#i'm so sorry it took this long to finish your request ;_;

[blackcat-star]

Do you accept request perhaps? Cause I really wanna request for Igris x reader where reader is Igris lover from back then but sadly died and got reincarnated in today's time as jin-woo old classmate and they finally meet with Igris having bits of their memories and reader remembering everything. This is theme with angst and chaos (from the other shadow)

May Fate Give Us A Chance.

Igris x Fem!Reader.

Note: I finally finish this! After a whole month!!!! ... Lol I'm sorry my dear reader😭

__________

Rain fell in drops against the glass windows of a grand and majestic mansion, casting long shadows across the marble floor. Outside, the neatly trimmed rose garden surrendered to the pouring rain, petals glistening in the distant lightning.

Tonight the weather seems worse than usual.

Winters in this country usually have very little rain, so it was unusual for there to be a sudden downpour like this. It gave people a bad feeling about something. Something dark was about to happen. A separation. Life and death are on the edge and in a struggle.

The war had been going on for almost three years, and there was still no sign of it coming to an end. At present, everything is stabilized by the truce. But everyone knows that it is just an excuse to not have to fight in the current unfavorable weather for both sides. Perhaps before dying on the battlefield, the soldiers died first from the ice and snow, from the rain that penetrated their skin, from the cold, from hunger and thirst. So the truce is now the most suitable solution for both sides. And it also opens up hope for peace negotiations.

Or so we hope.

Inside, the mansion maintained a solemn silence. The silence was broken only by the crackling of a fire in the fireplace of an office, where the commander of the army, Igris, sat reviewing maps spread out on a jet-black ebony table.

Crystal vases glinted, casting amber reflections on the leather-bound books stacked on the table, and on the wooden bookcases. An old sword hung over the fireplace. Nearby was a globe, with some of the borders marked in intricate patterns, a testament to long evenings spent pondering strategy.

Servants moved like ghosts through the corridors, their footsteps muffled by thick Persian rugs. They knew better than to disturb the commander on nights like this, when the rain seemed to add to the weight of the decisions that had to be made before dawn.

The office door creaked open, causing Igris to frown. He was sure that he had asked everyone not to disturb him while he was working, and everyone understood that. Yet what kind of idiot would dare enter without permission.

But when Igris raised his head and saw the figure hiding behind the door, his eyes softened.

His wife, you, in a white woolen nightgown with your hair down, hesitantly peeked your head out at him through the door. "Igris..."

Igris put the map down on the table, immediately stood up and walked towards his wife, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Wife, are you still not asleep?"

You leaned against him, pressing your ear to his chest to hear his heartbeat. "I can't sleep without you."

He gently tightened his arms around you, feeling your small body shivering in the wind and the sound of rain outside the glass window. Inside the large office, the light from the fireplace fell on your face, making your sad eyes seem even softer and more fragile in his.

"I'm sorry," Igris whispered. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting this long."

You just shook your head, your fingers tightening around Igris' thick military coat. "I know you're busy..."

He gently led you to the fireplace, letting you sit down on the red velvet armchair. "Wait for me," Igris said, turning back to the table, carefully folding the map and putting all the papers in the locked drawer. Then he returned, took off his heavy military coat, leaving only his white shirt underneath, and sat down next to you.

He pulled the thick blanket over your legs, then let you sit on his lap, carefully holding you in his arms.

You snuggled into him, letting his warmth dispel the winter and the chill in your heart.

Sensing his mood, Igris gently reached up to stroke your hair. "Is something bothering you?"

"I don't know...," you whispered. "But I have a bad feeling."

You looked up at him. "Igris, will the war end soon?"

It was a difficult question. Igris paused for a moment. For he himself did not know whether the war would end soon, or whether it would take another three years, or even more than twenty years.

"In a few days," he said softly, "there might be news of a peace conference. But at the same time, I have heard some bad rumors."

"Regarding the armistice?"

Igris pondered, his eyes looking at the fire as if looking into the distance. "There are those who do not want peace. If they act sooner than expected, I am not sure if we will be able to react in time."

You were silent for a moment, then placed your hand on his. "If war breaks out, will you go to war again?"

Igris nodded firmly. "As the commander of the army, that is my responsibility. It is only a pity for you, as the wife of a soldier, you may have to endure a lot of hardship and suffering."

You shook your head. "I love you. Ever since I agreed to marry you, I've been prepared for everything." You paused for a few seconds. "But I always hoped you would come back safely."

The wind howled outside the window, accompanied by the sound of rain hitting the glass, like someone crying in the middle of the night.

Finally, Igris squeezed your hand gently. "I will always come back to you, don't worry."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

But both of you knew that this promise was as fragile as a thread.

And in the end, the promise was not fulfilled.

...

The surprise attack broke out at dawn on Wednesday, the sun had not yet risen above the misty horizon.

No warning. No note rejecting the peace treaty. No sign except the rumbling of cannons that seemed to tear the sky apart, shaking the earth and awakening the nightmares that had been sleeping in the hearts of the people.

Igris set out on the coldest morning of winter, under the worried eyes of all the servants in the mansion and the unease in his wife's eyes. He didn't have time to say any words of comfort, only time to leave a hasty kiss on your lips and a final message. "Wait for me to return."

The neighing of a horse sounded, the commander mounted his horse and urged his horse to gallop towards the battlefield.

You stood on the balcony of your bedroom door, between the rows of snow-covered stone pillars, your eyes following the army as it disappeared towards the mountains. Your white cloak fluttered like the wind, blending with the falling snow.

You waited.

A week.

Then a month.

Months passed.

While everyone put aside their grief and eased their fears of war by trying to prepare well for the spring party with the hope of a better future, winter seemed to never end at the commander's mansion.

The royal knights arrived, carefully carrying a box wrapped in the national flag.

The wife was shocked, her face was pale and bloodless. The look of shock and pain was clearly visible on your face. Your limbs felt like they were about to give out, without any strength left.

"We're sorry..."

"Commander Igris' body could not be found in the sea of ​​blood..."

"Please hold back your grief..."

The box was handed to your trembling arms and the knights left with a respectful bow.

You fell to your knees, tears streaming down your cheeks, hugging your husband's remains and sobbing. "You promised to come back..."

___________

You dream the same dream again.

The clash of swords, the thunder of hooves, and the screams of the dying. And at the center of it all, a tall figure in shining purple armor. His name danced at the edges of your consciousness, drifting away like smoke as you tried to grasp it.

Igris.

The name comes to you naturally, a ghostly memory from a life you can't recall. But each night, the dreams came more frequently, more vividly, until they barely felt like dreams at all.

You groaned, rolling out of bed to face another ordinary day at Seoul High School. Another day of trying to pretend that you belonged to this era, in this life. Another day of searching for something, someone, that you couldn't name.

"Are you late again, Miss L/n?" Mr. Kang's disapproving gaze met yours as you entered the classroom.

"Sorry, teacher," you muttered, sitting down next to Jinwoo. The quiet boy barely acknowledged your presence, lost in his own thoughts as usual.

Jinwoo had changed lately. You remembered him being weak. At least about two years ago. Then one day he suddenly stopped going to school and disappeared for two years. When he came back, he brought something with him, some kind of power that surpassed humanity.

Not sure if anyone else saw it, or if you were just paranoid, but this classmate always gave off a strong and dark aura that was suffocating. Sometimes you saw his shadow seem to lengthen, and there were flashes of light from it.

Moreover, for some reason, you felt something familiar.

Realizing you were staring at him, Jinwoo turned around. "Do you need something?"

You immediately flinched and turned away "Sorry!", completely embarrassed when you realized you had been looking at him for too long.

Jinwoo just smiled, his eyes flashing dangerously. He whispered, but you couldn't hear it. "It seems like she can sense you guys."

'You guys' here referring to the shadow soldiers hiding in his shadow.

Beru appeared. "Do you want me to eliminate this person, My Liege!"

Igris immediately appeared and fiercely objected. "No! You must not harm this person!"

Seeing Igris's unusual loss of composure, Jinwoo was curious. "Why?"

The small version of Igris was slightly agitated. The shadow commander pondered for a moment before hesitantly confessing. "This person...resembles my wife in my previous life, My Liege."

Jinwoo shocked.

Beru shocked.

The whole army of shadow soldiers shocked.

"WHAT!?"

________

"So...you were a human before you became a soldier of Ashborn's army."

"Yes, My Liege. I once lived the life of a human. I studied and graduated from a prestigious knight training school, met my destiny, and got married. It's a pity that we couldn't be together until the end of our lives, and we didn't have a child yet."

Jinwoo said nothing. Trying to absorb the large amount of information he had just received.

While Igris was confiding in Jinwoo, in the Shadow Realm, the shadow soldiers were holding a meeting - which Beru thought was secret - but Jinwoo could sense it all - where the ant king seemed to be giving some kind of presentation.

With his many years of experience watching dramas, Beru lifted his glasses (which came from nowhere) and began to lecture about this love affair.

"Dear Shadow Soldiers," Beru said, his voice drawling as if he were standing on a theater stage. "Kiekkkkk. We are witnessing a phenomenon unprecedented in the history of the Shadow Legion!"

The Shadow Soldiers nodded, watching intently.

"The woman sitting next to our Liege at the human school - is a perfect replica of Igris's deceased wife from his previous life!" Beru said, holding up a glowing projection of you he had created.

"Impossible!"

"A predestined relationship from a previous life!?"

"As romantic as the dramas General Beru watches!"

"As good comrades...we must help the commander pursue the love of his life!" Beru cleared his throat. "So I'm pleased to announce that the 'LOVE WINS' campaign has officially begun!"

"Hurayyyyyyy!"

"For love!"

"So what should we do, general?" Tusk asked.

"That's why I called this meeting. We need to think of a way to help Igris." Beru tapped the jet-black stone table after distributing headbands that read 'For the Happiness of Commander Igris' to the shadow soldiers present.

"First of all, we need a strategy," Beru growled, drawing in the air with his hand. A strategy board appeared in midair.

"Step 1: Find out the reincarnated young lady's habits and preferences.

Step 2: Create opportunities for Igris and the young lady to interact more.

Step 3: Assist Commander Igris in confessing."

The ballroom erupted with enthusiastic "ohs" and "ahs."

Tusk raised his hand. "General Beru, how can we help Igris approach the girl when we are all under the King's shadow?"

Beru narrowed his eyes. "Kiekkkkkk. That's the problem. But judging from the situation this morning, it seems like the young lady can sense us. And moreover, our Liege is studying with the young lady! We can take advantage of this. Let's start appearing more and help the young lady remember Igris!"

The entire hall cheered in approval.

Meanwhile, Jinwoo was sweating profusely as he listened to the 'shadow soldier conference' and looked at Igris who was still sitting quietly beside him, completely oblivious to what his comrades were saying. Jinwoo secretly felt sorry for Igris, but he didn't intend to stop the shadow soldiers. After all, this might not be a bad thing, after all, Jinwoo wanted this commander of his to be happy.

___________________

And...ever since then you've felt like you're being watched.

It seems your paranoia has gotten worse as you start seeing shadows spread across the ground and walls with glowing eyes. They even seem to wave at you.

You're scared to death.

You don't understand why they're following you. You can't help but wonder if this is some evil plot and you've accidentally angered them. You shudder at the thought.

You even feel like Jinwoo's dark aura seems to be stronger, making you wary of him a lot more. You should probably apologize to him and ask for forgiveness even though you don't know what you did wrong. But you were also afraid that if he realized you could see Jinwoo's aura, he might kill you to shut you up. Thousands of scenarios ran through your head, making you panic even more. But in the end, you decided to meet him after school.

At first, Jinwoo was quite confused when you said you wanted to meet him after school. And seeing your hesitant appearance, he thought of the possibility that you wanted to confess to him, which made him even more confused.

He seemed to have done something wrong to Igris... He could imagine Igris looking at him with eyes full of resentment and disappointment.

But when you bowed down to apologize to him, his brain stopped working for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry, sir! I don't know if you're part of any cult or what I did wrong to you. But I have absolutely no ill will and no intention of interfering in your business, please don't send those monters to follow me anymore!"

Jinwoo: ?

That's when he realized that leaving the shadow soldiers alone had led to an unintended misunderstanding.

Jinwoo sighed and explained everything to you.

___________

You: (＠_＠;)

You froze after hearing Jinwoo's explanation. A large amount of information had just been conveyed to you.

And then, he summoned Igris.

Igris stood stiffly in front of you. He silently cursed the shadow soldiers who had caused this situation. He really didn't know how to act in front of you. He didn't even know if you remembered him or not. If not, this situation would be really awkward.

When your eyes met Igris's, you were instantly stunned. Memories of your past life flooded back for a moment, and the dreams seemed to become clearer.

Your eyes widened and tears gradually formed in your eyes. "Igris...? Husband...?"

Jinwoo decided to leave so that the two of you could have some privacy.

"My Lady...," Igris whispered.

You burst into tears and ran to hug Igris. Even though you couldn't see his face, you still recognized who he was, the aura of the person you loved was always the same, you couldn't mistake it.

Igris panicked, something that was unusual for him - a commander who was always calm and cool. He gently hugged you back and comforted you.

"You promised to come back! You broke your promise!" You sobbed. "I missed you so much!"

Igris hugged your body tightly. Even though he was now a shadow, you seemed to have returned to the old days in the warm embrace of your old husband. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for making you wait so long..."

You rubbed your head against his chest, tears falling down. "I waited, I waited for the day you brought the victory flag back. I dreamed of you, of us, but when I woke up, it was all just an illusion..."

Igris said sincerely. "I'm so sorry. But my dear, I'm a shadow now. My world right now is so different from yours. I'm afraid...."

You shook your head. "I don't care. I just need you. Whether this life or the next, whether you're in this form, as long as you're Igris, I will always love you."

He hugged you tighter. "I love you so much. In the past life, this life, and forever."

__________

Meanwhile, in Shadow Realm.

Everyone was looking at the scene before them with emotional eyes. Some shadow soldiers were wiping their tears with handkerchiefs and blowing their noses dramatically.

Beru held up the banner of 'For the Happiness of Commander Igris' and shouted loudly. " 'LOVE WINS' campaign was a great success."

"Hurayyyyyy."

"Congratulations, Commander Igris!"

"Be happy, Commander!"

I forgot to make masterlist for the others character :0 noooo, i'm a bad writer 〒▽〒

[gotchibam]

Silly little Spheals ko-fi doodle for Nova! ❄️

[creativitwincest]

You take requests O: what about them dying each others hair?

I can see Remus just being messy as all get out with it but he does His Best so Roman's hair is nice.

Remus 100% goes at it with his bare hands

[busterbby]

HIII I REALLY LOVE YOUR WRITING!! can I request bb with ichiro having a really short gf who literally reaches below his shoulders? She's also really clumsy and energetic!!

You, unfortunately, just found out about my Ichi size difference kink lol. so maybe I did go off a bit for his part.. oops. but this was sm fun to write! I didn't quite know what to do for Jiro and Sabu's, so they're shorter if that's ok! and sorry for the delay anon!! I hope I got everything you wanted and more, pls enjoy~

— big bro’s short, clumsy girl.

fluff. f!reader. ichiro, jiro, saburo.

Ichiro . . . is so gentle and giant, when it comes to you

he's so big and tall, with broad shoulders that seem to touch the sky. you don't even reach them; and he can envelop you whole, when you two cuddle on the couch on anime dates

when he kisses you, they're always just so big and full, as slow and tender as he goes. he can cup your face with just one hand of his, and it's as if he can reach all the way to your heart and kiss it sweetly too

yet, his touch is never heavier than you'd think. his fingers never dimple your cheeks when he cups them; his hands never mess up your hair that much when he ruffles it. he'd never break you

Ichiro is careful around you. not that he isn't always! but-

i mean. he’s.. big. and you’re small! obviously. could a giant like him really be with you..? he wouldn’t want to hurt you after all! but, really, that’s what makes the two of you perfect together

but really, it’s the obvious size difference of it all that gets to him

okk. maybe he has a.. thing, for size difference. Ichi would shyly admit to himself one day

like damn. you’re just so cute and tiny compared to him. when you look up at him just to meet his eyes, it’s obvious. when you have to stand on your toes to try and reach the highest cupboard — because dammit, the Yamada bros are just giants, it seems! — man- he knows he has something going on, Ichi would blush, all too embarrassed at himself

yet, when he comes behind you and reaches over for you, it’s his heart that skips a beat — not yours. it’s Ichi that gets cutely shy as he realizes just how small you are compared to him, how you fit perfectly into his chest. into his heart

damn.. his girlfriend is really too cute

and, even his laughs are too big and warm for you or your chest; they envelop you whole, better than any warm blanket can

his entire hand fits yours quite easily too — it’s not even fair. and ichi just loves to compare his hands to yours, the way his heart only flutters so; he's a bit of a dork, like that

and he’d blush slightly, all cute, when he noticed just how small yours are compared to his. they’re not as rough or cracked. perhaps a bit more soft, much more dainty. compared to his anyway

and Ichi would do that sappy thing when he curls his fingers to then hold your hand. then he grins so sweet and handsome and cliché

and, maybe, his rings are too big for you. and they dig in between your fingers.. and Ichiro's thumb is just so thick and rough when he rubs the back of your hands comfortingly. it's a feeling you grow to love

but he never holds your hand too tight either. as if nervous that if he held on, you’d break like porcelain with just one touch from him

he’s mindful about you — it's cute! even if it’s a bit much at times

which perhaps doesn’t bode well for the fact that you’re.. well, quite the opposite, of the term

i mean, he loves your energy! it’s infectious, and after a long day of tiresome odd jobs, Ichi looks forward to you and your bright smile again today

he doesn’t know, it’s just one of those things he absolutely adores about you

but- he sighs. he wishes you’d be a bit more careful. you’re always giving him mini heart attacks, he swears, whenever you

“woah!” he catches you in his arms, before you could trip over your own two feet and fall ; he holds you delicately, as if you’d break just from a slight squeeze. “you should be careful where you’re going, babe”

he says — like a prince charming of sorts, ready to catch you at your feet

yet, he’s the one to get the butterflies and blush the sweetest pink, when he notices just how small and short you seem in his arms

but i mean, as clumsy as you may be, you’ll always find yourself falling right into and enveloped by your boyfriend’s strong arms~

(and ichi might just get a heart attack one day from how cute you are)

Jiro . . . is quite perplexed, really

how could you be so small?? and older than him too? in his mind, it just doesn’t make any sense nor compute! not that he was any good at math

he’s rather broad and tall too — though not as much as aniki. so you barely reach below his shoulders as well, and he definitely thinks you're a cute girl, when Jiro first meets you. and a good match for aniki at that

(though he totally thought you were a little younger when he first met you, mostly since you were so short compared to him

it does make for a cute mishap though! he sometimes forgets to call you '-san,' and when he realizes, it's difficult not to giggle at how red he blushes, before muttering a shy 'sorry')

think it'd be a bit funny if you're always unintentionally giving him jumpscares since Jiro seems to always be losing you

where did you come from?? you just appeared out of nowhere! he’d totally yelp (and totally unmanly at that, Jiro would groan all cute), before burning warm when he realizes that oh, it’s just you

ugh, you need to stop giving him mini heart attacks! he can't believe he just did that in front of aniki's girl.. he'd hide himself all shy in the brim of his cap

he’s also rather energetic and very social, so you two would get along well! he matches your energy right away

unfortunately, that means you two are probably a chaotic (and really annoying) duo. for Saburo, anyway

maybe Ichi gets just a little worried over the two of you. maybe

i mean, he trusts you! he trusts Jiro too. it’s just.. could he trust the two of you together? to watch over the house and not burn it down as he runs out and completes this job real quick? he doesn’t know..

but, knowing how (cutely) clumsy you can be.. knowing his younger brother Jiro.. mm, can you really blame Ichi for being a little on edge leaving you two alone?

Jiro would definitely see you as a big sister! though i suppose, sometimes he mistakes you for a little sister bc of your height-

but he thinks you make a pretty good pair for his bro~

annoying — Saburo . . . probably thinks of you, at first

listen, he doesn’t quite have the energy to match yours. he's more reserved, usually holed up in his room. he doesn't really do energy; he gets exhausted just from being in the same room as you

so when Sabu first sees that you're just as peppy and cheery and energetic as any other fool, he can't help but groan

great. another moron to deal with, he'd probably huff

but you’re Ichi-nii’s girlfriend, so he does have to be polite with you, if only because he knows how much his older brother loves you so

but, i mean, you’re always tripping and having near misses, especially near dangerous supplies, like the kitchen (like, seriously?? Saburo huffs) ; he’s always having to look after you! and you’re older than him!! ugh

even Jiro isn’t this much of a klutz

but — and he won’t ever admit — he’d still think of you as an older sister as the days grow and you come over more.

you’re kinda like Jiro in a way: bothersome, annoying, way too energetic this early in the morning. Sabu sighs, already much too exhausted just with being next to you

but. he still has a special sorta spot in his heart for you. you're sorta fun to be around, and.. ok, maybe you did give some good advice here and there. and maybe you did brighten the Yamada house and his day whenever you came over. not that he’d ever say

mm, he supposes he tolerates you. or even a bit more than that

like, if you didn’t come over in a few days, he’d ask why and if you’re ok. i mean, even with Jiro in the house, it still feels a bit too eerily quiet now since you weren't around

he is still oh so very sweet with you, in his own special ‘sabu’ sorta way

like, he would still reach over and grab things from the top shelf for you, even if you don’t ask and even if he seems a bit pouty to do so. and he would totally hang out with you if you asked, even if you're a bit too peppy this early in the day or even if he had other plans that day, as he'd say anyway

and, fine. he’ll admit. sabu thinks you make a pretty good couple with his brother, when you stand side-by-side

[myocdump]

What... is your name? What... is your quest? What... is your favorite color? (idk who this is for, do your favorite idea or somethin')

MY N4M3 15: 7YP0. MY QU3S7 15: [R357R1CT3D 4CC355] MY F4V0R173 C0L0R 15: UND3F1N3D 4S 0F 70D4Y. 5H0ULD 4 P4TCH R3QU35T B3 M4D3 0N TH15 M4773R? Y/N

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Just read your telling the LADS Men you're pregnant hcs and AAAA I loved it so muchhh. the boys r so silly. SOOO May I request LADS men when reader goes into labour when they're away? Sorry I just love chaos 🤭

The Baby is Coming!

Giving your lads man a call when you're going into labor while he's not with you. A/N: Hey nonnie I bet you thought I forgot about this request huh? I didn't sorry I took so long to finish it. Love you 🩵

Zayne

Calling Zaynes' office

Zayne: Dr. Zayne speaking Tara: It’s coming Zayne: What’s coming?

Fumbling noises from you snatching the phone from Tara

MC: Your big headed child Zayne my water just broke

Loud clattering noises on Zaynes' end

Zayne: I’m on my way home now MC: Tara is bringing me to the hospital just stay there Zayne: Right right �� I'll report to labor and delivery MC: *groans in pain* Zayne: How bad is the pain MC: I’ll punch you in the nuts so you can experience it firsthand Zayne: I’ll let that one slide because I know it’s the contractions talking

Rafayel

MC: The twins are coming Rafayel: WHAT!? MC: YEA! Rafayel: They’re 3 weeks early MC: No shit sherlock *groans in pain* Rafayel: Tell them I said stop hurting mommy MC: Mommy is gonna curb stomp daddy if he isn’t here within the next 5 minutes Rafayel: Don’t worry your savior is on the way MC: You’re not funny hurry up Rafayel: Can’t you just cross your legs? MC: Nvm I’ll drive myself Rafayel: Okay okay I’m sorry I’m just freaking out MC: I have not one but two crotch goblins trying to rip me in half I need you to lock in or so help me God I will fry you up and serve you with a side of fries and extra tartar sauce you hear me? Rafayel: Yes ma’am

Xavier

Xavier: I have everything ready to read to your tummy tonight MC: You’ll be reading to our son instead Xavier: What do you mean? MC: My water broke while I was at Philos Xavier: Why are you there? MC: I was picking out the flowers I want in my hospital room *groans in pain* Xavier: I’m coming don't worry MC: You coming is what caused all of this but it's fine Jeremiah is driving me to the hospital now Xavier: ……does he drive better than me? MC: Xav please don’t piss me off right now……. Xavier: Right heading there now MC: Make sure you bring the baby bag Xavier: I have it ... unlike Jeremiah MC: NOT NOW!

Sylus

Sylus: I'm getting a distress call from Mephisto what's wrong? MC: The baby is coming Sylus: Is this another case of Braxton Hicks? MC: No its a case of amniotic fluid all over the damn kitchen floor Sylus: I'm on my way don’t move MC: *groaning in pain* I can barely do anything right now Sylus: Remember the breathing techniques MC: This is all your fault Sylus: I know Princess you can squeeze my hand as hard as you want MC: I’m gonna break it Sylus: Good luck with that MC: What did you just say? Sylus: I said I’m sure of that

Caleb

MC: Hey dumbass your big headed child is trying to tear me in two Caleb: Aww are they kicking too hard? MC: Caleb….. Caleb: Don’t tell me MC: Yes my water broke Caleb: Okay don’t worry I’m on my way stay on the phone with me MC: Gideon is already driving me to the hospital meet us there Caleb: ….. MC: You there? Caleb: Is he driving safe? MC: CALEB! Caleb: Right on my way! Uh real quick did you grab the baby bag? MC: Yes Caleb: Do you remember the breathing techniques? MC: Yes Caleb: Did you- MC: STOP WITH THE TWENTY ONE QUESTIONS BEFORE I HANG UP Caleb: Alright I'm done but just so you know you can scream at me all you want I don't mind MC: *Hangs up*

[not-neverland06]

broken promises

pt two

bodyguard!logan howlett x congressman's daughter!reader

a/n: the fact that he was canonically a bodyguard makes me absolutely insane someone congratulate me, I finally figured out how to make my own dividers Summary: He's learned from past mistakes that no matter how tempting the girl is, it's better not to get involved. He just needs some cash, he doesn't give a fuck how pretty you are. He doesn't care about you. He makes it clear he wants nothing to do with you besides seeing you sign his check. But, is that really all he wants? You're not blind to the way he looks at you. 18+ MDNI Shameless smut at the end, I'm not sorry about it at all.

Logan had gotten used to this. The long drawn-out wait to meet with the man who wanted to hire him. He always arrived right on time, not a moment earlier. They all had the same game they liked to play. 

The secretary would greet him, a pretty girl in her 20s that the men were screwing or trying to screw. Then they would make him sit in the lobby for half an hour. They’d apologize by pushing the blame on someone else, saying a meeting had gone on too long. But there wasn’t a meeting. There never was. 

They liked to make themselves seem more important than they were. It was a power game, an intimidation tactic that he had always scoffed at. He didn’t give a fuck what government ties they had or otherwise. He just wanted his paycheck. 

This one was no different. A congressman who had only recently begun to make waves when he started up an anti-mutant agenda. Ironic that he had specifically requested Logan for the very thing he was trying to eradicate. 

There was a buzz and then the secretary was picking up her phone. She spared Logan a fleeting glance before whispering something into the receiver. She looked over at him and he already knew what she was going to say.  “He’s ready for you now.” 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” she gave him a coquettish smile as he made his way towards the large office at the end of the hall. The door was closed when he reached it, three quick knocks and then a quiet Come in. 

The man didn’t even look up to greet him. He continued signing something on his desk. Logan took a seat in one of the chairs, waiting for another few minutes before he was deemed important enough to address. He received a tight smile and narrowed eyes as the man took in the way he was dressed. 

He never dressed up for these things. He’d learned a while ago that a suit wasn’t going to get him any further than his leather jacket was. Might as well be comfortable while talking to these pricks. 

“Had a phone call with an associate of mine. Ran on longer than I meant it to.” Always an excuse, never an apology. 

Logan scoffed and shrugged. “I was fine.”

The man sniffed, “I’m sure. Look, I’ll cut straight to the chase. You come highly recommended by my peers and I need help fast.” Logan nodded, motioning for him to continue. The man’s eyes lingered on his fists for a long while before he finished. “It’s my daughter. Things have been a little rough for her at school, for lack of a better word. Especially since this new campaign started. I just need someone to keep a closer eye on her.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, “She a party girl or something?” He wasn’t sure he could handle another bratty daddy’s girl again. The last one had nearly made him blow his brains out. They always think flipping their skirts up will let them get away with more and he can’t stand it. 

The man’s face blanched and he shook his head so vigorously that his jowls moved with him. “Oh, no, not at all. But she’s,” he paused and lowered his voice. He leaned in closer to Logan and waited for Logan to do the same. He rolled his eyes but did it anyway. “She’s like you, you know.”

Logan shot him a grin, “You mean a mutant.”

“Lower your voice,” he hissed, face tightening up in anger. “But, yes, a mutant. And I need one to guard her.” Ironic, this man was driving a campaign to make mutants second-class citizens, and his daughter was one. But Logan needed a check, he didn’t give a fuck about the morals of it all. 

“Sounds good to me.”

“Perfect, you can pick her up from school for me.”

You had your earbuds in, head lowered while you made the trek across campus when you noticed him. He was difficult to miss, tall and buff. Very buff, you’re surprised that tank top of his hasn’t ripped every time he flexes. 

Your dad’s newest campaign has you hyper-aware of your surroundings. You can’t afford to let your guard down. Not after the last attack. 

There’s something about this man that tells you he isn’t someone looking to jump you, though. You’re not sure what it is. Every part of him screams danger, but not the type you’re looking out for. The cigar perched between his lips, the glistening muscles you want to bite, he’s trouble. 

When you spot him outside your lecture hall for the third time that day, you finally figure out what’s happening. Your dad had told you he’d hired someone new to watch over you at school. You hadn’t voiced just how against it you were, but you didn’t like the idea. 

You didn’t mind this guy, though. He wasn’t busting into your classes and embarrassing the shit out of you by making everyone empty their pockets like the last guy. He just lingered. You could deal with lingering. 

What you couldn’t deal with was the way he was leaning against his motorcycle, smirking as you slowly approached him. 

“Did my dad hire you?” You call out, tugging your earbuds out. “Who are you?”

He speaks around the cigar like it's second nature. “Your new bodyguard, sweetheart.” You suck in a deep breath when you hear his voice. He’s extremely attractive, you're surprised your dad would risk this. 

One of the other ones had kind of gotten a little obsessed, stalking you even in his off hours. You didn’t think your dad would want another pretty boy around you. Though, you suppose this one isn’t pretty. He’s extremely handsome, ruggedly so, very manly. Jesus, you might end up being the stalker this time. 

His lips curl up like he knows what you’re thinking about. You clear your throat, shifting your backpack higher up your arm. “You planning on taking me home on that?” You ask, pointing at his bike. 

He straightens up and shrugs. “Got a problem with the bike?”

You grin, “Not really,” but your dad will. “No, not at all.”

You walk towards him and he reaches out, grabbing your backpack straps and tugging you towards him. You stumble, hands bracing against his chest so you don’t land flat on your face. “Sorry, kid,” but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. He buckles the straps of your backpack together and tightens them, puffing smoke in your face while he does. “Don’t want this flying off.”

“Mhm,” you hum. You’re not paying attention at all. The only thing you care about right now is just how ripped he is under your hands. You’re not sure how long you gawk at him but he seems to be ridiculously amused by it. 

“Ready to go home, or what?” You jump back from him, brushing your hands off on your leggings and clearing your throat. 

“Yes, yeah.” You rip your eyes off his body and instead focus on the bike. “No helmets?” You ask.

“You heal, don’t you?” You nod and he shrugs. “Don’t need them then, do we?”

You can’t help the giddy grin on your face at that. It’s gotten tiring being treated like glass. You’re about to get on the bike when you finally process what he said. “Wait, how do you know I heal?”

He doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, his gaze darts down to his fists. Your eyes widen when you see the metal poking through the skin. Of course, your father would only tell another mutant about his abomination of a daughter. You scoff and roll your eyes. He’s such a fucking hypocrite. 

Logan climbs on the bike and you follow after him. You're hesitant to wrap your arms around his waist but he just reaches behind himself and jerks you forward. 

You suck in a sharp breath, pelvis tight against his ass while he squeezes your hands. “You want to go flying?” You shake your head and he chuckles, starting the bike and driving off without another word. 

Part of you loves the ride home, the other part detests it. For once you get to experience a little freedom. You’re not trapped in a steel box staring at the back of a car seat while the man beside you pretends he doesn’t exist. 

You can feel the wind in your hair, get a taste of real speed, and enjoy a moment uninterrupted by someone’s expectations of you. On the other hand, Logan does not respect speeding laws. And healing abilities or not, you don’t actually want to experience road rash. 

He manages to get you home in one piece, parking the motorcycle in the driveway and waiting for you to get off. But you can’t, your thighs have been clenching the seat so tight you think they might need to scrape you off. 

“Kid?” He mutters. You shake your head against his back, arms still strangling his waist. It was actually kind of fucking terrifying being on one of these things. You can’t tell if you loved or hated it. 

He lets out a rough sigh, forcibly moving your arms and then tugging you off the seat. Your legs are like jello while you try and straighten out. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?” He asks. You can’t manage much more than a strangled hum and he laughs. 

You turn to your front door and spot a leering face peering out the window. “Shit,” you huff. Your stepmother sees you spot her and disappears from view. You feel your hopes of ever getting back on that bike go with her. 

“You took her home on your bike!”

“Well-”

You flinch at the volume of your father’s voice. “I don’t give a fuck what your excuse is! I will not have my daughter seen riding that monstrosity! You are not to do this again, do you understand me?”

You don’t know what Logan says, but you’re certain it’s not the submissive Yes, sir your father is looking for. He continues shouting at him for another ten minutes. When you hear the door to his office open you scramble to look like you hadn’t been listening in. 

But you’re a bad actress and if his huff of laughter is anything to go by, Logan knows what you were doing. “Did you know that was going to happen?” He asks, pointing back to your father’s, now closed, study. 

You nod, pursing your lips with an apologetic smile. “If it helps, I was really hoping he wouldn’t do that.”

He shrugs, “I don’t really give a fuck how much he wants to scream at me.” It’s refreshing, to finally have someone in the house who doesn’t kiss your father’s ass. It makes you smile, a real genuine smile for the first time in a while. 

You stand from the chair you’d been sitting in, gesturing further into your home. “Are you hungry? I haven’t eaten all day so I was thinking about making something.”

The smirk drops from his face, expression suddenly serious. It makes you tense up. “Look, I appreciate the offer, but I’m here to get paid. I don’t want to be your friend, kid.”

You suck in a sharp breath, trying not to let the rejection sting. He’s a professional, it should be a relief after the last one. “Right, yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that.”

He nods, “Right,” tone stiff. You stare at him for another awkwardly long moment before you finally turn on your heel and walk toward the kitchen. You rush there, speedwalking so you don’t have to look at him any longer. 

You open up your fridge, keeping your back to him for as long as humanly possible. You can hear him take a seat at the island, can feel the way his eyes bore into you. It’s a physical thing, his gaze, makes chills scrape their way down your spine. 

You make yourself a sandwich and finally force yourself to turn around. Like you’d expected, he’s already looking at you. Lips ticking up just slightly when you finally get the courage to look up at him. 

Logan feels a little guilty. You weren’t coming onto him earlier, you were being genuine with your kindness. He knows there were no ulterior motives to it and there’s a very slight part of him that feels bad for making you so quiet. “Why’s your dad so pissy about the bike?”

You’re a little startled by the question, after the comment he made you’d thought he wouldn’t want anything to do with you. You swallow down the rest of your bite and cough a little when the bread gets stuck on the roof of your mouth. 

“He doesn’t want me to crash.”

“But you heal,” he points out bluntly and you can’t help but laugh a little. 

“Yeah, that’s the problem. He doesn’t want me to crash and for someone to see that I miraculously healed. Having a freak for a daughter wouldn’t exactly help his campaign, would it?” You can’t even attempt to hide the bitterness in your voice. And you know Logan picks up on it because he doesn’t ask any more questions. 

Your gaze drops to your plate and you finish the rest of your meal in silence. Or, you try to. “Got any plans tonight?”

You chuckle and give him an odd look. “No,” you respond sardonically. “None at all, prepare yourself for a very boring job. I don’t even know why he hired you, I never leave the house unless it's for school.”

“Yeah?” he muses, but he doesn’t seem particularly interested. More like he’s talking just to pass the time. “I heard you’ve been having a hard time at school.”

You suck in a sharp breath, a sudden wave of anger roiling through your gut. The cabinets behind you begin to shake and you wince in embarrassment, tamping down on your powers before you accidentally blow up the kitchen. 

Logan watches the moment with subdued interest like he’s not all that surprised or impressed with the display. “Unless they were a PoliSci nerd, I was a nobody up until last year.” There’s no concealing the hate lurking within your words, “And then my dad took up this whole anti-mutant regime. Well, you can imagine how much the activists love me. I’ve just had a few incidents with some particularly passionate protestors.”

“Do you believe in it?”

Your eyes widen in surprise, you hadn’t expected him to actually continue the conversation. “What do you mean?”

He leans back, arms crossed across his chest in a way that makes his biceps bulge. He shrugs, “The anti-mutant regime, do you agree with it?”

You open your mouth, the perfected script almost rolling off your tongue. But this isn’t some politician's son you’re wooing. You’re not the perfect daughter, you’re in your own home, finally talking to someone else like you. 

“No.” You answer, voice strong in its conviction. “And every time I see one of his PAs running around with their little signs I want to ram the stick up their ass.”

He barks out a laugh, eyes crinkling up in amusement. “I think we might get along, kid.”

You try to ignore the way your cheeks warm at his words. You don’t want to be this affected by him, you’ve barely spoken to him. But this is the first person in a long time that you know with absolute certainty you can be honest with. He doesn’t care about protecting your political image or bowing to your father’s every whim. 

It’s a relief, like a constricting weight being taken off your chest. You give him an easy smile and get up to wash your dishes. His eyes are on you again but they feel less oppressive this time. You’ve already forgotten the rule he’s set in place, you’re not supposed to be friends. 

It’s going to be hard to remember that. 

Your father tightens his grip around your waist until you feel like you might squeal. “Smile, now.” You raise your hand, taking the stairs up the stage and waving out at the crowd that’s formed. It’s hot today, your makeup would be melting off if it weren’t for the artists who put it on for you. 

Always have to look good in front of the camera. All of you. Seeing Logan in a suit was certainly a surprise. You’re almost completely sure that your father had to give him a bonus to even consider wearing it today. 

He looks good, but you honestly prefer him in the normal beater and leather jacket. It’s something so uniquely him. This is just a reminder of your reality, that nothing around you is real. It’s all pretty lies wrapped up in expensive clothes. 

You have to bite your tongue and hold back a grimace when your father begins his speech. “First, we had to let them into our jobs. Now they’re in our schools! Our children aren’t safe, not when they’ve got loaded weapons sitting beside them! Because that’s exactly what they are, weapons of mass destruction that will take apart-”

“Fuck me,” you hiss under your breath. Your cheeks hurt from keeping this smile on your face. You’re struggling not to flinch every time the crowd surges up to agree with him, bigoted shouts making your ears bleed. 

Logan’s brows raise and he gives you a brief glance over his shoulder. Your face pinches in confusion only for a moment before you quickly correct it. Still, you keep your lips nearly completely motionless as you whisper, “Can you hear me?”

You dart your gaze back down to him and catch the barest of nods. Your smile softens, becoming something real if only for a moment. You don’t say anything else, you don’t need to. It’s just a comfort to know someone else is there with you, seeing through the painted faces and plastic smiles. 

There’s movement in the crowd. It cuts your father off midsentence. He peers over the podium, trying to get a better look at what’s happening. You hear someone scream and then the entire crowd is getting knocked to the ground. 

You jump back in shock, everyone on stage still. The security, however, is rushing to get to you and your family. It’s too late, though, there’s a mutant in the crowd and his eyes are set on you. “Fuck you,” he screams out your father's name and lugs something at the stage. 

You hear someone shout your name but it’s too late. Glass shatters against the side of your face. It takes less than a second for the pain to start. You can feel holes being burned through your skin, like living fire melting through your bones and gums. A scream rips out of your throat, your hands coming up to block your face too late. 

“Get her out of here!”

As agonizing as it is, you can already feel your skin working to mend itself. You can practically hear the flesh bonding back together. But the acid is dripping down you. It keeps moving steadily through your clothes and skin, your abilities on overdrive trying to repair the damage. 

You can’t focus on anything except the sensation of being burned alive. Suddenly, there’s an arm being thrown around your shoulder and you’re being lifted off your feet. Your skin scrapes against the rough material of someone’s blazer and it makes you grit your teeth and scream again. 

“I know, hold on kid, it’ll be over in a minute.” Logan rushes you behind the stage, where there are no cameras to watch you heal. You don’t know how your father’s PR team is going to spin this. Everyone saw it, saw the way your flesh bubbled and boiled. There’s no hiding the fact that half your face should be melted off. 

“Car,” you grunt out when he puts you on your feet again. 

His hands are clamped firmly around your shoulders, inspecting you for any further damage. “What?”

“We gotta get to the car,” the words are a struggle to get out. Your lungs constrict painfully in your chest while you force the rest out. “Can’t let them see.”

He looks pissed off that that's what you're worried about and not the fact that you were just attacked. Finally, after a minute of just staring at you, he nods. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and runs with you back to the limo. He throws the door open, pushing you inside and sliding in beside you. 

You take in a deep breath the second you’re no longer in view of the TV cameras. “Fuck,” you gasp out. Your dress is in tatters on your left side and you quickly cover your chest. You pray that you didn’t accidentally flash anything while you were still on stage. Your father would never forgive you for that. 

It’s silent in the car for a moment. You feel something being draped over your shoulder and look over to see Logan passing you his jacket. When he catches your gaze he gently grabs your jaw and titls your face towards his. 

His eyes rove over the left side of your face and he gives you a tight smile. “You’re fine, kid.”

You pull your chin out of his grip and pull his jacket closed around you. “See why my father wanted you around? How would he have ever explained his daughter surviving an acid attack?”

There’s something pinched in his gaze. A deep-seated irritation and something else you’re too tired to identify. He’s looking at you oddly and you wish he wouldn’t. You press your forehead to the cool glass of the window and slump against the car door. 

You don’t know when you fall asleep but by the time you wake up, Logan’s already carrying you up to your room. He sees you shift awake and places you on your feet. You steady yourself against the stair banister and walk the rest of the way to your room, trying to shake off the pain of the day. 

You look back just in time to see Logan at the front door. “Goodnight,” you call down to him. You know he can hear you, but he walks through the door without another word. You bite your lip, ignoring the sinking feeling of your gut. 

You toss your destroyed dress to the floor and turn your TV on. You surf through the channels for a bit before finding a clip of today’s incident. “-apparently part of a protest for mutants against the government. I don’t know Bill, they seem to just be proving everybody’s point. They are unsafe.”

“I agree, my thoughts and prayers go out to…”

You roll your eyes as they say your name. They’re saying it wasn’t acid, instead it’s some sort of chemical compound that causes extreme pain. Even you don’t believe that bullshit. You have a feeling your father is going to be looking for a new PR team tomorrow. 

Your attention is snagged by the replay of the accident. You don’t focus on the acid, you don’t want to. Instead, you see how quickly Logan rushed to your side. He seemed to be right there even as the acid was being thrown. 

Your brows pinch together and you glance at the jacket beside you. He’d forgotten to take it back before he left. You pick it up, eyes skating over the fabric before you find what you’re looking for. There’s a large hole in the right sleeve, acid having burned through it. 

You hadn’t even realized he was in pain. You know he can heal, but it doesn’t get rid of the fluttering feeling in your stomach. You’ve never had someone look after you like that. 

You grin to yourself, tucking the jacket in the back of your closet. You’re sure he wouldn’t want it back and you’re not planning on parting with it anytime soon. 

You’re on house arrest for a week after the acid incident. Which includes no school. Your father has to play into the idea that you’re recovering from the trauma and healing. You don’t know how much longer he’s planning on keeping you locked up but you’re going stir crazy. 

Not only do you not get to go to classes, but Logan isn’t around either. He doesn’t need to be, not when the only place you’re in is your room. He’s not a friend, he’s made that clear, but he’s something. And you are desperately craving that specific something. 

“It was a sickening attack against my daughter that my wife and I are still trying to recover from.” You roll your eyes as you listen to your father spew his bullshit to the interviewer in the next room. 

You’re not allowed to be out and about, of course. You can’t risk someone seeing you. But that doesn’t stop you from lurking. 

“It was an incredibly traumatic experience for her, I’m sure.” You grin to yourself, picking at your nails. You like this one, whoever the reporter is interviewing him. She hasn’t let him catch a break. Especially not when he tries to capitalize on your trauma. Even though he hasn’t checked in once with you. 

“Well,” he splutters for a moment. “Yes, of course,” he tries to sound humble but anyone can tell he’s just covering his ass. “And it just further proves what I’ve always said about mutants. They are animals, they’re not like us.”

You’d think at a certain point you’d go numb to it. You’ve been raised hearing this rhetoric from him all your life. But the sting never eases. That cloying ache in your chest never quite leaves you. Not when you know the only reason he publicly accepts you is for political gains. So everyone can see what a wonderful father he is and vote for him.

You feel sick to your stomach and you don’t think you can listen to much more of this. But right as you’re about to tap out a hand clamps down on your shoulder. You nearly scream but you catch a whiff of the man’s aftershave and your mouth snaps shut. 

You leap out of your chair and whip around, a grin plastered on your face. “Logan, what are you doing here?” You can’t disguise the giddiness in your voice. He might constantly be reminding you that you hold nothing more than a professional relationship, but you don’t give a shit. He’s a constant in your life and that’s rare for you, so you’ll latch onto whatever comfort you can find. 

His gaze briefly darts to the connecting wall to your father’s study and you flush. He’d probably heard all of that. You’ve never had someone see the side of your father that you do. There’s something shamefully embarrassing about it. 

He looks back at you and gives you a sly smirk. “Wanna get out of here?” You’d have to be an idiot to say no.

“Uh,” you can hear the music from where you stand across the street. You shuffle uncertainly on your feet beside Logan, glancing up and down the sidewalk like your father’s going to pop out of an alleyway. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”

Logan tugs his cigar out of his mouth. He’s leaned up against a lamppost and he’s watched you struggle for the past ten minutes. “Live a little kid, would ya?”

You look back at the dingy bar and grimace. “Okay, there’s a difference between living a little and having my face blasted on the news. How’s it going to look if I’m photographed at a bar while I’m meant to be healing?”

Logan points with his cigar to the entrance of the bar. “I can promise you, no one in there gives a fuck about who your daddy is.” Comforting, and a little humbling. 

You take in a deep breath and Logan must sense the change in your demeanor. He flicks the cigar to the ground, crushing it with the heel of his boot. He holds his arm out, “Ready, kid?”

You nod, hurrying to his side and slipping under his grasp. He lets his arm hang heavily around your shoulder, hand squeezing your bicep gently to try and quell your nerves. You’d be swooning at the touch if you weren’t about to throw up from anxiety. 

You used to have a life. Until your father had blown it up. You haven’t been around this many people in ages. Well, you haven’t been around people who are just having fun and not sucking up to every politician’s kid they meet. 

The music gets louder as you step over through the threshold of the bar. The soles of your shoes stick to the floor. People laugh loudly all around you, some of them shouting up at TV screens for whatever sport is currently playing. You’re sure half of them don’t even normally watch the game. They just need an excuse to get their wives off their backs. 

The thought brings a small smile to your lips. Logan glances down at you and frowns, “You are old enough to drink, aren’t you?”

You roll your eyes and move out from under his hold. “Yes, Logan. I’m going into a master’s program, my frontal lobe is fully formed.”

He huffs a little at the attitude, cheeks twitching with a suppressed smile. He nods towards the back of the bar, “Find a seat, I’ll get us drinks.” He walks towards the bar without another word and you resent him a little for it. 

Without him beside you, it’s like everything comes crashing down all at once. The songs playing grate on your ears. Every laugh feels like they’re screaming in your face. You’ve never been more in tune with your sense of smell and you hate it. 

Your hands tremble by your sides and you nearly miss the man in front of you spilling his beer down his shirt. It looks completely unnatural, the way it just flips out of his hand. And you know it’s your doing. 

You shove through him and his friends, running to the back and sliding into the first booth you see. You dig your nails into your palms, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm your heart rate down a bit. 

Logan slides into the seat across from you, placing a beer in front of you. It’s barely touched the grimy wood of the table before you tip your head back and drain it. You’ve never been a particular fan of beer or any alcohol for that matter. 

But right now you need a buzz before you accidentally level the whole bar. You slam the bottle back on the table, taking in a deep breath, and sitting back. Logan gives you a hard stare, glancing between you and the empty bottle. 

He clicks his tongue and stands up, “I’ll go get another one.”

You bite your lip and give him a sheepish, “Thank you.”

It doesn’t take long for the buzz to settle in. There’s a slight tingling in your legs and the tips of your fingers. It almost feels like how you get when you’re starting to get aroused. But you don’t know if that’s from the alcohol or the way Logan looks in his slutty little t-shirt. 

Definitely tipsy, you think to yourself, nudging your third beer to the side. 

“Always been a lightweight?” He teases, watching you with amusement in his gaze while he works on what must be his fifth whiskey. 

You shake your head with a soft smile. “No, I used to go out with my friends all the time.” You laugh a little at the memories and lean in a little closer like you’re sharing some horrible secret. Logan rolls his eyes but acquiesces, leaning in to listen to you speak. “We made up alter egos for our drunk selves. Wanna know mine?” You ask, wiggling your eyebrows at him with a stupid grin.

His brows pinch together and he frowns, “I don’t think so.”

You laugh and lean back in your seat. “You’re the worst!” He places his glass down on the table and fixes you with an odd look. You shift around uncomfortably, “What is it?”

“What happened to your friends? Why are you hanging out with me and not them?”

“Oh,” your gaze drops to the table and you suddenly find the stains on it very interesting. It’s practically abstract art. You swallow harshly around the lump in your throat and shrug. “Um, just all the stuff with my dad happened, and,” you shrug, “I don’t know. My life kind of fell apart.”

You try and shake off the funk, bring back the happy-go-lucky feeling you were in only minutes ago. “I had to move out of the dorms and head back home. My friends stopped talking to me. My boyfriend dumped me. It all just kind of blew up.”

Logan frowns and you swear he seems angry on your behalf. It’s a nice feeling, having someone care enough to hold a grudge for you. “You ever tell him how it was all affecting you?”

You snort, “Of course I did. He was overjoyed. He never liked my friends, especially not my boyfriend, they encouraged me to be too independent. He thought I was losing the values he raised me with. He just never cared to learn that I never agreed with them in the first place.”

Logan doesn’t say anything for a while and you let your gaze drift to the karaoke stage. Two women are singing a bad redemption of Led Zeppelin and it makes you smile. You don’t see the way Logan’s eyes linger on the curve of your lips and then drop to your chest. 

You never seem to notice how you make him squirm. There is something so interesting about you. Something so different from the families he worked with before. He doesn’t know if it's the whole mutant thing, if you two are somehow kindred spirits in that regard. He doubts it, he’s never really cared much about that. 

But he knows that there is something magnetic about you. It draws him in and makes him hate his own rules. He promised not to get involved with another client. It always ends messy, most times bloody. 

You turn back to him and smile. Your voice is a low purr as you ask, “You wanna get out of here?”

Of course, he’s never been one to follow the rules. 

“I am so sorry about this. Really.” 

Logan glares down at you while you straighten out his tie. You duck your head so you don’t have to meet his gaze and he lets out a long-suffering sigh. 

“Forget it, kid.” He says it with a smirk but it doesn’t make you feel any less guilty. 

This will be your first public appearance since the incident. It’s a gala, of course, because your father hates you. He’d demanded you find a date, someone to look pretty on your arm because he doesn’t want you talking while you’re there. You’re meant for pictures and nothing more. 

Considering the fact that no one wants to talk to you on campus, the acid incident not helping at all, you had no luck finding a date. You’d had to beg on hands and knees for days to get Logan to agree. 

You don’t know what it is that finally made him cave but you’re grateful for it. You think your father was expecting you to fail. To come crawling to him and be forced to go with who he wanted you to go with. 

You were not going to spend the whole night listening to some political major try and explain your own father’s campaign to you. You’d rather swallow acid than go through that for another night. Your father, of course, doesn’t know that Logan is taking you. 

You’re planning on ambushing him with it. He can’t do anything about it now. He wants you to have a date for some reason and there’s no way for him to find a backup now. You take a step back from him and turn to look in the mirror. 

Side by side, you do make an incredibly attractive couple. He looks amazing in his suit, his muscles just slightly pushing against the fabric. And as much as he hates the tie and constricting material, he makes it work. 

And you feel pretty for the first time in a long time. You actually got to do your own hair and makeup for once. You’re a lot less heavy-handed than the assistants your father hires. You feel comfortable in your own skin, finally, wearing the deep red dress your stepmother had gotten for you. 

“We look good,” you muse. 

Logan looks down at you and smiles slightly, “You do.”

You give him a confused grin, “I said we.”

He leans down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers, “I know what you said, sweetheart.” Your heart nearly beats out of your chest at the proximity. Gooseflesh raises on your arms where he’s touching you and your knee buckles ever so slightly. 

You can perfectly imagine his husky voice whispering something much, much dirtier to you. He pulls back with a slight chuckle and forcefully turns you around. “Come on, kid, we’re gonna be late.”

He nudges you towards your bedroom door and you nod your head mutely. He keeps doing that to you. These little things that could be so easily dismissed as you reading into his actions. But you know, deep down, you’re not reading into anything. 

But you don’t know what to do with this information that he might possibly be into you. Or at the very least, attracted to you. He made it clear early on that he wants nothing but professionalism between the two of you, yet he continually breaks his own rule. 

Your father and stepmother are waiting at the bottom of the stairs for you both. Your stepmother smiles when she sees you but your father’s face screws up in anger. “Are you fucking kidding me? The goddamn bodyguard?”

You shrug and slip past him, already walking to the front door. “A date’s a date.” You pause and grin over at him, “What are you going to do about it?” It’s a taunt, one you don’t give him a chance to respond to. 

You’re already slipping outside and heading to the town car. Something about Logan being with you emboldens you to act in ways you never would. Even when he’s not there, when you’re just having family dinner and your father says something off-putting. You fight back, you don’t let him steamroll you and your opinions. 

You feel better than you have in ages with Logan beside you. Still, the ride there is incredibly awkward. 

The hotel is grand and luxurious. But they all are. You feel guilty complaining about your life when this is your weekend. What do you have to be upset about when you regularly stay in five-star motels and wear designer dresses without glancing at the price tag?

Sometimes you feel guilty around Logan. You wonder if he ever resents you for your privilege. You might be a mutant like him, sure, but you’ve never had to struggle to make ends meet. Or try and scrap together enough money to get your next meal. You’ve never had to worry about where you’re going to sleep next or if you’ll have a roof over your head. 

Your struggles have been so different that you worry if something ever did happen between the two of you, you might not work together. 

But those are spiraling thoughts for another time. Right now, you’re just trying to get through the front door without someone bombarding your father with questions on his stance about whatever. 

When it’s clear that he’s going to be there for a while, he sends you and Logan off to the ballroom on your own. You feel bad for your stepmother, having to stay behind and pretend she’s interested as they bore her with stories that have no real meaning. 

“Poor woman,” you mutter, watching her struggle to keep the smile on her face. 

“You don’t call her mom,” Logan muses. You turn to look at him and he just shrugs. “Just a little weird.”

“Well, she’s not my mom.” His head tilts in confusion and you elaborate. “My bio mom left the second she figured out she gave birth to a mutant. We lie to the public, stepmom’s interfere with the perfect nuclear family ideal my dad’s pushing for.”

“If he cares so much about family then why don’t you have your dad’s last name?” A good question, one you had to field a lot when you first started school. 

You give him a sly grin, “Took my mom's maiden name the second I was eighteen, just to piss him off.” There’s no true reason behind it other than being vindictive and petty. “He’s been trying to get me to change it for years but he can’t force me to. Besides, I like having my name separate from theirs. Lets me pretend I’m not a part of the family. Don’t get me wrong, she’s nice and all, we just never really had the chance to bond.”

Someone passes by you. A couple you know you’re supposed to recognize but you can’t place their names. The man calls out your name, coming toward you with his arms open wide. You can see Logan tense up slightly beside you, bodyguard instincts coming out for a moment. 

You squeeze his hand briefly before stepping forward to hug the man. “So nice to see you, again.” You tell him. He grins and squeezes you a little closer to his chest than necessary. 

Logan clears his throat, glaring at the man’s drifting hands. Before either of you can react, Logan is pulling you back, hand resting lightly over the small of your back. He holds his hand out, forcing the man to shake his hand and take his attention off of you.

You can’t hold back the smile on your lips when you see how much smaller the man is under Logan’s intense stare. You’ve gotten used to the men at these events treating you however they want. They don’t see you as a human, you are your father’s accessory and their toy. You envy Logan for how easily he can dismiss these men, take away their larger-than-life personalities, and reduce them to the sniveling rats they truly are. 

He doesn’t even speak, simply tugs you towards the ballroom and away from the man’s wandering hands. You can’t help the stupid smile on your face while you look at him. He glances out the side of his eye and huffs, “What?” He snaps, tone impatient. 

You shrug and shake your head. “Nothing, you’re just…” You trail off, unsure how to continue. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable by telling him how you really feel about him. How deeply you appreciate him, how horribly you desire him. You’re afraid it will all just blow up in your face. That you’ll have truly been reading into everything and gotten his intentions all wrong. After all, he’s made it abundantly clear that there’s meant to be nothing between the two of you except a paycheck. 

You take in a deep breath, smile faltering, “Nothing.” You finally spit out, slipping out of his grasp and walking quicker towards the doors. His hand lingers on your back, fingers trailing slowly down your spine until you’re completely out of his reach. 

The chatter inside gets louder the closer you get to the entrance. You listen to the indiscernible voices, the quartet playing in the corner, and the clink of metal on the glass as they all eat. You straighten out your shoulders and put on your best smile, mentally preparing yourself to keep it stiff on your cheeks for the rest of the night. 

Logan catches up to you, the both of you stopping the second you see the inside of the ballroom. 

People Against Mutants

Evolution or Monstrosities

Parents for the Removal of Mutant Children

Your eyes widen as you take in the banners and signs hanging off the walls. More and more uncreative rhetoric all for the annihilation of mutants. Of people like you and Logan. Your smile drops immediately and you know you should have expected something like this from your father. He’d been refusing to tell you what this gala was for, saying offhandly he was just raising some money. 

You thought it was another charity. Not this. Not people, quite literally, calling for your head. For Logan’s head. You suck in a sharp breath and glance towards the silent man beside you. His jaw is clenched as he takes in all the finely dressed people around you. They’re all laughing and chatting like they’re not actively campaigning for the destruction of children. 

“Bar?” You ask, already walking towards it. 

“Sounds good to me.” His hand is on your back again and you’re grateful for it. The glower on his face, the attitude that screams I don’t belong here keeps people away from you. He shoulders through the men huddling around the bar, forcefully clearing space for the two of you. 

And when they turn around, posturing like they’re going to say something, he only has to look at them for them to retreat with their tails tucked. It’s ridiculously attractive seeing someone command these men so easily. 

“Whiskey,” Logan grumbles, he looks back at you and you slide beside him, leaning your elbows against the cool counter. 

“Just champagne, please,” you tell the bartender. He nods, quickly making your drinks and handing them to you. You turn with the flute in your hand, surveying the room. It feels less like a gala and more like a production of false niceties that will never end and never be genuine. 

“Don’t know how you deal with these fuckers all the time,” Logan mutters, glaring as a man slams into him and keeps walking without apologizing. 

You let out a short huff of laughter, “Honestly,” he glances over at you and you shrug. “I’ve got no fucking clue either.” He scoffs and takes a swig from his glass. But you can’t take your eyes off of him. You feel the words on the tip of your tongue, weighing you down until you feel like you have no choice but to spit them out. 

“You,” his brows quirk up and he glances over at you. You take in a deep breath and start over, nerves making your palms sweaty around the glass. “You make it bearable.”

Logan’s face falls and he sucks in a deep breath. You see the expression on his face, you know what he’s going to tell you. And you hate how apologetic he looks. You especially despise the way he’s making you feel pitied. He’s never done that before and you don’t want him to start now. 

“Don’t,” you tell him before he can say anything. You let out a self-deprecating laugh and place the champagne flute on the bar so you don’t have to look at him. “I know what you’re going to say, alright. So, just, don’t.”

Logan purses his lips and grabs your jaw. You try and jerk your face out of his grasp but he doesn’t let you, he forces you to look at him. He only lets go once you reluctantly make eye contact. You’re surprised by the look on his face. There’s no pity in his gaze like you’d expected. 

This is something else, something darker and more twisted. You can’t put your finger on what exactly you’re seeing but you know it makes your heart race and your thighs clench. “Listen, sweetheart, I-”

“What the hell are you doing?” You jump away from him but Logan just clenches his eyes shut with a short huff of irritated breath. You clear your throat and turn to face your father. He’s glaring between you and Logan, but smiles warmly anytime someone looks your way. “I didn’t bring you here so my contributors could see what a fucking whore you are for the help.”

“Dad!” You exclaim, eyes widening in horror. But Logan doesn’t seem bothered by your father’s words. If anything it seems to incense him, his hand drifting from your jaw to drape itself over the nape of your neck. You try not to show just how much the possessive grip is affecting you but you know they can both tell. 

Your father’s face pinches and he nearly stomps his foot as he looks between you and Logan. He looks like he wants to say something else but your stepmother, thankfully, calls his name. She waves him over towards her and you hold your breath, waiting to see what he’s going to do. 

He takes in short puffs of air, straightening out his suit jacket and glaring at you. “You’re not going to be a fucking wallflower all night, got it?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s stomping off. He calls out a warm greeting to someone across the room and you feel like you can finally breathe again. 

You give Logan a tired smile and nod towards the rest of the party. “Time to mingle.”

He laughs, loudly, enough to make people’s heads turn. You can feel your skin heating up from embarrassment and flinch away from the sound. “Sorry, kid, mingling ain’t part of my contract.”

Your jaw drops as you glare at him. “Are you serious?”

He turns back to the bar, flagging down the bartender for a refill. “Deadly,” he tells you firmly, barely looking at you. You roll your eyes and walk away from him, glaring at his back the whole time you do so. 

He thought coming to one of these things, being stuffed in a scratchy suit, would be his worst nightmare. He was proven wrong when he heard them talking to each other. Bitching about golf and their mistresses wanting more attention. Their kids nagging them and their wives being bitches. 

All of it made him want to down a whole bottle of whiskey and then blow his brains out. His worst nightmare turned into ever having to hold a conversation with one of these pricks. 

Then, he turns around, surveying the room for wherever you were lurking. He expects you to be by your father’s side or hiding somewhere in a corner. Instead, you’re standing close -extremely close - to some pretty boy. 

His hand is on your waist and you’re laughing at whatever boring fucking story he’s telling you. Logan tries to pick up on your conversation but there are too many things happening at once already. His senses are on overdrive and he’s already struggling against a migraine. 

He feels something brewing in his gut, something he’s been trying to just shove down for months. He doesn’t know what it is he hates about this picture but it makes him sick to his stomach. He hears something crack and looks down to find the glass of whiskey split on one side. 

“Shit,” he hisses, slamming the glass on the bar behind him. He shakes his hand out and tries to unclench his fists but it’s hard. He couldn’t have possibly been standing here long enough for you to suddenly find the love of your life. Why the fuck are the two of you so close?

This was so unlike you. Rarely did you ever have something good to say about the men you would encounter at these things. He’d heard you bitch about it enough times. Something about this isn’t adding up and he doesn’t know if it’s his own jealousy or intuition. 

Still, he finds himself pushing away from the bar and stalking towards you both. Closer, he can finally see what the problem is. Your hands are on the guy's chest but you aren’t leaning against him, you’re actively trying to push him away. 

It makes Logan’s blood boil, jaw clenching as he tries to keep himself at bay. He didn’t want to cave some kid’s head in in the middle of the gala. But the closer he got the clearer he could hear your hissed warnings to take his hands off of you. 

Logan finally reaches you and the look of sheer relief on your face makes him want to bring the claws out. He’d love to see that smug smirk ripped off his face, but he holds back. If only so he doesn’t traumatize you. 

“Alright, bub, hands off,” he warns. 

“Why don’t you just leave us alone?” He had to give it to the kid, he’s got balls. Rarely did anyone ever buck up to him like this. Normally, he might entertain him a bit, drag this on longer than necessary to get a kick out of it. 

But he still hasn’t taken his hands off of you and Logan’s not interested in fucking around tonight. Without a word, he grabs the kid by the collar of his jacket and tosses him away from you. 

He lands roughly on the floor with a loud gasp and people turn to look. Logan pays no mind to the onlookers. He places his hand on your back and leads you out of the ballroom, unwilling to have eyes on you for the rest of this conversation. 

“Logan,” you start, tone nervous. 

“Don’t,” he snaps. He regrets it immediately from the way you jump in surprise. He lets out a rough sigh, running his hand down his face, and walks through the first door he finds. “I’m sorry, kid, I just-”

“Logan,” you cut him off. The tone of your voice is enough to get him to finally look at you. Your arms are crossed and you’re glaring at him. “Why the fuck did you drag us into a closet?”

His brows furrow in confusion and he glances around, finally realizing what he walked into, “Fuck,” he hisses. He gropes blindly around the room for a light switch. There’s a small click and then an unflattering fluorescent light is shining down on you both. He’s managed to drag you both into a small, incredibly cramped, cleaning closet.  

You’re grimacing as you push a few mops away from your head. You look over at him and something about the look on his face must be funny because you start to laugh. “What were you thinking?”

Your smile makes one curl up on his own lips. He can’t help it, something about you eases a bit of the tightness constantly lurking inside him. “Thought it was one of those stuffy conference rooms.”

You scoff and reach for the handle, “Just a stuffy closest, good going, Logan.” You roll your eyes and tug on the knob. Your brows furrow together as you jiggle the handle every which way, desperately pulling on it. 

“Move over,” Logan mutters, nudging you to the side. He wraps his hand around the handle and yanks on it, expecting the door to swing open. When it doesn’t his face falls. 

“Did you miraculously unlock it, genius?” You demand sarcastically. Logan feels his shoulders tense up, frustration levels steadily rising. He’s already got a shit temper, he doesn’t need you adding to this. 

“No,” he snipes, “but I don’t see you coming up with any wonderful solutions.”

You throw your hands up in the air, wincing when your elbow collides with the shelving unit behind you. “I didn’t drag us into this mess! Why did you even come in here?” You demand and he can see how angry you are. 

It shows in the way you tapped your heeled feet against the floor and glower at him like he’s the bane of your existence. He doesn’t know what happens, what comes over him, or why this is the moment he chooses to break his rule. 

Your back slams into the shelves behind you and you gasp as he surges towards you. His hands come up to cup your cheeks and before you get a chance to question him, his mouth is covering your own. Logan buries his hand in your hair, ruining the perfectly styled curls. You don’t seem to mind much if the way you arch into him is anything to go by. 

His tongue runs across the seam of your lips, tasting the cherry-flavored gloss you’d applied earlier. He wants to devour you. Consume you body and soul, take everything you have to give, and then keep going. He doesn’t want to stop, but he’s not sure he wants the first place you have sex to be in a janitor’s closet. 

He pulls back, tugging you back when you try to chase his lips with your own. “Shouldn’t do this here,” he mutters. He’s struggling to hold back. And when you look up at him, lips swollen from his kiss, and you mutter why, how is he meant to resist?

He tugs you away from the shelves, pushing you against the door so he doesn’t have to see your face twist up in pain every time the corner digs into your lower back. Your hands drop down to his belt, lips desperately carving a path down his neck. 

He’d laugh at your eagerness if he wasn’t just as desperate for you. He reaches for the hem of your dress but it’s one of those floor-length gowns with no slits. He struggled for a minute before getting too impatient and just muttering, “Fuck it.”

You gasp when you feel the metal of his claw against your leg, eyes dropping down to watch as he makes himself a slit. He slices the fabric along your thigh and then just rips it. “Logan,” you hiss as he hikes the silk over your hips. 

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” You glare at him, eyes darting between him and his pants before you finally shake your head. He laughs slightly, hand drifting under your dress and reveling in the way you shiver under his touch. “Yeah,” he whispers, “that’s what I thought.”

His fingers move gently along your thighs, easing you into his touch. You let out breathy whimpers, tucking your face in his neck the closer he gets to your core. He lets his hand drift lower, searching out the band of your underwear. 

He’s pleasantly surprised when he’s met with nothing but you dripping for him. “Shit, you’re not wearing any underwear?”

You freeze and keep your face stubbornly buried in his neck. Logan laughs slightly, tugging you back and forcing you to look up at him. You mumble something under your breath. It’s said so quickly he can barely understand you. “What was that?”

“Ugh, god, Logan.” You groan and let your eyes drop down to his shirt, fiddling with the end of his tie. “I was hoping this would happen.”

When he doesn’t say anything your face shifts, worry gnawing away at you. You glance up at him and are surprised by the intensity of his gaze. He’s staring down at you like he wants to eat you whole. His pupils have consumed all the color of his eyes, there’s nothing but want on his face. 

“You wanna know why I agreed to come with you, kid?”

Your mind is completely dulled just by being this close to him. It takes you a moment to process what he’s saying before you nod your head. “Why?”

The look on his face reminds you of a wolf guarding its territory. It’s predatorial, animalistic, it makes you want him even more. “I didn’t want any of these little boys getting a chance to have their hands on you.” His gaze drops down to your lips and he leans in until your breaths are mingling together. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.” He dips his head down and his kiss isn’t as intense as it was the first time. His lips move lazily over your own, tongue stroking against yours like he’s savoring the taste. 

You can taste the whiskey he’d drank earlier, can still smell cigars on his breath. It should be revolting, you’ve never liked kissing smokers. But there is something so intoxicating about him. Everything he does is enchanting to you. 

It’s a naive train of thought but you trust him wholly. He could do whatever he wanted to you and you’d let him willingly. His hands continue their exploration down your body and you can’t help but arch into his touch. His fingers stroke languidly over your center and you moan into his mouth. 

Your lips part with little gasps and your head thunks loudly against the door. Neither of you notice or care, you’ve all but forgotten the gala outside. The government employees and rich socialites that you’re supposed to be entertaining. 

And when he slips a finger inside you, you don’t care who hears you call out his name. The rough pad of his finger creates a feeling you’ve never been able to produce on your own. There’s something so exhilarating about this whole situation. 

Stuck in this tiny closet, no air to breathe but each other’s. No room for anything other than your bodies pressed as closely together as possible. You're completely surrounded by him and you never want to leave. 

“Logan,” you gasp out his name and shove at his shoulders. He momentarily stops his ministrations, giving you a worried look. “Please, I just want you.” You tug at his wrist, hissing when his fingers leave you with a lewd pop. 

He looks hesitant, but you can see the way he’s straining against his boxers. You let your hand trail down his stomach, palming him through the thin fabric. His hips buck into your hands and he lets out the most attractive noise you’ve ever heard. You’ve always liked guys who aren’t afraid to be vocal. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers. He swats your hands to the sides, tugging his boxers down and squeezing your hips hard enough to bruise. “Come on, up.”

You jump and he slings your legs around his waist, lining himself up with your entrance. He drags you slowly down his cock, resting your back against the door and giving a hesitant thrust inside you. 

You can’t help the low groan that leaves your parted lips. It’s like you’re full of nothing but him. You’d been mentally prepared for the stretch he would present, but you probably should have given him more time to warn you up. 

You don’t care though, this is all you’ve been craving for months. To feel nothing, taste nothing but him. You’ve been praying that he feels the same way you do, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he does. 

He looks completely wrecked, head resting on your shoulder while you both take a breath. It’s overwhelming, this feeling of finally having what you’ve always wanted. Someone you can give yourself to completely and still feel safe with them. 

You drag your hand up his back, burying it in his hair and reveling in how soft it is. You tug him back by the roots, tilting his neck until he’s forced to look at you. Your gaze drops to his reddened lips and you smile at the gloss you’ve smeared across his chin. 

“Come on, Logan, don’t tell me you’re all talk.”

His eyes narrow but you can see the amusement swimming within them. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“Oh, yeah?” You goad, grinding your hips down against his and biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. You’re trying not to make a noise, trying to make sure he doesn’t see just how much he’s affecting you. But you can already feel your orgasm forming, it’s a low tingle in the tips of your toes, a burning hot desire rushing through your thighs as you clench around him. 

“Yeah,” he promises, thrusting sharply into you. This time the moan is forced out of you, your lips parting unbidden as you slump over him, burying your face in his neck. He doesn’t waste any time, using your hips as handles to pump you over his cock like you’re nothing more than a toy. 

The door rattles behind you, each thrust of his hips makes it shake in its frame. His hands fist the back of your dress, grip so tight you think it might tear. You don’t care. He could rip it off of you and you’d walk outside naked right now. 

You don’t care what happens, not when he’s beside you. There’s a feeling of security that comes from being around Logan and you can feel it in this moment. You trust him to take care of you in every way. 

Maybe you shouldn’t. After all, you two haven’t known each other long. But there’s not much you’re worried about when he’s moving steadily inside you. You can taste the desperation you share for each other in each pump of his hips. 

He whispers it into your ear while you claw at his back. The shelves around you shake and you worry you might bring them down if you can’t rope yourself in. But you can feel the wave building in the back of your throat, your vision blurring as you tighten your legs around his waist and begin to match his rhythm. 

“There you go,” he mutters, pinning you to the door and keeping your hips still while he moves inside you. “Come on, I can feel you clenching around me, sweetheart.” He manages to hold you up with one hand, the other diving between your legs to rub tight circles around your bundle of nerves. 

It doesn’t take much longer for your muscles to seize up, back bowing as you clench desperately around him. “Oh, fuck, Logan,” you shout his name, and his hand quickly comes up to smother your cries. He squeezes your cheeks until your eyes snap open and he drags you down to meet his gaze. 

“Don’t want to lose my job, need you to be quiet for me,” he grunts out, his tone breathy and strained. He loses his rhythm, movements speeding up erratically while he lets out low groans and whispers of your name. You almost cum again when he finally finishes inside you. 

Your limbs are twitching in overstimulation by the time his hips still. You feel completely boneless, body slumped lazily in his arms. He wraps both arms around you, squeezing you a little before slowly lifting you off of him. 

It’s a relief of pressure when he pulls out. His cum leaks out of you, dribbling down your thighs and dripping onto the floor of the closest. Your face screws up at the feeling and you internally cringe. No condom was probably a stupid call.

But you don’t really want to think about the repercussions right now. Not when he’s stroking your hair and rubbing a soothing hand down your back, waiting until you can form a coherent sentence before he lets you go. “Alright?” He asks, voice bordering on something smug. 

“Mhm,” you push away from him, legs shaky as you try and straighten out your dress. It’s a loss cause, trying to hide what happened in here at all. You’ve got a tear going up to your hip and you’re pretty sure there are holes in the back. Logan’s tie is gone and you don’t even remember taking that off. His shirt is completely wrinkled and your lip gloss has stained his face. 

You’ve both got horrific sex hair and the room reeks of it. You don’t know how you're going to sneak out of here. You still try and relax your hair, patting down the flyaways while Logan retucks his shirt. 

It’s silent between the two of you, heavy but not awkward. You don’t think either of you knows what to say now that you’ve physically acted on what you want. A sudden thought hits you, makes your heart clench painfully and your tongue ties up in your mouth. 

He’d confirmed that he wanted your body. That he desired you sexually. But you don’t think he actually said anything about a real relationship. There would be problems, of course, your father for one would have a lot to say about it. But you don’t care about that. You don’t care about any of the consequences, you just want to be with him. 

You open your mouth to ask him what he wants when the door swings open. Both you and Logan whip towards it. But where you look like a deer caught in the headlights he looks like the epitome of male pride. 

Especially when he realizes it's your father on the other side. “Dad-” You start, but you have no idea what you could even say. Your dress is in tatters and both you and Logan are still mussed up. There’s no hiding what happened here. 

He doesn’t let you finish, holding up his hand. His voice is eerily calm as he says, “I thought I heard something banging around in here.”

“You did,” Logan scoffs, crossing his arms and glaring at your father. You feel your heart jump to your throat, staring over at him with a horrified look on your face. How could he think that was okay to say? It was so dismissive of what you believed had happened. 

This was more than just a quickie in the dark to you. This meant something, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that it was the same for him as it was for you. And that just makes you feel like the stupid little girl everyone seems to believe you are. 

Your father says your name but you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye. “You’re feeling sick,” he tells you, no room for argument. “Your date had to take you home. It was just too much too soon after the incident at the rally.” When you don’t say anything he shouts out, “Understood?” That makes you jump. 

“Yes,” you clear your throat and face him. “Yes, understood.”

Your father has made his stance on mutants clear. He hates them, despises them to their very being, and wishes he could kill every last one. And as much as you were raised with those ideas, they were never truly turned on you.

But he’s looking at you right now like he wishes you were never born. You feel like shit on his shoe. Something to be hidden away and buried. It makes your shoulders slump like a hundred pounds was just tossed onto your back. 

You try to run past him but he jerks you back, fingers so tight around your bicep you feel the skin tear. You gasp in pain but don’t say anything, too afraid to argue. “Put his jacket on, I won’t have you looking like a whore.” He releases you with a rough shove and storms off. 

You can feel something burning at the back of your eyes. A moment later Logan drops his jacket over your shoulders, pulling you back into his chest and running his hands over your arms. “Come on, kid,” he mutters. There’s something resigned in his voice that makes your heart drop, “Let’s get you home.”

The walk through the lobby feels like you’re walking through a dream. You’re not completely present for it, or the ride home. Your mind and your heart are warring and you feel like you’re going to be torn apart if you keep lingering on what just happened. 

You just can’t understand how you could go from having everything you wanted to feeling like the scum of the earth in less than two minutes. Logan doesn’t speak as he drives you home. His knuckles are turning white around the steering wheel and you’re afraid to even try and start a conversation. 

You don’t want to hear him tell you that he didn’t desire you past your body. You don’t want to discover that you’re just another notch on his belt. He seems to do this a lot, sleep with the girls he guards. The idea of just being another job, another fun night, makes you absolutely disgusted with yourself. 

When he pulls into the driveway of your house you both just sit in the car. Neither of you knows what to say. And the air between you is so thick with tension you feel like you could choke on it. You stare down at your hands, fingers fiddling with the ripped seams of your dress. 

You pick at the threads and feel his stare on you. You can’t do this. You can’t deal with the possibility of rejection. Not after what happened between you and certainly not after what your father said. 

You undo your seat belt and Logan watches as you go through the movements of getting up. His eyes never leave you and it’s like a physical caress, his stare. Normally it would make you warm inside, comforted by his presence. But right now all you can feel is the chill of where his cum has dried between your legs and the icy-hot stab of nausea in your gut. 

You throw the door open and you’re nearly out when he calls out a quiet, “Goodnight.”

You don’t look at him, you can’t. You slam the door shut and walk silently to the front door of your house. You don’t look back, don’t respond, you just slip inside your house and finally let the weight of the night come crashing down on you. 

You don’t cry until you hear him pull out of the driveway. 

Your father and stepmother usually stay at the hotel the night of a gala. Most nights you come home and enjoy the house to yourself for once. Tonight, you’re woken up by the front door slamming so hard your walls shake. 

You can faintly hear your stepmother’s voice trying to console your father. She’s muttering something to him you can’t make out. You shoot out of bed, running to pull some sweatpants on. After you’d cried yourself out you’d taken a shower. 

You’ve scrubbed your skin raw but you swear you can still smell him on you. You rush to your bedroom door, turning the knob quietly and slowly peeking your head outside. Your father’s at the bottom of the stairs, the second he spots your open door he’s screaming your name. 

Your stomach twists painfully and you can feel panic starting to overwhelm you. Your hands shake and your legs are stiff as you slowly step into the hallway. You’re a grown woman. You shouldn’t feel like this because your dad is going to yell at you. 

But he’s been so good at forcing you to rely on him. At forcing you to bend and break to fit his beliefs and mold. You don’t know what to do if you’re not striving for his approval. And right now it’s very clear that he’s never been more disgusted by you. 

If the look on his face isn’t enough to twist the knife deeper, his words are. “I have never,” he screams at you. You take a step back, keeping the stairs between you, refusing to meet him in the middle. “Been more embarrassed to call you my daughter. Do you have any idea how humiliating that was for me? Do you know how many people saw you being dragged outside like a fucking whore off the corner?”

You clench your eyes shut, turning your face away from him as the shame becomes a physical thing inside you. You can feel it making its way up your throat. Because he’s right. Tonight you were nothing more than a slut without any self-respect. 

But you’re also pissed off. You’re fucking enraged at yourself for being so stupid as to ever believe Logan wanted you for anything more than your body. You're mad at Logan for knowing how you feel about him and taking advantage of it. And you’re so fucking tired of doing everything you can to make your father proud and it never being enough. 

“Have you ever once asked me what I want?” You raise your voice, screaming down at him with a ferocity that surprises even you. His eyes widen, frame trembling with unreleased rage. You plow through, not stopping because you know if you do, you’ll never get this out. “No, you haven’t. Not once. Because you don’t fucking love me! And it has taken me years to accept that, to finally realize that you’re incapable of loving anyone but yourself.”

You gasp, the noise wet and painful as something warm trickles down your cheek. You stare down at him with your eyes wide in realization. “It’s so clear to me now, I feel like an idiot for missing it for so long. You never loved me. You’re incapable of it!” 

You’re embarrassed at the way your voice cracks. As much as you want to pretend you’re stronger than him, not afraid of him. There’s still a little girl inside you who wonders why Daddy doesn’t love you. 

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you want, Dad. I don’t care what you want my life to look like or if I embarrassed you. I’m glad I did, glad someone finally saw a sliver of the truth you try so desperately to hide-”

“Enough!” He shouts and it startles you so bad that you jump back, your abilities reacting and a vase behind you flying off the shelf. You duck as glass shatters across the stairs and floor. You glance at the scene with shocked eyes, looking down at your father to see that he’s not even a little bit surprised. 

Instead, he just looks so deeply disappointed that it makes you shrink into yourself. The anger within you is extinguished in a second. He rubs his face, shaking his head and turning his back on you. “Dad?” You call out, voice trembling. 

“Go to your room,” he tells you quietly. “I don’t want to look at you anymore.” You hover by the top of the stairs for a moment, not quite believing him yet. And when he realizes you're still there, that you’re not taking him seriously, he finally looks at you again. 

“I wish every goddamn day that those doctors had just put you down. I’d rather have a dead daughter than one like you.”

You stand there, stunned, even after the rest of the house has gone to bed. You clean up the pieces of glass while you try and swallow down your tears. Let the sharp edges dig into your skin and tear until you can feel any type of pain besides the one inside you. 

A week of solitary confinement. You’re surprised that you haven’t just been kicked out of college. You’re sure that your father’s many donations to the university are the only thing stopping your professors from dropping you from the class. 

You don’t care if they do or not, though. You never actually care about what you studied. You’d just always hoped that it would be a way for you to escape the tight grip around your neck your dad has on you. 

You’ve figured out that no matter how hard you fight, you’ll never escape him. He hates you and yet, he can’t let you go. You’d laugh if you weren’t busy wallowing in your depression. 

Someone keeps leaving food by your door but you can’t find it in yourself to be hungry. You’ll nibble on something, but you feel like you’re going to throw up when you so much as breathe the wrong way. 

You haven’t heard from Logan since that night. You knew your father would fire him the second he woke up. But you’d held out hope - foolishly - that he might still try and reach out to you. You have this childish image in your head of the prince coming to rescue the princess from the dragon. 

But you’ve been naive your whole life, you don’t want to keep going down this road. You don’t want to keep expecting the best of people and live your life in perpetual disappointment. 

You haven’t seen or spoken to your father since that night. Wordlessly, he’d banned you to your room. No one’s said it, but you know you’re not allowed to come out. You don’t know when he’s going to deem you useful again and drag you back out into the public eye. 

Contrary to his belief, no one had seen you leave that night with Logan. You hadn’t been in any tabloids or shitty news articles. Besides emotional estrangement from your father and losing the only guy you’ve ever really liked, there were no consequences to your whorish behavior - as your father so lovingly puts it. 

You roll over in your bed and picture yourself taking a shower. It feels like such a workout but you can’t stand lying in your sweat and tears for much longer. With a long drawn-out groan, you throw yourself out of bed and enter the bathroom connected to your room. 

You know you’ll feel better afterward, but everything besides sleep sounds like too much work. Still, you force yourself inside and finally clean the grime of laying on your ass for a week off. 

You walk naked through your room, making a beeline for your dresser. You feel a little better after washing yourself off and moisturizing. But not much. Physical health can only do so much for how you feel inside. 

You hope this will blow over soon, you’re not sure how much longer you can take feeling so awful. You hate pitying yourself, and that’s exactly what you’re doing right now. You huff irritatedly, digging around your drawers for your favorite shirt. 

A hand clamps around your mouth, rough and big, yanking you back into a muscled chest and keeping you quiet. You still try and scream, hands clawing at the skin of their hand until you feel blood. 

“Fuck, quit that, would ya?”

Your erratic movements slowly come to a halt. You still feel your heart pounding against your chest, adrenaline warming your blood and making you feel like you're on fire from the inside out. But, you recognize the voice, recognize there’s no danger to the situation. 

That doesn’t make you any less pissed off. When Logan is sure you won’t keep attacking him, he lets you go slowly. You immediately whirl around on him, uncaring that you’re still naked. Energy moves quickly through you, becoming a physical thing under your skin. 

He smiles at you and you push the energy out, throwing him across your room. He flies into your bookshelf, crashing to the ground with a loud slam. “What the fuck are you doing?” You scream at him. 

There’s no one home right now, luckily, or else you both would be screwed. He shakes his head off, brushing pieces of wood out of his hair and slowly getting to his feet. “Well, I was coming to say hi-”

“You say hi by ambushing naked girls?” You interrupt, grabbing the clothes closest to you and pulling them on quickly. 

Logan rolls his neck out and shrugs. “No, that was just a plus,” he gives you that insufferable smirk and you want to scream. 

This is the first time you see him in a week since you had sex together and your father officially disowned you. And this is what he’s leading with? Seriously? “You’re a real fucking prince, Logan.” You shake your head with a scoff and glare at him.

He narrows his eyes, looking to be in disbelief at your attitude. “What happened?” You expect to hear irritation in his tone. Anger that you’re being such a bitch right now. Instead, he sounds concerned, like he can see right through you. 

You hate that. You used to love having someone who could see past all the pretenses and walls, but it just hurts now. “Nothing,” you tell him, unable to hold eye contact any longer. “Look,” you take in a deep breath, and your brows furrow in confusion. “How the hell did you even get in here?”

Logan doesn’t look like he wants to drop the topic just yet but he relents. He nods towards your window and you fix him with an astonished look. “I climbed, I didn’t want your dad to risk seeing me on the security cameras out front.”

You feel suspicion brewing inside you, tone turning defensive. “Look, if you came here because you want to fuck again, I suggest you go find another girl. I’m not interested anymore.”

“Well,” he scoffs, “I find that hard to believe.” How easily he just dismisses your words. Like they hold no real importance. It makes you want to scream. Instead, you just flick your wrist, throwing him into another wall. You don’t know how you’re going to explain these holes in the wall to your father but you don’t really care. 

“Enough,” he snaps, brushing himself off and glaring at you. Your lips curl up in amusement, the first thing you’ve felt besides anger and depression for the last week. “Look, I was coming here to get you the hell out, kid. Clearly, I’m not wanted.”

He walks towards your window, intent on climbing back down the side of your house and leaving. You almost let him, if only to see him scurrying down the wall. Instead, you take a step forward and stop him with a small, “Get me out?”

He sighs, running an aggrieved hand over his face and propping the other on his hip. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Look, I can’t stand the thought of you cooped up in here, isolated from the rest of the world. It’s not fair, I was gonna see if you…” He trails off and roughly swallows. 

Your interest piques. Whatever is this hard for him to get out has to be interesting. “Logan,” you call his name softly. “See if I what?”

He huffs out a rough breath, turning around and staring you down. There’s something in his eyes, something reflected in yours. He’s looking at you the same way you always look at him. “You wanna come with me, kid?”

Well, you’d have to be an idiot to say no. 

You don’t leave a note. You don’t give them any clues or hints as to where you might have gone. They can draw their own conclusions about what happened to you. They can tell the news whatever twisted lies they want. 

You don’t care, that’s not your life anymore. Your life is packed away in a backpack in the back of Logan’s trailer. Your new life is in the passenger seat beside him. You’re equal parts terrified and excited to figure out what you’re going to do with the rest of it. 

a/n: can you tell I know fuck all about politics?

Also, smut, wow, this was hard and rough to write. I don’t know why it’s such a struggle. I just feel guilty writing such dirty words, it’s absolutely diabolical that I have no problem being crazy over a guy whose age gap with me is the same age as my parents, but I can’t write smut.

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp♡

[dokyumms]

seventeen's reaction to you overworking yourself (hyung line) !

pairings: hyung line x reader (find maknae ver. here)

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 1.6k

cw: light cursing, overworking, fatigue, fainting

a/n: i had to cut this in half since it was getting too long and i wanted to make sure i posted today! i have NO idea why i made seungcheol's so long lmao. hope you enjoy kings ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ also, i will be closing my requests so i can catch up on them over the weekend, i'll try to get them done by monday! thank you for all the support, it means so much to me ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

seungcheol - seungcheol is livid. you're still at your second part-time job when seungcheol calls you, "send me your location, y/n." you didn't tell seungcheol you had taken on a second job. you've never been comfortable with money, always having to work multiple jobs to stay afloat. that was until you met seungcheol, and since then he's always taken care of your expenses, even offering to pay for part of your tuition, and you decided it was enough. you didn't want for your (millionaire) boyfriend to think you were using him, so you told him you took on some evening classes.

today, you're covering someone else's shift. originally, you weren't going to, but after their promise of sending you a little extra money for it, you accepted.

"cheol, i told you i'm-"

"at class still? don't bullshit me, y/n. you didn't take on any new classes, you left your paper schedule on the counter."

your stomach drops. ah hell, you must be stupid. "y/n, what are you really doing?" he asks, almost pleading. there's absolutely no fighting it at that point, "i'm... at work. shift just ended, i'll send you my location." in defeat, you sit on a barstool at the restaurant and wait for seungcheol.

when he walks in, his eyes are immediately on you, walking over and grabbing your hand. "let's go," is all he says. the car ride is silent with tension; he only asks about it once you two are both home. "why? y/n there's no reason for you to be working another job. i'm right here; if you needed financial help, i could've helped you." he says gently, trying to maintain his frustration, but his brows are furrowed, exposing his true emotions.

"that's just the thing seungcheol, you're always here to help me. i don't want to use you because i can't support myself." you reason, but seungcheol obviously isn't buying it. "y/n, you're not using me, even if you did i wouldn't care. i don't want to watch you struggle when i know i can help." he takes your hand into his own. "don't do this to yourself, please. i love you too much to let this keep going." looks like you're quitting that job.

jeonghan - you and jeonghan are walking home from your date night. it's supposed to be romantic, you two walking hand in hand, but you're feeling the weight of the all nighters you've been pulling all week to finish your project, walking wobbily on the side walk.

"did you drink or something? you're walking a little funny babe." jeonghan teases before giving you a genuine look of concern. you try to laugh it off, "hah, maybe." but then your eyes start to droop ever so slowly. jeonghan notices, "have you been sleeping?" damn. did your concealer wear off or something? you're about to respond, but your legs give out and jeonghan catches you before everything goes dark.

you wake up on the couch, tucked in with a blanket with jeonghan caressing your forehead lovingly. "so i'm guessing the answer to my question is no," jeonghan murmurs, giggiling. "but seriously y/n- don't scare me like that," he adds. "i know i know, sorry-" you say, trying to sit up, but jeonghan interupts. "i don't think so, you need to rest baby," he gently pushes you back down before joining you on the couch. "we'll talk about this seriously later, let's just sleep for now." wrapping his arms around you, leaving you no choice but to comply.

joshua - joshua wants to trust you, knowing that you're fully capable of taking care of yourself, but he can't help but worry when he looks over at you. you've been sitting at your desk for hours now, trying to finish all your assignments before the end of the grading period.

he walks over, putting his hands on your shoulders and massaging them. "you've been working for a bit, love. how about a break?" he suggests. you turn around, giving him a small smile, "i really would shua, but i've got like 2 hours till this is due. just let me finish this and i'll take a break." he frowns, "you promise?" "i promise," he hums in response, giving you a quick peck on the cheek before retreating to whatever he was doing.

2 hours later, joshua is back at your desk, only to find you slumped over your papers. he sighs, shaking his head before taking a look at your laptop. "hm, looks like you made the deadline," he says softly, gently shaking you awake.

"you did it, love. i'm proud of you, but i don't want you doing this often- it makes me worried." he murmurs, "come on, you need to take your well deserved break in a more comfortable space," taking your hand and guiding you to your room.

jun - honestly he gets it, between his singing and acting career, he knows what it's like to always feel like you're on the clock. he still doesn't approve of this though.

you just got home from working over time, it's 11:35- you both should be asleep, but he's waiting for you on the couch. looking at you, his heart breaks, noticing the eyebags, the bad posture, the way you're barely holding onto your bag, all of it. he makes his way over to you.

"oh, y/n," you don't process what's happening, about 30 seconds from fall asleep as he holds you. taking your bag from your hand, he then ushers you toward the couch. he helps you take off your jacket and shoes.

"do you want something to eat? water?" he asks while laying you down. you shake your head, but he still hands you a waterbottle anyway. "i'm always scared when you're like this bǎo bèi," he comments softly. "please take care of yourself, but if you can't, i'll be here." he gives you a kiss before laying your head down, falling asleep almost immediately.

hoshi - hoshi is nothing short of assertive, literally showing up to your job. "soonyoung, what are you-" "do you know what time it is? i'm taking you home." he leaves no room for argument as he drags you out of your work place. you're going to need to explain this to your manager.

"i'm not letting you do this to yourself, y/n. it's late. why are you still trying to work at this hour?" he asks, frustrated. "soonyoung, you know why. i don't have a roommate anymore; i can't pay rent with one income." he sighs, "i know, but you just look so- i don't know- tired now. i can help y/n, just let me."

there's no talking your way out of this, you just let him drag you all the way back to your apartment while rambling about how bad working late could be for your health: what if someone kidnaps you on the way home? what if you faint while you're walking up the stairs because you're so tired? what if you're so sleepy you don't notice someone walking by and you run into them and fall into a storm drain?

wonwoo - he doesn't scold you, but he'll get all nerdy and tell you terrible facts about not taking care of yourself.

you're bent over your laptop, trying to finish a whole group project on your own since you got assigned terrible partners. he sits down besides you, whispering in your ear, "keep sitting like that, and you won't be able to walk properly at 40," you scoff, but adjust your posture anyway, you don't want to test this guy. smiling in victory, he kisses you before walking away, reminding you to take a break.

you don't listen to him though, getting carried away in your work. wonwoo comes back every so often to tell you that your brain will start eating itself because you haven't eaten, you'll get terrible wrinkles because you're dehydrated, all that stuff.

once you're finally done and in bed, he scolds you, of course. "i know you think i'm joking, but i'm not y/n. this isn't good for you, next time you do this, i'm forcing you to stop, okay?" he strokes your hair and gives you a kiss. "i love you a lot, so take good care of yourself, can't have you dying on me."

woozi - out of all the members, he's definitely the one who relates to you the most. he knows you'll drown out the sound of people telling you to take breaks, so he takes things into his own hands.

you're working at your desk when woozi turns your chair around and grabs your hand, dragging you to the couch. you try to argue, you really need to finish this so your group doesn't fall behind on the project, but he doesn't take no for an answer.

"shush y/n, just let me talk." he starts, "i know what it's like, i really do. you feel like everyone is depending on you, and maybe they are, but you don't have to do it all alone," when you try to dismiss him and get back to work, he's actually pinning you to the couch. in any other circumstance, you'd be turned the hell on... but he's serious about this. "listen, stop trying to shut me out y/n. i'm someone you can rely on, and i want you to. don't do this to yourself, i won't let you."

you nod in agreement. "good, now let's just stay here for a second," he lays on top of you, trapping you under him so there's nothing you can do but rest.

[giannaln4]

Wet Dream

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Lando had a wet dream and he needs to take care of it.  (1.7k words)

warnings: mdni, + 18, smut, masturbation, fingering, unprotected sex, needy!lando

a/n: this might or might not be inspired solely by this picture. i'm not gonna lie, this is pure smut. i apologise in advance. also i'm sorry for the abrupt ending 😭 i never know how to finish these. anyway, please send some requests!

↺ back to navigation— send me a request!

The only thing that could be heard in your shared room were your moans, loud and desperate for a release. 

You were on top of Lando as he held onto your hips for dear life, his eyes closing as the overwhelming feeling of his incoming orgasm started to grow. 

“Are you close, baby?” He managed to spit out. He needed to make sure he didn’t come before you, so his thumb landed on your clit to bring you closer to the edge. Your moans were intensifying, and god, he loved the look on your face when you were about to come.

He opened his eyes and… nothing. Nothing but pure darkness. 

He looked down at his crotch, only to spot his painful cock making a tent under the blankets. His breathing was heavy, and he was sweating a lot. 

Fuck. 

He released the bedsheets he didn’t realise he was fisting and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. 

He looked next to him and spotted you there, peacefully sleeping and completely unaware of the dream he just had. 

He closed his eyes again, hoping he would be able to ignore his painful cock, but of course he couldn’t, because as soon as he closed his eyes, flashes of his wet dream and how undeniably beautiful you looked riding him came back to him. 

He took another deep breath as he opened his eyes, once again encountering the dark room. His hand was slowly sneaking down the blankets, and when he finally found his bulge, he gave it a hard squeeze for some relief. He let out an involuntary moan, not loud enough so that it would wake you up, but the room was so silent he thought it would. 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it in, so instead of trying to relieve himself right next to you, he knew the right thing would be to go somewhere else and not disturb your sleep. 

He got up carefully and left the bed, looking back at you, before locking himself in the bathroom. 

He sat on the closed toilet, pulling down his boxers and finally freeing his aching member. He squeezed it again, and again, and again, before he started stroking it slowly. His grip was firm, and his groans were low as he finally gave it what it so desperately needed. 

Using his spit and the pre cum leaking from his tip, his strokes got faster, and Lando rolled up his shirt and trapped it between his teeth as he looked down at his hand, his mind trying to replace it with your pretty mouth. With that image in his mind, it got harder to contain his moans. 

⋆｡° ✮ ⋆｡° ✮ 

You rolled over, expecting to find your boyfriend to cuddle, like you always did. Instead, all you found was an empty spot next to you. It was still warm, so you knew he hadn’t been gone for too long. 

You closed your eyes again, figuring he’d be back in just a moment, but you heard something that made you open them again. A loud breath that you thought could only mean something had happened. 

You got up immediately, worried as you made your way to the bathroom. But once you were close enough, it clicked. You finally understood what he was doing. 

You were about to turn around, go back to bed, and pretend like it never happened, figuring he needed some privacy to finish his business, but something between your legs was begging you to help him out and calm down whatever had gotten into him.

⋆｡° ✮ ⋆｡° ✮ 

He was being louder than he intended, but it felt so good he didn’t even realise. His shirt was still between his teeth and his eyes now squeezed shut as he tried to bring himself to a sweet release.

His mind was replaying his dream, echoes of both of your moans filling his ears and the vivid image of you on top of him, something he wished he could plaster in his eyelids, until he heard a knock on the door that made him stop what he was doing 

“You okay in there?” He heard you ask from the other side of the door. Shit. 

“Huh?” Was all he managed to say. 

“Can I come in?”

“No!” He was quick to reply, “I’ll be right out.”

He couldn’t help but be embarrassed, feeling like a teenage boy who was just caught getting off where he wasn’t supposed to. He was ready to just go back out and act like he wasn’t just jerking off to a dream he just had.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” You asked. You didn’t hear him say anything after that, and you instantly regretted interrupting him. Maybe that was something he needed to do alone. Maybe he needed a release but didn’t need… you. 

Those thoughts were interrupted when you heard shuffling inside, followed by footsteps that got louder as he got closer to the door. 

Lando opened it, his hair messy and his shirt wet from stuffing it in his mouth. “Yes, please,” he said with begging eyes. 

You crashed your lips into him, pulling him back to the bed. 

“I can’t believe you were doing that without me,” you said against his lips. 

“I didn’t wanna bother you.” He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you into his lap, hands falling on your hips as he brought you closer to him. 

You moaned when you felt his hard cock against you. “And keep this from me?” You asked as you moved your hips.

He bucked his hips involuntarily, the friction feeling delicious against your wet core. You kept moving on top of him as he discarded your sleeping garments, falling somewhere on the floor. You decided to do the same for him, getting rid of his shirt and running your hands up and down his muscles.

Neither of you could control the sounds that were falling from your lips, and yours only got louder when his right hand sneaked between your almost naked bodies to find your folds. He pushed one finger inside you, pumping vigorously.

“Mhm, already so wet for me,” he mumbled against your skin, his lips travelling down your neck.

“Couldn’t help it, it sounded like you were having fun in the bathroom,” you said, and you could feel a smirk creeping on his lips.

“Well, you drive me crazy even in my dreams.”

“Is that what happened?”

He hummed in response. “You should’ve seen how pretty you looked riding me.”

“Let’s make it come true then.” You pushed him on his back and got rid of his last piece of clothing, letting you see how needy his cock was. 

You admired him for a moment, and you could see him struggling to keep his hands to himself. When you finally decided you were ready, you started crawling to get on top of him, your hands landing on his bare chest.

“Ready?” 

“I’m always ready for you.” He replies, as sweet as ever. “Fuck, you’re so wet and beautiful,” Lando said, holding onto your hips as you began to get comfortable, both of your legs on either side of him. He gave your hips a hard squeeze as you got situated, just like in his dream.

You finally took his cock in your hand, stroking it slowly as you guided it to your dripping hole, a sigh of relief leaving your mouths when you sank down.

He groaned as his grip on your hips tightened when you lifted and sank back down onto him slowly.

“Feels good, baby?”

“So, so good.” His head fell back into the pillows when you rolled against him, and you couldn’t help but smile when he whimpered again. After a moment, he looked up at you. “Y/N?” He moaned your name, but it sounded more like a question.

You brushed a stray of his dark curls off his forehead. “Yeah?”

He let out another moan, his eyes falling to where you’re connected before meeting your eyes. “Faster, please.” And you listened, you began to ride him faster. “Just like that, baby,” Lando cried out.

You moaned as his dick spread you out. You began to bounce down faster and harder. Lando was losing his mind as he watched you move faster, your nails scratching down his torso. He was filling you so good he had you rolling your eyes to the back of your head every time his cock hit that sweet spot.

“Not gonna last long,” he warned you, his thumb finding your clit without even looking, although his eyes were on you the entire time, all of you, how your pussy looked as it swalowed his cock, how your boobs bounced with every roll of your hips, how your face contortioned in pleasure, and how your mouth fell open to let out the prettiest sounds he’s ever heard. He didn’t dare to look away; in case he was dreaming again, he didn’t wanna miss a single detail, and let’s face it, he didn’t wanna wake up this time.

“I’m close,” you breathed out, your legs burning from riding him, but you didn’t care; you only cared about how good he felt inside you.

“Cum with me, baby.” Both his hands returned to your hips, gripping them as he planted his feet on the bed to thrust up into you and help you move faster and more aggressively, trying to push you both over your edges.

Your own hand went to rub small circles where you were missing him as your other one fell on his shoulder to hold onto something, and before you knew it, you were coming around him. Your toes curled into the sheets, and your body trembled on top of his, making you fall forward and collapse across his defined chest.

"Fuck,” he whimpered when you squeezed him repeatedly. 

Lando had to do all the work himself, thrusting his hips upwards to meet yours, because your body wouldn’t and couldn’t move anymore as your orgasm racked through you. With four hard thrusts to your cunt, his load of cum shot up into your pussy and coated your slick walls.

Your bodies laid together as you both tried to catch your breath. His hand was rubbing your back, and his lips left a kiss on your temple, something he always did after you had sex.

“So, you had a sex dream?” You asked after a moment of silence. Lando chuckled at your question, kissing your shoulder softly before replying.

“And you just made it come true.”

[starlightsearches]

All Yours

"I'm going to fucking ruin you." / "I won't apologize for marking you up, everyone should know you're taken." / "I don't want anyone else. No one can make me feel like you do."

@somethingvicked tagging you because I accidentally deleted the original ask 😬 just wanted to say thanks for the request and a big, fat SORRY for taking so long. i was scrolling through my drafts the other day and saw this was like a year old and the shame managed to motivate me enough to finish this. Ooops again and I hope you enjoy!! Comments, likes, and reblogs are always cherished 💖

Eddie Munson x F! Reader

AN: 18+ only!!!!!!, car sex, partially-clothed sex, piv, semi-public, titty worship, humping, dacryphilia, unwarranted jealousy, porn with a little plot, eddie's self-depricating at the beginning but he fucks like a god, very possesive! eddie, multiple orgasms, one (1) mention of pregnancy but it's off-hand and mostly unrelated to the sex, unprotected sex, I took the spirit of the prompts more than the literal wording, this is very different for me and maybe rushed? idk you tell me 🙃

Eddie always jokes that you're his second love.

His van—with its stained upholstery, rattling frame and the battery on its last leg—was here first, he says. And despite everything previously mentioned, he treats that car like his baby.

So when he slams his door hard enough to rattle the glass in the window, it wouldn’t take a genius to know something is up.

Eddie sits silently in the half-light, gripping at the steering wheel with both hands and gnawing at his bottom lip until the skin turns white.

"Everything okay?"

He won't even look at you when he shoves the key in the ignition.

"Sure," Eddie says, but there's a bite to his voice, quiet over the roaring grind of the starter, "why wouldn't it be?"

The car does start—despite his abuse to the engine—and you prop your feet up on the dash, raising your brows as he tears out onto the empty street.

"Ohhh-kay. Is this about—"

You don't even get a chance to take a guess.

"It's not about Steve."

Eddie spits Steve's name at the window and the passing trees, their leaves blurring into inky smudges. You watch his jaw tick, eyes flashing from the road to the rear-view mirror, but never to you.

His resolve falters with the press of your hand against his on the gearshift.

"Really? ‘Cause I was going to ask if this was about Patrick Swayze?”

The speedometer ticks up for a quick beat, and then drops, and Eddie squirms in his seat.

He steers off to the right, and the van shakes as the tires bump off the smooth pavement to the gravel edge of the road, little twigs snapping off on the trees outside against the fading paint.

"Fuck," Eddie grumbles, quiet, like he's having a conversation with himself. His fingers catch in his curls when he takes the other hand from the steering wheel. It's dark out here, away from the street lights, but you still catch the shine glazing his lower lashes, the way he blinks to keep any tears from pooling there.

"I mean, it's no big deal," you tell him, petting over his knuckles with your thumb, "I just wish you would have said something."

You're not sure what lies were spread to make sure the goofy little pre-teens didn't show up for movie night and try to break down Steve's door. You just knew that—for once—everybody piled on the couch in the living room was of legal age.

It seemed like an exciting prospect when the night started, but everything was pretty much the same: just more beer, and fewer voices shouting about whatever movie you were gonna watch.

Nancy and Robin were a united front when they pulled out Dirty Dancing, and you joined them, mostly to annoy Steve when he pretended he wasn't interested.

Eddie grumbled about the choice, arm slung around your shoulder, but he came around, eventually. Nobody can resist the allure of Johnny Castle.

However many beers you had may have been one too many, though, because as soon as the credits started rolling, Steve had yanked you from Eddie's grasp and onto your feet as Nancy and Robin were cheering jump jump jump and you ran, stumbling into Steve's arms with a surprisingly powerful leap. Then you were floating, high above the living room with a bird's eye view of the crushed beer cans and Hostess wrappers littered over the carpet for one glorious second.

Until you landed in a giggling heap with Steve groaning beneath you, the room shaking with laughter to the point of tears, until Robin threatened to pee her pants.

Now that you've sobered up a little, you recognize that Eddie hadn't been laughing along.

He lets his head fall back against the headrest, eyes big as saucers, pathetic like a little dog who's about to get yelled at for pissing on the couch, and he twists the hand that's resting beneath yours until your fingers intertwine, gives you a squeeze—a move you recognize as an apology before he's got the words for what he's feeling.

"You know I'm not interested in Steve, right?" you ask, squeezing back.

Eddie nods, but his eyes tell a different story. He carries this thing with him—a kind of self-conscious bewilderment each time you reach for him in a crowd, press your lips to his, call him your boyfriend when there are people around to hear it.

It's kind of funny how much it doesn't make sense to you, how you assumed that, deep down, Eddie knew that you loved him, but also how badly you wanted him. That it wasn't some kind of fluke or coincidence or apathy that kept you here.

Eddie's breath catches in his chest, like he's trying not to cry, and you know you were wrong. You're not doing nearly good enough a job at making Eddie feel half as loved as he is.

You slip your hand from his, resting it just above his knee—an innocent start for your more illicit plans—scooting in your chair until you're almost nose to nose, lower your voice into a whisper.

"I'm serious, honey. You've got nothing to worry about."

Your plan is working already. Eddie swallows hard enough you can see his adam's apple jump in his throat, and his gaze keeps flickering from your eyes to the hand you've got on his thigh, climbing higher with each soothing stroke.

"Yeah, I-I know, baby, it's just—" his breath hitches, but he's fighting to get the words out, wet lips parting with a heavy breath as your fingers travel higher, thumb in the crease between his thigh and his crotch, "it's Steve Harrington."

His voice jumps an octave on Steve’s name, and your quiet laughter comes out in little breaths.

“I don't want to talk about Steve Harrington."

Your words hit his mouth in a puff of hot air, and Eddie gasps into the kiss that follows, moaning a little when your palm meets the zipper of his jeans and his swelling cock beneath. The tip of his nose digs into your cheek, one of his big hands finding your waist, trying to pull you closer, or as close as he can with the center console in the way.

"God, baby. Need you- need you so bad," he huffs, but you’re already breaking from the kiss, lifting your hips from the seat as you crawl into the space between Eddie’s warm chest and the steering wheel.

“Then you can have me,” you tell him, settling your weight in his lap, grasping around for the lever that’ll give you a little extra space. The seat rattles back until it stops with a heavy clunk, and Eddie has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip to keep quiet when your body lurches into his.

He won’t meet your eyes, looking out the blackened windows, checking the car like somebody’s gonna pop out from the back seat.

“What? Uh, I mean—like, here?”

You take Eddie’s face in both your hands, relishing the scratch of the sparse stubble peppering his jaw. Out of habit, his hands come to rest on your thighs, and you hum in approval.

“Whenever–“ you whisper, shifting your hips back just to bring them forward again, the crotch of your jeans meeting the bulge in his, rattling the chains hooked to his belt loops. Eddie’s neck goes taut, head pressed back against the seat.

“Wherever– “ you place your lips at the delicate skin he’s revealed, just brushing along the column of his throat. When you meet his eyes again, Eddie’s pupils are blown wide.

“And however you want me, Eddie. I’m all yours.”

“You’re all mine,” he repeats back to you, and his hands echo the sentiment, his confidence growing as he moves around to grip at your ass cheeks, pulling you more fully against him until he can grind up on you, his lips at your neck now, planting messy kisses at the edge of your throat that have you digging your fingers into his hair just to keep him there.

Your boyfriend's got a big dick—fucking hung like a horse, although he doesn't seem to know it, and he's already throbbing and heavy in his jeans, bucking his hips into you like he's trying to get you pregnant before he’s even inside you.

"Eddie," you sigh his name, just to admire the feeling of it, and he lets out a groan that has you dripping, the damp fabric of your panties sticking to your cunt and dragging over your clit with each shift of his hips.

"Yeah, baby?" he asks, and you hardly notice his hands at the zipper on your jacket, trailing it down, down, down until he can slip it from your shoulders, gripping at your tits through your tank top.

"You feel so—fuck," he's cut you off mid-sentence, pulling the neckline of your top down until your breasts are free, nipples already pebbling in the cool air. Eddie pinches one of them in between two fingers, the metal of his rings biting at the other until you gasp.

"Yeah?" he repeats, harder this time, the word mumbled into your tits. Eddie's smothering himself, licking and kissing and teething his way as he moves to replace one of his hands with his mouth over the dark, stiff peak.

He sucks the bud between his lips, glides his tongue over the sensitive skin there. The sound of your moans fills the car, and suddenly the pressure of his cock isn't enough when there's so much fabric between you. You can't pull away, though, not with how his free arm has circled your waist, forcing the sway of your hips.

"Eddie," you call out again, but he just grunts, onto the other breast now, fucking devouring you in a way only he can.

He's not stopping, teeth scraping at your skin and his lips pursed, sucking the life out of you while his other hand pinches and flicks the other stiff bud, still damp with his spit.

It's almost frightening how close he's gotten you, and just from this—the movement of his hips and his worshiping mouth.

"Eddie."

There must be something different in the way you say it this time, because he listens, finally, snaking his hand down between your bodies, slipping the button on your jeans and shoving his fingers inside until they reach the apex of your aching cunt. Your vision goes foggy, on the verge of tears from the relief of something solid pressed right up against your clit.

And his mouth doesn't stray from your tits, single-minded in a way only somebody like Eddie could be, sucking at your nipples until they both shine.

His fingers curl, perfect, sitting right where you need them as you grind and grind and grind your hips, brain turning to jelly with the way he's making you feel.

You feel Eddie's teeth bite a perfect circle on the inside of your breast, and that's what pulls you under.

You're practically screaming, and Eddie still won't stop, letting you ride out the perfect feeling of him, maybe hoping you'll remember this moment the next time Steve sees you. Just the idea of meeting up with your friends again after this has you flushing so deep you think you might combust right here.

The sparks fade slowly, your pussy still shaking and empty, wet enough you're sure you've soaked Eddie's fingers and he finally relents, his plump, pink lips tracing your collar bones, stopping at the edge of your jaw. He takes the delicate skin their between his teeth and sucks, hard.

That jolts you from your stupor. You press his head back, one hand on his forehead so you can make him look you in the eyes.

"Hey—that's gonna bruise."

You're scolding has no effect; Eddie's on a different plane now, cocky from making you cum so easily and still a little peeved from earlier, pressing past your hold on him until he can reattach himself to your neck.

"Not sorry," he tells you, marking you up between staccato shifts of his hips, "wanna make sure everybody knows you're mine."

It's impenetrable logic—you couldn't argue with him if you wanted to, and you really, really don't want to when he makes his way to your mouth, kissing you, his tongue against yours and his hot, heavy breaths, one hand balled in the fabric of your tank top at the middle of your back.

"Turn around," he tells you, guiding you into compliance with his hands at your waist, and it makes you dizzy, feeling like you'd end up on the ceiling if Eddie didn't keep his grip on you, pulling you tight against him until your back meets his chest.

It’s like he's touching you everywhere, hands on your hips and your tits and pushing your hair up off your neck—looking for more skin that he hasn't painted yet—so you're not prepared when the chair falls back, left breathless and unmoored, staring at the stained upholstery on the roof of Eddie's van.

"You good?" Eddie asks in response to the gasp you let out, urging your hips into the air as he tugs your jeans and your underwear down around your thighs.

You just nod, too desperate for any explanation, to say anything at all. Eddie's turned you stupid, has you whining into his neck when you lean your head back on his shoulder, looking up at his jaw with wild, tear-filled eyes.

"Gonna ruin you for anybody else, sweetheart," he tells you over the sound of his jangling belt, his hot cock pressed against your back. "Gonna make sure you never leave me."

You nod, fucking rabid when he shifts and you can finally feel the fat tip of his dick at your entrance, smearing the first taste of his cum over your lips.

"Nobody else, Eddie," you promise him, "just you."

Eddie takes his cock in his hand, teasing it over your pussy, nudging it against your clit until you jump in his arms. He grips tighter at your waist, holding you just under your tits to keep you still.

"Promise?" he asks.

The tears that slip down your cheeks and onto his neck must be answer enough, because Eddie slides inside you, just the tip, and the relief at even this small feeling of fullness has you crying out.

Eddie's thrusts are methodical and relentless, slow at first, but they build quickly, his hips slamming into you, his grunts from exertion and from pleasure low in your ear. And you're moaning, too, like putty against him, totally enraptured as you watch the muscles in his jaw flex, beads of sweat collecting at his hairline.

He keeps hitting this spot inside you, has you full to the brim, and you're so wet you half-wonder if your pussy juice is soaking into the seat.

It feels like the van is rocking with the force of his thrusts, steam collecting around the edges of the windows from your shared breaths. It’s obscene how in to this you are, how loud it sounds, the wet squelch of your poor cunt echoing around the interior of his van.

"You're gonna cum for me, baby," he tells you, "wanna feel you squeezing my cock."

Four of his fingers meet at the top of your thighs, rubbing steady circles over your clit. You think you might be screaming.

Eddie has you cumming like you're being raptured, twitching in his lap, tits bouncing as he fucks into you, deeper than before until your vision blacks out and you can't see or feel or think of anything but perfect Eddie Munson and his perfect fucking cock.

It's dark when you come to. Maybe he fucked you blind.

Your vision returns, though, just in time. Eddie's chest heaves beneath you, and he pulls out with a grunt, his cum and yours dripping down your thighs in a sight so lurid it's got you flushing down to your neck.

That's definitely going to stain the upholstery.

Eddie doesn't seem to care, stroking his heavy hands over your thighs, pulling your clothes back into place—gentle where they had been rough, his mouth dotting soft kisses against the back of your spine.

Eddie shifts you around in his lap, let's his big eyes find yours. Your fingers twine with his, and he laughs a little when you kiss at his knuckles.

"You know," Eddie says, cheeks pink and a stupid smile on his face, "now that I think about it, Dirty Dancing might be my new favorite movie. I mean, who doesn’t love Patrick Swayze?"

[misayani]

Okay, this is a bit of an odd request, but could you write a threesome between No-el, Se-Mi, and the Fem!reader? Like both No-el and Se-Mi are ganging up on the reader to fuck hard enough for her to see stars.

I don't really have a plot in mind. Maybe another contestant was flirting with the reader and they both get jealous so they corner her in the bathrooms? And the reader is more than willing to fuck them too.

Thank you so much!

NOBODY KNOWS — NO-EUL (GUARD 011) & SE-MI (PLAYER 380) 

◜ pairing ... no-eul / guard 011 & se-mi / player 380 x  fem reader

◜you knew you were fucked, as you managed to get two women jealous over you.

𔗨 author's note — came ten times writing this so i apologize if i took so long /j. lets just pretend mi-na's still alive and happy in this fic <33 (i needed this no-eul fic as much as you guys do because theres little to no fics about her and im so sad and I JUST NEED HER.) [lowercase intended]

♡ upcoming fic — se-mi + comfort 

warning: smut [threesome, fingering, oral] 

"ugh, get off meeee!" mi-na tries to wiggle you off as you cling tighter onto her arm. right now was your second game, and they had asked everyone to team up into five— your team included you and mi-na, thanos, nam-su, and se-mi who had been acting distant ever since you guys sat down waiting for your team's turn.

you were sat in between mi-na and se-mi, the latter who had been sneaking glances to the both of you without you noticing. 

"i'm scared, what if i mess up?" you unconfidently mutter to your bestfriend, who looked at you with an expression that read 'are you kidding me?'

"babe, i've seen you play gonggi ever since we were kids. and there was not a single time where you missed catching. you won't mess it up." mi-na said, grabbing your hand to reassure you.

"you've known each other since kids?" se-mi spoke up beside you, making you both turn your heads to her. your lips form into a polite smile, she finally spoke. 

"yes, we were neighbours but she actually used to bully me—" mi-na cuts you off as she rolls her eyes, "yah! don't just go and tell some nobody shit about us." she nudges you as se-mi scoffs.

"the fuck you mean nobody? if it weren't for me, she wouldn't have made it past first game." your smile drops as se-mi speaks, well it was true— if it weren't for her catching you during 'green light red light', you would've been dead by now.

"you bitch—!" mi-na started but you immediately jumped in, "it's fine. not a big deal." you shoot your bestfriend a look to calm her down. please, not now.

mi-na flips her hair and crosses her arms against her chest, turning her attention to the purple-haired man beside her, who called himself thanos. he notices her and smiles, starting a conversation with her.

you turn to look at se-mi and give her an apologetic smile, "i'm sorry about her. she acts the same for everyone, if that makes you feel better." se-mi rolls her eyes, pressing her tongue against the inside of her cheek as she darts her eyes back to the contestants currently playing. 

you just pressed your lips together in a thin line at her lack of response before you turned your head back to also watch as you fiddled with your fingers anxiously.

                            ㅤ࿚࿚࿚࿚ㅤ࣭ㅤ𐙚ㅤ࣭ㅤ࿙࿙࿙࿙

 "can't it be our turn already? my ass is starting to hurt from sitting." you hear mi-na complain under her breath. you roll your eyes playfully as thanos smirks, "don't you worry babe, i'll massage it for you later." nam-su—you think that's his real name. thanos calls him nam-gyu, despite nam-su correcting him many times already until he got tired and just let it be— looks at the purple-haired guy weirdly, you couldn't blame him.

"get a fucking room"

finally, the current team playing made it to the finish line. all of you stood up, cheering the group that won. you turned to mi-na the same time she does and you both crash into a hug as if your own team had won. 

beside you, was se-mi staring at the both of you, jaw clenched and hands formed into fists. she sat back down as mi-na and you finally calm down, smiles still plastered onto your faces. the both of you sit back down and you tilt your head at mi-na, whose eyebrows are furrowed as her gaze was locked at something behind you. you follow her gaze, simply seeing a triangle masked guard. 

you look back to mi-na before you spoke, "what's wrong?" you see her blink as she snaps out of it, looking to you instead, "nothing. just felt like that guard behind us was staring."

you laugh, "you're overanalyzing everyone. what? gonna fight that guard too?" she rolls her eyes at you as she shakes her head, sighing. "whatever."

moments later, it was finally your team's turn. what mi-na said was right— you didn't mess up during playing gonggi. in fact, the each of you managed to play all the mini games smoothly and went back to the large room without any scratches.

                            ㅤ࿚࿚࿚࿚ㅤ࣭ㅤ𐙚ㅤ࣭ㅤ࿙࿙࿙࿙

it was finally bedtime, after doing the votings. you and mi-na had voted for go home, while the other three in your group voted for the opposite. you toss and turn in your bed, unable to sleep. many thoughts are racing inside your mind and you would literally kill just for them to give you a break.

suddenly, your mind wanders off, and a girl with the bold personality comes to mind. se-mi. just the thought of her makes you squirm. you had noticed the way she looked at you, the way she touched you everytime she had a chance to. 

heat rushed to your core. really? right now? you shift, removing the pillow supporting your head and placing it in between your legs instead. it's not enough, you thought. with a sigh, you hesitated before slipping yourself out of bed and drag your feet towards the door on the left side of the room.

you knock on the door softly, patiently waiting for the masked men to answer. seconds later, the hinged cover on the window swings open, revealing a triangle masked guard.

"restroom. please." you speak, before adding "my stomach really hurts." you see the guard pause for a while, before shutting the hinged cover and you sigh in defeat, preparing to walk back to bed. the door opens and you look up, the triangle masked guard standing on the side, making way for you.

"i need to go too." you flinch as you hear someone speak behind you. glancing to your back, your cheeks heat up as you see the girl you had just been fantasizing about earlier. se-mi glanced back, looking directly into your eyes. 

you snapped your head back, facing forward. with an awkward cough, you walk forward, se-mi following behind as the triangle masked guard guides you both towards the restroom.

the guard opens the door for the both of you as soon as you reach the restroom. se-mi walks past you, going inside first before you walked in next. 

the door shuts behind you just before you hear one of the bathroom stall's door slam shut. you just stand there for a moment, why was i here again? right. to get yourself off.

you felt disgust towards yourself as you made your way to the sink, turning on the faucet. you start to wash your hands as you think: but how the fuck am i supposed to do that when the woman you were thinking about is also inside this restroom and wouldn't that be so disgusting to think of someone like that an— your thoughts were cut off as you look back up to the mirror in front of you, startling as you see se-mi just meters away behind you. 

you turned the faucet off before you turned around, facing her. "you scared me." you said quietly, your chest rising up and down. she snickers before she spoke up, "scared you, huh? don't tell me you don't like me being in the same room as you, alone."

she clicks her tongue, "you think i haven't been noticing your little stares?" oh so she felt it too, the thing between us. "you're probably having dirty thoughts right now for all i know." her lips form into a smug smirk, making your knees feel like jelly.

your lips part and the restroom door suddenly swings open, making you both snap your heads to look. your eyes widen in fear as you see a triangle masked guard walk inside, locking the door behind. your head turns to look at se-mi, who didn't look as scared at all. what the fuck? you thought.

your heart started to hammer in your chest. you hear rustling as you look back to the guard. he— or she— started taking the mask off, revealing piercing eyes, before taking off the balaclava next. it revealed a woman. a rather hot woman, she had short black hair and a scar on her right cheek that was still reddish.

"s-semi..?" your voice came out shaky, as you reached for the girl beside you. you were so confused and scared, not knowing what this guard's deal was. she glanced at you, walking in front in a protective manner, before speaking to the woman you didn't know the intentions of. 

"why the hell are you here?" she bravely starts, "don't you guys have your own restrooms?" se-mi huffs at the woman. you admired se-mi for her courage to talk confidently but at the same time you're scared shitless for her. 

the woman sighs, "why the hell—? fuck—" she starts, before adding: "to join in on whatever the hell you two are doing."

"to join in on—? ah." se-mi pauses as if she read the woman's mind. "i see. you want her?" se-mi chucks her head sideways at you, as the woman glances at your confused state— eyebrows furrowed and eyes doe. you looked like a puppy, which made her want to ruin you even more. 

"wha-what?" you stuttered, fiddling with your fingers. "what do you mean? what do you mean you want me? how?" you hear se-mi chuckle as the woman in front of you crosses her arms. want me? want to kill me?? or like, sex? hopefully sex. different thoughts raced to your mind. 

"don't act dumb now sweetheart. you know exactly what i mean by it." se-mi cooes at you mockingly. 

"well.. what do you say? are you up for it..?" the woman speaks up again with her raspy voice. you bit your lip, as they both stare at you in anticipation. fuck it.

you shyly nodded as you look down at your fingers. "words." your head snaps up to look at the woman once again before saying, "fine— yes.. i'm down." 

after hearing your confirmation, the woman starts to unzip her red jumpsuit, making your legs weak. se-mi walks closer to you, "take your jacket off, baby." she softly says. you comply, before se-mi speaks up once again "shouldn't have been so close to your 'bestfriend' in front of me" 

you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, dropping your jacket onto the floor. "oh. i guess we're both in here for the same reason, then." the woman speaks, your cheeks heat up as you saw her figure— she had the jumpsuit unzipped down to her waist, revealing a sports bra underneath.

se-mi snickers as she pushes your shoulder, making you fall down to your butt. "you saw that too?"

"was observing them from afar." oh.

"huh? bestfriend? you mean mi-na?" se-mi hums as she squats down to your level.

"but- but we're just friends?" you lock eyes with se-mi as the other woman walks just behind you.

"we're just friends," se-mi mocks you, "bullshit." 

the woman's also bent down to your level now and you can feel her hot breath against the back of your neck. "shirt, off." she whispers. 

you hesitantly grap the end of your shirt, you were shy to show them your body, it'll make you feel too exposed and pathetic.

the woman behind you clicks her tongue, before she takes your shirt off herself impatiently. "hesitant now? you weren't as hesitant earlier when you kept flirting with your friend." 

"won't be surprised at all if the both of you had sex before." semi continues, you were now left in your bra and tracksuit pants. "slut." 

your breath hitches as the woman behind you started kissing the side of your neck softly, while her gloved hands traveled to your covered breasts and started caressing them over the cloth. "no-eul. my name's no-eul." she whispers in between  leaving kisses on your neck.

you whimper, your hands going towards your pants to slide it down your legs. se-mi helps you and she throws it aside, exposing your soaked underwear. "you look so pretty like this. so wet for us." se-mi purrs as she presses the pads of her fingertips to your clothed cunt.

the woman— no-eul— unclasped your bra and you wiggle it off you as the cold air made your nipples hard. no-eul takes off her gloves and immediately brings them back to your boobs to grope them.

you let out a soft moan, head tipping back to kiss no-eul. she complies, taking your soft lips onto her chapped ones. the both of you make out as se-mi kept herself busy sliding down your underwear. you lifted your hips up slightly to make it easier for her, and once they were finally off, she spreads your legs as her breath hitches.

you pull away from the kiss and rest your head on no-euls shoulder while she continued to touch your chest. semi leans down and starts to leave kisses on your thighs, sometimes sucking them. 

your head shoots up to look at se-mi. "se-mi please" you plead, "please what?" she murmurs against your inner thigh. 

"please, eat me out. please."

"yeah? is that the same way you beg mi-na?" she taunts, "no, no— we don't fuck i swear! we're just friends." you cry out, your hips bucking up, desperate for any contact. 

you tilt your head back to no-eul's shoulder once again, pouting and whining, "no-eul.." the woman chuckled at you and shook her head, "you have to beg, baby." 

you look at se-mi as your lower lips tremble. you didn't even care at this point on, "please se-mi, i— i promise we're both just friends. really- i— i swear she's straight. just please, i need you." 

"give the poor girl what she wants, don't be so mean." you were grateful that no-eul spoke up, as it finally led to se-mi giving in. 

your back arches as your head falls down to no-eul's left shoulder. se-mi latched her lips onto your aching clit, swirling it with her tongue. soft gasps escape your mouth—that's very close to no-eul's ear— making her hear everything loud and clear.

"mnnnh— so good.." no-eul herself was getting wetter and wetter at your noises: soft moans and the lewd sound your wet cunt is making while se-mi hungrily makes out with it.

"fuck, baby.." you swear you just heard a low moan from no-eul, but maybe you're just tripping, considering your mind is spinning around right now out of pleasure. 

you reach for no-eul's hand, bringing it to your mouth before you started to suck on her ring and middle finger. "shit," no-eul mutters, her fingers softly thrusting in and out your mouth, "don't do this to me."

se-mi hums against your cunt, her tongue teasing your entrance before she pushes it in. many things are happening too fast right now, you could feel your orgasm growing. 

no-eul pulls her fingers out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting them. she leans down to kiss you, making your moans muffled. your hand travels towards se-mi's hair as you push her head deeper. you couldn't think of anything that's better than this: no-eul's tongue exploring your mouth while se-mi's explores your cunt. 

"i'm going— to cum—" you say in between kisses, loud enough for se-mi to hear. you should be thankful for se-mi being nice, because she speeds up, eager to make you cum and taste you. 

and then it happens. everything waist down tightens as you release, your orgasm ripping through you. a loud moan escapes your mouth and onto no-eul's who pulled away and watched your pleasured face. se-mi laps your juices up before you feel no-eul remove herself from behind you. 

se-mi stands up and no-eul whispers something to her, nodding before she pulls her pants and underwear down and tosses them somewhere else. you lick your lips at the sight before no-eul spoke up

"on your hands and knees." holy fucking shit— se-mi places herself down as you turn around, your legs slightly wobbling while you try to support yourself using your hands. your face was met with se-mi's dripping core before she speaks "well?" 

"i- i don't know how to... um," you shyly say, not feeling confident to make someone cum.

"it'll be fine, just trust your instincts." trusting her, you lean down to close the space between you and se-mi's cunt, giving her light kitten licks. "fuck— more." she forces out. you started making '8' patterns against her clit as she lets out a breathy moan. 

your eyes widen as you moan out loudly from no-eul slamming two of her fingers inside you without any warning. "fuck—! mngggh!" se-mi didn't let you adjust as she forcefully pushes your head down to her core, making your moans muffled against her, sending vibrations to her whole body. 

tears started to well up in your eyes as no-eul's fingers pound into you. no-eul grunts behind you as her fingers works wonders inside of you, hitting the right spots, "you're so fucking tight." 

se-mi lets out a scoff, "surprising, thought you were a whore." you moan against her core, if it was possible— you grew wetter at her words. 

you start to think that you're doing a good job because of how se-mi lets out small moans. you flutter your eyes open and traveled your eyes to look at her expression, you were surprised to see her already looking at you, eyes half-lidded with lips parted and sweat dripping down her forehead as you kept making out with her cunt. 

your arch your back as you felt no-eul curl her fingers inside you. you felt another orgasm building up, this time faster due to being the second one. 

"dirty girl, letting a guard fuck you senseless like this when you should be scared of me." you hear no-euls raspy voice— shit, her voice alone is turning you on so bad, making you feel butterflies inside your stomach. 

"think you can handle one more finger baby?" no-eul cooes, as you hum against se-mi, tasting something salty— did she just cum? holy fuck did i make her cum? 

se-mi tugs your hair up and shifts herself closer to you before crashing her lips onto yours. you could differentiate the way no-eul and se-mi kiss you: no-eul kissed you soft and slow while se-mi kissed you hungrily and rough. you moan into her mouth as no-eul pushes a third finger inside you, making you closer to releasing. 

"you're taking it so well, so good."  

you pull away from the kiss and se-mi immediately latches her lips on your neck, sucking on it. 

"i'm gonna cum- i'm gonna cum," you moan out as no-eul's fingers work faster. 

your eyes roll back as your second orgasm hits you, feeling an overwhelming bliss throughout your whole body. no-eul doesn't stop but she slows down her thrusts as she lets you ride your high. soon enough, you've calmed down and the woman behind you pulls her fingers out of you, making a squelching noise.

your knees shake before they gave out, if it weren't for se-mi catching you you would've fell to the floor face first. 

"clean her up. i need to go back outside." no-eul speaks up. you can hear the faucet running so you assumed she was washing her hands. you can feel se-mi nod against you, before you turned around to look at no-eul who was zipping up her jumpsuit and tidying herself up before walking towards the door. 

she's leaving already? the thought made you sulk.

se-mi leans you against the wall as she starts to dress herself up as well. no-eul pauses, her shoulders going up and down as if she let out a sigh before you see her turn around and walk back towards you.

you just stare straight forward dumbfoundedly, before feeling a cold hand tilt your chin up as no-eul leans down to give you once last kiss. 

"i trust you to not tell a soul about this." 

her voice was gentle but firm, and it made you not want to even think about telling anyone about this— it wasn't like you're planning to anyways. no-eul walks towards the door and pauses as she sees se-mi come back with a tissue roll on hand, she gives her a nod before unlocking the restroom door; she opened it slightly at first, checking for anyone outside, and walking outside when she confirmed it was clear.

se-mi picks your underwear and pants up from the floor and shakes it off, you stand up as she hands you the toilet paper and you use that to clean your slick off. she hands you your clothes after and you wear them, disposing the used tissue paper and then washing your hands after. 

you glanced at where you dropped your jacket, frowning when you didn't see it there. se-mi clears her throat behind you, you turn off the faucet and turn around before she hands you your jacket. 

you both stare each other awkwardly. you bit your lower lip as her lips form into a smirk, "have you learned your lesson?"

you nod slowly and then you see her raise her eyebrows at you. "next time you pull the same shit, i won't be so nice." she leans in to kiss you; you reciprocate. "but it's too bad we don't have too much time using the restroom." se-mi says in between kisses as she cups your jaw

"or maybe should i just fuck you out there for everyone to see, hm?"

she smiles against your lips, "even had a fucking guard swoon over you." she murmurs. you pull away from the kiss before clearing your throat, you aren't really sure what to say right now. "cmon." se-mi intertwines her fingers with yours as she leads you towards the restroom exit, opening it before stepping outside with you following.

no-eul— well, a masked guard, but you think it's her, was standing outside patiently, nodding and leading the way back to the large room after seeing the both of you.

your mind wanders off as you walk— oh my god. i just fucked two women and one of them's a fucking guard. a quiet sigh escapes your lips as you rethink your life choices;

what the hell am i doing with my life

                         ㅤ࿚࿚࿚࿚ㅤ࣭ㅤ𐙚ㅤ࣭ㅤ࿙࿙࿙࿙

"why are you walking so weirdly? hey— walk straight for the love of god!" mi-na exclaims as she catches you from falling down, the two of you were walking towards the line of players to get your breakfast.

"the fuck does that have to do with you not walking straight?" she scoffs, "it's like you got fucked so hard you can't walk." she murmurs as your eyes widen before you nudged her.

your cheeks heat up as you remembered the things that happened last night in the bathroom. you shake your head, "it's nothing. my head just hurts."

"mi-na!"

you didn't deny it though. if only she knew, if only.

@misayani

[monzabee]

Ok so this is my first time requesting so sorry if it’s not like to detailed but I’d say like a story where you and Lando live together and you eventually start liking each other but he doesn’t know you like him and like you see him and a girl and immediately like “omg he does NOT like me😔” so you go with your friend like to a bar or club not sure and meet someone(could be Charles or Carlos)

And the you end up liking him and then he takes you to your house and Lando is waiting for you and then sees (one of them) and then gets upset and starts asking like were have you been blah blah .Then you eventually say you liked him but you know it didn’t if he had liked someone else and then he’s like no I liked you and then it comes to a fluff or angst ending.(again I’m sorry first time requesting 😭❗️

the roommate experiment – ln4

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Lando doesn’t like his roommate, not one bit—this is a complete lie.  

Pairing: lando norris x reader

Word Count:  3.8k

Warnings: fluff, arguing (a lot), feeelings, jealous, i can’t remember but maybe cursing?  

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! let me tell you one thing—this fic is VINTAGE at this point, and i'm not even kidding😭 this took me a very long time to finish, and it was a journey, and i do apologise for that, but hey—at least it’s here!!! let's all celebrate some good vibes for lando norris who is leading the championship, and hopefully i can get through rest of the requests on my list. i hope you guys enjoy and feedback is always appreciated. also, my requests are open! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

One second Lando is on the podium in Miami, getting his first win, being absolutely on top of the world and partying until he doesn’t remember his name. Then, suddenly, he is back in his apartment in Monte Carlo, his mother sitting on the couch beside him as she explains how the daughter of a close family friend will be staying him for the foreseeable future. He thinks, for a moment, whether he is still hungover or not, or maybe he’s dreaming, because there is absolutely no way he’s going to be sharing his apartment with you. 

“Absolutely not,” he shakes his head, hands cutting through the air to emphasise his point. “Why am I the one stuck with her? She’s not a child.” 

“I’m not saying she’s a child,” his mother points out, “I’m saying that she needs a place to stay during her internship, and you have an extra room. She’s your friend, Lando, stop acting like you don’t like her.”  

With a finger pointed at his mother, “I’m not saying I don’t like her,” Lando explains, “all I’m saying is that I don’t think either of us could be fine with living each other. You saw the last time we had an argument; do you want it to be like that every single day?” 

No, she thinks, I absolutely do not, as his mother thinks of the thrashed-up villa that your families had rented out for a holiday and shakes her head to get rid of the imagine. “Well, she’s coming, so be nice to her and try not to obliterate your apartment, darling.” 

“Mum, I just won my first race, is this how you want me the remember the best day of my life ending its high?” Lando tilts his head, giving his mom the best puppy eyes he can.  

He thinks for a second that he manages to get through her, but then, she straightens up, gives him a small kiss on the forehead and starts walking through the door as she yells, “Don’t forget to bring out the guest towels!” 

And as he slumps down onto the couch, his mind goes back to the fact that just over twenty-four hours ago, he was back in Miami, partying after his first win. 

Staying at Lando’s apartment in Monte Carlo wasn’t your first, second or last choice for an accommodation if you’re being a hundred percent honest. Alas, you find yourself at his apartment, bags in hand, busy returning the look of disdain behind his mother’s back to match the look he gives you himself. She has somehow convinced your mother, who practically forced you to take her gracious offer, that this is a good idea. “You’ll get along splendidly,” she assures you all, including herself, “you are not little kids who fight because of everything anymore.”  

Oh, little did she know. 

The first hour you’re there, Lando makes a point of complaining of how many boxes you have, as if you were not in the process of moving your entire life to another country, and that you are to, under any circumstances, display any of your ‘girly’ things out in his ‘bachelor pad’. You decide to take the high road with that second one and opt for an eyeroll as you drag your suitcase into your room to unpack. The look he gives you behind your back? Priceless. And you only know how he looks because of the strategically placed mirrors he has on the corridor.  

After a couple of hours, he throws a fuss because you’ve decided to order food. “I’m an athlete,” he points out. “You can’t just order food whenever you want around here.”  

You try taking the high road, you really do, but how can you not egg him on when he is acting like such a petulant child?  

The second argument occurs when Lando has a few friends over a couple of days later, and you wander into the kitchen in your loungewear—which doesn’t make any sense, because you can’t see what’s so scandalous about a pair of shorts and a tank top, but he insists that you cannot be hanging around his friend wearing ‘almost nothing’. You point out that his complaining within itself contradictory because if you are wearing something, then you cannot be wearing almost nothing. He leaves the living room, stomping on his way back to his room, you count it as another argument won. Your mother loses it when you tell her that you’re going to start looking for a place to move out, also reminding her of the fact that living with Lando was supposed to be temporary anyway, but she’s having none of it. 

“Temporary or not, you promised to stick it out until your internship ends,” your mother reminds you sternly over the phone. “And besides, you’ve known Lando your whole life. Surely you can survive a few months without tearing each other apart.” 

“Define ‘tearing each other apart,’” you mutter, earning a long sigh on the other end. 

“Stop being dramatic,” she replies. “Lando isn’t the problem. You both just need to grow up and learn how to live together.” 

You don’t have the energy to argue further, so you reluctantly let the conversation end with a grumbled, “Fine, but if one of us ends up in the hospital, it’s on you.” 

When you think about it, living with Lando is as much as living without Lando. So that’s how your days pass by for a while, at least until Lando has to leave to go racing or back to the UK to go to the Mclaren factory. You fight over everything like cats and dogs, and you are mature enough to admit that coexisting with Lando is not an option. The apartment is eerily quiet when Lando is not there, you realise. That makes sense, since he is not there to bicker with you about anything and everything you do, from the way you breathe to the way you walk. At first, you relish the silence. The absence of Lando’s constant complaints feels like a vacation. No sarcastic quips about your ‘obnoxious’ alarm clock. No eye rolls when you leave your shoes by the door instead of neatly tucking them away.  

No Lando, period. 

But then, as the days stretch on, the quiet begins to weigh on you. Without the petty arguments, the apartment feels almost... lifeless. You catch yourself lingering in the kitchen, half expecting him to appear and critique your choice of breakfast. Or walking past the couch, where you can usually find him lounging with a smug grin, daring you to say something about his feet on the coffee table. It’s unsettling how quickly you’ve grown used to his presence, how much his absence leaves a void. 

You would never admit out loud that there is a teeny tiny chance of you possibly miss having him around, because admitting that would be like handing him a victory he absolutely doesn’t deserve. Lando is already insufferable enough—imagine the endless teasing if he found out you missed him. No, you tell yourself firmly, this is just about the sudden peace and quiet that you are not used to. It has nothing to do with him. But the longer Lando stays away, the harder it becomes to ignore the empty space. You find yourself pacing the apartment, glancing at your phone, half-expecting to see a message from him. Maybe just to poke fun at something you did or complain about something you didn’t even know was an issue. But there’s nothing. Not even a text. 

It’s strange. The whole atmosphere of the apartment is different without his presence. The silence isn’t comforting anymore—it’s just oppressive. It makes you feel a little bit lost, a little bit too aware of the fact that the person who used to drive you crazy is the same person you now seem to miss, even if you won’t admit it. 

You’re standing in the kitchen one afternoon, absentmindedly washing dishes, when the door slams open when Lando is back. He’s dragging his luggage behind him, looking dishevelled but somehow still effortlessly cool. As soon as he steps in, he scans the apartment with that familiar smug grin. “You miss me?” he asks, voice light and teasing, though his eyes are just a little too knowing. 

Your heart skips a beat, and you quickly turn away, trying to hide the fact that you’re actually relieved to see him. “I wouldn’t go that far,” you mutter, scrubbing the plate a little too vigorously. 

Lando laughs, clearly enjoying this. “Sure, sure. You don’t have to admit it. I can tell.” He tosses his keys on the counter and walks into the living room, looking around like he’s just returned to the battlefield.  

“Only in your dreams, Lando.” You can’t stop the eye roll that follows, but you bite back the smile threatening to break through. 

Lando raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your deflection. “Trust me, darling, you’re doing something very different in my dreams.” 

You freeze for a second, a blush creeping up your neck despite your best efforts to stay unaffected.  

Did he really just say that? 

You turn your back to him, scrubbing the dish a little harder, trying to mask the sudden nervous energy that’s bubbled up in your chest. “Keep dreaming, Lando. I’m not that easy.” 

His laugh follows you, light and teasing. “Oh, I know. But trust me, it’s a pretty good dream.” He drops onto the couch with the same lazy, confident air that he always has, kicking his shoes off and stretching out like he owns the place. You roll your eyes, not wanting to give him any satisfaction, but you can’t help but feel a shift between you two. “I’m going to be a good roommate for a second,” he announces. 

“Oh, yeah?” You scoff, placing down the plate you were scrubbing on the drying rack. “I find that kind of hard to believe, but go on, I guess.” 

Lando smirks, clearly enjoying your scepticism. “No, really. I’m going to invite you out to a party tonight,” he says, leaning back on the couch with that trademark smugness. “My friends are throwing something to celebrate the win. You might as well come with me. You’re already here, and it’ll be good for you to get out of the apartment. Trust me, you’ll love it.” 

You turn to face him, raising an eyebrow. “A party? With your friends?” The idea of spending time with Lando and his crew seems like asking for more arguments, but something in his casual offer piques your interest.  

“Yeah, with my friends,” he confirms, totally unbothered by your hesitation. “It’ll be fun. No arguing, no complaints. Just a good time. You’ll need a little distraction, considering how quiet you’ve been without me.”  

“You’re a saint, Lando,” you laugh softly, drying your hands on the towel next to you, “but I’ll have to pass.” 

Lando’s smirk falters, but only for a moment, before he stands up from the couch, stretching lazily. “Come on,” he says, his tone shifting to a mix of coaxing and playful challenge. “You’re going to pass on the chance to have some fun?” 

You regret your decision to prove Lando wrong, as soon as you step into the club. The bass thrums through the floor, shaking your ribs as lights flicker across the packed club. The air is thick with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and something vaguely expensive—probably Lando’s choice of venue. You’re still not sure why you let him talk you into this. Lando disappears almost immediately, swallowed by a sea of familiar faces, leaving you with a drink in hand and a mild sense of regret. You shouldn’t have come. This was his world, not yours. 

You take a sip of your drink, scanning the room for any excuse to leave early, when a smooth voice pulls your attention. “You look like you’d rather be anywhere but here.” 

You turn, and your stomach flips slightly. Oh. 

Charles Leclerc, dressed effortlessly in a fitted black shirt, his green eyes glinting under the dim lights, is watching you with an amused expression. 

You laugh, shifting on your feet. “Is it that obvious?” 

“Painfully,” he grins, sipping his drink. “Not a fan of the club scene?” 

You shrug. “More like not a fan of being dragged here by a certain someone who insists I need to ‘loosen up.’” 

Charles chuckles knowingly. “Let me guess—Lando?” 

“Bingo.” 

Charles shakes his head, smiling. “Classic.” He leans against the bar, his gaze settling on you like he’s studying you, intrigued. “So, what do you actually like to do for fun?” 

You end up talking to him longer than you expected. He’s easy to talk to, charming in a way that doesn’t feel forced. And when he suggests getting some air outside, you don’t hesitate. 

Lando doesn’t notice you leaving. Or so you think. 

When Charles walks you up to your apartment later that night, you don’t expect to see Lando leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, a frown etched onto his face. His eyes flick from you to Charles, jaw clenching. “Where the hell have you been?” His voice is sharp, accusing. 

You blink, caught off guard. “Excuse me?” 

“It’s two in the morning.” He points out, arms crossed over his chest as his eyes narrow down.  

You scoff, crossing your arms. “And? You go out all the time and come back whenever you want.” 

Lando ignores that. His gaze snaps to Charles. “And what are you doing here?” 

Charles raises his hands, staying neutral. “Just making sure she got home safe.” He then turns to you, “And I will be leaving, because I really don’t want my head chopped off, I’ll see you two later.” 

Lando lets out a bitter laugh. “Oh, how chivalrous of you.” Lando calls after Charles, scofffing as he turns back to you. 

You glare at him. “Lando, what is your problem?” 

Lando's jaw tightens, his arms still crossed over his chest as he glares at you like you’ve personally offended him. 

“My problem?” he scoffs. “My problem is that you just disappeared without saying anything. I turned around and you were gone.” 

You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I didn’t realize I needed to check in with you like a child.” 

“You don’t,” he shoots back. “But maybe let someone know before you run off with Charles fucking Leclerc. Because I don’t know what to tell your mother.” 

“My mother?” You let out a sharp laugh, crossing your arms. “Oh, so that’s what this is about? You have a problem with Charles now? Isn’t he your friend?” 

Lando shifts on his feet, jaw clenching. “I don’t have a problem with him. I have a problem with you sneaking off in the middle of the night.” 

“Sneaking off?” you repeat, incredulous. “I told you I wasn’t going to stay long. You were too busy chatting up multiple girls to notice.” 

He exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head like he’s trying to hold something back. “You shouldn’t have left with him.” He takes a step towards you, which would usually cause you to take a step back, but you don’t step down. 

“Oh my God, Lando.” You throw your hands up, exasperated. “I wasn’t kidnapped. Charles walked me home. That’s it.” 

Lando lets out a bitter laugh, raking a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure. Just being a gentleman, right?” 

You narrow your eyes. “Yes, actually. Not that it’s any of your business.” 

“It is my business,” he snaps, taking a step closer. “You live here. With me. And if something happened—” 

“Nothing happened,” you cut him off. “And even if it did, you don’t get to act like this.” 

Lando shakes his head, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. “Like what?” 

“Like you own me,” you challenge, voice steady. His mouth opens slightly, like he wants to argue, but no words come out. For the first time in the entire conversation, he looks caught off guard. You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “Unbelievable.” You push past him, reaching for the door handle. 

But before you can step inside, Lando’s hand catches your wrist. It’s not rough—just enough to make you pause. You look up at him, and for the first time all night, there’s something in his expression that isn’t just frustration or irritation. He hesitates, then his voice drops, quieter this time. “I didn’t—” He exhales sharply, like the words physically hurt to get out. “I didn’t like seeing you with him.” 

Your breath catches for a second, because there it is. The truth that’s been simmering under the surface for weeks, finally cracking through. You hold his gaze, your heart hammering in your chest. “And why is that, Lando?” 

Lando’s grip on your wrist loosens slightly, his thumb brushing against your skin, and for a moment, it feels like the world has stopped spinning. He looks at you, eyes darkened, as if he’s struggling with the words, unsure whether to let them slip. “Because…” He trails off, voice barely a whisper, a complete opposite of himself mere moments ago when he was yelling. “Because I care. And I didn’t want you running off with someone else.” His eyes flick to the ground before meeting yours again, this time with something softer, vulnerable. "I didn’t want to admit it... but I think I’ve been a total idiot." 

You blink, heart pounding in your chest as the realization hits you like a ton of bricks. You stare at him for a moment, completely dumbfounded, unsure if you heard him right. “You…” you start, but he interrupts you, his voice urgent. 

“I know I’ve been a prick. I know we fight constantly, but I—” He pauses, his hands fidgeting at his sides, clearly nervous for the first time in a long while. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t care about you. I just… I didn’t know how else to handle it. And when I saw you with him tonight, I…” He swallows hard, looking almost embarrassed. “I hated it. I didn’t want to feel like I was losing you.” 

Your head spins, trying to process what he’s saying. You blink a few times, trying to find the right words. “Lando… I thought you didn’t like me. I mean, the way you’ve acted, always arguing with me, always finding something to complain about—” Your voice falters, and you shake your head in disbelief. “I didn’t think you cared at all.” 

Lando’s eyes widen, a flash of guilt crossing his face. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again, as if struggling to form the words. Finally, he steps forward, closing the space between you, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I was just being an idiot. I never wanted to make you feel like that.” 

A silence falls over you both, the weight of his confession hanging in the air. You take a deep breath, your hand still resting where his had been moments before, and for the first time, you meet his gaze without the usual annoyance or defensiveness. “You’re such an idiot,” you mutter softly, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays the words. 

Lando lets out a small laugh, a genuine, relieved sound that makes your heart skip a beat. “I know. But I’m an idiot who cares about you.” 

He leans in to kiss you, but you put your finger on his lips, stopping him in his tracks as you chuckle softly. “Hold your horses, you better take me out first before kissing me, champ,” you say, your voice playful but with a hint of disbelief. 

Lando’s eyes flicker with a mix of surprise and amusement as he pulls back slightly, the tension between you two lifting. He raises an eyebrow, that familiar mischievous glint returning to his gaze. “Take you out, huh? Guess I’m gonna have to step up my game then.” 

You nod, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “I’m not that easy, Lando. You’ve got a lot of work to do after all the stupid things you said tonight.” 

Lando chuckles, shaking his head. “Fair enough, I deserve that.” He steps back and scratches the back of his head, looking a bit sheepish but still confident. “How about tomorrow? I’ll take you to dinner. No more arguments, I promise.” 

Your heart does a little flip at the thought of a calmer, less complicated night out with him. You try to play it cool, rolling your eyes. “I guess I could let you—hey!” You shriek as he throws you over his shoulder, already walking towards the door.  

You barely have time to protest before Lando's laughing voice rings through the apartment, his grip secure as he makes his way toward the door. “I’m serious. Dinner tomorrow, no complaints, no arguments. If you want your ‘I’m-not-that-easy’ dinner, you’re gonna have to accept the offer.” 

“Lando!” you cry, thumping his back in a half-hearted attempt to get free. “Put me down!” 

“I’m doing you a favour. You’re always so serious. It’s about time someone lightens things up!” He chuckles, effortlessly carrying you toward the door, his steps unwavering. 

You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. For someone who spent weeks driving you crazy, he was somehow making this moment feel lighter, better, despite your feigned indignation. When he finally sets you down in front of the door, you catch your breath, trying to keep your composure. “Don’t make me regret this,” you warn him, giving him a look that betrays the smile creeping onto your lips. “I’m not going easy on you, Lando Norris.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he grins, all charm and confidence, a lopsided smile on his face. 

“Fine,” you say, nudging him playfully. “But you are definitely apologising to Charles later.” 

“Oh, come on,” he protests with mock offense. “We can’t have a perfect night without a little argument, can we?” Lando watches you, his grin never fading, his eyes full of that familiar glint.  

You shake your head at him one last time, unable to stop the smile from spreading across your face. “You’re impossible,” you mutter, but your heart’s not in it anymore. 

He steps closer, that cocky grin still in place, and leans down, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. “You love it,” he murmurs softly, his voice teasing but sincere. 

You pause, staring at him for a moment, as if weighing the truth of his words. And then, with a small sigh, you nod, the heat rising in your cheeks. “Maybe I do,” you admit, your voice quieter now. 

[itoshiexx]

running your fingers through their hair

you are now reading... LENA'S 1K MILESTONE EVENT FIC!

↳ itoshi rin, michael kaiser, reo mikage (separate) + cafuné (n.) - running your fingers through the hair of someone you love

notes: omg hi guys! i'm freaking ALIVE!!! i know i've been terribly inactive but life as a recently graduated lawyer has been INSANE and i barely have time to breathe, let alone write. regardless, i was able to finish this after some struggle, and i really hope you guys like it! cafuné is a brazilian word and it's something i love very much, so thank you anon, @kyukiss and @etoiile for the request and sorry it took so long ♥

event masterlist

Itoshi Rin

“you remind me of a dog, you know?”

rin’s eyes shoot open with your unexpected words, and you receive the harshest glare you’ve ever witnessed on his face when it came to you. 

“excuse me?”

his tone is supposed to be threatening, but his voice is slightly laced with sleep, so it sounds a lot more like a whine. you snort a little bit, pausing your ministrations on his head, where your fingers run through his hair. 

“not in a bad way, baby. i just mean you’re like a puppy when you want my attention,” you giggled a little, and if rin didn’t love the sound so much, he would have berated you. 

“that’s absolutely not true.”

“it is, though. you came back from practice all tired and grumpy, and the first thing you did was put your head on my lap because you wanted me to run my fingers through your hair. you didn’t even showered, rin.”

“i did shower! on the locker rooms!”

you smile mischievously. “oh, i thought the dampness was from sweat. i was about to call you out for being stinky.”

rin’s grimace worsened, and a pout formed on his lips. you couldn’t resist the urge to squish his cute cheeks together. god, he was so adorable it tugged on your heartstrings. how was that even possible?

you lowered your head to give him a quick kiss, and although rin tried to deepen it, you pulled away fast, grinning once again. he knew what was coming even before you said it. “you’re also like a puppy when you trail after me around the house. a lost puppy.”

his groan reverberated through the whole apartment, and rin shoved your hands away from his face, scowling. “i fucking hate you.”

“no, you don’t.”

“i hate you. i’m serious.”

you giggled again. “so why didn’t you leave my lap then?”

his eyes met yours, and you kind of relished in the furrow of his brows. it made his pout even cuter. “…what.”

smugness radiated off of you, because you knew rin — your rin — like the back of your hand. and if there was an universal truth in the world, it would be that the younger itoshi was down bad for you. enough for him to stay despite your shenanigans that always got on his nerves.

“i said, if you hate me, then why didn’t you leave my lap?”

his mouth opened, but no retort came out. he gaped like a fish for a few seconds before groaning again, turning his body so that he could hide his face on your stomach. you laughed at his childish behavior, knowing it was one of the reasons you loved him so much. not many people were able to see this vulnerable side of him, and you were glad to be one of them. 

“shut up.”

“yeah, yeah. you big baby.”

comfortable silence engulfed the both of you, and rin remained hidden on your stomach as you picked up the book you were previously reading, wanting to continue the story. though your left hand was suddenly tugged to lay on your boyfriend’s head.

“keep going,” he murmured, “…please?”

a gentle smile took over your features, and you were quick to run your fingers through his dark, silky strands. rin sighed softly, content with the affection you gave him — as if your angelic hands could take away every doubt swirling on his mind and wipe off the tiredness from his sore body.

“of course,” you said. and your mind completed silently: i’d keep going forever if it made you happy.

perhaps you were down bad, too.

Michael Kaiser

contrary to popular belief, michael kaiser was not a bad boyfriend. 

despite his huge ego, his narcissistic tendencies and his extravagant yet somehow rude personality, he wasn’t the type of guy to treat his partner poorly. in fact, he was a very attentive boyfriend, always doing his best to make sure you were happy and healthy.

or maybe it was just you. who knows.

whatever his reasons were, you relished the fact he took such good care of you, even if he wasn’t physically present because of away games — because michael was very good at making people notice him. whether it was with a bouquet of your favorite flowers delivered to your job, a nice breakfast cooked before you woke or even a small note of love professions. 

however, nothing really compared to having him there, with you, flesh and bone. 

especially on those days you just felt so miserable you wanted to disappear. 

“liebling? you okay?”

it was one of kaiser’s rare day offs, and all you wished for was to spend some much needed quality time with your boyfriend. though, this wasn’t possible due to your job, one you liked having despite michael saying he could support the both of you financially.

but the day at work just sucked. like, a lot. it was that kind of day where things go from bad to worse in a matter of minutes, and when you swear it can’t get shittier, it does.

you were exhausted and emotionally drained. the whole drive back to your shared apartment you were holding back tears, and the dam broke the second you heard kaiser asking you that.

“whoa!” the blonde exclaimed when your bodies collided on a tight hug. “what is it, engel? what happened? did someone hurt you?”

his worried tone just made you sob harder, and kaiser rubbed his hands on your back, trying to give you some comfort. he started to sway your bodies together while humming, doing everything to calm you down.

eventually, your sobs died down, and your boyfriend carefully brought you to the couch, making you lay on top of him; head on his chest. he started to gently scratch your scalp, running his long fingers through your hair.

“you feeling any better?” he asked in a low tone.

“yeah. thank you, mikka.”

the blond only hummed. “do you… want to talk about it?”

you had to stifle a giggle. god, he was so cute. even when he sucked at talking about feelings, he always made an effort for you. 

you slowly shook your head. “jus’ had a really bad day. but it’s okay now.”

his eyes softened impossibly, and you nearly swooned at the sight. “yeah?” 

michael kissed your forehead, and kept threading his fingers among your locks in a gentle caress. you smiled, because it was all you really needed to be comforted.

“yeah.”

Mikage Reo

reo’s body collapsed on top of yours, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. you should have been used to it by now, really, since he’d always do that after you finished your smexy times, but sometimes it still caught you off guard.

“reo, you’re heavy,” you groaned, teasing him. “get off me!”

“give a guy a break, will you?” he whined. “i’m tired.”

your giggle reverberated through his body, and reo repositioned himself to lay his head on your chest, hugging your waist tightly as if to never let you go. he’d rather lose all his fortune before he let that happen. 

“is mr. athlete getting out of shape? i didn’t know this light exercise could make you so…”

your boyfriend interrupted you with a groan. “babe!”

you raised your hands in mock surrender, giggling again, and reo thought maybe he didn’t really care about your teasing if it meant seeing you this happy. he loved you in all your versions, but carefree was his favorite one. 

“sorry, baby. i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”

before he could make a suggestive joke, his breath hitched in his throat when your soft hands started caressing his hair, gentle fingers threading through his purple locks making him sigh. it was so unfair, he thought, how you managed to disarm him with just a small touch, reduce him to putty in your palms with a little gesture of affection. some of his friends said he was a fool in love, and reo couldn’t agree more. 

your love made him silly, but he didn’t hate it. he could never hate anything about you. all mikage reo was able to feel was love, love, love, an emotion so strong it nearly overwhelmed all of his senses, making him forget about all his worries and responsibilities — heck, even the whole world. and he didn’t mind if the world burned as long as he could keep you safe and away from the flames.

“what are you thinking about?” the whisper of your voice echoed the walls of your shared bedroom. 

“what makes you think i’m thinking about something?”

though reo couldn’t see you, he knew you rolled your eyes. 

“it’s usually how the human mind works, honey,” you answered, your wit making him stifle a laugh. “besides, you’re always so chatty, talking my ear off—”

“hey!”

“—so it always concerns me when you get quiet.”

the heir sighed, letting the silence linger a little longer to recollect his thoughts. reo usually didn’t have a hard time expressing himself with words, but sometimes his heart swelled so much it made it hard to think. so, pretty much every time he was with you.

“it’s just… i’m thinking about how i never really believed in past lives and reincarnation. i never really believed in soulmates, either,” he said, and you paid attention to every word. mesmerized by the wonder in his voice and even more by the sparkle in his purple eyes when he averted his gaze to yours. 

“but when i think about you, love… when i see you in my arms or when i rest in yours, i’m sure you are my soulmate, and that we were together in every lifetime. it’s always been you. it will always be.”

your chest swelled with love for the man laying in your embrace, and you tried to hold back the tears from falling. god, he was everything. you didn’t even know what you did to deserve a lover like mikage reo, but you were far from complaining. 

you gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead, trying to convey even a fraction of the love and adoration you held for him, and looked back to caress his face. then, smiling with the world in your eyes, you answered:

“it’s always been you, too.”

© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[paddockletters]

secret's out | lewis hamilton smau

pairing: lewis hamilton x reader summary: lewis accidentally reveals his secret relationship with you in an instagram story, sparking fan frenzy. request: yes/ thank you so muchhhh! author’s note:hey anon, i really loved and enjoyed writing your idea! thanks for you request and hope you like it and and sorry it took me too long❤

lewishamilton

lewis' imessage

y/username

liked by lewishamilton, f1 and 2,467,095 others

yourusername: i guess our secret has been reveled bt none other than my husband...

comments...

georgerussell63: you guys definitely made that podium moment legendary. Wishing you both all the best! 💪🏼❤️

danielriccirado: You guys, first you hid your relationship and then your wedding and you didn't even invite us…. I'm hurt

user1: the fact that george is his teammate and he didn't even know that lewis was married 😭😭

user2: ok, we already knew that lewis was very private but this, THIS is another level

charles_leclerc: took you long enough, Lewis! Wishing you guys all the happiness! 🥳

user3: can we just appreciate the casual hard launch AND a kiss on the podium?? absolute power couple energy 💯

user4: he way Lewis looked at you during the podium 😍 He’s been in love the whole time!!

user5: he fact that Lewis called you his wife on his story and we all lost it 🤣🤣 Congrats on your not-so-secret love anymore!

y/username

liked by lewishamilton, f1 and 3,456,955 others

yourusername: this secret and announcement took us less time this last time

comments:

lewishamilton: Can’t wait to meet our little one. Over the moon with you, love

user6: BABY HAMILTON?! Oh my God, I’m crying. This is the cutest news ever!! 😭🍼

georgerussell63: Congratulations!! Can’t wait to meet the future world champ! 🍼🏆

landonorris: BABY HAMILTON??? Alright, I’m officially shook. Congrats, guys! The paddock just got a whole lot more fun! 😂❤️

user7: Lewis is gonna be a dad??? IM NOT OKAY!!! CONGRATS!! 🥺❤️

danielricciardo: A little racer on the way? YES! Can I be the fun uncle? 😎🍼

user8: A podium celebration baby??? 👀 Looks like we know how y’all celebrated that win! 🤭

user9: he timeline is connecting… podium celebration = baby Hamilton?? You sneaky lovebirds! 😂💛

charles_leclerc: Wow, huge congrats!! The grid’s about to get a little bigger 😄

user10: OMG this baby is about to be more stylish than all of us. Already living their best life before birth! 👶🏽✨

Lewis' podium

The energy in the paddock was electric as Lewis’s car crossed the finish line, securing him a spot on the podium for the first time in what felt like ages. I could barely contain my excitement as I watched from the sidelines, surrounded by a sea of cheering fans. The moment felt surreal, and my heart raced as Lewis climbed out of his car, a triumphant grin plastered across his face.

As he approached me, still wearing his helmet, I couldn't help but notice the way the crowd erupted in applause and shouts. The deafening cheers seemed to fade into the background as he got closer. “Honey, I’ve done it!!” he shouted, his voice slightly muffled but filled with uncontainable joy.

The adrenaline coursing through my veins made me feel invincible. I laughed, my heart swelling with pride as I reached up to remove his helmet. The instant his face came into view, I felt the warmth of his excitement radiate between us. The crowd’s energy shifted, anticipation crackling in the air as they sensed something special was about to happen.

Lewis leaned down, his eyes locked onto mine, and in that electric moment, he kissed me deeply, right there in front of everyone. The world around us disappeared; all I could feel was the warmth of his lips and the deafening roar of the crowd as they cheered for us.

From that day forward, we became the couple everyone adored. Fans began sharing videos and photos of the kiss, turning it into an iconic moment.

As the weeks passed, our relationship was the talk of the town. But it wasn't long before the news of our little family surprise came to light.

It was late, the dimmed lights in our living room casting soft shadows on the walls as I paced back and forth. The small plastic stick in my hand felt heavy, like it held the weight of the world. My heart pounded as I stared at the two pink lines that confirmed it—I was pregnant.

I had imagined this moment so many times, rehearsing how I would tell him, but now that it was real, my mind was a blur of emotions. Excitement, fear, happiness—everything at once.

Lewis had just gotten home from the gym, his usual easy smile lighting up his face as he stepped inside. He dropped his gym bag by the door, not yet noticing the turmoil in my eyes.

"Hey, love. Everything alright?" He asked, walking over to kiss me on the forehead, his hands automatically settling on my waist. But as he looked down at me, his brow furrowed in concern. He knew something was up.

I took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his hands on me, grounding me. "Lewis, I… I need to tell you something."

His eyes softened instantly, the worry easing away. He pulled me closer, concern still flickering in his gaze but now mixed with curiosity.

"You’re scaring me a bit, babe. What’s going on?"

I bit my lip, the words almost stuck in my throat. My heart raced as I reached for his hand, slipping the positive pregnancy test into his palm. He looked down at it, confusion crossing his face for a brief second before realization hit him like a wave.

His eyes widened, flicking from the test to me and back to the test again. "Wait… are you serious?"

I nodded, tears springing to my eyes as a nervous laugh escaped me. "Yes, Lewis. We’re going to have a baby."

For a moment, it was like time stood still. He stared at me, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. Then, without warning, he scooped me up into his arms, spinning me around as a wide, joyful laugh escaped him.

"Are you kidding me?!" He was grinning from ear to ear, his excitement so contagious I couldn’t help but giggle, too. "We’re having a baby?!"

"Yeah… we’re having a baby." I nodded, my heart swelling as I saw how happy he was.

Lewis set me down gently, but his arms stayed wrapped around me, his forehead resting against mine.

"I can’t believe this," he whispered, his voice full of awe. "You’re going to be the most amazing mom, you know that?"

"And you’re going to be the best dad. Our little one’s going to be so lucky." I smiled, feeling the butterflies in my stomach.

He pulled back slightly, looking into my eyes, his expression soft and full of love.

"This is the best news I could’ve ever imagined. I love you so much."

"I love you too," I whispered back, my voice catching with emotion.

Lewis placed a hand on my stomach, still grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. "Our little secret," he said, his voice hushed, as if speaking too loud would make it any less real.

As the initial shock and excitement settled in, Lewis and I spent the rest of the evening curled up on the couch, talking about everything that lay ahead. The glow in his eyes hadn’t dimmed one bit; if anything, it had grown brighter with every moment.

"I still can’t believe it," he whispered, running his fingers softly over my stomach. "We’re actually having a baby."

I laughed, leaning my head against his shoulder. "It’s real, Lewis. You’re going to be a dad."

"You know, now that I think about it, when do you reckon we… you know, made this little one?" A playful smirk spread across his face.

I rolled my eyes at his cheeky tone. "Really? That’s what you’re thinking about now?"

"Well," he chuckled, nudging me slightly. "It’s not every day you find out you're going to be a dad. I’m just curious." He paused, tilting his head as if considering the options. "I mean, we’ve been busy lately…"

I snorted, shaking my head. "Busy is an understatement. We travel all the time."

Suddenly, realization dawned on him. His eyes widened, and I saw the gears turning in his head. "Wait… what about Monaco? You remember? After that podium…"

I froze for a second, my mind flashing back to that night. The celebration had been wild—Lewis had just gotten his first podium in a while, and we were on cloud nine. The champagne, the excitement, the adrenaline… and later that night, when we finally got back to our home…

I fele my cheeks flush. "Oh my God, Lewis."

He grinned like a Cheshire cat, clearly putting it all together. "That’s when it happened, didn’t it? The night of the podium celebration! No wonder the timing makes sense."

I covered my face with my hands, laughing as the memory came flooding back. "I can’t believe this! You’re right. That’s when it happened."

Lewis burst out laughing, clearly delighted by the connection. "No wonder I felt so invincible that weekend. Turns out, we had a little extra reason to celebrate!"

I playfully swatted his arm, though I couldn’t stop laughing either. "We’ll never live this down, you know. People are going to figure it out, and the teasing is going to be relentless."

He shrugged, still grinning like a fool. "Let them talk. They can tease us all they want. As long as I’ve got you and this little one, I don’t care."

I smiled, leaning into him, feeling the warmth of his words. "You’re such a sap sometimes, you know that?"

He chuckled, kissing the top of my head. "Only for you, love."

As we sat there, wrapped in each other and in the realization of what was to come, I couldn’t help but think about how crazy our journey had been so far. And now, with a baby on the way, it was about to get even crazier. But with Lewis by my side, I knew we could handle anything—even the endless teasing from our friends and fans.

"Just wait until the guys hear about this," he said with a wink, already anticipating the chaos to come.

I rolled my eyes again but smiled. "Oh, I’m sure they’ll never let us forget it."

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤPOST TOUR NAP * CHRIS STURNIOLO * BLURB

SUMMARY　::　Where Y/N and Chris finally have their first afternoon-post lunch nap after a whole month of Surprise Party Tour.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　no.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: Had my first afternoon nap today after years without one and had this idea 🤭.

It was somewhere around 3:07 p.m., maybe 3:11 if you counted how long it took for the dishwasher to hum to life in the kitchen.

It was dark - even though the sun still shined high up outside, paired with the soft whirring of the AC above their heads.

Y/N had gotten there first, obviously. She’d brushed her teeth right after she finished her plate, slipping into her - Chris's - favorite oversized pajama shirt. Now she was all cocooned up on the left side of the bed, curled inward with the blanket pulled over her head.

Her phone was somewhere on the floor, forgotten, her face still faintly warm from the leftover sunburn from their constant walks from one gas station to another when the boys' bus tour made its road pauses.

Chris finally padded in.

Barefoot, teeth freshly brushed, hair slightly messy. His shorts sat low on his hips, and he stretched his arms up with a deep, lazy sigh before walking over to the bed and lifting the blanket.

"Food was s'good, babe." He mumbled as he climbed in, voice gravelly and thick, words coming out like they were too heavy to carry, letting them roll out slow and warm.

Y/N, already half-asleep, turned her head just a little, barely cracking an eye open to find him through the golden light.

"Yeah?" She whispered, a small smile playing on her lips, her voice light and smushed into the pillow.

Chris let out a small hum, the sound vibrating in his chest before slipping out, all content and sleepy.

"Mmhmm. Missed your food s'fucking much this past month."

She chuckled softly, but didn’t answer, because Chris was already tugging her closer.

His big, warm hands found her under the blanket like it was second nature, sliding beneath her shirt with zero resistance, just to feel her skin.

Cold fingers, warm belly.

She twitched at the contrast and let out a little breathy laugh, which made Chris grin lazily.

"Sorry, sorry. Hands are cold." He said, even though he didn’t move them away. He just pressed them flatter, warmer now, against her waist, then her hips, then settled at her lower back. "Need to be close."

Y/N melted, humming lowly.

He tugged gently, so naturally, pulling her entire body toward his like he was some sleepy human magnet. Legs tangled without even thinking, one of his knees slipped between her thighs, the other looping behind her leg and keeping her still.

He was warm. Not hot. Warm. Like a heated blanket but with a heartbeat and muscles.

She snuggled in, arms folding up between them, tucked right against his chest. That spot between his ribs and exactly where their bodies almost smushed too close to breathe, but neither of them cared.

Her nose bumped his. His lips ghosted her forehead.

Chris let out another one of those soft groans, the type that wasn’t really a groan, more like a sleep-noise. Low and scratchy.

He shifted just a bit, getting even comfier - if that was possible - and then exhaled. His puff of breath hit her skin, hot and sweet-smelling, like leftover toothpaste and warm seasoning from earlier.

"This is heaven." He murmured.

She nodded into his chest, her arms pressing him tighter, nose brushing the curve of his jaw now, smiling faintly with the small hairs finally starting to grow freely after a whole month of constantly shaving.

"Missed this."

"Yeah." He agreed, sleepily. "Couldn't take another day of sleepin' like a fucking crushed jelly."

Y/N giggled, barely a sound, all muffled and soft, because how the hell did he thought of that?, and he smiled without opening his eyes.

He moved his head a little, awkwardly searching for her mouth, his chin bumping against hers too many times before finally meeting her soft lips, mouth barely moving but still pressed to hers.

Then he moved again.

One right on her cheek. Another on her nose. One more by the corner of her mouth that lingered longer than the rest. His lips were plush and slow, not rushed, just affectionate. Like he wanted to memorize her without actually waking them up.

She shifted her head again until their faces were ridiculously close, noticing how she was now laying on his pillow with him. Their noses brushed, again and again, in tiny, sweet nudges like they were dancing. And Chris, eyes still closed, leaned in and kissed her fully this time.

A lazy, slow-sinking kind of kiss, if this can even be called a kiss. All lips and sleepy love.

"Love you." He whispered, right into her mouth, like it was a secret.

"Love you more." She replied, and he smiled again, because that always made him wince a little - he never won that one, and she knew it.

They stayed like that. Breathing each other in. Her fingers curled into his shirt, just gently fisting it like she never wanted him to move.

Eventually, they didn’t moved anymore. The nap rolled in like a wave, the type of nap where you don’t even notice you’ve fallen asleep until you’re waking up hours later and the blanket’s slipped halfway off the bed and one of you’s drooled a little, but you still don’t wanna get up.

Because, finally, there was nothing else in their heads at that moment.

Just Chris to her.

Just her to Chris.

© vanteguccir

[jinwoosbabyboo]

I Fell Asleep?

You're insatiable sometimes yet somehow you fell asleep just as the boys were about to put in that work. A/N: Xaviers is a bit suggestive because that's my little horny rabbit cutie patootie [Requested by: zuhayaa]

Zayne

You woke up to Zayne smiling at you and caressing your cheek with his thumb.

MC: Did I?

Zayne: Yes you did I told you that you were too tired for such a strenuous activity, but you insisted

MC: Did you finish?

Zayne: I took care of myself

MC: In me or?

Zayne: I'm not an animal I tucked you in and took care of myself in the shower

MC: Were you thinking of me while you did it?

Zayne: You should go back to sleep

Rafayel

Rafayel: There she is

MC: Why is the sun up?

Rafayel: Maybe because thats how the sun works?

MC: but weren't we ... did I fall asleep?!

Rafayel: Yea I guess my performance was so lackluster that you decided to take a little nappy nap in the middle of it

MC: That's not it at all

Rafayel: it's fine you don't love me as much as you say you do

MC: Don't start I had a long day yesterday I didn't realize how tired I was

Rafayel: So it wasn't me?

MC: No Raf it wasn't you

Rafayel: Hell yea round 2 then ! *Pins you down*

MC: So soon????

Xavier

You woke up with Xavier nuzzled between your thighs placing soft kisses

MC: Xavier?

Xavier: I knew this would wake you up

MC: Did I….

Xavier: You fell asleep and I let you rest for eight hours

MC: *Pushes his head* Did you finish?

Xavier: No I waited for you ... please don't make me wait any longer *Intertwines his fingers with the hand you had on his head*

MC: You're ... such .... a freak

Xavier: Only for you

Sylus

MC: whoa whoa whoa

Sylus: Good morning to you as well

MC: What time is it?

Sylus: about seven hours past the time you seduced me and proceeded to fall asleep

MC: Im so sorry I didn't know I was that tired

Sylus: I had a feeling ... you could barely keep your eyes open when you got here

MC: Did you get to finish?

Sylus: Yes

MC: You kept going?

Sylus: Absolutely not. I'm a gentleman I finished elsewhere

MC: I mean .... You could've kept going

Sylus: *Grips you by the chin* I want you awake and alert for everything I do to you Princess

Honorable Mention

The LADS Men when you came home immediately trying to strip them down: