#i will literally give him anything he wants

[rafecameronssl4t]

Ok, question, fem! forced marriage au - how would Rafe react/feel if she brought up ANYTHING about separating, weather that’s flat out divorce or doing it in secret - happy to the public but living in diff spaces/diff lives/maybe even having affairs(?)

Tied bonds || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: don't mind me going off slightly in the beginning when its talking about the legality side of it, i was literally studying trusts and estates law a couple days ago lol

Warnings: angst galore!

Word count: 2,801

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The heavy oak doors of the estate’s study shut behind you with a quiet but resolute thud, isolating you from the rest of the world. The room, with its high ceilings and ornate furnishings, exudes both the security and suffocation of wealth. The scent of polished mahogany and aged leather permeates the air, a sensory reminder of the legacy you're bound to uphold and the responsibilities weighing on your shoulders.

The dim light from the tall windows casts long shadows across the room, making it feel as though the walls themselves are closing in, urging you to act before time runs out. You sit across from your lawyer at the broad mahogany desk. He’s a man in his 50s, with silver-threaded hair and sharp, calculating eyes. His demeanour exudes quiet authority, the kind of calm that comes from handling the complex finances of wealthy families like yours for decades.

A briefcase sits open beside him, documents meticulously laid out in front of you. These aren’t just numbers and figures on a page—they represent your children’s future, your security, and the small corner of independence you’re desperately trying to carve out for yourself. “Now, given the scale of your family’s assets,” your lawyer begins, his voice smooth and professional, “it’s prudent to separate certain accounts. Some in your name, some under irrevocable trusts for the children. This will not only shield them from potential claims but also provide financial protection in the event of....unforeseen circumstances—marital or otherwise.”

You glance down at the papers, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension. This was necessary, you remind yourself. You need some semblance of independence, some safeguard for your children. With Rafe’s unpredictable behaviour and the constant pressure from both families, you can’t afford to let everything slip from your control. Your lawyer pulls out another document, sliding it across the desk.

“We’re talking about setting up separate trusts for each of your children. These funds will be distributed to them upon reaching a certain age—18 or 21, depending on your preference. In the meantime, control of the trust can be vested in you alone, ensuring that no one else has access to or influence over these assets, including your husband.”

“And what about Rafe’s side of the family?” you ask, your voice quieter than you intended. “Would they have any legal claim?” The lawyer shakes his head firmly. “No. Not if everything is properly structured. The trusts would be irrevocable, meaning no one—not even your husband—could alter them once established. His family would have no legal right to interfere, regardless of any financial entanglements between the two of you.”

You take a breath, the enormity of it all settling in. This is exactly what you wanted—an impenetrable safeguard. A plan that ensures your children’s future remains under your control, untouched by the unpredictable tides of Rafe’s influence or the demands of your family. “Thank you,” you respond softly, your fingers tracing the edge of the document, the weight of your decision pressing heavily on your chest. “I want everything arranged quietly,” you say softly, your voice carrying the weight of your decision.

“No one else needs to know about this… especially my husband.” The lawyer gives a small, understanding nod. “Discretion is key, as always.” You sign where indicated, feeling a mixture of relief and unease as you watch your name inked onto the page. This is the right thing to do, you remind yourself. For your children, for their future. Yet as you rise from the desk and collect your things, a sense of foreboding lingers.

The heavy oak doors creak open as you step out, and the estate feels impossibly vast around you. Despite the careful planning, you can’t shake the feeling that keeping this from Rafe will lead to complications far greater than you anticipate. With every step you take, the sinking feeling grows. You only hope Rafe doesn’t find out before you’re ready to tell him.

~

The moment you step through the front door of your home, the tension in the air is palpable. You pause, your coat still in hand, as your eyes land on Rafe. He’s leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, an almost relaxed posture, but the intensity in his gaze betrays any notion of calm. His sharp blue eyes follow your every move, calculating, probing.

"You have a nice little meeting today?" His voice is cold, deceptively casual. But you can hear the edge in it—the suspicion lurking beneath the surface. Your heart skips a beat, anxiety pooling in your chest. Of course, he knows. Rafe always knows. You hang your coat on the rack, avoiding his gaze, trying to maintain some semblance of calm. "I had a few things to take care of. Where are the children?"

You answer nonchalantly, hoping to steer the conversation away from any confrontation. "With Astoria, they wanted to play with their cousins," Rafe answers, his gaze sharp as he pushes off the doorframe, taking a slow, deliberate step toward you, his presence overwhelming as always. "Answer my question," His tone hardens, suspicion fully creeping into his voice now. "I know you met with your lawyer. What are you up to?"

Your pulse quickens as you hold Rafe’s gaze, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. He’s already jumping to conclusions, constructing a narrative that fits his fears. You knew this confrontation was inevitable, but the reality of it still unsettles you, the tension in the room thick and suffocating. "It’s nothing that concerns you," you respond, keeping your tone as even as possible, despite the way your nerves fray under his scrutiny. "Just some family matters."

Rafe scoffs, the sound harsh and filled with disbelief. His jaw clenches as he steps even closer, his towering figure casting a shadow over you, blocking any hope of retreat. His presence is overbearing, the heat of his anger palpable in the air between you. "Family matters?" His voice is dripping with accusation, dark and biting. "Don’t play games with me. I heard enough to know this wasn’t just about your parents or your siblings."

His words cut deeper as his tone drops, low and dangerous. "You’re setting up trust funds. Inheritance management. Without telling me. What the hell are you planning?" His words slam into you, twisting your stomach in knots. His paranoia, the sharpness of his accusations, stings in a way you hadn’t fully prepared for. Of course, you knew he’d react like this, but hearing it out loud—his anger, his distrust—it’s worse than you imagined. You steady your breath, trying to keep your composure.

"It’s for the children, Rafe," you say, your voice soft but firm, though the tightness in your chest makes it difficult to breathe. "I want to make sure they’re taken care of, no matter what happens. That’s all this is." But even as you say it, you can see the suspicion lingering in his eyes, the doubt still gnawing at him, twisting this simple act of protection into something more sinister in his mind.

Rafe glares at you, his eyes dark and intense as they search your face for the slightest hint of deception. His presence feels overwhelming as he steps even closer, the space between you disappearing in an instant. Without breaking eye contact, his hand moves down deliberately, resting on the swell of your belly where your third child grows. His touch, firm and possessive, sends a chill through you.

"You don’t trust me with that?" His voice is low, almost a growl, laced with an edge of disbelief and wounded pride. "You think I wouldn’t look out for my own kids?" His words sting, but it's the subtle accusation in his tone that cuts deeper, as if he can’t comprehend why you would feel the need to act independently. Your frustration bubbles to the surface despite your best efforts to remain calm, your emotions swirling between anger and exhaustion.

"That’s not what this is about," you snap, your voice sharp as the tension between you flares. You're trying to hold it together, but the weight of his misunderstanding—of him always assuming the worst—pushes you to the brink. "I’m doing this to protect them. To protect us. You can’t control everything, Rafe." For a split second, something flickers in his eyes—hurt, maybe—but it vanishes quickly, replaced by his usual defensiveness. He steps closer, his voice lowering, cold and accusatory.

"You’re doing all of this behind my back," he growls. "And I’m supposed to believe it’s just for the kids? You don’t set up secret meetings with lawyers for something as simple as trust funds. It looks more like you’re preparing for something else. Like maybe you’re planning to escape this all." His breath is hot against your ear now, the venom in his words unmistakable. "Is that it? Are you getting ready to leave me?"

His accusation hits you hard, knocking the air from your lungs. The vulnerability behind it cuts deeper than you expected. It’s not just anger simmering in his voice—there’s fear too, buried beneath the suspicion, fear of losing control, of you slipping away. His jaw tightens, but his hand remains firmly pressed against the swell of your stomach, as if anchoring himself to you, to the life you’re carrying.

“And have our children without their father?” you ask, your voice sharp. There’s a flicker of something more beneath the surface—hurt, uncertainty. His eyes search yours, almost pleading. You blink, stunned by the weight of your own question. “Rafe…” you begin, your voice barely a whisper, incredulity lacing your words as you try to make sense of what you’ve just implied. “I’m not leaving you.”

The tension in the room feels suffocating, as if the walls themselves are closing in. You take a breath, steadying yourself, as you step closer, your gaze softening despite the frustration swirling inside you. "This isn’t about that,” you say gently, trying to reach him through the haze of his suspicions. “But I need some control over my life, Rafe. Some protection.” Your voice wavers slightly, but you press on. “I’m not just here to be controlled or managed. I need to know that I’m not just a piece in this game.”

You can feel his breath against your skin, heavy with unspoken fears, and for a brief moment, the façade of his strength cracks. The fear of losing control, of losing you, is palpable, and it clings to the space between you like a storm cloud ready to burst. He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, pacing in frustration. "Control. Protection," he mutters under his breath, his movements sharp and agitated. "You think I’m the threat here? You think I wouldn’t protect you? Protect our family?"

You shake your head, stepping back slightly, trying to maintain some distance from the intensity of his emotions. "I never said that," you say, your voice softer now, trying to calm him. "But this is something I need to do. For me. For them." For a long moment, the two of you stand there, locked in a silent standoff. His breathing is heavy, and the anger in his eyes slowly shifts into something else—something more conflicted. He turns away from you, pacing a few steps before running his hands through his hair again.

"This isn’t how marriages are supposed to work," Rafe mutters, more to himself than to you. The words cut deep, piercing through the fragile layer of calm you’ve been clinging to. It’s a painful reminder of what your marriage has become—what it’s always been. The expectations, the compromises, the strain. This life… it’s not what either of you envisioned. You feel the urge to retort, to let loose the frustrations that have built up over the years, but you bite your tongue. Now isn’t the time for that argument.

"I know," you whisper, though you’re not sure if he hears you. The admission feels hollow in the tense silence that follows, the weight of your reality pressing down on both of you. The room feels unbearably heavy, the air thick with unsaid words. Rafe exhales, his broad shoulders sagging ever so slightly, as though some of the fire inside him has been extinguished. He turns his back to you, the physical distance a reflection of the emotional chasm that has been growing between you both.

For a brief moment, you consider stepping closer, reaching out, bridging that gap—but the weight of your decision, of everything you’ve been trying to secure for yourself and the children, holds you back. It’s a boundary you can’t afford to cross right now. "You should’ve told me," he finally says, his voice quieter, but still taut with lingering tension. There’s hurt there, beneath the anger, beneath his instinct to control everything around him.

Your throat tightens at his words, the soft accusation lingering in the space between you. "I didn’t want this to turn into a fight," you admit, your own voice subdued, drained from the confrontation. The fatigue in your bones echoes in your tone. "I just needed to make sure everything was in place. For the kids, for their future." You pause, the weight of your decisions settling on your chest. "I wasn’t trying to hide it from you."

Rafe turns back to face you, his expression a mixture of frustration, hurt, and something more vulnerable—something he rarely lets show. "It feels like you were," he mutters, the edge of accusation still present, though softer now. His blue eyes search yours, looking for answers, reassurance, something to ease the fear behind his suspicion. You hold his gaze, trying to convey the truth behind your words. "I need to feel like I have some control, Rafe," you say gently, your voice steady but laced with an underlying sadness.

"Our lives… they’re not easy. And I know you want to protect us, but I need to protect them too. In my own way." Your heart beats heavily in your chest, each word an attempt to bridge the gap between you, a gap that seems to widen with every conflict. Rafe’s gaze lingers on you, the tension between you both crackling in the air. You take a tentative step forward, closing the physical distance between you, hoping it will ease the emotional one. Just as you stop inches from him, his expression softens slightly.

He reaches for your hand, his grip firm yet tender, and before you can say anything, he brings it up to his lips. The moment feels suspended in time as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. It’s a gesture so gentle, so unlike the earlier confrontation, that it catches you off guard. The vulnerability in his eyes flickers, almost as if he’s silently asking for forgiveness or offering an unspoken truce.

You feel your heart ache, the gesture disarming you in a way his words couldn’t. It’s as though this kiss is his way of telling you that, despite his anger, despite his suspicions, there’s something deeper binding you together—a love neither of you can deny, even in moments like this. “I’m not the enemy, Y/n,” he repeats softly, his voice rough but sincere, the earlier accusation tempered by this quiet moment.

His lips linger on your skin for just a second longer before he lowers your hand, though he doesn’t let go. You swallow hard, your chest tight with emotion, your voice a whisper as you respond. "I know you're not." The air between you feels different now—quieter, softer, though still tinged with the weight of everything unresolved. For that fleeting moment, it feels as though the two of you are in sync again, even if just barely.

Rafe’s hand remains wrapped around yours, and though the tension between you hasn’t fully dissipated, it’s no longer suffocating. The kiss to your knuckles feels like a promise, fragile but meaningful. As he finally lets go and turns away, you watch him disappear down the hallway, the memory of his lips on your skin lingering long after he's gone. The weight of your choices still presses down on you, but somehow, in that brief exchange, it feels a little lighter.

You know this isn’t over. Rafe’s suspicions won’t vanish overnight, and your need for autonomy remains unresolved. But for now, the confrontation is over. The weight of your decisions, the strain on your already fragile relationship, presses down on you like a heavy cloak. You did the right thing, you remind yourself. This is about protecting your children, about securing a future for them. For now, all you can do is hope that, in time, he’ll come to understand why you did this. Why you needed to.

[ariestrxsh]

🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, heavy step sibling kink, brutal face fucking, breath play, dacryphilia, degradation, humiliation, light praise, roughdom!stepbro!chris, bratty!stepsis!reader

🖤 author's note: 🖤 this is not incest!!! the characters are step siblings. i'm aware that it's still morally grey for some people. totally get it. if you don't like the concept, don't read it bc it will literally be impossible for you to forget they're step siblings. 😭 i just need rough dom stepbro chris more than i need air in my lungs. (this joke will be even funnier to you after you read this fic if you do.) and last thing: sorry x100 for writing this lmao. and a super big sorry to anyone who's on my taglist who didn't wanna read this.

🖤 summary: 🖤 after arguing about whose turn it is to do the dishes, you and your step-brother chris decide to have a breath-holding contest, but there's only one way chris can be sure that you're playing fair.

holdyourbreath

"So, are you going to do the dishes before my dad and your mom get home?" Your eyes darted up at Chris, your disgusting new step brother, from across the room while you were curled up on the living room floor next to the dim lamp with a warm blanket and a good book.

"Are you fuckin' with me, kid? I thought it was your turn to do the dishes," Chris replied smugly, glaring at you from his gaming chair as he sat in front of the TV, mindlessly playing some dumb Modern Warfare whatever number they're on now.

"I did them last night," you responded defensively, your voice becoming shrill. "Yeah, and I did them two nights in a row before that. What's the big deal?" Chris snapped back, rolling his eyes at how whiny you were.

You resented how hard-headed he was, especially because you were hard-headed, and there was only room for one stubborn person in this house.

His mom had met your dad about six months prior and three months into knowing each other, they eloped, and now you were stuck living under someone else's roof with an obnoxious, gross, smug step brother who never carried his weight around the place and made everything everyone else's problem.

You weren't the type of person to use the word hate lightly, but you hated Chris.

"Chris, can you please just do the dishes? I'm busy. I'm right about to reach the climax in this book," you responded in an agitated and slightly desperate tone. "Well, I'm busy, too. I'm about to go climax after this game," Chris chuckled at your word choice.

"Ugh, you're disgusting!" You slammed your book shut, shooting him a look of contempt. "Sorry, princess. Did I ruin your climax?" Chris smirked, motioning towards your book and biting his lip.

You almost got up and just did the dishes yourself, because you knew they needed to be done, and despite how much you didn't want it to be true, Chris was perhaps, even more hard-headed than you, but you had an idea.

"Let's settle this like adults. Breath holding contest. Whoever holds their breath the longest doesn't have to do the dishes tonight," you suggested, and Chris gave you a look like you'd given him an offer he couldn't refuse.

You and Chris were both competitive, and contests were often the only effective way to settle arguments between the two of you. Sometimes it would be rock, paper, scissors. Or a staring contest. Or a one-on-one game of basketball. Anything you guys could turn into a competition really.

"Deal," Chris confidently responded, pausing his game and spinning around in his chair until he was facing you. "Okay, on the count of three," you said, setting a stopwatch on your phone, and the two of you both took in a deep inhale before holding your breath as long as you could.

You and Chris stared directly at each other, giving each other dirty looks and sizing each other up, both trying to gain dominance over the other. You didn't really care to stay true to the game and play fair. When you started running out of air, you slowly exhaled through your nose, cycling your breath and hoping Chris wouldn't catch on.

You couldn't let that smug bastard win. After all, it was his turn to do the dishes, and your book was way more important than his stupid video games.

After the stopwatch hit a minute and a forty-five seconds, Chris' face was turning a bit red. He pinched his eyebrows together and scrunched his nose at you in a look of displeasure, and after about fifteen more seconds of this, Chris let out a long, angry exhale. "Fuck you, you're cheating!" He accused you.

"I am not!" You snarked back, but the way your voice naturally raised an octave or two had even you unconvinced of your own lie. "Bitch, you didn't even breathe out before you said that. And you don't look or sound out of breath at all," Chris replied, narrowing his eyes at you and clenching his jaw.

"I wasn't cheating," you said, avoiding eye contact. "You were, and I can prove it," Chris licked his lips maliciously and grinned at you. "You can prove it?" You said in a skeptical tone, testing him. Chris stood up, slowly sauntered over to you while you were still sitting on the ground.

He peered down at you with a darkness in his eyes as he started unfastening his belt and unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. "What the fuck are you doing?" You asked, glaring up at him, but your eyes fell and widened when he pulled out his big, juicy dick. It was already hard and the tip was swollen and shiny with a layer of precum.

Conveniently for Chris, your jaw dropped as you studied the way his veins webbed out across the backside of his shaft, and he took this opportunity to grab onto the back of your head and shove his throbbing cock into your gaping mouth. He let out a satisfied exhale and his eyes gently rolled back as he relished in the wet warmth you provided for him.

He held your head in place and forced every inch down your throat until you could feel the hem of his shirt tickling your nose. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone, and he opened the stopwatch function on it. He then placed it into your trembling hand.

"You're gonna hold this for me, you fucking cunt. You're gonna hold it up so I can see it, and we're gonna count together how long you can hold your breath, yeah?" Chris said through gritted teeth before hitting the start button.

Chris' left hand was still tangled in your hair, and with his right hand, he pinched your nose closed between his thumb and pointer finger. "Be a good girl and hold your breath for me," he whispered to you, admiring the way your soft, pretty lips looked keeping his cock warm for him.

"Come on, princess. It's only been fifteen seconds. I know you can keep going since you're so good at holding your breath, right?" He taunted you as he peered down at the tears forming in your eyes.

"Like having your step brother's dick in your mouth? I bet you do. Didn't even put up a fight or nothin', you just let me stick it in," Chris spoke to you in a low, dominant voice that immediately had your pussy drooling for him. "Thirty seconds," Chris relayed, his eyes bouncing back and forth between your pretty little mouth and the stopwatch.

"Fuck, it's so nice to have some peace and quiet around here for once. No bitchin', no complainin', no whinin'. Just the sweet sound of you gagging on me," Chris moaned, gently rocking his hips back and forth and relishing in the soft choking noises that came from you, his belt buckle softly clanking against itself.

"See? Now that's what it looks like when you're actually holding your breath. Forty-five seconds," Chris smirked down at you, noting how red your face was getting from lack of air.

He started to fuck your face a little rougher, still cutting off your oxygen flow, the sound of the metal on his belt getting louder. You could feel his tip grazing that spot at the back of your throat, tickling your gag reflex. You could feel his pretty veins with your tongue as it rested on the backside of his length.

"You like having your mouth used by your step brother? I bet you like when I remind you what I am to you, huh? Does it make you wet? How wrong it is?" Chris teased you, thrusting back and forth, his eyes rolling back into his head as several animalistic moans left his mouth.

You didn't want to admit it, but Chris was right. There was something about it that was so taboo that you couldn't help but soak your panties while Chris used you however he wanted. "One minute. You already look like you need air, princess," Chris taunted you, his jaw slacking as he looked down at the tears rolling down your cheeks. "So pretty when you cry for me," he let out a breathy moan while he threw his head back.

Your heart started pounding in you ears, your palms were sweating, and your eyes felt like they were going to bulge out of your head. You did secretly love choking on your step brother's gorgeous cock, but you really couldn't breathe, and you didn't have the lung capacity for this.

You took your free hand, made a fist with it and started pounding on Chris' thigh to let him know you'd had enough. "Admit you lied and that you like this, and I'll let you breathe," Chris cooed, peering down at you and how desperately you gazed up at him.

You were too prideful. Surely, he'd have to let go of your nose regardless of whether you admitted to it or not, right? You pounded on his thigh again.

"All you have to do, princess, is nod your head when I ask you these next few questions, and I'll let go," Chris said to you slowly as if you were dumb. "Did you cheat during our contest and then lie about it?" He inquired, staring down at your makeup streaking down your cheeks. You couldn't take it any longer. You nodded.

"Good answer. Now does it make you wet? How wrong it is to have your step brother's dick in your pretty little mouth?" He asked in a soft, sweet tone, which didn't match the vile words pouring from his pouty lips. Humiliation welled in you, and you looked up at your step brother in shame as you hesitantly nodded your head.

"That's what I thought," Chris whispered, finally letting go of your nose and pulling his meat out of your throat, eliciting several loud gasping and coughing sounds from you before you started violently panting, desperately trying to catch your breath.

"Fuck, I can't believe you liked that. You're so fucked up," Chris whispered, winking down at you and smiling, knowing he liked it just as much. "You know, while I have you here, I may as well have you finish the job, hmm?" He suggested, searching your face for a reaction.

Desperation filled your eyes while you gazed up at him and slowly nodded. You hated the way he had you submitting to him, and so easily, too, but you couldn't help the way it turned you on to think about your step brother busting all over your tongue.

He grabbed the back of your head again and made his cock vanish behind your lips once more. He gripped onto your hair tightly, controlling your movements and causing your mouth to jounce on his meat. His hips began involuntarily thrusting back and forth while he enjoyed the way you graciously took every inch like you were starving for it.

Your tongue danced around on the underside of his shaft, supplementing the sensations he was already giving into. The way you stared up at him with your lips embracing all his sensitive nerve endings made him melt in your mouth, and his eyes started to glaze over. You could tell he was getting close.

"Fuck, you're such a good step sister. Takin' me so fuckin' well," he whispered in a sultry voice, contemptuously smiling at you. You couldn't believe how much you were looking forward to making Chris finish on your tastebuds, and you felt repulsed with yourself for getting so wet at his words. No matter how much you tried to remind yourself what a disgusting, selfish jerk he was, your pussy was drooling for him.

"What would your daddy think if he knew his little princess were choking on my dick right now while he finishes up at work?" Chris seductictively teased you, feeding your humiliation kink.

You didn't need to use your words to tell Chris how much you liked everything he was saying to you. He could tell by the desperate glint in your eye that lingered as he degraded you.

"Want your step brother to cum on your pretty little tongue?" Chris cooed, his movements becoming more jagged and messy as he fucked your mouth. "You gotta beg for it, princess, or else I won't give it to ya," he snarked back, his lips curling into a devilish grin.

You peered up at him in silence. Of course you wanted to taste his seed as it poured from his tip, but you wanted him to beg you to let him cum, not the other way around.

He roughly pulled you off his cock and leaned down so that his face was only a few inches from yours. "I said beg," he rasped. Fuck, you thought when you realized you'd already lost the power struggle the second you cheated during the breath-holding contest.

Chris wasn't the type to let things go, and he didn't care about cumming if you weren't going to beg him. He'd leave himself unfinished just to spite you. "Please, Chris.." you softly whined while you were on your knees peering up at him, longingly. "Please what?" He inquired, needing to hear you say it.

"Please. I want you to fill up my mouth," you quietly admitted. "Good girl. Say it again. Beg harder," he lustfully stared down at you, hanging onto your every last word, but you thought you'd try one more time to flip the dynamic on him.

"Be a good boy and cum for me," your lips curled into a smug smile, but Chris wasn't the least bit amused. "That's not how this works. You are not domming me right now, fucking bitch," Chris said, taking your hair into his tight grasp again and shaking you around like a doll. "I fucking said beg. And if you misbehave one more time, I'll never let you suck my cock again," he threatened. You hated how effective this was.

"No, no, no. Please. I'm sorry. Please finish on my tongue. Please. I'm dying for it. I need your cum flooding my mouth until it's overflowing. I'd do anything for it," you whined, giving Chris exactly what he wanted.

"Fuck. So easy. Such a good girl for me. How could I not reward such pretty words?" Chris cooed, making his wand disappear behind your pretty lips again like some kind of deranged magic trick.

He rocked his hips back and forth, triggering your gag reflex some more and relishing in the lovely sound of you choking on him. His moans became deeper and more urgent as you took him so well. "Good girl. Get ready for me, princess. I'm so close," Chris breathlessly called out, violently fucking your face while he manipulated the movement of your head, still holding your hair in his tight grip.

His guttural moans echoed throughout the house as his dick throbbed against your lips, emitting a hot, thick, sticky substance onto your eager tongue while he pumped back and forth, savoring every last bit of pleasure. "Good girl. Swallow," he commanded you, smiling down at the way you obediently listened.

"Fuck," he whispered when he was done using your pretty little back-talking mouth. As he tucked his satisfied cock back into his pants, he wiped away a tear that was running down you cheek and softly said, "Now those dishes aren't going to wash themselves, princess."

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[mattslolita]

I could so imagine Bambi getting compliments in chat and Chris getting jealous so he pulls her on his lap and starts threatening the people who call her pretty

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

"highly requested, bambi's joining another stream again!" nick announces, causing you to giggle.

"hi again guys! i hope y'all are having a great day or night," you tell the viewers, as chris hums from beside you, scrolling through his phone. "what are y'all doing right now?"

a bunch of comments start to roll in, most of them being people being excited and happy to see you again — but then you started seeing comments complimenting you, which made your heart swell.

user1: omfggg bambis so gorgeous

user2: i'd give anything to look like bambi🙏🙏🙏

user3: fuck chris, i want bambi🥴

"you guys are so sweet!" you say, your eyes welling up with tears as you got finished reading some comments out loud, "than-"

"hey, hey chat, none of that," chris says, when the last comment finally registers.

chris pulls you into his lap, causing you to giggle as he points a finger to the stream. "s'my girl, there's not gonna be any 'i want bambi'."

"calm down baby, they're literal angels," you tell him, wrapping one hand around his neck as he holds you against him possessively. a smile graces your features as you peck him on the lips. "besides, i'm not leavin' you any time soon."

"yeah?" chris grins, pecking your lips again, holding you closer.

"yeah," you giggle, pecking his lips again multiple times.

"please take that somewhere else," matt complains, nick nodding in agreement, "enough."

"i will ask you both to leave, i'm not kidding," nick says sternly, his eyes on you as he snaps a finger at you, "behave, y/n."

"wha- i always do!"

[cherib3lla]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 ; 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

warnings — not proofread :( pet names (baby), complete fluff !!

a/n — this is my first fluff fic/blurb so please give me feedback !! i’ve also seen many fics/blurbs like this so credit to the people who have made story’s like this <33 enjoy!

Chris and Matt had been streaming for more than three hours. Ever since Nick had gone on tour with Madison they've been streaming an insane amount. Not that anyone was complaining. The fans loved it.

They typically streamed until late at night. Starting around six or seven o'clock and not ending until at least ten. Even sometimes streaming twice in one night.

You streamed with them for an hour or two. Playing different games with them until you eventually get tired. That's what led you here, sleeping in Chris’ bed while he and Matt played Fortnite.

This was the second stream of the night. You had fallen asleep somewhere in between streams. Chris and Matt started playing Fortnite for the third time that night while you slept.

Everyone knew how mad that game made them. It was unavoidable. Screaming, banging, and chair throwing surrounded the house. To you, it was never that serious. Just a stupid game that they liked to play.

You were wrapped comfortably in Chris’ blankets. Head between two pillows to try and muffle the sound of everything around you. To be frank, it didn't work at all.

“WHAT THE FUCK MATT. GET OVER HERE.” Chris yelled at the screen. Matt yelled back, you could hear him from upstairs. “THIS IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT CHRIS!”

You slowly open your eyes, accepting defeat. You are still in Chris’ bed, out of frame. You sit up with a huff, hair messy, and lips puffy. You wrap the blanket around yourself, get out of bed, and walk over to where Chris is sitting at his desk.

“MY FAULT? YOURE THE ONE WHO-” he gets cut off by your soft hand on his shoulder, tapping gently to get his attention.

“Chris, please come to bed it's almost — three am,” you state as you look in the bottom right corner of his computer. Unbeknownst to the two of you the chat was speeding by with ‘hi’s and ‘good morning’s directed to you.

“I'm sorry — did I wake you?” Chris replys. You wanted to make a snippy comment and say ‘Yeah no shit’, but you didn't. Too tired to really say anything anymore. But you did anyway.

“Yes, now can you please come to bed? It's almost three,” you repeat. “Of course baby — go lay back down I'll be there in a second!”

He leans up to peck your lips. You dodge it playfully and turn to walk back to his bed. His jaw drops. Ha couldn't believe you just did that in front of thousands of people.

‘Damn’ ‘LMAOOO CHRIS GOT REJECTED’ fills the chat. He turns back to the computer, saying bye to the stream and Matt. “Bye, guys! Love you all” he throws up a peace sign, logs off the discord, and turns off his computer.

He spins his chair around to see you under the blankets with your phone in hand. He walks over to you, gets under the covers, and pulls you against his chest. “I missed you baby,” he says through a yawn.

“Chris I was literally two fe-” he cuts you off with shushing noises.

“Shhhh — you're way too far away. Now go to sleep”

a/n — hiii, i hope you guys enjoyed!! this is super short but i hope it succeeded your expectations.

tag list — @sturniolos--girl-deactivated202 @m0r94n @lovesodakid @sweetreliever @emssturniolo @slxtformatt @prettylameusertbh @conspiracy-ash @probablyoutyappingorsomething @sturniolosandmoree @https-roman @hoeforchrizz @hvlplvss @idontcare4urmom @submattenthusiast

[reidsworld]

okay but imagine giving logan the SLOPPIEST, DIRTIEST, NASTIEST head ever and after he’s in like “i’ll literally do anything for you” kind of shock. listen i’m just a girl that needed to say that 🎀😇

MDNI 18+

brooo i actually need him so badddd

he would fs be such a munch but when you wanna give him head, who is he to refuse?

he likes to take control but after a long day of work he just wants to relax and what better way to do that than to lay back and have you on your knees?

and don’t even get me started on the noises he makes!! like we’ve all watched that makeout scene… he may be quite sometimes but never when your on your knees for him. whether it’s his heavy breathing and groans or the sound of you gagging on him, the room is never silent!!

from the minute you take him in your mouth to the moment he finishes, he’s in awe of you…

“look so pretty like this, baby.”

he’ll wipe your tears and tell you “‘m so close, just a little longer.”

if he tries take control, you’ll swat his hands away or hold his hips down— the sound of you mumbling something along the lines of “lemme take care of you” so sweetly while you give him the dirtiest head has him weakkkk

he’ll do anything to make you happy and if that includes laying back while you do the work then so be it.

the sight of your tear stained, spit covered face combined with the sounds of you taking him down your throat have him cumming quicker than anything else ever could.

he’d practically be begging to repay the favour after— “took care of me so good, please just let me take care of you now…”

[httpsserene]

𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐥 | 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐧

summary: alex tries to bribe you into giving him a second chance. you accept the bribe—but, only because it will benefit the seals. definitely not because you want to see him again, or anything.

pairing: alex albon x seal specialist fem!black!reader

from, serene: almost had to split this final part into two! i hope y'all don't mind me hitting that max photo limit loll happy reading, loves xxx

⌕ prev | join taglist | feedback & requests | upcoming chapters | table of contents | seal you later toc ↻

messages • yn -> coral • twitter dm's • alex -> yn

messages • max please unmute us gc -> alex

twitter • alex_albon • messages • yn -> coral

twitter dm's • alex -> yn

messages • • max please unmute us gc -> alex • yn -> coral

twitter

instagram • williamsracing & pacificmmc • october 12th

liked by f1, georgerussell63, seallygirlyn, and 85,734 others

williamsracing alex had a wonderful time on his private tour of the pacific marine mammal center! thanks to yn ln for showing us around and letting us meet some seals and seal pups! you can watch the tour video on our youtube through the link in our bio as well as donating to the pacific marine mammal center to help them conserve our oceans and wildlife!

pacificmmc alex_albon seallygirlyn

view comments

alex_albon: it was incredible to see the important work being done everyday to maintain our oceans firsthand! even better to be able to adopt optimus prime, my seal son <3

➥ charlesleclerc: find an original character trait albono 😡🙄 ➥ user1: f1 has become the most unserious sport in the world. ➥ user2: are you not entertained???

pacificmmc: it was a pleasure to host alex, even though he threatened to kidnap some of our pups ;)

➥ alex_albon: can you blame me? look at their faces! ➥ francolapinto: i am jealous 🥺 ➥ seallygirlyn: silly franco ☺️ only boys who break strangers phones and run away are allowed to do the fun pr events! ➥ francolapinto: 😂😂😂

user4: omg!!! yn and alex met again??!!! watching the video rn

➥ user5: IM SCREAMINGGG ➥ user6: the seal puppies little noises i just wanna take a lil bite ➥ user7: cute agression was on 💯💯💯

user8: alex making more alex noises as he had to feed the seals slimy fish 💀💀💀

➥ seallygirlyn: i almost confused his noises with the pups lol! ➥ user8: omg hiiii! you're literally living my dream! i want to work in marine conservation efforts just like you! ➥ seallygirlyn: visit our website for more on marine science and programs around the world < 3 i still feel like i'm living in a dream every day haha

seallygirlyn: alex was a very attentive guest! and he didn't even break any property :)

➥ alex_albon: please let it go already !!! ➥ alex_albon: what more do you want from meeeeee 🫠😫 ➥ seallygirlyn: my lost seal photos ➥ user9: holding a grudge 🤝🏽 seallygirlyn

messages • alex -> yn

instagram • williamsracing • october 20th • austin ⚑

liked by 43,592 others

williamsracing double points finishes for our boys this weekend! i wonder if it has anything to do with the seally good luck charm alex had on his side of the garage?

view comments

williamsracing: funniest moment this weekend was alex almost missing sprint qualifying because he was too busy talking to seallygirlyn

➥ seallygirlyn: I AM SO SORRY WILLIAMS F1 TEAM 🤧 ➥ coral: PLEASE DON'T BAN US !!! I WOULD LIKE TO ATTEND MANY MORE RACES ➥ francolapinto: yes admin do not be mean coral was very sweet 😇 ➥ coral: hwat? ➥ user10: franco needs to be castrated PLA

alex_albon: i ALMOST missed sprint qualifying—everybody’s freaking out for no reason 🥱

➥ alex_albon: also can you blame me? she was talking to me about jellyfish and i lost track of time ➥ seallygirlyn: this is the 2nd most embarrassing day of my life😖😭😭😭 ➥ user11: what's the first? ➥ seallygirlyn: when alex told the entire internet i cried when my phone broke ➥ user12: valid 😪

user13: she's a disrespectful guest and didn't respect the team's or alex's time the entire weekend. she should not be allowed to return.

➥ alex_albon: when? ➥ user13: when what? ➥ alex_albon: when did anybody ask for your opinion 🤨

messages • alex -> yn

twitter

igstory • alex_albon just uploaded!

[caption1; the only thing i cheat on is a diet plan][caption2; pretty views in santa monica]

replies limited

seallygirlyn: it was such a beautiful view! alex_albon: beautiful girl too 😏 seallygirlyn: smooth 😅

logansargeant: dude "pretty views" was the best you could come up with alex_albon: what's wrong with that???? logansargeant: i forget how old you are sometimes

twitter • postseason

instagram • seallygirlyn • january 23rd

liked by 32,973 others

seallygirlyn after review from the board (five water pups) he's awarded my seal of approval x alex_albon

comments on this post have been limited.

alex_albon: the amount of fish i had to feed them to get this distinction was frightening 😰

seallygirlyn: should've watched where you were running the first time we met < 3 alex_albon: but if i never ran into you, would we have ended up here?

instagram • alex_albon • january 23rd

liked by 1,592,368 others

alex_albon sealed it with a kiss x

view comments

seallygirlyn: love you seally boy 🥰

➥ alex_albon: love you more seally girl 🧜🏾‍♀️

georgerussell63: i always believed in you mate 💪🏼

-alex_albon: i vividly recall you bullying me everyday until i asked her out ➥ georgerussell63: how does that contradict the statement i made 🧐🧐🧐

user14: where's the two barbie dogs dancing gif when you need it? so happy for you both!!!!

user15: the other formula one drivers do not need to use this relationship announcement as a guide. please do a soft launch or you risk being responsible for my heart failing.

➥ alex_albon: does nobody remember the posts on my story like three months ago 😔 ➥ user16: TWO PHOTOS on a STORY from THREE MONTHS ago is not a soft launch YOU ASSHOLE 🤬 ➥ seallygirlyn: i did tell him that we should've had a proper sl :/

logansargeant: now when do i get to meet her 😈

➥ alex_albon: never 🫡 ➥ seallygirlyn: next time your in cali! we named a pup after you at the center :))) ➥ logansargeant: alex if you screw up this relationship i will never forgive you

maxverstappen1: i hate puns 😾

➥ landonorris: man just sealabrate this good time with us mate ➥ maxverstappen1: i'm going to flip out ➥ oscarpiastri: i hope you know that was also a pun 😂

general taglist (ask to join):

@saintslewis/@cherry2stems/@lorarri/@mindless-rock/@biancathecool

@barnestatic/@darleneslane/@lovingaphroditesworld/@smoothopz/@vetteltea

@tallrock35/@spideybv28/@loomiscorpse/@hiireadstuff/@namgification

@gg-trini/@multi-fandom-rando/@landoslutmeout/@love-simon/@iloveyou3000morgan/

@rexit-mo/@oscahpastry/@sweatrevenge5436-blog/@bokutos-babyowl/@oliviah-25

@evermoreandroyalblue/@riveristhebest1/@xylinasdiary/@ashiekins/@flowergirl1134

@hearts4robs/@c-losur3/@bloodyymaryyy/@awritingtree/@lammys-thinking

@nikfigueiredo/@bbreezyxoxo

seal you later taglist (closed):

@poppysrin @everythingabby101 @mangotaitai/@sumlovesjude/@nichmeddar

@panicforspec @formulaal @tellybearryyyy @greywritesthings @daddyslittlevillain

© httpsserene 2024 — photos used from pinterest. do not re-upload.

[lovepeachh]

Chair.

Jason Todd x plus size! reader smut

In which Jason is the chair.

or

In which you aren't too heavy to sit on your bf's face after all.

Warnings: 18+ content, unprotected oral sex, cunnilingus, face sitting, use of the word fat (internal dialogue, not in a negative way, it's just that I, as a plus size woman, use that word and if that upsets you I get it, don't read but i refuse to let this be another 'you're not fat, you're beautiful, let me dick you down to show you that you're not fat and ugly' fic, because fat and beautiful are not exclusive terms. I love you, and I love how you look. You're beautiful, and it's not in spite of your body.)

Dividers from here

A.N.: Sorry for not writing recently, things have been a little wild. I had a concussion, a tropical storm came, both my sisters totalled their cars, got my wisdom teeth out, and now another hurricane is on the way. Anyway, here's some smut.

"Babe, there's no way I'm doing that, I'll hurt you. I'm too heavy." It wasn't that you were self conscious of your weight or anything, but you didn't exactly want Jason to die again, this time because of you and your fat girl pussy.

He raises an eyebrow at you, as if to say 'So you think I'm weak?'

"Baby, don't give me that, I'm a big boy."

"Well I'm a big girl and I'm not gonna suffocate you or break your neck."

"I mean, it's a lot better than how I went out the first time."

A silence.

"Not funny."

He sits you on his lap.

"Come on sweetie, we can just try it. And I'll tap your thigh three times if I need air or for you to get up for any reason. Scout's honor."

You roll your eyes. "You were never a scout."

"Eh, I was a robin. Close enough. Please?"

"Ugh fine. I'll sit on your face. Happy?"

It's a matter of minutes before he rips off your clothes and pulls you right on top of his face, eating you out like a starving man at a Thanksgiving buffet.

Goddamn. He was good at this.

He hooks his arms around your thighs and holds you in place while he laps at you until you writhe and squirm.

"Jay!"

You're not quite sure if the sound leaving his mouth is a laugh or a moan, but the vibration has.you seeing stars.

He laps and sucks at you as you near the edge.

"Ah-!"

All thoughts of being too heavy leave your mind. Because this man wants it bad. And he's tongue fucking you too good for you to think straight.

Your hips buck as he licks into you over and and over until you're coming all over his desperate face.

He laps up your release and keeps stimulating your abused cunt until you start to tremble. Then he releases you.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and presses a sticky kiss to your cheek.

"Still think you're too heavy?" he asks.

"Not for you." .

He laughs. "So we can do this again?"

You roll your eyes. "You're such a whore."

He kisses you. "Only for you, sweetheart."

You won't be doubting him again anytime soon. After all, what's a bit of fat when your boyfriend is built like a literal tank.

You shift in his arms, feeling something against your leg.

Oh.

"Care to help me out with that, sweetheart?"

[hanniebaeee]

Don't be shy

Hyunjin x shy fem!reader

Warnings: Kissing

Genre: Fluff, established relationship

Summary: You desperately need a bathroom break during a road trip with your boyfriend, Hyunjin. But you're in the middle of nowhere. Hyunjin wants to help, but he's such a tease!

You glance out the window, your eyes taking in the scenery - the empty stretch of road and the towering trees on both sides, and the beautiful sunset casting an orange glow over everything. Normally, this is everything you'd be gushing over. You love forests and sunsets and road trips. But right now, your mind is far from admiring anything.

Your boyfriend, Hyunjin, is focused on the road, whistling casually as he drove. You are quite a new couple. You've known Hyunjin for a while, you two were friends before you started dating a couple of months ago. So yeah, brand new.

You shift in your seat for what feels like the hundredth time in the past hour, trying to ignore the growing discomfort in your bladder. You and Hyunjin have been driving for a while, and there hasn’t been a rest stop in sight for miles. You desperately need to pee and are on the verge of bursting. And the last thing you want is to admit this to him.

It's silly really. Everyone pees. Obviously. But you're still so ridiculously shy around Hyunjin, and what's he going to do when there's nothing around? You're literally in the middle of nowhere.

Hyunjin, however, is far too sharp to miss your constant fidgeting.

"Why do you keep squirming like that?" He asks, his voice curious as his eyes flicks over to you before returning to the road.

You flush as you stutter and try to act normal. You turn your head to look out the window, desperately trying to think of an excuse.

"It’s nothing," you mumble, hoping he’ll let it go.

But of course, this is Hyunjin. He doesn't let anything go just like that. You can just feel his eyes on you.

"Nothing? Babe, you’ve been moving around like that for the past thirty minutes."

You bite your lip, feeling embarrassed. Of all the things you didn’t want to bring up on your first ever road trip with your new, incredibly beautiful boyfriend, this is definitely at the top of the list.

And when Hyunjin is on a mission, he doesn't give up at any cost. He leans closer, a smirk slowly spreading across his lips as he looks at you.

"You look like you’re hiding something," he teases, his voice low. "Wanna tell me what it is?"

Your cheeks burn, and you quickly shake your head, trying to laugh it off.

"Hyunjin, stop," you mutter.

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow, that smirk growing wider as he looks at you.

"Really?" His purs. "Liar."

He casually places a hand on your thigh. Bad move.

"Come on baby, tell me."

His fingers graze your skin lightly, and you squirm even more, partly from the pressure in your bladder and partly from his sudden touch.

You bite your poor bottom lip again, harder and clench your fists in your lap.

"I-I really need to pee," you admit in a small voice.

Hyunjin’s reaction is exactly what you thought it would be. He laughs, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze.

"You’ve been holding it in this whole time?" he asks, clearly surprised.

"Stop laughing!" you whine, pouting at him. "It’s not funny!"

"It is kinda funny," Hyunjin says, giving you a smug smirk. "Baby, why didn’t you say anything?"

"There’s nowhere to stop, Hyunjinne! What was I supposed to do?"

Hyunjin glances out at the empty stretch of road, the dense forest on either side, and then back at you with a glint in his eye that immediately makes you nervous.

You raise an eyebrow at him.

"What?" You ask warily.

Without another word, Hyunjin smoothly pulls the car over to the side of the road. He puts the car in park, turning to you fully, his smirk now downright devilish.

"Guess you’re gonna have to go in the woods," he says simply, his eyes gleaming.

Your jaw drops, and you stare at him in disbelief.

"Are you serious?" You manage, glancing at the darkness within the cluster of tall trees.

He tilts his head and leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

"What, too shy to go pee in the forest?" he asks, his voice low and husky. "Or do you need me to come with you and hold your hand?"

"Hyunjin! Not funny!" You say, shoving him away and it has him falling back, laughing.

He presses a quick kiss to your forehead.

"Just messing with you, babe," he says. "But seriously, if you gotta go, just go. It’s not a big deal."

You cross your arms over your chest, feeling both flustered and frustrated.

"Is that even allowed? What if someone comes by?" You ask nervously.

He smirks again, and whispers, "We’re in the middle of nowhere. No one’s coming, baby. It’s just you and me."

You stare at him, gulping.

"Besides, people do it all the time. What do you think hikers and campers do?" He says with a shrug.

You huff, knowing that you don’t really have a choice.

"Fine," you mutter, opening the door slowly.

Hyunjin steps out too, leaning against the car, arms folded against his chest. You take a few steps towards the woods and turn back to say, "No peeking."

Hyunjin gives you a wicked smile, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"Wouldn’t dream of it," he chuckles, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

He's enjoying this way too much.

With one last look at him, you make your way into the trees, feeling his eyes on you the whole time. You turn around one last time, unable to resist.

"Close your ears, too!"

Hyunjin bursts out laughing, his voice echoing through the trees.

"Close my ears?" he repeats, still chuckling. "Are you serious?"

You give him a glare, and say,"Yes!"

He grins, then dramatically slaps his hands over his ears.

"Alright, ears closed! Go do your thing."

Rolling your eyes, you disappear into the trees, heart pounding. You do your business quickly and when you return to the car, cheeks flushed, Hyunjin is watching you like you're the most interesting thing in the world.

You slide into your seat quietly and rub some sanitizer on your hands. And pull on your seat belt. All while he watches with a smirk on his face.

"Feel better?" he asks.

You avoid his gaze.

"Shut up," you mumble, though you can’t stop the little smile on your lips.

"You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed, you know that?" His words send a shiver down your spine.

"Stop!!" You say, shaking your head.

And then he does something that catches you completely off guard. His lips find your neck, pressing a lingering kiss just below your ear. You gasp, as his lips trail lightly along your neck, his breath hot against your neck.

“Jinnie…” you whisper.

His hand slides up your thigh, his fingers curling gently around your waist as he kisses you, his lips moving so slow and sensually with yours.

He pulls back just enough to gaze at you and you give him a questioning look.

“What?” he asks, his voice, teasing. “Just couldn’t help myself.”

He leans back, his hand resting on your thigh again.

"Next time, don’t be so shy," he says, his voice still flirty. "I don’t mind stopping whenever you need me to."

"I’ll keep that in mind." You say with a smile, and your cheeks are a cute pink which he just loves.

With a sweet smile, Hyunjin starts the car again. And as the road stretches out before you once more, you feel a lot more comfortable, and maybe a little less shy.

[sun-e-chips]

Wait…

Do the boys fluster easy? Like if y/n ever grew a backbone and said literally anything-

Like the smallest thing or like, taped a flower to suns rays or moons headdress (does it have a specific name please tell me if it does) how would the boys react?

I get a break because of the storm so I’m digging into my inbox! >:D

Great question! I would say yes to the boys flustering easy but they fluster differently if that makes sense.

Moon: Moon I would say flusters the easiest. Though he handles “flirts” from guests with ease, (giving a witty/charming one-liner to keep it professional and lighthearted) he knows it’s part of the job and nothing is serious, but if y/n did or said anything flirtatious to Moon he would freeze up XD

With guests this usually happens during luau’s between when he’s performing or working the bar. Moon realizes guests are just enjoying themselves and mean nothing inappropriate when they’re having fun with flirtatious banter, it’s part of his job to be engaging and pleasant so he doesn’t really mind. That’s why y/n showing any affectionate interest in him would come as such a shock, he never thought about someone being genuinely interested in him that way. Poor guy needs some time to adjust.

Sun: Now Sun is an oddball to me, I’m still trying to understand him and his emotions myself haha. Sun REALLY blurs the lines between platonic and romantic affection, he is in general a very loving guy. With guests personal space is a foreign concept to him, of course he is still very professional and can judge an appropriate situation/person, but he just has a talent for being able to connect with guests so their comfortable with his playful antics. With Y/N however his actions areeeeee a mixed bag I guess, (think of it like a magic fruit basket, Sun is giving you a variety of fruits in one package, if you choose to only take out oranges then it’s an orange basket, if you want to take out apples and oranges then it’s an apple and oranges basket, pick out whichever you like it’s all there but you don’t have to accept anything you don’t like, he’s letting you decide what you want your basket to be made up of) weird analogy I know but it’s what I thought of

Anywhoo for Sun to catch on that an act is flirtatious it has to be clear or at least catch him off guard! Little note here, Suns pupils disappear when he’s flustered from y/n. It’s a lil scary at first, in the illustrated instance this is the first time of this happening and it may be mistaken as Sun freezing but he was very much there and would have returned the gesture if not for the pool noodle -whack- lol

[ryescapades]

❝ [ kiss the bride! ] ╰┈➤ of the same thread (kaiju no. 8)

characters: narumi gen x lil sister!reader + hoshina soshiro cw: fluff, crack, hint of sexy times but nothing detailed a/n: silly brainrot time for my otst series >:) can be read as a standalone! <700 wc | mini series masterlist

imagine your and hoshina's wedding ceremony where narumi severely insists that he becomes the marriage officiant for you two. no priest or government official whatsoever. him, your older brother.

and as the time comes when narumi has to give his speech, he'd drone on and on about 'how big of a responsibility it is to be one's equal, how hard it is to juggle both work and personal life, how important it is not let your spouse struggle on their own' and whatnot.

and then he'd end his speech with something along the lines of "any objections towards this... wonderful union?"

lines upon lines of family and friends gathering, not a single person in the beautifully decorated hall says a word. because all of them support you and hoshina. except one, it seems.

narumi proceeds to wait for a response.

there might've been a crow flying by, perhaps.

with your hair perfectly done, face prettily dolled up and body gorgeously draped in your customized wedding dress, you shift uncomfortably on your heeled feet as you realize what the long pause is for.

gods, you're this close to strangling the loving heck out of your brother.

your husband-to-be sighs with a deprecating smile on his face, clad in his suit and looking as charming as ever (you had almost lunged to grab at his neatly straightened tie when you first stepped into the hall, to run your hair through his soft violet strands, to mess up his gracefulness and make him look as utterly ruined as he was a few nights ago... fuck, now you're irritated and horny).

"you're stallin'," hoshina finally points out your brother's obvious attempt at halting the ceremony. narumi raises an eyebrow, "no, i'm not. i'm just asking for opinions from everyone. it's good etiquette to include others too, you know?" he nonchalantly says.

that's bullshit, of course. if anything, hoshina soshiro is more versed in etiquette than narumi has ever been in his entire life.

"literally no one is sayin' anything right now," the swordsman deadpans, causing your brother to shrug. "maybe they just need more time. this is a serious matter, after all. need to think it over and all. what do you know about time, huh? hastily proposing to my sister in a goddamn hospital room after she just recovered. tch, so unethical."

"as if you bein' the officiant is not a derogatory towards ethics and tradition itself." narumi snaps at that, the faint pinkish tints that dust his cheeks reflecting his embarrassment, "what did you just say?!"

unaware of how loud his inner voice can get, kafka speaks up, "what are they arguing about? i thought they're gonna kiss already?" he asks reno as they stand side by side at the rows of seats below the altar.

the three of you freeze, reno's eyes dart around uneasily and kikoru visibly hides her face in her hands, internally groaning at the whole situation from somewhere in the distance.

hoshina turns to the older man. "kafka, ever given a marriage officiant speech before? i got a new job for ya," he says. narumi jolts beside him, stunned. "oi, what are you trying to do?!" he sneers just as the crowd starts to chatter in hushed whispers.

trailing his eyes up and down, then up and down narumi's figure again patronizingly before hoshina says, "dischargin' you from your current position, of course. what else?"

"excuse me? who gave you the right to do that?!"

"i'm the groom here. i can do whatever i want at my wedding, captain narumi."

the crowd becomes rowdier, and you grit your teeth, cursing in annoyance when the two dick-measuring males don't seem like they're gonna stop anytime soon.

you just wanted to get married in peace and this is what you have to deal with? such blasphemy!

and thus you finally snap, loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear, "for fuck's sake - may the groom fucking kiss the bride!" you insert yourself between your brother and your now husband, pulling hoshina into a ferocious kiss that he scrambles to reciprocate. narumi and all the other attendees gasp scandalously, which you don't pay any attention to, too busy trying to get yourself officially married.

all's well that ends well, you suppose.

taglist: @maruflix @pixelcafe-network @iamjellyfish @ouiouimochi @yueliie @justwinginglife @lumiambrose @minasfwoopyponytail @17020 @bgyuus @moon-cakiie

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[periprose]

Can I have a Logan Howlett x Angel!Fem!Reader where Logan sees the reader in the kitchen having a bit of a meltdown and uncomfortable feeling over holding a knife (for like, cooking reasons or smth) and he calms her down because the reader just doesn’t want to hurt anyone :(? I’d appreciate it thanks! (I’ve seen you wanted more Angel reader, so im here to reciprocate :3)

AHhhh this fits so well Anon (maybe unintentionally so, the previous fic had a little snippet about Angel's mom trying to stab her when she was young...) but I love your brain. I made it a bit longer and added some stuff and it's set before the previous Logan Gains a Guardian Angel fic (LGGA for short) so they're not together yet.

Knives Drip Chocolate (or, Logan Gains a Guardian Angel)

Word Count: 2.9k

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt with comfort, mutual pining, idiots in love, mild traumatic flashback stuff (but no violence)

LGGA Masterlist

Logan is always ready for a late-night snack.

It’s hard for him to feel full, a lot of the time– he didn’t always have the easiest access to food, and he’s known for a while, if there’s a brief period in his immortal-like life where he can just relax about food and supplies, he shouldn’t take that for granted. 

Plus with an accelerated healing factor, sometimes his body starts digesting food too quickly, leading to faster body repair, but nothing to feel satisfied about.

So he’s got tons of cravings. Something that you are constantly bothered about, even now, as Logan knocks on your door, asking yet again if you’d accompany him to the kitchen.

Not that you actually mind. Sometimes you think you’d follow Logan into hell if he asked nicely enough, despite your occasionally evasive attitude keeping him on his toes.

“Angel, please. I’m starving.” Logan’s grumpy complaints are muffled behind your door, and you wonder why a nearly 200 year old man needs you so badly, to be by his side, when he’s spent so long being a loner.

“I’m coming.” You yawn, pulling yourself out of your bed– Storm is your roommate, and she’s passed out, stone cold. You quickly finger comb your hair, and fix your giant t-shirt, so your shoulder isn’t so exposed.

Silly, because you know Logan doesn’t care.

It’s bad. It’s really, really bad, because you don’t want to get attached to Logan, not when he’s sure to toss you aside like he’s done with the rest of them eventually. But you can’t help yourself– Logan is easy to be around, he knows your fears and little quirks, and he has never treated you like you’re so different for being a little quiet, like him. 

You know everyone has noticed. When you open your bedroom door, and Logan stares at you for a moment– an unreadable, soft glance in his eyes, one that you could choose to ignore, but don’t, as you stare back at him– you know all the other X-Men see it. Some silly crush you have on him, that clearly confuses Logan himself as he shakes his head, and pulls you by the arm out of your room, your PJs and hair askew.

Logan himself looks good, you have to admit– wearing lazy sweatpants and a white tank-top, his arm muscles looking especially defined tonight– and you pull your arm away, embarrassed that you give into these feelings so easily.

He’s only ever going to be your best friend. Even now, there’s nothing romantic about the way Logan asks if you want a ham and cheddar sandwich, too. He’s just looking out for you. 

Jean, Scott, and Storm have literally asked you, more than once, if you and Logan had maybe slept together, or kissed, or anything that would be a culmination of some supposed lust, in which case you always laugh awkwardly and deny everything. 

Your excuse is that it’s deeper than that, and it’s one-sided. What would be the point of bringing it up if it would just end in heartbreak?

“Earth to Angel.” Logan shakes your arm, breaking your stride. “Hey, that’s kind of funny, isn’t it? You’re always up in Heaven. Daydreaming about who the hell knows what.”

“Haha, Logan.” You mockingly say in a deadpan voice. “What is it?”

“Your wings are flexing a little bit, again, like they’re about to open. They’re kind of pulsing.” He says it in a soft tone, ushering in some concern he has, and you find yourself wishing that you were someone normal, someone that Logan didn’t have to care so much about. 

It’s not that you’re not happy to have his concern, it’s just that you don’t know what to do with it. Thank him for it? You have never been used to people looking out for you.

“It’s fine. Sometimes I get muscle spasms, it’s nothing to worry about.” You mutter, knowing it has to do with anxiety, but Logan looks a bit unconvinced.

“Okay. But if you keep having weird tremors, I’m taking you to the hospital wing so you can get diagnosed.” Logan states, and you open your mouth to argue, but he tuts. “No arguing about this. Last thing we need is for you to die from stress or cancer or something.”

Your heartbeat quickens, not at the mention of cancer, but because Logan used we and now you’re just thinking about how you’re always together.

Not like that, though.

“Okay, Logan. I get it.” You shake your head. “I won’t die.” 

“Not yet. We got snacks to eat.” Logan agrees, as he leads you into the kitchen.

/

Logan’s got you working on making hot chocolate as he makes the sandwiches, pan-frying them till the cheese is hot and melty. 

It’s not really a common mix, you think, but you’re just happy to be helping.

“Careful. Milk boils over fast.” Logan comments from next to you, mostly focused on his own side of the stove, and you roll your eyes.

“I know that.” You retort, but as you look away from the stove for one second, the pot of milk nearly does boil over, and you swear, reducing the heat quickly.

Logan starts laughing. “Told you.”

You shove him lightly, and he has a stupid grin on his face, one where you know Logan takes such joy in teasing you at times. Like this is one of the greatest pleasures in life.

You move the milk over to the counter, to let it cool, and then remember something semi-important. 

“Logan? Don’t forget, Scott wanted extra ham for the Hawaiian pizza they’re making tomorrow–” As you’re reminding him, Logan wordlessly shows you the empty ham package, telling you that he used all of it for the sandwiches.

“You snooze, you lose.” Logan shrugs, and you close your eyes in partial defeat, trying not to laugh at his antics.

“I guess, but you never seem to lose, and Scott’s always chewing me out for your ‘mistakes.’” You point at yourself, tongue poking through the side of your mouth, and Logan raises his eyebrows. “Tell me: Am I snoozing, or are you just lucky that I take the blame?”

“Ah, Angel… you’re obviously asleep.” Logan smirks, and you scoff at his audacity, having expected a semi-apology from him. “No one ever said you had to take the blame for my snacks. You could’ve just told him it was Jean, and he wouldn’t have asked any questions.”

You blink at him. “Lying to our team’s leader aside, why Jean?”

“C’mon. Scott’s crazy over her, they’ve been together for however long, and he can never say no to her. It’s the perfect excuse– he wouldn’t even ask her about missing food, so not to offend his sweetheart.” Logan pauses, a thoughtful look taking over his features, and he scratches his chin. “I guess love really is blind.”

“Wow. You had that takeaway based on gaslighting both Scott and Jean? You really are an unfeeling old man.” You giggle, and Logan glances over at you, his face heating up at your laugh, a sweet sound that always pushes a warmth into his chest.

If Logan was honest, he understands Scott perfectly. Sure, he could play the part of the curmudgeonly old man, and lie to you– but in truth, he was doing that because he likes you.

Just like Scott. Logan likes you so much, that he would honestly lie to you just to protect your relationship– whether that be about missing food, or if you talk about some other dude someday, and he has to pretend he’s all ecstatic for you, as he often worries about. 

He knows it’s bad. And he doesn’t like it, either. Logan insists to himself, in pure self denial, that this love he has for you doesn’t exist, because he would rather be given even a little bit of your presence as a friend, than to be entirely shut out by you upon imminent rejection.

But even he knows he protests too much. Of course he loves you, how could he not?

Logan thinks of you as his personal guardian Angel. It’s silly, of course– but you’re the one who helps him make better choices, doing the right thing more often than not. He’s an idiot– you’re a beautiful genius of a woman, and it bothers him so deeply that you keep to yourself.

He looks over at you. You’re chopping up a bar of dark chocolate, and your gaze is intensely focused– Logan has seen the same expression on you when you’re beating up a bad guy. You’re thinking, murmuring something to yourself, probably thinking about hot chocolate.

Your eyes turn wide, glassy, and you inhale sharply.

Logan immediately comes to your side. “Angel?”

Logan’s voice doesn’t fully register to you.

The knife gleams in the low lighting of the kitchen, as you turn it over and over in your hand, dark brown chocolate smudging the blade, and then you look down to your palms.

Where your hands are covered in dark, melted chocolate, after you’ve been holding the chocolate bar to chop it up– the liquid is almost amber in hue. 

“...blood.” You whisper something unintelligible, but Logan catches the last word.

You retch to yourself, hyperventilating over the counter, back hunched over, the knife still clenched in your palm.

“Angel, hey–” Logan squeezes his way between the counter and your right arm, where your hand is holding the knife, and he firmly pulls it away from you, grabbing it blade-first without even thinking about it, and you gasp, shouting at him to get away.

Logan stops, at a loss for words. You’re trembling, you’re no longer holding the knife, but you can’t stop looking at your hands.

He grabs your arms a bit more gently, turning you towards him, and you’re lost in some train of thought that Logan can’t stop.

Mom sliced up one of my hands once… it’s been years, but it looked just like this.

Then I got her back, by accident… it was an accident, Angel.

“What’s wrong?” Logan looks down at you in fear, worry that something may actually be very wrong, and you haven’t told him a thing.

He thinks he shouldn’t have assumed you were always alright. He knows you aren’t– he just finds it difficult to surpass your avoidant attitude. He’s never seen you have a full blown panic attack like this before.

Your wings are subtly twitching again, folded against your back, but threatening to open up to full expanse, and you shake your head, lip quivering, as you look down at the floor.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” You utter so softly, so heartbreakingly tiny, and Logan feels himself turning cold at your words, wondering if you’d really done something that terrible.

With a kitchen knife, of all things. He wants to hug you firmly now.

He knows even if it was true– there’s no way that was your fault, no way Logan wouldn’t have sussed that out based on instinct. 

“It isn’t…” Logan starts, wanting to say it wasn’t your fault, but he doesn’t know how that will go over with you. “You’re not going to hurt anyone. Where is that coming from?”

“Just a bad memory.” You say with a shaky breath, the most information you’re willing to give him at this moment, and you know– you know– Logan is never going to be satisfied with that answer.

You don’t want to scare him off. This is the first time you could even say you have a best friend, and you don’t want Logan to pity you or feel like you were incapable of taking care of yourself. You don’t want him to see you like your mother did.

Logan frowns. Then, instead of asking you a question, he traces the back of your wings, which causes a shiver in your body.

You close your eyes, expecting to feel tense, scared, and horrified, but instead you feel calm, almost placid. Being touched by Logan makes you feel like everything is going to be alright.

Your wings stop shaking, and Logan hands you a wet paper towel. You wipe your chocolatey hands, which puts you at ease, seeing your clean hands again. 

“Sorry. I don’t mean to make you my caretaker.” You whisper, always worried about others’ perception of you, and Logan shakes his head.

“I don’t mind, Angel. As long as you’re alright.” Logan has a tentative look on his face, and you’re almost embarrassed, that you like being taken care of so badly, and he hugs you tightly, arms wrapped around your back, a near bone crushing hug that has you nestled in his chest, fit under his jaw as he places his head on top of yours.

Your heartbeat slows down. You’re not panicking any more, but it seems like Logan, too, is reaping some sort of benefit by being so close to you. He inhales deeply, and the sigh rumbles through his chest into you.

You could almost cry. You spent so much of your childhood never being close to anyone, and being held is cathartic in a way you can’t even describe.

Logan doesn’t let go until you do. Then he has the audacity to look a little sheepish, like he had done something un-Logan and uncool, and you almost feel pained, like you should push him away, and go to sleep on your own.

It’s such an odd feeling, to both want his concern, and to wish you never needed to do so.

You stare up at him, and Logan smiles, a soft smile that he hopes reads as comforting rather than a snarl, and you can’t help yourself for what you ask next.

“Could I sleep in your room?” You ask, biting back the immediate disclaimers of it’s okay if you don’t want to. “I’m just better when I’m around you.”

There’s also the thing of waking up Storm if you enter back in now, and explaining that you had yet another panic attack. She’ll be mad.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay.” Logan murmurs, wondering if you meant to make that sound so devotedly sweet, something that causes his insides to seize a little.

He feels better around you, too.

You’re usually good at hiding this side of yourself from him– it’s another step deeper, another step too far into your relationship to take back– and now you worry you’ll never really be able to separate.

Logan ruffles your hair, and all is right again.

/

He makes you eat at least a bite of the sandwich, and sip a little hot chocolate– the rest is placed in the fridge for some other mutant to eat.

Logan won’t let you go to sleep without a meal, or in this case a few nibbles, if he can help it.

“Moods are worse on an empty stomach.” Logan grins, and you smile, feeling a little more at ease.

“You’re not you when you’re hungry.” You joke, and Logan rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, save that for when we’re pilfering Kurt’s Snickers bars.” He snorts. 

Logan leads you to his room, oddly silent the entire time. It’s not that Logan isn’t typically quiet, it’s that it feels more tense. He’s keeping to himself, and he doesn’t seem to have anything against you– he has only a kind expression for you, when you meet his eyes.

Finally, you both arrive to his bedroom door. Logan is lucky– he doesn’t have to room with anyone– and you’ve been in here plenty of times.

Still, that doesn’t explain why it takes him a second to enter in the room, as you follow him in.

It’s sparsely decorated in here– one poster of the Calgary Flames is on Logan’s wall, and there’s a mug with random, assorted pens on his desk. His bed has never been filled with loads of stuffed animals and pillows like other X-Men (read: Jubilee) would have. There’s a pile of assorted flannels, jackets, and scarves hanging off a coat rack.

It’s comforting, though. Logan is a simple man, and you like being close enough to understand him, to see the small remnants of things he likes.

“Well. The bed’s there, if you’d like. Don’t let me stop you.” Logan points to the bed, and he starts walking towards the leather recliner next to the window.

“Logan. Stop.” You grab him by the arm, and he pauses, slightly scared, mostly enthused by what you’ll say next. “It’s okay with me if we sleep next to each other.”

“...Okay.” Logan watches as you climb into his bed, hoping it’s comfortable, and doing a weird thing of personally memorizing the way you lay and snuggle down, in case you never do this again.

You’re next to the wall, so Logan stays on his side, lying down close to the edge of the bed. And you’re keeping your distance– so is he.

You turn, and Logan is already looking at you. He glances away.

“Good night, Angel.” Logan utters softly, and with that, you turn to your side, to fall asleep.

/

When Logan wakes up, he freezes, so not to move you. Somehow, through out the night, you ended up snuggled around him, sprawled against his chest, your arms lightly wrapping around him.

He loves it. He’s glad to see he’s been useful for once– he gave you a good night’s sleep.

[blueteller]

Do you know how smart Cale actually is? Like- what extent his intelligence can reach?

That's an interesting question! Let's take a look.

From what I know of IQ scores, anything above 120 puts you in top 10% of the population. So I easily see Kim Rok Soo!Cale belonging in that category; of >120 IQ. However, IQ had always felt a little vague to me. It's nice to have a number to put on a scale and all, but what does it actually mean in reality? Let's try this from a different angle.

Gardner's Multiple Intelligences model of divides talent into eight categories, plus one additional one:

Visual-spatial

Linguistic-verbal

Logical-mathematical

Body-kinesthetic

Musical

Interpersonal

Intrapersonal

Naturalistic

Existential

Why not try to measure him up against each one, as no person is actually intelligent in every way and not even a fictional character can excel in all of them (unless they're a Mary Sue or something lol).

Visual and spatial judgment stands for easy reading, writing, puzzles solving, recognizing patterns and analyzing charts well. I think Cale is definitely a pro in this category; he does loves reading and he's fantastic at analyzing data.

Linguistic-verbal is for remember written and spoken information, debates, giving persuasive speeches, ability to explain things and skilled at verbal humor. And while I constantly make fun of Cale for not being able to explain himself, he IS good at using the "glib tongue" and being persuasive, so I think he is very skilled in this category as well.

Logical-mathematical means having excellent problem-solving skills, the ability to come up with abstract ideas and conduct scientific experiments, as well as computing complex issues. Cale is an incredible strategist able to change his plans in an instant, so he is definitely a genius in this field.

Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence is a fun one, because I think it's the hardest one to judge, considering that he literally changed bodies. It of course stands for sports, dancing, craftmanship, physical coordination, and remembering better by practice rather than learning theory. Cale... does not like that. However, it doesn't mean he's BAD at it. If he was a genius in this field, however, I believe he would like it a bit more. Thus – I suspect he was average. In the past he was forced to exercise for the sake of survival, but once he was given the option of taking it easy, he quit instantly. He is capable, but does not have any particular predisposition for it.

Musical Intelligence drives me nuts, because we literally do not know, and I dearly wish I did. There was not a single mention of it in the whole series. As much as I want to believe in a cool headcanon of KRS being an unrealized musical genius... I think he was probably average or below average in this.

Interpersonal Intelligence stands for communication, conflict-solving, perception and the ability to forge connections with others. And while you might have some doubts about Cale, I say he IS a total pro in this. Those are all leadership skills, and Cale is one HELL of a great leader.

However...

Intrapersonal Intelligence is where Cale is severely lacking. It could be partially due to trauma, but I think at least some of it comes through his natural personality. It stands for introspection, self-reflection, the ability to understand one's motivation and general self-awareness; and that is Cale's biggest weakness, one that might actually cost him his slacker life dream in the end, due to all the misunderstandings he causes.

The last two, Naturalistic and Existential Intelligence types, are also not really Cale's forte. The first is for things like botany, biology, and zoology, paired with enjoyment of camping and hiking – none of which Cale actually does for pleasure, only because he has to. And yeah, farming is in that category too, but it's not like Cale is actually a real farmer just yet. And the second is for stuff like philosophy, considering how current actions influence future outcomes, the ability to see situations from an outside perspective and reflections into the meaning of life and death – and Cale is REALLY not interested in this type of self reflection.

Which leaves Cale with 4 types of intelligence he excels at, 2 which he is REALLY BAD at, 1 where he's below average and 1 he's probably average, with 1 left completely unknown.

Does this make Cale a genius? Pretty much, yes. Does it also make him stupid in very specific ways? VERY MUCH, YES.

[sykoangels]

Hate fuck Logan?! You finally cave in one night and you both settle things in bed but you’re like a massive brat😎 you have to deal with evryone teasing and making comments while Logan’s or smug

hi anon!! I believe in brat tamer Logan supremacy!!! This also gives mean Logan vibes as well! I’m literally living for it!

content warnings: dubcon and angry sex

The dimly lit hallway of the X-Mansion was a stark contrast to the blazing fury that burned between Logan and you. The mission had been a disaster and the tension that had simmered beneath the surface for months now boiled over into outright hostility. You could feel his eyes boring into your back as you stalked ahead, your fingers twitching with the urge to flip him off. "Damn it, Y/N, would you slow down?" Logan growled, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence like a knife. "You're acting like a spoiled brat who didn't get their way." You whirled around, your eyes narrowing in defiance. "Oh, shut it, Logan! You think I don't know how much you love playing the diva? Always demanding everyone cater to your precious needs like a goddamn servant

Logan's jaw tightened, and his fists clenched at his sides. "I don't need this shit from you, kid. You've been nothing but trouble since you got here." "Kid?" you spat, taking a menacing step towards him. "You think you're so tough, don't you? Well, let me tell you something, motherfucker—you're just a jaded old man who can't handle anyone calling you out on your bullshit." Logan's eyes darkened, and he closed the distance between you in three long strides. His breath was hot against your face, his scent intoxicatingly potent. "Maybe you need to be reminded of your place," he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. You smirked then let out a giggle, tilting your chin up in challenge. "Oh, please, Logan. If you think you can scare me with your threats, you're more delusional than I thought."

"Is that what you want, bub?" he hissed, his grip tight but not enough to truly hurt. "For someone to put you in your place?" Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through your veins. You glared up at him, defiance still burning in your eyes. "Go ahead, then. Show me how tough you really are." Logan's gaze flicked down to your lips, and the corner of his mouth curled into a cruel smile. "Oh, I will," he promised, his voice dripping with menace. "But you might not like it." Before you could respond, his mouth crashed down onto yours in a bruising kiss. It was anything but tender—his lips were rough, demanding, and his teeth scraped painfully against your bottom lip. You gasped, partly in shock and partly in response to the savage intensity of the kiss.

He took full advantage, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, claiming it with brutal possessiveness. You struggled against him at first, but his hand tightening around your throat pushed all thoughts of resistance out of your mind. Your hands flew to his shoulders, gripping the leather of his jacket as you yielded to the force of his kiss. When Logan finally pulled back, you were breathless, your lips swollen and throbbing. He leaned in close, his nose brushing against yours as he whispered, "Don't fight it, Y/N. Just take it like the good little girl you are"

Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, and you managed to croak out, "Fuck you, Logan." He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Oh, trust me, you're going to do a lot more than that." With no further warning, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head against the wall. His other hand slid down your body, tracing the curve of your waist before coming to rest on your hip. The roughness of his touch sent a bolt of electricity through you, and you shuddered involuntarily. "Tell me you want this," Logan demanded, his voice gruff. "Tell me you want me to fuck you hard and make you beg."

You bit your lip, the sting from earlier adding to the fire already burning within you. "Do it, then. Prove you're not all talk." His eyes darkened with lust, and he gave you a feral grin. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy breaking that defiant little spirit of yours." In one swift motion, he hoisted you up, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. The sudden movement made you gasp, and Logan took full advantage, grinding his hips against yours and eliciting a moan from deep within your throat. "That's it bub," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "You like that huh? Beg for it you fucking brat.”

You could feel his erection pressing insistently against your core, and the thought of having him inside you, filling you, sent a wave of heat crashing through your body. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of begging—not yet. "Get on with it, Wolverine," you taunted, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and excitement. "Or are you too much of a pussy?"Logan's grip on your hips tightened, and he slammed you harder against the wall, his growl vibrating through his chest and into yours.

Logan's grip on your hips tightened, and he slammed you harder against the wall, his growl vibrating through his chest and into yours. Before you could brace yourself, he plunged into you, his cock thick and unyielding. The sensation was almost too much, a sharp ache followed by the overwhelming fullness of his intrusion. You cried out, both in pain and relief, your nails digging into his shoulders. Logan paused for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size. "Good girl," he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Now let's see if you can take it."

With that, he began to move, his thrusts harsh and unrelenting. Each stroke drove the breath from your lungs, your back arching off the wall in reaction. You could feel every ridge of his cock, every rough patch of skin, as he claimed you with brutal efficiency. "Harder," you gasped, unable to stop yourself from pleading. "Fuck me harder, Logan." His answering growl was primal, and he redoubled his efforts, his thrusts becoming even more savage. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed off the walls, and you could feel the climax building deep within you, threatening to overtake you at any second. "Yes," Logan groaned, his voice strained with effort. "Take it, you little bitch. Take it all."

At that moment, you couldn't tell where the pain ended and the pleasure began. All you knew was Logan, his body moving against yours, his words driving you closer and closer to the edge. "Please," you whimpered, your voice broken. "I need—" Logan cut you off with a brutal thrust, his teeth sinking into the sensitive skin of your neck. The pain mixed with the overwhelming pleasure, and you shattered around him, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you trembling and breathless. As you rode out the waves of ecstasy, Logan continued to pound into you, his own release fast approaching. He withdrew briefly, only to slam back into you with even greater force, his control slipping away. "Come for me, Logan," you panted, your voice weak but desperate. "Make me your slut."

That final degradation was enough to push him over the edge. With a roar of triumph, he came, his seed filling you as his body went rigid with release. For a few blissful moments, there was nothing but the two of you, joined together in the aftermath of fierce passion. Slowly, Logan pulled out of you, gently lowering you to the floor. You slumped against the wall, your legs too shaky to support your weight. He looked down at you, his expression unreadable, before offering a small, almost sardonic smile.

"Feel better now, brat?" he asked, his voice softer than before. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could form a single word, the door to the hallway swung open, it was none other than Scott Summers strolling in. "What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing as she took in the scene before him. Logan turned to face him, his expression shifting back to its usual stoic mask. "None of your business, Cyclops," he replied, his tone dismissive.

“I owe Storm so much money…because if y’all did what I think you did I’m going to 150 dollars in debt.” Scott said slowly walking away. You look at Logan as you’re still slumped against the wall before cringing realizing what had happened. “this will never happen again I still despise you. I kinda of find you pathetic still.” You say weakly.

Logan looked at you with a smug look on his face rolling his eyes knowing damn well you were lying.

This unfortunately became more then a one time thing

[l4ndonorizz]

the dare / lando norris x reader

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: gorillaz - dare

summary: a casual night of drinks with friends turns into something more when lando dares you to take a leap—literally and emotionally. What starts as playful tension soon leads to confessions of long-hidden feelings, and a kiss that changes everything between you

wc: 2.3k

The evening had started like any other—casual drinks with friends, the sound of laughter and chatter filling the warm night air. You were all gathered at a beachside bar, the ocean in the background, and the atmosphere relaxed. It was the kind of night where everything felt easy, and nothing was planned.

Lando had been his usual self—charming, playful, always the center of attention without really trying. You couldn’t help but be drawn to him, even when you tried to focus on the group conversation. He had that effect on everyone, but lately, it felt like his attention was a little more focused on you.

As the night wore on, and more drinks flowed, the group’s energy shifted to something more playful. A few rounds of truth or dare had already been thrown around, with people taking turns doing silly challenges or confessing embarrassing secrets. You’d managed to dodge anything too wild so far, but when Lando’s eyes met yours, a grin spread across his face that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Alright,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his gaze fixed on you. “I dare you to do something.”

You raised an eyebrow, half-expecting him to challenge you to chug your drink or answer a ridiculous question. “What kind of dare?”

His grin widened. “Something fun. Something that gets you out of your comfort zone.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Like what?”

Lando gestured toward the nearby pier, where a group of people had gathered around a tall diving board that jutted out over the water. The platform was lit by a few scattered lights, and you could hear the splash of people jumping into the ocean below.

“How about a leap off that diving board?” he suggested, his tone light but his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You glanced at the board, feeling your stomach flip. Heights weren’t exactly your thing, and Lando knew that. But the way he looked at you—challenging, playful—made it hard to say no.

You groaned, throwing your head back dramatically. “Seriously? You couldn’t have dared me to sing karaoke or something?”

Lando chuckled, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “You could do that too, if you want. But I think the diving board will be way more fun.”

You bit your lip, debating whether to back out. But you knew you couldn’t—not with the way everyone was looking at you now, waiting to see what you’d do.

“Fine,” you said, standing up and giving Lando a pointed look. “But if I do this, you have to do something just as crazy.”

Lando’s grin widened, and he stood up beside you, extending his hand for a shake. “Deal.”

The group cheered as you made your way toward the pier, your heart pounding in your chest. The cool night air brushed against your skin as you walked, and the closer you got to the diving board, the more your nerves started to kick in.

“Still feeling brave?” Lando teased as he walked beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours.

You shot him a look. “I’m not backing out, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Good,” he said, his voice softening. “You’ve got this.”

There was something in his tone that made your heart skip a beat—like this wasn’t just about a silly dare anymore. The air between you felt charged, like the playful tension had shifted into something more serious, something that neither of you had addressed yet.

As you climbed up the steps to the diving board, you could feel Lando’s eyes on you, watching your every move. The board swayed slightly beneath your feet as you reached the edge, and you took a deep breath, staring down at the water far below.

“Just jump,” you muttered to yourself, trying to psych yourself up.

But then you heard Lando’s voice, soft but steady, cutting through your nerves. “I’m right here. You’re gonna be fine.”

You glanced back at him, standing at the base of the steps, his expression serious but encouraging. And in that moment, something clicked. This wasn’t just about the dive anymore. It was about the unspoken tension between you—the months of playful banter, the lingering looks, the way he made you feel seen in a way no one else did.

Taking one more deep breath, you closed your eyes and took the leap.

The fall felt endless, your heart racing as the wind rushed past you, and then—splash.

The cold water enveloped you, shocking your system but also filling you with a sense of exhilaration. When you surfaced, gasping for air, you could hear the cheers from your friends on the pier, and through the noise, you saw Lando grinning down at you, his eyes shining with pride.

You swam back to the dock, pulling yourself up onto the wooden platform, dripping and breathless. Lando was the first to meet you, his hand extended to help you up.

“You did it!” he said, his voice filled with genuine excitement.

You laughed, wiping the water from your face. “Yeah, and now it’s your turn to do something crazy.”

Lando smirked, still holding your hand. “I’m not sure I can top that.”

“You’d better try,” you teased, your pulse still racing—not just from the jump, but from the way his hand lingered on yours, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that made your breath catch.

The group began to filter back toward the bar, leaving you and Lando standing on the dock, the sound of the waves lapping against the pier. The energy between you shifted again, the playful tension giving way to something heavier, more charged.

Lando’s eyes searched yours, the playful smirk fading as he stepped a little closer. “You know, you didn’t have to do that. I wouldn’t have pushed you.”

You shrugged, trying to play it off even though your heart was pounding. “A dare’s a dare.”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah, but I think there’s more to this than just a dare, don’t you?”

Your breath caught at the intensity in his voice, and you realized with a start that he wasn’t talking about the dive anymore. The air between you felt thick with everything you hadn’t said, all the moments that had led up to this—the teasing, the looks, the way he always seemed to be right there, just a little too close for it to be purely platonic.

“What are you saying, Lando?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He took a deep breath, his eyes softening as he reached up to gently tuck a strand of wet hair behind your ear. “I’m saying that maybe it’s time we stop pretending this is just a game.”

Lando’s words hung in the air, his hand still lingering by your cheek as you stood frozen, heart racing. The noise from the bar and your friends had faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in this bubble, on the edge of something you’d both been avoiding for so long.

“Stop pretending?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled softly, his gaze unwavering. “Yeah. I think we’ve been pretending for a while now.”

You swallowed, your mind reeling as you tried to process the weight of his words. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it—about him, about the chemistry that simmered between you—but you’d always brushed it off, convinced that it was just part of the playful banter you shared.

But now, standing here with him, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body, you realized that maybe you hadn’t been imagining it. Maybe there really was more.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “Lando, I—”

Before you could finish, he stepped closer, his hand moving from your cheek to your waist, pulling you just a little closer to him. The proximity made your head spin, the scent of the ocean mixing with the faint traces of his cologne.

“I’ve liked you for a while now,” he confessed quietly, his voice so soft you almost didn’t hear it. “But I didn’t want to ruin what we have. I didn’t want to push you into something you didn’t want.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, every nerve in your body suddenly alive with the weight of his words. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” you admitted, your voice shaky. “I mean, I thought maybe sometimes, but I didn’t want to… assume.”

Lando chuckled softly, his thumb brushing gently against your waist. “You’re not assuming anything. I’ve been trying to hold back because I wasn’t sure how you felt. But now, standing here with you, I just… I can’t pretend anymore.”

The vulnerability in his voice, the way his eyes searched yours for some kind of reassurance, made your heart swell with warmth. He wasn’t just being playful or teasing this time—this was real, raw, and honest.

You took a deep breath, your chest tightening with the realization that you felt the same way. “I think I’ve liked you for a while too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just didn’t know what to do about it.”

Lando’s eyes lit up with a mix of relief and excitement, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “So… what do we do now?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the simplicity of the question, like the answer was both obvious and terrifying all at once. “I guess we stop pretending.”

Lando grinned, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes, but this time it was softer, more intimate. “Yeah. I think that sounds like a good plan.”

Before you could say anything else, he closed the small gap between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was gentle, almost tentative, like he was giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t. Instead, you melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest as you deepened the kiss, your heart pounding in your ears.

The world around you disappeared, leaving just the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands on your waist, pulling you closer like he’d been waiting for this moment for months—maybe even longer. It wasn’t a rushed kiss, or one filled with the frantic energy of something long overdue. It was slow, deliberate, filled with all the emotions you’d both kept bottled up for so long.

When you finally pulled back, both of you slightly breathless, Lando rested his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed, like he was savoring the moment.

“Wow,” he whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips. “That was… worth the wait.”

You laughed softly, your hands still resting on his chest. “Yeah. Definitely.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything, just standing there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the cool night air brushing against your skin. The playful banter that usually defined your relationship had given way to something deeper, something that felt more real than anything you’d ever experienced before.

After a while, Lando pulled back slightly, his hand still resting on your waist. “So… does this mean I win the dare?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “Oh, shut up.”

Lando laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he leaned down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “I’m serious! I dared you to do something outside your comfort zone, and look what happened.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t think kissing you was part of the dare.”

“Maybe not,” he said with a grin. “But I’d say it was a pretty good result.”

You shook your head, unable to stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you still kissed me,” he teased, his hands finding their way back to your waist.

You bit your lip, trying to hide the smile that was threatening to break free. “Yeah, well… I guess I don’t regret it.”

Lando’s expression softened, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “Neither do I,” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur.

The weight of his words, the sincerity in his gaze, made your heart flutter in a way that you couldn’t ignore. This wasn’t just some silly dare, or a fleeting moment of fun between friends—this was real. And it was something you both had been avoiding for far too long.

As the night continued, you and Lando made your way back to the bar where your friends were still hanging out, but everything felt different now. The playful teasing between you had shifted into something more meaningful, and as you sat down beside him, you couldn’t help but feel like the air between you was lighter, easier.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and conversation, but every time you caught Lando’s eye, you were reminded of the kiss, of the unspoken feelings that had finally been brought to the surface. It wasn’t just a dare anymore—it was something more, something that had been brewing between you for months.

And as the night drew to a close and Lando walked you home, his hand wrapped around yours, you couldn’t help but feel like everything had changed. Not in a drastic, life-altering way, but in a quiet, steady way that made you realize that this—whatever it was between you and Lando—wasn’t just a fleeting moment.

It was the start of something real.

[randomness-is-my-order]

another thing that always struck me about jiang cheng and wei wuxian’s relationship is how little jc actually seems to understand wwx and where he was coming from and this is not just an empathy problem (though that is entirely present, too) but also the lack of effort to truly open up to wei wuxian’s pov and seek it from the source himself.

this is possibly the randomest example i can give but during their chat in the burial mounds, jc comments on the situation with the food and whether crops would even grow in the burial mounds and whether people could even live there and it’s just...even if he’s not sure about wwx spending months in the burial mounds, he KNOWS wwx lived in the streets in his early childhood and nothing gives people the mentality of “survival before all else” than that but jc had either never bothered to learn about wwx’s past before he came to lotus pier in all the years he’d known him or he did know and never bothered to contexualise things so he didn’t have to wonder whether a comfortable lifestyle was truly a valid concern for wwx. here’s the passage if anyone wants to read the exact phrasing:

Jiang Cheng was incredulous. “You’re planting things on a mountain made of corpses? Will anything that grows even be edible?” “Trust me. Anything is edible when you’re hungry enough.” “Do you really plan on settling here for the long-term?” Jiang Cheng asked. “Can people even live in a hellish place like this?” “I lived here for three months before,” Wei Wuxian stated.

now, ik jc’s headspace at the time was focussed on detracting wwx’s resolve to live in the burial mounds but my point is moreso that jc actually did not comprehend who wwx was as a person in the books, ever. he literally never came close. and this isn’t even about the missing information like the golden core transplant or the true circumstances of wwx’s three months disappearance. it’s jiang cheng thinking wwx always wanted to show off, linking his actions to a hero complex, thinking wwx was needlessly arrogant, not understanding why wwx would stick his neck out for the wens. it’s the way jiang cheng rarely, if ever, gave wei wuxian any grace in his reading of his actions–always looking at wei wuxian through a lens that was inherently unfavourable and thereby, never allowed him to truly view wwx for who he is.

in contrast, wei wuxian always understood jiang cheng in a way i don’t think jc knew he did. the way he knew where jc’s cutting words originated from, the way he could read jc’s insecurities, the way he could empathise with his grief and anger, even after everything went to absolute hell between the two. i’m not claiming wei wuxian understood jiang cheng like no other or had some uniquely profound insight into his mindset but there is enough content in the books that makes it clear that wei wuxian saw jiang cheng for the person that he was and gave him more grace (than he deserved, imo) and that this understanding was not at all present in jiang cheng’s perspective of wei wuxian.

which brings me to another observation: jiang cheng may or may not have loved wei wuxian but he sure as hell never respected him. because when you respect someone (and i’d argue there is no real love without respect), you try to get to know the person, try to see their side of things, try to assemble your opinion of them after informing yourself about their life. jiang cheng, for me, never exhibited the interest to go even slightly out of his way and gain a better understanding of wwx. wei wuxian wasn’t someone he wanted to spend that kind of time on – be it because jc had internalised the social hierarchy separating them, had never liked wwx for being better than him in various fields or because he was simply not the kind of person who would be emotionally even a little generous in his relationships. it doesn’t matter.

the point for me is that this give-and-take was never balanced. it was always wei wuxian over-extending his internal resources while jc never realised or refused to. some say their relationship only became worse/toxic after the wen remnants were rescued but the seeds were there since their childhoods. their circumstances exacerbated the issue tenfold, yes, most definitely, but that issue was always present and would blow up their relationship sooner or later, as long as jiang cheng didn’t have substantial growth. jiang cheng continuing to live was worth the sacrifice for wei wuxian (be it from a source of affection, obligation, duty, anything) but staying by wei wuxian’s side after the shift to burial mounds was not worth the trouble for jiang cheng. and yes their personalities have alot to do with their individual decisions in these pressing matters but i’m sure that were it jiang yanli who had taken wei wuxian’s spot, jiang cheng’s actions would be far different but do the switch with jiang cheng, and wei wuxian would still make the same choice. because jiang cheng’s relationship with wei wuxian was undeniably unbalanced to begin with. he never did consider wwx his equal and so, never tried to put in the same effort that wwx did. it’s as simple as that.

[once-upon-an-animation]

If the TSATS sequel isn’t a well-written, well-structured, well-developed Will Solace-centric where Will finally gets a real identity instead of just being Nico’s boyfriend, I will officially give up on the Solangelo ship and anything related to them.

Solangelo has had 4 books to sell me on their relationship, both as a couple and as individuals, but I am so sorry, Will Solace is not a convincing or compelling character. Most of the intrigue going for him predicates himself on the whole ‘Happy Sunshine + Grumpy Darkness” dynamic, and it’s too shallow of a foundation. Cool for him being a form of representation, but as an avid and passionate story consumer, I am well past the point of being so easily impressed by mere representation. If you’re going to do DEI and representation, you need to fucking do it well. It’s not enough to just throw surface-level discussions race/ethnicity/sexual orientation/gender identity into a story and then act like your work is done. You actually have to design a story that’s worthy enough to carry that diversity. If your representation doesn’t come with quality writing, I don’t fucking want that shit!

So for Rick/Mark, it’s time for them to step up their game. Give Will a real personality, and a real identity. Make him an interesting person worth giving a shit about. Tell me what else has happened in his life other than just Nico. Tell me about his family, his friends, his siblings, his view on the gods/his dad, what it was like to participate in three wars and/or watch his counselors die. Tell me about the kind of people he was crushing on before he met Nico. Tell me what his thoughts about romance were BEFORE he met Nico. Add some real fucking substance to this character, I am literally begging you!