#excited for the gatherings.. where I can show it off in-person (if I don’t get too shy lol)

[toadallytickles]

A friend of mine gifted me this cute crop top.. and of course I just had to show it off~ (¬‿¬)✧

[eroselless]

───────────────────somebody else // 3

series summary: you just work in hospitality for McLaren and he’s their star driver. what happens when your paths cross and you find yourself questioning your feelings for each other? [3.1k]

[lando norris x reader]

masterlist | previously

warnings: angst, insecure reader, unprotected smut (don’t be silly, wrap that willy!)

note: Magui is mentioned in this chapter and will be mentioned going forward and I know there’s lots of conversations on the internet about her. I honestly just used her in this story to avoid having to come with an original character. I don’t like to comment or get into driver’s actual personal lives so please if there’s any comments y’all want to make of her that doesn’t have to do with this story, please take it elsewhere. 

The morning inevitably comes, the early light filtering through the blinds, gently pulling you from your slumber. You blink slowly, discarding sleep from your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you suddenly remember where you are. Lando's arm tightens around your waist, and his face burrows deeper into your back, still deeply asleep. Carefully, you try to slip out from under his arm without disturbing him. His hold loosens reluctantly as you rise, and you begin gathering your things in silence. 

You catch a glance of yourself in the full length mirror he has sitting in the corner of the room. What you see is almost something pulled straight from a dream. Your hair is disheveled but in a way that only shows how deeply you had slept the night before. Lando’s shirt clings to your body, falling to the tops of your thighs. As you stand there, you can see him breathing deeply behind you. His arm is outstretched, reaching over your now empty spot on the bed. He’s almost lost in the clouds that are the blankets of his bed. 

You swell with emotion, the domestically of this moment proving to weigh too much on your chest. You swiftly pull the shirt off, fold it and leave it on a chair before putting on your clothes from last night. Moving towards the door, you feel your foot nudge something hard on the floor. Your eyes flicker down, seeing what you only assume is Lando’s phone resting there, almost dead. Picking it up, instinctively, you plug it into the charger by the bedside table, eyes catching a 12 hour's old message illuminating the screen. 

Your stomach twists when you see the name on the message. Magui. You’d see her linked to him, seeing him around Monaco with her things, driving her around in his cars. You peer over the phone, eyes reading over the words on the phone. 

The knot in your chest tightens as you read the text:

already missing you, when are you coming over again? last night was fun ;)

Every letter seems to twist in your chest like a knife. The implication was clear-–whatever happened last night, before your tryst under the dancefloor lights, was anything but friendly. Your breath hitches, and you set the phone down carefully, it feels too hot in your hand now. It's almost as if it’s trying to mock you with the memory of last night’s events. It was too good to be true, you think, the thrill of last night fading into the cruel light of reality. Maybe you happened to just be in the right place at the right time, a convenient substitute for something he had been craving. 

Your footsteps are light as you make your way out, taking one last glance at Lando’s sleeping form before closing the door behind you.

:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The sun is already high in the sky by the time you arrive at the track. The same excited buzz that lingers in the air feels different today, it causes your stomach to turn and every step you take feels heavier the further in you go. Your heart pounds as you step into the paddock, nerves running high as you anticipate Lando’s visit, a pavlovian reaction you’ve developed. But you’re assigned to the Ferrari garage for today, something about the overwhelming influx of guests and reporters.  

You’re grateful for the distractions, being away from the McLaren suite is a welcome relief–-you don’t think you could handle facing Lando just yet. You keep reminding yourself that it was a drunken kiss, a mess of touches that happened in the heat of the moment, a memory Lando might not even remember. The glow of the text message on his phone only reinforces that idea. It might as well be left off as a memory, you think. After all, it seemed to imply that he already had someone to occupy his time. You were just … there. 

You’re pouring a drink when you hear a familiar voice greet you from behind. Turning, you find Carlos leaning casually against a table, an easy smile hanging from his lips as you hand him a bottle of water.

“Looks like you’ve been promoted, working for the red team today,” he teased lightly.

You chuckled, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I guess they needed someone with my impressive drink-carting skills,” you joked, catching his eye.

Carlos grins, taking a long sip before lowering the bottle. “Well, at least you’re making this garage look better,” he adds, giving you a playful once-over.

You laugh again, this time a little more naturally, but as your eyes meet his, you see something shift in Carlos’s expression—his gaze briefly darting past you.

You turn just in time to see Lando making his way over, his strides purposeful. Carlos straightens, the easygoing look still on his face but a hint of something else lurking beneath it. The tension between the three of you is almost palpable. There’s that twist in your gut, the face you’d been dreading to see again. There was that voice that lingers in the back of your mind, once again reminding you that it told you so. 

“Hey, you,” Lando greets casually, his voice steady but lower than usual. He doesn’t hesitate pulling you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you in a way that feels almost possessive. His lips brush your cheek in a fleeting kiss, the scent of his cologne enveloping you. It’s warm, familiar, but it only makes the tension inside you grow. It makes your head spin. 

“Hi,” you manage to say, feeling breathless as you return the hug. Your voice feels quiet, fragile. Almost like if you spoke too loudly, it would shatter in your voicebox. You try your best to keep up the smile that had been painted on your face just a minute later. You can feel Carlos’s eyes still on you, watching the interaction closely. You can’t place Lando’s expression, unsure of what could be going on in his head. 

As you step back from Lando’s embrace, you give Carlos an apologetic smile before excusing yourself to attend to the guests nearby. With a quick smile, you excuse yourself, leaving Lando standing there, watching as you disappear into the crowd. The moment you’re out of earshot, the air between the two drivers shifts. 

Carlos arches an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t waste time, do you?”

Lando narrows his eyes slightly. “Just making sure everything’s in check.”

Carlos smirks, clearly picking up on the unspoken tension. “Yeah? Everything in check, huh?” He pauses, and then with a more pointed tone, he adds, “Including Magui?”

Lando stiffens slightly, but doesn’t take the bait. “That’s got nothing to do with this.”

“Hasn’t it?” Carlos tilts his head. “You know, mate, maybe it’s time you figure out what you actually want before someone else makes that decision for you.”

Lando frowns, not answering immediately. His gaze flickers to where you’re standing, deep in conversation with a group of guests. There’s a carefree look on your face as you interact with them, a genuine smile he can’t help but adore. Carlos, seeing the hesitation, claps a hand on Lando’s shoulder.

“Look, if you’re serious, don’t just sit around waiting for it to blow over,” Carlos says, his tone shifting from teasing to genuine. “Otherwise, someone else might step in. And who knows,” he adds with a smirk, “maybe I will.”

Lando gives him a look, but Carlos just laughs it off, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, man. You’ve got enough to deal with, but you’re playing with fire.”

Before Lando can respond, a team member calls him away, and with a final look between them, Carlos steps back, watching Lando go with a knowing smile.

:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The day passes in a haze, the roar of the engines filling the air and drowning the chatter in your head. You do your best to focus on your duties in the Ferrari garage, but the weight of Lando’s gaze bears heavy on you whenever you catch a glimpse of his car zooming past you on the track. It's like a tether—one that pulls tighter and tighter with every passing moment. 

The race finally comes to a close, the sun having fallen through the sky, dipping below the horizon. The energy in the paddock becomes electric as he comes in second, right on Carlos’s tail. The cheers and celebrations blur around you as the drivers finish their interviews, spraying champagne and basking in the excitement. You can feel Lando’s eyes on you, even as he stands among the flashing cameras and jubilant crowds of journalists. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as move around the paddock, eventually returning to the equally bustling McLaren suite. 

As the crowd thins, you don’t get far before you feel a hand wrap around your wrist that tugs you away from the crowd. It weaves you through the paddock, past the media, past the throngs of people, until you find yourselves alone in the privacy of his driver’s room. 

The door clicks behind you, the noise now muffled by the walls around you. The tension between you hangs heavy in the air as you stand nervously at the door, it's thick and suffocating. 

“Lando–”

He doesn’t let you finish. In one swift motion, he pulls you against him, mouth encapsulating yours with a fervor that catches you off guard. It's not unlike how he kissed you at the club but this time you have the reassurance that you’re both stone cold sober.

His kiss is heated, desperate, as if he’s trying to pour every ounce of feeling into that moment. The taste of champagne lingers on his lips, and you feel the raw energy coursing through him, a mixture of adrenaline and something deeper—something possessive.

Your body betrays you as you respond to his kiss, the want, the need of him too strong to resist. His hands roam your body, pulling a whine from your lips as he presses his hips to yours. He anchors you to him but it’s more than just a physical desire now. There’s something else in the way he touches you, as though he’s afraid to let go. 

It's dizzying, the way he holds you, his fingers digging into your skin. You respond just as eagerly, hands tangling in his curls, feeling the way his hair slips through your fingers, unruly and messy after being trapped under his helmet. He deeps the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips. Just like he did in the dimly lit bathroom, he seems to take your breath away, setting a fire in your chest.

You feel his body against yours, solid and warm, heat radiating from him like a furnace. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips firmly as he walks you backward toward the small bed. Your legs hit the edge, and you stumble slightly, but Lando doesn’t break the kiss, his mouth still moving with fervor against yours as he lowers you onto the bed.

He hovers over you, not yet ready to press his full body weight on top of yours. You whimper as his lips trail down your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there. It makes you arch your back into him, hands taking purchase of the thick muscle of his back. 

“Lando…” you breathe, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart. He responds with a low, guttural hum, his lips moving lower, his teeth grazing along your collarbone before his hands begin to tug at the hem of your shirt. You help him, lifting your arms as he pulls it over your head in one swift motion, leaving you exposed beneath him.

His eyes darken as he looks down at you, his breathing heavy. There’s something primal in the way he stares, as if he’s trying to commit every inch of you to memory. His hands find your skin again, exploring, caressing, his touch both gentle and possessive as his fingers trace patterns across your stomach, your sides, your breasts.

You feel your pulse quickening with every sleight of his hand, every kiss he places along your exposed chest. He takes his time moving over the vast plains of your skin, counting every freckle, every mole. He’s savoring you, trying engrave in his mind the way you taste, the way you feel against him, the way your whines echo through the room. You bite your lip to stifle a moan as his lips wrap around your nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud, sending shivers down your spine.

His hands are everywhere, stroking teasing, setting your skin aflame as he worships every inch of you. His lips trail lower, leaving a hot trail behind them as he moves closer to waistband.

Your lustful trans in interupted as you see his phone light up silently where it's thrown carelessly on the table nearby. He doesn’t notice it as he moves to unbutton your pants. You want to pull away, tell him to stop. Tell him you don’t want this, that you don’t crave this—the closeness, the intensity of his touch. But you don’t. 

It’s the same part that wanted him back in the club, under those neon lights. But now, even with him so close, the doubt lingers in the back of your mind. Magui’s name feels like a ghost between you, hovering in the room, even though you don’t dare utter it aloud.

You reach for him again, the feeling of his lips on the tops of your thighs bringing you back. You pull him up, pressing your lips to his once again. You tug at his fireproofs, pulling it over his head, revealing the toned lines of his body, muscles softly rippling beneath his skin. The rush of the moment stills for a second and now it's your turn to try to memorize what he looks like. 

Your fingers dance delicately over the taut skin, dragging them down his sternum, counting every mole and feeling each valley you come across. Your eyes flicker up briefly, catching a glint in his eyes you hadn’t quite seen before. But before you can mull over it too much, his lips find yours in a kiss that’s just as intense as before. 

His hands slide into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down, leaving you bare beneath him. The cool air hits your skin and you suck in a breath, the coolness being replaced by his warmth. His body is pressed against yours and hard as you might try, you can’t bring yourself to stop the sinking feeling you begin to feel in your chest. 

His kisses grow more frantic, more needy, and you can feel his desire for you in every movement, every touch. You respond in kind, your own need for him matching his as your hands roam his back, his chest, pulling him closer. The world outside the room fades away, and for a brief moment, it’s just you and him, tangled together in a mess of limbs, breathless kisses, and heated skin.

When he finally moves between your legs, you gasp, your body arching into him, craving the contact, the connection. His eyes lock with yours, and there’s a moment of stillness as he hovers over you, the weight of everything unspoken between you pressing down on your chest.

Each touch, each breath shared between you only makes that nagging voice in the back of your mind grow louder. Does he feel this way with her too? Is this just another moment, another temporary high, easily forgotten once the race weekend is over? Will he be quick to forget you as he’s forgetting her—quickly falling into her embrace as he is falling into yours?

The questions fail to reach your lips, dissolving on your tongue as he licks into your mouth. He pushes into you with a groan, his forehead resting against yours, and you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as the sensation overwhelms you.

The rhythm between starts off slow, tender, as if he’s trying to say a million words with every thrust, every kiss, every movement. But it’s not enough. Doubt still lingers in the forefront of your mind and even though your body responds to his ministrations, your heart remains guarded, wary. 

His pace quickens, his breathing ragged as he moves faster, deeper, and you cling to him, your own breath coming in short gasps as the pleasure builds. He cries your name, lips finding yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. It’s overwhelming, the feeling of him inside you, the way his hands grip your hips, the way he looms over you. 

Your body reaches its peak, but as the waves of pleasure crash over you, the doubt remains. You can almost imagine her in this same position, writhing beneath him as he gives himself to you. Her face haunts you, the image of them together, his hands over her, holding her just as tight. 

But you don't bring it up, you don’t ask the questions that repeat over and over in your mind. You're afraid of what the answer will be. Afraid that this moment will merely be a chapter in the novel of time, lost in the frayed pages of a book long hidden away. 

When it's over, he lies on your chest. It's terribly domestic as he draws circles on your exposed belly and chest, lips tracing over the skin tenderly. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. The words are there, waiting to be spoken—questions, doubts, confessions—but neither of you has the courage to break the silence. Maybe it’s easier this way, not confronting whatever this is. Maybe it’s safer to pretend it’s just the high from his victory, that this moment will pass, leaving no lasting trace.

His phone lights up again and you see his eyes flicker to it briefly before you both begin to rise from your temporary bliss. That's when you realize it. You don’t have the heart to keep doing this. The uncertainty, the doubt, that cry in the back of your mind. It’s all too much. You can’t be part of something where the lines are so blurred, where neither of you is willing to admit the truth.

So, you walk away.

tags: @sltwins @sarx164 @f1fantasys @obxstiles @moonvr @spideylovin @lipstickstateofmind

a/n: hi everyone, thank you much if you've gotten to this point! i was honestly so excited and surprisingly had lots of fun while writing this rather emotional chapter. let me know what you guys think of it, i always love to see what you guys have to say!

[finnbbl]

Hey, I saw your requests are open. Would you write something for 3Racha where something sad happens and the reader turns non-verbal to try and cope with it?

It's just a problem that I always have and I would like to know how you think the boys would react :)

3Racha when you’re nonverbal

3Racha Written

Prompt: Being friends with the main producers of a music group had its perks. But when you’re asked to accompany them a certain gathering, you hesitate when you figure out who will be there.

Genre: Angst/Comfort

Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Implications of trauma, alcohol and dr*g mention, I don’t think there’s any swearing, reader goes nonverbal.

A/N: I wanted to first start off by saying I apologize it took me a bit to get out. I’ve been in my own slump and I’ve found it super hard to find motivation for anything, especially writing and posting.

I wasn’t sure if you wanted a specific incident to happen where the reader goes non verbal, so I hope this is okay. I also wasn’t sure if you wanted it romantic or not, so I just kind of wrote what felt right in the moment. I tried to leave the situation vague so it could match with anyone’s experiences. I personally don’t like it too much (I honestly hate my writing so it could just be that LOL) so I can make a separate post with a text version, of course it would be a little bit different than this. Please let me know your thoughts 🙏

Requests - OPEN

Masterlist

Please read disclaimer in masterlist

Parties were the absolute worst. If you were forced to choose a least favorite thing on the planet, parties would be it. They’re loud and crowded; Worst of all, he’s always there.

3Racha had been nominated for an award. They had been invited to a big award show, a one where afterparties usually follow. You were incredibly proud of them, knowing just how hard they worked. They meant the absolute world to you, and to see them put their best foot forward and exceed tipped you over the moon. Previously, you’d turn them down when they’d ask you to attend with them, and you had a very good reason. Firstly, parties just weren’t your thing. You never fit in with everyone else growing up. Secondly, you knew that he was going to be there. You didn’t know what to call him. Putting a label on things had never felt right to you before. If someone were to ask him, he’d tell them you were together. But if someone were to ask you, you’d say it was complicated and you were content with how things were. You did that with everyone that seemed to be more than friends with you, commitment was a scary thing. But you did know that he was someone you never wanted to be around ever again.

You remember the way he’d always ask you to accompany him to one. He was the partier in the “relationship.” However, you’d always preferred to stay in. Nice and cozy in your blankets. One night, you decided to try and get out of your comfort zone. You wore something different, and put effort into your appearance. The moment he let his hand “accidentally” linger over your ass was the first sign of a mistake. The night only went downhill from there. Next thing you knew you were drugged and taken advantage of. It took you months to recover, months to find the will to get out of bed. Only Chan out of the three knew of this incident, but only very very vaguely. He only found out because he was the one nursing you back to your normal self again. You avoided giving him details, he doesn’t know the person, time, nor the place. You wanted to stick to using being tired as an excuse to politely turn them down. There was no way you could let them find out that you were just too weak to attend said gathering, especially because they don’t know what happened.

You listened to the boys explain how excited they were for this one. How this was such a big award, and how it was going to be so much different. The excitement that laced their voices made it hard for you to deny the question you knew was coming. “Do you think you could go with us this time?” They knew the answer every time they asked this question. A hesitant no, almost as if you were thinking about it. In reality, your mind was fighting off bad memories. It was hard not to think of it when even the topic was brought up, there’s no way you could bring yourself to revisit the place it happened. He was always going to be there, just like he was at every one while you knew him. Again, parties were his thing. So you were confident no matter which one you attended, he would be there. You were scared, to say the least. Scared of seeing him, scared of being pushed back into that dark room, scared of reliving what had made you feel so lifeless.

However, Han’s unintentional puppy eyes drew you closer and closer to the edge. How you wanted to see them happy. You weren’t sure if it was only platonic or if there was some hint of romantic feelings for them there, but you knew you loved them so much. Although the three knew the usual answer, they still proceeded to ask. They felt as they should always invite you, even if they know what your answer would be. However, this time you surprised them. With a quick purse of your lips, the words fell from your mouth. “Fine, but only this once.” The way their faces lit up when you agreed to go to with them brought a smile to your face. Though it quickly dissipated as your brain grabbed back at those awful memories. The guys were too lost in excitement to notice, but you’d prefer it that way. Everyone else had their own problems, so you hated adding your own on top of them.

The last few nights leading up to the award ceremony were filled with anxiety. Sleepovers with Chan were a mutually agreed way to get both of your minds off of stress. However your anxiety still managed to claw its way through what was supposed to be a comforting barrier with him. Chan was next to you, fast asleep which was something that was rare for him. Meanwhile, you silently cried next to him. Hours passed and you were still unable to fall asleep, too busy fighting off the horrible memories. Horrible memories of a time in your life that left you numb. You couldn’t shake it, knowing that he was going to be there. He was a popular artist, and you’d already checked the lineup for the event. His name was there, and now you were petrified. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell them you changed your mind. They were so excited, so you dealt with it.

The night of the party arrived. You’d isolated yourself for the day, hoping to prepare yourself enough for what was about to come. Hours passed and next thing you knew you were sat between Chan and Changbin on a fancy couch. Despite it being a fancy event, Han sat on the back of the couch with his feet on either side of you, his hands slowly running through your hair. It was a common thing for you to do with the three, often being very touchy with each other. It was to the point where you questioned if you were more than friends. While you didn’t kiss, or do anything beyond that, you were very hands on. Cuddling, hugging, playing with each others hair or outfits, you name it. However, you couldn’t decipher whether it was platonic or if there was a hint of romance in there.

Suddenly, an all too familiar voice snapped you out of the peaceful thoughts that managed to distract you for.. at least a little while. Soon enough, your worst fear of the night happened. He placed himself on the couch right across from you guys. The first 20 minutes or so, he had the subtlety evil smirk on his face.

However, you knew it would dissipate sooner or later. Based on your experience with him, he was an extremely jealous person. And given, how important skin-ship was to you and the three boys, it was only a matter of time. It happened when Han noticed you were quieter all of the sudden. His fingers came to a slow stop in your hair to travel down to your shoulder. His head leaning down to your ear to whisper something.

“Are you alright, jagiya?”

It was quiet, quiet enough where only those within a 3 inch radius could hear. So you wonder why you saw that man who you feared, drop his smirk to a frown. Maybe he read Han’s lips and noticed the word ‘jagiya’ ? Either way, you ignored it, and with a nod and a small smile which was noticeably forced, you brushed off Han’s worries insisting you were just tired. Changbin took notice of his member’s concern, and leaned in close to reassure you that the event would be over soon. You gave him the same smile and quietly thanked him.

Thats when he suddenly started staring daggers at you from across the room, his hand clenching onto the almost empty soju bottle. He was drunk, for sure. That had to have been the scariest part. It only added more fuel to the fire, you were silenced. Except nothing was physically stopping you from speaking. Your head dropped down, staring at your nails that now started to dig into the palms of your and in an attempt to quiet the voices in your mind. It was a bad habit you picked up when you got anxious. Recently, it’d been worse so you currently had crescent shaped markings left behind on the center of your hand. Han noticed the tension in your body, and leaned down to express his concern once again.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You’re very tense.”

No response. As much as you wanted to reassure him that everything was okay, you couldn’t. It felt as if your throat was closing up, you couldn’t speak or move. You were anxious, overstimulated and all you wanted to do was jump out of the window. Anything to escape.

Your eyes were now staring daggers into the floor, and your body was completely still. Did you even hear him? He wondered at your lack of response, however it didn’t take long for him to pick up on it. But before he could say anything else, Chan’s hand gently but swiftly grabbed yours. Holding your hands in such a way that your nails couldn’t fight their way through your skin again. Chan was a very observant person, so it didn’t take him very long to notice the marks on your hands. That’s when Han recognized what was going on, Changbin following in their suit not but a few moments later. Once again, Han leaned down to say something. He was well aware that you were nonverbal right now, but he said it anyways hoping you could at least muster the energy to tell him you wanted to leave. You suddenly felt a hand on either shoulder, which were now rubbing soothingly into your tense muscles. “Do you want to leave? Chan still has to say his goodbyes to everyone, but I can take you outside.” This sentence was whispered into your ear, and the word ‘leave’ sparked your attention. You nodded almost too eagerly.

With that, Han motioned for you to stand up, saying something to you excuse yourselves. Chan let your hands slip out of his, looking over at his band mate and Changbin to silently communicate everyone would be leaving soon. You were unsure of what he said, now focused on not making eye contact with a certain someone right across from you. The closer to you that Han got, the more anger you could feel emitting off of the man in front. That only left you more anxious. Suddenly, Han put his arm around your waist gently to guide you out. The anxiety started to die down as you stepped out of the building, but the tears you were fighting didn’t. “You okay?” Han softly questioned as your eyes looked up to meet his. It took him not but a brief moment to notice your glossy eyes. He immediately pulled you in for a hug, which caused you to break down. Still unable to speak, you only mumbled out incoherent words that the male tried so hard to pick up on. Fortunately for him, he was able to make out a few words which told him everything he needed to know.

You felt unsafe is what it was. Although he wasn’t sure why, it was a step. Han would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t sense anger and tension in the room. The reason was what he couldn’t figure out. His head rested on yours, gently rocking you back and forth hoping to calm you down. Suddenly the door opened, but you remained still. As Chan and Changbin walked over, your breathing began to slow down. “Sorry n/n, I did my best to get us out as soon as possible. They don’t know when to shut up.” Chan apologized and rubbed his hand up and down your back. “Come on, we’ll talk later. Let’s get her out of here.”

Once you all arrived home, everyone went to their dorms. Except you stayed back at Chan and Jeongin’s. Although the younger was in the middle of a brand deal, which left you and the latter alone in the dorm. The trio agreed it would be better if you stayed with one of them for the night, so they decided on the leader’s as it would be the calmest. Your body lay next to him on his comfortable mattress, the lights set to a soft and comforting purple color with the tv playing a movie on the lowest volume. The male laying next to you, with his hand running up and down your back. Your eyes followed the movements of the character on the screen, but your brain wasn’t absorbing any of the plot. It was obvious this was a difficult night for you, but Chan just had to know.

“Feel free to not answer, I know you’re still not in a talking mood..” He led on, and your head raised to make eye contact with him. “Was that the guy… from you know.”

You did know, you knew exactly what he was talking about. Your facial features remained still, looking back and forth between both of his eyes as you mustered up the energy to get some form of response out. With that, you only nodded before turning back to the movie. Chan could swear he felt his heart break and everything suddenly clicked in his mind. If he had known it would only cause you anxiety, then he wouldn’t have pestered you to go for so long. “I am sooo sorry y/n.” His other arm found its way around you as he rested his head on yours. “We wouldn’t have pressed so hard if we knew what was going on.”

Although you didn’t respond, your hand found its way to his and gave him a light squeeze to reassure him that it was okay. “I know I don’t know the whole story but you can always talk to me about how you’re feeling, alright?” A small smile formed on your lips and your head nodded against his, nuzzling further. He let out a light and squeaky giggle as he ran his fingers over your knuckle gently. It was in this moment that you realized it was all going to be okay.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Running to You

Word count: 725

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: In the midst of a bustling paddock, Y/n, Lando’s biggest supporter, cheers him on with boundless pride, proving that to her, he’s already a champion—no matter the results.

______________________________________________________________

When Lando’s lap time solidified on the board, Y/n’s heart practically exploded with pride. She didn’t care that this was just qualifying — every single session felt monumental because she saw the effort he put in every day. With a laugh that was half a cry, she sprinted toward him, pushing through the paddock crowd until she was within arm’s reach.

“Lando!” she shouted, her voice trembling with excitement. He turned at the sound, and his face softened immediately as he saw her coming, a grin spreading across his face. Y/n didn’t slow down; she flung herself into his arms, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as he caught her effortlessly, pulling her close with a warm laugh.

“Oh my God, Lando, you were amazing!” she cried, her voice full of tears as she clung to him. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he cradled her against him. “Hey, it’s just quali, love,” he murmured softly, but his eyes shone with happiness.

“To me, it’s everything,” she replied, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. Her hands gently cupped his face, and she spoke so only he could hear. “You’re my champion, Lando. Every single lap, every single session, you give your all, and it’s incredible. I don’t need a title to know how amazing you are.”

He gazed at her, speechless for a moment, his eyes glistening with the emotion he didn’t often let himself show. “You make all of this worth it, you know,” he whispered, his voice rough. “Having you here… it’s like having my own little victory every day.”

Y/n’s eyes filled with happy tears, and she was about to reply when she heard a familiar voice call out, breaking into their little bubble.

“Oi, Lando, is your girlfriend crying for you or for your time?” George Russell teased, grinning from a few feet away, arms crossed as he watched them. Around him, a few other drivers had started to gather, each one of them wearing that familiar, playful grin that made Y/n roll her eyes.

She turned, standing a bit taller as she faced them, holding tightly onto Lando’s hand. “Oh, please,” she called out, waving them off. “As if any of you could pull off a lap like that!”

Pierre Gasly chuckled, feigning hurt as he nudged George. “Hey, I put in a pretty decent lap myself!”

“Sure, Pierre, but where’s your biggest fan?” Y/n teased right back, raising an eyebrow. “Unless you’ve got someone who’d sprint across the paddock to scream for you?”

The drivers all laughed, exchanging looks with each other, but Y/n could tell they knew they’d lost this one. Yuki Tsunoda raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning. “Alright, alright. We get it. Lando’s got a personal cheerleader, and the rest of us just have to live with that.”

Y/n grinned, crossing her arms as she leaned into Lando, who was laughing, his face red with both pride and embarrassment. “Exactly,” she replied with a smirk. “And I’ll be cheering louder than any of you guys can handle, so get used to it.”

Carlos Sainz gave a playful shrug, laughing. “Guess we know who’s winning the fan section today.”

As the drivers moved on, still chuckling and throwing each other good-natured teasing glances, Y/n turned back to Lando, feeling the world around them melt away again. She looked up at him, her hands moving to rest on his chest as she took a breath, her smile softening. “They can tease all they want,” she murmured. “But no one will ever understand how proud I am of you.”

He placed his hand over hers, his gaze tender as he looked down at her. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand how I got so lucky,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “I just know that having you here… it makes me feel like I’ve already won.”

Y/n felt her cheeks heat up, and she bit her lip to keep her emotions in check. “Well, get used to it,” she replied softly, brushing a hand across his cheek. “I’m always going to be here, cheering for you. In every race, every qualifying, every single lap… you’re my champion, Lando.”

“Good,” he whispered, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Because I’m never letting you go.”

[cakesunflower]

lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 12

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

A/N: hehe i think y'all might enjoy this one. it's a longer one

“Have a good one, see you!” Isla calls out, smiling at the family that leaves The Wreck as she cleans up one of the tables, stacking used cups on the tray she holds in one hand. 

The business day is winding down as the sun begins its slow descent, and Isla is glad her parents decided not to hold the usual business hours this weekend while they’re out of town. Unsurprisingly, it was a long and bustling day, which is always the case during peak tourist season. But Isla doesn’t mind the busy hours, keeping her occupied as she waits tables and cleans up once the customers are gone.

Throughout the day, she does her best not to check the time too often, the hours spent being excited for her plans later that night. Isla booked her and Rafe tickets for a comedy show on the island over after getting dinner; it’s not anything special, like how he made her dinner, but it’s a fun thing to do that she thinks they’d both enjoy. She has been looking forward to it all day and from Rafe’s texts, so has he. His anticipation, funnily enough, makes her stomach flutter even more with excitement.

Not that she can share it with anyone, so she just goes about her day as normally as she can.

Fifty-six minutes before she can clock out, Holly, the assistant manager, comes bursting out of the backroom leading into the kitchen. Isla looks up from the table she’s clearing, the bin of dirty dishes resting against her hip, and her heart drops when she sees the alarmed expression on Holly’s face. “Hey, what’s going on?” Isla asks, putting the bin on the table and meeting Holly by the counter. “Everything okay?”

Holly lets out a shaky breath, fingers running through her hair. “My, uh, grandpa had a heart attack—” Isla’s eyes widen, breath hitching in her throat as she takes a hold of Holly’s trembling hand. “He’s in the hospital. I know it’s last minute, but—”

“Go, go,” Isla cuts her off, squeezing Holly’s hand. “I’ll close out here. Go be with your family.”

Holly nods, eyes glassy. “Thank you, Isla.”

“Of course,” Isla says, watching as Holly moves in a daze, clocking out and gathering her things before she leaves The Wreck.

Isla exhales slowly, worry for her friend tightening her chest. She knows how close Holly is with her grandfather, so she hopes that he will be fine. Shaking her head, Isla turns back to the table to grab the bin, her thoughts slowly drifting to the sudden change of plans. As she hands the bin off to Oliver to take back to the kitchen, Isla faces the reality that she won’t be able to make her date tonight with Rafe. With Holly gone, Isla is the only employee on shift who can close out the restaurant, and with when the restaurant closes and the time it will take for her to close out the register, they will definitely not make it to the show in time.

Shit.

Going behind the counter, Isla sighs and pulls her phone out from the back pocket of her denim shorts, lips twisting to the side in dismay as she texts Rafe.

don’t hate me. Holly had a family emergency so i have to close. might have to rain check :(

She pockets her phone after sending the text, sighing as she doesn’t bother to check the time, since she won’t be getting out of here as soon as she thought. Glancing towards the glass wall that looks out to the outdoor seating area, Isla notes that the sun is setting, painting the sky in a pretty combination of pink, orange, and purple. A plane flies overhead in the distance, its lights blinking as it passes by while Isla wipes a table. 

When she’s ringing up the bill for one of the tables, her phone buzzes, and she pulls it out to see that Rafe has texted her.

Rafe:

Are you closing by yourself?

She’s quick to text him back.

Isla: yeah

Rafe: 

When does the last of the staff leave?

Arching an eyebrow while reading his text, Isla’s pulse skitters as she replies.

Isla: 

9, why?

Rafe: 

I’ll be there.

Her eyes widen when she reads those three words, blinking at the message a couple of times, as though the words will change, before she forces herself to text him again. She asks what he means, what he’s planning, but all Rafe does is send her a smiley face emoji and doesn’t answer otherwise, which has her grunting in both frustration and amusement.

The rest of the time goes by without another word from Rafe, which only makes her suspicions grow as more and more of the other staff clock out for the day. When nine o’clock hits, Isla is the only one at the restaurant, the shadows of the chairs slanting against the floor and walls as she begins the process of balancing out the registers. Except, when 9:05 hits, there’s a knock on the front door of the restaurant, which has been locked, and Isla pauses, staring at the door in weary surprise.

Before she can even call out, she hears a familiar voice on the other side. “Isla, it’s me.”

A surprised exhale escapes her, the corners of her mouth turning up as she hurries from around the counter and to the door, unlocking it quickly before pulling the door open and grinning at the sight of Rafe. Her pulse quickens as he smiles back at her, blue eyes dancing with mirth as he takes in her surprised expression.

“I was looking forward to seeing you all day,” he says as he takes a step toward her, and Isla tilts her chin up to keep her gaze locked with his as he nears her. The breath hitches in Isla’s throat when his hands rest on her waist, her skin exposed thanks to the crop top she wears, the heat of his touch spreading throughout her body as he pulls her flush against him. “I’m too greedy for a raincheck.”

Isla laughs, a hand gently fisting the front of his shirt to pull him towards her. “That makes two of us,” she muses before standing on her toes, and Rafe is quick to oblige by ducking his head to press his lips to hers. The moment he kisses her, Isla moans softly against him, pulling him more towards her and into the restaurant. 

She can’t help but smile into the kiss at the fact that he came to see her, his lips soft as always and the taste of him making heat shoot through her, dampening her underwear the second his tongue slides along hers. Isla’s knees weaken, melting into him as they step further into the restaurant.

“Sorry I had to cancel,” she mumbles against him, her finger trailing along the sharp edge of his jaw.

“It’s okay,” he replies, pulling a giggle out of Isla as Rafe rains kisses down her neck, his hands sliding so his arms can wind around her waist as her skin electrifies everywhere his lips touch. “You’re just doing a friend a favor. You’ve got a good heart, Isla Carrera.” She can feel him smiling against her skin, a breath escaping her as his teeth teasingly graze that sensitive spot where her jaw meets her neck. “It’s one of the many things I like about you.”

She smiles dazedly at the ceiling, eyes fluttering in response to his kisses and words. Rafe has the dangerous, wonderful ability to overwhelm her with his touch, the delicious smell of him, his taste. “Really?” she asks, her voice breathless. “What else is there?”

Rafe chuckles, the sound low in his throat. “Maybe we should shut the door before I tell you, hm?”

“Oh, right,” Isla breathes out. Rafe laughs again, pulling away from her, and though she misses the closeness, she moves to shut and lock the door. But Isla giggles when Rafe’s arm remains winded around her waist, her hands gripping his arm as her back presses to his front. “You gonna let me go?” she asks as she steps to the door, Rafe coming along with her because of how he holds onto her.

“You can still close it,” Rafe muses unapologetically, his arm still protectively wrapped around her.

Isla laughs, but she doesn’t protest, not when she can feel the hard lines of his body against her as she reaches out and shuts the door. “Never thought you’d be the clingy type,” she teases as she locks the door, turning her head ever so slightly to look up at him behind her.

“Neither did I,” Rafe mumbles, loosening his grip enough for Isla to turn around and face him. He’s got that charming smile, the one that makes her heart skip too many beats. “Guess you bring it out in me.”

She shakes her head with a laugh again. “I need to close out the register,” she tells him.

He hums, nodding, and looks around the restaurant. As Isla walks back to go around the counter, he asks, “You need to get any other work done?” When she looks at him, he flashes her a smile, hands in the pockets of his pants. “I can help.”

“Really?” Isla asks, arching an eyebrow in amusement as she types on the register screen. With a playful tilt of her head, she asks, “Have you ever even touched a broom?”

Rafe throws her an affronted look before wiggling his fingers at her. “Where’s the broom?”

Laughing, Isla points to the closet door by the entrance to the kitchen, eyes tracking Rafe as he walks over to it in a confident stride and pulls the door open as she begins counting the money in the register. Her smile remains, a combination of surprised and amused, as Rafe grips the broom in one hand and the pole connecting to the dustpan and heads to the back corner of the restaurant to begin to sweep.

The fluttering in her chest returns as, while she counts, she watches him sweeping the floor, moving the chairs and getting under the tables. Much to her surprise—or maybe she just didn’t give him enough credit—he doesn’t fumble with the broom and pan, and isn't moving around stiffly or awkwardly. But either way, the sight of Rafe Cameron doing her work for her and sweeping her family’s restaurant forms a ball in her throat because much like everything else he does, Rafe does this with confidence, too.

He moves effortlessly around the floor, sweeping and gathering any dust or forgotten straw wrappers into the pan, and Isla loses her count more than once, too distracted by him. Much like everything else she has done with Rafe lately, this also feels surreal, as though if she looks away, he will disappear and that’s. . . Not at all what she wants.

It’s not until Rafe is dumping the dustbin’s contents in the trash that he arches a brow at her. Tone deeply teasing, he asks, “Does it normally take you this long to count the register?”

Heat pools in Isla’s cheeks, too aware of his playful grin because, well, he’s got a point. She usually does it in a few minutes, no problem. But Rafe’s presence is a severe distraction and judging by the gleam in his eyes and the smirk curving at his sinful mouth, he is well aware of the effect he has on her. Especially with how he stands with his hands gripping the top of the broom, standing tall with a straightened back and squared shoulders.

“No,” Isla huffs, locking the box with all of the cash that needs to be placed in the safe, which is in her parents’ office in the back. Picking up the heavy metal box, she mutters in embarrassment, “I’ll be back.”

It doesn’t take long for her to get her work done in the back. When she comes back out, she sees Rafe standing in front of the window that looks out to the outdoor patio of the restaurant, since Isla brought the blinds down on the other window panes save for one, which Rafe stands in front of. 

Her pulse is a steady beat as she approaches him, admiring the moonlight bathing his sharp, handsome features, and smiling shyly when he looks over at her. Despite the mirth dancing in his softening eyes, Isla rolls her bottom lip into her mouth and turns her gaze out the window, feeling a sudden wave of embarrassment wash over her when she notes the sky has darkened, the stars appearing in the cloudless sky.

She bites the corner of her lips, inhaling sharply as she buries her hands in the back pockets of her shorts. And then Rafe bumps his hip to hers, noting the way he’s looking at her curiously when she looks up at him. “What’s that face for?” he murmurs, blue eyes looking over her face.

Isla’s expression turns to one of apology and regret, sighing. “I was looking forward to our date tonight,” she mumbles, distinctly hearing crickets chirping outside in the otherwise quiet of the night. Cringing slightly, she adds, “This is not what I had in mind.”

“Hey,” Rafe chuckles, turning to face her and her breath hitches when he grasps her chin between fingers to turn her face towards him. His thumb gently presses to her chin as he dips his own chin, maintaining eye contact as he tells her, “It’s okay. This is good—”

“Come on,” she cuts him off with a scoff, shaking her head and effectively making his hand drop away—which she misses already. “You cooked me dinner and I had you come here and help clean and close out my family’s restaurant. This isn’t romantic at all,” she deadpans, shoulders sinking in dismay.

The corner of his mouth curves up, hinting at a dimple. He hums in thought, head tilting back as he gazes up at the ceiling for a moment. “How about we make it romantic, then?” he asks as he looks back down at her. “This time. . .” His finger hooks around the loop of her shorts and Isla lets out a quiet gasp of a lap when he gives her a sharp tug towards him, the warmth of his body seeping into hers. “You cook for me.”

Isla blinks, eyebrows rising. “Here?”

“Why not?” Rafe asks. “We’re at a restaurant. There’s food here, right? I’m sure something can be whipped up.”

He’s not wrong—except she can’t really think straight because, while his finger remains hooked around the belt loop, his thumb grazes along her skin just above the band of her shorts. The featherlight touch shoots sparks of electricity from where he touches throughout the rest of her body. Goosebumps prickle her skin as he brushes his thumb back and forth, her throat drying as she tries to get her thoughts straight.

Rafe dips his head towards her and Isla’s breath stutters when he brushes his nose along hers. “Right?” he repeats in a murmur.

Get it together, Isla. “Right,” she says, clearing her throat a little too loudly, because Rafe smirks and she blushes furiously. “Um—” She glances towards the kitchen, running through the things she knows how to make and searching for something that’s quick and easy. Looking back at Rafe, she asks, “How do you feel about chicken tacos?”

Rafe grins. “Sounds delicious,” he says, jutting his chin towards the kitchen. “I’ll help.”

She raises her eyebrows in surprise, but grins when he gives her a nudge towards the kitchen. The first thing Isla does is gather all of the ingredients and then they split up the work; she slices the chicken breasts, while Rafe grabs a small bowl to mix together all of the different spices and seasonings. 

They work side by side as Rafe asks, “You think we could get away with spending a day in Chapel Hill again?”

Isla smiles, glancing up at him. “I think so,” she answers. “You gotta take me to Sutton’s, remember?” 

He glances at her with that boyish grin as he adds some paprika. “I haven’t forgotten,” he murmurs, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was relieved that she remembered their conversation about Sutton’s, too. 

Another sneaky date to look forward to.

*****

“This is fucking delicious,” Rafe mumbles after swallowing a bite, using a napkin to wipe at his mouth as his wide-eyed gaze meets Isla’s. 

She grins behind her napkin, swallowing her own mouthful of taco. “No need to sound so surprised,” she says teasingly. “I do work at a restaurant, y’know.”

He lets out a short laugh, going in for another bite. “Yes, ma’am.”

Isla chuckles, taking a sip from the can of Pepsi as she looks out at the water overlooking the outdoor patio of the restaurant. It glitters under the moonlight, a sort of replica from their first date at the Cameron house, but this time on Isla’s turf. The candle in the glass holder flickers between them on the table, her hair out of its bun and falling down her shoulders in waves, the breeze dancing through the strands.

Her phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with a message from Kie. 

From: Kie🐬

soooo they’re playing a double feature, so i won’t be home until like 1 or 2, depending if Cleo and i get something to eat after

Isla’s eyebrows flick up, feeling Rafe’s gaze on her as she texts her sister back.

Isla:

all good, have fun!!!

“Kie’s not gonna be home until late,” Isla tells Rafe casually, tongue poking her cheek as she leans back in the chair, gaze lifting from her phone to meet Rafe’s.

His own gaze drops to her phone. “Oh yeah?” he asks as his eyes slowly meet hers once more.

The look in his eyes makes her stomach flutter, even if she put it there purposefully. But she can’t help it; she’s been imagining doing more than just kissing. The guy is a hell of a kisser, no doubt, and every time he touches her, Isla is sure her skin is going to alight with fire. In just those moments they have shared so far, Isla’s body reacts to Rafe in a way it has never done with anyone else, and she’s desperate to see how far that feeling, that sensation, goes.

Judging by the look in his eyes, she knows he is, too, and it only further intensifies the butterflies in her stomach. “Mhm,” she hums in reply, the corner of her mouth ticking up as she tilts her head to the side. “How about a change of scenery?”

Rafe’s eyes flicker over her face, like he’s searching her for any hesitancy, but Isla has never been more sure of anything. This thing with Rafe—this relationship—came quickly despite Isla’s initial hesitancy to even acknowledge her feelings. But now that she knows exactly how she feels for Rafe, knowing he feels the same, and acknowledging the way her body reacts whenever he just looks at her, Isla doesn’t want to pump the brakes to take things further.

He smiles, then. Charming and boyish as he tilts his head to the side. “I’m following your lead.”

Those four words are how, about twenty minutes later, Isla is pulling into the driveway of her house, eyebrows furrowing at her rearview mirror when she doesn’t see Rafe pull up on his bike behind her. “Where the hell is he?” she mumbles to herself as she kills the engine and hops out, shutting the door behind her and hiking her bag on her shoulder as she walks to the back of her car.

The automatic porch lights are on, as well as some of the sconces along the fence, so it’s not totally dark as she approaches the street, looking for Rafe. She spots him a second later, walking up the sidewalk towards her, and she lets out a confused chuckle as she asks, “What’re you doing? Where’d you park?”

“A couple blocks down,” he answers, gesturing with his head over his shoulder. “Just in case Kiara showed up early and saw my bike in your driveway,” he adds as he nears where Isla waits for him. Rafe comes to a stop in front of her, towering over her, as that slow smile curves his mouth. “That would’ve been fun to explain.”

Isla lets out a gentle laugh, her hand reaching for Rafe’s and her cheeks warm when he instantly intertwines their fingers together. “Come on,” she says, tugging him forward and leading him back to her house, welcoming the flurry of butterflies tickling her stomach.

The house is quiet, of course, when they enter, the only sound coming from her keys jingling together as she flicks on the floor lamp while Rafe locks the door behind them. When she turns to look at him, her stomach flips when she catches his blue eyes curiously wandering around the house as he slowly makes his way over to the long table along the wall that displays several picture frames. 

As she wanders over to him, Rafe muses, “You’ve always been shorter than Kie, huh?”

Isla huffs out a laugh as she stands next to him, looking at the pictures. Most of them are of Isla and Kie throughout many ages; because they’re Irish twins, their mom often dressed them up in matching outfits when they were younger, only difference being in color. They also looked quite alike as kids, though Kie always towered over her, and at this point, the differences in their features is prominent. 

“Yeah, Kie got Dad’s height and I got Mom’s,” Isla says, smiling. Her favorite picture of her and Kie is of the two of them mid-jump on the trampoline they used to have in the backyard, now long gone. They were eight and nine years old, wide grins on their faces, hair flying around them and hands up in the air.

She watches Rafe pick up a frame of Isla’s first grade yearbook picture, grinning widely to show off her dimples as well as the top two missing front teeth. Her gaze lifts to see Rafe smiling at the photo, soft and fond, making her cheeks warm as he murmurs, “Adorable.”

Isla rolls her smiling lips into her mouth, chin dipping in mild embarrassment. “If I knew you’d come here to look at all my baby pictures, I would’ve thought this through some more.”

Rafe chuckles under his breath, putting the frame down. “And why, exactly, did you bring me here?” he slowly drawls as he turns to face Isla.

She catches the knowing smirk that dances on the edge of his mouth, the kind that makes those butterflies in her stomach go into overdrive and heat curl low in her abdomen. The delicious kind of tension sparks between them, the breath hitching in Isla’s throat when Rafe’s hand settles on her hip for a brief second before his arm slowly slides around her bare waist as he steps towards her, effectively closing the gap between them as he looks down at her expectantly.

Her hand slides up his chest, the heat of his hand pressing to the small of her back, skin against skin because of her crop top, as she murmurs, “If you don’t know then I guess I haven’t been as obvious about it as I thought.”

His cologne wraps around her, her skin warming with their proximity as she watches the way his darkening blue eyes dip to her lips, which part under his intense stare. Rafe’s head dips, nose brushing along hers that sends electricity shooting throughout her body in an immediate, primal response.

Isla feels Rafe’s hand slide down from her back until he is cupping her ass through her denim shorts, heart stuttering when he squeezes. Desire mounts, throat drying with need as only inches of space remains between her lips and Rafe’s, every breath they take bringing them teasingly closer and frustratingly apart.

“Maybe try one more time,” Rafe says quietly, every word making his lips brush against hers, those electric sparks slowly growing into lightning strikes.

Isla leans into him, her pulse pounding in her ears and breathing already beginning to grow shallow as she is suddenly fueled by a surge of confidence and says, “My room’s upstairs.” Her bottom lip lightly drags along his. “Let’s go.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches, as though he’s trying to keep his own feelings, his wants, at bay. Isla watches him through lust-laden hooded eyes, wanting to know what it’d be like to see him lose control in this way. Kissing her and touching her in the way that he has so far is one thing, but Isla wants more. And if this guy is as good in bed as he is in kissing, then Isla would be in for a good, thrilling time.

His throat bobs once before he says lowly, “Lead the way.”

Her gaze meets his, immediately seeing the want and intention in his eyes, and as Isla’s pulse beats wildly, she takes Rafe’s hand in hers and takes a few steps back, pulling him along. Despite wanting to practically sprint upstairs, Isla teasingly moves slowly, gaze on him as she moves backwards, waiting to see how long it will take for Rafe’s resolve to snap.

They’re only halfway up the stairs when it does.

A low growl escapes him, and a startled—yet delighted—gasp escapes Isla when Rafe uses his grip on her hand to tug her closer. For a split second, Isla worries she’s going to trip down the stairs, but she should know better with Rafe. He immediately picks her up, muffling her squeal of surprise with a searing kiss as her legs instinctively wrap around Rafe’s hips, his hands gripping the back of her thighs as he carries her up the rest of the way. Isla’s own hands cup his cheeks, head tilting as she greedily deepens the kiss, moaning as her tongue slides along and tastes his.

“Which door?” Rafe grunts into the kiss and, through her lust filled haze, Isla realizes they’ve reached the top.

“Right hallway. Second door on the left,” Isla pants against him, reveling in the hard frame of his body against hers as her heart threatens to burst out of her chest when he walks.

He blindly makes his way, following Isla’s directions, and if Isla wasn’t too busy being totally lost in the kiss, she’d be impressed that he hasn’t tripped over or bumped into anything, having never been here before. In the dark, no less. But Rafe gets them to her bedroom, their kiss slowing as Rafe carefully lowers her and turns them until Isla’s back is pressed to the closed bedroom door, her body trapped between that and Rafe’s body.

She feels his hands slide to her bare waist, his touch igniting a fire just like his kisses, until the kiss slows until they’re pulling back ever so slightly to catch their breaths. Isla’s heart thunders wildly, hands on Rafe’s shoulders as her eyes flutter open to look at him with heavy lidded eyes. Her bedroom is dark, the only light coming through the windows between parted curtains, moonlight and the lamps in the backyard glowing into the room. It highlights Rafe’s silhouette, standing before her like some angel, and it does nothing to calm her racing pulse as Rafe cups her cheek, his thumb stroking her bottom lip.

Isla sees the subtle hesitance in his blue eyes that seem to be searching hers. She understands why when he gruffly asks, “You sure you want this?”

They’ve already crossed a line, Isla knows. But there’s also this acknowledgement that if they go through with this, then there really is no going back. And while that idea should have filled Isla with some kind of hesitation of her own, maybe double check if, in the long run, this was a good idea. But Isla doesn’t want to think. All she wants is the man in front of her, a truth she can no longer deny herself. She won’t let Rafe deny it, either. Come hell or highwater.

No matter what they may have to deal with in the future with her friends, they will do it together. Isla is sure of it.

To prove as much to Rafe, she doesn’t answer him verbally. Instead, Isla locks gazes with him and presses a hand to his chest and applies some pressure, forcing him to take a step back. She sees the disappointment—and understanding—flicker in his eyes, and she knows he thinks that she has changed her mind. Isla gently bites down on her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling too much, gripping the hem of her crop top before effortlessly pulling it over her head.

Her hair falls messily around her shoulders, but she doesn’t miss the way Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up, or the way his darkened gaze drinks in the sight of her in her lacy baby pink bra. Her layered necklaces remain displayed around her neck, body tingling when Rafe’s gaze dips to explore the newly exposed skin as, with a crazed pulse, Isla’s fingers find the button and zip of her shorts and she undoes those, too. A few seconds later, she stands in nothing but her bra and matching underwear, jewelry gleaming in the dark and blood rushing at the way Rafe looks at her.

She is rarely this bold, but something about Rafe spurs her, gives her a much needed push. Maybe it’s the look in his eyes as he takes her in that fuels her confidence, staring at her as though he is hopeless to look away. Just his stare alone has her wanting to clench her thighs together, wetness pooling in her underwear. It’s slightly cold in her room as the summer breeze flows into her room through the open windows, the curtains dancing in response, but Isla is hot in Rafe’s proximity, with the anticipation and hope for what’s to come next.

Isla takes in a silent breath when Rafe steps towards her, slow and deliberate, his own eyes darkened with lust as he meets her gaze. She lifts her chin and asks, “Do you need more convincing?”

Rafe is never one to back down from a challenge of any kind, Isla knows. Which is why she has to bite back a grin when Rafe closes the distance between them upon hearing her words, his hand gripping the back of her head and crushing his lips to hers. All bets are off after that.

Isla’s hands immediately fist the front of his shirt, easily parting her lips under his to greet his tongue with hers once more, reveling in the groan rumbles low in his throat as his warm hands grip her hips and he turns her, moving her backward toward her bed. When the back of her legs hit the edge of the bed, Rafe pushes her down and Isla happily pulls him down with her, still kissing him and loving the feel of his body, fully clothed, on top of her.

Her fingers thread through his hair as his lean, muscular body slots between her legs perfectly, Rafe’s fingers teasing the band of her underwear as he kisses the air out of her lungs. Isla gasps when he trails kisses down her jaw, her head tilting back into the mattress as he sucks on that spot in her neck, her grip on his hair tightening and moaning when he uses his teeth to gently bite, tongue to soothe. His hand slides from her hip to between her legs, and a whimper escapes Isla when he brushes his knuckles along the flimsy, damp cloth covering her pussy, her hips jerking with need.

“Rafe, please—” she says breathily, eyelashes fluttering at the ceiling when she is sure what she is feeling is Rafe’s finger hooking around the middle of her underwear that covers her. Then there’s the deliciously tight, stinging sensation of the fabric suddenly growing taut, thinning until it’s pressing sharply between her pussy lips, and her mouth drops open in a silent moan when she feels the wicked sensation of Rafe’s tongue licking up the center through the stringed cloth.

Oh, God. Her fingers remain in his hair, holding him right where she needs him. Stars already begin to dot behind Isla’s closed lids, heart pounding in her chest and head as Rafe’s tongue teasingly flickers, one hand pushing her thighs further apart. “How about it, Isla?” Rafe asks, his gruff voice making goosebumps break across her skin. She barely manages to open her eyes enough to look at him, to see him watching her with those eyes from between her legs, the sliver of moonlight bathing him just so to make his eyes glow silver. “Gonna let me have a proper taste?”

He is somehow her angel and all of her wicked fantasies come to life as she all but begs, “Please.”

She never thought she’d beg Rafe Cameron for anything, but she can’t bring herself to be embarrassed about it.

Not when the corner of his mouth curls up into a smirk before he gives a tug to her underwear, pulling it down and moving her legs to the side to tug the flimsy material off, before Rafe wraps each arm around her thigh and pulls Isla towards him. She hears the faint sound of his knees finding the carpeted floor, raising herself up on her elbows to catch the moment Rafe licks a strip up her center and Isla damn near trembles at the electric sensation.

With his arms binding around her thighs and hands gripping her hips, Rafe keeps her close, having her on the edge of the bed, and the air is sucked out of Isla’s lungs as Rafe’s mouth works against her. Distantly, she can’t believe this is happening, but presently, she is already sensitive, feeling every minute movement of his tongue. When Rafe’s tongue flicks against her clit, Isla’s back arches off the bed with a sound that’s a half cry, half gasp. It makes colors dot her closed eyelids, Rafe’s grip on her hips unforgiving as he keeps her in place, his mouth continuing its delicious assault as he licks at her like a man starved.

Isla’s own fingers remain in his hair, keeping him close, her heart thundering so harshly it deafens her to anything else. “I fucking knew it,” Rafe growls against her, pulling away enough to brush a kiss against her inner thigh.

“Knew what?” Isla asks, panting, as she all but stops herself from demanding he keep doing what he was doing.

But Rafe doesn’t leave her hanging too much, his tongue teasing along her inner lips that has Isla moaning. “Knew you’d taste this good—better than I imagined,” he replies and then he sucks on her clit, and Isla can’t think of anything else but him and that sinful mouth.

“Oh, God, Rafe,” she moans, hips moving against him. She finds enough will power through her lusty haze to look down at him, stomach clenching at the sight of him eating her out—and so clearly enjoying it. Her head falls back against, gasping. “Please.”

She’s not entirely sure what she’s pleading for, but apparently Rafe does. “Greedy little thing,” he murmurs before Isla feels his finger sink into her opening, thrusting in and out in time with his tongue fucking her.

She can’t make sense of anything after that.

The combination of his finger and tongue electrify her from the inside out, her bedroom filled with the sounds of Isla’s moans, Rafe’s appreciative groans, and the crude sounds of his tongue lapping at her, bringing her closer and closer to that glorious edge. Then he does something with his tongue, curls his finger just the right way, and Isla is a goner.

Her climax hits like a tidal wave, white flashing across her closed lids and a sharp cry falling from her as her orgasm wracks through her body. Rafe doesn’t relent, licking her through it, taking everything she’s giving him. When her limbs become limp and eyelids heavy, trying to catch her breath, Rafe finally pulls away with one last kiss to her sensitive slit.

Isla’s eyes flutter open, breathing heavily as she watches Rafe stand at the end of the bed and begin to strip out of his clothes. Her already hyper pulse begins to race once more, not a moment of relief, with every inch of his skin that’s exposed as he rids of his shirt, and then his pants and boxer briefs in one go. Rafe’s darkened eyes look down at her still laying in bed, the desire clear in his face that it makes her skin flush even more as he runs his fingers through her hair.

Her gaze dips and the air hitches in her throat at the sight of his cock; hard and flushed at the tip, bigger than she expected. But it’s a mouth watering sight, and she’s not sure if she wants him in her mouth or her pussy first.

His lips gleam ever so slightly from his previous ministrations as Rafe slowly climbs back onto the bed, crawling over until he hovers above her. When their eyes meet, Rafe’s expression softens, looking at her in a way that makes Isla melt. She pushes up to kiss him, smiling when he instantly returns it, lips moving against hers as Isla reaches behind her to unclasp her bra and tosses it aside. 

Rafe’s hand slides up her side until he’s cupping her left breast, the feel of his large hand making her arch into his touch as the kiss deepens and he kneads her breast. “How is every part of you so perfect?” Rafe breathes into the kiss, his thumb flicking across her hardened nipple. “You drive me fucking crazy, Isla.”

“Good,” she murmurs, one hand in his hair. “Do something about it.”

“So bossy.” She can feel his smirk in his kiss before he pulls back slightly. “You got a condom?”

Isla arches an eyebrow up at him. “You don’t have one?”

Rafe snorts out a laugh. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t carry them around.”

Isla grins, cheeks pink. “Maybe you should.” She taps his shoulder. “Here.”

He pulls back to give her room to turn towards her bedside table, on her stomach and giggling when she feels Rafe’s hand lightly smack her ass as she pulls open the bottom drawer, digs blindly around for a second, and pulls out a condom. As Rafe puts it on after she hands it to him, Isla bites her bottom lip, the anticipation palpable as she pushes herself up to brush her lips against his.

“Can I ride you?” she asks, smirking slightly when she sees Rafe’s gaze tighten with desire.

She feels his hand slide to the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair as he exhales sharply. “If I ever say no to that question, then I’d have officially lost my mind.”

Isla laughs breathily and Rafe, with an arm around her, turns them so he’s the one on his back, head at the pillows, and Isla bites back a grin as she straddles him and, with a thrumming heart, her hand wraps around his cock. Rafe’s hands settle on her thighs as Isla moves until she’s hovering right over his cock, and when she locks her gaze with his, his lips parted in anticipation as he gives her a single nod, she slowly sinks down.

Her own lips part and a sharp breath escapes her as she sinks lower and lower, unable to keep herself from moaning as Rafe’s cock stretches her until she is fully seated. And oh, God, it’s a feeling she has never experienced before, a beautiful sensation of completion that robs her of her breath. Rafe’s abs clench in response, making her involuntarily clench around him with a soft whimper.

Rafe’s fingers dig into her thighs, his head tipping back and exposing the strong column of his neck as he lets out a quiet groan through gritted teeth. Isla tries to catch her breath—hopelessly—as her eyes squeeze shut for a moment to gather her wits, to adjust to the size of him filling her up so Goddamn deliciously.

“Fuck, baby,” Rafe hisses, and that’s enough to get Isla to move as she lifts herself up, weight on her knees on the mattress and hands on his torso, the air expelling out of her lungs as she pulls up enough until just the head of his cock is brushing against her sensitive pussy. His grip on her hips tighten, but Rafe lets her have control, her eyes meeting his glazed ones as she sinks back down again, lungs tightening as she continues her movements to set a pace.

Already, Isla knows that Rafe has ruined her for anyone else. Up and down, up and down, she moves along his length, his touch burning and her skin on fire as he watches her, his blue eyes glued on the way his cock buries inside of her when she sits down before rising back up. “God, fuck,” Rafe grunts, pushing himself up and wrapping his arms around Isla’s waist, their fronts pressing together.

The sudden press of his skin against hers has Isla’s lips parting and head tilting back, feeling one of Rafe’s hands threading through her hair and gripping tightly to keep her head tilted back. She somehow maintains her rhythm with the new press of his skin, his fingers in her hair and, all of a sudden, she feels his lips on her throat, kissing and licking as she bounces on his cock, the warmth between them easily increasing into an inferno. Distantly, she can barely make out the sound of her bed creaking beneath them under the sounds of her pants and Rafe’s groans.

“Come here, come here,” Rafe murmurs and a gasp of a giggle escapes Isla when he turns them until she’s on her back once more, his fingers brushing away her dark hair that had fallen over her face before leaning back, knees on the mattress and hooking her legs around his hips.

He looks like a god in the silver moonlight, a thin sheen of sweat glistening his chiseled muscles, dirty blonde hair messy from her fingers running through it. Isla’s already fiery skin heats up even more, if possible, under his intense gaze and she finds herself reaching forward, nails teasingly scraping down his muscled torso as she rasps, “Please.”

Any semblance of control Rafe still had snaps and, with a low growl that makes her clench around him, he sets an unforgiving, delicious pace. Isla is hopeless in keeping herself quiet, a combination of moans and Rafe’s name falling past her as he pounds into her, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling her room as she fists the comforter beneath her, while her other hand slides down to circle her clit. 

Her head spins, pulse crazed, as Rafe grips her hips, tight enough to leave bruises that she could admire in the morning light. Isla’s head tilts back, eyes rolling back and shutting as she gets lost in the stars that explode behind her eyes every time Rafe hits her in the perfect spot, and she needs something to give her some semblance of reality before she loses herself completely—though, not that she would complain. Still, Isla reaches for a pillow, bringing it next to her and turning her head into it, muffling her cries and moans into it.

But it’s short lived, because the pillow is snatched from her and she gasps in both surprise and at the way Rafe’s pace suddenly slows out of nowhere, rolling his hips to slowly slide into her. The next breath shudders out of her as Rafe moves over her, his nose brushing against hers and Isla wants to kiss him again as he murmurs, “I want to fucking hear you. No one’s home, baby. Let it out.”

He pulls all the way out, Isla clenching on nothing but air as a whimper leaves her at the emptiness, and through heavy lids she sees Rafe’s mouth curve into a breathless smirk. The tension in his jaw, his neck, tells her he’s holding himself back from burying into her once more as he gently moves her hand away so his own fingers can tease and circle her sensitive clit.

Isla arches into him, lips parted as Rafe’s teeth gently latch onto her bottom lip, tugging it into his mouth just as he oh-so slowly slides back into her. The air is locked in her throat as Rafe growls, “Let me hear you.”

And then he pinches her clit and she can’t stay quiet even if she tries, her back arching off the bed with a sharp cry as her hand flies to the back of Rafe’s head, fingers tangling in his hair as he returns to his brutal, greedy pace. His name is a chant on her lips and Rafe hits that spot once again and it’s over for Isla right then and there.

Her second climax hits her blindingly, body shaking as it crashes over her like a tidal wave, Rafe’s thrusts unrelenting as she rides through it until she feels him tense up a moment later before he is also coming undone on top of her. They cling to each other like a lifeline, their breathing ragged yet still in time as Rafe collapses on top of her, Isla’s fingers in his hair as his body presses to her and she welcomes the weight of him.

Their bodies are slick with sweat, Isla staring dazedly and absently at the ceiling as she feels Rafe’s lips against her neck as he, too, catches his breath. Every hard, solid inch of him presses into her soft flesh, the feeling one Isla doesn’t think she will ever get used to—or get tired of. She’s sure Rafe can feel her thundering heart, just how she can feel his as they bask in the afterglow, catching their breaths.

Staring at the ceiling fan, Isla’s sluggish thoughts slowly catch up to her, but the one that is louder than the rest is I just slept with Rafe.

And it was mind-fucking-blowing.

Nothing else matters, nothing else is important in this moment as Isla tugs her bottom lip into her mouth, feeling herself smile and cheeks flush with a newfound heat. Her fingers continue to absently run through his hair, letting out a soft sigh through her silly smile, just as Rafe asks, “You doin’ okay?”

Her heart swells at his softly spoken question, breath hitching yet her smile remaining when she feels the tips of his fingers brushing up and down her side in a featherlight touch. “I’m great,” Isla answers truthfully, and maybe Rafe hears the smile in her voice because he lifts her head, resting his weight on his arm by her side as he gazes down at her with a searching look. As though he wants to double check, himself, that she means it.

The way Rafe watches her makes Isla feel exposed—more so than what they just did, which is amusing, as heat pools in her cheeks once more. There’s a pretty flush to Rafe’s cheeks, too, which makes her stomach flutter, as blue eyes drink in the sight of her. “Yeah?” he asks, his fingers retreating from his side to brush away strands of her hair from her cheek.

She looks into those eyes, like two pools rippling with a combination of emotions that tighten Isla’s throat. Later, there will be time for her to replay the night, to calculate and pick apart every single thing she has felt. But for now, Isla raises a hand so her fingers can gently play with his side bangs, the smile that tugs on her lips soft and genuine as she answers simply, “Yeah.”

[chishiyaisasnack]

It’s under my skirt, Doctor

Hello everyone! It’s been a while. I finally got this little thing together, and I hope you all like it.

Disclaimer! This is smut. Stay away if you aren’t of agw or if you’re uncomfortable with the topic. Remember to use protection in real life!

Written and posted on mobile, I apologize for any wierd formatting.

Chishiyas life was work. Long hours, sometimes so long that he didn’t leave the hospital before his next shift. The couch in his office had become soft from where he slept, countless days and nights spent there alone. Not that it mattered, not to him. He liked his job. Kind of. There was nothing else he wanted to do anyway, so filling his life with something that kept his brain occupied and evolving was good enough. Once he stopped caring about all the injustice he focused solely on performing surgeries. The heart was an interresting thing, so small, so powerful. One wrong move and a life could end. Sometimes he wondered what that would feel like. He would never play with a life like that, he wasn’t completely insane, but the thought had showed up once or twice.

This particular shift got his mood turning all over the place. Everyone was whiny, rude and just hard to deal with. Twelve hours of pretending to be respectful was hard enough on the good days.

When he got back to his office he sank down into the couch, contemplating buying new cushions soon because they were starting to get uncomfortable. He needed to get his mind cleared out, to stop thinking about work and kids and parents who he wanted to toss in the trashcan.

A vibration went off in his pocket, making his head hurt just thinking about what they would need him for now. He just wanted to rest. So, when he picked it up and saw the notification on his screen he got pleasently suprised.

Y/N: Hey, sorry to disturb your work but I have a medical issue that I wondered if you could take a look at? I can come over in 10 minutes if that works for you.

He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. Normal people didn’t use the words ”medical issue” as a synonym for ”I want to fuck” but it worked very well for the two of them. Chishiya had met her at a work gathering and that turned out to be the best stress reliever he could wish for, and he knew that she used him for that exact same reason. Some might say that they were dating, but the only times they really met in person was just for sex and maybe some lunch afterwards. Chishiya did spend occasional nights at her place since she lived closer to the hospital than he did, and getting his dick wet then sleep in a bed instead of his office couch was a nice change.

Ten minutes later the telltale three knocks on his office door woke him up from his thoughts. Trying not to run to the door in excitement, he stood up, took a deep breath and changed into his normal ’I don’t care about anything’-face before opening it. The ’not caring about anything’-face changed as soon as he saw what was on the other end of the doorframe. He was not prepared for her standing there, panties hanging from slender fingers on one of her hands and her head cocked to the side. The skirt she was wearing was short and flowy, almost revealing what was, or rather what wasn’t underneath it.

”Eager are we?” Chishiya welcomed her in a smug voice, trying to hide the mess his head was already in. She winked at him in response.

”You usually don’t have very long so I thought I’d be prepared.” She walked straight to him, put the underwear in the chest pocket of his white doctors coat and kicked the door closed behind her. Chishiya could hear the click from the lock but was more interrested in the cleavage that her ”too tight to be comfortable”-top was showing. He didn’t even try to hide that he liked what he saw. He knew she liked it. A finger under his chin woke him up from his thoughts and when he looked up he was met with sparkling eyes full of excitement when she gazed back into his.

”Hmm.. I like how professional you look in this outfit” she purred as she smoothed her hands up his chest until she reached his neck, hands tangling in the blonde strands in the back until his hair tie fell to the floor, one thumb tracing his ear. ”I’d let you examine me any day.”

Chishiya rolled his eyes at her attempt at flirting, but rather than giving her a comeback he reached in and put his hands on her bare thighs, inching further up while he kissed that lovely space between her neck and shoulder that made her whimper every time.

”So, what did you want me to take a look at?” Chishiya murmered teasingly into her ear. She hummed and moved her hands back down to his shoulders, gripping onto the neck of his coat.

”It’s under my skirt, Doctor.”

In one swift move she grabbed the stethoscope still hanging around his neck and pulled him with her until they both hit the wall behind her, before crashing her lips into his with urgency, and Chishiya returned it with just as much desire as he was given. It was intoxicating, her soft lips, the sweet smell of her perfume, her hands tugging at his hair trying to coax him closer.

His hands went from her thighs to her waist, with just a quick squeeze at her ass first, clenching his fingers in the fabric of her shirt, pulling her even closer so that she could feel that this was affecting him too. His cock was already getting hard, pushing uncomfortably against his pants, but her soft stomach gave great friction whenever she moaned and rubbed herself against him.

Trying to deepen the kiss, she slid her tounge against his lips, making him smile against her whine when he didn’t answer her attempt. He was the one calling the shots and he wanted her to remember that. Instead of giving her what she wanted he pried his lips away from hers and targeted her neck.

The sweet sounds she made whenever his lips caressed her made his head spin. He couldn’t keep his hands still any longer and torturously slow started to inch them up the skin under her top, feeling the way she moved under them, how she was shivering against his touch and how her lungs moved with every heated breath that left her. He knew that undressing her probably wasn’t the best idea in case someone managed to interrupt them, but when he felt her breast under his palms, so soft and squeazable and utterly wonderful to nibble at, his desire to put his face between them took over his rationality. So, after he sucked down on the skin on her shoulder - and grinned at the sour moan she made - he pulled her top off and started his descent down her body. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard the thump that her head made when she threw it back against the wall but he was far more interrested in the goosebumps that spread under the line he licked down her collarbone. When he finally moved his mouth over her nipple he felt a hand grip his shoulder with a strenght that was sure to leave a mark.

The noises she made went straight to Chishiyas cock. His mind was so clouded by the need to be inside her that he was having trouble keeping his teasing facade in check. Nestling his face in her chest did ground him a bit though, it was the whines that followed it that made him throb in his pants.

”Fuck, Chishiya… lower please” she begged, shivering when he swept his tounge over her other nipple. The gentle squeeze from his other hand earned him another whimper - and a fist in his hair trying to push him further down. He complied with a quiet laugh, loving how aroused she was from just this. Not that he had anything to say about that, he was aching just as bad as she was.

He didn’t bother to take her skirt off, he just held it up with one hand while running the other up her inner thigh, slow and steady so that he could hear her quiet complaints that he took too long.

”Hold it” he commanded, looking at her and then the skirt, nodding towards it to make his point. A shaky hand took a hold of the hem of the skirt and he shifted his focus back to her soft thighs, leading up to her glistening center that he couldn’t wait to be inside. He couldn’t help himself and squeezed the inside of her thigh, thinking about how great it would feel to have them wrapped around him - then laughed at her impatient grunt before giving in and giving her what she asked for.

With one hand he hiked her leg over his shoulder and then he dove in and let his tounge spread her open, loving the wetness he was met with. A cascade of ’yes’-es fell from her mouth as she rolled her hips in time with his tounges movements. A long lick between the folds, flicking over the clit, sucking, kissing, circling… he knew exactly what she liked and he gave it to her. Every time her moans got a little louder he slowed down, dragging out the sensation (and pissing her off just a little just because he could). It was his favourite leisure activity and he could go for hours if he had the time. Unfortunately he didn’t and with a last lick he stopped, her disappointed groan chiming like music in his ears.

He rose to his feet, one hand still lingering on her thigh, the other moving a strand of hair from her face that was so lovely and flushed from desire. There was a hint of irritation from the way her eyebrows scrunched together, but it disappeared when he used the same hand that he just caressed her cheek with to draw a line along her pussy, wet and warm, and so inviting, making her squirm under his touch.

”I want to take my time with you but we’re in a bit of a hurry,” he reminded her. ”Come here.”

Chishiya started walking towards the couch, sat down and patted his lap as an invitation for her to sit.

”I’m tired and have been working all day,” Chishiya playfully told her, watching her eyes roll as she walked towards him, which made him chuckle. He enjoyed how obvious she was with everything and that she didn’t take any of his shit. She was strong and powerful and he wouldn’t have a chance against her wits if she wanted to ruin him. And he didn’t want it any other way.

”You need a new couch” she complained while straddling his lap, knees sinking down too far and throwing off her balance before she put her hands on his shoulder and shuffled her way forward to hover over his length.

”But I really like my couch” he lied, lazily putting his hands on her waist to pretend to help her.

”Sure you do. Take off your pants, or are you too tired to do that to, Doctor?”

For once he hurried, mostly because his dick was aching and he couldn’t wait for it to be inside her. So he moved his pants and boxers out of the way, enough to release his cock. She didn’t waste a second and sank down onto it right away.

Both of them moaned, her from finally being filled and him from finally being hugged by her warm, wet walls. When she started to move, riding him nice and deep, he couldn’t help himself and let his head fall back so he could watch her face as she fucked herself on him.

”Fuck, I’ve been needing this” he groaned as she took him in, Chishiya pushing as far in as he could to savour that warm and tight feeling that her insides gave him. ”You feel so good.”

”Fuck…” was the only answer he got, but it sounded perfect. Breathless and broken, turning into another moan when his cock hit her sweet spot again.

She rode him deep and fast, her wet walls stroking his cock in rhythm with her movements. Desperate to feel more of it, he bucked up into her to bury himself as deep as he could. Her hands was on his shoulders, nails digging deep into his white coat.

Chishiyas hands were everywhere, grabbing her ass hard as she bounced on his lap, sliding up her waist when he went back to rolling her hips, cupping her breasts when he took over and fucked her from below. The bliss on her face drove him on, making him thrust harder and angling his hips so that he hit that spongy spot inside her with every thrust. He could feel her getting close, her insides tightening and clamping down around his cock, stroking the life out of him with it. He wouldn’t last much longer either - he needed her to come so that he could join her. So he slid a hand down to her center, putting two fingers on her clit and started to circle it in time with his thrusts. The loud groan she let out at the sensation made the fire in his stomach grow even more and, fuck, he needed her to orgasm.

”Y/N, come for me,” he hissed and pressed down harder on her clit. ”Fuck, come on my cock.”

And so she did. With a rough moan into his neck he felt her walls clamping down on his cock, so fucking tight, before convulsing around him. Maybe he should have stopped and let her catch her breath but his hips moved at their own will now. He fucked her with desperation, each thrust bringing him closer, until he emptied himself deep inside her. She moaned as he did, rocking her hips to stimulate him more until his cock had stopped twitching.

Chishiyas hands landed on her waist again, this time drawing soft circles on her skin, making her shiver under his touch. Her breath was warm against his neck when she nuzzled her face there. He let her rest on him, he was too satisfied to move anyway. They sat like that until both their breathing had calmed down, and until he had gone soft enough to slip out of - although he didn’t want to. She felt too good. But even he wasn’t able to control his body that much. He had tried.

When she moved it was with shaky legs, tired from overworking them on that dumb couch. He smirked as he helped her up onto her feet, casting a glance on the clock hanging on the wall above his desk. There were still time to have some more fun, and even if his dick was tired, his tounge wasn’t. Standing up next to her he bent in, moved a strand of her hair away from her face, and softly spoke into her ear.

”So, is there anything else you want me to examine?”

[lukolabrainrot]

Long ask anon with an even longer ask (I truly don’t know how to make long story short, but I can do the reverse), sorry. I am dividing this in two parts in case you decide to post this, so it would not be such an essay.

Part 1. Intro

Something has been eating up at me for a while but I only recently gathered the courage to do anything more than lurking. I actually am quite new to this, mostly because I was not allowing myself to even get into this in the first place. I am a very chill person when it comes to celebrities, I truly couldn’t care less about their lives, don’t even follow them on SM (L and N included) (not that I use SM all that much to begin with), I don’t know why but it always seems strange for me to be invested in strangers’ lives. I am not big of a fan girl either, especially media wise, I am much more interested in books and have no patience for tv shows most of the time. All of this to say, this is unusual behavior for me, watching all of the interviews with repetitive questions (those poor actors having to repeat themselves over and over again), paying attention to actors (beyond just knowing their names).

Polin is one of the rare ships that captured my interest, so I was very excited to learn about s3 being them, and when the wait for even the slightest info seem to be dragging on endlessly those interviews served as a great entertainment. Until they were not, until I started noticing things I wished not to. What started as “oh, they are so cute, and charming, and their friendship is so endearing!” very quickly turned into “babes, WHAT THE F*CK DID I JUST SAW/HEARD?” At one point I was honestly thinking “did I miss something? Are they together? What is going on?” So I checked, out of curiosity nothing more, but found nothing OFFICIAL suggesting that (as in N nor L never claimed anything). So I moved on, watched the show, other interviews (my brows still rising at some points), and then post Part 2 premiere I saw the picture on IG.

Everyone on internet seemed to be screaming about Ls’ GF, and being absolutely vile to him, which I found so disgusting I immediately checked out of the situation and turned my attention back on fiction again. It would be insincere of me not to admit to a certain disappoint on such a development, but that was as far as it would go. Though I can also truthfully say that that girl was not giving me the best impression based on the picture, something just seemed off. I only saw one at that point, where it appeared as if they were holding hands, why did it seem off? Because L looked displeased, almost angry, his eyes averted from cameras, while she was boldly looking right on them smiling as if she was walking her red carpet. As I said that was that, just continued watching the show, reading Polin fanfiction, hung out on a Polin reddit account and some Polin Tumblr blogs. And then I stumbled upon your blog (it was already past papgate 2.0), and now I’m on this bloody ship, and can not seem to force myself overboard, because those two are so soulmate coded (and yes, I realize how cheesy that sounds).

What has been bugging me, is that most, if not all, in this fandom seem to be of the opinion that L is the primary reason why N/L are yet to develop into lovers phase of this friends to lovers arc. From outright blaming him to passive aggressively calling him a dummy for not going after N. And I comprehend that most of it comes from the presence of a certain adjacent. But putting aside the OBVIOUS, LOGICAL point that we, non of us, are privy to their real lives, and bts truth, I still don’t see where that point of view comes from. I know that everyone says L is most like his character, so perhaps part of it is projection of that, but for me it always seems that L is actually a Penelope of this situation. To me, he himself gives it away.

Same Anon... same!

I have never thought L was the hang up in this situation. I think N has been burned in love, is pretty closed off with this stuff, and a TOTAL workaholic. L DEFINITELY fell first (no one can convince me otherwise). L also seems to kind of be a hopeless romantic and public lover boy, which I don't think N is use to. But I feel like that is why they kind of balance each other out ❤️️

[ninii-winchester]

Behind Closed Doors (Epilogue)

Pairing : Boss!Dean Winchester X Assistant!Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings : fluff, mentions of sex, not proofread.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

The duo arrived at Dean's penthouse, it was perched high above the city, a sleek sanctuary of glass and steel, with floor-to-ceiling windows that captured the skyline's every flicker and glow. Y/n watched with an amused look on her face as Dean paced back and forth in front of her, his expression was one of excitement and bewilderment.

“Can you stop pacing?” She giggled gesturing him to come to her. He stopped to look at her but he remained still at his place. He still wasn’t able to wrap his head around the situation. She removed her heels and walked over to him, snaking her arms over his shoulders while he held her by her waist. “Are you not happy?” She bit her lip, looking at him with inquisitive look.

“Are you mad?” He retorted. “I’m ecstatic.” He grinned pulling her closer. “I’m just baffled! What happened? How’d you change your mind? What’s dad gotta do with all this?” Y/n smiled at him and dragged him over to the couch. She made him sit down comfortably before sitting beside him.

“Your dad came to see me a few days ago.” She started.

It was a normal Sunday, Y/n was at home binging a show had to catch up on when the doorbell rang. At first she thought it was Castiel and she didn’t want to be bothered so she remained seated. But a few seconds later the bell rang again. With a loud sigh she pushed herself off the couch and opened the door. There stood none other than John Winchester.

“May I come in, Y/n?” She was quite shocked to hear that he knew her by her name, but then she realised it had more to do with her relationship with Dean than her being an employee at his company. She nodded her head, moving out of the way for him to enter.

Taking a seat on the couch John looked around the space, it wasn’t huge but it wasn’t small either. Decent and spacious enough for one person.

“Can I get you anything?” She asked awkwardly standing in front of him.

“Coffee would be great.” He replied. with small smile. After she prepared two mugs of coffee she gave one to him and sat on the couch opposite to him. “I assume you know why I’m here?” He asks taking a sip from his mug.

“Yeah I guess.” She murmured and he raised a brow wanting her to continue. “Your wife sent you here to ask me to back? I swear it’s not me, Dean’s not letting me resign.” She replied looking at the mug in her hands.

“It’s not why I’m here. I want to ask you something.” His eyes narrowed as he studied her, tracing every line and movement with calculated precision. “I talked to Castiel the other day and from what I’ve gathered you’ve left my son.” He spoke calmly.

“I would never ask him to choose me over his career and he was going to do exactly the same. So I made the decision for both of us.” She replied and John held back a scoff.

“Why don’t you just say that you don’t want to be with broke guy?” John egged her.

“With due respect Mr.Winchester, You’re sitting in my home and I will not let you disrespect me like that.” She glared at the man and he smirked at her. At the change of his expression she tilted her head in confusion.

“Care to elighten me then why did you let go so easily?” John asked leaning back on the couch.

“That company is Dean’s dream.” She started, “he’s worked day and night to be where he is. I have no doubt that if you kick him out he can work at any company and CEO. But this company is important to him, because it’s yours.” She concluded and John looked confused. He asked her to elaborate and she took a deep breath. “Dean looks up to you, he wanted to be CEO of this company so he could make it bigger and better. He’s never told it to anyone but he wants spread it countrywide, he wants to expand your business, to make you proud. And I can’t let myself be the reason, that he can’t achieve his dream.” She clenched unclenched her hands in her lap.

John let out a chuckle and she looked up at his face. He rubbed the back of his head before speaking,

“I’m sorry for accusing you, dear. I knew Dean’s choice was impeccable but I had to see for myself. You’re fierce and I can see you’re willing to give up your happiness for his’. But the thing is I don’t want you to. I want son to be happy.”

“What do you mean?” She looked at him suspiciously.

“Well, I’m assuming you’re invited to the wedding?” He didn’t let her reply before he spoke again, “Even if you’re not, I want you to attend. And object to this wedding as his rightful fiancée.” John said passing the small box he brought along. She gasped as she saw what was inside. The Winchester heirloom. “You deserve it.” John smiled at her.

“How’d you know—about the engagement?” She asked clearly taken aback. He chuckled in response.

“My son trusts me more than he lets on. He told me and I’m here to keep that trust intact.” He looked at her with almost pleading look on his face. “Don’t give up on him. He won’t lose his dream, I’ll make sure of it. But he won’t lose his love is something that you need to take care of.”

“So that was it.” Y/n smiled filling Dean in. “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder but that push was all I needed.” Dean shook his head at her words. He grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers together. He placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand.

“You rescued me and that’s enough.” He grinned at her which made her laugh. “And I can’t believe dad went against mom for me. That man is the definition of whipped.” Dean thought out loud.

“But I guess that’s why he understands the situation so well. He knows what it’s like to love.” Dean nodded.

“True. I gotta thank the old man.” Dean stated. “But first, I need to make sweet love to my fiancée.” He added picking her up and carrying her into the bedroom.

Four months later Y/n and Dean decided to get married in an intimate setting with their close friends and family. Mary had refused to attend but Dean didn’t care. He was done with his mother’s antics and was fine with having his Dad, Sam, Jess and Cas by his side. And of-course the love of his life. Y/n had her family and close friends and it was perfect. The wedding took place in a cozy, candle-lit venue, adorned with soft florals and warm lights that cast a gentle glow over the small gathering of close family and friends. As the couple exchanged heartfelt vows, their closest loved ones watched, each tearful smile and quiet laugh creating an atmosphere of love and genuine warmth. The evening was filled with shared stories, laughter, and quiet moments, making it a deeply personal celebration of their journey together.

“After the wedding, the couple went off to their honeymoon to Paris, the city of love. It was an extremely enchanting experience, filled with moonlit walks, cozy dinners in hidden bistros, and breathtaking views from the Eiffel Tower. And lots of love making, Dean couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Every moment felt like a scene from a romance novel, as they wandered hand-in-hand through charming streets, explored art-filled museums, and shared quiet laughter in quaint cafes, making memories that would last a lifetime. Frankly Y/n didn’t want to come back home but they had to obviously.

Y/n was working at her desk, as Dean had suspended her notice period and completely disregarded her resignation. He didn’t want to spend a second away from her so he wanted her to continue being his assistant. He called her inside his office numerous time solely for the purpose of asking kisses. He called her in again and Y/n huffed walking inside. He beckoned her with his index finger, puckering his lips.

“You can’t be serious. I’m working.” She half glared at him, he smirked knowing she was trying to be intimidating but she enjoyed it as much as he did. A knock on the door resounded and Dean yelled a ‘come in’. It was Kevin, an intern.

“I got these files you asked me to Miss L/n, I was gonna leave them at your desk but I thought I’d check boss’ office.” He said sheepishly. Before Y/n could reply Dean spoke.

“It’s Mrs.Winchester.” He smirked proudly. Kevin quickly apologised and she dismissed him by telling him to leave them at her desk. He nodded and left. “Now Mrs.Winchester, a kiss please?” Dean pouted leaning back in his chair. She walked over to him shaking her head. She leaned to peck him but he pulled her onto his lap deepening the kiss.

“You’re lucky I love you, Mr.Winchester.” She muttered against his lips.

“Damn right I am.” He kissed her again. “Just so you know I love you more, Mrs.Winchester.”

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

@thelittlelightinthedarkess @enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8

@10ava01 @n-o-p-e-never @itsdesiree86

@kr804573

[sweetadonisbutbetter]

Hello! Can I request Wukong crushing on a new member of the Monkie Gang?

Like maybe almost love at first sight but he's trying to hide it and being a lovable dork lol (Gn is fine)

AGDKDH THIS JS SO CUTEE ☹️☹️ also hope u don’t mind this being in a headcanon format!!

Something about you | Sun Wukong x GN!Reader

Relationship: romantic Warnings: None!

You were introduced to the group by MK and Mei, someone whom they met while out and befriended

You were new to the city and excited to meet new friends, so went along with them to hang out with all their friends

At the place, you got introduced to everyone, the last person being Wukong

You greeted him nicely, slyly telling him he was handsome shortly before MK and Mei dragged you away to eat Pigsy’s food

Wukong on the other hand was taken aback

You were so attractive!?!? And you called him attractive? He thought he was going to have an aneurysm.

During the whole get-together, Wukong watched you from afar (Which wasn’t creepy at all)

He couldn’t quite place it, but you set his whole body into tingles, and he felt his fur stand up. Every time you laughed, it would ring in his ears and bounce around in his head for a while. Great Jade, if you laughed at any of his jokes? He might as well be in the Heavens with all the other gods.

Before Wukong could gather the courage to ask for your number, you had to leave, stating that your furniture was at your place. Mk was the one to take you home that day and Wukong swore that the next time there was a function, he would be the one to take you home. 

A couple of days later, Wukong was waiting around for his order from Pigsy’s when he got a knock at the door.

“Ugh, finally. MK, Kid, can you be a little faster next time,” Wukong said as he opened the Temple doors. “I’m starving he-”

“Uhh. Hi?” You say, standing there awkwardly. Wukong stares at you for a moment, it took him a while to process the fact that you were not MK.

“You’re not MK.”

“That I am not.” You laugh, shifting the food in your hand.

“Where is MK? Why are you here?” 

“Doing other orders. I am here because I took the job up, need the cash.” You say with a shrug. You pull out your phone and show him the app Mei had made to help with deliveries. “Anyways, order for Wukong?”

“Uh…Yeah. Thanks, kid,” Wukong says, still looking at the app as he takes the food from your hands. You gave him a small smile as you pressed complete on the order and turned to leave before stopping. You turn back and hand him your phone. He looks down at it then at you, confused. You roll your eyes and open your contacts. 

“Input your number. MK talks about you all the time and says we would get along. I would like to see if that is true.” You explain. 

Safe to say, he wasn’t the one to ask for your number. 

How could you not blame him? You were sweeping him off his feet time and time again, and you weren’t even aware of it!

It was after you left after giving him his order did he realized that he liked you.

With a smile on his face, he gave you five stars and went into his temple to enjoy his food, a pep in his step knowing that it was in your hands. 

Shortly after getting your number, you asked him to hang out. 

He never jumped onto his cloud and sped to the city at the speed he did.

That one hang-out had turned into once a week, to every other day, to every day. At some point, you kinda lived with him, going to his place so often. You would occasionally go with MK when he trained, even getting from some lessons. Other times you went to his place, and he took you there. You were quite familiar with the other monkeys, even bringing some snacks for them (something that Wukong had to tell you to stop since they were beginning to ask for you very often). When Wukong would go to your place, it was mainly to make a quick stop before heading out. 

If you thought Wukong was smooth with his flirting you would be wrong, especially if he fell first.

You are so stunning that any pickup lines that he would use just fall flat. 

He is also very clingy, thinking that if his words fail him, he always has physical affection to woo you. 

Once MK and Mei find out about his feelings for you, they begin to push you two together, planning hangouts before suddenly canceling, leaving just you and Wukong.

Safe to say they aren’t slick with it either (they are both bumbling over Red Son, there is no way that they are going to help Wukong win you over)

After months of schemes failing, MK and Mei had one last trick up their sleeve.

The last scheme that they planned was at one of the yearly festivals. This wasn’t something that they couldn’t just ditch, so they just left you and Wukong alone.

The entire time, Wukong is fumbling his words and making a fool of himself, making you giggle

This would make him feel a little better, knowing that through his poor way of expressing himself, you were finding him amusing.

At the height of the night, shortly before the main event started, you pulled him aside to a quiet place of the festival.

Wukong followed behind you as you dragged him away from the large crowd. It was much quieter wherever you were taking him, the music of the performances now faint. This part of the festival had sparse people, though not empty as there were some couples walking hand in hand or families heading out to leave with their sleeping young in their arms. 

You stopped in the middle of a bridge, which was over a lake that surrounded the venue where the festival was taking place. The moon was shining over the water, reflecting on it and lighting you both up. As Wukong looked at you, he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you look under both the sun and moon. 

“Was there a reason you pulled me out here?” 

“Yes. Now we have to wait.”

“Wait? Wait for wha-” Wukong was cut off by the sound of a boom. He turned his head and caught the briefest glimpse of the sparks of fireworks before he felt hands grab at his face. It happened so quickly that Wukong didn’t even register that you had pulled him into a kiss. Once he did, he returned the kiss, equally as excited as he was nervous. Tilting his head, he deepened the kiss as he wrapped his arms around your waist and yours wrapped around his neck. After a moment he pulled away and looked at you, his heart beating so fast in his chest that he could hear it. “You know how long I have been wanting to do that?”

“I do. You weren’t slick, old man.” You laugh before pulling him into another kiss, the fireworks going off behind the both of you.

Safe to say, MK was right.

[iliketangerines]

Thank you so much for Dark Raiden with innocent reader!Maybe part 2 for that?like when he had enough of this feelings and go straight to reader and propose it to her and hold her I'm his arms (they're too good and I can't get them enough)

docile as a lamb pt. 2

a/n: mmmm, i want him to fuck me so badly. also, i do NOT condone the behavior at the end in real life

pairing: lord raiden x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), overstimulation, pussy eating, fingering, squirting, somnophilia, slight breeding kink, dubcon near the end, dacryphilia, mating press, nipple play

Raiden stares at you from across the room, eyes taking on an unnatural glint as he stares you down, almost like a predator sizing up its prey

he’s deathly still as you explain the problem to the soldiers, but they huff and point a finger into your chest as they complain that they need the technology now

Raiden feels his fingers twitch as you shrink away from the soldier, who uses their size and muscle to tower over you

you say that you can’t do anything about that, that they damaged the hardware and that the the technology in general needed to be replaced and that isn’t your department

the soldier hisses you and gets much too close to you, and you tremble in place, unsure of what to do against your superior

Raiden walks over to the soldier and places a hand over the soldier’s shoulder and squeezes tightly, making sure that his eyes crackle with lightning as the soldier looks up at him in fear

the god asks if he has a problem, and he digs his fingers into the flesh of the soldier’s shoulder, making them wince in pain

they stutter out a ‘no’ and scamper away the second Raiden lets go of their shoulder, and you let out a sigh of relief and thank Raiden

you ask him if you can repay him, that he’s been doing a lot for you, keeping the unruly soldiers off you who thought they could boss you around because they’re your superior

and that he’s been keeping you company, and you look up at him through those eyelashes, sending Raiden’s blood flowing downward

he clears his throat to try and distract from the thought, and he tells you that he’d like to meet you later tonight, that he has something to show you

you light up and pat his shoulder, asking him when and where to meet you, and he gives you a time and location in the hangar

he watches you walk away, and he can see the way the skirt you’re wearing ride up your thighs and how your shirt shapes around your body just right

Raiden turns around and wanders around the base aimlessly, waiting for the time to pass until he can finally take you out on that date, and he paces impatiently

he wants to claim you now, have you stowed away from the world, mark you up and keep you as his own personal lover

but he has to draw you in first, and so Raiden waits, irritated that he was to waist to long to lure you in

none of the soldiers dare to ask what’s got Raiden so short-fused, and the day passes by slowly as he waits in the hangar for you to arrive

finally, as the sun starts to dip low on the horizon, you arrive, wearing a pretty little dress that emphasizes your curves, and Raiden wants to flip up the dress and fuck you right now

but he restrains himself and takes your hand and leads you out of the hangar as you chat with him about the rest of your thankfully uneventful day

he takes you outside of the compound and helps you walk on the rocky terrain to the cliffs, stopping a few feet from the edge just in case you fall down

he chats with you as he waits for the sun to set just a little bit longer, and you seem excited, perhaps a little confused, but you don’t seem to mind

but finally, the sun dips down, and the moon comes out

Raiden concentrates and summons the clouds to surround the moon but still shine through the window of clouds, and they grow dark and gray

you hear thunder come, but no rain falls

the god lets out a breath and feels the red lightning run through his fingers, through the current in the air, how it gathers in the clouds

he draws his hands up and flicks his fingers, sending the red lightning into arcs that combine together to form a beautiful display of his power

he puts his full concentration into the display, but he can still hear your gasps of delight and amusement as he controls the lightning to bend to him

he gives one final burst of lightning to flash through the sky before letting his arms fall to his side, and he take a glance at you

you look amazed at the display, and the clouds disappear, letting the moon shine through and shining on your features just perfectly

you tell him that it was amazing, that it was beautiful, and Raiden decides to make his move

he tells you that you’re more beautiful and tilts your chin up to look up at his tall frame properly, and even in the night, he can see your flush at the comment

but you don’t move away, rather your chin rests its weight into his hand, and you’re left speechless as he leans down in close to you

he comes down close enough so that you’re underneath his hat as well, and he can see you strain to get as high as you can on your toes to meet him

you presses his forehead to yours and asks if you will be his, so that he can kiss you, touch you, ravish you as he pleases

you nod, and Raiden smiles as he closes the distance between you two, bringing his arms to circle around your waist and lift you into his arms

you squeak as your feet lift off the ground, but you still melt into the kiss and grip onto Raiden’s shoulders as he presses his tongue into your mouth

he feels all-powerful, like he could take on the elder gods and win right now as he kisses you, and it’s better than he could have imagined: you’re so much sweeter than he thought

he can’t get enough of you, and he could taste you forever

but you pull away from him, his lips still chasing yours, and you take deep breaths as you stare into his eyes and bring your hand up to cup his face

you hesitate for a second, but then you tell him to ravage you like he wanted

Raiden head spins as he hears you, and he immediately transports you both in a flash of lightning to his bedroom

he presses you into his plush bed, lips smashing against yours and moving fervently as he hands claw at your dress, but he grows impatient and rips your dress and bra off

you gasp and whine into his mouth about something, but Raiden doesn’t hear as he sees your chest fully exposed to him, plush and full and so soft

he trails his kisses down your neck and chest until he latches onto your nipples, and he nips and sucks on the sensitive bed, using his hand so squeeze and knead the flesh of your other tit

you moan at the feeling, and your hands fly down to remove his cowl and grip onto his white hair, and he groans at the feeling of you tugging at his strands

he licks at your nipples, circling around the bud with his tongue, before pressing a firm lick into it and then nipping it

Raiden loses himself in the taste of you, and you whine as he leaves your chest in hickeys and bite marks

finally, he pulls away and admires how your nipple is puffy and sore before moving on to lavish the other one is the same attention

your hips buck up into his, and he grinds down into you, moaning at the feeling of his cock rubbing against the fabric of his clothing

the image of your pussy flashes through his mind, and Raiden immediately detaches from your chest, giving it one more appreciative squeeze, before shuffling downward

he presses his tongue into your clit through your underwear, needing a taste of you right now and too impatient to remove your panties right away

it makes you whine, and the rub of the fabric against your sensitive clit with Raiden’s tongue pressing firmly into your clit has you whimpering into the air and arching your back

Raiden moans and grips onto your thighs, bringing you in closer to him as he laps at your pussy through the fabric

but finally, he grows tired of the barrier, and he reaches his hand to rip off your lacey panties and dig his nose into your puffy clit as he tastes you

Raiden is in heaven, you taste better than anything the Earthrealm could offer, you’re so sweet, so delicious, so pliant underneath his hands, and he fucks you on his thick tongue

you tug at his hair, head thrown back, as you grind your hips into his face, and you whisper his name like a prayer as he pleasures you

you’re so tight around his tongue, and he can imagine how tight you’ll be around his cock, how he’s going to stretch you out

Raiden grinds his cock into the mattress as he continues to fuck you on his thick tongue, and his fingers dig into your thighs and send small shocks of electricity through you as he loses his composure

it makes you whine and squirm in his grip as your hips buck into his face and your pussy clench around his tongue as you near the edge

you can barely warn him, voice breathy and high-pitched, and Raiden hums into your pussy, needing to taste your release, to taste how he pleases you

you keen and tug at his hair as you cum, and Raiden laps at the taste desperately, as if he’d never taste it again

your taste was only for him, your whines were only for his ears, your body was only for his touch, he pants into your pussy as he glances up at you

and you’re so beautiful as your chest heaves up and down as you come down from your high, and Raiden can’t help but place his tongue firmly into your clit to watch you twitch in his arms

he wraps his lips around your clit, keeping watch of your reactions carefully, as you whine and moan squirm in his grip as he flicks your clit with his tongue

you cry out in overstimulation as he brings you to another orgasm, and he hums at your taste flooding his mouth again

he needs more, needs to taste you again, and he brings his thick fingers from your thighs and slides them in between your pussy lips before sliding them into your drooling cunt

he fucks you on his fingers ruthlessly, curling them to press into that sweet spot that has your head tilting back and your whines grow needy

Raiden’s doesn’t let up, fucking you on his fingers, covering them in your cum, watching you turn into a blabbering limp mess as you sob that it’s too much

but he doesn’t care because now you belong to him, and he will take what he wants, he is a god, and he will not let anyone stop him, not even you

he has you breathless and squirming, and then sobbing and crying as your push at him, but he’s so much stronger and you finally go limp on the bed and take his fingers and tongue without even a noise of complaint

you twitch on the bed every time you come, and Raiden still can’t have enough of your taste

but his cock aches in his pants, and he decides he wants to feel you around his cock more than he wants to taste you

he slides his fingers out from your pussy and detaches his lips from your pussy, and he licks his fingers clean of your release, moaning at the taste

he stands up, towering over you, but you don’t even react mind mush and eyes lidded over as he undresses himself

he puts your legs over his shoulders and slides his cock in between your folds, biting his lip at the feeling before finally notching his tip

he shuffles upward, sliding his dick into you, and you finally react, letting out a soft cry at the stretch as tears brim in your eyes again

Raiden pushes you into a mating press, and he groans at the feeling of your soft thighs pressing into his chest, fucking into you roughly before you’ve had time to adjust

he kisses you deeply, swallowing your cries of pain and pleasure, and thrusts his hips and out of you at a brutal pace as he loses himself to the feeling of you clenching around him

he can’t control himself, and he can feel himself buzzing with electricity, making you whine into his mouth and twitch underneath his hold

with every thrust, his pelvis slaps into your clit, sending jolts of pleasure up your spine, and you can’t control yourself as you cry and squirt on him

it only amplifies the electricity, and it has your pussy spasming around Raiden’s dick, causing him to get faster, to fuck into you until everyone knows you’re his

he chases his own high, pace growing sloppy as he continues to kiss you, and he groans loudly into your mouth as he buries himself deep and cums inside of you

he finally stops thrusting and just let himself spill his seed deep inside of you, marking you as his forever

yes, you’d be his consort, his lover, his toy for him to use and love and ravish

not that you knew that right now, not when you’ve passed out on the bed

Raiden pants heavily as he stares at your sleeping figure, but his cock still twitches inside of you and aches to breed you

well, you belong to him now anyway

[lebbys-world]

Hello, this is my first time requesting any sort of writing, but I've had this idea for a couple days now.

So the idea is, a todoroki x reader. Where reader (preferably fem) is obsessed with mugs, and it's pretty unexpected with people, because she has a resting-B*-face, and is very guarded due to seeing how twisted and weird people can be.

Anyway, in my mind maybe it's todoroki, deku, and bakugo's turn to go on the weekly shopping run, and they're down the dish isle (for some reason), and todoroki sees this mug he thinks reader would like because it has her favorite character on it. So they finish the trip, and he brings the mug to reader, she's so happy and excited about this mug that she's just sitting there unable to express how happy she is so she's tears up a bit, but looks at him and out of nowhere basically tackles, this man into a hug.

That was my idea you don't have to use it, but I just thought this was so cute and had to see it written. Thank you, have a nice day/evening/night ☺️

A Mug for a Hug

Todoroki x fem!reader, established relationship, collections/hyperfixations, fluff !!

notes: thanks so much for the request !! i hope i was able to put your idea into words, even just a bit !! i also used third person for this one, just for the sake of switching perspectives between the reader, Todoroki, and narration !!

Come the end of the week, each of the class 1-A students were given their usual chores for around heights alliance - the method coordinated and conducted by none other than the class president himself.

Insisting that everyone pull their weight, Ida charted who would make dinner, clean the common room, take out the trash, gather groceries, and the like.

This week, Y/N's eyes scanned the posting, her duty was to help make meals every other day, alongside Mina.

Smiling to herself, she fortunately seemed to get one of the best outcomes of this random chore raffle.

As her eyes carried on looking over the paper, they landed on a pair of three names listed below “buying snacks and groceries”:

Midoriya, Bakugo, & Todoroki 

Oh goodness.

Those three definitely won't make it back with the food intact. 

Seemingly noticing the situation he was in himself, Todoroki looked blankly at the board, then looked over to Y/N. 

“Hey, Sho, please try to keep all the food intact, okay?” Y/N chuckled, egging her boyfriend on a bit. “If you don’t, Mina and I won’t be able to make dinner for everyone.”

He smiled softly, “I’ll do my best, but you might have to bring it up with Bakugo. I’m sure he’s the one who really needs that warning.”

“Yeah, I’ll warn him as well.” She rolled her eyes, brows furrowing already at the thought of the conversation.

“Well, good luck. I’ll see you when I get back, alright?”

“Yeah.” She smiled, waving him off as he went down the hall.

Later that day, post-warning scolding, the three boys had managed to, rather uneventfully, gather all the groceries they needed.

As Bakugo yelled at Midoriya for the shopping list, Todoroki made his way down the adjacent aisle, biding his time as the other two double checked the cart.

The shelves of the neighboring aisle were lined with glass, a variety of unique ceramics sitting on top.

There were hand-made bowls, hand-painted plates, printed jars, and, yet, one thing in particular caught his eye.

Near the end-cap of the aisle was a small row of mugs, each with a custom print of a character across it.

He picked up one, smiling to himself, as he thought about the collection Y/N had in her room.

Keeping her interests to herself, Todoroki reminisced of the time she happily went around showing off her trinkets and collection to him.

It made him feel truly a part of her life - being trusted to see such an open and earnest side of her.

He picked up the mug with her f/c on it, running his hand over it gently, before going back to the others to finish checking out.

By the time the trio made it back to the dorms, evening had crept its way in.

In the kitchen stood Y/N and Mina, carefully preparing a broth for dinner while waiting for the remaining ingredients to make their way back.

The two laughing to themselves, Mina happily remarked when she saw the other three walking towards the kitchen, bags of groceries in tow.

“Well it took you boys long enough!” 

“Seriously,” Y/N chimed in, a smile on her face, “did you get lost in that store or what?”

“JUST TAKE THE DAMN GROCERIES-” 

A loud thunk was heard as some of the bags hit the table, Bakugo storming off.

Midoriya’s face paled as he went to make sure all the jars were still intact, rapidly apologizing for the actions that weren't his own. 

“Again, I’m really sorry about Kacchan! I hope you guys can make something good with what we bought, though! Please let me know if you need any help!”

The freckled boy bowed again, and ran off after Bakugo, likely insisting the hot-head apologize as well.

Left behind to help unload the dishelved bags, Todoroki put things away in the pantry one by one, chiming into the girls’ conversation.

As he reached the end of the bags, he carefully unwrapped the ceramic mug he had tucked safely away, and softly reached out for Y/N.

“Hey, I thought I’d get you something while we were out.” He smiled, showing it to her as she turned to meet his face. 

“I thought a mug with your f/c would be a good addition to your collection… though, if you already have it, I can return it and find you a different one..” he trailed off.

Awestruck, Y/N stood for a moment, not knowing what to do.

Her eyes watered, as her heart warmed.

She hadn’t known that Shoto would care so much about her interests like that.

No one ever did before - in fact, it was usually the exact opposite.

People would normally shy away whenever she became more open, so she often put up a mask, keeping what made her happy safe and away from anyone who dared taint it.

But, when she started dating Shoto, she settled on being herself.

She wanted to be herself, with him.

So she tried, and gave him a glimpse into her world.

He seemed happy when seeing her collection, and listening to her rant, even asking a few questions along the way.

Yet. after that, he hadn't brought it up again.

So, Y/N let it be.

But here he stood, smiling at her, a brand new f/c mug in his hands for her collection. 

He cared.

He really cared.

A tear fell down her cheek as she ran into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his body.

Todoroki stumbled a bit at the sudden hug, adjusting himself so as to not damage the mug at all. 

“Sho..” Y/N looked up at him, smiling wide, “thank you.”

“Of course,” his eyes shone back, as he quickly tightened the embrace.

The two haphazardly let go of each other, as Todoroki passed the new mug along to Y/N.

Within seconds her energy had shot through the roof, and she couldn’t stop talking about this f/c mug.

“I mean, HOW DID YOU FIND THIS??” She asked, carefully looking at the print. “This one was a limited run, and somehow you stumbled into it at the GROCERY store??”

“Well it was just sitting on the shelf..”

“Really??”

She ran over to Mina, proudly showing off the newest prized piece of her collection. 

“Mina, just look at what Shoto got me! Isn’t it the best?”

Mina laughed at her enthusiasm, “it really is! Why don't we wash it off and you can use it as your glass for dinner tonight?”

Y/N stood with her mouth wide open, her invisible tail wagging at the idea. 

“HOW DID I NOT THINK OF THAT??”

As the kitchen continued to fill with the warm aroma of food and the sweet sound of three friends laughing together, Y/N hugged her boyfriend once more, new mug in hand, and new, real, memories being made together.

all fictional works are for entertainment purposes only. all rights to characters, media, references, and other third party materials belong to their respective owners. do not repurpose, modify, copy, or repost my work to other sites without permission. © @lebbys-world 2024.

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[uglypastels]

Hello love!! Your #1 fan back again with another request 😋

Was wondering if you could do a Logan x Gothic reader where the reader is apart of the team but not liked all that much due to their closed off manner. Not being receptive to any sort of communication or touch with anyone. But that’s due to her not wanting to have a meltdown and hurting others. Her and Logan are in a secret relationship cause obviously they’re the same in terms of personality and past traumas. I’d love it if reader could have slight reality warping powers, so she wears gloves to keep from accidentally touching someone and hurting them.

There’s this party going on inside the mansion. Some sort of holiday or something (whatever you’d like!) but reader isn’t a huge fan of social gatherings so she goes outside, finding Logan on his bike. She talks to him about feeling bad for not trying harder to be more open but he reassures her that she didn’t need to change for anyone to like her. Especially not him. The night could end with them heading back to her room and doing who knows what lool

(You don’t have to write anything you’re not comfortable with!! Thanks again for reading tho! Take care 💚😙)

ahhh i love this. hope you like what i made of it <3

warnings: social anxiety, overstimulation (lights and sounds, get your head out of the gutter).

~ X-Men requests are Open ~ Masterlist ~

The mansion was buzzing with excitement. The school had suddenly turned into a sort of nightclub with music blasting from the speakers. The lights were swinging and crisscrossing in colourful beams. Mutants, intoxicated with excitement as well as alcohol, danced all around you, singing along to any song to come up. Before had even started, it had become too much for you. The loud noises, the smells, the lights. But you had also promised Rogue to show up and at least try to have a good time. 

Well, you weren’t. No matter how hard you tried, these things just weren’t for you. Like you promised, you had stayed out on the floor for a bit. Tried to let the music move you and dance a bit, but it was so crowded. With each bump on the arm or back, you just kept getting flashes of the people’s minds. And who knows what they saw when they touched you?

It was all a waste of time. You were just being a burden on those who simply wanted to let loose and have fun. 

So, as the rest partied, you slipped out. No one would miss you. The one person who maybe would wasn’t even there. Or so you thought.

‘Logan?’ you asked as you saw his silhouette shift through the corridors. He didn’t look up at the sound of his name, but it was clear he didn’t hear you above the volume of the party. 

‘Logan.’ you called again, picking up your page as you went after him. Through the corridors, the main hall, out the large oaken doors. He was just sitting down on his motorcycle as you reached him. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Out to get some milk.’ He grumbled, adjusting his grip on the handles.

‘You’re kidding me.’ you scoffed, rolling your eyes at his excuse. ‘You might be an old man, but not that kind.’

‘Watch it, bub.’ He warned you with a stern glare. ‘I just… had to get away from—

‘All of that?’ you finished the sentence, ‘Yeah, I get it.’ Neither of you was the social type, and perhaps that’s what brought you together in the first place. The quiet on the outskirts of chaos drew you closer.

He must have seen the sadness on your face, as not much later, he said, ‘care to escape with me, sugar?’

And as much as you immediately want to hop on that damned motorcycle of his and run away into the sunset with him, instead, you took a step back, wrapping your bare arms over yourself. ‘I— I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lo.’ You nearly whispered. ‘What if I accidentally give you some kind of vision and you drive us off a cliff.’

‘Give me some credit, sweets.’ He chuckled. ‘I can drive a bike.’

‘Even when,’ you gently touched his forearm, ‘the road looks like this.’ For a moment, the driveway of the mansion turned into a sunny beach in front of your eyes. Logan squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. You knew it wouldn’t do any good, but you let go of him and shut the hallucination off. 

Most of the time, you could control your powers, but it was still something you had to learn. The quirks and kinks were hard to get out. For example, make sure you don’t accidentally give people hallucinations when you come into contact with them.

‘We should get out there sometime,’ Logan said. You looked up at him in confusion as to what he meant, and so he clarified. ‘To the beach. For a getaway. Just you and me. What’ya say, hun.’

‘You’d want to go to the beach? With me?’ never had you expected Logan to suggest something like that. You tried to imagine him in a pair of swimming shorts, sun-kissed skin and water dripping— you blinked quickly, erasing the images from your mind before they’d take over. Still, even if it was a joke, the idea of Logan taking you away for a holiday filled your body with fluttering butterflies. 

Logan huffed out a smile as he got off his motorbike. ‘I’d take you anywhere you’d like.’ His hand found its way around your waist, and he pulled you closer. ‘Just say the word, sugar, and hop on.’

Your mind immediately went into a mode of protest, apprehension and fear taking over, but he silenced all of that with a kiss. When he held and touched you, all the voices and lights went quiet. It was just you and him.

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

[urcatslitterbox]

I can’t stop thinking about Sebastian crushing over his friend who is also an actress.

Cw: masturbation

Sebastian had just finished shooting the last scenes for an upcoming show before heading home. Since shooting just wrapped, he had some down time before interviews start.

He plopped down on his couch after showering and trading his clothes from the day for a pair of grey sweats and a loose t-shirt. He wanted to start his little break off right and what better way to do it than catch up on his ‘to watch’ list.

Sebastian’s friend, Y/n’s new movie had come out a week ago, and though he couldn’t wait to see it, he had just been too busy with his own work.

So getting comfortable he grabbed the converter and began to type in the name of the movie. Up popped the films title cover featuring a very attractive Y/n and another actor he didn’t recognize. The film seemed to be a romance of sorts, which excited Sebastian.

You see, Sebastian has had a crush on his dear friend pretty much since they met. But it’s not his fault! Anyone, and trust people do, would have a crush on her. In the public eye Y/n is beautiful and talented, and while of course she certainly is both of those things, Sebastian is lucky enough to know the true Y/n. He knows how kind and caring she is. How bright her real smile is and the way she throws her head back when she laughs really hard.

He knows how drop dead gorgeous she is in person. He’s seen how flawless each spot on her face is, how deep her eyes are, how soft her lips look-

Stop. Control yourself, she’s your friend.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sebastian got about half way through the movie, and so far it’s pretty good, he’s enjoying it.

That is until y/n and her love interest kiss.

He feels a slight anger bubbling deep within him. He knows he has no right to feel angry. They aren’t together and the kiss isn’t even real. It doesn’t mean anything.

The scene is starting to get intense. The kiss becoming deeper and the two moving to the couch. Both Y/n and her co-star are panting and grasping each other.

Sebastian knows where this is going. He can feel himself getting slightly hard because of what’s happening on the screen. Normally he can handle sex scenes and they don’t affect him because he knows the ins and outs of what goes on behind the camera. However he’s having a hard time controlling himself this time because this one is with Y/n.

God he shouldn’t be feeling this way about her. She’s his friend for fuck sakes!

He actually prides himself on how well he’s holding back considering how enamoured with her he is. That is until she lets out a small whimper.

Oh fuck.

He knows it’s fake. He knows it’s just for the camera. He knows none of it is real.

But he’d be damned if he said she didn’t sound heavenly. Though he’s sure he could pull much prettier sounds from her.

Without realizing, his hand starts to move lower, palming himself through his sweats.

He really shouldn’t be doing this.

She lets out another whimper, louder this time.

He starts to rub himself harder within his pants. I mean this doesn’t hurt anyone. It’s not like she’s gonna know so what’s the harm really?

Y/n full out moans now.

Fuck it.

Sebastian pulls his cock out, red and already leaking precum. He starts spreading it with his thumb over his angry head. The moment he wrapped his hand around his length his head fell back as he let out a hiss.

God when was the last time he was this hard?

Gathering himself, Sebastian looks back up at the screen. Obviously it’s a movie, not a porno, so they can’t show everything. But what he can see, oh man. Y/n’s eyes are rolled back as she pants and moans.

His eyes travel lower, stroking himself slowly.

This is wrong. It’s so wrong but god does it feel right.

Her breast are in frame and fuck are they perfect. Nipples perky and looking so delicious. What he wouldn’t do just to suck on them. He groans at the thought, picking up his pace slightly. Again his eyes move lower, following the curves of her body down to her belly button, where it cuts off to keep it suitable for T.V.

The actor accompanying her leans in and kisses her harshly. She lets out a whine as her co-star moves to suck and kiss at her neck and jaw. Y/n’s nails rake down his back as he does so.

Sebastian outright moans at this. He wishes that were him so bad. He longs to mark her, to make her feel pleasure only he can provide.

He feels his balls tightening as he bucks up into his fist.

Fuck he’s not gonna last. Not with Y/n making her pretty sounds. Not with her looking so fucking delicious. So perfect.

His breaths quicken as he nears the edge.

“please..”, he begs into the open air.

God he’s so close, so goddamn close he just needs a little more. Then it happens. Y/n cries out as she ‘cums’.

There it is.

Sebastian cums with a loud groan of Y/n’s name. Chanting it as he comes down from his high, legs twitching with the force of his orgasm. His hand sticky with his own spend.

His head falls back once again as he attempts to catch his breath.

He closes his eyes and images of Y/n flash through his mind. He doesn’t know how much longer he can keep his feelings hidden. Especially after that.

[vodika-vibes]

Heyyyy!!!!

Can I have a Cody finds out/being told that f!reader is pregnant? To make things more complicated lol f!reader is a jedi

Idk where this came from tho… if you don’t have the time or inspiration it’s fine, I love u 🤍

And A Baby Makes Three...

Summary: You find out you're pregnant, and now you have to tell Cody.

Pairing: Commander Cody x F!Reader

Word Count: 996

Warnings: Talk of pregnancy

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: hihi! Thanks for the request! I hope you like it!

You frown at yourself in the mirror and pull your robe tight across your stomach. It’s not obvious yet, at least, and you suppose, with a little clever misdirection with the force, people might not notice the baby bump at all.

At least, you hope so.

You’ve been the Jedi General of the 212 for over a year and a half now. And while no one had been happy when the order was given, in hindsight you have to admit that it made sense.

After all, Obi-Wan was a negotiator. He was at his most effective using his words to convince both parties to come to an agreement. You, however, had spent the majority of your jedi career careening from one civil war to the next.

You know military strategy like you know the back of your hand.

And, with the sudden death of Palpatine, and the startling knowledge that he had been pulling the strings on both sides of the war…well, having the skilled Negotiator sitting in meetings day in and day out was far more important than having him on a warship.

Of course, he doesn’t seem to be doing the greatest job at bringing about an end to the war, since it’s still going on.

You release the front of your robes with a sigh.

Honestly, what is the point of even having that implant if it’s not going to work like it’s supposed to. You fold your arms over your chest, and tilt your head back as you try to gather your thoughts.

You need to tell Cody, obviously. Mostly because the baby is his, and partly because the fact that you’re going to be pregnant is going to have to change the way the battalion approaches any upcoming battles.

You release a sigh and rub the back of your neck, trying to ease the tension before it turns into a headache. It’s not going to work, the only person who seems to have the ability to massage away your tension headaches is Cody, and he’s busy.

You hear the familiar sound of your door code being keyed in, and you turn towards the door, or maybe not. The door slides open, silently, and Cody steps into the room, and allows the door to slide shut behind him.

Everyone on the ship knows about your relationship with him, but it’s better to not show it off.

Tension drains out of his body as he sets his helmet on the table next to the door, and you smile sympathetically, “Rough day?”

“That’s putting it mildly,” He glances at you, and then takes a moment to remove the top part of his armor, before he crosses the room to slide his arms around you and bury his face in your neck, “We got word from Fox, there’s been no truce agreement yet.” He mumbles.

“So another month of war,” You say with a sigh.

“So another month of war.” Cody agrees, pulling back to press his forehead against yours, “They’re thinking of sending us back to Umbara.”

“Until we get actual orders, let’s just hope that that’s a rumor,” You reply softly as you reach up to soothingly card your fingers through his hair.

“Yeah,” His eyes close as he relaxes into your touch, “How are you feeling? You woke up pretty sick this morning.”

You smile wryly, though it goes unnoticed for the moment.

“Told you that you shouldn’t have eaten Boil’s experiment. You’re lucky a small bout of nausea is all you got,” Cody continues.

“It wasn’t that bad.” You defend.

“Cyare, it was moving.”

“That…is true.” You admit, grimacing as you remember Boil’s meal, “But he was so excited to cook-”

“You don’t have to keep humoring my brothers, cyare. We already like you.” Cody mumbles.

“I genuinely like your brothers, Cody. I like seeing them happy.” You say lightly, “But, as it happens, I wasn’t sick because of last night's dinner.”

His eyes snap open and he scans your face, “You weren’t?”

“No. I wasn’t.” You trail your hand across his cheek, “And I’m afraid I’m going to be sick for a bit.”

His brow furrows, “Do we need to go to the Medbay?”

You huff out a breath, “That probably won’t hurt, but I need to talk to you first.”

“Okay?”

There are a million different ways you can say this, but you think that, in this situation, the hard facts are the easiest, “My implant failed. I’m pregnant.”

Cody blinks at you, his jaw slightly slack.

“You-...really?”

“Really.” You confirm, “The force doesn’t lie.”

He blinks at you again, and his gaze drifts to your stomach, “A baby,” Cody sounds stunned and a bright grin crosses his face, “That’s…that’s wonderful! I’m going to be a dad!” And then the smile fades, “Oh…shit. This is going to change how we handle missions, isn’t it?”

“Oh, undoubtedly. I’m going to get fat. Which means no more vents.”

“It means you’ll have to start staying back at the command tent.”

You purse your lips, “I do not like that.”

“You don’t have to like it. But you do have to accept it.” Cody replies, and then he kisses you, a series of quick, loving kisses, and when he pulls away he sets his hands on your shoulders, “Okay! We’re going to Helix.”

“Can’t we go later?” You whine, even as you allow him to direct you towards the door.

“Nope.” Cody keys open the door and propels you into the hall, “Because, cyare, Helix is going to have to learn a whole new branch of medicine to help keep you healthy. Two, even, because he’s not a pediatrician either.”

“...now I feel kind of guilty.”

“He’ll get over it. Maybe.” Cody says easily, “Or, if he’s angry, it’ll be at me and not you.”

You eye him suspiciously, and Cody’s smile is a bit too innocent for you to believe it, “You’re fragile, cyare.”

Your jaw drops, “I am not!”

[callsign-rogueone]

reunification day - d.a.

Dain Aetos x reader part two of Dain and Love's story words: 2.6k 🏷: no book spoilers really, set pre-Fourth Wing, feminine reader but no pronouns used, this one is pretty tame and fluffy if you don't think too hard about the implications of literally every word, Col. Aetos makes an appearance and is a total jerk, as usual, delving into Dain's ~issues~ a bit, and hopefully showing a little more of Love's personality. I really like this one. a lot. I hope you do too. no other girlfriends mentioned this time, but can anyone guess who a certain someone was looking for before the speeches started?

It’s been over a year since you’ve spent this much time getting ready for anything. You’ve missed this feeling, sitting in front of your mirror humming a soft tune as you go through your routine, doing up your hair -- that part is made much easier with your signet, the strands curling and smoothing and pinning themselves to your liking while you darken your eyelashes and brush through your eyebrows, glossing your lips and making everything soft and shiny.

It’s a nice change of pace from your usual rushed mornings at the school, but it doesn’t feel the same, not how it used to, when you’d do all of this with a smile, genuinely excited for the occasion, for the opportunity to take a break from the training and the preparing-for-war to spend time with your family at their formal gatherings, with singing and dancing and food and all the trappings of Tyrrish culture -- because the occasion you’re preparing for right now is a holiday celebrating the anniversary of Navarre making those things illegal.

Either way, you look damn good, and you’re going to let everybody in attendance see it. 

“Your friends are outside,” Cosa reports — you’d told them not to wait for you, and they know better than that, anyway, especially when you have a reason to take your time getting ready like this.

With one last adjustment to the skirt of your dress, and one more lingering glance at yourself in the mirror, you drape the long silk wrap over your shoulders and slip out your door, heading down the hall out to the courtyard, where the party — if one could call it that — is just getting started, cadets trickling in slowly and settling into their formations.

You spot Dain in his usual place in the block. Of course he’d be one of the first to get here.

“You clean up nicely,” you greet, brushing a piece of fluff from the collar of his uniform. You let your fingertips skim over the broad expanse of his shoulder, lingering perhaps a second too long before you pull your hand back.

He represses a shiver, his cheeks reddening. “You too,” he manages. “You’re… wow.”

You smile at how flustered he is, at the blush spreading across his cheeks and his difficulty forming complete sentences. “Thank you. I may have a shitty relationship with this holiday, but I’ll take the excuse to be pretty for an evening.”

“You’re always pretty,” he says quietly, still looking at you.

It’s a compliment you’ve gotten from dozens of men before, one you usually brush off, but your heart skips hearing it from the one man who hasn’t been falling at your feet all year. 

“He thinks I’m pretty,” you whisper to Cosa, unable to keep the smile off your face.

She sounds amused. “Of course he does. Now, are you going to do something about it?”

That is the question; but she should know by now that you don’t chase after anything or anyone, especially not men.

“Thank you,” you reply warmly.

It’s obvious that he doesn’t know where to go from here, what to say next. 

You’re standing at eye level with him, or close to it, for the first time ever, and he can’t look away; mesmerized by the color of your irises and the flutter of your eyelashes as you blink, the barely-there shimmer coating your eyelids.

“Are you wearing heels?” he asks, finally putting it together. 

You nod, shifting the long skirt of your dress to show him the simple black stilettos underneath, thick silk ribbons wrapped around your ankles to keep them in place, tied with perfect bows.

He’s in over his head. Thankfully the next sentence that comes out of his mouth isn’t about how much he’d like to kneel down and tug at the ribbons until the bows came undone, to slide the shoes off and… 

“Did you really cross the parapet with those in your bag?” he asks, still looking at them.

“I did,” you answer, smiling. “They’re my favorites — they were a gift from my favorite brother. And they’re black, so they’re codex-approved.”

Fair enough.

It stands to reason that you’d have a favorite pair of shoes, and a collection of them back home — in the year that he’s known you, he’s learned that you place a high value on your physical appearance, and you aren’t afraid to modify your uniform within the bounds of regulation, finding subtle ways of making it your own.

You settle into your usual spot between him and Sawyer, who looks to be searching for someone in the crowd, his shoulders sinking when he realizes they aren’t there. You offer him a soft smile that he returns silently, your attention returning to the dais just as the clock strikes seven.

“I should have asked Bodhi what his bet was on the length of the speeches,” you tell Cosa, preparing yourself for a very boring next thirty minutes. She doesn’t respond. 

It's a bit unfair that her and her friends get the evening off while you’re forced to listen to these self-labeled war heroes prattle on about patriotism and the importance of this terrible holiday as if you and your compatriots aren’t even here.

“Twenty-eight minutes,” she relays after a few seconds.

You try not to laugh. “Tell him I say thirty-two, and the winner gets ten Krown.”

Another short pause. “He finds these terms acceptable.”

You subtly shift your weight back and forth between your feet throughout the speeches — which add up to thirty-one minutes, if you count the awkward transitions between them — having grown unused to the heeled shoes in the last year of wearing flat black boots every day.

You’re finally dismissed, the formations breaking as riders move around to find their friends for the rest of the evening. You turn toward third wing, looking for Imogen, who will be the easiest to spot with her unconventional hair color — you’re sure she absolutely despises this whole thing, but especially the required dress.

“Cadet Aetos,” someone calls, and he freezes at the voice for a split second before turning toward it.

The colonel insignia on the man’s collar and the shape of his jaw is enough for you to connect the dots — that’s Dain’s father, and he’s approaching with both General Sorrengail and King Tauri in tow.

You’ve just spotted Imogen and Bodhi, but you can’t leave now, not when three of the aforementioned war heroes are looking directly at you. You plaster a smile onto your face, adjusting your shawl. “Your Majesty, General, Colonel,” you greet in order of rank, extending a perfect curtsy to the king with a polite smile and a nod of the head to the others.

The monarch smiles back, but the officers don’t.

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” the Colonel says, turning his gaze to you. Ice spreads through your veins, and for a moment you wonder if he possesses some physiological signet that he’s using on you, or if he’s just that cold and calculating because he knows exactly who you are. 

But neither of those options explain why the quadrant’s poster boy is looking at this uniformed officer — his own father — like a wolf that’s about to bite.

You give him a slight dip of your chin in deference. “Cadet Callwell, sir. Second squad, flame section, fourth wing — the same as your son. I can see the family resemblance,” you add with a disarming smile.

Dain winces beside you.

Your graceful response doesn’t seem to have thawed things between you and Aetos Senior any further, but luckily, someone changes the subject of conversation; King Tauri himself. “Tell me, cadets, how are you finding your studies?”

“Very well, your Majesty,” you answer with a polite smile. “We are fortunate to have such experienced and knowledgeable professors.” 

You nudge Dain’s foot with yours, silently prodding him to say something.

“Yes,” he agrees after a few seconds, “Fortunate indeed. The last year has been a challenge, but one that I know will prepare us to serve our country well.”

That is exactly what the King wants to hear. “And how fortunate am I, to have such valiant students with such bright futures ahead of them.”

“You flatter us, Your Majesty,” Dain responds, finally having found his voice.

General Sorregail still hasn’t said a word, watching the pair of you silently.

The Colonel gives you both a curt nod. “Thank you, Cadets. That will be all.”

Dain bows, and you drop another curtsy to the king, earning yourselves another fond smile before you turn away, but as you cross the courtyard, your blood is boiling on Dain’s behalf. Colonel Aetos hadn’t even spared him a smile. No loving touch, no real goodbye for his only son whom he may very well never see again, no use of his name, just Cadet?

Dain speaks first once you’re out of their earshot, sounding stunned. “I don’t think Tauri even realized you were marked. How did you…”

“It’s a party trick of mine,” you answer, stopping to sit on a small stone bench by one of the courtyard’s open archways. “One I learned very quickly after I got this.”

You let the silk drape drop from your shoulders, exposing the smoky relic trailing up your arm. Dain’s eyes catch on it immediately, like they do every time you’re not wearing long sleeves, studying the intricate swirls that don’t seem to follow any particular pattern, winding up and down your arm near-randomly.

“It’s the first thing anyone sees about me, or any of my friends. But I figured out that if I was perfect in every other regard, if I was charming enough and followed all the rules and did everything correctly, they wouldn’t notice it,” you say, gazing up at the stars. 

It’s a remarkably clear night, several of the summer constellations visible, but he remains focused entirely on you as you continue.

“The thing people don’t realize is that we’re all from “good families”, or we were, before they killed our parents. The Laurents were one of the most successful families in Tyrrendor before their assets were seized. So were the Durrans. Xaden is technically a Duke, now that he’s of age, but his duchy was burnt to a crisp.

My point is, we all know how to stand on ceremony and lay a proper table and dance a waltz and speak to authority figures, but people see the relics, or the names on our flight jackets, or how we speak or braid our hair or anything that shows our culture, and they forget all that. They just see a pack of rabid dogs.

Navarre used to respect us, to look at us like we were valuable. And then once we asked for not just a seat at their table, but for a table of our own, they decided we weren’t worth the dirt our houses were built on, and that everything we touched was tainted. They torched my mother’s rose garden and shattered every window in the house the day they arrested my father, just because they could.

So I know it sounds pathetic, or bratty, or whatever other adjectives you want to use, but being able to wear high heels and makeup and a pretty dress once a year is important to me, even if it’s for a holiday celebrating the death of so many people I loved, because it’s the only time that I get to feel like the girl I used to be, who didn’t have to fight for her life every day, who had parents that loved her more than anything in the world, and who was looked at like a person, not a fugitive or a liability or a wild animal.”

“It’s not pathetic,” he says softly. “I know I will never truly understand, but I get it. And for whatever it’s worth, you look perfect.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He starts another sentence that’s interrupted by the crackle of fireworks exploding into the air, startling both of you. He laughs, a sound you’ve hardly ever heard over the last year, but you like it.

You drape the silk back around your shoulders to fight the chill of the night air and pat the cold stone next to you, inviting him to sit. He accepts, perching on the other end of the bench and looking up at the night sky, keeping a respectful distance between you as the show continues, a few minutes of comfortable quiet.

With one last fizzling red firework, the display ends, and you hear applause from the other side of the courtyard, where most of the quadrant is gathered.

“Dain,” you say quietly, throwing him off balance, “I wanted to apologize earlier, but…”

“What for?” he asks, that cute little confused look on his face, head tilted and brows pinched. It would make you smile if you weren’t about to rip the bandage clean off, to end whatever this is before it can even start. 

You choose your words delicately. “Tauri may not have realized who I am, but your father certainly did, and judging by the way he left things with you, he was clearly upset by it. If that’s going to have consequences for you, that he found you talking to me…”

“Oh, he’s always been like that,” he dismisses. “He’s never been one for any kind of affection. I’ve learned not to take it personally.”

It all makes sense now, why Dain is… like that, why he never touches you, why you’re always just Cadet Callwell to him and never anything else, why he’s so strict and by the book; the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

But from the two minutes you’d spent with the Colonel, you can tell that Dain is twice the man he’ll ever be; not cold and uncaring, not prejudiced or cruel… he might even have room for someone like you in his heart.

You shouldn’t get your hopes up about that.

“Still… I’m sorry,” you say softly. “If he gets mad at you about it, say the word and I’ll keep my distance, or ask to be reassigned. I don’t want to make things tense between you.”

“It’s fine,” he reassures. “I’m sorry he made you uncomfortable. He tends to have that effect on people. It’s part of the reason I didn’t have many friends growing up— the other kids were scared of him.” 

He smiles, but you can tell there’s a tender wound underneath. “And I wanted to say it earlier, too, but thank you. For helping me not look like a total idiot in front of the king, and for showing me a new perspective.”

You smile — not the fake one he’d seen you give Tauri, but a real smile, one that makes your eyes sparkle like the stars. “Of course.” 

“Your friends are probably looking for you,” he says quietly, and you startle as you realize he’s right, that you’d completely forgotten about finding them, too focused on impressing the King, and then you hadn’t wanted to abandon Dain after that conversation… It’s not like you wanted to spend time with him or anything. You definitely wouldn’t choose him over your friends, right?

You rise from the bench, smoothing a hand over your skirt. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he replies, giving you one last look, soaking up the sight of you in that dress before you walk away and things go back to normal between you: regular uniforms tomorrow morning, and your usual rivalry and bickering at formation, with your friends constantly watching the pair of you and scrutinizing his every move.

If you hadn’t each inherited the wars of your fathers, maybe then this could work — but then you would never have met. 

He doesn’t know if that would be better or worse.

[hiro--aoki]

TWD X TUMBLR Chapter One: Where The Story Starts

TW: No trigger warnings out of the usual twd stuff, you know the drill

A/n: and. here. we. go.

Next Chapter

“Hello? Hello, can anyone hear my voice? Over”

Everyone’s heads turn towards the radio. There hasn’t been a transmission since they bombed Atlanta. Everyone rushes over, Amy getting there first, dropping the sticks she had gathered for the fire.

She grabs the radio with a shaky hand, nearly dropping it, “Hey. Hello?”

“Can anyone hear my voice?” The person on the other end continues.

“Yes, you’re coming through. I can hear your voice. Over.” She says, excitement filling her voice.

“If anyone reads, please respond.” The voice continues.

People start to crowd around Amy and the radio. Her faces falls, as she realises, she isn’t coming through to the person.

“Broadcasting on emergency channel. Will be approaching Atlanta on highway 85. If anybody reads, please respond.”

“We’re just outside the city- “But Amy’s interrupted by radio static.

“Damn it.” She mutters, “Hello? Hello? He couldn’t hear me; I couldn’t warn him.”

“Try to raise him again,” Dale offers, “C’mon son, you know best how to work this thing.”

Dale gestures to Shane. Shane slams his hatchet down onto the wooden log the radio is resting on, before kneeling and taking the radio from Amy’s hand.

“Hello, hello. Is the person who called still on the air?”

Everyone listens for a moment, only to hear static yet again.

“This is officer Shane Walsh, responding to person unknown, please respond.”

Another moment of nothing before Shane puts down the radio, “He’s gone.”

Lori breaks the silence, “There are others, it’s not just us.”

“We knew there would be, right?” Shane replies, “That’s why we left the C.B. on.”

“Lot of good it’s been doing. I’ve been saying for a week, we ought to  put signs up on 85 and warn people away from the city.” Lori points out.

“She’s not wrong, Shane.” Lily calls out from her spot with Carl, Kayden and Delilah.

“Folks got no idea what they’re getting into.” Amy adds.

“Well,” Shane says as he stands, “We haven’t had time.”

“I think we need to make time.” Lori says, firmer than before.

“That’s a luxury we can’t afford. We are surviving here; we are day to day.”

“And who the hell would you propose we send?” Dale asks, trying to calm the atmosphere.

“I’ll go. Give me a vehicle.” Lori says countering again.

“I’ll come too.” Lily adds.

“And me!” Delilah demands.

“Nobody goes anywhere alone, and I’m not letting you take two children as support.” Shane answers, leaving no room for arguments.

Lori stays silent for a minute, before mumbling a “Yes sir,” as she walks back to her tent.

Carl goes to follow, holding Kayden’s hand, bringing her too.

“Hey, hey, hey, take a seat kiddos. You’re alright, c’mon.” Shane stops them.

Carl and Kayden stand there for a minute, before Carl continues walking ignoring Shane’s command. Lily follows, stopping them.

“Kay, can you help ‘Lilah, sort the firewood?” She asks.

Kayden nods and runs over to Delilah who is sorting through the sticks Amy had found, as Delilah explains which ones are good to burn, and which ones aren’t.

“Mom?” Carl calls out to Lori.

Shane walks out of the tent first, “Sup, buddy, she’s in there, go on.”

As Shane walks away, he passes Lily who mumbles, “I’m not a kid.”

“Hey,” Lori says to Carl, “I don’t want you or Lily to worry, mama’s not going anywhere, okay?”

Carl nods, with his innocent grin.

“Go finish your chores.” She smiles.

“Okay.” He waddles off to help Delilah and Kayden.

_______Later That Day_______

Amy, followed by Delilah, carries a bucket of fungi to Lori.

“Get a lot?” Lori queries.

“How do we know if they’re poison?” Amy asks as she tips the bucket towards Lori to show her the contents.

Lori holds out a bowl, and Amy tips them in.

“Uh, there’s only one sure way I know of.” Lori says, as she starts to fumble around with a mushroom.

Delilah lifts one to her mouth.

“Don’t.” Lori warns.

Amy crouches down next to the fire, “Ask Shane when he gets back?”

“Yeah.” Lori stands, picking up the bucket.

As she starts to walk to the forest, she calls out to Dale, “Dale. I’m headin’ out.”

She then turns to Carl, “Sweetheart, I want you to stay where Dale or Lily can see you, okay?”

“Yes, mom.” Carl says as he continues to play with Kayden.

“You too! Don’t wander too far; stay within shouting distance, and if you see anything, holler. Okay?” Dale says, his protectiveness showing through his tone of voice.

“Yes mom.” Lori mumbles sarcastically as she walks into the forest.

After she disappears into the forest, Lily calls out to Carl, Kayden, Sophia and Delilah.

“Do you guys wanna hear a story?”

This excites them easily, even Delilah, and they all scramble to sit in front of her.

“Have you heard the story of the big bad wolf and the three little pigs?”

“This story again? You told this one a few nights ago. I came here for energy, creativity, a masterpiece, if you will. This is why Glenn is our story teller. Get your mind in the game, Lils.” Delilah complains.

“You got a better idea, ‘Mrs Rhee’?” Lily asks, with a grin.

“What about a story about a dinosaur?” Carl asks.

“In outer space.” Kayden adds.

“And maker the dinosaur a fairy warrior princess!” Delilah smiles.

_______Meanwhile_______

Rick climbs out of the tank, pushing and shooting walkers away, while he follows the instructions the two voices over the radio had said.

He quickly finds the alley, seeing something moving, points his gun up.

“Woah! Not dead! Not dead!” The Korean says.

“C’mon, hurry.” The lady says.

All three run down the alley to a ladder.  The lady climbs up first, then the guy.

“What are you doing?!” Hurry up!” The man hisses at Rick.

The walkers below growl and grunt as they climb higher onto the building.

The three of them reach a ledge. They lean against the railing as they catch their breathe.

“Nice moves there, Clint Eastwood. You the new sheriff?” The mystery man asks, taking in Rick’s uniform, “Come riding in to clean up the town?”

“Wasn’t my intention-“

“Yeah whatever.” The lady interrupts.

“Well, yee haw, you’re still a dumbass.” The man adds.

There’s another moment of silence before Rick offers the man his hand, “Rick. Thanks.”

The man looks at his hand for a second before shaking it, “Glenn, you’re welcome.”

Rick then offers his hand to the lady.

She shakes his hand, “Artemis.”

“Oh no,” Glenn says, as he peers over the railing at the walkers, who are blocking one two ways off the balcony.

The three of them glance up at the ladder that takes them further up the building.

“Bright side: it’ll be the fall that kills us.” Glenn says.

This earns a look from Rick.

“He’s a glass half full kinda guy.” Artemis chuckles.

This time, Glenn climbs up the ladder first, then Artemis, and finally, after stealing a glance at the decaying nightmares, Rick.

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