#impossible request? exactly

[localyardchicken]

If a gravity falls season 3 becomes officialized, I will watch all of season 1 and 2 of gravity falls for the first time

[doctorsiren]

Angsty Psychic Lawers AU stuff?

like Separation Arc or Disbarment era

yeah so I decided Reigen’s disbarment was only gonna be 6 months since that’s the length of time that Mob was stuck in the mindscape world that Mogami made, and so it’s then the length of time that Mogami is Mob’s mentor (and also this allows the ages to not be all messed up LMAO haha)

[yuriinadress]

Begging!!!! PRAYING THAT AVEX OR WHOEVER THE FUCK GETS THEIR SHIT TOGETHER AND JUST HAS ANOTHER STUDIO ANIMATE ICE ADO

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Your writing is amazing! I’ve been checking daily for new fics lmao

I was wondering if your requests were open would you be able to write some angst with a happy ending w/ Peanut?

Perhaps a Shy!Reader who has flirty banter with Logan. They’re on a mission and Logan has to make a quick decision on who to save — Reader or Jean and he saves Jean without thinking. Reader ends up surviving with a few injuries but her and Logan’s relationship starts to deteriorate. Logan’s not good with verbal apologies so he does acts of service — bringing reader food/drinks etc. reader is stubborn and Logan starts to get frustrated. He eventually proves himself to reader.

I’m sorry if this is confusing!! I’m not creative enough to write it myself and you’re really really skilled. Love your work x

a/n: I read this request and then read them together and my brain imploded because I loved it so much, no smut in this one Summary: Logan saves Jean on a mission and it's the wake-up call you desperately needed to understand that you will never be her. You can't stand to look at him anymore and he doesn't understand why you've stopped talking to him.

“What’re you thinking of doing after this?”

You shrug, leaning back on the uncomfortable bench seats and looking over at Logan. “Not sure, got any plans?”

Logan smirks and you immediately know whatever he’s about to say is going to send you spiraling. “Yeah, whatever you’re doing, sweetheart.”

Oh. My. God!

You know you’ve got it bad when something as simple as that has you swooning. It’s so easy to fall into this routine with him, to pretend you’re more suave than you actually are. Despite your usual tendency to fade into the background, you find it nearly impossible to do with him. 

Where someone else might let you stay quiet and go ignored, he seeks you out. He makes you feel seen and heard. Some days you don’t know if you appreciate it or despise it. You laugh a little, trying to hide just how affected by him you are. “Sounds good, Lo.”

He smiles and leans back on the seat, his arm coming around the back to rest lightly over your shoulders. You can tell from the look on Storm’s face that she’s trying not to laugh at you. You can’t blame her, you’re sure your eyes have tripled in size and you look absolutely stunned. 

Flirting isn’t out of the usual for you and him. Lately, though, he’s upped the game. Touching you more than usual, spending more one-on-one time together. You can feel it all building up to something. You’re shy, not stupid, you know when a guy’s going to ask you out. 

But it feels like he’s dragging it out longer than necessary like he’s enjoying teasing you a little too much.  “Alright,” Scott stands up and moves towards the back of the jet. “We’re almost there, get ready.”

You, very reluctantly, pull away from Logan and get to your feet. He walks past you, briefly squeezing your hand before joining Scott by the ramp. You grin, flexing your hand by your side and trying to memorize the feeling. 

The ramp lowers to the ground and Scott and Logan lead the way out. You’re expecting this to be simple. Stake out the area, find some information about the people running the warehouse, and figure out what exactly it is that they’ve been doing. 

The air is bursting with moisture. It’s suffocating, how humid it is, how it makes the material of your suit cling to your skin. You know the rest of the team can feel it. That it’s irritating them just as much. 

None of you want to be out here in the peak of summer, trying to be stealthy in these ridiculous costumes. Your thighs squeak every time they rub together. It’s beyond embarrassing. You know that that’s what has you all distracted. 

You’re struggling through ankle-deep mud and sweating buckets. So none of you are paying any particular attention to the area around you. Technically, you shouldn’t have to, you’re still about a mile out from where you need to be. 

You duck, hands coming up to cover your ears as Charles’ voice screams through your mind. It’s a trap!

Even with the warning, there’s no time to prepare. The ground around you explodes, grass and dirt flying through the air. Logan grabs your arm, he shoves himself in front of you and takes the brunt of the bullets. Splatters of blood hits your cheeks and he runs you both behind a tree for cover. 

The other three have all found their own cover and they’re struggling to figure out where the shots are coming from. You spot something in the underbrush and scream, “Behind you!”

It’s more of a warning to duck than it is to move. You throw your hands up, shoving the man away from them and sending him flying into the trunk of a tree. You swear you can hear the snap of his spine as it hits the bark. 

You look to Jean and nod towards the small clearing of trees. “Don’t,” Logan warns. But you’re already slipping out of his grip and solidifying the air in front of you. It provides enough of a cover, absorbing the bullets, and giving you all time to figure out a plan of attack. 

Jean moves beside you, eyes narrowing on the perimeter of your cover. “There are too many of them, more than I can count.” 

“How did they know we were coming?” Scott snaps, keeping an eye on the area behind you. 

Your arms struggle under the weight of your power. The more bullets they shoot into your cover, the harder it is to keep up. You’re forced to absorb their energy, push it out tenfold to try and keep the blockage solidified. 

“Guys,” you snap, “we need a plan. I can’t hold it much longer.” You grit your teeth, taking a step forward to try and push against the strain. It does nothing but make your bones ache. Logan shoots you a concerned glance, coming up behind you like he wants to take the weight off your shoulders. But there’s nothing he can do. 

There’s movement behind you, a boot snapping a twig in two. You can’t risk looking back but you can hear the worry in Jean’s voice. “Ten of them-”

You can tell by the sounds of their movement that the others don’t give her much of a chance to finish. Ororo, Scott, and Logan all shoot forward to deal with the threat. Ten isn’t much to worry about. But that doesn’t change the fact that the men in front of you haven’t let up and you’re about to weep from the weight of keeping the wall up. 

Jean stays beside you, brows furrowed in concern. She places her hand on your shoulder and closes her eyes. A second later you feel something like a cool blanket laid over you. The tension in your arms and core eases just enough for you to stop clenching your jaw so hard. Some of the strain eases away and you know she’s sharing it with you. 

But just as quickly as the relief was given, it’s yanked away. Jean jumps back with a gasp, “Flux, we need to move!”

“I can’t,” you shout, fighting to be heard over the sound of bloodshed and gunshots going off in front of and behind you. The others are steadily moving through the people surrounding you, but their numbers are still overwhelming. “It’ll all come crashing down,” you tell her. 

She glances towards the bullets, finally spotting the way they’re slowly, but steadily, moving through the thickened air. The second you let go you’ll be riddled with holes. “Shit,” she hisses. “Look, we can’t stay here much longer-”

She’s cut off by a loud bang. You’re so disoriented by the noise your hands drop to your sides. At the same moment, you hear wood splintering and cracking beside you. What has to be the largest tree in the forest creaks before it begins its descent down towards you both. 

You don’t what happened, or what they used, but it doesn’t matter. The wall in front of you is fading. You have seconds to get out of the way of the bullets and the tree, you’re not sure either of you is going to make it. 

“Jean!” There’s a flash of brown hair and Jean’s being tackled to the ground, safely out of the way of the tree and bullets. You feel something stinging against your shoulder and know the first bullet’s made its way through. 

You also see the tree is almost over top of you. You’ve always been a fight response in flight or fight scenarios. But when there’s nothing to fight, when you have nothing to go up against, you freeze. It’s horrible, you know it, but there’s nothing you can do about it. 

Even as you’re desperately screaming at yourself to just fucking move, all you can do is watch as the tree topples down on top of you. “Flux, duck!” The words trigger something in your brain just soon enough to drop to the ground. 

Scott releases a red beam, blasting through the tree and knocking it off course. You don’t even register the smell of burning flesh as you lay in the mud. Your blood is rushing so fast in your veins, there’s so much adrenaline pumping through you, you can’t focus on anything except the sound of your heartbeat. 

You let out a breath of relief, slowly lifting yourself up to your knees. You don’t hear any more fighting and you figure whoever they hadn’t taken down before, the beam took care of the rest. 

You look down, checking yourself for any bullet holes or serious damage but you can’t find anything. Something warm trickles down your shoulder, it drips across your arm and down your hand. 

You look at the blood curiously, it seems to steady a flow from the simple bullet graze you’d had earlier. “Oh my god,” Jean whispers your name and you turn around with a concerned look. 

You want to ask her what’s wrong but your eyes are trained on the way Logan’s arms are bracketing her. He’s practically on top of her, only now getting up to check on you. You get it, it was a stressful situation, he acted fast. 

But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the lump in your throat. It doesn’t ease the burn of betrayal. He saved her, not you. He chose her even though she doesn’t want him. The anger you’re feeling only makes it harder to be aware of your surroundings. 

It’s not until Scott kneels behind you a presses a gentle hand against your back that you lurch forward with a loud cry. The pain slams down on you all at once. The wind blowing gently against your back feels like someone’s dug razor blades in your skin and ripped. 

Feet rush towards you, someone kneeling beside you and grabbing your shoulders. Logan forces you up and makes you look at him before his gaze turns to your back. “What the fuck did you do?” He practically growls, lunging towards Scott. 

He grabs him by the collar and shoves him into the dirt. Ororo and Jean leap forward, trying unsuccessfully to rip him off. You try and keep your eyes open, try and stay focused. The pain is too much, you don’t want to be awake for this anymore. Every nerve on your back feels like it’s being forcefully exposed and plucked at. 

Your brain forces a shutdown and you slump into the mud, the world going black. 

When you wake up, you’re on your stomach. You’re a little dazed, not fully remembering how you got here. You try and sit up but there’s a steady grip around your wrists stopping you. “Don’t move,” Jean warns from somewhere behind you. 

You try and look for her but you can’t move much. Your head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, stuck to the pillow beneath you. “What happened? Why can’t I move?”

Her shoes appear in front of you and then she’s kneeling down, a slightly worried look on her face. “We needed to make sure you didn’t roll over in your sleep.” Her brows crinkle and she frowns, “You don’t remember?” You shake your head minutely. She sighs, lifting her hand to your face and pressing her chilled fingers to your temple. 

The images rush towards you. You see it all from her eyes. The way Logan had grabbed her and thrown her to the ground, checking over her and not once looking at you. How Scott had tried to stop the tree from breaking your spine. His beam had just barely grazed your back as you had ducked. But it was enough for there to be serious damage. 

Through her view, you can see the way your skin had bubbled up and blistered. How horribly damaged it was. You have limited healing abilities, but it was enough to stop the nerves from being permanently damaged. 

She lets you go and you groan, the pain slowly registering in your brain. It’s dulled and you don’t know if they’ve given you drugs or if your abilities are still working to help you. “How’s Scott?” 

She chuckles and shakes her head while she undoes the restraints around your wrist. “He feels awful. He keeps coming by to check on you.”

The thought of him sitting beside you while you were strapped down to the bed makes you feel a little bad. It wasn’t his fault, he’d helped you. It was more than Logan had done for you. 

You frown, hating yourself for being bitter. If he hadn’t helped, Jean might not be here next to you. He had saved your friend. The thought didn’t bring much comfort, though. “I’m not mad at him.”

Jean eases you onto your knees and slowly helps you sit up. It causes minimal pain, but it’s still uncomfortable enough to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palms. “I know, but he’ll probably be coming down here a lot to check on you.”

You almost ask her if anyone else has visited. If Logan had, but you don’t think her answer would make you feel any better. “He did,” she tells you and you click your tongue in irritation. 

“Out of my head,” you warn. She releases you with a small grin. “I don’t care,” you tell her, trying to appear nonchalant. 

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing on you. “Yes, you do. And I don’t need telepathy to know.” She walks towards your IV bag, fiddling around with something on the line. “He was here whenever he could be, practically lived beside you.”

“Don’t care,” you tell her again, but there’s less conviction this time. 

Jean frowns and you hate how guilty she looks. It’s not her fault he’s desperately in love with her and not you. You can’t force someone to love you or choose you. And you don’t want to. You want someone to love you for who you are, not because they couldn’t have their first choice. 

“Don’t,” you say lowly. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t get a chance to say anything before the door bursts open, both Logan and Scott sliding into your room. Scott lets out a relieved breath when he sees you. He breathes out your name and approaches with a guilty smile, “You’re awake.”

“Charles told us,” Logan informs. You offer him a brief glance before diverting your attention to Scott. 

Petty, you’re aware. But you don’t want to see Logan right now. You’d put so much effort and time into your friendship with him. It doesn’t even matter if he doesn’t feel the same way about you. You two are best friends, and he didn’t even try to help you when you needed him the most. 

So, you smile at Scott. You forgive him and you tell him you're fine. You chat with him and Jean while Logan just stares at you from the other side of your bed. You can’t make yourself face him. You don’t want to look at him, it makes you sick to your stomach.

Eventually, Scott’s guilt is slightly assuaged and he and Jean leave for the night. Logan is a heavy presence beside you, one you no longer can ignore. You shift around, pretending to fluff your pillows until he grabs your hand. 

“What’re you doing?”

You look at his hand and then at him. Whatever look is on your face is enough for him to release you and back off. “Getting comfortable,” you spit out, more venom in your voice than necessary. Something clicks for him, you can see it as it happens. 

He backs up and narrows his eyes down at you. “Right.” He frowns and sucks on his teeth, nodding his head silently. “I’ll come back when you’re feeling a little better.” You don’t miss the hidden dig underneath it all, the way he’s calling out you’re unusual behavior. 

“I think that’d be best.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, slamming the door behind him as he leaves. You jump at the noise and it makes you hiss as a twinge of pain shoots down your spine. You feel slightly guilty about the whole interaction. Then, you remember the way he’d been cradling Jean and you feel slightly vindicated. 

You’re sure he doesn’t even give a shit. He’s probably pouting in his room, wishing Jean was in bed beside him. 

What the fuck?

It’s all that’s been playing through Logan’s head since he returned from your room in the medbay. He’s waited days for you to wake up, so he can finally take a breath and let go of the anxiety that’s been plaguing him. 

He’d thought that he’d lost you in that forest. When he’d gone for Jean, he’d assumed you’d just be able to use your powers to knock the tree out of your path. Or make it melt around you. 

Honestly, he can’t put a finger on what exactly he was thinking. But he knew that you could protect yourself and that would be your priority. So he’d moved without really thinking and grabbed the person who would be collateral damage if your powers went haywire. 

And then you hadn’t saved yourself and all he could smell was your burning flesh. The smell has been stuck in his nose since you were brought back to the mansion. He can’t escape it. Everywhere he goes, he sees you burning and hears your screams. 

He’d thought that you were dead and there was a moment where he genuinely was so lost he could do nothing but watch as the others swarmed you. He couldn’t move, couldn’t help you. He could only stare at your still body and pray to anybody who could hear him that you weren’t dead. 

He didn’t know what he would do if he lost you before he ever got a chance to love you. 

He’d, irritatingly, imagined all the different ways he would finally tell you how he felt when you woke up. He’d prepared himself for every possible reaction, except this one. He hadn’t expected you to reject him before he ever got the chance to confess. 

Anger stews within him as he paces through his room. He knows that it’s unfair to be upset with you. You’d gone through something horrific and there had been doubts about your recovery. Of course, you’d act off. 

Except, you only seemed to be directing that at him. Had you been just as dismissive to Scott, the person who actually hurt you, he would have looked past it. He’s tempted to go back down and see you again, maybe try and make you see some sense. 

Instead, he decides to give you both some time to calm down. He doesn’t want to do anything he might regret while he’s pissed off. He’ll see you tomorrow and, hopefully, you’ll be back to normal. 

You’d thought Logan might have gotten the hint with how you behaved earlier. That was not the case. He’s back today and you can smell the breakfast food he’s brought you. The smell is wafting deliciously from an inconspicuous brown bag. 

But you know it’s from the restaurant that’s twenty minutes out of his way. You’re not petty enough that you can’t appreciate the forty-minute round trip he’d taken for you, but you still aren’t excited to see him. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles at you despite your clearly hostile energy. He tugs the chair towards your bed, ripping open the bag and pulling out enough food for the both of you. 

You think it should be considered a form of manipulation to call you that while you’re pissed at him. He has such a clear effect on you. You know he’s aware of it. He knows that when he calls you something sweet like that it makes your heart race and stomach flip. 

You turn your gaze towards your blanket. You pretend the thread pattern is the most interesting thing in the world so you don’t have to look at him. You’re sick of giving your all to men who couldn’t care less about you. 

You’re tired of being the second, third, fourth choice. You want someone to choose you first for once. And you genuinely thought Logan would be the man to do that. But he’d chosen Jean. You should have known. 

“Alright,” he huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at you. You’re pissed off that he’s acting like he’s the one who was hurt. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve never been this mad at me before.”

It’s his tone of voice that really grates on you. He genuinely does not understand what he’s done wrong. He doesn’t even comprehend the possibility that you might be mad he left you to die. Have you really become such a doormat?

Yes, you’re shy and generally reserved with the people you meet. But he is so different. You two met and it was an instant connection that you thought was reciprocated. You hadn't realized that you'd become so complacent in the relationship he thought he could get away with something like this with no repercussions. 

“You left me to die,” you snap at him, voice taking a pitch it never has before. You’ve never truly gotten angry at him. Pissed off sometimes when he teased you a little too much. But you’d never plainly shown anger at him. “You fucking left me behind and expect me to, what,” you scoff and shove the food back towards him. 

“You think some shitty breakfast is going to fix this?” His face contorts. It screws up into something like hurt and you worry you might have been too harsh. He doesn’t know how you feel about him. He doesn’t know that this would hurt you so bad. 

But, it doesn’t matter. You’re still his friend. You should have at least warranted a little concern. 

Just as quickly as it appeared, the hurt is washed away by his own anger. “I thought you could take care of yourself. Isn’t that what you’re always bitching at us about?”

If you weren’t so upset you might find it funny how quickly the two of you turned on each other. Clearly, there was something repressed between the two of you. Some brewing resentment that neither of you had ever acknowledged. The words are coming quickly now, without thought.

“Fuck you, Logan,” you snap back at him. “You didn’t give a shit whether I lived or died. You only cared about your precious Jean.” You spit out her name with so much venom it stings as it leaves your tongue. 

He laughs, getting out of his chair. He shakes his head and glares at you. His anger is always a physical thing. You know he’s pacing so he doesn’t do something worse, like destroy the entirety of the room. 

“That’s what this is, you’re jealous? Don’t blame your fucking incompetence on me.” You hate the way he’s speaking to you. Like you’re a little girl who's incapable of understanding even the most basic of concepts. He has such a patronizing look on his face, you want nothing more than to wipe it off. 

The tables beside you tremble, the vases of flowers rattling against the wood. “I’m your friend, Logan. You could at least pretend like you cared about me.”

He leans against the end of the bed, tilting himself forward until he’s aggressively imposing your space. You shrink back against the pillows, narrowing your eyes in disdain. “Don’t fucking pull that shit with me. I knew that your priority would be to save yourself and I acted accordingly. This wasn’t some goddamn ploy to get into Jean’s pants. Grow the fuck up, Flux!”

You flinch back at the volume of his voice. Unwillingly, tears pool in the corners of your eyes. It’s an involuntary response. Sometimes you just get so enraged that you have no other way to get rid of it than to cry. It’s infuriating to see the moment someone stops taking you seriously and starts to think you’re nothing more than a crybaby. 

Logan’s face pales and he winces, backing away from you. “I didn’t-”

“Enough,” you stop him, voice thick with unshed tears. He never calls you by your X-men name, it’s an unspoken agreement between the two of you. That’s a formality reserved for the other members. To each other, you’re nothing more than two people who care deeply for one another. 

Or, you had been. Before this one moment had blown your life and your back up. 

“I appreciate how much faith you have in my abilities, but the fact that your first instinct wasn’t even to protect me says a lot.” You take in a deep breath and shake your head. “Thanks for the breakfast, but can you please just leave?”

He looks like he doesn’t want to. You know he doesn’t want to leave. You two never fight like this. Even if there wasn’t a lot said, it’s still not normal for you. Maybe that should have been your first hint that things weren’t what you thought. 

It’s healthy to fight, to a certain extent. Sometimes it's needed. You two never have before and you know it’s just been brewing for a while, waiting to blow up. “I-”

“Get out,” you shout, and the tables beside you finally crumble under the weight of your emotions. They drip to the ground in an inorganic form of liquid wood. “Shit,” you hiss, glancing over at them. You wave your hand and they return to their normal state, but it doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have lost control at all. 

The door slams and you look up to find the room empty. You sink back against your bed and run your hands over your face. You ignore the way the skin of your back screams in protest. 

You embrace the pain, the fiery shocks running up your nerves as the bandages chafe against the wounds. You focus on that instead of how things have ended with Logan. You always had such high hopes that he might be the one you finally man up and confess to. 

You should have known you were wrong. You should have known that it would never have ended with him picking you over her. 

You’re permitted to leave the medbay the next day. You don’t see or hear from Logan for the following week. You can’t confirm if he’s purposefully avoiding you or not but you have to believe he is. You both live in the same hall. You don’t know how it’s possible to have gone this long without even catching a slight glimpse of him. 

You force yourself to suffocate the part of you that misses him. You picture the side of yourself that longs for his presence and imagine shoving a pillow over her face. You don’t want to ache and cry over someone who doesn’t give two shits about you. 

You keep reminding yourself over and over again that when things got rough he showed you his true colors. But it’s more difficult than you imagined to just completely disregard so much history with him. 

Besides, you hadn’t realized just how little you interacted with the others until Logan was out of your daily life. It’s so difficult for you to bond with people that when you’d connected with Logan you’d latched onto him. 

It’s a little pathetic, honestly. Being grown and eating lunch alone because you only had one friend. You wonder if your feelings for him were genuine or born from a desperation not to be alone. You don’t let yourself linger on the question for long. 

It’s as your training with the students that you finally see him again. 

“Has he made much progress yet?”

Jean shakes her head and purses her lips. She watches as Billy, one of the newer students, struggles with the logs in front of him. He was a firestarter, a very inexperienced one who had only ever set his curtains on fire. 

His powers were more focused on the mental aspect of things rather than the physical. Which is why you and Jean were in charge of helping him. He couldn’t start anything on his own, he only really seemed to be able to activate the ability when he was emotionally stimulated. 

That meant whenever he was mad or sad, or anything in between, everyone in a fifty-foot radius was in danger. He was a risk to the other students and you were both trying to be gentle with him. But you’d been working with him for so long and there was so little progress. It felt like he wasn’t trying sometimes. 

He’d asked Rogue out a week ago and when she’d said no, her hair had caught on fire. You know he could have been hurt and lashed out without thought or malice behind it. But you’d seen the look in his eye. 

You’re fifty percent sure he knows exactly what he’s doing. This little act he puts on is just to get himself out of trouble. You hadn’t brought the issue to Charles yet because you’re trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Billy,” you call out. His head whips up and he sends you a vicious glare. You can’t help the sneer on your lips. “Just take a deep breath and try again. There’s nothing wrong with struggling, we all did.”

You put on your normal teacher voice, calm and collected. Assuring. But the little shit in front of you isn’t buying it for a second. He gives you a sarcastic little grin, “Right. Sorry, I forgot you’re a fuck-up just like me.”

“Billy!” Jean snaps, taking a step forward to reprimand him. She doesn’t get far before there’s a fireball shooting out of his palms and hurtling towards the both of you. 

There’s no chance to react before something slams into your side and is tossing you to the ground. Your head nearly snaps against the grass but there’s a hand underneath your skull softening the blow. 

You smell something smoking and look up to see a large scorch mark right where you’d just been. Jean’s standing over it, palm outstretched as she keeps the fire subdued. She gives you a worried look, “Are you okay?”

Surprisingly, yes. You glance up to see Logan hovering over you. He backs off when he notices you’re okay, getting to his knees and offering you a hand. Wordlessly, you slip your palm into his and let him help you into a sitting position. 

“You alright,” his hand hovers over your shoulder like he wants to pull you closer. But he resists, backing off and waiting for your answer. You nod your head, still a little dazed from the failed assassination attempt. 

He narrows his eyes, searching your face for any sign of head trauma. When he’s properly assured you’re okay he jumps to his feet. “Billy!” His voice booms across the courtyard and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen that little asshole scared. 

He’s barely on his feet before Logan is stalking towards him, jerking him forward by the scruff of his neck and dragging him towards the mansion. “We need to have a little talk,” the tone of his voice has you a little scared and you’re not even the one he’s mad at. 

Jean walks towards you and helps you to your feet. “Is your back okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod and brush your clothes off. You have to physically shake the shock of what happened off. “Yeah, I’m fine. I can’t believe he did that.”

Jean scoffs and glares towards Billy’s back. Your eyes widen in shock when you see the large scorch mark across his arm. “Jean! He got you, are you okay?”

She glances down at her shirt and frowns. “Yeah, practically a sunburn.” She gives you a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine.”

As shitty as this sounds, you’re not concerned for her. You can only focus on the fact that she was in just as much danger as you and Logan had tackled you to the ground. You glance back towards the mansion, more fucking confused than ever. 

You’re not sure what compels you to follow Logan, but you’re running after him before Jean can stop you. He’s barely got a minute headstart on you, you’re not sure why you can’t find him. You’d gone through every inch of the first floor. 

You don’t know where he would have dragged Billy, but it’s nowhere you can find. After about ten minutes of looking for him, you give up on the hope that you’re ever going to figure out what’s happening inside his brain. 

You let out a defeated sigh, running a hand over your face and trying to shake off the funk of the day. You can’t believe that little shit tried to roast you. You’re not comfortable with the fact that he’s just roaming around inside the mansion somewhere. 

You turn out of the living room and nearly slam into someone. His hands shoot out, grabbing your shoulders and gently stopping you. “Logan,” you give him a strained smile. “I was looking for you.” You glance over his shoulder and frown. “Where’s Billy?”

Logan sighs, his hands linger on your arms for a moment before he takes a step back. “Wheels got to him before I could do anything.”

You laugh a little, the noise involuntary. “What were you planning on doing with the sixteen-year-old?”

He doesn’t find the question amusing if his expression is anything to go by. “He was really trying to hurt you.”

His words sober you up slightly and you drop the flippant attitude. “Yeah, I wanted to,” god, it feels like you could choke on the words. Just last week you were screaming at him for not helping you. Now, you could barely thank him because he had. 

“You’re always my priority.” He tells you before you can struggle any longer. Your head shoots up and you stare at him with confusion. He groans, the noise tired and resigned. “Saving Jean was a mistake. I mean it, kid, I just thought you could handle yourself.”

You open your mouth but he stops you before you can argue. “I know, that’s not the point. I should have saved you, no matter what I thought you could or couldn't handle.”

“No,” you stop him and shake your head. “No, Logan, I shouldn’t. I,” your mouth opens and he stares at you expectantly. What you were going to say gets stuck in your throat. This is a horrible idea. 

“I liked you in a way you didn’t like me and it was unfair of me to push my expectations onto you.” You wanted it to sound better, and more intelligent. Instead, it came out in one rushed breath and you’re not sure he even understood half of what you said. 

His brows furrow in confusion for a moment before a smile breaks out on his face. You’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that he’s smiling. You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or about to profess his undying love. 

You don’t have to wonder for long. He moves closer towards you, leaning forward until you’re practically sharing the same breaths. Unconsciously, you’re drawn into him, hands braced gently on his chest as you chase after him. 

“What are you doing?” Your whispered words brush against his lips and he gives you a small smile. His hands travel up your waist. He tugs you closer, his other hand looping around your neck and craning you up. 

“I’m gonna choose you every fucking time, kid.” His lips brush across your own and it’s like a switch is flipped in you both. Your arms twine around his neck, pulling him down until you’re practically melting into him. 

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so different at the same time. You always thought your first kiss would be after some cheesy first date. He would have taken you out to dinner. Something would have inevitably gone wrong, you spilled something on your dress or the waiter brought the wrong order. 

You would both worry that it was a sign that nothing would work out between you. And then, at the end of the night, he’d tug you into his arms and kiss you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held. 

That would be nice, but this is better. He’s not holding you like you’re something fragile or something too precious for this world. He’s kissing you like you’re the very air he needs to survive. He’s greedy with his affections and demanding with his wants. 

You’re being consumed and devoured. And you never want to stop. This is all you’ve ever wanted with him, from him. 

Sadly, you do have to breathe. You’re the one that forces the stop, you’re sure he would have happily suffocated if it meant he could keep touching you like this. You pull back, the air coming in short pants between your parted lips. 

You can already feel them swelling, the slight irritation on your cheeks from his stubble. You don’t mind, you quite like the feeling. He speaks before you can, a pleased smile on his face. “Forgive me yet?”

You chuckle, a little impressed by how cheeky he is, still slightly pissed off. “Why don’t you do that again and I’ll think about it?”

He rolls his eyes but you can see the smile fighting against his firm glare. “You’re really gonna make me work for it, huh?”

You smile and nod, leaning into him again. “You’re never gonna hear the end of it,” you whisper before dipping down and kissing him again. You can’t believe you ever doubted just how much he cares for you. 

He didn’t choose Jean over you. He’s just a dumbass. 

a/n: I had to resist putting in a “pick me, choose me, love me” line in there bc that would have just been too much lol

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 @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl ♡ 

[fairy-angel222]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃? 𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ⋆⭒˚.⋆༄

—gojo satoru x fem! reader

𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ your husband’s already given you two children, one more wouldn’t hurt right?

𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ cw: fluff, smut, breeding, praise, petnames, squirting, impregnation, dirty talk

𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ a/n: requested by anon, i loved writing this so much

Eight years.

You and Gojo had been married for eight years. Having met each other in high school, him being the one to get down on one knee the second you both had finished college. He knew you were the one for him ages ago.

That you were his from the moment he met you.

Some would say that you two were living the dream life, despite how young you both were. Gojo never hiding the fact that he was willing to spoil you day by night.

He loved you more than anything. And he never failed to show that through the many acts of affection. His favorite one being buried deep inside you as he whispered the sweet nothings into your ear.

The sex drive of your marriage was high, that was a fact. It was how you ended up with two children in the first place. Two girls who looked exactly like their dad, not even bothering to try with your genes. They had his complexion, his hair, his overly beautiful eyes. They had everything of his.

When you had your first daughter, most people in your life assumed she was an accident. Assumed that Gojo had simply “forgotten” to pull out.

They didn’t know how noisy you’d gotten that night, holding onto your husband tightly as you begged him to fill you up. Begged him to put a baby in you. You wanted to feel all of him.

Your second child was all him. Him begging to give you another one. To pump you nice and full with one more baby. And who were you to say no? You two were building a family and you loved it.

Four and two.

Those were your daughters’ ages, beautiful girls who looked almost identical to each other, obviously. You liked to call them and Gojo triplets. And it made his heart swell knowing that they were something you had both created. Together. Even though they clearly had a favorite already.

His daughters clung to him every second that he was around them. Refusing to let daddy go as your youngest sat in his lap with an adorable grin. Giggling softly as her big sister tied scrunchies into the soft bed of white hair.

“Mommy look! Daddy’s all pretty now,” she clapped, clearly proud of her work as she pulled lightly at the short ponytails.

You watched Gojo grumble under his breath, unable to hide his smile as he looked up at your standing frame. Cheeks tinted red when you laughed softly. “He is baby, he’s very pretty now. Looks just like you two.” Leaning down to peck both their cheeks with a smile of your own.

You yelped softly as you were pulled down, sat on the other side of your husband’s lap as he smirked. “You know who’s just as perfect as you two? Your mommy.”

Your older daughter hummed, cuddling into your lap with a nod. “You are very pretty mommy. Wanna look like you when i get big.”

You couldn’t find the words. As much as you knew that was impossible, it warmed your heart to the core. Especially when your other daughter nodded in agreement, fitting herself on you beside her sister. “You’re very very pretty mommy.”

“Thanks my babies.” You smiled warmly, an arm wrapped around each of them as Gojo wrapped one around you. “Now, you owe me a little kiss too.” He pouted. You giggled, pressing your lips to his in a short kiss before pulling away.

Neither of you wanting to hear the exaggerated ewww that escaped from your daughters’ mouths when you kissed for even a second too long.

You liked to think that you got lucky to have such sweet children. The kind that makes others actually want a child of their own.

—

You loved your life. Everyone could see that. But it had been way too long since you and Gojo were able to spend some alone time together.

It wasn’t your idea, it was his. And you couldn’t not give in when you allowed yourself to think about it. A weekend all to yourselves with complete privacy. A chance for you both to relax.

It was Friday, and you rung the doorbell to your dear friend Nanami’s house, a childish grin on Gojo’s face as he waited for the door to swing open.

Nanami raised a brow upon seeing you two, a cup of coffee in his hand as if you’d interrupted his peaceful morning.

“Uncle Kentooo!!” Two high pitched voices rung out. Little legs running to hug the blond man by his own. Nanami’s eyes widened momentarily, steadying the mug in his hand away from the two latching on to him.

A small smile gracing his face when they grinned up at him. “Well hello you two.”

Gojo grabbed the cup from his friend when your daughters started making upsie signals with their hands. Nanami picking them both up on either side of his torso, turning sharply on his heel as he asked them about their week.

“If that isn’t the sweetest thing I don’t know what is.” You giggled, Gojo’s hand on the small of your back as you brought in two pink princess bags. “So.. Kento-”

“We need a favor.” Gojo was quick to cut to the chase, Nanami not bothering to even watch him as he let small hands play in his hair. His emotions far from the bored expression on his face.

“I’ll watch them.”

“Thank you so much Kento. My parents will be coming for them tonight.” You smiled, the man only nodding with a hidden shrug. “You’re just lucky they’re nothing like him.” Pointing his head in the direction of the man sat next to you.

“Hey!” Gojo gasped in faux offense, “I’m awesome thank you very much.”

Nanami only scoffed. And you and Gojo stood up to give your girls a final hug and kiss to their foreheads. “We’ll see you on Sunday okay my darlings? Grandma and grandpa will come for you later yeah? Mommy and Daddy love you so much.”

“Uh huh, bye mommy, bye daddy!” They sung together, something else that they tended to do from time to time.

As you walked out of Nanami’s house, ready to go home and pack a few clothes, your head tilted. Confusion evident on your face when you looked up at Gojo. “Doesn’t he have work today?”

“Yeah but he adores them. He’d skip work everyday if he had to.”

It was true, Nanami was one of your biggest supports. He was always willing to take them off your hands for even an hour. He hated to admit it but he loved them like they were his own. He truly thought of himself as an uncle.

You found it adorable how serious he was until he was sure you left. Allowing himself to give into their tea parties and makeovers. He was one of the people you trusted most.

You knew that your daughters were in good hands for the day, especially since Nobara and Yuji would be there. Their inner children coming out whenever they were around your daughters.

—

Gojo had taken you to a hot spring resort nearly two hours away. One of the best that he could find.

You were in awe the second you stepped into the place. Never getting used to the amount of money Gojo was willing to spend on you.

The room was huge, and to say it was gorgeous was an understatement. But it paled in comparison to the view. The large steaming pools which were adorned with large marble sloped rocks and tall trees. The whole resort enclosed within mountains which seemed to touch the clouds. The sun setting behind beds of luscious green as the sky glimmered pink and orange.

It was perfect.

Snd the first thing you did after settling in was head into the heated waters. Breathing out contented sigh as you sunk neck down. Allowing the warmth to calm every last one of your nerves. The tension you didn’t even know you had in your shoulder slowing subsiding as you leaned your head back onto one of the large rocks.

“This is amazing.” You smiled, blinking your eyes open to look at your husband, who kept complaining that the area he was in was too hot. Not allowing himself to go any further than his legs until you pulled him into a hug.

Letting the water flow in place at your shoulders. Ignoring the over dramatic faces that your husband was making at the “heat”, simply resting your head in his neck as you relaxed in each other’s arms.

—

The tv blared ever so slightly as you cuddled into Gojo’s side. The coolness of the room unable to beat the warmth that still stuck to your skin. You had just got off a call with the girls. They were at their grandparents’ house. No doubt having way too much dessert before bed. Though they’d most likely get to stay up late watching cartoons.

“You know..” Gojo started, his fingers trailing soft shapes on your skin, “We should have another one.”

You lifted your head off of his chest, “I don’t think they’ll sell us drinks right now love.”

“I’m not talking about drinks.” Your stomach fluttered when Gojo turned you over, his knee in between your thigh as his lips ghosted over your ear. “I’m talking about putting another baby in you.” Allowing it to brush over your clothed clit.

Your lips parted in a whimper when he kissed down your neck. Swiftly pulling off your shirt to kiss at your chest, taking each of your nipples into his mouth while he fondled the other. Your hips bucking up into him when he began grinding his hips slowly into you.

You shivered when his lips touched your belly. Peppering it with small kisses as he hummed against your skin. “Let me make your belly swell.”

You moaned softly, nodding your head eagerly. “P-please.”

“Hmm, gonna give me a third one sweet girl? Gonna make us a pretty family of five?” He husked, kisses getting more aggressive as he trailed back up. His cock twitching at the little whimpers that you failed to contain when you made a noise of agreement.

“Mhm, ‘m gonna give you another one. Wanna give you another one.”

“Yeah?” He breathed, looking for that final bit of confirmation before his lips smashed onto yours. The kiss hard and needy as he worked on removing the rest of your clothes. His fingers dipping down between your folds with a groan. “You’re so soaked f’ me pretty.”

He ran his hand up your slit teasingly, rubbing tiny circles onto your clit making you whine out. “Toruu, no teasing.”

He chuckled, his thick cock prodding at your entrance as he lifted your legs to wrap around his waist. Your hands instinctively draping around his shoulders so that he was pressed into you. A loud moan sounding through the room as he sank into you.

You let a small mewl escape your lips with every movement of his hips. His thrusts gradually increasing in pace till he was hammering into you. Pulling his length almost all the way out before slamming it back into you.

Bright blue eyes met yours, your breathing getting heavier as your back arched off the bed. Nails digging into the skin of his back as you were rocked back and forth. Your husband’s thick cock stretching you out so deliciously as it repeatedly kissed your sweet spot. The position allowing him so deep inside you that he bulged lightly in your stomach.

“Toru, nngh— so good. Ahh.” You were getting noisy. Your cute babbles mixing with the loud echoes of his skin hitting yours. The mere force of his loving making it twice as loud.

You could only moan shakily as you pulled him even closer. Drool covered lips parting in sweet cries when your nails scratched down his back. “O-oh fuck. Ahhh.”

“Taking me so well. My pretty little wifey, can’t wait to see you carrying my child again. Fuck,” He grunted, squelching noises growing louder as your sticky pussy leaked onto your thighs and his. The whole roomed filled with your lewd sounds of pleasure as you both fell into each other. “Gonna fill you up real good baby. Stuff that messy pussy so full of my cum and watch that belly swell.”

Your legs trembled at his words, your hold on him tightening as the rhythmic slapping clouded your brain. Your vision blurring with tears as your stomach tightened. Every nerve along your walls being set on fire as you were fucked like you’d disappear in any moment.

Gojo’s sinking to elbows at the sides of your head for you to cry into his broad chest when you felt yourself nearing your high. “Toruu— so good Toruu, so g-good.”

“Hmm you’re close f’me,” he groaned, your pussy holding him snug as your body shook. “Shit, gonna make you a mama of three. Gonna give it to ya so deep— f-fuckk. Look at me when you cum.” He whispered lowly, your glassy eyes peeling open to blink up at him dumbly.

“Nngh— ‘m, a-ahhh, Toru ‘m so c-close.” You couldn’t think. Your brain unable to process anything but him and the way his cock was fucking into you so good. Your thoughts blanking out as you were engulfed by an indescribable pleasure. Mouth opened in a final cry as you fell off the edge.

“That’s it. Cum f’ me baby. Make a fucking mess on my cock. There you go— just like that.” His thrusts never slowed as a high pitched scream bubbled in your throat. Your body trembling uncontrollably beneath him as you let go. Sopping pussy gushing all over him just the way he liked it. His thrusts never losing their pace as you squirted with a continuous string of moans.

Your husband’s thrusts got sloppy. Head falling into the crook of your neck as he unknowingly slowed down. His thrusts hard and deep as he moaned into your delicate skin. Finding it adorable how your little mewls began to match his pace.

“Love this pussy so fucking much. Could pump her full of my cum every fucking day. Shit— here it comes baby.” His slow thrusts synced with his words, lips capturing yours hungrily as he buried himself deep inside you. Tip sat at your cervix’s entrance when his cock twitched. Spurts after spurts of the the thick substance flooding your insides with heat.

Gojo pulled away from you, a small string of saliva connecting your lips to each other’s. You stayed clung to him like a koala to a tree. Tiredly smiling up at him when he pecked your nose. “If we keep having children every two years we’ll end up with fifty grandkids.”

He chuckled, resting his forehead against yours. “So, what are we gonna name her?”

“Her?”

“We only have girls so far baby, i don’t think it’s in my blood to have a boy.” He joked, both of you laughing as you thought of any possible truth of his words.

“I wouldn’t mind a boy,” You sighed softly, using your finger to brush away the loose strands of hair that fell over his eyes. “I think he’d look just like you.”

Gojo’s hand rested on your belly, using his thumb to rub over it softly. “I’d love either, only cause i’d know that i made them with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I love you so much.”

“ And I love you more than you could ever imagine sweet girl.”

[loveanddeepthroat]

can i mc reader and sylus where mc ends up in hospital after a mission gone wrong and sylus shows up but she wants him to leave in case someone sees him there

Careless

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - You landed yourself in the hospital overnight after a mix up at HQ had you fighting too many Wanderer’s alone. You’re already bummed about being stuck at Akso, so the feeling of dread when Sylus turns up unexpectedly only adds to your unease.

Word Count - 2.3k

Warnings - Set in a hospital. Angst and fluff.

The incessant beeping of medical machinery echoing throughout the ward was getting to your sore head.

Akso Hospital was rammed full of casualties and emergencies, seeing as it was a Friday night. You felt a bit out of place amongst the partygoers and adventurous folk who had taken their fun a little too far.

In your opinion, you didn’t really need to be here. The eggplant coloured bruise on the right side of your forehead definitely looked a lot worse than it felt, but the doctors weren’t buying your claims that you weren’t in any pain.

Likely because you were wincing when you’d said it.

A night under their watch was what the doctor ordered, and it wasn’t up for discussion. You were just relieved that Doctor Zayne was working away for a week. He’d have checked you in indefinitely and scheduled an hour long lecture on why you needed to be more careful.

A mix up at HQ had the system only requesting that you attend a spontaneous Wanderer attack in Linkon Library. Just one had been reported, but seven of the ruthless bastards had accosted you the minute you stepped foot in the evacuated building.

Confident that you could handle them, you didn’t bother calling in for more Hunters. As it turned out, that confidence was misplaced, and the last thing you remembered before blacking out was a loud screeching sound. You had no idea what it was, but it hadn’t been important in your unconscious state.

When you eventually awoke in the hospital, Jenna had been hanging over you, immediately giving you the third degree for continuing alone. You should’ve known that the alert for only your assistance had been a mistake in the system, and you should’ve insisted that someone accompany you no matter what it had said.

She made sure to drill that into your head more than once.

Admittedly, you were glad to see the back of her once she had finally left. Your head was starting to throb with the volume of her voice, and all you wanted was the bliss of being unconscious again.

It was late now, and you were exhausted. Sleep was looking to be impossible tonight, however. There were several other patients on the same ward, all admitted with varying ailments. The injured man opposite you had done nothing but stare coldly from the moment he was wheeled in in a full leg cast.

You tried to speak to him. You offered him a polite smile, which was met with a sneer. Whatever his problem with you was, it was beginning to get on your nerves.

You just wanted to go home.

“Miss,” a softly spoken nurse greeted as she approached your bed. “There’s a visitor here to see you.”

You frowned, wondering if you heard her correctly over the hustle and bustle of the ward. It was well past visiting hours, and you couldn’t think of anyone other than your colleagues who knew that you were even at the hospital.

The man with the broken leg frowned, too. “What? She gets special treatment because she’s a so-called hero? I should get visiting rights, too!”

“Would you like me to let him in?” The nurse asked, ignoring the grumbling patient.

Him. That didn’t exactly narrow things down.

“Uhh,” you faltered, a little unsure. You didn’t want to cause any issues with the other patients. “Are you sure?”

The nurse nodded and smiled, though it looked a bit forced. It almost seemed like she was desperate for you to say yes to your mystery visitor.

“Okay,” you finally agreed. 

The look of relief on her face was not lost on you. She quickly hurried away to retrieve whoever came to see you, leaving you to endure the displeasure from the man opposite.

“I used to be a mailman, you know? If it weren’t for me, people wouldn’t have had their mail. Do I get special treatment, though? No, of course not. You Hunters get all the glory and adoration. And I’ll tell you another thing—”

“You’ve told her plenty.”

Prominent footsteps sounded from the doorway, the atmosphere immediately becoming heavy and tense. You almost choked on absolutely nothing at the sight of him.

Sylus.

Your eyes flared, heart hammering against your ribcage like a drum. He couldn’t be here. The risk was far too great.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the grumpy man sneered back, looking him up and down, “…vampire.”

It was a colourful insult, and one that made your unwelcome companion chuckle. “If you’ll excuse us,” he began, the swirling red vines of his Evol appearing to drag the man’s cubicle curtain to a close at a leisurely pace. “Mailman.”

To your relief, there was no backlash from the irritated patient across the room. Although that did make you wonder if he wasn’t retaliating by his own choice, or if Sylus had silenced him somehow. The latter wouldn’t have surprised you.

“What on earth are you doing here?!” you hissed quietly. “You can’t be here, Sylus.”

Crimson eyes didn’t meet yours, his cold gaze set only on the bandages around your head as he approached your bedside, closing your curtain behind him. He didn’t quite look like himself. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, green and blue veins prominently making an appearance.

“I’ll think twice before taking advice from a woman who was very recently knocked unconscious amidst a 7v1 Wanderer fight,” he rebuked monotonously. 

You scoffed. “I’m fine, if that’s why you came. Feel free to go back to—”

“Fine?” His face quickly turned from emotionless to severely unamused as he cut you off sharply. “That’s quite the contradiction, sweetie.”

You raised an eyebrow barely high enough for him to see your questioning expression. The gesture hurt, which wasn’t helping your case. “To what?”

He dragged a plastic chair towards your bed before sitting down, his ankles crossed in front of him. You couldn’t really read his demeanour. He almost seemed cross with you.

“To what I saw from Mephisto,” he responded tightly.

Mephisto. 

That explained the screeching you heard before you slipped into unconsciousness. “And what exactly was Mephisto doing there?”

Sylus merely shrugged, offering nothing verbal in response. The lackadaisy gesture did nothing but piss you off. You’ve told him countless times to stop sending Mephisto out to keep tabs on you, and each time it seemed to fall on deaf ears. 

He clearly was not pleased with you, but you weren’t stupid. He was here because you had concerned him. Sylus was a busy man, especially at this time of night. He wouldn’t have come just to berate you with words that could’ve been put into a text message.

Not that you knew where your phone was.

The atmosphere between you both fell into silence, only the sounds of medical machinery filling in the lack of conversation. You didn’t really know what to say to him, and he wasn’t typically the type to lose his words. But it was clear to see that he didn’t know what to say, either.

After a long moment, he cleared his throat, his hands flexing in his lap. “I told you those guns of yours were pathetic.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my guns,” you mumbled with a roll of your eyes.

“So it’s a skill issue?”

You glared harshly at him, flinching noticeably as you did. You weren’t sure what was bothering you more, the pain in your head or the mood that Sylus was so clearly in. 

His features softened ever so slightly as he recognised your pain. Still, that didn’t stop him from being an asshole. “It’s one or the other, kitten.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. If there was one thing you didn’t want Sylus to think of you as, it was weak. You weren’t sure why you cared so much, but you did.

“I suppose my guns are a little on the outdated side,” you murmured begrudgingly.

He smirked, his hands finally relaxing a little in his lap. The awkward atmosphere was slowly fading, which you were grateful for. You didn’t want to pry into his mind and make things worse again.

You buried your head a little further into the pillow beneath your sore head, letting your eyes fall shut for a moment. Fatigue was starting to settle in your body, almost dragging you into a swift sleep before your chilly hand was captured in a warm embrace.

Your eyes shot open again, finding Sylus out of his seat and leaning over you. His eyes were a bit wider than usual. “Have they checked you for a concussion?” 

“Yeah,” you told him gently. The close proximity had you flustered. “I’m a little concussed, but I’m allowed to sleep.”

His brows drew together slightly as he studied you. You’ve both had these strange little moments before, when his mask slips away just enough to see his true feelings.

“I’ll be fine,” you whispered in reassurance. “You should go, Sylus.”

He shook his head, his hand tightening slightly over yours. It looked like an effort, but he managed to smirk at you again. “Trying to get rid of me already?”

Beneath that facade of humour, he was a little bit wounded. You wouldn’t point it out, but you could see it. He was a stubborn bastard who wasn’t going to let you push him away, but he also didn’t like that you were trying to push him away.

It wasn’t as if you wanted him to go. Your relationship with him was…complicated.

Complicated in the sense that you weren’t in a relationship, but he had a habit of establishing a level of intimacy between you both that you weren’t blind to. Good morning and goodnight texts, constant invites to events as his plus one with no other reason than to be beside him, and random gifts left on your doorstep so often that your elderly neighbour recently asked if you were ‘getting some.’

A relationship with him would be very difficult to maintain. You both come from entirely different worlds that just could not merge. No matter how much you desired him, you had to maintain your composure.

“I’m not trying to get rid of you,” you sighed. “I just don’t like how careless you’re being by showing up here. Some people do worry, you know.”

He slowly lowered his loom over you so that his nose was just inches away from yours. You couldn’t help but swallow, feeling his steady breath on your lips as he spoke. It was intimidating and yet so intimate that you didn’t know whether to cower or cut him off with a kiss you never knew you wanted. 

“You don’t think I’m worried about you?” he drawled in a rather serious manner.

“That’s not what I—”

“Do you not realise how it looked through Mephisto’s eyes when you were walloped a great distance across a library and crumpled to the floor like a lifeless body.” His teeth were gritted in his mouth, the word ‘body’ coming out tightly like his tongue was rejecting the word. “You’re not the only person who is worried here. Do not brand me incapable of such feelings.”

Your mouth went a little dry, tears threatening to invade your eyes. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe in his worry, and you hadn’t meant for it to come across that way.

“I just don’t want you to risk your freedom for me,” you whispered shakily.

He lifted his hand from where it was holding him up beside your free hand, carefully moving some strands of your hair that had fallen over your bandages. 

“I’d risk it all for you.”

He had never said such a thing to you in all the time you’d been acquainted. You knew that he would carry out every need you might have of him. You knew that he would listen to you sit and ramble on and on about anything, never interrupting you. You knew that he cared about you.

But you were still in the dark when it came to the extent of that care.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he murmured.

Thankfully, you caught yourself before you were about to shake your sore head. “Just…trying to figure you out.”

A smile slowly spread across his lips. A real smile. It was enough to make your heart flutter, embarrassingly made noticeable by the heart rate monitor you were hooked up to.

“It would require a lot of brainpower to do that, sweetie. Maybe lose the concussion first,” he said in his typically sarcastic tone.

You managed your own small smile, which blossomed into a chuckle. This was the side of Sylus that had you coming back to him whenever he asked for your company.

His real side.

He kept his hand atop your head, avoiding the bandages completely. His thumb swiped gently over the parting of your hair, pulling you off to sleep again. You were pretty sure that he was doing it on purpose to force you into rest, but you were in no position to argue with him. You were officially exhausted.

“Would you really like me to leave, kitten?” he asked in a soft whisper as your eyes fluttered.

The very thought of him leaving made you a little upset. Despite your attempts at convincing the doctors you were fine, you damn well were not. You needed his comfort, and he needed to know that you were safe and on the road to a speedy recovery.

“No,” you whispered, succumbing to the soothing strokes on your scalp.

A soft brush of his lips was the last thing you felt before you finally drifted off, feeling secure enough to do so with his company.

“Good,” he’d whispered back before you fully clocked out. “I’ll always be careless so long as I get to you.”

A/N - Long time no fic post. I apologise, life has been crazy. I haven’t proof read this cause honestly I’m just too tired so I’ll read over it in the morning and edit any mistakes. Hope you’re all doing well! 🖤

[amirasainz]

What about reader is a team principal of a team and every driver and there girlfriend are obsessed with her?

Hahaha, omg this is so funny.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo

Obvious

The world of Formula 1 was unforgiving, relentless, and absolutely cutthroat. But there was one anomaly in the paddock that no one could quite figure out: Y/N, the 22-year-old team principal of McLaren. Her rapid rise to the top was a story everyone whispered about, but no one dared to challenge.

She was brilliant, tenacious, and had an air of authority that made her presence impossible to ignore. But what truly set her apart was the way she unknowingly had every driver—and their girlfriends—wrapped around her finger. They were utterly, hopelessly obsessed with her, and Y/N remained blissfully unaware, thinking it was just the normal way people treated their boss.

Exhibit 1: Dinner with George and Carmen

It was a rare off-day between races, and Y/N found herself in London at George’s request. The Mercedes driver had insisted on taking her out to dinner with his girlfriend Carmen joining them.

“I’m glad you agreed to come, Y/N,” George smiled as he pulled out a chair for her. “You’ve been working way too hard.”

Carmen leaned in, her eyes sparkling with admiration. “Yes, you need to relax sometimes. You’re always so busy.”

Y/N chuckled, feeling a bit flustered by their attention. “Thanks, guys, but it’s all part of the job, right? I mean, this season has been crazy.”

George leaned closer, casually placing his hand on the back of her chair, his fingers brushing against her shoulder. “You’re the youngest team principal in F1 history, Y/N. You’re allowed to take a break now and then. Let us take care of you tonight.”

Carmen nodded in agreement, her hand gently squeezing Y/N’s arm. “We wouldn’t want you burning out, would we?”

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth that she couldn’t quite place. “You guys are too sweet. I’m just trying to keep up, you know?”

The dinner passed with easy laughter and conversation, and Y/N was too busy enjoying herself to notice how both George and Carmen kept finding excuses to touch her—a hand on her arm here, a brush of fingers there. It was as if they couldn’t bear to be too far away from her.

---

Exhibit 2: A Mallorcan Escape with Carlos and Rebecca

The invitation had been impossible to refuse. Carlos had insisted on whisking Y/N away to Mallorca for a weekend of sun, relaxation, and good company. Rebecca was there too, constantly checking in to make sure Y/N was enjoying herself.

“This place is incredible,” Y/N said as she stepped out onto the balcony of their luxury villa, the Mediterranean Sea sparkling in the distance.

Carlos grinned, his hand resting comfortably on her lower back as he guided her to the sun lounger. “You deserve a break, Y/N. You’re always taking care of everyone else.”

Rebecca handed Y/N a cold drink, her smile warm and sincere. “Exactly. It’s our turn to look after you.”

Y/N blushed, sipping the drink as she looked out at the waves. “You guys are too nice. Honestly, I’m fine.”

Carlos laughed, sitting down beside her and casually resting his arm across the back of her chair, his fingers lightly grazing her shoulder. “Nice has nothing to do with it, Y/N. We just really enjoy spending time with you.”

Rebecca nodded, her hand resting on Y/N’s knee in a gesture that was both comforting and possessive. “We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Y/N just smiled, thinking how lucky she was to have friends like them, completely missing the way both Carlos and Rebecca watched her every move with an intensity that went far beyond simple friendship.

---

Exhibit 3: Shopping Spree with Pierre and Kika

Y/N had never been a big shopper, but when Pierre and Kika insisted on a shopping trip in Milan, she couldn’t say no. The day was a blur of designer stores, laughter, and playful teasing.

“You’d look amazing in this,” Kika said, holding up a sleek black dress against Y/N.

Pierre nodded in agreement, his hand resting comfortably on Y/N’s waist as he leaned in to inspect the dress. “Try it on. We’re not leaving until you do.”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “You guys are relentless. I’m supposed to be the boss, remember?”

Pierre smirked, giving her a light nudge toward the dressing room. “Not today, Y/N. Today, you’re our princess.”

Kika giggled, grabbing Y/N’s hand and dragging her along. “Exactly. And our princess needs a new wardrobe.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as she tried on outfit after outfit, completely unaware of the way Pierre’s eyes lingered on her every time she emerged from the dressing room, or how Kika’s hand never left hers for long.

---

Exhibit 4: Movie Night with Max and Kelly

It was a cozy night in Monaco, and Max had convinced Y/N to come over for a low-key movie night. Kelly had made popcorn, and the three of them were snuggled up on the couch.

“You’ve been working too hard again,” Kelly said, her voice soft as she adjusted the blanket around Y/N’s shoulders. “You need to relax.”

Max nodded, his arm stretched along the back of the couch, his fingers gently playing with the ends of Y/N’s hair. “Yeah, you need to slow down sometimes. You’re making us all look bad.”

Y/N laughed, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “Oh, please. You guys are the ones driving the cars at insane speeds every weekend.”

Max grinned, his hand dropping to rest on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. “And you’re the one making all the tough calls. That’s way more stressful.”

Kelly leaned in closer, her head resting lightly against Y/N’s. “We’re just glad you’re here. We love spending time with you.”

Y/N smiled, thinking how comforting it was to have Max and Kelly around. She missed the way Max’s thumb traced circles on her shoulder and the way Kelly’s fingers intertwined with hers under the blanket, as if they were afraid to let her go.

---

Exhibit 5: Yacht Day with Charles and Alexandra

When Charles invited Y/N out on his yacht, she thought it would be a casual day in the sun. But from the moment she stepped on board, she realized she was in for something far more luxurious.

“This is… wow,” Y/N breathed, taking in the sight of the pristine white yacht against the crystal blue waters of the French Riviera.

Charles smiled, his hand lingering on the small of her back as he guided her to a sunbed. “Only the best for our favorite team principal.”

Alexandra appeared with drinks, offering one to Y/N with a bright smile. “You deserve this, Y/N. You never take time for yourself.”

Y/N settled onto the sunbed, feeling the warmth of the sun and the company of her friends. “You guys are always spoiling me. I’m really not that special.”

Charles chuckled, leaning back beside her, his leg brushing against hers. “Oh, but you are, Y/N. You’re the heart of the paddock.”

Alexandra nodded in agreement, her hand resting comfortably on Y/N’s as they basked in the sun. “And we all adore you.”

Y/N blushed, not quite understanding why they were always so kind, but grateful all the same.

---

Exhibit 6: Golfing with Alex and Lily

Golf wasn’t Y/N’s sport, but when Alex and Lily insisted on a day out on the greens, she couldn’t say no. The trio laughed their way through the course, with Alex playfully showing Y/N how to swing properly, his hands guiding hers.

“You’ve got this, Y/N,” Alex said, his chest pressed against her back as he adjusted her stance. “Just focus.”

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushed from the proximity. “You make it look so easy.”

Lily watched them with a knowing smile, resting her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You’ll get the hang of it. You’re already a pro at everything else.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to concentrate as Alex’s touch sent an unexpected thrill through her. “You guys are way too nice to me.”

Alex and Lily exchanged a look, one that Y/N missed entirely as she tried to focus on her swing. They were both addicted to her presence, to the way she brightened every room she walked into.

---

As the season went on, Y/N continued to be the center of attention in ways she never quite understood. Every driver and their partners found excuses to spend time with her, to touch her, to keep her close. And though she often felt overwhelmed by their affection, she chalked it up to just having great friends in the paddock.

But to everyone else, it was clear: Y/N wasn’t just a team principal. She was the object of an unspoken obsession, the one person they all couldn’t bear to be without. And whether she realized it or not, they were all just a little bit in love with her.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

boob obsessed ethan!!

I have very few smut requests for Scream characters and I'm in that mood to write that... Please send more for Ethan and Billy (I can do Billy x reader x Stu too)

Warnings: 18+, boobs touching/sucking, Ethan being obsessed

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

It all started clicking one night you and Ethan were studying for finals. He was having difficulty concentrating, easily distracted by flipping his pen or even whistling, so you decided to give him a little bit of motivation.

‘’If you get five answers right, I’ll show you my boobs.’’ 

Automatically, Ethan’s eyes lowered to your boobs — still covered by your shirt — and bit the inside of his mouth to not moan. 

‘’And if you get ten right,’’ you added, ‘’I’ll let you touch them.’’ 

His jaw almost dropped. There was no way you were being serious. No one ever made deals like that and honored their part of the deal — except in his late night fantasies.

‘’Y-you’re playing,’’ Ethan said, shifting on the bed, feeling himself harden just at the thought of your breasts.

You chuckled, shaking your head. ‘’I’m not. You helped me when I was struggling last semester, now it’s my turn to help you. Do we have a deal?’’ 

Seventeen minutes later, you put the pile of flashcards down and Ethan held his breath, knowing what was coming. He got five answers right. It was an understatement to say he was nervous, however he was also so excited — very excited. 

You grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it off, then unclasped your bra, nipples hardening from the cool air of the dorm. 

Watched intently, Ethan let out a strangled moan, his eyes wide with wonder and staring directly at your chest. ‘’Holy fuck, those tits are so nice. Way better than what I imagined through your shirt,’’ he said, his blunt honesty making you laugh. ‘’Shit. Did I say that out loud?’’ His face flushed, embarrassed at himself. He really wanted to crawl into a hole and die right here.

‘’You did,’’ you confirmed. You gave Ethan a soft smile, pulling him out of his trance by placing your hand on his kneecap. ‘’Let’s not get distracted. If you want to touch, you gotta give me five more good answers. Remember?’’ 

Ethan nodded, shifting again to cover the slight tent in his pants. Controlling that part of his body was impossible. He took a deep breath and you hit him with the next question. 

It was harder to concentrate this time, his eyes dropping back to your chest every three seconds, but he did it, successfully correctly answering five more flashcards.  

‘’Can I touch them, now?’’ he asked shyly, his fingers tingling with excitement. 

‘’Go for it.’’ 

That's exactly what he did. Ethan placed both of his hands over your boobs, covering them with his palms and splayed fingers like a kid discovering something for the first time. He squished them both, his fingers sinking into the softness of your breasts. 

Ethan could feel his cock twitch slightly in his pants as he continued to feel you. ‘’Oh my god. Oh wow,’’ he said, breathing heavily. His finger tweaked your nipple, experimentally pinching at it and rolling it between his fingers, drawing out a soft gasp from you when he used more pressure than you were expecting. ‘’I could cum just from touching them—’’

‘’Ethan!’’ you gasped, shocked by his words. 

His eyes snapped up and he mumbled apologies, but you just laughed.

—

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[imaginedisish]

Guess (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys! Here is the enemies to lovers/hate fucking fic! Thank you to the anon who requested it <3 Sort of inspired by "Guess" by Charli and Billie. Enjoy y'all!

Summary: Logan hates you; you're sure of it. And so, you hate him too. But when you're forced to run drills with him, you're left to guess whether your frustration is genuine...or if it's something else. And it is definitely something else.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT!!! MINORS DNI!!!! Thigh riding, oral (m! and f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), cockwarming, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hate(?)-fucking, enemies to lovers, dom!Logan, kinda?mean!Logan (he gets nice dw), cocky!Logan, forced proximity, rough sex, manhandling, praise kink, reader has hair (no descriptions at all tho), so much sexual tension, afab!/f!reader, some fighting at the beginning, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4083 did I mention this is basically porn without plot

Logan knew exactly how to drive you insane. Knew exactly how to get under your skin. It was infuriating. He was infuriating. Him and his aloofness. He was unapproachable, impossible to talk to. And when you were able to crack his shell—to get him to speak—it was almost always to say something cocky, to be his frustratingly smug self. 

 And, naturally, Scott assigned you and Logan as partners to run today’s combat drills. 

“A-are you sure about this, Scott?” You ask, looking to the front of the gym, where he’s standing. “I usually run drills with Rogue, and we work pretty well to—”

“What is it, princess?” Logan mocks, cutting you off. “Afraid I’ll beat you? Afraid to get your hands dirty for once?”

You roll your eyes. “You are the worst, you know that?” Logan works his jaw, furrowing his brows. He stalks toward you. 

“Save it,” Scott says, hands on his hips, striding between you and Logan. “All you two do is bicker. It’s like watching a married couple fight.” You part your lips, ready to protest, but Scott cuts you off.  “Take your stances.” He looks to Logan, and then to you. “And no using your abilities, understood?” He tilts his head, waiting for you to answer. 

You groan. “Fine. Yes. Understood.” You shake your head, digging your heels into the ground and clenching your fists. 

Scott backs away, nodding to both of you. “On my mark,” he shouts, his voice echoing against the walls of the gym. “Ready,” he says, clicking the stopwatch in his hand. “And…” He trails off. Your eyes search Logan’s face, watching the way he grinds his teeth, the way his brows furrow. Your heart thumps in your chest, blood boiling through your veins. “Go!”

Logan lunges at you immediately, and you dodge to the left. “Here, kitty, kitty,” you tease, smirking, raising your hand and beckoning him closer. He growls, his knuckles white as he lunges at you again. This time, you meet the force of his body with a swift kick to the chest. 

But he grabs your ankle and twists, throwing you off balance. You crash to the ground, and Logan is immediately on top of you. He pins you down, straddling you, his hands gripping your wrists tightly above your head. You grunt, squirming underneath him. He smiles down at you—that shit-eating grin spread wide across his face. 

“What?” He coos, leaning over you, his face just inches from yours. “Cat got your tongue?” You can feel his breath on your lips, can feel the way his thumbs brush gently across the sensitive skin of your wrists. You’re suddenly…confused by how nice the proximity feels, his weight on yours. There’s something relieving about it. You can smell him—musk and pine, leather and denim. What the fuck is this? You think to yourself. 

You shake yourself out of whatever trance you’ve let yourself fall under, and knee Logan swiftly in the groin. He grunts, his hold on your wrists loosening, giving you the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist, swing to the left, roll Logan over onto his back, and straddle him. 

His hands reach for your hips, but you stop him, gripping his wrists. Your arms shake as he resists your hold. His force, his strength, it hurts—it’s almost too much for you to bear. 

“F-fuck,” you stutter, struggling to keep him down. You inhale deeply, concentrating. “N-not letting you w-win.”

He chuckles, slowly but surely overtaking you. “Let go,” he soothes mockingly. “Just let it happen. It’ll feel so good when you let me have this. No more pain.” You shake harder, trembling, heat building uncontrollably in the bottom of your belly. You swallow harshly, trying to ignore the way his words make you feel. “Let me win, princess.”

“N-no,” you protest, your grip on his wrists tightening. But it’s no use. He breaks free, his hands suddenly on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. 

“Too late,” he whispers. He rolls you back over, holding you by the hips, pinning you down to the ground harder than before. “Looks like I won after all, pretty girl.”

You squirm underneath him, bringing your hands to his chest, pushing against him with all your strength. But it’s no use. He doesn’t budge. “Not fair,” you huff, digging your nails into his t-shirt. He groans, and you swear he leans into your touch. 

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Stop that.” But something in his voice makes you think that maybe he doesn’t want you to. 

“Why?” You ask, squinting your eyes, only digging harder. 

“Goddammit,” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut. “Because you’re gonna have to finish what you start.” His muscles flex as he grabs your wrists with one hand, tearing them from his chest, while his fingers grip your hip tightly with the other. He pins your hands above your head, just like he did before. 

“Time!” Scott yells. But Logan doesn’t let go. He’s still holding you in place, your chest pressed to his. “Logan, time! You two are fucking ridiculous. You need to sort this out!” Scott yells again. Logan loosens his grip on your wrists, but he doesn’t let go. 

“What?” You spit. “You hate me so much that winning isn’t good enough for you?” You shake your head, pulling your wrists free from his grasp. You can feel the tension between the two of you sharpen like a knife. The air is thick and heavy, dizzying. His other hand is still on your hip, his nails digging into your flesh. It stings, but part of you likes it. Part of you doesn’t want him to let go. You secretly hope he leaves bruises, proof that he had touched you. But he hates you—and you’re supposed to hate him. You brush the feelings off and shove them down deep. 

“Get off of her, Logan,” Scott chides, his boots next to your face. “You won. The match is over.”

Logan’s eyes don’t leave yours as he lets go of your hip and sits back on his knees. You push yourself up and walk to the other side of the room, taking a swig from your water bottle. When you turn back around, Logan is still on his knees in the middle of the floor, staring at you. 

“Dick,” you mumble, not truly meaning it as the words fall from your lips. You turn back around and storm towards the doors, water bottle in hand. “I’m done!” You shout. You shove the doors open and head down the hall, away from the gym, away from Logan. 

And then you hear the gym doors swing open, crashing into the walls and slamming closed. A familiar set of footsteps thunders from down the hall. 

“Hey!” Logan’s thick, deep voice calls. You ignore him, entering the foyer and climbing the steps to your room. “I’m trying to talk to you!” He yells, his voice closer now. You get to the top of the landing, turn around, and there’s Logan, just a few steps away.

Your nostrils flare. “What the fuck do you want?” You snap, backing down the hall and towards your room as Logan closes the distance between you and him. Your shoulders hit the wall at the end of the hallway—there’s nowhere left to go. He cages you in, his palms pressing next to either side of your head. 

“I want to talk,” he grits, his face just inches from yours.

You scoff. “Oh, now you want to talk? That’s fucking rich!” You try to push him away, just like you did in the gym seconds ago, but he’s solid. He is made of Adamantium, after all. “Move,” you demand. 

“No,” he spits, pushing into your touch. “What the fuck is going on here?”

You furrow your brows, genuine confusion stretching across your face. “What the hell are you talking about, Logan?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about!” Sweat beads on his forehead, his muscles twitching as his hands press harder into the wall. He leans closer to you. “You have to feel it too.” 

You search his eyes, his face, for some kind of answer. You shake your head. “We hate each other, that’s all this is!” You insist, digging your nails into his chest. “Now get out of my way.” 

“I don’t think that’s really what you want, pretty girl,” Logan mutters, grabbing your wrists and forcing them above your head.  He closes the distance between the two of you. His forehead presses to yours. “Think you’re just confused.”

“N-not confused,” you stutter, the wetness pooling between your thighs betraying you. “Hate you.” He’s so close, the proximity beyond dizzying. All you can see, all you can smell, all you can feel is Logan. You try to fight the heat shooting down your spine, blossoming in your lower belly. But it’s no use. 

“Yeah?” Logan teases as one of his hands lets go of your wrists, his fingertips trailing down your side. “Then why can I smell this pretty little pussy crying for me, hm?” He bumps into the hem of your shorts, tugging teasingly. “You don’t hate me,” he whispers, his lips suddenly at the shell of your ear. “You fucking need me, pretty girl.”

He bites at the skin under your ear, and you can’t help but moan. “Logan,” you whine, squirming against his hold. You need to reach out and touch him, to feel his skin against yours. You’re melting, bending, breaking down around him. 

Logan lets go of your wrists, his hands grabbing your ass and hoisting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and let him carry you into his room, just a bit further down the hall. He holds you tight with one hand while he opens his door, slamming it shut with his foot. He strides over to his bed and tosses you onto it. 

He crawls onto the bed after you, sitting up on his knees. “Strip,” he commands. “Wanna watch you, sweetheart.”

You swallow, your throat bobbing as you grab the bottom of your tank top and pull it up your body, throwing it to the floor. Logan licks his lips, watching you closely. You tug the bottom of your sports bra next, suddenly nervous. 

“Doing so good for me, beautiful,” Logan praises. He nods. “Keep going.” 

Your heart flutters as you tug the sports bra the rest of the way—up and over your head, revealing your breasts. Logan works his jaw, grinding his teeth. You stare at him under hooded eyes, squirming as you work at your shorts and panties. 

But he’s too impatient, pushing you down onto the bed, doing the work himself. He shoves your shorts and panties down your legs and throws them to the side. His lips crash down onto yours, swallowing your moans, his hands running up and down your body. He palms at your breasts, his thumbs flicking your nipples, pinching roughly. He grabs your hips and rolls you over so that you’re straddling him. You can feel his erection straining against his jeans.

He sits up, his chest pressing to yours as he bites at your lips, drawing blood, kissing you bruisingly. He breaks the kiss to yank his shirt up and over his head. Everything is rushed and frantic, impatient and needy. You can see the starvation in his eyes—the pure, unadulterated hunger.

You lift your hips, working at his belt, sliding it through his belt loops, and throwing it to the floor of his room. You kiss his neck, licking underneath his jaw as you unbutton his jeans and pull down his zipper. Your lips trail the hollow of his throat as you tug at his jeans and boxers. You bite down on his collarbone, and he grunts, his fingers digging into your scalp, pulling your hair lightly. You moan as you continue your path to his chest, trailing open-mouthed kisses down his stomach, yanking his jeans and boxers down as far as you can get them, his cock springing free. 

His arms are spread wide against his headboard. He looks down at you authoritatively, assessing you. “Go on,” he husks. “Suck my cock, pretty girl.” He tilts his head to the side. You swallow at the sight of him, hesitantly wrapping your hand around the base of his erection. “No need to get all nervous on me now, sweetheart.”

You stroke him up and down, and he inhales deeply. “That’s it,” he coaches. He lightly pushes your head down to his cock, and you open your mouth, ready to take him inside. 

You wrap your lips around him, and he throbs inside your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his tip, and he grunts, pushing you further down his shaft. You slide down him, his head hitting the back of your throat. He’s massive—you’re not even halfway down and you’re already choking on him. 

“Feels so fucking good,” Logan mumbles as you slide up and back down, his hand gently guiding you. “Such a good girl. You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” His words send a pulse to your core, and you can’t help but grind down on his bare thigh. Logan chuckles darkly. “Want you to make a mess of my thigh, sweetheart,” he rasps, moving his thigh as you take more of him into your mouth. “Take what you need.”

You moan around him, your teeth lightly grazing his tip as you move up and down his length. You grind down on his thigh, spreading your slick. You hollow your cheeks, sucking hard, trying to take him even deeper. Your eyes water as his hips buck into your mouth. 

You slide up and down, letting him fuck your face, his hand still gripping the back of your head. But you can feel him holding back, can feel him tensing up. You keep going, his cock twitching in your mouth. “Fuck,” he curses, guiding your head up his shaft. “Gotta stop, beautiful.” Your lips slip from his cock with a pop, and you look up at Logan. 

“Why?” You whisper, kissing his tip teasingly, wiping the drool from the corner of your mouth. 

He whispers your name under his breath before shifting onto his knees and pushing you down into the mattress. “Because I can smell that fucking pussy,” he husks, trailing kisses down your neck, your breasts, your stomach. “Could feel her soaking my thigh.” He settles between your legs, spreading them wider with the palms of his hands. There’s something feral in his eyes. He breathes you in hungrily and groans. “Can’t wait any longer. Need to taste you darlin’.”

Logan presses a chaste kiss to your clit, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He licks a long stripe through your folds, flicking your clit before gliding back down. “Fuck,” he grunts against you. “Tastes so good. So fucking sweet, pretty girl.” 

He laps at you, his face buried against your cunt. “Lo,” you whine, his fingertips trailing up your inner thigh, finding your folds. “F-feels good,” you stutter. 

“Yeah?” Logan teases, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard. “This what you needed?” And then he’s plunging two fingers deep inside you with one sudden thrust. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

Your chest heaves as his fingers slip out and pump back in. “Logan,” you whimper, your legs trembling as his tongue draws tight, rapid circles into your clit. It’s so good, but you need more. You need him. “Lo,” you call again, your hands finding his head, your nails digging into his scalp.

He groans against you at the contact, the vibration of his voice rocking through your core. His tongue swirls around your clit, flicking roughly. You tug on his hair again, and he grunts. “What do you need, pretty girl?” He mumbles. 

“Y-you,” you stutter, your walls fluttering around his fingers. 

“Think you’ve already got me,” he teases, his fingers sinking deeper—down to his knuckles—hitting that sweet spot inside you. “What do you want, sweetheart? You too fucked out to use your words?”

You moan loudly, his lips wrapping around your clit again and sucking harder than before. His fingers ram into you, plunging deeper hit after hit. “Please,” you beg. “Need more,” you choke. “Need you inside me.”

Logan slides his fingers out of your aching cunt and licks one last long stripe through your folds before climbing up your body. He licks his lips, savoring the taste of you. “Would’ve eaten you out for hours,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours. He smiles against you. “Tasted so good. Gonna need more later, sweetheart.” 

Your heart thunders in your chest at his words. Later. But before you can think too much about it, he’s gripping your hips tightly and rolling you over so that you’re straddling him again. You can feel his erection pressing against your folds. 

“You need me this bad, princess?” He tuts, cocking his head to the side. He nods down to your aching cunt. “Then take it,” he demands, smirking. “Take what you need. Wanna feel you riding me.” You swallow harshly, grabbing his cock and guiding him to your folds. You’re suddenly nervous, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. 

His tip nudges against your entrance, and you shudder involuntarily. You slowly slide down, taking him inch by inch. “Fuck,” you curse, his cock twitching as you sink further. “You’re so—”

But then his hips buck up into yours, forcing you to take him all the way. “Perfect, feels so fucking perfect,” Logan moans as you cry out his name. You throw your head back in ecstasy. He leaves one hand tight on your hip while his other slides up your body, palming your breasts, pinching your nipples. “Go on,” he husks. “Keep going, pretty girl.”

Your eyes flutter as you slide up his length and sink back down, rolling your hips against his. “S-so deep,” you stammer, taking as much of him as possible. “So good.” 

Logan can’t help but rock against you, his hips bucking up into yours. You can tell he’s holding back—can tell he wants to fuck you into the mattress. So, you pick up your pace, sliding up and down his cock faster. “That’s it, sweetheart,” Logan praises, guiding the roll of your hips. “Doing so good for me.”

His hand slides down your body, slipping between your thighs. His fingertips brush your clit, drawing tight, rapid circles into the bud. Your hips stutter at the contact, your pace faltering. 

“Can’t take it?” Logan tuts, letting go of your clit—both of his hands gripping your hips now. He’s pushing you down, forcing your back into the mattress. “Then it’s my turn, sweetheart.”

Logan wastes no time—his cock is already inside you again. He feels deeper now—stuffed down to the hilt, bottoming out with ease. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, your hands coming up to his biceps as he rams into you. “S-so much,” you whine, his hand slipping between your bodies and finding your clit again. Your hips buck into his as he draws circles into the bud. 

“This better?” He asks teasingly. “Needed me to take you the way I wanted, hm?” He presses harder into your clit, his fingers swirling. You moan his name, unable to form a sentence, and Logan smirks. “I know, pretty girl. You needed my cock this whole time, didn’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer. Logan pounds into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing across the walls of the room. His pace is reckless, his cock dragging along your walls, pulling out and thrusting back in. “Needed you.”

“That’s right,” Logan rasps, flicking your clit with his thumb, pinching softly. “You just needed me to fuck you.” He pounds into you, faster with every thrust. It’s overwhelming, overstimulating, and you know you’re already close. 

Your walls flutter around him, squeezing him and taking him deeper. He groans at the feeling, his forehead resting against yours. “Logan, I’m…” You trail off as his pumps grow harder, faster. Your muscles contract and release, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. “C-can I come? Please” You finally cry.

Logan smirks. “Let go for me, sweetheart.” But it’s more than permission—it’s a demand. “Wanna feel you come.” His fingers swirl around your clit, his cock twitching inside you, pushing you over the edge. “Such a good girl,” Logan praises. “Don’t hold back.” 

Electricity lights up your spine as the tension cuts like a knife. It feels like a riptide dragging you under its current. Forceful and intense. You try to ride it out, try to come down from your peak, but Logan is still fucking into you. His pace isn’t growing sloppy. He isn’t faltering. He’s still going with ease. 

Your nails dig into his biceps. “Lo,” you whimper, his hips snapping into yours. “I…” You trail off, too overstimulated to speak. But the tension is already building back up, already sparking a fire in your belly.

“It’s okay, darlin’. I’m right here,” he soothes, stroking your clit. “But I’m not done with you yet.” He pumps in and out, still splitting you in two, still stretching you out. “Know you have another one in you.”

“Fuck,” you curse as he slams into you. Your walls flutter around him, your chest heaving with his. “It’s too much,” you choke. 

His lips capture yours, swallowing your moans. “You can do it, pretty girl,” Logan grunts, his pace faltering, his cock throbbing inside you. He circles your clit faster, harder, driving you closer and closer to the edge. And you know he’s not far behind. Your walls clench down around him, and his hips stutter at the feeling. “That’s it,” he praises. “Come on my cock again, darlin’.”

And then you’re falling, hard, your orgasm crashing into you. Ripples of heat course through your body, prickling your skin. Everything is pure fire, melting your limbs, scorching your bones. But it’s bliss. 

You hold onto Logan tightly, his forehead resting against yours. He curses under his breath. “Gonna fill you up, pretty girl,” Logan breathes, still thrusting in and out. His fingers slide away from your clit, his hand reaching under your back and tugging your chest to his. “You want me to make you mine?”

“Yes,” you beg, tightening your legs around his waist. “Lo, please.”

And then with one more rough thrust, he’s spilling himself inside you, filling you up just like he said he would. He’s warm and pulsing, flooding you, painting your walls. Logan chants your name and moans a string of praises as he comes undone. So fucking beautiful. Did so well for me. Wanna stay inside this perfect little pussy. Need more already. 

He stills inside you, his hips unmoving. He rolls off you, and you think this might be it. That he might put his clothes back on and tell you to get out. But he tugs you with him, still half-hard inside you, rolling you onto your side and into his chest, your leg hoisted above his hip.

With one hand on your waist, he brings his other to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing just under your eyes. “You okay?” He asks. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shake your head from side to side. “No,” you assure, burying your face into his chest. “Felt so good.”

His hand on your waist snakes around to your back, his fingers drawing patterns and shapes into your bare skin. “Felt perfect,” he whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. Comfortable silence falls over the room.

After a few moments, your soft whispers break the quiet. “Thought you hated me,” you confess, your voice slightly muffled against his chest. “I was so frustrated by you.”

He chuckles, the sound bassy and deep. “I think it was a different kind of frustration, hm?” He teases, pulling you closer, his cock already throbbing for more inside you. 

“Yeah,” you whisper, smiling against him. “Guess so.”

Logan laughs again. “You guess so?” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Darlin’, I’ve wanted to do that for months.” And then he’s pushing your back into the mattress, hovering over you. “I wanna do it again, right now.”

Your eyes widen and your throat bobs. “Please.”

tags: @Ifdybadgirlsdiw @xtwistedchaosx @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesslut @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @manipulatour

[themultifanshipper]

Soo I'd like to request Lando ...taming his little bratty girlfriend after date night.....with lots of unholy activities. Be creative and spontaneous...iykyk

You were thrown mercilessly onto the bed, Lando climbing over you and ripping open your dress to mouth at your tits.

“You've been fucking with me all night. Now it's my turn to fuck you until you scream”

Warnings: Dom Lando, sub reader, very bdsm guys, dirty talking, masturbation, restraints, use of multiple toys, PinV sex, PinA sex (technically), anal, oral, creampie, spit, choking, slapping, spanking, subspace, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, crying, honestly it would be shorter to say what's NOT in this fic

Okay, maybe you'd been a bit of a brat during date night. But who could blame you? You had the sexiest boyfriend ever, and he'd decided to wear your favorite suit.

Yeah, that one. The one he knew drove you absolutely wild for him.

So you decided to wear his favourite dress in retaliation. The one that went a bit too low and showed off a bit too much. It was his favourite colour too, and seeing it on you made him feral.

That was strike one.

Strike two was slapping his ass when he got up to go to the bathroom at dinner, in front of Charles and Alex, who you were on a double date with.

He glared at you before turning on his heel and storming off, but he still heard you giggling with the others behind his back.

Strike three was sliding your hand into his lap and slowly inching towards his rapidly growing bulge.

At first he let you indulge, wondering how far you would go, and your hand squeezed him through his slacks, getting him hard as a rock.

He was nothing if not an exhibitionist, but doing this in front of his friends was a bit much.

It's when your hand actually slid into his underwear suddenly that his knee jerked and hit the table, causing a slight distraction while he ripped your hand away and took a deep breath to calm himself down.

Strike four was pressing yourself all over Charles while hugging him goodbye. Charles was clueless, and Alex was quite amused by your antics that were obviously meant to rile up your boyfriend.

Strike five was when you pressed him against his car in the parking lot and slid your thigh between his, capturing his lips in a heated kiss.

Normally this wouldn't have been a problem, he rather liked being manhandled, but for the fact that there were paparazzi outside the restaurant and they got few shots of you two almost fucking on his car. And he knew you'd done it on purpose.

Strike six was when you tried your shit again in the car, trying to get him hard while he was driving, but he quickly shut that down and growled at you to wait until you got home.

Which led to strike seven. You decided to be even more of a little shit and start touching yourself in the car.

At first he didn't realise what you were doing, thinking that you putting your feet up on the dash was just to stretch your legs and get comfortable.

But when you spread them and he saw your hand trail down your leg, he gripped the wheel tight and took another steadying deep breath.

But it was impossible to ignore the wet sounds of your fingers inside your needy cunt as you thrusted them fast and hard to get his attention.

“I know what you're doing” he said casually, looking at the buildings pass by.

You hummed, slowing down your movements. “What's that?”

“You're trying to get me to pull over and fuck you, but it's not going to work. So why don't you pump those fingers some more and let me hear how desperate and wet you are for me”

You did as you were told and even added a third finger, stretching yourself out and moaning unabashedly next to him.

“Look at the state of you. Such a greedy fucking slut you couldn't even wait until we got home. Well you know what's waiting for you when we get there, right?”

You gasped. He knew exactly what his words were doing to you and you knew exactly what he was talking about.

Might as well enjoy yourself in the car while you still could.

Your other hand went down to your clit and rubbed it in tight little circles, just how you like it.

Your soft sounds of pleasure were driving Lando mad, but he managed to hold on to the steering wheel and not do anything stupid. The wait would be worth it in the end.

He could tell you were getting close by the little puffed out moans you were making, and he smirked.

“You want to come so bad, don't you?”

Your head snapped in his direction and you looked at him with puppy eyes. He refused to look at you.

“Yes, I'm so close. Please can I come?” you panted.

He chuckled “I'm not stopping you baby, if you want to come go ahead”

You let out a soft moan of triumph.

“But, if you come I'm not touching you for a month”

Your hips stuttered and you whined. “Nooo why?”

“Because baby, you've been a bad girl tonight. And bad girls don't get to come on their own fingers”

You squirmed in the seat. “Please! I promise I'll be good.”

He laughed at you “we both know that's an empty promise. You're too much of a brat to stick to your word”

You huffed like a child as you retreated your fingers and crossed your legs.

“You're so fucking mean”

There was a pregnant pause while he turned in to the underground parking garage.

“And that's strike eight. You sure you want to keep going?”

You eyes widened. Fuck. Eight already??

“No” you mumbled.

“No what?” he snapped.

“No, sir” you whimpered at his tone.

“That's better, now get out of the car”

Everything between that and him ripping your dress of was a blur.

But the threat of the eight strikes was ever-present in your mind.

One might think eight strikes meant eight spanks. But Lando had learned early on in your relationship that spanking you was useless, you enjoyed the pain way too much for it to be a punishment.

No, eight strikes meant eight orgasms.

And up to now you had only ever managed up to six.

As the dress lay discarded on the floor, Lando noted your lack of underwear and growled.

He sat back on his heels, and admired you from above, nothing but awe in his eyes.

“So fucking beautiful. Shame you're such a needy brat.”

You whimpered and he got off you to get a couple of things from the bedside drawer.

A bottle of lube, a ribbon to tie your hands to the headboard with, and then he paused, looking at the other contents of the drawer, wondering which ones he was going to use tonight.

You and Lando had amassed quite a collection of toys in there.

He finally decided on a vibrating plug, a dildo and vibrating wand.

He was going to need to be creative if he was going to get you to eight tonight.

The first orgasm was easy, his mouth was enough to bring you to your peak in no time, you having been on edge ever since dinner, and he even let you thread your hands through his hair to ground yourself while he devoured you like a man starved.

You lay there panting as he got the ribbon and tied your hands to the headboard.

“And what do we say after an orgasm?”

“Thank you sir” you replied diligently.

“Good girl”

He wasted no time diving back in with his mouth, paying special attention to your oversensitive clit with his tongue, making you writhe in his hold when you suddenly felt him slide three fingers in.

His fingers were quite a bit larger than yours and the stretch was delicious and it didn't take you much time at all to get to your second orgasm.

You barely had time to recover from that one before he turned on the plug and slid it through your folds, carefully avoiding your clit as you squirmed.

He started pushing it in, bit by bit until it was nestled in the wet heat of your pulsing cunt.

It was just barely grazing your g-spot and you let out a frustrated huff, the stimulation not quite enough.

“If you think this is going to make me come then you're sorely mista- Ah!”

The slap echoed in the empty room. Your eyes widened as pain blossomed across your puffy lips.

A couple of seconds passed in silence and he slapped your cunt again, this time catching the plug and you jolted as it pressed against your g-spot for a split second.

“Brat”

Another slap, this time right on your clit and you yelped as your thighs tried to close of their own volition.

Lando spread your legs roughly and pressed them to your chest.

“Keep your legs open” his voice was threatening as he looked at you with fire in his eyes.

Another slap. You cried out as the pain made wetness pool out of you and Lando laughed darkly.

“Look at you practically gushing around the plug. You're enjoying this aren't you slut?”

You couldn't even respond as he slapped you again, and again, and at every slap you just got wetter and wetter until you could feel it dripping over your rim and down your crack.

Lando's thumb came to collect some of the wetness and sucked it into his mouth.

“So sweet for me”

He slapped you again and you keened, you were so close to coming again it was embarrassing. You shouldn't be getting off on this kind of pain but there you were, about to come from him slapping your most sensitive parts.

“Lando! I'm gonna come!” you cried out.

“Good, do it. You're going to have to if we want you to get to eight” he smirked evilly and you whimpered at the thought.

His thumb trailed downwards again and stopped right on your puckered hole, just slightly rubbing the wetness around it and it only took one last slap, and a slight breach from his thumb for you to come, wailing as he used the distraction to slide his thumb in completely.

He took the plug out and turned it off. But didn't put it down as his thumb thrusted in and out of you gently.

He added a small amount of lube before sliding another finger in, then two.

He pulled them out after he deemed you sufficiently stretched, you were still shaking from your previous orgasm, and he pushed the tip of the plug in. It had been a while since you'd had something so thick back there and you let out a breath as he slid another inch in.

One more inch and you were halfway there, pulsing around the silicone as your empty cunt throbbed.

The flared base took some doing but he finally pushed it in gently, the plug popping into place as you gasped at the feeling of being full, but not quite full enough and you whined at Lando.

He chuckled. “So fucking greedy, wanna turn over for me love?” he asked as he untied your wrists.

You did so, settling on your elbows as you spread your legs behind you, exposing the plug to Lando.

He gave it a quick tug just to make you keen before taking the dildo and lubing it up.

It wasn't anything special, certainly not as big as Lando, but it was enough.

He slapped it against your clit once to get your attention, and carefully pushed the tip in.

It wasn't enough and you wiggled your hips to get him to hurry up which just earned you a sharp slap on your left cheek in response.

Your giggle quickly turned into a moan as he thrusted the dildo in at an angle so it rammed into your g-spot.

Yeah this motherfucker knew what he was doing.

He grinded it into that spot repeatedly and your arms quickly gave out, making you face plant into the pillows.

He just laughed meanly as your muffled wails reached his ears and he carried on.

“So good, Lando fuck!”

His hand landed another sharp smack to you ass.

“That's not my name darling” he chided.

“Yes sir, sorry”

“Good girl”

He turned the plug back on and the vibrations made your eyes roll back into your skull and you drooled over the pillow as the pleasure overtook you. For the fourth time you came, this time feeling the burn of the pleasure starting to border on pain.

He turned the plug off and pulled it out gently, making sure not to hurt you and set it to the side for the time being.

The sight of your hole clenching around nothing made him growl and he grabbed your cheeks, spreading them and spitting right on your greedy hole.

You felt utterly boneless as the dildo was also removed, but before you could feel too empty it was shoved back into you, in your ass this time.

You reached a hand back for Lando to squeeze and he did.

“Colour?” he checked.

“Green. So fucking green” you rasped and he chuckled.

“Good, because we're only halfway done, baby”

He put a hand on your upper back and pushed you into the mattress as he got into position to push his cock into your weeping cunt.

He was quite a bit bigger than the dildo and you cried out at the stretch as he started a relentless pace with his hips, while gripping the base of the dildo to drag it in and out of you at the same pace.

Your body was useless as you lay there and took it, pleasure coming in waves and you got closer and closer in record time as Lando felt you tighten around him.

“God you're such a good girl when you can't speak.” He groaned, hips stuttering “Taking it so well, like you were made for it, fuck-”

The praise made your head swim and you felt your body shake with the pleasure of your fifth orgasm taking over you.

Lando slowed down, pulling out the dildo first, then his own cock and helped you turn around so that he could see you.

He grapped a pillow and put it under your hips to raise them up and he noticed your eyes were slightly unfocused.

“You okay babygirl?”

“yeee” you slurred and he chuckled.

He picked up the wand and turned it on, dragging it across your body, passing over your sensitive nipples, making you squirm, and all the way down to your puffy, neglected clit.

Your reaction was immediate as the vibrations sent sparks flying throughout your body, toes curling at the intense pleasure.

But it was nothing compared to the feeling of Lando's thick cock pushing back into your cunt and he angled his thrusts upwards to knock into your g-spot.

You were so out of it you didn't register the different kind of pressure building in your gut until it was too late.

The first stream took Lando by surprise and he felt himself let out a spurt of his own before hammering into you as hard as he could.

That, plus the intense vibration on your clit made you squirt all over him, leaving the two of your lower halves dripping as you cried in overstimulation and he pumped you full of him as shudders wracked his body.

“So good baby, good girl squirting all over yourself, god-”

You didn't respond, taking a bit longer to come down from this one than the others.

“Good to carry on?”

You replied with a noise that was somewhere between a wail and a groan that he knew well enough by now basically meant ‘yep all good’.

He quickly took another smaller vibrating plug out of the drawer (yeah, you had a collection) and slipped it into you, making sure you were nice and plugged full of his cum. He switched it on and angled it upwards into your g-spot and tears streamed down your cheeks at the overwhelming mix of pleasure and pain coursing through you.

He then took the wand and circled it over your clit.

You yelled and he leaned over you to wrap a hand around your throat, which made your eyes roll back into your head and and let out a high pitched whine.

“So good for me baby, you look so fucking sexy, all full of my cum. I love you so much, you're nearly there. You can do one more for me can't you?”

Just as your orgasm was about to crash over you you cried out and your hips bucked up.

“Yes daddyyy-”

Lando’s dick twitched as he watched you fall apart under him, knowing you only called him daddy when you were deep under and numb with pleasure.

He turned the plug off, deciding to leave it in until he could get you in the shower.

He turned off the wand and put it to one side, he could clean everything once the sheets were changed and you were sound asleep.

That was only seven, but it was already a record and he didn't want to push you and accidentally hurt you.

He lay down next to you and his fingers traced patterns over your skin, mouth planting sweet kisses all over your face as you came back to him, the fog slowly clearing from your mind.

Once you were present enough, he kissed you deeply and held you close.

“You did so good for me darling, so fucking good. I'm so proud of you”

You all but purred as you cuddled into his embrace, starting to feel all the sticky lube and juices that you were both covered in.

You giggled. “We need to shower but I don't think my legs are working”

“In that case” Lande kissed you again “why don't I run us a bath?”

“Sounds good”

He got to work, starting off the bath, then put all the toys in the bathroom sink and started cleaning them while the tub slowly filled up.

Once it was full, he carried you to the bath, sitting you up so that he could slide in behind you and lean you back onto his chest.

His hands wandered over you as you soaked in the hot water, and once your mind was cleared completely, you turned your head to kiss him properly and run your hands through his hair, tugging lightly on the strands causing him to moan into the kiss.

You could feel him get hard behind you and you giggled.

“How many did I do?”

“Seven, baby. New record” he smiled at you and leaned back in for a kiss but you stopped him.

“I though we were doing eight?”

“Yeah, but the seventh took everything out of you and I didn't want to push you any harder”

Affection bloomed in your chest as his hands carried on roaming your skin.

“I love you. But I really was a brat earlier, I think I can go one more”

You glanced at the toys on the side of the sink and Lando followed your gaze.

“What are you fancying, love?”

You reached over and grabbed the wand, that happened to be waterproof, then settled on Lando's lap with your back to his chest.

“I want you inside me for a start” you removed the plug that was still inside you and sank down onto him quickly, making you both groan into each other’s mouths as you twisted around again to kiss lazily.

You turned the wand on and put it under the water, right on your clit.

It was like heaven, the hot water around you soothing, yet making the sensations so much more intense and you moved in sync with Lando, rolling your hips as he thrusted gently in and out of you.

He was so on edge he came before you, filling you up again and the feeling of him throbbing inside you pushed you over the edge and you squealed as your body slumped back against him.

You couldn't move so he took the wand and turned it off, throwing it back in the sink before wrapping his arms around you and kissing up and down your neck and shoulders.

“There you go” you said sleepily “eight strikes” you turned around in his arms, and you both dissolved into giggles and kissed sloppily, content in each other’s arms.

Next time, you would definitely manage to get nine strikes

[maxivstappen]

THE GREATEST

[ part two / masterlist / requests are open ]

☽｡⋆ being in a relationship with a formula 1 driver like lando was hard, but not impossible. right? a story based on THE GREATEST by billie eilish. — lando norris x fem!reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst! pure angst, swearing. i’ll write a part 2 if requested 𝄞 4.4k words

❝ I’m trying my best to keep you satisfied ❞

Loving a formula 1 driver, let alone being in a relationship with one, wasn’t easy. But that didn’t stop you. In fact, you were sure nothing was ever going to be able to get in between the love that Lando and you shared, the kisses and the late night cuddles, the fun family dinners and the celebrations of his milestones. Everything was so perfect.

Yes, sometimes it’s hard to meet his standards, sometimes having you leave your own family to go attend races with him, or the blatant flirting he would still be partaking in at after-race parties, it was definitely a flaw of your relationship, but maybe you should’ve just worn something prettier or done your makeup in a different way, in the end it’s your fault if his attention wasn’t keen on you, right?

But no matter what, you were ready to do it for him. He’s your main priority, just as he should be. That’s what makes a relationship a functioning one, doesn’t it?

❝ Let you get your rest while I stayed up all night ❞

Of course you weren’t always his main priority, but who were you to judge him? He’s a professional racing driver, it’s not only a job but a complete career, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in this world. Having a world championship under his belt, that was more important than you. You just have to live like that, someone had to put in the work for the relationship. And because it definitely wasn’t Lando, it was you. But you didn’t mind, you’d do it all over again for him. Because you truly loved him, and to you, there was nothing in this world stronger than love.

So when you both finally get home after a long race weekend, you don’t mind doing the cooking and cleaning and laundry for him. You also don’t mind him going to sleep while you’re up packing up luggage for him and you to depart for the next GP. You would’ve appreciated some skin contact after such a busy and nerve wrecking weekend, but if he needed rest, then he should have it. You could rest another time, maybe during the flight or while he was spending time with his friends. You weren’t sure why, but Lando always insisted on not having you with him, always making up excuses why you couldn’t come even if in reality, you were at “home” trying to get used to the new place you’d have to stay at for the next week. Maybe you would’ve preferred being with him, or having him with you, or being in your home country with your loved ones he was yet to meet, but that’s okay. He had his fun with his friends and their girlfriends, that’s what mattered.

Maybe he didn’t want you there because, while he dated a girl he’s known since forever, a girl who knew him before his win and his fame and his career, all the others were dating models and successful women. Maybe you embarrassed him a little bit, so you were understanding when he told you to stay at home. His fans didn’t exactly love you either, so actually, it was really thoughtful of him not to have you by his side when he went out, because then his fan base and the news wouldn’t be able to pick at every little flaw you had, which you had surprisingly lots of, as the media told you.

The clock read 5am when you finally finished packing up the luggage and went to bed yourself. Well, not the bed but rather the couch, because Lando had just previously told you not to wake him if he was already asleep, and who were you to rip him out of his peaceful slumber when he had so much pressure on him the last three days? It was a little cold, but that’s okay. It was just kinda difficult to fall asleep on the small, hard, uncomfortable couch.

The clock read 8am when you woke up to prepare breakfast for him and you.

❝ And you don’t wanna know how alone I’ve been ❞

You knew better than to complain. Of course you felt a little bit alone in the huge apartments while he was away, spending time at the track or in the gym with his friends. How could you not? You were in a country you’ve never been in before, a country with no familiar faces or friends or people you could talk to besides the McLaren team and well, your boyfriend. But in the end, Lando showed you the world. And you had to be grateful for that. Even if he basically just pushed you around the world and then picked you up again when it was time to travel farther. And god, how you missed your family. And how deeply you wanted them to meet your one and only love, Lando. It was sickening, the need to be at home again.

One time after a long day of qualifying, you told Lando about your homesickness and that you felt a bit alone on this journey.

He got mad and told you if you wanted, you could just leave. He’s not keeping you here. 20 minutes after, you were stood in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you. Your response to “Are you actually fucking crying right now?” was a quiet “I was just cutting onions.”

His reply to “I thought we were eating together, I made dinner” was “I’m going out to eat with Charles and his girlfriend.”

You felt your heart break in that second, but he was just mad and not thinking straight. Outbursts are okay sometimes.

❝ Let you come and go, whatever state I’m in ❞

You spent the whole evening and night crying, putting his food in the fridge in case he was hungry later. The tears didn’t stop until he came back through the door, obviously a bit tipsy. He quickly wrapped his arms around you and told you how sorry he was, telling you that next time, he would take you with him to dinner. You knew it wasn’t true, and he knew as well.

At least you felt his touch again, his arms around you and his rough fingers caressing your cheek. That was worth the tears and the unappreciated cooking.

❝ Man am I the greatest? My congratulations ❞

Miami GP ‘24. Lando’s first win in his Formula 1 career. You were the proudest girlfriend in the world and you couldn’t wait to celebrate his win with him tomorrow, knowing he’d be busy partying with the others today. You’re in Miami, after all. And he has just won. Of course he had to celebrate that with his boys, surrounded by beautiful women and loads of alcohol. He would never cheat on you, but you were sure he wouldn’t mind being in the presence of some women who were gifted with a prettier face and body than you were. That’s okay, at least he doesn’t use you for your looks.

As he stood there on the highest step of the podium, smiling like a little kid who had just fulfilled his dreams, smiling like he once had smiled at you, it made you so incredibly happy and emotional and you couldn’t wait to finally see him and give him a big celebration kiss.

Once he was back in the paddock he told you to wait until the cameras were gone. You didn’t get a hug either. Not until you were back in the apartment.

At last. you got your hug and a kiss. As a goodbye before he left with Max.

❝ All my love and patience, all my admiration ❞

The day after, you woke up at 7, waiting for him to wake up while you were already up in the kitchen, baking a small cake with a “one” on it, all decorated in orange.

Even if you were left unsatisfied yesterday, that didn’t stop you from still feeling eternally proud of him, and proud to be able to call yourself his girlfriend. He was so dedicated to the things he loved, it was a pleasure to watch him go through life with his determination. Racing was his passion, there’s no shame in sometimes forgetting your girlfriend for it.

He finally entered the kitchen at 12, smiling at the small cake placed upon the dining table. “Surprise!” You said, and he immediately went to hug and kiss you, smiling just as brightly as he did on that podium. Moments like these were a reminder that he did in fact love you, and once again, that it’s all worth it.

❝ All the times I waited for you to want me naked ❞

You often wondered how the others managed to keep up their relationships.

Just recently you were having lunch with the other WAGs at a restaurant near the circuit. Originally, you didn’t want to come, still feeling insecure about what the media has to say about you, the ugly duckling around the most beautiful women in F1 history. However, they insisted. At the table the girls began talking about the party after Lando’s win, and how proud you must’ve been to see him on that podium. You loved talking about it, until you were asked why you didn’t come with him to the party. A lame excuse of “I was just tired and not feeling well” made the others look at you weirdly. How could she be so selfish and miss her boyfriend’s afterparty for that? Alex, Charles’ girlfriend smiled at you with a knowing look, but you pretended not to notice, feeling embarrassed.

The next topic at the table was rather intimate, and you wanted to puke right then and there. Were you really the only one who hasn’t been touched in so long, because there just wasn’t enough time between all the travelling and racing and exhaustion? Or were you just not good enough? Was it really your looks? Should you change?

You missed it dearly, the intimate times with Lando. The ones where he finally took care of you instead of the other way around, the ones where you could feel the connection between you two with all your senses. Was it your fault that these times stopped? Lando was so perfect, it just couldn’t be his fault.

Maybe you just had to wait until he wanted you again.

❝ Made it all look painless, man, am I the greatest? ❞

You didn’t show your feelings often, not your real ones. The times he had catched you crying for him on you knees were pathetic little situations he shouldn’t have seen you in. When asked, you denied. “Do you feel lonely in this relationship?” — “No.” “Does he make you cry often?” — “No.” “Do you think your relationship is slowly breaking apart?” — “No.”

Talking about it with the women around the paddocks or when you’d facetime your friends from home, you never once said anything bad about Lando. Never once complained about how he treated you or how he ignored your feelings and your endeavors. Not even your closest friends knew what was really going on, or maybe, you just didn’t know that yourself. In your mind, this was just a phase where his career just made it impossible for him to focus on you. Someday this would change. Sooner or later, it would change.

For everyone else, you had the greatest, perfect, flawless relationship. And you didn’t mind keeping that imagine up. For his sake.

❝ Doing what’s right without a reward ❞

And so it kept going. You making efforts, him abandoning you. No matter what you did for him, no matter how much heart and love you put in for him, it was left unappreciated. But that‘s okay, still. You were in a relationship, your only task was to love him, and you did. Because that‘s the right thing to do in a relationship, and for him, you‘d do anything. No matter if he appreciated it or not at the moment, you knew that, eventually, he would.

❝ And we don‘t have to fight when it‘s not worth fighting for ❞

At least you hoped that he would change someday, so far he obviously hadn’t, and it was slowly getting to you in a more serious manner. In a way that might worry you and the people around you, in a way you wouldn‘t forget. That one time you prepared dinner for the both of you and he went out with Charles and Alex instead, it was all forgotten in a matter of seconds when he apologized. But now every single interaction he had with other women haunted you, asleep or awake. No apology would help you actually think he would change his current treatment towards you, and as it seemed, he didn‘t care either.

There was no point in fighting anymore, no point in telling him how you feel whenever he walks out the door, leaving you alone with nothing but your awful thoughts. For fuck‘s sake, you left all you had behind to be there for him, and how does he show his gratefulness? He doesn’t, because he isn’t fucking grateful, and he couldn’t care less about you and your dumb feelings. He doesn’t care that you want nothing more than to finally be able to introduce him to your family, he doesn’t care that you gave up your own career for his, and he doesn’t care that while he’s treating you the way he is, all the people who knew the both of you and basically the whole internet was only picking you apart. Never him.

Oh you were such a shitty girlfriend refusing to kiss him in front of the cameras after his first win, but wasn’t he the one who pushed you away? And how could you miss the party that night, the party dedicated to your oh soo perfect boyfriend? Do you not care about him enough? Were you not proud? So many girls would trade their life for a day in your shoes, and you just didn’t appreciate that? What a disappointment you are to the WAGs, and what a disappointment you must be to Lando.

“Lando please, listen to me,” — “No, I’m done with your insufferable complaining all the time. I meant it the first time I said it and I mean it now, if you wanna leave, leave.”

❝ And you don’t wanna know what I would’ve done, anything at all, worse than anyone ❞

You would’ve walked through fire for him to love you again. For everything to go back like it once was. When he would brag about you to his friends and even in interview, when he took you to hang out with his friends and to parties, always keeping an arm around your shoulders so other guys wouldn’t even dare to look at you, when he was so eager to fulfill not only his, but also your dreams, wether that be a simple one, like him meeting your parents in your childhood home, or the greater ones, like becoming not only a good, but a great graphic designer. When he would watch you draw and perfect yet the smallest details with nothing but the growing admiration for you visible in his eyes. When he would kiss you good night and good morning, when he would ask about your day and passionately tell you about his. Back to when he had loved you. But now it was too late. All the things you had done for him, all the things you would probably still do, in the end, were for nothing more than a broken heart.

The sleepless nights. The nerve wrecking days. The painful parting from your family and friends. The abandonment of the life with him you had so desperately wished for.

It was all for nothing.

❝ I loved you, and I still do. Just wanted passion from you, just wanted what I gave you ❞

Last day before the summer break, the last race. And probably, the last day of him and you.

You were done with his shit, the sad look on your face visible to everyone in the room as you sat and watched the race from the McLaren hospitality, his parents seated next to you. Something felt very off, your usual happy and optimistic demeanor completely washed off, replaced by a dark, almost expressionless look. They sensed that something might have happened between Lando and you, but nobody dared to ask, too busy watching the intense race.

The outcome was disappointing, Lando finishing behind Max, the one he’d have to beat to win the championship. The team and the people inside the paddock and the hospitality clapped for him and Oscar anyway, with Oscar finishing second and Lando fifth. You cheered and smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You knew what was to come once you’d be back in the hotel. You were scared, sure it would be the most painful thing you’d ever have to do, putting all the things you’d done for him, all the things he’d done to you, in its shadow.

The celebration went well, again, no hug or kiss for you. You were sure his mother had even scolded him for it, but that wasn’t important anymore. You didn’t really care anyway, the media would run their mouths about you anyway, and Lando surely doesn’t give a shit either way. You desperately needed an answer, you wanted him to explain it to you. What had suddenly happen, what did you do wrong, for him to suddenly act like this? And if he fell out of love, then why couldn’t he just tell you?

Meanwhile Lando was busy celebrating Oscar‘s podium, taking pictures for the McLaren instagram account and whatnot, then doing the post race interviews.

He loved you, he really did. But he just didn’t see you as someone he wanted to spend this life with. He couldn’t imagine living his private life without you by his side, he wanted you to come with him to visit his family at home, to come with him when he would meet up with Max and the others during summer break or really, he wanted to just do nothing with you, nothing but share small kisses and cuddling on his couch at home, eating some homemade food and drinking a glass of wine together. At the same time, he thought that you didn’t fit in. Not in this life.

You met when he wasn’t yet the person he is now. When he was still passionate about so many other things other than just racing. Of course this had always been a part of him, but so were you. And now its just racing that occupied his mind, no single corner in his head left for his girlfriend. He knew it hurt you, but at the same time, part of what the media had to say about you was true. The first season he had spent with you by his side, the internet was already raging about how you weren‘t the typical WAG, and how they thought seeing you next to someone like a Kelly Piquet, you did seem a little weird. Lando didn’t want to be confronted with these opinions anymore, so instead of standing up for you, he decided to ‘hide‘ you. To not put you in the center of attention after a race to hug and kiss you, to just let you stand there and wait until you were inside where no one could see you. He also avoided reading anything the internet had to say about you, so the fact that his plan had only made you gain more and more hate, went unnoticed. Just like your complaints when he didn’t want to be seen with you after races at parties or even in a restaurant for dinner with Charles and Alexandra. Of course they had invited the both of you, and not only him. Lando came up with an excuse so he the paparazzi wouldn’t see you. The rumor that Lando and you have broken up after he was seen at dinner alone didn‘t seem to bother him either, but it did you. He thought you liked it this way, as he thought, without any hate comments about your looks or the way you’d dress compared to the others. He thought you appreciated not having to dress up for parties or the countless hangouts with his friends. He thought you cried that night after he was out for dinner because you cooked for him and he just went out, not that you cried because you felt not good enough for him to want you to come with him.

He really was stupid enough to think you were happy with all of this.

And while he was happy to be able to finally spend his summer break with you and only you, it all came crashing down when you were back in your shared apartment. Tears were forming in his eyes while yours were already streaming down your face as you yelled at him, telling him every yet so small detail that left your heart crushed and broken while he was busy „hiding you“, or as he explained it to you, „protecting you.“ this wasn’t protection, this was blatant ignorance. And finally in this relationship, you did something for yourself. You left.

Maybe it was miscommunication, or him refusing to communicate at all. But that didn‘t matter now, ‘cause now, it was over. No more kisses, no more cuddles and no more meeting friends or families. But most importantly, no more crying, no more sleepless nights, no more unappreciated support, no more hiding.

❝ I waited and waited ❞

Finally at home, your family had expected to see you with Lando by your side, and they were so very excited to finally be able to meet the guy their lovely daughter was head over heels for, using every chance she had to gush over him and how unbelievably proud she was of him. So when you stood there with puffy eyes and all your luggage placed next to you, they knew the tears you cried weren’t happy tears from finally behind home again. They were tears from saying goodbye to the life you were ready to spend with your boyfriend, who was now on the other side of the world.

You knew it was stupid, but you couldn‘t help waiting for him to reach out to you again. A call or a message, hell, you hoped he was as miserable without you as you were without him so that maybe Max or even Oscar had to contact you again. Despite all the times he had hurt you, you missed him so dearly.

But after months and months of waiting, you decided that there was no use in waiting. It’s over, and its for the better, it has to be.

It was gonna be hard seeing him again, once the summer break is over. Even if the love between Lando and you ended, your love for Formula 1 didn’t, and you weren’t about to give that up just for the sake of not having to see him. You‘d be in the stands or in front of the TV, he‘d be in his car or in front of the camera. No point in worrying. But still, the first few races, you watched curled up next to your best friend and your parents from home. It was so nice to finally be able to see everyone again, everyone you had to miss all these months you were away. Your dad and you used to always watch races together, and you were more than grateful to finally be able to do exactly that again.

❝ Man am I the greatest? God, I hate it, all my love and patience – Unappreciated. You said your heart was jaded, you couldn’t even break it, I shouldn’t have to say it … ❞

His instagram and twitter definitely make it seem like your broken heart doesn’t match his perfectly fine one. He seemed happier than ever, having fun with his friends at parties and driving around different towns with different girls. Seeing him was draining, but how were you supposed to never hear about him again when the entire internet was screaming his name? You wanted your life to finally feel easier now, but it seemed to only get harder.

You felt you lost your soulmate, while he only lost his greatest burden.

It wasn’t until you watched the first race after the summer break with your dad that it all came flooding back to you. Lando crossed the finish line first, and as the camera switched to show him get out of his car and rip off his helmet to kiss his new girlfriend that looked weirdly similar to you, surrounded by loud cheers, clapping and ecstatic, smiling faces, you realize that maybe, he really didn’t love you. And that he didn’t *want* to kiss you after his races, because it seems that if he had wanted to, he would’ve.

At the same time, even while standing on the highest step of that podium, Lando couldn‘t help but think about you, how stupid he was to treat you like a piece of shit when all you wanted was to be there for him after races like this one and most importantly, why the hell no girl he‘s been with after your breakup felt even remotely close to you. You were the greatest thing he‘d ever had, no trophy, no price would ever compare, and he managed to take it all for granted.

If he had just put in a little more effort, really, you could’ve been the greatest .

[reidrum]

I can't stop thinking munch!spencer x reader who's insecure about having thick thighs (it's me, I'm reader)

take a seat | s.r

hi thank u for requesting!! i tried to be ambiguous about reader’s size but if it doesn’t come across that way lemme know and ill fix it!!!

wc: 1.7k

cw: 18+ smut minors dni, afab reader, face sitting, munch!spencer my beloved, insecure!reader who i took to be a little self indulgent sorry, fluff, hurt comfort but no hurt lol

this is also not proofread sorry

_______________________________________________

the thing about spencer is if you have any fear or qualm about anything, his main verbal form of comfort is information. and it’s not a bad thing, not at all. finding comfort in the facts is what spencer hopes to achieve when he spews his tidbits. it’s just, sometimes it’ll do more harm than good, or even worse, do nothing at all.

that’s where you’re at right now, sitting in spencer’s room with your legs tucked under you while he sits up at the head of the bed. the top buttons of his dress shirt are undone, tie strewn somewhere in the room. you’re still fully clothed albeit in a loose t shirt and some panties. the want in his eyes is undeniable, his question still lingering in the air.

you weren’t exactly the most confident person, but was anyone really? did people really wake up in the morning, look at themselves in the mirror and say, ‘wow, i look beautiful today.”? tell themselves they’re going to have a good day because they said so?

so when you’d spent your whole life living in the shadows trying to blend in and just do your job, one day an ever observant spencer reid saw you struggling to carry your coffee and your bag into the bullpen and came to your rescue before it could spill all over you. you were a mumbling mess, uttering thank you’s and i’m so sorrys and i’ll be more careful next time. but his gaze on you was unwavering, even in the face of your uneasiness, and firmly but softly told you nothing was wrong, and suggested that maybe you and him should get coffee before work to avoid this rush next time.

falling in love with him was too easy after that.

spencer never failed to make you feel cherished, loved, safe, always going above and beyond to care for your needs and wants. the trust you had in him was immense and you knew he would never steer you astray.

so sitting in front of him on his bed while he adorns a small smirk asking, no telling, you to sit on his face, made you falter a bit.

“you want me, to sit on your face?”

he nods, “yeah.”

any thought you’ve ever had vanishes from your brain, “b—but, won’t it be uncomfortable? for you?”

“not at all.”

seeing spencer be surprisingly calm about this is having the opposite effect on you, creating the unsettlement in your gut. like he’s been thinking about this for while, has wanted you at his mercy in a way you haven’t experienced before, has thought through all the facts and possibilities and ruled with absolute certainty that this was what he wanted, needed. and right now your body is betraying your mind as the heat pools between your legs.

but that brain of yours, a blessing with its vast knowledge but a curse at how easily a single thought can send you into a deep spiral, is working overtime to convince you that this isn’t really what he wants.

he can see the cogs working overtime and scoots closer to you and places a comforting hand on your thigh to rub soothing shapes with his thumb, “what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“nothing i-“ you stop before you can get too deep.

his eyes look at you expectantly, luring you to continue.

“what if i hurt you?”

“that is literally impossible.”

“what if i suffocate you?”

“then that would be a great way to go out.” he chuckles.

you lightly slap his leg, “stop that.”

he gestures you closer to sit curled into his side, a comforting arm smoothing you up and down. “if you really don’t want to do it that’s okay i don’t want to push you, just want you to feel good s’all.”

you ponder for a minute, “…you would tell me if it’s too much right?”

“i would,” he nods, “but i won’t need to.”

he squeezes your hand in reassurance, and you remember that spencer reid would never lie to you.

which is why you say, “okay.”

his eyes light up like a carnival, “yeah?”

you take a deep breath, “yeah.”

“come here,” cupping your cheek to bring in and kiss you.

it starts off slow, deliberate. like he wants you to know how much he appreciates you placing your trust in his possession, and how gently and carefully he’s going to take care of it.

you hike a leg over his lap to straddle him and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his lips mark you like a road map. he moves down your jaw and uses his nose to nudge your neck away, giving him better access to litter the skin with love bites.

the moans spilling from your mouth spur him on, he starts subconsciously bucking his hips up causing you to grow restless for more.

he senses this and motions for you to lift up on your knees above him so he can slide his body down flat between your legs. the warm palms of his hands rest where your thighs meet the swell of your ass.

you look down at the sight of him laid out for you, and catch his shit eating grin staring back. the dichotomy this position gives you with a sense of power to be over him like this but the vulnerability at feeling so exposed caused a swirl of emotions for you.

“hey,” he squeezes his palms laid on your ass, “if this is a lot, that’s okay.”

“no, no.i think i want this. i’m just scared.” you softly admit.

“nothing to be scared of, angel. it’s not like i haven’t eaten you out before, it’s just a different position,” his hands move closer to your core, “let me make you feel good, please.”

you stare into his eyes once more, being met with nothing but trust and lust for you. with a deep breath, you nod your head.

he smirks again, “alright sweetheart, take a seat.”

you slowly inch your body up his own, hearing him outwardly groan as your cunt came into his line of sight.

“jesus fuck, you have the prettiest pussy.”

you preen at his words once you’ve reached the position, and you hover in hesitation. he wraps his arms under and around your legs and gently pulls you down.

and he attacks you like a man starved. his tongue licking a full stripe up your cunt, letting it swirl around your clit. the feeling is so intense in this position you have to lean forward and brace yourself on the headboard.

with a gasp you whine out his name, “oh my god, fuck.” he continues to use his tongue to barrel you towards your peak, knowing exactly where to touch and lick to rile you up.

he can tell you’re still holding back, feeling the tense muscles in your upper thighs harden under his touch. with a sharp tug he pulls you to be seated fully on his face, and he lets out a deep groan that vibrates through your whole body.

you’re fully at his mercy now, held down by his large hands and his mouth working so hard to make you see stars. the pleasure is overtaking all of your senses, when you look down to meet his eyes they’re staring right back at you, reveling in your ecstasy. a languished moan leaves you as you tangle your hands in his hair and pull.

he laps up your arousal with urgency, tongue moving in such a delicate and intricate way you would think he’s writing a love letter with it.

the coil in your gut starts to tighten and you can feel your peak coming fast, “spence…” you whine.

he hums in response, silently acknowledging what you mean. one more slow lick up and down your slit was all it took to push you overboard. the endorphins rush over you like a tsunami as you try to ride out the wave of your orgasm.

spencer doesn’t stop his motions and continues to work your overly sensitive clit, gripping your legs tighter to him as he prevents you from escaping.

“shit, oh god baby, you need to st—stop.” you brokenly moan out. you tug on his hair hard as you try to release his grip on you, and after a few minutes he takes pity and lets you go.

you let out a big and tired sigh as you flop to the side of him, one leg still draped over him as you’re both panting heavily, attempting to come down from the heat of the moment.

he smoothes out the leg over him with his hand and turns to face you, face plastered with a stupid grin and glistening with you.

“see? that wasn’t so bad.”

you scoff breathlessly, “i think maybe you’re trying to kill me.”

“maybe,” he laughs, “ but you liked it right?”

you nod bashfully, “did you…like it?”

his eyes widen, “are you kidding? you looked so hot it drove me insane. you’re always so beautiful but having you like that…i like making you feel good, it makes me feel really good, and that is a win-win.”

you smile at him and move closer to fit under his arm and into his side, your hand resting on his chest. he tightens his arm around you and whisper, “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you say through hooded eyes. your hand starts trailing lower, “must have been really good for you seeing how painful this looks.” you softly say, gesturing to the aching bulge in his boxers, the dark patch stained by precum.

his breath hitches as you inch closer, “baby, no it’s okay. you don’t have to do th—“ the sentence gets cut off when your hand gives him a tentative squeeze.

“i don’t have to, but i want to. i should thank you somehow for making me feel so good,” your voice dropping an octave in lust, “will you let me show my thanks, honey?”

you stare at him with the sultriest doe eyes he’s ever seen, and he’s thoroughly convinced in that moment that you are, in fact, trying to kill him.

still a great way to go out, he thinks.

[bloodrvvvsh]

Needs Me When He’s All Alone. | Post-Prison!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You and Spencer had broken up long ago — his work kept him too busy for a relationship, is what he told you. Now, several years later, when your paths cross again because you take a job as his boss's assistant, the feelings you both had buried seem to be rekindled.

Pairing: Ex-Boyfriend!Post-prison!Spencer Reid x Fem!Assistant!Reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, babes), p in v sex, rough hate sex, dom!Spencer, sub!brat!Reader, afab + fem!Reader, hints at some sort of rivarly (kinda) between Spencer and Emily, face fucking, spit/drool, spanking, face slapping, very sloppy and messy fingering, hair pulling, hand around the throat (no choking), dacryphilia, lots and lots of biting, back scratching, marking, orgasm denial, praise, degradation, name calling (slut, whore, prick, asshole) + pet names (princess, baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, good girl), creampie

Word count: 4.4K

Notes: Another PWP from me, who’s surprised. Anyways enjoy and stream Starfucker by Slayyyter ✨

It would be a lie to say you hadn’t thought about Spencer Reid since your breakup.

You tried not to think about him, but it was impossible to when you were still so hopelessly hung up on him. It was almost pathetic with the way you were always mentally comparing your dates to him, or spending the day dreaming about him and his big hands and big.. other things.

It was even worse when you considered the way he decided to dump you, too. Some excuse about his work keeping him too busy to maintain a relationship. What kind of a reason is that? It’s not like you ever minded when he was away on long cases, it just made the reunion all the more sweeter in your opinion.

But it wasn’t good enough for Spencer, apparently. You were not good enough Dr. Spencer Reid. 

Or, at least, that's what you told yourself when your mind wandered a little too far a little too late at night. It was the same thought that had been cycling through your mind for the past five years. Why else would he dump you for some lame ass reason after nearly three years of dating?

That was the past, though. You were moving on and moving forward. There were more things in life than an ex-boyfriend who happened to be really great at the time. The world didn’t end five years like you might have thought, the earth continued to turn and you continued to wake up every morning.

Today was a day you actually woke up with a sense of excitement bubbling inside your chest. Today was the first day of your new job. You had always preferred the quiet hustle of office jobs and this job was exactly that. 

While some might be intimidated by the idea of working for the FBI, you really didn’t mind it. It wasn’t like you were going out on the field every day. You were just an assistant, and you were fine with that. Living in DC, it was a little hard to escape all things governmental and the like, so really it was just another Monday for you.

You watched as the numbers on the elevator ticked by as you rose up. Tucked in the crook of your elbow was a manila envelope and a coffee in your hand. Your free hand fell to the hem of your skirt, tugging on it slightly to hopefully provide some more coverage to your body. The skirt was a little short, but you had paired it with some black pantyhoses to - quite literally - cover your ass. You weren’t sure how well it was actually working, though.

The elevator dinged with the arrival of you to your floor. You let a deep breath out through your mouth before you stepped out. Your heels clicked on the floor, hurriedly trying to make your way across the bullpen and to your new boss’s office like requested.

You had crossed the bullpen with seemingly no problem and you were just about to step onto the stairs when a familiar call of your name had your blood running cold.

“Y/N?” A pit settled in your stomach, dark and cold and full of horrible feelings when Spencer’s voice hit your ears. You swallowed. You turned your head slowly, like you were expecting him to disappear before you looked fully behind you.

But no luck. There he was, in all his glory. Although, he looked very different to the last time you had seen him. He seemed to have ditched his old cardigans and sweaters for tailored suits. His hair was longer, messier, and stubble grew across his face. 

Unfortunately for you, he looked even hotter than before.

And even though he looked so different, so unlike the sweet and dorky Spencer you used to date, now looking more like the gruff FBI agent he truly was, there was still a softness to his deep brown eyes that told you this was the same old Spencer Reid you couldn’t get your mind off of.

“Spencer,” you sighed. God, why did he have to be so beautiful still? “What are you doing here?”

“I work here,” he said with a raise of his eyebrow. Mentally you cursed yourself. How could you possibly forget? You were too starstruck to even think properly in that moment. “What are you doing here?”

“I also work here.” You shifted uncomfortably on your feet. You watched his gaze flit up and down your body and suddenly you were too well aware of your outfit choices when he lingered on your thighs. You should have just worn pants, but no, you wanted to look cute for your first day.

For a moment, the two of you could only stare at each other in silence. What could you possibly say after your last interaction being a shitty breakup? And just as you were about to say something, another voice cut in.

“Y/N!” Emily called out cheerfully. A sense of relief washed over you at the sight of her, your whole body relaxing. You nodded your head at her, bending slightly at the knees to give a half-assed bow.

“Emily,” you murmured. You held out the envelope and cup of coffee to her, giving a little smile when she took them into her own hands. 

Emily’s attention turned to Spencer and you were almost certain there was some hint of smugness in her eyes. “I see you’ve met my new assistant,” she said with a hand falling to your back, giving it a soft pat. Spencer’s eyes narrowed.

His fingers curled tighter around the satchel slung across his body and you noticed a flicker of something - anger? jealousy? - in his eyes. “I have met her,” was all he said, his tone suddenly turning very curt. 

You didn’t know what they were doing, what sort of mind games they were playing, and you weren’t sure how to feel about being a pawn caught in between it all. The air was thick, tense, nearly electric. Like they were two live wires waiting for a spark. You could feel the prickle of the hair on the back of your neck standing on end.

You cleared your throat, running your hand down the front of your skirt to rid yourself of your sweaty palms. “I, uh. I’m gonna.. go get some more case files that need to be sorted.” The minute the words left your mouth, you were already making a beeline to simply get out of there.

~

The rest of the day seemed to move by fairly smoothly. No more incidents between Spencer and Emily (to your knowledge) and you didn’t have to see Spencer again. A perfect day in your book.

You were actually almost finished with the day. You only had a few cases to be printed and sorted away, and then you were free to leave. Most had already left for the day, leaving the office vacant and eerily quiet. You didn’t mind it, though. Sometimes that was better, no distractions from finishing up the last few things before you clocked out.

You stood at the coping machine, your back to the door, when you heard it creak open. You didn’t think much of it, it was a busy office, after all, and plenty of people used the copier room. You didn’t even think to look behind you to see who it was. Your mind was one track at this point, just looking to finish your tasks and go home.

You should have known better.

You knew it was too late when you felt a broad chest being pressed to your back. A warm breath fanned over your ear as large hands that you knew too well roamed your sides. It was pure instinct the way your body melted into his touch, a sigh full of wanton desires wafting from your lips.

You felt weak. You were weak. In that moment, you were nothing more than a mammal with the primal need to procreate. 

Your head fell to the side, leaning back to rest on Spencer’s shoulder, baring your neck to him, submitting to him like the weak little thing you both knew you were. God, you were really going to hate yourself when this was all over. You were already starting to feel that bubble of anger and hatred forming in your chest, creeping up your throat and burning like bile in your mouth.

Your hands snapped over his, stilling his movements. His lips hovered over your neck, mere inches from your pulse point. “You are such a prick,” you bit out. You sounded breathless, needy. 

You tugged at his fingers, trying to pry them off your body. You spun in his arms, turning to face him. His pupils were dilated, swallowing his irises whole and making them more akin to black holes than the warm brown eyes you used to love. His hair was a mess, like he had been running his fingers through it too many times, his tie askew. Your eyes narrowed. 

“You must have something wrong with you if you think I’m going to sleep with you after what you put through,” you hissed at him. You pressed yourself against the copier machine, trying to create some semblance of distance between the two of you, and crossed your arms tight over your chest.

“After what I put you through?” Spencer echoed almost incredulously. He had to be playing dumb, because you knew he was the farthest thing from stupid.

You scoffed. “You broke up with me with some lame ass excuse, and then you never bothered to talk to me again!” You could not believe him in that moment. It was like he was purposefully trying to piss you off.

“Y/N-” 

“Do not “Y/N” me,” you spit out like the words were venom in your mouth. “I am not your girlfriend, and just because I now work at the BAU too doesn’t mea-”

Spencer’s lips were crashing against yours before you could even finish your sentence. He always kissed like a man starved, like he was trying to consume you whole. You whimpered against his mouth, hands flying to grasp onto his wrists while his hands cradled your face.

The kiss grew even more passionate, somehow, becoming a mashing of lips and teeth and breathless moans and animalistic growls. You missed this - missed the intense fire Spencer lit in you, the passion that he brought into everything he did.

His hands flew down to the hem of your skirt, quickly hitching it up as you both stumbled around the room, barely breaking your kissing to catch your breaths. He hooked his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up onto a nearby table. You instantly spread your legs, inviting him in without so much another thought. He quickly shed his suit jacket, tossing it aside to some random part of the room.

Then you heard a distinct rip of fabric. You pulled away from Spencer’s addictive lips, pressing your hands on his chest and forcing him to let in some room between the two of you. You glanced down to see a huge tear on your tights and you gasped.

“You ripped my tights?!” you shrieked, landing a smack to his chest.

“Keep it up, and I’ll rip your panties, too,” he growled and you hated that the deep timbre of his voice sent flashes of arousal straight to your core. He didn’t miss the way you clenched your thighs together. He weaved a hand into your hair and curled his fingers around the strands of your hair, giving it a good tug to force you to bear your neck to him once more.

He pressed wet and sloppy kisses to the junctions of your neck, nipping at the neck, making you gasp and squirm. He pushed your panties to the side, not bothering to even pull them halfway. He plunged two fingers in, knowing you could handle it. You gasped even louder when he filled you so suddenly, your back arching into the feeling.

“You’re so wet for me,” Spencer murmured against your sweaty skin. The thrust of his fingers were hard, fast, making your head spin with arousal. You couldn’t remember the last time you had sex, let alone sex this hedonistic, but god, were you loving it. His fingers were so long, hitting all the right places in you without even trying. “You missed me, didn’t you?”

You hated profilers, and you especially hated Spencer Reid. “Screw you,” you hissed. You didn’t even notice when his hand seemed to have fallen to your ass, but you definitely felt the hard smack of it connecting with your flesh.

“What do you think I’m trying to do, princess?” He punctuated his words with another hard swat to your ass and a nip to the neck. You moaned at both sensations, grinding into the fingers deep inside you. “I don’t remember you being such a brat when we dated..”

“I don’t remember you being such an asshole,” you retorted. Another smack, another gasp from you. You glared at him.

Spencer’s fingers picked up pace, moving in and out of you in an almost messy and uncoordinated fashion, his thumb rubbing fast circles on your clit. The sloppy sounds of his fingers thrusting and your moans filled the air, creating a dizzying erotic symphony. 

“You never answered my question,” he breathed out. He moved his lips to your ear, teeth grazing along the shell. “Did you miss me?”

“No,” you lied right through your teeth and you both knew it. He delivered another spank to your ass, making you squeak at how sensitive you apparently becoming with his spankings.

“There’s no need to lie.” He bit down on your earlobe and you keened right as his fingers angled perfectly to hit your G-spot. He pulled back to look you in the eye, smirking at the sight of you unraveling under his fingers. “You missed me, and you missed my dick, like the stupid little slut you are.”

The Spencer you used to know, the man you loved, would have never called you any sort of name, not even bed. Hearing that word tumbling out of his lips had you clenching hard around his fingers and whining loud, eyes squeezing shut as your stomach twisted into knots.

“Admit it, Y/N,” he whispered in a husky voice, “Admit you missed me fucking you.”

“Fuck you.” More smacks to the ass. Three in the row this time, not even giving you time to recover. Each was harder than the less, leaving your skin tingling.

Spencer retracted his fingers from your messy cunt, making you whine at the loss of feeling full for the first time in far too long. “Open,” he commanded and you obeyed, much to your own disgust. His finger plunged into your mouth and you wrapped your lips around them without another word.

You licked them clean, tasting yourself, all the while maintaining eye contact with his intense stare. He pulled his fingers out from your mouth as fast as he did with your cunt. He cupped your cheek in his palm, gently caressing your supple skin. Then he delivered a hard smack to your cheek.

Your head snapped to the right and you gasped, hand automatically flying to your stinging cheek. You couldn’t believe him. And you couldn’t believe yourself for getting even wetter from it all.

Before you could react any further, his hand was tangling back in your hair, pulling harshly to drag you to your knees. He made quick work of his belt and unbuttoned his pants, fishing his hard dick out of its confines. Your mouth watered at the sight. It was so big, so pretty with its pale pink head and veins trailing along the sides.

Spencer chuckled at the hungry look in your eyes. “You missed this, didn’t you, baby?” he cooed at you. You found yourself nodding your head. He wrapped a hand around his cock, giving it a few lazy tugs. His thumb swiped at the tip, smearing the pre-cum gathering with a soft hiss.

He hovered it over your lips, teasing you. And in that moment, you weren’t above whining, which is exactly what you did. “Poor baby missed choking on my big dick, didn’t she?” Fake sympathy dripped from his words, making you feel oh-so dizzy and small. You nodded your head again, more frantically and desperate this time.

“Go ahead,” he urged, reaching a hand to the back of your head and pushing you forward, “Suck it, pretty girl.” 

You didn’t need to be told twice. You braced your palms on his thighs as you stuck your tongue out, flickering it over the tip of Spencer’s cock. His fingers carded through your hair and you nearly melted.

You licked a broad stride along the underside of his dick and you shivered at the groan you earned in response. You took the tip into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around him as you made your way down his cock.

“Fuck,” Spencer breathed out. His eyes fluttered shut, hips involuntarily rocking into your throat. He’d never admit it himself, but nothing could compare to your sweet mouth. He had spent more than a few countless nights dreaming about it wrapped around him once more.

You took his little curse and movements as encouragement, swallowing even more of him. You could never quite fit the entirety of him in your mouth, but it never stopped you from trying. 

Spencer took a fistful of your locks in his hand, tugging hard at the strands, and you winced at the pain radiating from your scalp. Lust flared down your spine, electrifying your body as he forced his cock all the way in your mouth. You choked around the intruding object in your throat, contracting around him and making him moan.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he crooned. His other hand cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek as your eyes watered. He brushed away a tear that spilled down with a grin full of sadistic glee. “You look so pretty like this.. Your mouth has better uses than being a brat, don’t you think, pretty girl?”

He pulled you off his cock, leaving you to gag and heave heavy breaths. He clicked his tongue, faux pouting down at you. “Can’t handle it?” He didn’t give you any time to respond before he was pulling back down on his dick, pushing your head down until his pubes tickled your nose. “That’s too fucking bad.”

He repeated his motions, thrusting into your mouth violently until you got that dazed look in your eyes. Drool spilled from the corners of your lips and all over his cock. Praises from his lips, creating a chorus between his groans and moans of pure pleasure.

When you felt like you were seriously going to lose your mind from lack of oxygen, Spencer pulled out finally. You panted, dizzy and delirious, but so fucking horny. You whimpered when he guided you away from his dick, your bottom lip sticking out in a genuine pout.

He spun you around before you bending over the same table from earlier. You gasped, a sense of excitement bubbling in your stomach when you realized what was to come. His hands fell to your hips and you pushed your ass back against him, wiggling it with a pitiful whine. You glanced back at him over your shoulder and you were sure that you looked like some sort of pathetic slut, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care.

“Someone’s eager,” Spencer remarked with a chuckle. But he was just as ready to screw your brains out. 

He guided his cock to your soaking wet folds, taking a moment to smear your wetness around with his tip, up until you started whining again. He chuckled once more before finally entering you. 

Your jaw fell slack as his cock entered you, stretching you to your limits. He was so fucking big, stretching you so deliciously and filling you up in a ways that couldn’t possibly be replicated.  

“There you go,” Spencer murmured. He leaned forward, pressing his chest to your back firmly. “That’s what you’ve been craving, haven’t you, princess? Just needed some dick to turn your pretty little brain off.”

His hand snaked around to wrap his fingers around your throat. Not squeezing, rather just resting there, reminding you of your place, of his power over you. He continued to push until he bottomed out inside you and you both keened. How could you have ever broken up when you fit together so perfectly?

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, baby,” he hissed right into your ear. “Your pretty pussy definitely missed me, didn’t it?” His other hand landed on your ass once more and he delivered a hard smack on the available skin. “Squeezing me so good, sweetheart, such a good fuckin’ girl..”

He pulled back slightly, roughly halfway, before slamming into you hard enough to make the table slam against the wall. Then he repeated himself, one rough thrust after the other. You felt so braindead in that moment, gone in your own head with pleasure, that you could moan and babble.

“Feels so good, Spence,” you whined, trying to grind your hips back against him. “Fuck, it’s so good, so good, please don’t stop, please, please-” You cut yourself with a heady moan when he slammed into you with force.

“Cockdrunk whore,” Spencer hissed into your ear and you could only nod. His hand moved from your ass to tracing your labia before finding his target - your throbbing and neglected clit. He rubbed hard and fast circles around the swollen nub and you nearly sobbed.

His lips drifted to your neck and began peppering every inch of your skin in kisses. Some light, some sloppy and messy, nearly bruising with the force of them. Your head fell forward, hair falling all over your face and sticking to your sweaty skin. Tears brimmed in your eyes, threatening to spill down your flushed cheeks.

Then came Spencer’s teeth, grazing along your neck before biting down, hard. You squeaked, hands curling around the edge of the table until your knuckles turned white. Your cunt clenched, sucking him in even deeper. His groan rumbled deep in your chest.

“Taking me so fucking good, baby, such a good girl for me,” he mumbled against your skin. He picked up his thrusts, hips slamming hard against yours. The circles on your clit increased in their pace, as well, the coil in your stomach burning hot and heavy.

“Spencer,” you nearly shrieked. “Spencer, I’m gonna- Shit! I’m gonna cum, Spencer!”

“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” His words were nearly a growl, deep and low and so fucking sexy. “You gonna cum?” He landed a harsh slap against your pussy and you almost screamed once more.

Spencer pulled out suddenly, leaving just as empty as you were earlier. Your eyes shot wide open, whines tumbling from your lips, distraught at being denied your precious orgasm. He was spinning around you once more, crashing your lips together.

You moaned into the kiss, arms hurried wrapping around his broad shoulders. His hands fell to your thighs, lifting you up and into his arms, making you squeak. When did he get so.. strong?

You didn’t have much time to ponder over Spencer’s sudden display of strength because your back was practically tossed against a nearby wall. He pulled apart from the kiss to take his cock into his hand again, guiding it towards your dripping cunt again.

Your nails dug into his back as he stretched you open on his cock again, head falling back and hitting the wall. His lips were attached to your lips again, suckling and biting to leave behind millions of different marks.

“So big,” you slurred. Your voice sounded almost foreign to yourself - high-pitched and whiny. “Filling me so good, Spence, it’s so good.” Tears had begun to cascade down your face, streaking your mascara and leaving thick tracks of black on your cheeks. Spencer had never seen you look more beautiful than in that moment.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N,” he praised between heavy pants. “Taking me so good, so good, like the stupid fucking slut you are.” His hand made contact with your face again, leaving a red mark in its wake and leaving your skin feeling electric. Your walls squeezed around him.

“You like that, huh?” he did again and you moaned loudly, unashamed now. “You like being smacked around, huh? Like being treated like the filthy lil’ whore you are? Is that right, princess?” He repeated himself, smacking you once, twice, three times and each you clenched around him.

Your orgasmed barreled over you before you could have possibly processed it. Your eyes squeezed shut, stars popping in your vision, legs shaking. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as pleasure washed over you in waves near akin to a tsunami in your body.

Spencer fell right over the edge right after you, teeth sinking down into your shoulder with a heavy groan. Sprouts of hot cum flooded your insides and you whined at the feeling of overstimulation washing over you.

You both stilled for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm, panting heavily together. Slowly, Spencer pulled out his softening cock out of you, and you whined for the final time at being so empty. Your cunt clenched around nothing for a few seconds before beginning to seep Spencer’s seed, dripping down your thigh and onto the carpet.

You felt a bit bad for the janitor who would have to clean up your messes.

Spencer grasped your chin between his forefinger and thumb, turning your head to look back at him. His lips met yours in another kiss, this time much softer and full of something you might describe as affection. 

When you pulled apart, he smiled at you. “So good for me.” He was breathless, and you couldn’t blame him.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you again. Spencer cleared his throat before adding, “Did you, uh.. want a ride back to my place? I still have some of your clothes at my apartment, you could shower and change..” he trailed off, teeth catching his bottom lip. There was a hint of a pleading look in his eyes and your heart clenched at the sight. You could never say no to his puppy eyes.

“Only if you take me out to dinner after.”

“Deal.”

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Is That A Promise? (Venom One-Shot)

Eddie Brock x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Telling you about Venom does not go entirely how Eddie planned.

CW: mentions of monster fucking, Eddie is oblivious and a dumbass (I think I have a type)

Venom Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

You’d known Eddie Brock a good while by this point. You’d started dating him a while back, and while he put others on edge, you’d found the way he talked to himself out loud rather charming, actually. 

At first, you weren’t sure if he was just unmedicated, or undiagnosed. But then the news broke about the symbiote, and then there was the footage. And when Eddie started coming home right after news broke of some other attack or taking out of a bad guy or criminal or whoever, you’d put two and two together. 

It was kind of hard not to. Particularly as his conversations with himself could vary from topic to topic in the span of six words or less.

 

Eddie had asked to meet up for lunch today at your favourite restaurant. He’d seemed a bit off on the phone, and given how prone you were to anxiety, your immediate thought had been that he was breaking up with you and that you’d done something to upset him or his bodily guest- who you did not officially know about, of course. 

You’d gotten there early to prepare yourself for whatever shitshow was about to follow and to your immense surprise, Eddie had shown up pretty much right after you. Eddie was always running late, so this change in pace was also mildly concerning. You were not sure how this was going to go and you did not like that one bit. 

“You’re here early, too,” Eddie had said, swallowing thickly and avoiding eye contact. You nodded, and cleared your throat, gesturing for him to sit down at the table opposite you. 

“Yeah, I wanted to make sure we had a spot,” you replied, smoothing down your shirt. Bit of a nervous habit. That and ripping at your nails, but that was beside the point. 

“Right,” Eddie replied. 

And then the two of you lapsed into silence. You spent a good five to ten minutes appearing to read over the menu as if this wasn’t a regular spot for you and you didn’t know exactly what you were going to order. In fact, you’d be surprised if the cooks weren’t already making it up for you even though a waiter hadn’t come over yet. 

“Shut up,” Eddie hissed quietly. You peered over the menu to eye him curiously, one brow arced in question. 

“I didn’t say anything, Eddie.” 

“Yeah, I know. I- uh, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. You hummed, and put the menu down to give him your attention. 

“About me shutting up?” 

“No- God, this is not going at all like I planned.” Eddie rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. 

You said nothing, waiting patiently for him to work out his wording.

 

“I really like you,” he started, and you nodded, replying with the same sentiment. “And, well, there’s something I’ve been hiding from you.”

 

“Right…” This is where you expected him to tell you he was married (doubtful but not impossible) or had cancer or something terrible. Dear God, please no. 

“Look- you’ve seen on the news, yes, the, uh- the attacks. Yeah?” 

You nod. Ah, so he was finally telling you about his friend living literally rent-free in his body. Okay, you could relax a little. 

“He’s me. Venom, he lives in my body. He’s in my head. Like, all the time. Right now.” 

Eddie looked at the table where he was picking at the tablecloth. You were silent for a second, and Eddie clearly took that to mean you were horrified or disgusted or something. You were a little nervous about it, sure, but you’d also been living with him for the last few months. If Venom was planning to take you out, he would have done so by now, surely. You figured this to mean you were safe enough. You’d also seen your fair share of monster porn, so you weren’t exactly unkeen on the idea of dating someone who sometimes had a monster body. It was kind of hot, actually. You shook the thought out of your head and tried to focus.

“Oh, yeah- I knew about that,” you replied, and the way Eddie’s head snapped towards you was almost comical. 

“You what?”

 

“Yeah, I figured that out a while ago. I was just waiting for you to tell me in your own time.”

 

Eddie blinked, and a black residue appeared on the back of his hand. It swirled and gathered on his hand before reaching for you delicately. You met it, brushing your finger over it softly. The goop (for lack of a better word) seemed to shiver pleasurably and you smiled.

 

“Can I meet him later?” 

Eddie nodded, watching the interaction with disbelief. He’d thought that you’d go running and screaming through the doors or something, not be rubbing your fingers over Venom like you were fingering some Play-Doh. 

“Y-yeah, later,” he agreed. “Not here. When we get home.”

 

You grinned and the black substance retreated back into Eddie’s skin as a waiter appeared by your table. 

“What can I get for you? The regular?” 

You looked at Eddie and clicked your tongue thoughtfully. 

“The usual with a serving of chicken nuggets on the side, please.”

 

The waiter nodded, scribbled it own on his pad and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen. Eddie looked at you in question. He knew you weren’t big on nuggets. 

“They’re for Venom,” you explained, propping your head up on your palm. Eddie looked to the side as if listening to something carefully. 

“Venom says thank you-” Eddie said before cutting himself as Venom said something else in his head. “No, I’m not saying that. No. No.” 

“Say what?”

Eddie sighed defeatedly- something you think he did a lot when it came to Venom. 

“Venom said he could kiss you right now.” Eddie looked mortified as the words left his mouth. You burst into laughter. 

“Is that a threat or a promise? I hope it’s a promise,” you replied, wiggling your eyebrows at the two of them. 

Eddie swallowed thickly and blushed as Venom said something else. You’d have to see if Venom could swap hosts sometime. It would be nice to have a conversation while out and about like that. 

“Promise,” Eddie replied. 

Good.

[stunie]

“DIDN’T MEAN TO HURT YOU, I SWEAR!”

WIND BREAKER BOYS + ACCIDENTALLY HURTING YOU. ft. hayato suo, kaji ren, nirei akihiko, sakura haruka, togame jo, & umemiya hajime x f!reader.

filled request: “Hi there i want to request something, asking Sakura, Ume, Nirei, Kaji and Suo to play fight and they accidentally hit you hard (If it's to many you can just do Suo and Kaji, no pressureeee)”

sfw. 3.2K wc. a/n: added togame! & tried to make suo & kaji’s xtra long since those 2 look like they might be ur faves <33

HAYATO SUO.

in the time you’ve spent dating suo, you have never once managed to successfully sneak up on him. not even remotely close. it’s impossible to the point that you’ve started to consider the fact that your boyfriend may have developed a sort of sixth sense since meeting you, an intuitive awareness of your presence— because as soon as you step within a three foot radius of him, his head is swiftly turning to face you, greeting you with an amused smile and a “this again?” with that tone that has your eyebrow twitching all over again.

you continue to fiddle with the bottom of your shirt from where you’re hidden behind your apartment door, anxiously awaiting for the moment suo emerges from outside. your plan was nothing short of perfect, every little detail thought out— and you were entirely sure of it this time.

you had given suo a copy of your key ages ago, so that he could come in at anytime without you needing to be there. a second check of your phone’s messages has you mentally preparing yourself when you reread his “i’m coming~” text from exactly twenty minutes ago, and you smile to yourself. asking him to come by and babysit your cat while you went on a quick snack restock errand was the best excuse, and a part of you feels a little guilty for formulating such an intricate plan just to get a scare out of your boyfriend— but it had to be done.

the sound of suo’s key wiggles inside the doorknob, your breath hitching in your throat when you hear the lock switch just a few seconds after, followed by the eerie creaking noise that your door always seems to make.

“i’m here,” suo sings out to no one in particular, his usual smile etched onto his face as he takes a peek inside. dark, and empty. nothing unusual, not that he was expecting anything out of the ordinary in the first place.

as soon as he takes a step inside, he’s going to take off his shoes first, and you jump on the opportunity. you’re quick to lunge at him the second his thumb slips in his shoe, aiming to launch yourself into his middle and crush him in a suffocating hug. you don’t miss the way he tenses for a split second, eyes widening at the sudden movement— mind immediately flashing to his first thought…. an intruder?

he doesn’t recognize you at first, your figure reduced to a blur— and all he knows is that something is headed towards him. and fast. he’s moving on pure instinct, arm reaching for the closest thing to him at that moment: your arm.

you gasp when you realize just how agile your boyfriend really is. the truth is— you’ve never seen him fight, and he doesn’t really talk to you about it. he has a habit of leaving all the details out, and you don’t usually find yourself asking him about it after seeing the way he’s always coming out of fights unscathed. so sure. you knew he was probably pretty strong.

but you had no idea he was like this.

“w-wait!” you yelp when his foot comes to loop around your ankle, and you’re suddenly falling backwards. your hand desperately moves to catch onto something— anything to avoid falling onto the floor, so you grab a fistful of suo’s shirt.

he’s clenching his jaw in shock when you roughly yank him down with you, the familiar sound of your voice registering a second too late, because the two of you are crashing onto the ground a second later, suo’s weight knocking the wind out of your chest.

there’s a moment of silence as the two of you wince, your eyes fluttering open to meet with suo, looming over you with an expression you’ve never seen on him before. genuine concern … and what looks to be .. shock?

it takes you another moment to take note of the subtle warmth you’re feeling until you finally recognize it as suo’s hand that’s currently cradling the back of your head— and you’re at a loss as to exactly when or how he managed to do that in only a split second.

“i’m sorry,” suo chuckles sheepishly, “you got me this time. i really thought you were an intruder.”

“but did you hit your head? hard? are you okay?” he continues, other arm coming to pull you up and hold you against his chest. “tell me.”

“i think so,” you’re barely able to mumble, heat rushing to your cheeks at the realization that suo’s first thought wasn’t to cushion his own fall, but to protect your head instead. “not that hard though… i think. it doesn’t hurt very much.”

suo’s gaze on you is suddenly much more noticeable, and you’re tearing your eyes away from him a second later, sneaking glances back and forth as he continues to search for any signs of pain.

none that he notices, and the way your lips are pressed in a nervous line is a good sign, at least. suo lets out a relieved sigh before he’s smiling again, as if you hadn’t just spooked the sealed spirits out of him.

“let’s not do that again, okay?”

KAJI REN.

you’ve never seen the night market this packed in your entire life.

it’s so busy that it’s almost suffocating, each breath taking double the effort from the way your body is being smothered between people as kaji leads you towards the food stands.

‘the best fried octopus you’ll ever try,’ your friend had said…but you’re seriously reevaluating you and kaji’s decision to come here— on the busiest night all summer to top it off.

it definitely wasn’t the best idea the two of you have come up with.

you’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve said the words “excuse me!” and “sorry, getting through!” tonight. a part of you feels bad for your boyfriend— because you knew kaji was way worse off than you, the scowl on his face running the risk of being permanently etched onto his face from the sheer intensity of his glare. the grip he has on your wrist is tighter than ever before, trying his best to weave his way through the crowd without losing you.

kaji knows his mood is worsening each time someone bumps into him, and twice— or even three times as much when he feels someone bumping into you instead. he can feel the way your body roughly jerks back from the impact, and it was stressing him out more than he could imagine. the possibility of losing you and leaving you all alone in an aggressive crowd like this was the last thing he wanted.

he’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t hear you call out his name the first time, or the second time. not even the third time. he doesn’t hear your voice trail off a bit when you mention that his grip is starting to hurt a little— to maybe hold hands instead.

he didn’t hear any of it.

kaji catches a glimpse of an emptier area, and he’s suddenly pulling harder at your wrist to lead you to it, not hearing you squeak out an “ouch, that hurts!”

and it hurts badly, warm tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to try and keep up with him. it’s only when he suddenly jerks you around a corner that you’re tripping over the curb, stumbling and crashing into his back with a loud ‘ouch!’ that he finally turns to take a look at you.

kaji’s eyes are widening at the sight— your teary eyes peering up at him through wet lashes and your hand gingerly rubbing at your wrist. his words catch in his throat, barely able to sputter out an “are you.. okay?”

you shake your head quickly, lips tugging to a shaky frown. “you were hurting my wrist, kaji.”

his chest feels tight.

kaji is quick to bring your hand in his, gently cupping your hand as he looks at your wrist, and the guilt is flooding through him all at once. the thought of hurting you has him grimacing, feeling physically ill just thinking about it, and it’s not long before his mind is racing through all the scenarios.

he didn’t want to hurt you— and he doesn’t want to be someone you saw as ‘dangerous’ either. your wrist was so delicate, and it was a terrifying reminder of his strength— because he didn’t even realize that he was squeezing in the first place.

he truly had no idea.

“it’s okay,” your voice slices through the thick air, ripping him out of his thoughts, “i know you were stressed— it was scary over there.”

“i was scared too, kaji.”

the gentle smile you give him is the only thing that can bring him this much comfort, he thinks. it’s enough to clear his head, his heartbeat settling down, and he’s ripping another lollipop open before popping it in his mouth, turning and kneeling onto the floor.

“you can get on.”

even without his words, it’s a gesture you’re very familiar with— so you don’t hesitate for a second before climbing onto his back, arms circling around kaji as he lifts you up. there’s a subtle pink dusting the tips of his ears when you press a gentle kiss to his head, thanking him for carrying you.

“it’s not a problem,” he grumbles, voice coming out low as a futile attempt to hide the excited thump of his heart.

“get comfy up there, because we’re not leaving this damn market until we get a hold of that octopus.”

NIREI AKIHIKO.

nirei swears that he had no idea that the pillow he had just thrown towards you a moment ago had buttons decorating the outside.

he really didn’t know, and of course it was the only pillow that happened to land right on your face.

“i’m so sorry! are you okay?” his voice comes out frantic as he rushes towards you, terrified eyes watching the way you rub your eye and groan in pain. this was terrible, he was terrible. pillows were never supposed to cause you any pain.

“it…it hit your eye? i’m so sorry,” he repeats, hands coming up to do something— wave around you in panic, because he’s not quite sure if he should touch you or leave you be. his hands hover just in front of your face, mind racing with potential ways he could help.

he jolts when you laugh a bit.

“you really picked the worst pillow,” your laugh comes out strained as you try and blink, vision spotted with dots from the hit you’ve taken. “…it’s okay though.”

it takes you a couple more seconds to see nirei clearly, and you can tell that he’s absolutely devastated with just one glance, nervous hands finally coming to grab at your shoulders, keeping you still so he can inspect your eye.

“let me see.”

he’s leaning in a bit, until his face is just a couple inches in front of yours. “i think um,” he squints a bit, ignoring the warmth rising to his cheeks from the proximity, “i think your eye looks fine.”

the guilt is still eating him alive. a part of him wishes that you had been the one to grab that pillow instead, because he’s certain he would have jumped on the opportunity to tank a hit from a buttoned pillow a thousand times before letting it hit you just once. straight in the eye. anywhere. it doesn’t matter to him.

“it probably is,” you give him a small smile, “but you still cheated. i won that fight.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

“i-i didn’t know you were there!”

sakura’s a complete and utter mess, and he genuinely didn’t know any better. he didn’t hear you creeping up behind him, so when your arms suddenly wrapped around his middle, his reflex was to jab his elbow straight behind him— and it hit you square in the face.

he could feel his heart shatter into pieces when the sound of your yelp rang in his ears, jerking his body around only to see you stagger backwards, clutching your nose and peering up at him through those teary eyes.

sakura doesn’t know what to do. you’re sniffling now, your arms reaching out to hug him a second time, your voice barely coherent as you start babbling with a shaky voice, the only words he could recognize being “i deserve a hug for that.”

he’s a complete mess. he’s stiff when he lets you wrap your arms around his middle this time, face flushed with red at the simple touch and his heart hurting at the sound of you sniffling against his jacket, hand coming to wipe at the tears welling up in your eyes.

it’s impossible for him to not think of the worst— because he knows other guys wouldn’t be making this kind of mistake. his friends wouldn’t have elbowed you in the face in the first place. or at the very least, his friends would know how to comfort someone in this type of situation. he wants to kick himself for just standing there, words catching in his throat every time he tries and apologize.

“sorry…” your voice is quiet, but it’s enough to yank him out his thoughts. “i shouldn’t have scared you like that.”

it takes sakura a couple seconds before his mouth is falling at the apology. “huh?” he’s dumbfounded, hands coming to grab at your shoulders, “i should be apologizing!”

his face erupts in a furious blush when you giggle at his reaction, thumb coming to swipe at the tears that have spilled onto your cheeks. it’s only then when he tugs you back into a tight hug, hand cradling the back of your head to hold you flush against him.

he thinks it’s because he can’t stand to see you cry.

“o-oh?” you whisper against his chest. “this is new.”

sakura chooses to ignore your little remark, clenching his jaw as he glares at your wall, gaze locking on anything except you. “i should be sorry,” he repeats again, his voice barely coherent with the way he’s fighting against his blush, “so you should just … you know. tell me. when you want a hug..”

TOGAME JO. (pet name: doll)

“that’s not right, doll,” togame coos from below you, lips tugging into an amused grin as he watches you struggle to master the self-defense moves that you asked him to teach you an hour ago. or maybe two. it’s normal for him to lose track of time when he’s with you anyway.

your boyfriend doesn’t seem to realize that you don’t have the same stamina he does. or the focus, because you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks again— unsure if it’s because you’re embarrassed of your confused attempts at grabbing him, or if it’s the fact that he’s so casually sprawled out underneath you.

“you listenin’?”

you perk up, followed by a delayed nod. a little too obvious, but he doesn’t say anything.

“you grab me here,” his voice is gentle, guiding your hands back to hover over his body, “and then you pull. remember?”

and you nod again. but the sound of his voice, slow and steady, paired with the way he’s lazily propped up on his elbows to look up at you through tired eyes has your mind spinning all over again, instructions already going out your other ear as you try again and take a large fistful of his sweatshirt.

“..like this?”

he hums, lips tugging into a smile. “that’s good, doll. now pull the way i showed you.”

and you do— or you try to. you tug with all your strength, but you can tell he hasn’t moved an inch. you can hear him hum in wonder above you, and that’s all it takes for your eyes to slam shut as you jerk and pull with all your strength— and you feel some movement for the first time tonight.

“wait…” togame interrupts, but you don’t stop, pulling and pulling— not realizing you’ve inched towards to very edge of your mattress. “wait— we’ll fall,” he repeats with a little more urgency.

it’s a second too late when you realize it, eyes shooting open the second gravity tips the balance, and you’re plummeting backwards with a shriek. togame’s twisting his body to catch you as fast as he can, but the frantic movement has his fist connecting with your cheek before he grabs a hold of you, yanking you upwards and into him.

“fuck,” you wince, rubbing your cheek with the back of your hand as you huff. “that hurt a bit..”

“sorry,” togame lulls, legs spread to have you seated right in front of him, “i was trying to catch you… didn’t mean to smack you like that. are you okay..?”

his hands come to cup your cheeks, tilting your head up to look at the him. the familiar heat in your cheeks returns as soon as you lock eyes with him, because he’s so close. you can feel his breath fan against your lips with the proximity.

and he’s looking right at you.

“‘m okay,” your voice is just above a whisper, “you barely even grazed me, anyway..”

UMEMIYA HAJIME.

“when did you take that?!”

your arms shoot up to reach for ume’s phone, cheeks burning with embarrassment— because that had to be the most foul photo you’ve ever seen of yourself. the sound of your boyfriend erupting into the loudest laugh you’ve heard all day only has you seething— and he’s effortlessly holding his phone just out of your reach, as if to taunt you even further.

“you don’t need to know,” he grins widely, watching the way you shift your weight onto your toes in a futile attempt to reach his phone. “and it’s cute! you don’t think so?”

“give it!” you hiss, and you lunge forward to start pulling at the arm that has the phone, “i’m deleting it!”

“no way,” he retorts with a huff, but you’re pulling his sleeve with your full strength, and it catches ume off guard a bit, foot stumbling forward a step. he’s never seen you pull with all your might— so he just wasn’t expecting it.

you’re lunging again before he’s regained his balance, and he shifts his weight backwards, lower back colliding with the table behind him. his phone slips from his grip too fast for either of you to react, and it lands on your nose with a sickening thud.

his laughter vanishes as soon as you’re letting out a pained yelp, hands coming to clutch your nose, squeezing the bridge to ease the pain.

“ow….” you whimper, voice cracking a bit as tears start to flood your lash line. his heart breaks in two when he sees you sniffle, desperately blinking away the tears that threaten to spill as you check your hand.

no blood. just a lot of pain.

“i’m so sorry,” he’s hovering over you within a second, nervous arms fluttering just above your frame— because he hasn’t quite figured out what to do, and you look so fragile like this. he just doesn’t want to break you.

“..are you okay?” he breaks the silence, “let me see you.”

your face is buried in your hands when ume kneels in front of you, hands coming to gently tug at your wrists so you can look at him. “i’m sorry,” he repeats even quieter, worry flooding his expression when you tear your gaze away from him.

it’s your attempt at trying to get rid of the tears threatening to spill, but he doesn’t know know that. his lips are tugging into a deep frown, eyes filled with worry as he tries to get you to just look at him again.

“look at me, okay?” he whispers, “let me see.”

a deep inhale, and you’re trying to make your voice come out steady again. “i think..i think it’s okay.”

your eyebrows furrow. “you klutz…”

the relief in his face is almost too obvious. he’s taking a sharp inhale, opening his arms to urge you to come for a hug. “i know,” he chuckles, “are you sure? you’re okay?”

you give ume a nod, ignoring the throbbing in your nose as your arms wrap around him, holding him close against you. “i think i’ll be okay if you delete that.”

“no way,” he retorts, relieved that you're at least not crying anymore. "but i'll give you cuddles. deal?"

he's pulling you tighter against him before you even give him your answer, and his shoulders relax a bit when you finally nestle into his arms, leaning into his hold with a soft smile and a throbbing nose.

[flwrstqr]

𓈒 ENHYPEN WHEN THEY WANT YOUR ATTENTION ˒

── ୨୧ enha x f!reader 𝗀enre. fluff, imagines, ot7 works 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽 counts . . . 1493 𝔀arning not proofread, kisses, petnames┊DANi NOTEZ ‎⸝⸝⸝ hai. i haven't posted yesterday so here's me making up for it◞[ continue on to . . . library , request ]

! feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! PLS REBLOG ♡

HEESEUNG (이희승)

heeseung walked over to where you were seated, a playful glint in his eyes as he sat down beside you. without a word, he gently intertwined his fingers with yours. as you continued reading or working, he leaned in closer, trying to catch your gaze.

"hey," he murmured softly, his voice a mixture of playfulness and longing.

you glanced up briefly but quickly returned to your task, causing a mischievous grin to spread across heeseung's face. he knew exactly how to get your attention. leaning in, he placed a series of soft kisses on your neck and cheek.

"am I not getting enough attention?" he teased, his lips brushing against your skin. "or do I need to try harder?"

you finally looked up, unable to resist his charm any longer. heeseung's eyes met yours.

"you're impossible," you whisper, reaching up to cup his cheek.

"only for you," he replied with a grin, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

rest of the members below !!

JAY (박종성)

jay sauntered into the room with a playful grin, his eyes scanning until they found you. "angel," he called out, his voice carrying a hint of mischief as he tried to catch your attention.

but you seemed absorbed in whatever you were doing, not immediately responding to his playful greeting. jay moved closer, his hand gently cupping your chin and tilting it upwards so your eyes met his.

"princess," he said softly, his tone affectionate yet teasing, "I called you."

you finally looked up, meeting his gaze. jay's smile widened, satisfied that he had successfully redirected your focus to him.

"what do you need, baby?" you asked, unable to suppress a smile.

"just you and your attention," he replied with a wink, leaning in to press a quick kiss on your forehead.

JAKE (심재윤)

jake leaned over towards you, his voice gentle yet slightly needy, "baby..."

you were deeply engrossed in a book, oblivious to his attempts to draw your attention. jake's expression shifted into a pout as he realized you weren't responding. he couldn't help but feel a bit ignored.

he sighed softly, casting a glance in your direction. finally, after a few moments of pouting, you sensed his presence beside you and turned to him.

"baby, what's wrong?" you asked tenderly, turning to face him with a loving smile.

jake's pout softened into a sheepish grin as you leaned in and kissed his pouty lips gently. he couldn't help but chuckle softly, his arms wrapping around you.

"i thought you were ignoring me," he admitted playfully, his voice tinged with relief now that he had your attention.

"I would never ignore you," you reassured him, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. "i just got caught up reading. i'm sorry, love."

"it's okay," jake replied softly, pressing another quick kiss to your lips. "just missed you, that's all."

SUNGHOON (박성훈)

sunghoon stood hesitantly by the doorway, his fingers nervously tapping against his thigh as he debated whether to disturb you or not. he watched you engrossed in your work, unsure if now was the right moment to approach.

his mind raced with thoughts, contemplating if he should just turn around and leave you to your tasks. but before he could decide, you sensed his presence and looked up, noticing him standing there with a slightly blank expression on his face.

"hoon, what are you doing?" you asked.

sunghoon's cheeks flushed slightly as he realized he had been caught in his moment of hesitation. he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, a bashful smile tugging at his lips.

"i.. uh... i just wanted to be with you," he admitted softly, his eyes meeting yours.

you couldn't help but smile warmly at his sincerity. "come here then," you said, patting the space beside you.

SUNOO (김선우)

sunoo walked up to where you were seated and settled down beside you, a bright smile on his face. "Y/N!" he called out cheerfully, trying to catch your attention.

you were focused on something else, not immediately responding to his call. sunoo's smile turned mischievous as he leaned in closer, his voice becoming increasingly playful.

"sweetheart? darling? baby? angel?" he called out, each pet name accompanied by a grin, hoping one of them would make you look up.

you finally glanced up, unable to suppress a laugh at the petnames.

"what's all this about, baby?" you asked, amused by his antics.

sunoo's grin widened into a delighted smile as he leaned back comfortably. "I just wanted to see that beautiful smile of yours," he replied sweetly, reaching over to gently squeeze your hand.

JUNGWON (양정원)

jungwon entered the room quietly, a small smile playing on his lips as he approached you. without saying a word, he sat down next to you and gently took your hand in his. his touch was warm and comforting, and he began leaving soft, ticklish kisses on your palm, the back of your hand, and up your wrist.

you were focused on something else initially, not immediately noticing his gestures. jungwon continued to plant these gentle kisses, his lips brushing lightly against your skin, each kiss a sweet attempt to capture your attention.

finally, feeling the delicate sensation of his kisses, you looked up, meeting jungwon's eyes. Hh grinned softly, his cheeks tinted slightly pink from the sweet embarrassment of his display.

"what are you doing, won?" you asked with a smile, feeling the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin.

"i just wanted to make sure you knew i was here," he replied softly, his gaze filled with fondness as he squeezed your hand gently.

you laugh softly at his sweet gesture, leaning closer to him. "I know now," you assured him, leaning in to press a soft kiss on his cheek in return.

RIKI (西村力)

riki entered the room softly muttering your name, hoping to catch your attention. he settled down beside you, leaning in. his arm draped gently around your shoulders, drawing you closer as he planted a soft, lingering kiss on your cheek.

you were deeply engrossed in something, and riki's initial attempts went unnoticed. he let out a soft sigh, his lips forming a slight pout as he gazed at you with longing.

"princess," he murmured, his voice a blend of affection and a touch of pleading, "please look at me."

his words finally broke your concentration, and you turned towards him, noticing the adorable pout on his lips.

"sorry, riki," you said with a gentle smile, reaching out to cup his cheek. "i didn't mean to ignore you."

riki's pout softened into a smile as he leaned into your touch, his eyes meeting yours with gratitude. "i just wanted your attention," he admitted softly, his voice filled with sincerity.