and slacks, fixing her makeup with hands that were just a little less steady than usual, and made her way back into the bedroom, where he was now scrolling through his phone, probably checking the texts from his manager.

“Have a good day, okay?” Oscar said as she slipped on her shoes. He gave her a small, warm smile as he leaned over, pressing one last kiss to her cheek, his hand resting on her shoulder as if to linger with her a moment longer.

“Yeah. You too,” she murmured, giving him a faint smile as she grabbed her bag, willing herself not to linger, not to let herself feel anything other than grateful for the morning they’d shared. She gave him one last glance, catching his gaze as he looked at her, that usual warmth in his eyes. And then she turned, heading out the door, whispering to herself that it didn’t matter. It wasn’t important.

The office was buzzing when she walked in. As soon as she stepped through the door, her coworkers greeted her with bright smiles, some even standing up from their desks to call out, "Happy birthday!" There was a small pile of gifts on her desk, wrapped in cheerful paper and bows, and a few balloons taped to her chair. She felt herself smiling genuinely for the first time that morning, warmth flooding her chest as she set her bag down.

“Oh my gosh, you guys,” she laughed, cheeks flushing as she picked up a card signed by everyone. “This is too much.”

“Nonsense!” her friend and desk-mate chimed in, appearing at her side with a cupcake topped with a single, brightly coloured candle. “You deserve all of this and more. We all know you make this place actually run.”

She chuckled, feeling the warmth and kindness radiating from the team. As she took in their gifts—a handmade scarf from the coworker who crocheted on her lunch breaks, a small box of her favourite teas, a lovely journal for her ever-growing stack of notes—she felt touched, genuinely happy. Her coworkers hadn’t forgotten; in fact, they’d gone out of their way to make her feel special.

But there was still that empty space in her chest. A quiet, lingering ache as she glanced at her phone, hoping to see a message pop up on her screen. Maybe Oscar would text her between shoots, or send her a voice message—just a quick “Happy birthday” or even a simple smiley face. Something that would tell her he’d thought of her.

Yet as the hours passed, her phone stayed stubbornly silent, aside from the usual work notifications and a few birthday messages from friends. She knew that he didn’t text much during the day, that his shoots and meetings usually stretched longer than he liked to admit. But part of her had hoped that, just today, he might make an exception.

At lunch, her friends surprised her with a small cake in the break room. They sang to her, a little off-key but with a lot of heart, and she found herself laughing along, feeling incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such warmth and care. She tried to push aside her thoughts of him, to keep her mind off the absence of his message. He’s busy, she told herself, taking a bite of cake as her friends chatted around her. It’s not a big deal.

Still, every time she felt her phone buzz in her bag, her heart leapt, just for a moment, and each time, she couldn’t help but feel the sting of disappointment as she realised it wasn’t Oscar. It was as if her heart was doing a balancing act, teetering between gratitude for the people around her and that quiet ache that her mind kept insisting wasn’t fair to feel.

As she stepped out of the office and into the cool evening air, she felt the weight of the day pressing down on her. She’d kept a brave face, laughed at all the right moments, and soaked up every bit of love her friends and coworkers had poured into her. But now, alone with her thoughts, she felt the ache returning, stronger than before. She wanted nothing more than to go home, slip into a hot bath, and just let herself feel it all—the disappointment, the loneliness, the hurt she’d been pretending wasn’t there.

As she walked up to her building, she noticed his car wasn’t parked out front. Somehow, that felt like a small blessing. She was grateful for a few quiet moments to herself, to feel everything she’d been holding back all day.

The apartment was dark and quiet when she stepped inside, the air still. She kicked off her shoes, leaving them haphazardly by the door, and shrugged her bag off her shoulder, not bothering to turn on any lights as she made her way down the hallway. She was so drained, and all she wanted was the familiar comfort of their room, a place where she could let her guard down completely.

When she pushed open the door to the bedroom, though, she stopped short.

There, spread across the bed, was a beautiful assortment of gifts wrapped in elegant, colourful paper, with a cluster of balloons tied to the foot of the bed. She blinked, her eyes taking in the soft glow of fairy lights that had been draped over the headboard. Each balloon had a photograph attached—moments from their time together, candid shots from races, vacations, cosy evenings at home. Her heart clenched at the sight, an overwhelming mix of disbelief and relief filling her chest.

And then, as if on cue, Oscar stepped out from the closet, a tiny cupcake in his hand, a single candle flickering on top. His face was lit by the candle’s glow, a quiet, tender smile on his lips as he looked at her, his eyes warm and full of a love that nearly undid her.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered, voice soft but full of so much feeling that it made her knees weak.

She stared at him, her eyes filling with tears as she let out a shaky laugh, feeling a rush of emotions she could barely contain. “I thought… I thought you forgot,” she managed, her voice breaking as she took a step toward him, her hands trembling. “I thought you were too busy, that… that you didn’t remember.”

Oscar’s face softened, and he closed the distance between them, setting the cupcake on the nightstand as he reached out to pull her into his arms. “Forget?” he murmured, holding her close, one hand coming up to stroke her hair as she let out a small, choked sob into his shoulder. “How could I ever forget your birthday? I’ve been planning this for weeks.”

She clung to him, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as she finally let the tears fall, letting herself feel everything she’d been holding back. He held her tightly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back, letting her release every ounce of doubt and hurt she’d felt throughout the day.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered between soft sobs. “I just… I thought maybe with everything going on, it slipped your mind. I didn’t want to feel that way, but I… I couldn’t help it.”

Oscar pulled back just enough to look at her, brushing away a tear from her cheek with his thumb, his gaze filled with understanding. “I get it,” he said gently. “I wanted it to be a surprise, to make it perfect. But if I’d known it would make you feel like this…” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering there as he held her close. “I would’ve done it differently.”

She shook her head, a tearful laugh escaping her. “No, this is perfect. It’s… it’s everything. I just didn’t expect it, and I guess I didn’t realise how much I wanted it.”

He smiled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You deserve to feel special today. Every day, really. I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise.”

She smiled up at him, feeling the weight on her chest finally lifting as she took in the warmth in his eyes, the quiet thoughtfulness of every detail around them. Oscar reached over, picked up the cupcake, and held it between them, nodding toward the candle.

“Make a wish,” he murmured.

She looked at him, her heart swelling as she realised that her wish had already come true. But still, she closed her eyes, letting herself make a small, quiet wish before blowing out the candle.

When she opened her eyes, he was still looking at her, his own gaze soft and full of a promise she could feel without words.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, her fingers tracing over the colourful wrapping paper, feeling almost shy with him watching her so intently. It was like every small, careful detail had been planned with her in mind, each gift waiting patiently for her to unwrap it.

The first package she reached for was a familiar shape—a shoebox. She unwrapped it slowly, her heart catching in her throat as she lifted the lid to reveal a pristine pair of black Dr. Martens. She laughed, a soft, delighted sound, running her fingers over the leather. “You remembered,” she murmured, looking up at him with a grateful smile. “I was saying just last week that mine were about ready to fall apart.”

“I know,” Oscar grinned, hands in his pockets as he watched her. “I was pretty sure you’d been trying to ignore the hole in the sole. Figured it was about time for an upgrade.”

She smiled, warmth spreading through her chest as she slipped the boots aside, reaching for the next gift. It was a neatly wrapped package, smaller and heavier, with an unmistakable shape. She tore away the paper, her breath catching when she saw the cover—the first book in her favourite series, one she’d read so many times that the copy on her shelf was practically falling apart. But as she opened the book, her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, her fingers tracing over the author’s signature scrawled inside the cover, a small message addressed just to her. She flipped through the rest of the books in the series, each one signed with a personal note. “How… how did you manage this?”

Oscar sat down beside her, looking a little smug but mostly just pleased with her reaction. “You’ve talked about those books more times than I can count,” he said with a small shrug. “I figured I’d reach out to the author’s team, see if I could make it happen. Took a little convincing, but… worth it, I think.”

She looked up at him, eyes shining with gratitude and awe, feeling like her heart might just burst. “It’s… it’s perfect,” she said softly, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

He smiled, brushing a thumb over her hand as she picked up the final box, smaller and elegantly wrapped in deep blue paper. She carefully peeled it open, lifting the lid to find a delicate necklace nestled inside. It was simple and beautiful—a silver pendant with both of their initials engraved on it, entwined together in a tiny, subtle script. Her heart swelled as she held it up, running her fingers over the cool metal.

As she admired it, he reached up and pulled something out from under his shirt—a matching necklace, with the same delicate initials. The pendant hung just over his heart, a quiet, constant reminder of her that he must have been wearing all day.

Her chest tightened, and she felt a tear slip down her cheek as she took it all in, the thoughtfulness, the care he’d put into every detail. She reached over, cupping his face with trembling hands as her voice broke.

“You wore it all day,” she whispered, her heart so full she could barely speak.

Oscar smiled, reaching up to cover her hand with his. “Of course I did. You’re with me everywhere I go,” he murmured, his voice soft. “No matter how crazy the schedule, or how many days I’m away… I wanted you to know that you’re always with me.”

She melted, letting herself fall into his embrace, her head tucked under his chin as he held her close. She felt like everything she’d worried about, every bit of doubt that had crept in throughout the day, had simply vanished, replaced by a love so real and constant she didn’t know how she could have ever doubted it.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her cheek.

He kissed the top of her head, his fingers threading gently through her hair. “I love you, too,” he said, holding her tightly, as if he’d never let her go. “Happy birthday, love.”

She pulled back from his embrace just enough to look up at him, her eyes shining with warmth and gratitude. Oscar met her gaze, his hand lifting to brush a stray tear from her cheek, his fingers lingering softly on her skin. And then, without a word, he leaned in, closing the distance between them as his lips met hers in a slow, tender kiss.

It was soft at first, a gentle, lingering touch filled with all the emotion of the night. But then his hand slid up to the back of her neck, pulling her just a little closer, and the kiss deepened, becoming something more—a quiet, passionate promise that said everything words couldn’t. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as she poured every bit of her love and gratitude into that moment, feeling his warmth surround her, grounding her in a way that only he could.

When they finally pulled back, breathless but smiling, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, pressing one last soft kiss to her forehead. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Let me run you a bath. You’ve had a long day, and you deserve to relax.”

But she shook her head, her hand slipping into his as she gave him a gentle smile. “No, not now,” she whispered, and he paused, a look of confusion crossing his face.

“Are you sure?” he asked, tilting his head, his thumb brushing the back of her hand.

She smiled softly, tugging him gently toward the bed. “I just want to cuddle,” she said, her voice a quiet, warm confession.

Understanding dawned in his eyes, and his expression softened as he nodded, his lips curving into a smile. Oscar climbed into bed with her, pulling the covers over them both as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. She snuggled into his chest, her head resting just over his heart, listening to its steady, comforting rhythm as his hands traced soft patterns along her back.

They lay together in the quiet, wrapped up in each other, their legs tangled and their breaths in sync. He held her with a gentle strength, his fingers weaving through her hair as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. It was perfect, this quiet intimacy, as they sank deeper into each other’s warmth, finding solace in the simple, tender closeness.

“I don’t need anything else,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his chest. “Just this.”

Oscar tightened his hold on her, his lips brushing her temple. “Then this is exactly what we’ll do,” he whispered.

the end.

[p1utofairy]

★ WHICH COMIC BOOK COUPLE ARE YOU AND YOUR PERSON MOST LIKE?

NOTE — love and light my babies ⭐️🧿 take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. for entertainment purposes only. your feedback is always so greatly appreciated, enjoy!

— PILE 1.

channeled couple(s) → batman x catwoman + jean grey x cyclops.

your person is a very hands-on, actively involved and dynamic individual who thrives in fast-paced environments. they’re very resourceful and can turn a negative into a positive in the blink of an eye – a true problem solver if you will. they learn things/adapt quicker than most and i feel like a lot of people regard them as an amazing friend. your person is very inquisitive and always wants to know more. once they complete a task, they’re on to the next; it can be hard to pin them down for long periods of time. they might move around a lot physically (could have OCD) but i’m more so picking up that they’ve lived here, there and everywhere.

they’re always on the go! i’m also picking up that your person is a little bit of a control freak but gosh they can't help it; they truly love to lead and be of service. you’re gonna find this so hot lowkey lol which is funny because i think you typically go for someone that let’s you control things and have the upper hand but with this person it’s not like that. their sense of control is different though — it’s not possessive, like “you’re mine!” or “no, you can’t go out wearing that!” instead, it’s more about seeing you struggle with something and insisting on helping you with it. you might say, “no, i’ve got it,” but they’ll respond, “here, just let me…” you get frustrated because you just said you could handle it, but there they go, taking it from your hands and easing the stress and pain you were carrying. wow, that was such a descriptive scenerio but it just randomly came to me lol. it’s giving 6H energy!

11:11 on the clock i’m blushing hehe your person is super sweet and chivalrous it’s very charming, pile 1. don’t even get me started on their physique WHEW you’re gonna love their arms/biceps…your person might even have a lot of tattoos (i’m seeing sleeve tats) and i can just see you fighting the urge to playfully bite them lol. they could be very athletic and go to the gym a lot. now switching gears, the comic book couples that similarly mirrors your connection is jean grey x cyclops + batman and catwoman. some of y’all might be rolling your eyes at the mention of jean and scott (my wolverine girlies i’m talking to you) but HERE ME OUT and let me cook!

i feel like you’re more of a wanderer and don’t care to be as involved as your person is, if that makes sense? gypsy by fleetwood mac just started playing in my mind. trials and tribulations throughout your life might have caused you to turn inwards, and you feel unsure about what it is your supposed to be doing/where life is exactly taking you. your presence is more calm and still and your person is again, more hands on and out there. like jean grey, you are very clever and passionate but there’s a temperamental side to you. you might have strong air sign placements in your chart because i feel that you’re very rational about your emotions – sometimes to a fault. i think you hold back a lot of the times (especially when it comes to love) in fear of hurting other people’s feelings or just being misunderstood. some of you could have people-pleasing tendencies. your person gives that scott summers vibe because their actions are typically driven by a sense of duty rather than a desire to please others.

whether you know it or not, you wield a lot of power and sometimes i think people take your kindness for weakness. what your person is really going to admire about you is how intentional you are especially when it comes to giving/receiving love. you are so gentle and kind with your person – soooo doting and attentive. you two deadass have a telepathic connection cause when one person is feeling off, the other one can sense it. your person is also tryna be funny and say that you’re used to dealing with logans (wolverine) but they’re coming to change that. LMAOOOO your person is funny as fuck if you couldn’t already tell.

you both compliment each other so well, spiritually and physically. that’s why i also channeled batman x catwoman because y’alls vibe just gives that. y’all know those crazy ass tiktok/IG comments when people are like i need to see the tape PLS yeah…y’all evoke that reaction from people. you both find each other incredibly sexy like the sexual tension between you both is gonna be insaneeeee. i’m also sensing a bit of a bratty energy coming from your end in terms of the attention your person gets lol they might be very sought after. it’s reminding of the ending scene of ‘the batman’ when selena is urging batman to come with her and part of him is superrrr tempted but duty calls. i promise you that your person only wants you, though. like i’m being so deadass when i say that they’re literally gonna be devoted to you.

OTHER CHANNELED MESSAGES —

“i work alone”, you might be used to the wolverine types but what you really need is a scott summers, back to black by amy winehouse, spotless mind by jhené aiko, maneater by nelly furtado, dylan, slayyyter, dua lipa, ESFJ, ISTJ, resemblance to callum turner, 333, sagittarius, 6H cancer, capricorn rising, 555.

— PILE 2.

channeled couple(s) → daredevil x elektra + rogue x gambit.

oooo right off the bat i’m hearing stand still by sabrina claudia. you’re so unaware that we're feeling, the same thing, the same damn thing…time is standing still and why are we still here? interesting, pile 2. very interesting! you and your person are more alike than you would think. from the outside you both appear very different, but energetically you both are sooo compatible. i’m hearing “from different worlds” and being drawn to the movie aladdin lol maybe that’s one of your favorite disney movies or your person’s? i think that’s why i was picking up on elektra x daredevil because it’s like…you and your person’s upbringing differed in a way but there’s a common ground in terms of how it’s shaped you both. one of you is more forward and hasty while the other is more reluctant and calculated.

you feel very confined and limited…like your environment is just so repetitive and boring. you’ve been hoping for something new to manifest – and you feel like you’re on the brink of it, it’s like you can almost reach out and touch it. for most of you, this is in regards to your connection with this person but for other’s it’s a job/traveling opportunity of some sort. you could possibly live in a very small town or somewhere that doesn’t have a lot to offer/keep you occupied. you’re about to see some progress sooner than you think, pile 2. give it about 1-3 months and watch how the magic happens! sagittarius season could be very significant for you.

your person is going to come into your life HOT and HEAVY, omg. you’re gonna be like wait wtf when did you get here?! nobody’s supposed to be here by deborah cox is playing in my head now – i’ve tried that love thing for the last time…my heart says no, no! nobody's supposed to be here…but you came along and changed my mind. LMAOOOO well pile 2 get ready cause your person is gonna sweep you off your damn feet. now it makes sense why i channeled rogue x gambit for you two because it’s like you’re taking of risk of some sort…the risk being your heart. trusting someone romantically is like risky business for you.

you’re so used to being able to predict outcomes and know what’s going to happen next, but with this person uhn uhn things are not so black and white. actually, there’s a lot of grey areas and that’s what’s going to scare you yet intrigue you about this person. you’re so rogue coded, awww. rogue has the ability to absorb the powers and memories of others through touch, so that makes her very guarded and reluctant to form close relationships. gambit is intrigued by her, but she is wary of him. i see this being similar to you and your person’s interactions…there might be an initial hesitation on your end but there’s an undeniable chemistry between the two of you!

your person is similar to gambit who is a smooth-talking, charming, and rough around the edges type of character. he’s very drawn to rogue’s beauty and strength (and similar to you) her self-imposed isolation and emotional baggage makes her hesitant to open up to him. i’m definitely picking up on the slow-burn trope for y’all, pile 2. although you really want this connection you might feel held back by self-doubt and fear intimacy/vulnerability. you’ve gotta work through this slowly but surely, my loves. it’s not easy but it’s necessary because this person absolutely loves you, pile 2. they’d put everything on the line for you if they had to.

just like gambit, this person will always be deeply in love with you no matter how much you try to shut them out or act like your feelings aren’t as deep as they really are. i also just want to mention that your person has such a way with words like UGH the way they say things/articulate themselves is gonna have you going feral lol they’re so knowledgeable and persuasive. it doesn’t help that they’re fine as fuck too lol you’re gonna be mentally shadow-boxing your anxiety whenever you’re around them because they’re just soooo damn charming fr!

i’m also being drawn to one of the biggest themes of rogue and gambit’s relationship which is rogue not being able to physically touch him without absorbing his memories and abilities – which is something that frightens her, not only because it could harm him but also because it’s something that strips away everything from the person she’s touching. now y’alls situation is obviously not that dramatic, but i am picking up that some of you that picked this pile could be virgins or celibate. i feel like the wait will make you both become even closer.

OTHER CHANNELED MESSAGES —

you make wanna by usher, “i never thought this was possible”, bit of a wild card (no pun intended), fiery personality, leo/aquarius placements, you’re their best friend, love on the brain by rihanna.

— PILE 3.

channeled couple → wanda maximoff x vision.

you and your person are too stinkin’ cute, pile 3. lmaooo i know that sounds so corny and cheesy but your person puts you in this kind of mood. the sun is shining sooo bright as i’m writing this. it’s like you light up their life and vice versa. you remind them of a warm summer day at the beach where you’re free to just roam around, have ice cream and relax. you’re like a breath of fresh air for this person. your person can be extremely sappy (in the best way possible) like i see them randomly just grabbing you and spinning you around or twirling you lol they’re like…always in a good mood. they might like to sing or dance mhm i get the vibe that they have a CD collection like they really love music sooo much! they will love to cook for you as well awww they’re so considerate, pile 3. you guys are definitely giving that old school cutesy romantic 60s couple vibe for sure, i could cry!

i channeled wanda maximoff x vision for a reason i see. i feel like when you first meet your person you’re going to be going through alot in your own life and i’m not necessarily getting that it’s anything bad but it seems like you’re either working through something or towards something. this could be you confronting some childhood trauma and/or previous relationship baggage. it might also be that you're not quite where you imagined you'd be in life right now, or maybe you're feeling a bit unsure about your current path. whatever the reason, your person will likely sense that you're feeling a little lost, and they'll pick up on that shift in your energy. you might meet your person while you’re traveling or outside of wherever you live (i’m hearing out the country for some) and i see you two forming a very close friendship first. infrunami by steve lacy is coming to mind – girl, you're the one i want, you’re the one i need…i’m beggin' you, please. can you come back to me? 'cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me. hm for some of you this person could be a mutual or you somehow know them through your friends? if not, there just seems to be a sense of familiarity between the two of you.

i’m hearing “wow what a small world!” so tbh you could meet this person through one of your friends lol now i’m hearing best friend’s brother by victoria justice PLEASE that’s so random but on brand. also i’m picking up that your person could wear glasses? they are very inquisitive and can read you like a book, pile 3.

like vision, your person can pick up on your emotions, sensing when something is off even if you don’t express it. though vision is a synthezoid, his close connection to wanda and his time with the avengers allowed him to empathize deeply with human emotions. over time, his understanding of these feelings went beyond his programming, and his love for wanda amplified his ability to sense when she’s in distress. he offers comfort to her when she's struggling with her powers or grief. i feel like this relationship will be therapeutic for the both of you! you scratch their back, they’ll scratch yours.

you are similar to wanda in the sense that you can alter/create your reality – YOU have the power, but you have to believe it first. you doubt yourself a lot and create a lot of chaos within your mind because you can’t decide whether or not you should do something or if you’re even making the right decision. i think this has a lot to do with your childhood/upbringing, you stay in the shadows instead of being in the spotlight. that’s the problem, pile 3. i think you’re afraid of taking up space in fear of what others might say or think. there’s this sense of imposter syndrome. in order to bring this relationship into fruition you’ve gotta trust and believe in yourself, my loves. you’re an absolute badass – pop out and act like it! 10:10 on the clock. stop getting so caught up in the idea of what you think should be perfect. nothing and no one is perfect and ironically that’s the beauty of life lol shit ain’t always sweet and that’s okay. the world keeps spinning. it might not seem like it now but you will be more than okay, trust me! your person can’t wait to be in your orbit eeek i’m giddy at the thought of you two connecting. you don’t even realize it but your spirit guides are working overtime to make this connection happen hehe it starts with you though, babe. buckle up cause your person is ready. are you down to ride?

OTHER CHANNELED MESSAGES —

michael, breakfast at tiffany’s, NYC, month of may, one of the girls by the weeknd ft. lily rose depp & jennie, looks like MBJ, leo, 7H, 6H/virgo venus.

[hoshifighting]

WARNINGS: jihoon dealing with an extremely horny reader, guided masturbation, smut, fingering, mentions of body fluids (cum/precum), humiliation, crying, overstimulation, lots of dirty talk, mentions of penetrative sex, teasing, clit stimulation, g'spot stimulation, degrading.

@jihootea ALWAYS planting jihoon brainrot on meeee!! now i cant stop picturing how jihoon would deal with his partner when she's drop-head horny… he would be a MEANIE, like, no mercy. AND he can almost smell the horniness from you. even though he's turned back with his producing chair.

except you know, know, he’s aware. he can probably feel your eyes drilling into him, can hear the way you’re struggling to sit still, thighs rubbing together just enough to keep your sanity hanging by a thread.

and then, without even looking at you, he says, “you good over there? squirming like you’ve got a problem or something.” his tone is so casual it makes you want to throw something. it’s not even a question—it’s pure fucking tease, dripping with this smugness that makes you want to melt and scream at the same time.

“jihoon…” you whisper begging, but he just lets out this tiny scoff, like he’s already bored of you. he leans back in his chair, finally giving you his attention, eyebrow cocked like he’s waiting for you to entertain him.

“what?” he drawls, eyes sliding down to your legs, then back up to your flushed face. “you slut can’t keep that little thing between your legs under control?”

it’s embarrassing, the way he says it, like he’s talking about some little pet that you can’t handle. you bite your lip, trying not to combust as he looks you up and down, arms crossed, manspreading, all arrogant and completely unimpressed.

“if you’re that desperate,” he says, eyes narrowing, “why don’t you show me? right here...”

your mouth goes dry, heart slamming against your ribcage. but you can’t ignore the way his voice gets lower, like he’s waiting, daring you.

your hand’s barely down there inside your shorts, fingers brushing against the clit, when you hear him snap, “who said you could keep those on?” his tone’s rougher than usual. you’re quick to slide them off, hooking your thumbs in the waistband and slipping out of your shorts and panties in one go like they were one piece only. you toss them at him with a grin, watching his eyes light up satisfied as he catches them, raising an eyebrow at you.

he takes the panties from the bundle and brings them up to his face, holding your gaze the whole time. smirking. the way he watches you squirm, vulnerable in a way you never quite do with anyone else. it’s him. “getting all shy now? didn’t think you had it in you.”

you swallow, cheeks burning, but you don’t drop his gaze, even as he tilts his head.

“are you waiting for permission or something?” he snaps, that edge back in his voice. “didn’t i tell you to touch yourself? whats the hold-up? are you just that pathetic that you need me to walk you through it?”

you pout, voice coming out soft and whiny, “aren’t you going to help me?”

“oh, no, sweetheart. if you’re that desperate, you’ll just have to do it yourself. all by yourself, since you’re such a big girl already.”

your hand slides between your legs, finding that slick, that had been bothering you for hours already, you shiver as your fingers spread it over your folds, teasing your clit. his ears twitch up almost like a cat when he hears how wet you are.

“barely even touching yourself and already making a mess. and here i thought you had some self-control.” he drawls.

you whimper, biting your lip as you roll your fingers over your clit, feeling that ache, that need, building up. but he’s just watching, eyes raking over every inch of you with that judgmental gaze, making you feel ten times more exposed than you are.

“is that the best you can do?” he sneers. “pathetic. thought you wanted this, but you’re just playing around, aren’t you? can’t even get yourself off without me telling you what to do.”

you let out a frustrated whine, pressing harder, slipping a finger inside, anything to relieve that pressure, but it’s like his voice is right there, mocking you, judging every little movement.

“keep going,” he says, voice so cold that makes your skin shiver up. “maybe if you try a little harder, you’ll actually be worth watching. spread that pussy f’me.”

your fingers obey trembling as you slide them out to spread yourself for him, he sees the mouthwatering cream being expelled from the tight little hole. “look at that,” he sneers, tilting his head as he takes in the view. “so messy. you’re really that worked up, babe? got yourself all soaked just sitting here like a needy little slut.”

your breath hitches, a moan slipping out despite yourself as you finally push two fingers in, hips bucking, feeling that burn. his eyes gleam, watching the way you struggle to keep quiet, and he smiles, soooo pleased.

“aw, you’re whining already?” he coos, tone mocking, like he’s talking to some helpless, needy thing. “that desperate? thought you could handle yourself, but look at you—just a mess on my couch. tell me… wishing it was my fingers instead?”

you can’t help the whimper that escapes, hips lifting, and he catches it, eyes sparking.

“oh?” he chuckles, leaning in slightly. “or is it my cock you want, huh? that’s it, isn’t it? poor baby, too worked up to even admit it.”

the moan that slips from your lips is helpless, your back arching as you dig your fingers deeper, feeling the heat coil tighter. his smirk widens.

“then show me how bad you want it,” he murmurs, voice dropping lower. “curl those fingers up, just like that… think you can even get yourself close to how good i’d make you feel?”

you nod, whimpering as you obey, curling your fingers up to hit that weak spot, feeling the way it makes your toes curl and your thighs tremble.

your warning slips out in a shaky breath, “ji… wanna cum,” as you meet his gaze, eyes pleading. he watches you, eyes heavy hunger, one hand squeezing his length through his pants, jaw tight as he throws his head back for a second, like he’s savoring the sight of you so worked up.

when he looks at you again. “go on,” he coos, smirking as he tilts his head. “didn’t last long, did you?”

you feel your body tremble, hips jerking as your hand moves faster, fingers slipping inside as you cry out, not caring anymore how loud you are, a mess being created on his studio's sofa. but just as you start to come down, just as you think it’s over, he speaks again.

“who said you could stop?” he sneers, eyes narrowing as he watches you with that amused smirk. “you’re not done yet. keep those fingers moving. keep going for me.”

a whimper escapes your lips as your overstimulated body obeys, fingers shaky but pushing in deeper, pressing against that sensitive spot again. your hips buck up involuntarily, every nerve screaming pleasure giving you a new ache that has you gasping.

“jihoon, but—” you try, voice breaking, but he cuts you off, voice sharp.

“if you don’t keep going, there’s no chance in hell i’ll give you what you want.”

you bite your lip, a desperate moan slipping out as you force yourself to keep moving. your fingers finally slip out, drenched and trembling, but instinct pulls you to the sensitive bud, fingers barely brushing over it as you start drawing slow, shaky circles. the touch is too much, making your eyes squeeze shut as your legs shake on either side, instinctively trying to close, but you keep them open, fighting against every urge to stop.

your face frown and you feel a hot prickle at the corners of your eyes, your voice breaking, choked, as you mutter, “ji… can’t… i can’t take it anymore…” your lower belly clenches, your body spasming at every soft circle you trace, a tear slips down your cheek, face flushed and damp, as you shudder, fingers shaking as they push you to that razor-thin edge again.

he leans forward, catching every broken sound, every little sob, his smirk widening as he coos, “oh, poor thing… already crying?” his words make you shake even harder, your body backstabbing you as you keep going, fingers pressed firmly on that nerve.

your thighs are burning from holding yourself open, your sobs grow louder, broken and dumb, and he’s just sitting back, arms crossed, his forearm muscles popping, veins standing out as he leans forward, eyes fixed on every shaky fingering.

“isn’t this what you wanted, slut?”

a whimper escapes you, eyes blurry with tears as you nod, “j-jihoon… can’t…” your hips buck up, trying to escape your own hand.

“keep going thought you were horny. or were you just pretending?”

another whimper, tears spilling down your cheeks as you press down on that sensitive bundle of nerves, every little touch pushing you higher, closer to that edge you’re not sure you can survive again. “please… too much…,” you cry, voice cracked.

“too much? aww poor baby...” he taunts, shaking his head slowly.

your insides twist, so intense you’re not sure where one ends and the other begins. you curl over yourself. each touch making your vision blur. nerves fried until you’re nothing but a quivering, soaked mess on the couch, every last bit of strength melting out of you. you don’t stop until he finally murmurs,

“good girl. that’s enough.”

you collapse, body going limp, fingers sliding away as you fall back, every limb heavy and useless. your chest heaves, cheeks flushed, face still damp with tears, and hes on you in a second, leaning over, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, lips.

“there ya’ go… you did so good, baby...” he whispers, like he’s helping you piece yourself back together. “my good girl, so perfect.”

you close your eyes, he shifts, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you close against his chest, and you sink into the comfort of him, exhaustion pulling you under as he strokes your hair, fingers gentle, calming.

“get some rest,” he murmurs, pressing a final kiss to your temple. “you’ll need it, sweetheart. when you wake up, i’m going to make sure you really can’t move. gonna fuck you so hard...”

[lovscb97]

tags: park sunghoon x fem!reader, established relationship, size kink, strength kink, bulge kink, d/s dynamics, dom!sunghoon x sub!reader, unprotected sex (plz don’t), breeding kink, creampie, dirty talk, degradation (slut, whore), praise kink?, nicknames (baby, princess, angel, hoonie, etc), slight fluff, lowkey pwp, reader is described to be shorter than hoon and is easy to pick up/throw around, reader is also very down bad for him (aren’t we all), etc

wc: 2.67k

add. notes: hoon won the poll i put out so i present to u my first ever enha work :3 thank u very much to everyone who voted n this will def not be the last enha fic i put out so do not worry there is much to come for hyung line!!! also icon creds to @/v4mpjay :3

. . . 

sunghoon doesn’t know how much longer he can take this. 

it all started when he began going to the gym regularly, slowly bulking his figure up and feeling himself grow out in his clothes. what used to be his lanky frame that greeted him in the mirror gradually turned into a built man with lean muscles and sharper features, adding to what was already there initially. it wasn’t like this wasn’t what he wanted though, albeit the entire reason why he even started working out in the first place being to improve his health and build better habits for himself, but the outcome wasn’t too bad in itself. he got used to feeling stronger, more lighter on his feet or less out of breath when he climbed the stairs, and it was enjoyable to know that he could lift twice his weight and still feel good as new. in some way, things felt like they were going swell.

that is, until you came into the picture.

now, sunghoon’s always known that you’re small compared to him. even when standing side by side, his height next to yours is a little laughable, though he supposes you’re used to that considering you’ve always been shorter than most of your peers. he’s well aware of how you have to go on your tippy-toes when you guys kiss, and the soft feel of your little hands in his is something that spins in his mind constantly when your fingers lace together. it doesn’t help that you always ask him to fetch your favourite mug from the top cabinet too, his larger physique towering over yours each time he leans over from behind you. he likes to tease you about it, revelling in the way you pout cutely back at him whenever he makes fun of you jokingly despite the small smile playing at your lips, but little do you know about the twisted fantasies breaching his thoughts every moment you spend together. he wonders if you would be disgusted? would you dump him and tell all your friends about what a creepy loser he was? sunghoon can’t help but imagine the worst case scenario, and it would be easy to bury these emotions down the hatchet had it not been for the fact that he’s started to think he is going mad too. 

every time sunghoon comes home from the gym, every time he enters your shared apartment, sweat dripping down his forehead and his water-bottle empty, he swears on his dead grandmother that you start checking him out. it doesn’t help that he's always been attentive either, always needlessly easy at picking up the cues of your discomfort when you're outside in a social space for too long, or being able to tell instantly when you're anything other than the happy go lucky girlfriend he usually sees you as. so, when your lingering gaze begins to trail across his arms a little too long whenever he passes your shared bedroom on his way to the shower, or when your mouth opens and closes to swallow before you're pressing your thighs together subtly each time he moves to wipe himself down each time he’s home— it all sparks something in him. it told him to finally, finally indulge in the nasty thoughts he’s kept tucked away to himself once and for all.

except he doesn’t. because at the end of the day, sunghoon is a gentleman. he pulls open the doors for you with nonchalance written all over him despite his burning ears, and he brings you back your memorised coffee order alongside a few sweet treats when he knows you’re on your period. he holds you close when you’re asleep in bed together, rubbing a gentle thumb against the skin of your cheek because he’s aware that’s what it takes for you to fall asleep, and makes sure you know he’s always going to be there for you in any time of need, even if he’s a thousand miles away. he’s never once made you doubt him, never once given you any reason to suspect he could be anything beyond the perfect, storybook written boyfriend he’s always been. 

until today, at least.

it was a day like any other, a day where you wouldn’t have expected things to take the turn they took at all. you and sunghoon were tangled up in your lavender sheets with your leg thrown over his, the morning sun streaming through the beige curtains you’d picked out on your ikea date together, and no alarms were intact to disturb you as it was the weekend. that’s probably why you both found yourselves in your current situation, your mouths meeting sloppily for short kisses and your boyfriend’s cock buried to the hilt inside you, thrusting ever so gently every other second as he whispered sweet praises to you between the meshing of your lips. the only sounds heard beyond the chirping of the birds outside your window were your soft moans and his low grunts, alongside the quiet noises of your slick dragging against his dick.

“fuck, baby. you feel so good.” sunghoon mumbles, pressing gentle smooches along the skin of your chin and jaw. you reply back something unintelligible, too lost in the euphoria he’s providing you to even form a coherent answer, which only makes him chuckle. he pulls back to admire your figure underneath him, a smile spreading across his lip at the sight of you laid out oh so pretty and pliant just for him. for him. all for his use. his use and his use only. the eventual thought makes his cock twitch inside you, and sunghoon momentarily slows down his movements in fear he’ll accidentally lose control of himself and fuck you into the sheets. his loss of momentum causes you to whine out loud though, large doe eyes blinking up at him in wonder, almost as if asking what happened, which does not make your boyfriend’s job any easier.

“hoonie, faster.” you beg softly, one hand coming up to grip his shoulder as the other bundles up the duvet underneath you. “please, wan’ it so bad.” sunghoon feels like his resolve is on the brink of snapping at your words, and he quickly resumes his previous pace (albeit still slower than what you wanted but better nonetheless) with gritted teeth, trying to think of something, anything that would distract him from the realisation of how fucking small you look under him, or how soft your hand feels resting on his skin. it doesn’t help that the sounds spewing from your lips are so cute, only spurring him on further to do what he longs to. 

“yeah, angel? want it faster? want hoonie to fuck you deeper?” he groans out instead, biting his lip at the sight of you nodding almost instantly to his words. your hole clenches even tighter around him as he speaks to you, and he shudders at the sensation. “shit, don’t do that, princess. might cum too quickly.” he exhales shakily, confused when you shake your head. “don’t care. cum f’me. wanna feel it, please.” you plead almost instantly without thinking, sunghoon’s eyes darkening as the request leaves your mouth. his pace comes to an immediate halt after that, and you make a noise of complaint at the loss of pleasure in your lower region, legs kicking up slightly in protest as you eye your boyfriend who’s currently trying to compose himself above you.

“don’t.. don’t say stuff like that.” sunghoon sighs, eyes closed shut as you cock your head to the side. you’re about to ask him why when he speaks up again. “i won’t be able to hold myself back if you do.” he professes darkly, opening his orbs back up to look deep into yours, his smouldering gaze making you shiver. you involuntary tighten around him at his confession, and he hisses at the feeling, head snapping to look down at you and the blush spreading across your cheeks. 

“i-i don’t.. don’t want you to hold back.” you mutter whilst looking away meekly before he can even comment on your actions. you meet his stare again after a beat of silence, but there’s something dark and sinister swimming in it now, and by the time you can even process what it is, he’s suddenly sheathing himself back into your warm walls, plowing into you with a heightened pace as if this is the last time he’ll ever get to fuck you. your moans tumble out of your mouth before you can even stop them, and you swear you hear sunghoon growl at the way you keen from his movements. 

“yeah? don’t want me to hold back? want me to absolutely destroy this wet cunt with my cock? ruin it for everybody else and mould it to the shape of my dick?” he grunts, a smirk spread across his face as you wildly nod at his words. “what, too fucked out to speak now, baby? where’s that confidence from before, hm?” you whimper at his condescending tone, the noise travelling straight to his core as he curses, continuing to plunge himself deep into you. the tip of his cock brushes against that spongey spot inside you, and you cry out when he angles his thrusts to hit it each time he drives inside your pussy. 

“who knew you were such a slut, huh baby? tell me, how long have you wanted me to spread you open and fuck you like i hated you?” sunghoon pants, tongue lolling out to lick at the sweat gathering on your neck. “s-so long, hoonie!” you mewl in response, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he bites down on your skin. “wanted you to— hnng, wanted you to bend me over and throw me around so bad!” sunghoon laughs breathlessly at your answer. 

“yeah, pretty? want me to use my big arms and toss you onto the bed? you should’ve told me sooner that you were such a whore.” you clench at the degrading name, and sunghoon almost stumbles into you at the sudden jolt of shock. “would’ve done everything you wanted me to. wanted it just as bad as you, did ya know that?” he grits out, pace unrelenting and unforgiving as he proceeds to pound into you. “you’re so fucking small, baby. makes me so goddamn hard every time i think about it. just want to, oh fuck— want to hold you down and make you take it.” 

“do it! do it, hoonie, please do it! make me take it, i wan’ take it for you.” you sob, and sunghoon physically feels the last of his self restrain break in half. he’s far too fucked out now to go back to his old ways, far too gone in the dizziness of making you feel good. his only goal now is to make you cum violently around him, and he’ll stop at nothing to achieve that. “gonna do it, baby. just wait, gonna fuck you so dumb, you’ll be begging me to stop.” he pauses momentarily to grab at the plush of your thigh and tosses your leg over his shoulder, resuming his past actions in the blink of an eye as you cry out at the change. he hits deeper, more harsh this way, and you swear you can feel him battering your cervix with each thrust delivered to your abused cunt.

“fuck, look at that.” sunghoon laughs in disbelief, his eyes fixed on the slightly evident bulge of his cock thrusting in and out of you in your stomach. “taking my cock so well, princess. you gonna cum for me soon, yeah? gonna cum for hoonie and make a mess of me?” he coos at the way you’re drooling, swiping a thumb up to wipe at the spit leaking out of your mouth before sucking it off, the visual of it only making you whine even more. by now, the bed is stained with your leaking arousal, but neither of you care, especially not when he involuntarily moves his hand to press down on your stomach. his movements only cause you to double over in pleasure, and before either of you know it, you’re shaking through an orgasm, thrashing and wailing as tears stream down your face.

“shit, shit, shit! that’s so hot, oh fuck.” sunghoon moans. “you did so well, angel. did so fucking good for me, you deserve a reward, don’t you? don’t you, my baby?” he rambles, and you whine in overstimulation as his thrusts grow more frantic and misplaced when he begins chasing his own release. “get ready, princess, ‘m gonna fill you up. gonna breed you so, so good and make you take it, yeah? you’ll take it, won’t you? take it so good for me like you always do.” by this point, you’re both trembling and whining out loud, sunghoon pistoning his hips into you as he desperately fixes to cum. he can feel the pressure building up, his balls tightening with each harsh thrust he delivers inside of you, and you’re more than ready to feel him ooze out of you, encouraging words spilling from your lips.

“do it, hoonie! do it, please! make me full and fuck it back into me. i’ll take it so good, so good, please baby, please.” you’re babbling by now, too fucked out to think let alone speak, but your words seem to send sunghoon over the edge because by the time you’re even halfway through your sentence, he’s shooting ropes inside of you, painting your walls white with his seed. there’s so much of it that it almost leaks out despite his cock keeping you plugged up, and you watch his beautiful face contort in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed and eyes clenched shut as he continues filling you up. 

“fuck..” sunghoon sighs out once he’s come down from his high, looking down to grip his cock and pull it out slightly only to push it back in when your cunt gushes with his release, causing him to bite his lip at the sinful sight. you whine when he moves back into you, his large arms caging your smaller frame in as he leans down to pepper salty kisses all over your face. “my good girl.” he whispers, slightly collapsing on top of you to catch his breath. his weight on you feels comforting, almost natural as you wrap your tired arms around his back tightly, pressing your bodies together even more than they already are to feel closer and connected to him.

“i didn’t know you were into that.” sunghoon speaks up after a moment of silence, causing you to open your eyes and look at him. he moves so he’s laying on his side, cock still keeping you plugged up despite the awkward position. “into what?” he deadpans at your reaction, and you giggle. “c’mon, babe. you can’t seriously look like that and expect me to not be feral for you.” you smile, and sunghoon huffs out a laugh, spooning an arm around you as he pulls your body closer to his warm one. “still, who knew my girl was so freaky?” you swat at him, and his chest rumbles with laughter, the sound sending an odd pool of warmth flowing through your chest. you both lay there in silence after that, basking in each other’s presence and enjoying the serenity and afterglow which comes from what was quite literally the best sex of your lives. 

“i love you.” you hear sunghoon mumble suddenly, his voice drowsy as he yawns cutely, a large grin spreading on your face at the simple three words which leave him. you reach out for his hand, lacing your small fingers in it before bringing it up to your mouth and pressing a kiss to the back. “love you more, hoonie.” you sigh out in satisfaction, eyes slipping shut slowly as sleep welcomes your tired senses.

you gradually drift off, thoughts filled with sweet dreams of your boyfriend and his precious laughter. 

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

[solxamber]

Desperate Confessions with: Riddle Rosehearts , Leona Kingscholar

Riddle Rosehearts

It’s almost dark when you finally step out of the library. The entire campus is steeped in the quiet warmth of the setting sun, casting long shadows and filling the air with a golden glow. You spot Riddle just a few paces away, standing by the ivy-laden wall, seemingly waiting for you. His usual composure is absent, replaced by an odd stillness in his posture, a tension that you can feel even from here.

"Riddle?" you ask, concern coloring your voice as you approach him. He turns, and for a moment, he doesn’t seem like himself. His face is flushed, his gaze intense, almost… desperate.

“You’re here,” he says quietly, almost in relief, though the softness of his words belies a turmoil simmering beneath. "I didn’t expect you to come out this late."

You tilt your head, trying to read the unspoken thoughts in his expression, but he doesn’t give you a chance. “I… need to tell you something.” His voice is tight, as though he’s struggling against himself to form the words. His hands are clenched at his sides, and he looks as if he’s trying to steady his breathing. “It’s—it’s been too much lately, and I don’t think I can keep pretending I’m…unaffected by you."

For a moment, he closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, they hold a vulnerability you’ve rarely seen. "You’ve haunted my thoughts, day and night. Every time I see you, I—I’m left wondering if I’ll be able to speak without… without feeling like my heart will burst. I feel like I’m losing control of myself whenever you’re near.”

His cheeks flush deeper, but he doesn’t look away. "I’m embarrassed by it. This—this lack of control.” His voice breaks, just a bit, and you can hear the self-criticism beneath his words. “I’ve spent my whole life restraining myself, and then you—” He takes a shaky breath. “You come into my life, and suddenly… I can’t.”

Your chest tightens at the rawness of his confession, at the deep-seated need he’s barely holding back. Before you can stop yourself, you close the gap between you, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him close.

Riddle’s breath catches, but he doesn’t pull away. His eyes are wide, a hint of disbelief mingling with hope as he gazes at you, unspoken words trembling on his lips. And in that moment, you realize that there’s no need for more words.

You surge forward, capturing his lips in a fierce, unrestrained kiss. It’s hard, almost desperate, and every ounce of feeling he’s kept bottled up seems to crash over both of you at once. Riddle’s arms wrap around you, and he clings to you as if he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

He kisses you back with the same intensity, almost a little shyly at first, but it quickly deepens into something far more passionate. His hand slips up to cup the side of your face, and you can feel his fingers tremble ever so slightly as he pulls you closer, kissing you like he’s wanted to for far too long.

When you finally part, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting together as you catch your breath. Riddle’s eyes are shining, his lips swollen from the kiss, his face flushed.

He looks at you with a kind of wonder, like he’s still not entirely certain this is real, and then, almost shyly, he whispers, “I didn’t… I didn’t know it could feel like this.” His voice is soft, reverent, as if he’s savoring each word, the remnants of his vulnerability lingering.

Leona Kingscholar

It sneaks up on Leona, this feeling he doesn't know what to name. At first, he thinks it's just irritation—that persistent gnawing that comes with your endless presence. You’re always around, talking, laughing, pulling him into things he swears he doesn’t care about. He assumes it’s only a matter of time before he finally snaps. But then you’re not there one day, and the world feels off-kilter.

He spends that entire afternoon restless, eyes flickering toward every entrance as if expecting you to walk through it. But you don’t. The gardens are too quiet, his naps too still, and he’s left with a strange emptiness that he can’t shake off.

The next day, you’re there again, and the weight lifts. He scowls when he catches himself relaxing, brushing it off, but it keeps happening. Days pass, and it’s clear—he misses you. This realization grates on him, bothers him in a way nothing else has. How could he, Leona Kingscholar, find himself so wrapped up in someone else?

Then, today, he’s back in his usual spot in the garden, the shade cooling his skin as he lounges, pretending to nap. He can hear your footsteps before he sees you, and he opens one eye as you approach, carrying a basket of food, smiling that soft, familiar smile of yours.

"Thought you’d like something to eat," you say, setting the basket down with that easy grace of yours that makes his chest ache.

And that’s it. That ache in his chest spills over, and he can’t hold it back anymore. It all comes rushing out, like a dam breaking.

"Why?" he says, his voice rougher than he intended. "Why do you keep coming here, even when I’ve given you every reason not to?" He’s sitting up now, leaning toward you, the intensity in his eyes making you blink.

He huffs, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "I thought you were a nuisance at first. Always hanging around, always in my space." His voice drops lower, rougher, almost as if he’s frustrated with himself. "But the truth is… I’m the one who’s a mess without you. You leave, and everything just… feels wrong."

There’s a pause, and he looks down, jaw clenched, hands clenched in his lap. "I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but I don’t care anymore. All I know is… I want you here. Always." He raises his gaze to yours, the desperation flickering in his eyes a vulnerability that catches even him off guard.

Your heart swells, and as his words sink in, a smile breaks across your face. Tears well up in your eyes, unbidden, but you can’t help it. Before you know it, you’re leaning in, cupping his face, and pressing your lips to his in a kiss that’s as gentle as it is profound. The warmth of him, the rough texture of his skin against yours, grounds you, and you kiss him deeply, tasting the intensity of his feelings, the rawness he’s bared just for you.

As you pull back, his thumb brushes across your cheek, catching a stray tear. He leans forward, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, his own lips brushing lightly against the salt of your tears. "Even that," he murmurs, his voice a soft rumble, "even the taste of you like this… I want it all."

And you hold him close, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your palm, realizing that this is where you both belong.

Masterlist

[woozivrsefactry]

l.sm — your own sweet sex-god

pairing : bsf!lee seokmin x reader synopsis : you did not expect to witness your otherwise seokmin's heavenly body tonight. you also didn't think you'd end up in his bed. tho, you're not complaining about it. w.c. : 2.1 k tw : oral (m rec), dirty talking, mentions of breakup, mentions of dk's hookup, very explicit description of dk's body (yes its a warning), subby seokmin, cum swallowing

The breakup didn’t hurt as much as it bruised your pride. You’d seen it coming from a mile away; in truth, you'd expected to be the one to call it off. But here you were, newly single, dumped, and, oddly, more aggravated than heartbroken. Frustration simmered under your skin, and in that moment, all you wanted was to vent to Seokmin, your best friend, the one person who could make everything right with his warm smile and endless patience. So, with little thought, you found yourself heading to his place unannounced.

When Seokmin answered the door, though, all thoughts of your ex fell away in a heartbeat.

He was…different. Shirtless, firstly, his bare torso, shining with a thin layer of sweat in the dim light of the hallway, just open and out there for you to gawk at. Your eyes began at his broad shoulders, down his sharp collarbones, lingering over his chocolatey nipples decorating his pecs, the defined lines of his abs -- he'd been really working lately, and it was showing now -- and of his sharp v dissapearing inside the elastic of his loosely hung grey sweat. god, those grey sweats, that as you ogled further, made obvious of the line of his dick (and god, that was BIG), and hence, the obvious lack of his underwear. you stared a second longer before your eyes snapped back up to his eyes.

Seokmin’s eyes widened as he realized who was standing there, and his lips turned up in that familiar, disarming smile. “O-oh, uhm, hey… What brings you here?”

You tried to summon the words you’d rehearsed in your head, but suddenly they felt silly. The whole “I-just-got-dumped-and-I’m-annoyed” speech faded away as you took in the Seokmin in front of you—powerfully attractive, and clearly freshly sexed with how good he smelled right now. The disheveled girl you’d passed in the lobby made sense now, and somehow, that knowledge made you feel…jealous?

It surprised you how badly you wanted to know if she meant something to him.

He seemed oblivious to your racing thoughts and gestured for you to come in. “I’ll get you a drink. Come in, relax.”

Seokmin moved to his bedroom to grab a shirt, -- you'd lie if you said you didn't stare at his beautifully plump ass as he turned his back to you-- leaving you momentarily alone in the living room, your mind still reeling. It wasn’t the time or place to entertain the fantasies that started to swirl in your head—images of those strong hands on you, that laugh as he held you close, your fingers running along his jawline and his against your something else. But it was difficult not to feel the pull of attraction, now almost impossible to ignore.

He returned, looking a little more like the Seokmin you knew, wearing a simple pastel henley shirt. But every time your eyes flicked to his lips or the lingering sight of his toned body, the air between you felt charged with something new.

“Alright,” he said, handing you a warm cup of tea and giving you his full attention. “What happened?”

You tried to recount the breakup, but even to your ears, it sounded flat, a half-hearted retelling of events that didn’t truly matter anymore. Every time you glanced his way, your eyes kept lingering over his features, imagining his hands on your skin. You barely registered the comforting words he offered about how you “deserved so much better” and that your ex was clearly clueless to let you go.

Eventually, you found yourself retreating to the guest room—your room, as Seokmin always called it, since he kept it prepared just for you, cozy and warm. You tried to shake off the vivid daydreams filling your mind as you lied down on the bed, but it was no use. After what felt like hours of tossing and turning, your hands inside your pants, an attempt (and failing) to quell the ache that had only grown stronger with every new thought of Seokmin.

But it wasn’t enough. Nothing seemed to ease the tension building inside you, not when every thought was filled with Seokmin’s face, his body, his touch. If only he was touching you with his own fingers.

Frustrated, you found yourself standing, almost as if on autopilot, and made your way to his bedroom. You hesitated for just a moment, but the need inside you pushed you forward. Seokmin glanced at you from his bed and before either of you knew, you were on top of him, your knees trapping his hips on either side, your hands pinning his, your faces close. he didn't stop you. you took that as sign to lean in closer and felt his breath hitch, his heart eating faster, eyes wide as your hair brushed against the side of his face. "y/n..."

“God, Seokmin,” you whispered, "whats wrong with me. why are you making me so damn wet..."

"I-i?" His question was so stupid. Of course him. Of course its him with that fucking sex-god body. His knee raised, thigh proding between your legs, making you whine.

"Yes, you. You are the one whos made me this wet, and now you need to take care of it."

Thats the only words seokmin needed before he flips you over on your back, getting on top of you. "Can I?"

the audacity to even ask that. You didnt bother an answer, just pulled him by the neck, capturing his lips with yours. He moaned in your mouth. you both kissed each other with such passion that made you wonder if Seokmin had thought of kissing you like this before. you two looked less like kissing and more like two snakes trying to bite into each other's mouth. when he pulled away, it was only to breathe, because you both did forget to breathe with how hot that kiss was.

You took that chance to flip him back. you began kissing down his neck, down his shoulders, making him moan and gasp and yelp everytime you bit too hard. you sucked on the would and licked it nastily, marking him yours with how dark the marks were gonna get. you pulled his shirt off and threw it aside, almost with anger, because how dare his shirts hide that god-bod from you for so long. you instantly bit his nipples, making seokmin gasp, fingers tightening in your hair. you licked over his nipple again, relishing in the sweat and metal-y taste.

you continued biting and licking and kissing and marking him, moving lower and lower till you reached the hem of his sweats. you looked up at him with half lidded eyes as you slid your tongue along his hardened length through the fabric of his sweats,watching his head throwing back with a gasp. "God, Seokmin, you're so damn slutty, still not wearing any underwear. You must wanna flaunt this to me, don't you?"

you gave a oen mouthed kiss over his crotch, wetting the fabric and making it even thinner.

"I-i, no, fuck. y/n, ngh, s-slow down." he was beyond forming coherent words as you sucked over his length from over his sweats, the taste of his precum almost immediately hitting your tongue. "Feel so good, aah-"

His words faded into a soft gasp as you pressed your lips over him again, just firm enough to make him shiver, his resolve unraveling with every slow, deliberate touch. Each press of your mouth felt electric, like a spark building between you both, until he was gripping the edge of the bed, breath catching in shallow bursts.

When you finally hooked your fingers into the waistband of his sweats and began to pull them down, his anticipation was palpable. His length was hard and flushed, wet with your spit and his precum that leaked enough to make it look like he already came, and you felt a surge of confidence seeing how much he was affected by you. you took him whole in your mouth, going down on him till you could feel his tip hitting the back of your throat.

He groaned, his hands curling in the sheets, and you could feel every inch of his reaction, his muscles tensing under your touch. With every movement, every teasing glide, he became more and more undone, his breathing shallow and quick. you bobbed your head up and down, the obscene gurgling noise loud as you swallowed around him. He came soon, down your throat without any warning except the exceptionally loud and beautifully broken cry from his mouth. you coughed as you pulled out, grinning mischievously as you opened your mouth and showed him that you drank it all up.

Seokmin’s chest heaved, his eyes barely open as he lay there, still catching his breath. But you weren’t about to let him rest. Without a word, you moved over him, your fingers of one hand grazing his shoulders, holding him down as you settled in his lap, your other hand holding his dick up as you sat on it. His body was still sensitive, and the moment you pressed your hips down, a soft, helpless sound escaped him.

"Sensitive much, Minnie?” you murmured, leaning close, a hint of mischief in your tone. His cheeks flushed, but he couldn’t look away, his hands instinctively coming to your hips as he tried to steady himself, clearly caught off guard by your boldness.

But you weren’t giving him a moment to adjust. As you moved, he let out a moan, his hands gripping your waist a little tighter, unable to keep himself from reacting to every movement. His eyes were hazy, completely overwhelmed, and as you leaned down, your fingers found their way into his hair, tugging just enough to make him look up at you.

“By the way,” you whispered, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “Who was the girl in the elevator earlier? A girlfriend? Casual fling? A friend with benefits I don't know about?”

His eyes went wide, and you saw a flicker of nervousness there, breath hitching as he tried to answer. “N-no, it was a tinder match. We just… It was nothing serious, just…you know…” His voice trailed off, his cheeks turning pinker as he tried to find the words. "Some handsy stuff, that's all."

Your smirk grew, and you gave his hair another gentle tug, making him meet your gaze fully. “Nothing serious, huh?” You leaned down, your voice a whisper against his lips. “You're such a slut, baby, getting two girls in your bed in the same night, and still being so needy.”

That comment had him flustered, his cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red as he stammered out something incoherent, his hips betraying him as they jerked upward instinctively. "Y-you're the one fucking your best friend the first night after your b-breakup!" Seokmin attempted to fight back, but it was still useless, and it made you chuckle cruelly. It was clear he was lost to the moment, every word from you pulling him deeper under your spell, his reactions belying just how much he was enjoying the teasing.

You didn’t let up, watching as he tried to hold back his reactions, utterly captivated by you, his every breath quickening as you took full control of the moment. Each movement, each teasing word left him completely at your mercy, a sight you could get used to.

You leaned back, riding him faster, earning a stuttering long whimper from him. His fingers reached between your legs, touching your clit to bring you as close to orgasm as he was. His other hand slipping upwards, grabbing one of your boobs gently squeezing.

"Y-y/n! Nghh- I am cumming again." Seokmin said, eyes shut of embarrassment, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. You would tease his state more, if not for how close to cumming you were yourself. "I wanna cum with you."

Your hips rolled faster, seokmin's own hips jerking up to meet yours, impatient. With a shared guttereal moan you both came. You collapsed on his chest, your hips still rolling slowly, riding out the waves of pleasure.

You lazily looked up at Seokmin. Red swollen lips, sweaty blushed cheeks and droopy eyes staring back at you. Face fucked. As much as you loved your sweet, innocent-looking best friend Seokmin, you could do get used to this version of him. Maybe have something more with him.

[jellybeanium124]

if you'll allow me to flaunt my psych minor for a second, I'd like to talk about epigenetics. there's studies that show that if you shock a rat when you let them taste a certain flavor, they will immediately become averse to that flavor. not surprising. what is surprising is that the rat's grandchildren, who have never been shocked when given that flavor, will also be averse to it and afraid of it and avoid it. there's also correlational evidence to suggest that the descendants of people who suffered through famine are more likely to put on weight and keep it on easier, even if they have never been through a famine themself.

trauma gets passed down. the kinds of trauma your parents, grandparents, and so-on lived through is still living in you. even if your parents were the most well-off, loving, best parents in the world, their trauma is still in you.

now if you'll allow me to take a slight turn here: there's a wild rabbit inside every jew.

my dad grew up being called "jew-boy." my mother had a coworker throw pennies at her at her job in the 2010s. and that's just two examples. they both grew up being harassed for being jewish. I wasn't. I'm incredibly lucky. the amount of antisemitism I've experienced in real life has been incredibly minimal. I didn't even hear anyone make an antisemitic joke in front of me until college.

and none of us were seriously persecuted. none of my grandparents were seriously persecuted. but even though nobody's broken my windows, nobody's beaten me in the streets, and I haven't been at any of those horrible protests in person, the fear is there. this deep seated, blood-pumping fear of the ancient jewish rabbit in me telling me to run. to run for dear life, to run as far as my legs can get me, as long as my heart keeps pumping and my lungs keep breathing.

we all feel this.

everyone feels this.

I called my mother yesterday. when I brought up this feeling she paused, and the silence said everything. she told me I wasn't alone. she feels it. my dad feels it. my brother feels it. my nana and grampa feel it. every jew you know, online, in real life, hell, even the famous ones, they feel it. the rabbit is inside us all, and the rabbit knows, because its brothers who didn't flee in the past were slaughtered.

the rabbit is leaping around my chest, all of our chests, chanting run run run run run run run.

I don't know if I can explain it to gentiles. I don't know if this makes sense to you. I don't know how to get across how crystal clear and deep and primal this fear is, and how much all of us are feeling the exact same fear, despite our different lives and different histories and the fact we're different people.

part of me wishes it didn't matter. that I didn't feel like I needed to get goyim to understand my specific cultural and ethnic experiences. because I don't feel like I need to deeply understand everyone else's. I am a white passing ashkenazi american jew, and I will never fully understand what it is like to be anything else. that doesn't dissolve my responsibility to educate myself and practice empathy, but it's ok. idk, maybe other people do desperately wish they could get people not in their specific group to deeply understand what it's like to be them. I imagine that feeling is universal. I guess, it's just like, the left is unified that everyone is a person, everyone is equal, everyone is human, except the jews. nobody is left out but the jews. everyone's word is believed, but the jews. and it makes me feel like I have to beg and plead with people to understand what being jewish means, because we're not included with everyone else. we're the enemy. and I want people to see we're not the enemy.

epigenetics.

[uncle-fruity]

Also, like... I get that there is a lot of anxiety about being seen as morally good & fighting for everyone at every turn, but! Crucially, the people who try to guilt trip you or judge you off your Tumblr presence don't fucking know you. They don't know what you do off Tumblr. They may not know any other social media that you DO use for your politics and heavy posting. And, tbh, at a certain level of offline activism & direct action, it is actively dangerous for you to be posting about what you do online, so a perceived lack of interest or dedication online does not necessarily translate to the efforts you put in to causes you care about.

Fact of the matter is, YOU are the only one who knows what you get up to. If it's not as much as you think you should be doing, that's for you to assess and change. If you feel like you're doing enough, or if you feel like taking on more responsibility in activism would overwhelm you or burn you out, that's okay! You know your limits better than anyone else. You get to set your priorities. And if you really want to help with social justice causes, you HAVE to take care of yourself. Anger, fear, and guilt are not sustainable motivations to drive a movement. You NEED places to relax and have fun and not think about how bleak things can get. You NEED to have places to retreat, enjoy yourself, and remind yourself that it's all worth fighting for.

I know this, because I'm in my 30s now. When I was in my early 20s, I was friends with a lot of folks who went hard during the Ferguson protests, and while many of them are still active in their activism, almost none of them are operating on the same level as they used to. All of them are burnt out & depressed. I spend a lot of my energy urging them to take care of their most basic needs. We also have a problem with a lot of older activists being too broken & traumatized to continue organizing. And part of the problem is people within the movement encouraging people to push past their limits until they have nothing left to give. Or just having no support systems in place to help people recover while actively judging people who need them & can't continue without them.

And, like, it's hard, because it's easy to start feeling like no one cares about the stuff you care about when you're out there trying to make change -- especially true if all your activism is online posting & raising awareness. It can feel like you're talking to a void or a brick wall. The idea that you are so stressed & strung out & never let yourself take a break from the harsh reality of the world while there are people who have the audacity to make time to enjoy their lives and put their efforts into other activities that aren't directly related to The Cause -- well, that's why a lot of people resort to guilt trips. I know I did, too, when I was younger and freshly angry. And I know that those guilt trips did nothing to convince anyone of anything. In fact, it was the constant guilt trips that made me retreat from those online groups. Where they might have had any and all skills I could offer, they instead made me feel like shit for doing what I could handle at the time. And even though I knew guilt tripping was a major manipulation & abuse tactic, I still resorted to it and, in doing so, I felt wrong. Like I betrayed some of my core values by trying to make people feel so bad that they would suddenly realize that they should be ashamed & join the movement headfirst. It just... doesn't work that way. A guilt trip will turn people off. If you want people to join a movement or be more active in a movement they are already part of, it is so much better to encourage them to come with you to organized events or give them something tangible to do that they can actually accomplish. And if you're just talking about posting online, well... that is not the most important thing to focus on, and is a really bad measure to judge someone's morality.

All that to say, a guilt trip is usually a manifestation of the desperation folks are feeling. It's not right to guilt trip folks, and if you're at that point that you feel like that's the only thing that will get people to change and care, then I'm sorry to say you are probably on the verge of your own burnout and you need to take a break. Please don't let people make you feel bad for not being angry or on your activism shit 24/7. And don't judge yourself harshly when you need to have boundaries online. The best tactic will always be community building and working with people & their various skills on their level. Compassion and encouragement go so much farther than guilt.

No matter what a post on tumblr tries to tell you, your moral and ethical stances will never be determined by what you reblog and what you scroll past. Don’t let manipulation tactics force you into doing anything you don’t want to do.

[writetheidea]

In the Quiet of Us

Hello, I had another idea for a fan fiction. This one was more of a spur-of-the-moment idea, but I hope you still find it enjoyable. As always, I have anonymous ask available for those who would like to express their opinion anonymously.

Pairing:  Lando Norris x named!female character

Plot: Lando Norris learns to navigate his girlfriend's hesitation with physical affection, patiently helping her open up and show love in her own quiet, touch-starved way.

Tag: fluff.

Word count: 1697

Disclaimers: english is not my first language - I feel like you could tell from my writing style - so I apologize if some of the sentences structures are off, or if I use outdated or inappropriate-for-the-context words, I used a synonym dictionary to try and stop myself from repeating the same words, I still did do that though.

The girlfriend has a name as I wasn’t able to write this without a name, I apologize, I made it a shorter name so it can be skimmed over. There is no physical description of them.

Lando Norris had always been an affectionate person, and anyone close to him would tell you the same. Whether it was a warm hug after a tough day or a playful nudge to break the silence, Lando found comfort in touch. Friends and family alike knew he’d be the first to throw an arm around your shoulders, squeeze your hand for reassurance, or wrap you in a bear hug when you needed it most. For Lando, physical closeness wasn’t just a part of life—it was his language, one he was fluent in and spoke without hesitation.

But when it came to Evie, Lando soon realized that physical affection wasn’t something she was used to. She wasn’t cold or distant—quite the opposite, actually—but there was a quietness to her, a shyness that kept her hands tucked in her lap rather than reaching out. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be close to him; he could see the way her eyes softened when he touched her, how her breath would hitch when he leaned in a little too close. But there was always a hesitation, a space she kept between them.

Their first date had been sweet and simple, a quiet dinner followed by a walk in the park. At one point, he’d offered her his arm, hoping she’d take it. But instead, she’d simply smiled and slipped her hands into her pockets. At the end of the night, as they said goodbye, he leaned in for a kiss. She blushed a deep pink, her hands clutching her purse as though it was the only thing keeping her steady. Her hesitation caught him off guard. He’d pulled back, a soft smile on his face to cover the moment’s awkwardness, but she didn’t move away. It was as though she wanted to be closer but didn’t know how to reach for him.

As the weeks passed, Lando began to notice the small ways Evie responded to his touch. She wouldn’t reach for his hand, but she’d linger if he held it. She wouldn’t initiate a hug, but once he pulled her into his arms, she’d hold on tight, pressing her face into his chest like she was grounding herself in his warmth. If he brushed her cheek with his thumb or let his fingers graze hers, her cheeks would flush, her lips parting in a soft, unsure smile. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be close—it was just that she wasn’t sure how to be.

It stung a little at first. Lando had always been so open with his affection, so ready to give, but he quickly realized that Evie just wasn’t used to it. And as he got to know her, he could see how deeply she cared for him in all the ways that didn’t involve touch. She’d make him laugh until his stomach hurt, stay up late just to talk about their days, remember every small detail he shared with her. He saw kindness in her every action, even in her hesitance. And whenever he held her, no matter how shy she seemed, she never pulled away.

She wasn’t rejecting him; she just wasn’t sure how to express her feelings through touch. But that didn’t stop him from being patient, from offering her the space she needed while still trying to show her how much he cared in his own way.

Then, as the months passed, Lando started noticing something else. A pattern, little signs that showed she was trying to be close in her own quiet ways. She’d poke his shoulder after a joke or hold her hand up for a high-five with a shy smile, only to linger a second too long. These gestures became more frequent—small touches, like a light brush of her fingers over his, the faintest hint of a hand on his arm. It dawned on him, in the sweetest way, that this was Evie’s version of physical affection. A high-five, a gentle nudge, an extra glance over her shoulder as he watched her laugh with his family. Each small touch felt like her way of reaching out, even if it didn’t look like much to anyone else.

And Lando loved it. Every high-five, every poke on his shoulder felt like a step forward, like she was learning how to show what she felt in her own way. He noticed that these gestures would come at the sweetest moments—after they’d had a laugh, or when she was watching him with that soft, shy smile of hers, or during the quiet times when they were just being near each other. He realized that Evie wasn’t distant at all. She was just... a little touch-starved, perhaps too used to holding back.

So he decided he’d help make up for all the love she hadn’t had, all the closeness she never felt she could ask for. He started pulling her close more often, wrapping her in warm hugs, brushing kisses over her temple whenever he could. She’d always hesitate at first, that little spark of nervousness in her eyes, but then she’d melt into his arms as if they were the safest place in the world. And every time, he’d whisper soft words of affirmation, making sure she knew how much he loved her, how happy he was just to hold her.

---

One afternoon, while they were sitting together in silence, Lando reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Evie’s ear. She looked at him, her eyes soft and a little uncertain, and he couldn’t help but smile. He liked the way she looked at him, like she was always just on the verge of saying something but couldn’t quite find the words.

“You’re so cute when you blush,” he teased gently, his fingers brushing over her cheek.

Evie turned pink, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I... I’m not good at this, Lando,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Being close... I’m just not sure how to... I don’t want to mess it up.”

Lando’s heart ached at the sadness in her voice. He reached out, cupping her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. “Evie, you don’t have to know how,” he said softly, his voice filled with love. “You don’t have to do anything. Just let me love you. Let me hold you.”

She met his gaze, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, and slowly, she leaned into his touch, allowing him to pull her close. Her arms wrapped around him tightly, as if he were the only steady thing in her world.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice so soft, he almost couldn’t hear it. “For being patient with me.”

“You’re worth every second,” Lando murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He meant it with all of his heart.

---

As time passed, Evie began to open up in small, quiet ways. She started to initiate small gestures, things she’d never done before. She would reach for his hand when they watched a movie, her fingers gently curling around his. She would rest her head on his shoulder, her breath soft against his neck. Each small touch was a quiet declaration of her love, her way of showing him that she was learning how to trust in the closeness they shared.

One morning, as Lando was making breakfast, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind. He froze for a moment, caught off guard by the warmth of her embrace. But then he relaxed, covering her hands with his and smiling as his heart swelled. They stood there for a while, wrapped in each other, and for the first time, Lando felt like they had finally found a rhythm together—one that didn’t need words, one that was just about being there for each other.

Each day brought something new—a gentle touch, a small kiss, a hesitant hug. She would press a kiss to his cheek, rest her head on his chest as they lay together, ask him to hold her on days when she felt vulnerable. Every gesture made his heart swell, and he made sure she knew how much he cherished each one. With every forehead kiss, every squeeze of her hand, he let her know that her love was a gift, never a burden.

---

In the quiet moments that followed, Lando never stopped showing Evie how much he loved her. With every soft kiss on her forehead, every gentle squeeze of her hand, he let her know that her love was a gift, one he treasured deeply. And in return, Evie began to understand that love didn’t need to be loud or perfect—it just needed to be there, in every little gesture, in every quiet moment they shared.

One quiet evening, after a long day, they found themselves on the couch, wrapped up in each other and a warm blanket. The TV played softly in the background, but neither of them paid much attention. Evie was nestled against Lando’s side, her fingers tracing slow patterns over his hand, her head resting against his shoulder. He felt her breath even out, and he looked down to find her gaze soft and peaceful, a contented look he was coming to cherish. It was a peaceful silence, one that spoke volumes.

After a while, Evie lifted her head and looked up at him, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “Do you think I’ll ever be as good at this as you are?” she asked, her voice filled with uncertainty.

Lando gave her hand a gentle squeeze, smiling at her with a warmth that held no expectation, only love. “You’re already everything I need, Evie,” he said simply, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Just as you are.”

She leaned back against him, her fingers curling around his as she closed her eyes, content. And for the first time, they didn’t need words to feel how much they meant to each other. They had found their own way, and it was perfect.

In that silence, wrapped in each other’s arms, they both knew that love could be quiet, soft, and yet, more than enough.

[2amriize]

when you go to sleep with them but you don't hug them - RIIZE

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist // genre fluff // pairing bf!riize x reader ᡣ𐭩 req by: my beloved @ladylilith

ᯓ★ shotaro Normally, you and Shotaro would fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms—even on the hottest nights, since it just felt comforting to you both. But that day, you were exhausted. You’d had such a long day that the moment you lay down, you felt too tired to even turn over and hug Shotaro. In truth, it hadn’t even crossed your mind. Shotaro noticed, and he decided that this night, he’d be the one to hold you. He moved closer, cuddling up to your back and leaving a gentle kiss on your cheek.

ᯓ★ eunseok “Not forgetting something, princess?” Eunseok had gone for a shower before bed, and you’d tried to stay awake, but exhaustion finally got the best of you. Just as you were drifting off, Eunseok returned, whispering close to your ear as your eyes were nearly shut. You turned towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso and nestling into his chest, feeling him leave a kiss on your forehead. “That’s better.”

ᯓ★ sungchan Not a chance. Sleeping without holding you close? That was simply impossible for Sungchan. He loved feeling your arms around his chest while he held you with one of his arms, his head resting on yours. He always said it made him sleep better. That night, though, you’d had a minor argument, and when you got into bed, you decided to turn your back to him. He tried to fall asleep but quickly realized something was missing. Checking to see if you were still awake, he got you to look at him. “I know you’re still a bit upset with me, but honestly, I can’t sleep if you don’t hold me. So… please?”

ᯓ★ wonbin You knew how expressive Wonbin could be and how easy it was to tell when something was bothering him or if he was feeling down. While you were lying in bed about to sleep, you could feel Wonbin looking at you several times as you scrolled through your phone. After a few minutes, you decided to look back and found him with a little pout on his lips. “What’s wrong, honey? Why are you looking at me like that?” “I want to sleep…” “So? You don’t have to wait for me.” “I do because I need you to hold me, and you’re not doing it.” You couldn’t help but smile when you heard him say that. You loved seeing this tender side of Wonbin, so you set your phone down and hugged him, and the two of you fell asleep within minutes.

ᯓ★ seunghan Seunghan was speechless seeing you in bed without holding him. Could he even handle it? Not at all. He grabbed you and pulled you closer, making you open your eyes, laughing at his expression as if someone had taken his favorite toy. “What are you doing, Seunghan? I just want to sleep…” Without saying a word, he turned you towards him and held you tightly. “Now you can sleep.”

ᯓ★ sohee Though it might not seem like it, Sohee loved to hold you while lying in bed—he loved it even more when you held onto him, letting him run his fingers through your hair until you both fell asleep. That night, just as you were about to sleep, one of your friends video-called, and you spent several minutes talking to her. Sohee lay next to you, waiting patiently for you to finish so you could sleep in each other’s arms. When the call kept going on and on, he leaned in and whispered in your ear. “I need you to hold me so I can fall asleep, y/n…” You looked at Sohee, surprised. You couldn’t believe he’d just asked for something so sweet. Without a second thought, you said goodbye to your friend and wrapped your arms around Sohee’s chest.

ᯓ★ anton It was normal for you and Anton to fall asleep holding each other, your arms around his chest and your head resting on his torso. But that night, you lay down and simply turned your back to him, which struck Anton as strange. When he noticed you weren’t holding him like you usually did, he touched your shoulder to get your attention. “Is something wrong? We don’t usually sleep like this…” After a few seconds, you understood what he meant. With a small laugh, you turned over and hugged his torso, and he wrapped his arms around you in return.

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori

@enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123

@sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies

[felixknow]

Hannie's Fixation pt. 5: Finale

Hannie's 🍒 fixation | Hannie's 🦪 fixation | Hannie's fixation pt. 3 | Hannie's fixation pt. 4

general: friends to lovers, more desperate hannie, happy ending, f!reader, curvy reader implied

nsfw: boob play/fixation, oral and fingering (f!receiving), condom use, hannie doesn't last long (he's just so obsessed he can't help it)

He opens the door so quickly that you’re sure he was standing just on the other side waiting for you to knock.

“Hi,” he says on a breath, sounding relieved, almost as if he didn’t think you’d actually show up. One of his arms finds your waist as you step inside; with the other he closes and locks the door behind you.

“Hi Hanji.”

He hugs you tightly, laying his head on your shoulder. You hesitantly hug him back, unsure if this sweet moment will stay sweet or if he’ll start trying to fuck you the second your arms wrap around him.

He doesn’t, though. He just holds you for a long moment in silence, his arms locked around your body. This is more like the Hanji you’re used to. Your best friend, your Hanji, who had never shown any interest in your body until last week and lately has seemed to only like you for it. Now he’s his soft self again, wanting a cuddle and a quiet evening. For now, at least.

“I love you,” he mumbles pitifully, and you sigh softly.

“I’m not mad at you, Hanji, it just feels weird.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We should have talked about it first.” He lets go of you and stands back, his hands falling down to find yours as you release your hug on him in turn. “Do you want to talk about it now? Or after?”

“You’re such a horndog,” you scoff, rolling your eyes unseriously. “Here I thought you were about to have a serious moment with me and you’re still just set on getting in my pants.”

“You said I could! You said you’d come over and we’d fuck and then we’d talk!”

“Yeah, and you’re the one who just acknowledged that we very well should have had a conversation before we started doing anything sexual with each other.” While you talk, Han starts pulling you toward his room, and you willingly go with him, though you do make him put effort into dragging you along.

“Well a promise is a promise, y/nnie,” he insists. “And you promised I could hit at least once.”

“You say promise very liberally, Han Jisung. I don’t think I promised my pussy to you.”

 His head whips around to look at you, his eyes wide and excited, his lips parted and open so you can see a peek of his teeth. You don’t even have to look down all the way to see the tent in his pants.

“That’s so fucking hot. You did, though. You promised I get your pussy. Oh, fuck, I’m gonna fuck you so good,” he says excitedly, drawing you in again by your hips. He tries to lean in to kiss you, but the feeling of his boner against your crotch makes you laugh nervously and lean away from his face.

“You’re ridiculous. Not a serious bone in your body, I swear.”

“Oh, I’m serious. I’m reeeeeally serious, and this serious bone is going to get into your body.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you insist again, still trying to push against his chest to make him let go of you.

“Please, y/nnie, pleeeease.” Han makes kissy noises, still leaning in, still holding the small of your back to keep you close.

“You don’t have to beg me, you know,” you mumble, finally giving in to him and letting him kiss all across your cheek and your soft jawline.

“But I don’t know what else to say,” he says back in an equally low voice. “And I want you to know how bad I want it. I’m not just asking you ‘cause I’m horny, I’m asking you ‘cause it’s you.”

You take a second to silently process his words, and his shiny brown eyes watch you carefully. You don’t say anything, though, electing instead to lean in and kiss him properly on the lips for what you think may be the actual first time your lips have touched his.

Han’s quick to pull you backwards the rest of the way into his room. You stumble together to his bed, and he falls ungracefully backwards when the back of his knees hit the bed, and he pulls you down on top of him, letting out a very dramatic whine of protest when you try to avoid straddling him.

“Sit,” he mutters against your lips, still trying to kiss you while he talks even though it’s a little awkward and creates a weird ratio of lips to teeth to tongue.

“Thought you wanted to fuck me?” you pant into his mouth. One arm wraps around his shoulders and the other hand tangles in his hair. “Wouldn’t you rather me lying down?”

“You’re so right,” he groans, shifting you both to the side until you’re tumbling off his lap and into his soft bed. The scent of his shampoo and cologne instantly surrounds you and eases the last bit of nerves you had about this. This is your Hanji. 

Han’s shaky hands make quick work of your clothes and his in a back to back pattern. His shirt, then yours, then his pants, then your bra. He can’t help himself from playing once he sees your boobs right in front of him again. 

He moans as soon as his mouth closes around your nipple. Your skin is so warm and soft, and the scent of your skin fills his nose to the brim, and his eyes flutter closed and he’s never been so happy to have someone in his bed. He sucks and pinches opposite nipples, playing and indulging more for his own pleasure than for yours just like the first time he’d gotten to touch you.

When you moan and whisper his name, you break his trance and he sits back up, lips shiny with spit where his mouth hangs open like it’s still searching for your breast.

“Does that feel good for you?” he asks, almost in a daze. “I should have asked.”

“It does,” you nod, reaching up to fluff up his already messy hair. “I think ‘cause you like it so much so you’re really good at it. It feels good.”

A smile breaks his open-mouthed expression, and he gives you another quick yet searing kiss before kicking off his underwear and dragging your leggings and panties from your body in one quick motion. Once he’s gotten them off your ankle, then the other, he grips your leg firmly to hold it in place while he kisses it from the inside of your ankle all the way up to the top of your thigh. You assume that he’s going for your cunt, maybe looking for the taste of you before he fucks you, but instead he continues up, peppering kisses and spit up your soft stomach, your chestbone, and up your neck.

“Can we do it?” he whispers in your ear. “You’re sure I can?”

“Yes, Hanji,” you chuckle. “Fuck me. Let me feel you inside me.”

He moans in your ear in response, humping against your thigh like a horny dog for a second before peeling himself off of you to scurry away into his ensuite bathroom. You watch through the doorway as he opens the top drawer, pulls a whole box of condoms out, and comes running back to the bed, unattended cock bobbing as he does.

“Did you already have those or did you buy those just for this?” you ask without considering if you really want to know the answer. Once he looks up at you with his cheeks flushing red, you decide, “Actually, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

Han just nods apathetically and opens the box, pulling the roll of foil packets out. He tears one off carefully, tosses the box down onto the nightstand, then hands the single condom to you.

“Will you…?” 

You look up at him with wide eyes, but then nod and sit up, understanding what he wants.

“Yeah, of course. Come here.”

Hanji crawls onto the bed and kneels between your spread legs, and as your fingers tear the corner of the packet open, he tilts your chin up and kisses you again. When you try to pull away, his shaky, whiny breath asks you to stay.

“I need to see the condom to get it on you,” you mumble against his lips, and he sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. You both look down, then, watching your fingers carefully remove the condom from its packet. You make sure it’s facing the right way before pinching the tip and settling it against the head of Han’s blushing pink prick.

“Ahh,” he moans softly, biting his lip to try to stifle himself as more sounds beg to be released. He’d been so good about not touching himself under the guise that it would make him last longer when he got to finally get inside, but now he realizes the flaw in his plan as you slowly roll the condom down his length. He feels like he’s so pent up he could bust right now.

“Maybe I should finger you first,” he says unsurely, sitting back to look at your whole face and gage your expression.

“Why? I’m wet enough, I can assure you.” Your hand dips between your thighs and expertly dips into your heat, slipping against your labia both on the way in and back out. “See?” You hold up your two sticky, shiny wet fingers to Han, and his cock noticeably twitches.

“Oh my god.” His hand darts out to grab your wrist, and in the blink of an eye your fingers are in his mouth. His tongue swirls around and between your fingers, sucking every bit of taste from them as he can.

“Okay, actually,” he says when he releases your fingers. “I need a taste first.” He gently pushes you back, and you comply, butterflying your legs out to the side as Hanji lays between them.

Just like when he couldn’t resist sucking your tits as soon as he saw them, he goes at your pussy like a man starved, not for your pleasure but for his own.

He laps at your cunt, licking bottom to top multiple times until he can’t tell what’s your wetness and what’s his spit. Then he parts your labia with his fingers and flicks his tongue over your clit incessantly, taking your breath away.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, hands digging into his hair. “Hanji, you’re not going easy on me.”

He hums in half-ass acknowledgement, suckling, trying to give a little extra stimulation to your clit before his fingers prod at your vagina. Once again he makes you moan when two slide in, and once again he doesn't go easy on you as his fingers immediately begin to curl upward, looking for that perfect spot that will make you pull his hair and forget how to talk.

“Han-- Oh fuck-- Hanji, I thought-- I thought you were gonna fuck me. If you don't stop I’m gonna cum.”

Han’s rhythm falters, his tongue slowing and his fingers stilling. His previously closed eyes open and he peers up at you.

“Would you beg for it?” he asks, dipping his head back down to suckle at your clit again. “How many times have you heard me beg for it?” His fingers slowly begin to move again, teasing as they drag against the bumpy flesh inside your vagina. “Would you? If I kept eating you out instead, would you beg for my dick?”

“Mmm,” you whine, squirming, almost too embarrassed to admit that you would. But then his expert tongue comes back into play, circling around and around and you whine loudly and blurt it out.

“Please, Hanji. Please fuck me. I want your cock so bad. I want it inside me, please.”

You swear you hear him gasp as his head flies up, his eyes open wide, his drenched mouth hanging open yet still smiling. His fingers are out of you and quickly planted into the sheets beside your body as he almost literally leaps upward to align himself with you.

“Oh, fuck,” he grunts, hips already bucking as he tries to line his tip up with your pussy. “That was so fucking hot. God, I need you so fucking bad.” He ends up bumping your clit several times, whether on purpose or not, before he finally catches on the opening of your vagina and jerks forward an inch or two. His whole body jerks and his head hangs low and you sweeeear for a second he just came, but then he sinks fully into you with the longest, most pornographic moan you’ve ever heard in your bedroom life, and you know your dramatic best friend is just taking his time enjoying you.

“Oh my god,” he whines, kneeling between your legs with your hips fully touching. He lays his torso on yours, his head and soft hair landing on your chest. He pants like he’s trying to catch his breath and he keeps blessing your ears with these tiny, whiny moans. “You feel so good,” he mutters.

His hands roam your arms trying to your find your hands, and when he makes purchase and intertwines your fingers, he’s pinning them to the side of your head and raising himself back up above you. The feeling of him shifting inside you makes you clench around him, and you both moan when his cock twitches.

There’s one thing you can’t say about this encounter, and that’s that it lasts very long. He begins apologizing as soon as his hips start their work, his practiced dance rhythm keeping him perfectly in time as he fucks you.

“I’m so sorry y/nnie,” he huffs, “I’m gonna cum so fast.” He brushes his thumbs against the sides of your hands. “I want you so bad. I want you so bad.”

“Hanji,” you moan, squirming your hips up to meet his. “Feels so good. Ahh, fuck. Fuck, you can cum whenever you want. Just don’t leave me hanging.”

“Would never,” he swears, furrowing his brow. “Nng, fuck. I’m gonna make you cum so good. Gonna make you feel so good, y/nnie.”

“Please, Hanji. Make me cum.”

“Yeah,” he says, voice keening upward an octave. “Yeah, y/nnie. ‘M gonna make you cum. ‘M gonna-- ahh!”

He doesn’t have the resolve to stop himself when it feels so good. Instead he buries himself as far as possible when he cums, imagining the way his hot spurts look filling up your pretty pussy, even though he knows the condom catches it all. It doesn’t stop him from picturing you leaking pearly white for him to slurp up and spit back into your mouth.

Another time, maybe. Another time.

“Y/n,” he sighs, letting go of your hands finally as he gives you a few more weak thrusts to milk the last good feelings from his orgasm before it gets too sensitive. “I love you.”

“I know, Hanji,” you say, softly smiling at him. “Love you too.”

The corners of his mouth twitch in a way you can’t read as he pulls out of you with a final sigh. He carefully rolls the condom off and ties it off before running it to the bathroom to drop in the trash.

As soon as he’s back in the room, he’s nestling between your legs again, wasting no time in sliding two fingers into you and circling your clit with his tongue.

“Fuck me with your fingers,” you tell him, guiding him to your orgasm. He does what you tell him, speeding up when you want, going harder, staying “just like that” until you’re cumming around him, leaking a good bit of watery cum that he excitedly notes in the back of his head for future exploration.

He licks you clean, teasing with the tip of his tongue around your swollen clit and sensitive hole a few times before finally relenting to your pleas of “enough, enough.”

When he finally lays down beside you, hugging you tightly despite your whining that it’s too warm, you’re both too sweat-sticky to be cuddling right now-- he tells you he loves you again.

“This is the third time you’ve said that in the last half-hour.”

“Yeah and you only said it back once.”

“I love you, Hanji,” you say in a teasing tone.

“Love me how?”

“Huh?”

“Love me how?” he repeats, flicking a stray piece of hair out of his eyes. “Because I love you like I’m trying to date you.”

“What?!” 

“Ahh, I’m so lame,” he says, visibly cringing at your shocked reaction. “Post nut clarity is stupid. I’m being so blunt! And boring! I just feel so good and I love you so much and you’re so beautiful and I want you so bad.” He hugs you tighter, sighing and pouting at you. “Do you feel the same, y/nnie? Do you love me?”

“I-- Yes, Hanji, I do. I love you. I wouldn’t have ever let you touch me if I didn’t want you as more than a friend.”

“Say you’ll be mine,” he spits out quickly, nearly stumbling over his words in excitement. He hooks a leg over yours and forces both of you to squirm and writhe as he exclaims, “I love youuuu! Say you’ll be mine! Say it!”

You laugh, trying to fight against the wriggling, but his grip is too firm around you.

“Okay, okay! I love you, Hanji! Let’s do it! Let’s be a couple.”

His movements stop immediately and he beams a breathtaking smile at you.

“That’s amazing. You’re amazing.”

“Oh, stop.” you say bashfully, playfully shoving him back, but this time he actually does let go of you and flop onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, still smiling.

“We should wash up,” you tell him softly, turning to get up.

“We?” he asks excitedly, and you barely bite back a giggle.

“I said what I said, didn’t I?”

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning

TW: Self Harm Mentioned/Implied

AN: next update our ladies will have a proper reunion but first tree farm tree farm! (Even though only the poor kids- and Bob- are the only ones super excited about it)

Transcript under the cut

Nancy Narrates: [All those years I’ve spent yearning, wanting, my whole self calling for her—and now she’s here]

Nancy Narrates: [This isn’t a dream. She’s here. I can feel the warmth in her cheek]

Nancy: I- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to- I don’t know why I did that. I shouldn’t have-

Vanessa: [laughs] It’s ok, Nancy! It’s good to see you too.

Vanessa: Wow, look at you. You’re all grown up, aren’t you?

Nancy: I- I-

Vanessa: Still filled to the brim with tears too.

Nancy: [softly] Sorry. I thought.. I thought I’d never see you again.

Vanessa: 16 years is a long time. I was worried you would have forgotten all about me.

Nancy: I could never forget you.

Vanessa: I’ve come all this way to see you.

Nancy: Have you really?

Vanessa: I know it’s been years, but I was hoping we could reconnect. I’m staying at the Fyres Hotel. Maybe we could have dinner there tonight. Catch up?

Nancy Narrates: [I had to physically restrain myself from saying yes. I realized, after all these years, I still would have followed her anywhere...but it can’t be this way. Not anymore..]

Nancy: [exhales] I can’t. I’m sorry. I had plans.

Vanessa: Ah! Well. I did pop in last minute. Maybe some other-

Nancy: You could come with me! I mean, If you like? We’re supposed to get a Christmas tree for the house; trying to set new traditions and what not.

Nancy: It’s silly but it’s important to them- my sons. I have two boys, by the way. I have to do this for them but- you’re here and I don’t know if I can see you leave again. God, am I rambling too much?

Vanessa: You want me to go tree shopping with you and your children?

Nancy: [blushes] Will you?

Vanessa: Lead the way.

-

Malcolm: What’s taking that lady so long!

Jonathan: Should we try and call mom again?

Geoffrey: [hums noncommittally]

Malcolm: He’s not even listening!

Bob: Hellooo? Earth to Geoffrey?

Bob: Iggy say, ‘what’s eatin’ ya, Uncle G?’

Iggy: [coos]

Geoffrey: Heh, sorry! Sorry. I guess I got alot on my mind right now.

Eliza: Is everything ok?

Geoffrey: Oh, yeah! Yeah, yeah- well...I guess I’m thinking about Nance?

Eliza: What’s wrong with Nancy?

Geoffrey: I’ve been thinking about what happened on our anniversary trip.

Bob: Yeah? What was it?

Malcolm: Mommy’s here!! Mommy’s here!!

Malcolm: Er, who’s that with my mommy?

Bob: Well, I’ll be damned! Talk about a throwback!

Eliza: [whistles] Oh, wow! Who is that? Is she a model?: Well, I’ll be damned! Talk about a throwback!

Geoffrey: Vanessa Villareal?

Nancy: These are my sons, Jonathan and Malcolm.

Vanessa: Oh! Oh, Nancy, they are beautiful.

Malcolm: Who are you, lady!

Nancy: Don’t be rude, darling. Vanessa is- was- she’s my..

Vanessa: I’m your mother’s best friend.

Jonathan: I’m Jonathan, but call me Johnny. This loud mouth is Malcolm.

Vanessa: Johnny it is. You must get those cool, blue eyes from your mom’s brother.

Jonathan: You knew my Uncle Nathan?

Vanessa: No, but I saw a picture once, a long time ago.

Vanessa: [turns to Malcolm] And you look just like your mother.

Malcolm: Are you a movie star too?

Vanessa: [chuckles] No, I’m not a movie star.

Malcolm: Then who are you lady?

Vanessa: I’m your Auntie V. You can call me that, if you like.

Malcolm: Aunt V, are you gonna pick out a tree with us?

Vanessa: You bet. You should know, I have a keen eye.

Nancy: Sorry I’m late..

Geoffrey: Better late than never. I see you had an eventful day.

Malcolm: No more talking! Let’s go already!

Jonathan: I want to find our tree with mom!

Malcolm: Well I’m taking daddy!

Bob: Alright! Long time no see, VV! Man, it’s been a while, huh?

Vanessa: Just V is fine. Billy, right?

Bob: [sighs] It’s Bobby. This is my wife, Eliza and this cool guy is Iggy.

Vanessa: [sheepishly] Right. Nice to meet you. Wasn’t there another one of you?

Bob: [chuckles] Cassie. We still keep in touch. She’s a travel blogger now. And I’m sure you remember ol’ Geoffrey here.

Geoffrey: Good seeing you, Vanessa.

Vanessa: Likewise.

Bob: Heck yeah! Let the festivities begin!

-

Jonathan: This one! This is the perfect tree, right, Mom?

Nancy: Mhm. Yes, that’s nice- I’ll be right back.

Jonathan: Oh..

Bob: Alright, what’s going on? You can tell me, it’s just us guys now, and Iggy here is great at keeping secrets.

Geoffrey: Nance was so sad on our trip, sadder than usual. I haven’t seen her so low since- well, since Vanessa left. And she kept apologizing to me.

Bob: You’ve mentioned before she gets in a mood sometimes, right?

Geoffrey: Well, yeah... that’s not all. I saw these bruises on the inside of her thigh.

Bob: [eyes widen] You think she’s hurting herself?

Geoffrey: Is that it, you think? At first I thought they were- you know, hickies?

Bob: Whoa. Hickies? On Nancy?

Geoffrey: [snorts] That’s crazy, right?

Bob: You should talk to her. If she is harming herself, you should get her help, bud.

Geoffrey: And if it’s not that...

Bob: Then, that’s another kind of conversation. But this is Nancy we’re talking about. You two have been bit by the love bug since high school. I can’t imagine her having an affair with some other guy.

-

Nancy: Hi.

Vanessa: Hi.

Nancy: Sorry if I’m being...odd. I guess, I’m still getting used to seeing you.

Vanessa: I don’t think you’re being odd. I think you’re being you.

Nancy: Is that a bad thing?

Vanessa: [giggles] No, not at all. You haven’t changed and it’s refreshing.

Nancy: Ah. Well. You haven’t either. I mean..you still feel like my Vanessa.

Nancy Narrates: [All those questions I craved answers for came rushing back to me the more I looked at her. Was my loving her just a girlish memory of our past? Did she ever hear my voicemail? Was it worth mentioning after almost 2 decades apart? After I’ve already married and had children? After I’ve sworn to dedicate my all to them-]

Vanessa: So, about that dinner. Are you free tonight?

[aventurineswife]

In the quiet, galactic space of the Astral Express’s observation room, you find Dan Heng standing alone, his form ethereal and strong, back turned to you. In his Vidyadhara form, he appears almost otherworldly—a being of dragon heritage with sharp features, midnight-black hair that fades to teal, and curled horns casting shadows on the walls. His clothes, a blend of warrior regalia and quiet elegance, reflect both his heritage and his inner conflict.

You hesitate at the doorway, admiring the serene yet guarded figure before you. He knows you’re there—Dan Heng is never unaware—but he says nothing, his gaze fixed on the stars beyond the glass. In the silence, the space between you feels almost sacred, as if speaking would shatter it.

Taking a deep breath, you step forward, daring to approach him. “Dan Heng?” you say softly.

He glances at you, eyes a striking, vivid green that glow faintly in the dim light. For a moment, his gaze flickers with emotion—something raw, buried deep within. But he holds it back, as he always does, his face returning to the composed expression you know so well. “You should be resting.” he murmurs, though there’s no admonishment in his tone.

You can’t help but give a small smile. “I couldn’t sleep. And… it seemed like you could use the company.”

For a moment, he says nothing, but his silence is answer enough. Slowly, he nods, turning his face back to the galaxy. Encouraged, you come closer, standing beside him as the two of you gaze out into the void. His presence is calming, yet electric; you can feel the restrained power within him, the weight of his lineage and the memories he hides.

“You don’t talk about it much.” you say quietly, unsure if he’ll answer.

He tenses slightly, but doesn’t move away. “There isn’t much to tell.” he replies, though you sense the reluctance in his words.

“Even if it’s just with me?” you ask, heart pounding as you reach out to him, your fingers brushing against his hand.

For a moment, he remains still, as if deciding whether to let you closer. But then, slowly, he turns to face you fully, his hand slipping into yours. His eyes are intense, searching your face for something, perhaps reassurance or understanding. It’s as though he’s teetering on the edge of something—vulnerability, maybe, or trust.

“Being here, with you…” he murmurs, voice low and filled with an emotion he can’t quite conceal, “makes me wonder if there’s a part of myself that I could share, that isn’t… tainted by the past.”

His words stir something deep inside you, a mixture of empathy and a need to bridge the chasm he keeps between himself and everyone else. You reach up, your fingers lightly tracing his cheek, his skin warm beneath your touch. “You’re not defined by what’s happened. You’re allowed to want more. To want someone.”

Dan Heng’s eyes search yours, his breathing shallow as he lets your words sink in. Then, his hand lifts, his fingers ghosting over yours as he draws you closer. His forehead rests against yours, a sigh slipping past his lips, as if he’s finally allowing himself to let down his guard.

The moment stretches, filled with a quiet tension. Then, his lips meet yours, soft at first, cautious. But as you press closer, a new urgency fills the air, the kiss deepening as he lets go of his restraint, just for you. His hand slides up to cradle the back of your neck, his fingers gentle yet firm, drawing you in as his lips part, inviting you further.

It’s then that you feel it—a faint, unfamiliar sensation against your tongue. You realize it’s his split Vidyadhara tongue, a delicate, serpent-like touch that’s both unfamiliar and thrilling. A shiver races down your spine as he explores, his breaths growing unsteady. The unique feel of his split tongue intertwining with yours is mesmerizing, an intimate act that seems to bare the quiet vulnerability he keeps hidden from everyone.

Dan Heng’s hands settle at your waist, his hold tightening as he pulls you flush against him. Each movement is tender, filled with a longing he rarely lets himself indulge. His lips trace yours, slow and deliberate, as though memorizing the shape, the feel of you. His breath mingles with yours, each exhale carrying the unspoken desire he’s kept buried.

For a moment, he breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours once more. His vivid green eyes meet yours, softened by an emotion that words can’t quite capture.

“You make me feel…” he murmurs, voice barely audible. He trails off, as though he can’t bring himself to finish, but his expression says enough. In his gaze, you see it all—years of solitude, of battles fought and regrets carried, all melting into the gentle warmth he shares with you now.

His lips find yours again, this time with a sense of urgency, an unspoken promise. His split tongue brushes against yours once more, sending a thrill through your senses as he pulls you closer, his hands sliding down your back, grounding you against him.

In that moment, the walls he’s built around himself crumble just a little more. Dan Heng, the stoic guardian, allows himself to be vulnerable, to be human, if only with you. And as he holds you, lost in the quiet intimacy of the moment, you realize just how deeply he feels for you, even if he may never find the words to say it.

[greengoblinswifey]

first, i’m a big fan of your work! i’d like to make a request for the fratboy!nicholas series. i was listening to rude boy by rihanna just now and that inspired me to think about nicholas finally channeling his inner dom. i need HIM! i’m talking praise and degrading, but his cute ass would still ask for consent of course and reader is hyping him up.

Fratboy!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

warnings— SMUT. dom!nicholas, fingering, oral, face fucking, choking, consent checks, unprotected sex, rough sex, degrading kink, praise kink, hair pulling, ass slapping, face slapping(with dick), creampie, overstimulation, aftercare, fluff.

a/n— thank you and i love that song omg🫶🏽requests are still open and i’ll answer all as soon as i can, it’s been a rough few days with the whole election and kamala’s unfortunate loss. this is a bit long but enjoy!

Nicholas arrived at your dorm that night with a new energy, his usual relaxed demeanor replaced by something more intense, more purposeful. He didn’t bother with the small talk or the sweet smile he usually gave when he saw you. Instead, he stepped in and closed the door behind him, eyes locked on you with a focused determination you hadn’t quite seen before.

“Tonight’s different,” he said, voice a bit lower than usual as he took a step closer. “I- I’ve been thinking. About us. About trying things, uh, differently.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised but intrigued. “Oh, really? What brought this on?”

He chuckled, a bit of his usual lighthearted self breaking through. “I love when you take the lead but I decided I’d like to see what it’s like for me to take the lead, for both of us. I wanna be dominant, so I can make you feel as good as you make me.”

Moving closer, he reached for your hand, his grip firmer than usual. “If it’s something you’d be into, of course,” he added. His intent was clear, he wanted to create an experience for both of you, one where he could be the one guiding things, setting the pace.

You gave a small nod, lost for words, both surprised and excited by this new side of him. “Alright, Nicholas. Tonight, ima let you do your thing, show me what you’ve got.”

He smirked, confidence growing as he took in your approval. “Oh, I plan to, tonight I’m gonna give it to you harder,” he said, the playfulness still there but mingling with something deeper. He gently brushed his hand along your arm, lingering, studying the way you reacted to each of his movements. His touch, though familiar, held a new sense of authority, as if he’d spent time thinking this through and knew exactly what he wanted.

“You know,” he said softly, eyes meeting yours, “I think I’ve always been drawn to letting you take control. But I want this to be different, for both of us. I want to explore it with you, because you’re the first person I’ve trusted with this part of me.”

He pressed his body close, his hand moving up to rest firmly around your neck as you sat on the bed looking up at him, the action sending a spark through you.

“You like this?” he asked, his voice low, his eyes searching yours. You nodded, lips parting in anticipation, but he only gave you a soft smile, raising an eyebrow. “I need to hear you say it, so I know you’re 100% comfortable. Are you okay with this?”

“Yes,” you murmured, your voice just as steady as his. “I’m okay with it. I’m more than okay.”

He smiled, a glint of mischief lighting his expression. “Good girl,” he replied, “because tonight, I don’t plan to hold back.” His hand lingered at your neck as he leaned in closer. “But we need a safe word. I want you to know we can stop at any time.”

You thought for a moment, grinning as an idea came to mind. “Banana. You know I hate bananas,” you said with a smirk.

He chuckled, his grip easing as his thumb brushed lightly over your skin. “Alright pretty girl, banana it is.”

His intensity ignited something deeper in you. This was a side of him you’d never seen, but it made you crave him even more. In that moment, you realized that this shift in him wasn’t just about trying on a new role, it was a way for him to show how much he valued and trusted you, a way for you both to explore something new together in a safe environment.

Your eyes fluttered shut as his thumb gently ran across your lower lip. “Open,” he murmured, his voice rough and commanding. You obeyed, letting his thumb slip past your lips, your gaze meeting his as you sucked on it. There was a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes as he watched, a mix of curiosity and control.

“Good girl,” he praised, though there was a hint of a smirk that made his words feel more teasing than sweet. “I knew you'd be an obedient slut for me.” His fingers followed, and you could feel the arousal between you both growing as you took his fingers in your throat, this new dynamic thrilling you in ways you hadn’t expected.

He slipped off his shirt and then his pants, revealing the toned muscles underneath and his hard cock swinging. You felt your heart race as he looked down at you, his expression filled with lust and a look in his eyes as if he wanted to devour you.

“Your turn,” he said, a trace of a smile on his face. “Fucking strip.”

You followed his instruction, stripping down piece by piece. When you got to your underwear, he reached forward, and with a quick, decisive motion, tore it off. “I’ll buy you ten more,” he promised with a wink, his voice filled with an excitement that made you grin.

He tossed your torn underwear onto the bed with a grin. Gently, he used his hard cock to trace along your cheek, spreading his pre cum all over your face as his onyx eyes met yours.

“Stick that tongue out,” he murmured, his voice low and you felt your pulse quicken. You followed his request, sticking your tongue out and he used his cock to slap on your tongue, the taste of his pre cum making you moan.

“You’re doing great baby,” he murmured. As you met his eyes again, you could see how much he was enjoying this newfound confidence, his smile widening as you took him into your throat.

“I’m gonna treat you like a slut yeah? Gonna hold on to your pretty curls and fuck your throat, remember your safe word if you want me to stop at any time or just tap my thigh twice,” he said, taking himself out of your mouth and rubbing it all over your lips.

His eyes searched yours for any reluctance or fear, only to find pure admiration and lust. Smirking, he held on to your curls, and shoved his cock into the back of your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on not gagging as his hips snapped forward.

“I like the way you pull my hair,” you muttered around his cock.

“Fuck yeah, take it baby, take my fucking dick down that throat,” he moaned, his head falling back.

He pulled out, looking down at you with his face contorted in pleasure as he used his dick to drag across your face and slap your cheeks.

“You like that sweetheart? Is that okay?” he asked and you nodded frantically, wanting him back in your mouth.

Sensing your desperation, he began fucking your throat again, this time his pace never faltered as he began chasing his orgasm. You swirled your tongue over his cock as much as you could, he made your mouth feel so full, just the way you liked it.

“That’s my good girl, my good fucking slut just taking my cock in her mouth, that’s all you’re good for isn’t it?” he chuckled, darkly.

You hummed around him sending jolts of pleasure throughout his body. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum down your throat and all over that beautiful face, get ready slut, stick that tongue out for me again.”

With a deep moan, turning you on even more, his load spurted on your tongue. He began stroking his cock vigorously, making sure every drop was either in your mouth or all over your face.

“That’s my girl,” he moaned, “you look even prettier with my cum all over your face. My fucking slut. Make sure you swallow it all.”

After his high subsided, he pulled you into a close embrace. “That was more than I could’ve hoped for baby, are you okay? Was that okay?” he asked warmth in his tone that left you feeling closer than ever.

“It was more than okay, stop worrying,” you smiled, playfully nudging him, “I like when you take control.”

He smirked and his demeanor immediately shifted again. Nicholas pushed you on the bed, the shy virgin since forgotten.

“Spread those fucking legs,” he demanded. You complied, spreading your legs and revealing your pussy glistening.

“You’re soaked baby, does me being in control turn you on? You like when I take the lead?”

You nodded, dipping your fingers between your thighs trying to subdue the throbbing but he grabbed them before you could. “That’s my fucking job and I’m the only one allowed to touch this pussy unless I instruct otherwise, got it?”

“Yes sir.” You throbbed even more at his firm words and he swore his cock twitched hearing you refer to him as ‘sir’.

“My slut is learning, good girl.”

He knelt down, his mouth immediately engulfing your pussy without warning and you cried out.

“Nicholas,” you moaned, your hands instinctively going to his hair as you squirmed under his touch.

“Mm— stop fucking squirming and take it,” he murmured in between licks.

You struggled to contain your moans as his tongue focused on your clit and giving you no room to adjust, he slipped two fingers inside you, curling them and immediately finding your g spot.

“Fuck, you taste amazing, baby,” he muttered, his licks now becoming more precise as you clenched around his fingers.

“Please don’t stop, please, keep going, just like that,” you moaned, your back arching from the bed as you felt your orgasm approaching.

“Oh I’m not fucking stopping until you squirt for me baby, so go ahead, squirt on my tongue,” he commanded.

As soon as the words left his lips, your legs clamped around his head but he forced them back open, his slurping, sucking and fingering relentless and you squirted all over his fingers and in his mouth, still sucking everything that came out of you.

“What a good little slut, that’s my good girl, keep gushing on my tongue baby, you taste amazing.” He continued fingering you and flicking your clit through your orgasm, getting as much as he could out of you. You tried to squirm away, the pleasure was becoming too euphoric but he continued until there was nothing left in you.

“Give me a kiss, you did so good for me baby,” he said, voice thick with lust. You leaned up and kissed him, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling his body between your legs.

“Eager now are we? Calm down sweetheart, you’ll get this dick, I know you want it,” he smirked.

“I absolutely love this side of you,” you beamed, giving him another kiss on his wet lips.

Before you could say anything else, you gasped as his cock filled you, inch by inch.

“Fuck Nick, baby, you feel so good,” you whimpered.

“I know baby, I know, just lay there and take this cock, I’m gonna fuck you hard.”

Your gasps filled the room as Nicholas began pounding mercilessly into you. Somehow, he managed to fit every inch inside you each time he bottomed out and slammed back in. Your nails dug into his back as he kept bruising your cervix. His pelvis snapping against your clit sent shockwaves through you and you could feel the impending orgasm.

“Scream for me baby, I wanna hear you scream like a whore from how good my cock makes you feel.”

His request was granted as he pushed your legs behind your head, pounding into you deeper with his hand around your neck.

“You look so fucking sexy spread open for me like this, I fucking love this pussy,” he moaned, his grip tightening just enough to have your head spinning.

You closed your eyes, clenching tightly around him and getting lost in the pleasure.

“Hey, open those fucking eyes, I want you to look at me when you’re cumming on this cock,” he murmured.

Opening your eyes, your jaw fell open with sweet moans leaving it as you came on his cock. Your body quivered but he kept going, determined to take everything out of you.

“Good girl, good fucking girl, I know it feels good baby, I know.”

He let go of your throat and you wrapped your arms and legs around him, pulling him close.

“Oh it’s not time for cuddles yet sweetheart, I wanna make sure this pussy remembers the fucking shape of my cock,” he said, his voice low but rough.

You were dripping for this man. He was so sexy dominating you.

He swiftly flipped you onto your stomach and pulled your ass up to him. “Arch that back for me, just the way you know I like it, slut.”

You arched your back and he spread your arousal all over your hole with his fingers making you shiver. You loved the way he touched you there, the way he showed you what he had.

He slapped your ass, admiring how sexy you looked with your ass in the air for me. “All for me, all mine.”

He rubbed the bulbous, leaking tip up and down your folds before slowly slipping inside you.

You winced at the intrusion, his cock slowly filling you. “Hey sweetheart, is everything? You remember your safe word right,” he asked, his demeanor changing and his cock pausing inside you.

“I-it’s okay, give it to me, baby,” you begged.

He leaned down and kissed your shoulder before the switch flipped again. He firmly gripped your waist before thrusting the entire length of his cock into your tight pussy. You moaned in unison, feeling each other fully and hearing the sound of your pussy squelching.

“Hear that baby? You get turned this on from being fucked like a slut?” he laughed, slapping your ass as he pounded into you from behind.

You moaned from the sting of the slap, your pussy clamping around him.

“Wow, you’re such a cock slut, my cock slut, take it.”

Muttering incoherent words, you shivered under his touch, all you could think about was how good it felt to have his dick just constantly pounding into you.

“Do you like it?” you managed to croak it, “you like fucking me like this?”

“You know I do,” he grinned, slapping your ass before grabbing your curls and pulling you back to his chest, “now rub that clit for me.”

You did as you were told, your back arching off his body as he held your hair, pulling your head back and sucking on the sweet spot on your neck. “Cum for me baby, be a good fucking cock slut and let go.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried, tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks as your body convulsed and you squirted on his cock, soaking him and the sheets below you.

“I never get tired of this gushing pussy,” he whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’m gonna keep fucking you and I want you to cum one more time for me.”

You whimpered in response, your body weak, not sure if you could cum anymore.

“I know a slut like you can cum one more time, take it, make me proud.”

His hand moved to around your neck, squeezing gently as he pounded into you.

“Take it, take it, take it, take this dick,” he moaned, his pelvis slapping against your ass.

“Mm- mhmm,” you moaned, willing this side of him on as you tried your best to take whatever he gave you.

“Your pussy is gonna have my cock forever engrained inside of it,” he chuckled, his pace now faltering.

“C- cum for baby, I know you have it in you, be my good girl, my pretty fucking girl and cum for me,” he said, breath shaky.

A cry left your lips as the fountain erupted from your pussy for the last time.

“M’ so proud of you baby, now take my cum deep inside your slutty fucking pussy.”

You both moaned as he pumped his load inside you, your pussy tightening around his thick cock that stretched your walls as he filled you to the brim.

“Good girl, that’s it sweetheart.” He thrusted slowly, making sure every drop was deep inside you before pulling out.

You both fell on the bed and he quickly pulled you close, turning to face you as he cupped your cheeks in his hands.

“Are you okay my love? Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked, a worried look in his eyes as he saw your tear stained face.

“I’m okay baby and I did, so so much,” you smiled.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, wiping away the cum and tears from your face.

“You didn’t Nick, it was perfect, I love this side of you, thank you for telling me you wanted this.”

After the intense moments you’d shared, Nicholas softened, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you. He pressed gentle kisses to your forehead, his fingers brushing through your curls in soothing, slow strokes. You melted into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his touch calming you, grounding you.

He whispered, “You did amazing,” his voice soft and filled with affection, his eyes still holding that glint of admiration. He continued to hold you for a moment longer, his thumb tracing gentle patterns along your shoulder.

After a while, he shifted, carefully slipping out of bed. “Stay right here,” he murmured, giving you a reassuring smile as he found a warm cloth and returned to your side. With tender care, he helped clean you up, his touch gentle, a quiet attentiveness in every movement. When he was done, he wrapped you back up in the covers and climbed back in beside you, pulling you close once more.

Nestled against him, you felt a mix of peace and contentment, the atmosphere in your dorm was now replaced by a calm that only he seemed able to bring. His fingers traced soft lines on your arm as he whispered, “I’ve got you.”

[aealzx]

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Update Post

Prologue | AO3

Previous

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“...o, he hasn’t woken up yet.”

Someone had entered the room that morning, and now Jazz was talking to someone that could have been them or another person entirely. The haze of their lowered conversation was helping to pull Danny from the fog of sleep. But after the initial part it sounded like the conversation was one sided.

“Clothes?.... Actually, I don’t know what he would like. He hasn’t bought anything for himself for two years now. And never has a response when we ask.”

That response made Danny feel like they were talking about him. Jazz and whoever she was talking to. It was probably on the phone. He felt a little bad, but what she had just said was true. He hadn’t really done much when it came to clothing lately. Sam and Tucker had mostly been the ones to give his Phantom attire an update, and he just hadn’t bothered to address anything else.

“No, I’m not going to wake him up. He needs his rest-”

“Mmm… ‘s fine, J’zz. ‘M awake,” Danny forced himself to mumble even though he wasn’t quite fully alert yet. Relaxing in the study the previous evening had been really nice, and his spirits had risen a little when the few sips of broth he’d had a few hours before bed hadn’t made him sick again. But he still felt like a truck had hit him in his sleep, which made that morning hard. “Izzat for me? Here…” he asked, lazily flopping his hand into the air so that Jazz could give him the phone.

Jazz seemed to consider it for a moment, but eventually sighed and walked over to put the borrowed cellphone in Danny’s hand. Danny couldn’t see, having not managed to open his eyes yet, but Alfred was waiting patiently at the door to get it back. For now Danny just flopped it next to his head and turned his ear into it. “Mm…’ello?”

“Danny! Good morning~”

It was Stephanie. Chiming in a bubbly way that was much too energetic for… what time was it? Still felt too early.

“So, we’re out shopping and getting some new clothes for everyone, but your friends are being unhelpful and keep saying you don’t have any kind of style you like. Soooo, you get to answer. What would you like us to pick up for you? And what size do you usually wear?” Stephanie rambled, anticipating Danny would have more answers than the others.

“Uhhhhhh….,” Danny stalled, both because he was still waking up and she had said a lot of words, but also because he didn’t have an answer. “I dunno. A t-shirt and jeans? I’m usually a size smaller than Tucker though.”

“Seriously? That’s it? That’s so boring,” Stephanie complained.

“See? We told you, but you didn’t believe us.” Danny could hear Tucker’s voice, and figured he was on speaker.

“He just kept wearing the same clothes he had when he was fourteen, and only has new ones because the rest of us bought some for him. But he was so unhelpful then too that we had to settle for just getting him space themed stuff,” Sam huffed, and Danny could hear her folding her arms in annoyance.

“Hey, I got a lot of other stuff to worry about than clothes,” Danny protested to defend himself.

“You like space themed stuff though?” Dick’s voice chimed in now.

“Yeah, I still like space,” Danny confirmed. “Can’t do much with it these days, but I’ve always wanted to be an astronaut,” he admitted, feeling a little embarrassed about admitting his childhood dream.

“Cool. What about puns?” Dick hummed, adding another question quickly.

“No. Dick, don’t you dare,” Stephanie scolded.

Danny could only smile though. “I love puns,” he confirmed, not able to pick out who was all contributing to the chorus of groans and complaints, “Why? You got a good one?”

“Maybe. You’ll see,” Dick’s response was with barely held mirth. “Thanks kiddo, take it easy,” he bid before ending the call.

Well at least that was something to look forward to. Danny’s smile didn’t fade as he lifted the phone from the pillow to hand back to Jazz, who then returned it to Alfred. He ended up rolling over and laying there for a little longer, which made Jazz giggle and run her fingers through his hair for a bit. It was comfortable, and at least he wasn’t so tired he fell asleep right after waking up.

“...Alfred made some more of the broth you got last night. Do you want to try some more?” Jazz eventually asked when Danny finally managed to keep his eyes open and focus on things.

Danny considered how he felt before answering, and ended up nodding. “These help,” he admitted, pointing to the anti nausea patch behind his ear. It was enough confirmation for Jazz to move to help him sit up, stuffing all the pillows she could behind him when he was upright so he wouldn’t have to worry about spilling. The broth really did taste good, despite only being slightly warmer than room temperature. He found that if he only took small sips, and waited awhile between them he didn’t end up with his stomach wanting to revolt again. Maybe eventually he’d want a fat burger again, but for now this was enough.

He soon learned that he hadn’t woken up until after 10:00 am, but while that felt weird to hear he eventually realized there was nothing wrong with it. Apparently the others had been out all morning, Stephanie having come to get them since it was a holiday for her school. Not that her attendance was stellar anyway with all the mishaps she ended up in during the daytime, but it helped convince Bruce to let her carry on. She’d even managed to drag Dick and Barbara to join them. And that and the phonecall earlier led to Dick being the one to burst into the bedroom shortly after noon with the bags he’d promised over the phone.

“Head’s up!” Dick called as the only warning before he tossed a new t-shirt over Danny’s head.

“Dick!” Barbara scolded mildly, having only heard how Danny was doing and not completely sure he was up for being harassed.

To her surprise Danny just snorted. “It’s fine. It’s just a shirt,” he excused, pulling the t-shirt off his face and spreading it where he could see. While Dick grinned triumphantly at Barbara before turning to watch Danny expectantly, Danny quickly read the text on the shirt and promptly half choked on a snort. “HAHAHAHA H-,” he erupted with full on laughter, wheezing as he tried to vocalize the text. “I have - PFFFF HAHAHA - so many prob- HHHHH Jazz,” he howled and wheezed, turning the shirt so his sister could see the astronaut image surrounded by the text ‘Houston, I have so many problems’.

“Oh-.... Ohhhhh that’s great,” Jazz grimaced, giving a thumbs up as the content of the shirt was enough to dampen her own joy over seeing Danny laughing so openly. Considering his current situation, Danny probably thought it was rather fitting.

“I’m so upset we were right that he would love that,” Sam grumbled with a shake of her head.

“I think it’s great,” Danielle chimed in, though not laughing quite as much as Danny since she’d already seen everything.

“Of course you do,” Tucker sighed.

“I have more!” Dick took that as a chance to continue, plopping on the bed and digging out another shirt to pass over to Danny.

“Oh no, I’m leaving. Have fun,” Tucker groaned, quickly heading out the door partially to get away from what he had a feeling was going to be a terrible session of puns and bad jokes, and partially to take care of his own haul. Sam was quick to follow his lead, dragging Danielle after them so she didn’t skip out on helping.

As Danny excitedly held up the next shirt another honk laugh escaped him, though not quite as uproarious as the first. “HA! Just need space. Classic,” he complimented, lowering the shirt to his lap and looking up at Dick again to see if he had more.

“This was the last shirt they had, but if you want more puns after I have plenty to give,” Dick complied, handing the final printed shirt over to Danny.

It took Danny a second to realize the graphic of the earth was suggested to be spinning, staring at the conversation between the characterized moon and their own planet. The moon was asking what the earth was doing, and the earth responded ‘Making everyone’s day’, and as soon as the joke clicked in Danny’s head he was almost crying with laughter again. He didn’t even notice Stephanie joyfully recording both of them.

“Give me what else you have,” Danny requested after getting his breath back, reaching out to tug on Dick’s arm. It felt good to laugh. Even if it hurt his ribs, hurt the still healing burns on his chest, it felt good to just sit and laugh about something stupid. He didn’t want to give it up just yet, and it seemed Dick had actually planned for this in the past few hours after learning Danny loved puns too.

“Alright, get comfy ‘cause I have got a real gemstore to show you,” Dick agreed eagerly, squirming up onto the bed next to Danny and getting comfortable as well where they could both look at his phone. He had a folder saved just for collecting his favorites.

Danny was quick to settle into place wedged against Dick’s side, quickly reading and giggling or outright barking more laughter as they flipped through the saved images of jokes ranging from ‘I’m more confused than a chameleon in a bag of skittles’ to ‘astronomers got tired of waiting for the sun to go down, so they decided to call it a day’. Throughout the scrolling and varying degrees of laughter at the jokes, Danny even added some of his own that he remembered after seeing some of the others. 

Eventually their session was interrupted by Damian pausing at the doorway, getting their attention with a light knock.

“Pennyworth would like to know if you would prefer supper in the study once more,” the youngest Wayne informed, and waited for the response.

“Who…?” was what Danny ended up responding with, having not heard people’s last names yet.

“Alfred. Damian calls everyone by their last names,” Dick thankfully supplied, earning a small noise of understanding from Danny. It wasn’t hard to tell the hours and hours of jokes had worn him out, but he seemed quite content so Dick didn’t feel bad. “You’ve upgraded to the couch already though? Hell yeah.”

The comment made Danny snort again, though he also had to grimace at Dick incredulously. “What kind of lifestyle do you people live?” he asked before giving a quick answer to Damian. “Here is fine for today. If that’s okay.”

“Why wouldn’t it be? Your recovery is of utmost importance to those in this household. If supper in bed will facilitate that, then it is of no consequence to anything else,” Damian responded easily, giving them a nod before leaving to report back to Alfred.

“Eh. We’ve had our fair share of injuries through the years,” Dick admitted to Danny’s question, lifting a finger to tap the small bandage on his own forehead once. “Enough that a knife wound is more like a papercut,” he half joked.

Danny snickered at the response, but wasn’t sure how he really felt about it. Was it really a good thing to be so used to being hurt that they seemed to have started making a game out of things relating to it? Maybe it was just something so inevitable for people like them, that they’d just had to make the most of it in the best way they knew how.

“Does it…,” Danny found himself speaking before he’d fully committed to the question in his mind. He had half the thought to retract his half voiced question, but opted instead to complete it. “Does it ever get to be too much?”

The question made Dick recognize a little more about what state of mind Danny was in, and his brows furrowed in concern before he eventually brought the smile back. “All the time,” he admitted. “Especially when you get all these meta humans and aliens involved. But… it’s too hard to stop.”

For a moment Danny had forgotten that the others, aside from Duke, didn’t have any special abilities that weren’t common for a regular human. It must be very stressful for them to have to deal with people like him that ended up rogue. But also, hearing someone else admit that they too, sometimes, only kept going because it was too hard for them to stop brought Danny a strange kind of bitter comfort. Maybe they were just all doomed together.

But, even if they were, at least he had company.

“...Thanks,” Danny chose to respond, relaxing a little more heavily into the pillows. The laughter had felt good, but the exhaustion and aches didn’t. “For all the jokes. I loved them.”

Dick could only grin fondly, reaching out to ruffle Danny’s hair after sitting upright. “No problem, kid. Anytime you need some more, just let me know.”

“Does that mean I can have your number after I get my phone back?”

Dick could only snort, having not expected that question. “Sure. We’ll figure something out for the whole interdimensional communication thing. I’m sure someone has already figured it out,” he chuckled, scooting to the edge of the bed to get ready to join the others at dinner.

Danny could only hum in acknowledgement, content with that answer, and let Dick leave to get his own food. Having someone to appreciate good jokes with was something to look forward to at least.

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Iiiii struggled a lil with this one too =3= But there were some notes I needed to be mentioned before getting too far along.

Thank you for whoever sent me some puns though XDD they really helped. I love puns, but I'm terrible at coming up with any or even remembering them.

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