#it feels like set up for more is what it feels like

[whosashan]

Hugs Are Mandatory

PAIRING: clingy!lads men x gn!non-mc!reader

SYNOPSIS: Lately, your boyfriend had become impossibly dramatic—and hopelessly clingy. What's the reason for that?

A/N: I feel like my writing has really downgraded lately, so I felt like writing whatever I had in mind instead of doing a request ;p

Xavier

It wasn’t unusual for Xavier to cling to you, especially when he was sleepy—his heavy eyelids fluttering, the warmth of your scent lulling him into drowsiness as he melted into your embrace.

But lately? He had reached a whole new level of attachment. It was as if you were the very air he breathed, as though spending even a moment apart would drain him of life itself.

You were in the kitchen, making hot chocolate for your video game night, and yet—even now—he was right behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. The soft tickle of his breath against your skin sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Xavi…” You chuckled, the amusement in your tone obvious. “You could just wait on the couch, you know.”

“I’d much rather wait for you here,” he murmured, his voice honeyed and low, punctuated by a lingering kiss against your neck.

You exhaled, shaking your head in mock exasperation before turning to face him. His big, pleading eyes locked onto yours, his lower lip jutted out in a dramatic pout. And despite the sheer closeness between you, he still looked like he wanted more.

“What’s up with you and this sudden clinginess?” you asked, raising a curious brow, though your voice was tinged with amusement.

For a moment, he simply hummed, rubbing his cheek against yours like an oversized cat. You frowned. Now that you thought about it, Xavier did have some very cat-like tendencies.

But then… the silence stretched. Suspiciously so.

“Xavier.” Your tone sharpened slightly, prompting him to finally meet your gaze. That’s when you saw it—guilt. Clear as day. He looked like a scolded puppy.

“I… may have accidentally stained your favorite hoodie,” he admitted sheepishly. “With… curry.”

You blinked. Processing.

Then, in the calmest, most serious tone you could muster, you said, “Xavier, I suggest you start running.”

His eyes flickered with panic, scanning your face for any sign of mercy. There was none.

And so, he listened. He turned on his heel, ready to make his grand escape—but it was already too late. You leapt onto his back, tugging at his hair (just enough to make him suffer, not enough to really hurt him).

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU BETRAYED ME LIKE THIS!” you howled, whining dramatically as you clung to him.

“OW! OW—HEY—OWWW!” He yelped, flailing helplessly under your relentless assault. “I’M SORRY!”

...

After an intense battle, you sat victorious, hair disheveled, while Xavier nursed his wounds—namely, the light bite marks on his arms and his sore neck.

“Keep going,” you instructed, arms crossed as you watched him scribble an apology letter, his wrist cramping from the thousand-word essay you’d demanded as retribution.

He groaned, rubbing his aching hand. “I swear my love for you is being tested right now.”

Guess his clinginess wasn’t entirely unprovoked, after all.

Zayne

You stared at your boyfriend, bewildered, as he clung to you with a desperate intensity—his face buried in your chest, arms wrapped around you like he feared you might vanish. Zayne had his moments, always loved keeping you close, but this? This was… unusual. And incredibly distracting, too, as you felt the warm brush of his breath against your skin while you tried, in vain, to focus on your book.

“Aww, babe, did something happen?” You set the book aside, fingers threading through his hair in slow, soothing strokes.

He let out a deep sigh, his grip tightening instead of answering. The silence was enough to make worry creep up your spine.

Gently, you cupped his cheeks and tilted his face up toward you, only to be met with those eyes—big, soft, and guilt-ridden. Damn those puppy eyes.

“Zayne…” You narrowed your gaze, testing the waters.

His response? To promptly bury his face back in your chest, as if hiding from the inevitable.

Your fingers stilled in his hair. “Spill.”

For a moment, he hesitated. Then, in a voice lower than usual—like he was about to confess a mortal sin—he muttered, “Darling… You do know how much I adore you, don’t you?”

Your brow arched. Suspicion bloomed.

And then, it clicked.

“No. You didn’t.” Your voice teetered on the edge of disbelief.

Zayne sighed. “…I’m afraid I did.”

The limited-edition chocolate. The one your friend had brought from abroad. The one you had been saving for a special occasion.

Oh. Oh, he was dead.

"Zayne," you began, tone deceptively calm, "as much as I love you, I feel like I’m about to kill you right now.”

Finally, he had the decency to sit up, meeting your gaze with an expression that was somehow both stoic and dramatically sorrowful.

“I apologize…” he murmured, as if this was some tragic accident. “I’m not even sure how it happened. One moment, it was in the pantry and then… gone.”

You inhaled sharply. “AGAIN?”

And now?

Zayne sat in front of you, watching—suffering—as you mercilessly devoured all his favorite sweets. Every last thing he was craving, even the rare, limited-edition ones he had been saving.

You held up a delicate macaron, twirling it between your fingers. His eyes lit up, lips parting instinctively, hope flickering in his expression.

“Oh, I bet you’d love a bite, huh?” you mused, bringing it just close enough to tease him.

His mouth barely opened before—poof!—the macaron disappeared. Straight into your mouth.

You smirked. “But traitors don’t deserve sweets.”

Zayne let out a betrayed sigh, slumping back dramatically. As if things weren’t bad enough, you had also sentenced him to the ultimate punishment: a one-week kiss ban.

And for a man who craved your affection like air, that? That was the cruelest torture of all.

Rafayel

Rafayel was clinging to you—as per usual. His body shifted restlessly as he tried to find the perfect spot on your lap, his head nestled against your thighs, his face nuzzling into them like a needy cat.

But something was… off.

Normally, he'd be whining about how comfy you were, or dramatically declaring that he could stay like this forever. But right now? He was unusually quiet. And that immediately set off alarms in your head.

"Raf," you murmured, brushing stray strands of hair from his face, fingers gently tracing his cheek. "Is something bothering you?"

He blinked up at you, and that was when you saw it.

The guilt.

His big, guilty eyes—a look you knew all too well—sent a shiver of suspicion down your spine.

And then, in a deep, tragic sigh, he began.

"Cutie…" He stroked your thighs, voice dripping with exaggerated sorrow. "Is your love unconditional? Would you still love me, even if I committed the worst of crimes?"

Your stomach dropped.

"Rafayel." His full name left your lips like a warning, making him tense. His expression somehow grew even guiltier.

"What did you do?" Your voice was calm—too calm. Your eye twitched slightly.

He hesitated. Then, finally, he exhaled and averted his gaze.

"I... I didn’t mean to," he mumbled. "It just kind of happened..."

Your arms folded. "Go on."

He swallowed.

"I—" He sighed again, looking at you like a man on death row. "I watched the new episode of Love Island without you."

Silence.

The betrayal.

Your breath caught in your throat. "You did what?!"

The sheer audacity. The disrespect. The ultimate relationship crime.

"How could you do this to me?!" you gasped, yanking your legs out from under him so fast that his head hit the couch with a dull thud.

"Ow—!" He winced, sitting up in a panic. His hands grasped yours in desperation. "Wait, don’t do anything drastic! I didn't mean—"

"It's too late now..." You freed your hands from his grip with a slow, deliberate motion.

He stilled.

You both knew what that meant.

...

"OW! Cutie, have mercy—!" Rafayel hissed, thrashing slightly beneath you.

You straddled him with a deadly smirk, tweezers in hand, plucking his body hair with ruthless precision. A sharp yank—his armpit. Another—his stomach. Then his leg. He flinched every time, eyes wild with regret.

"This is cruel!" he whined. "This is inhumane!"

"You did this to yourself." You gave him a faux-sympathetic smile, reaching for his arm next.

Another pluck. Another wince.

Rafayel groaned, flopping back dramatically. "Never again…" he muttered.

You leaned in, whispering in his ear with a wicked grin.

"That's what they all say."

Sylus

You sat comfortably on Sylus’s lap, his arms wrapped around you with a vice-like grip, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Cuddling like this was nothing new—Sylus lived for moments like these—but tonight, there was a different edge to it. A certain... desperation.

His fingers pressed into your back as if to mold you against him, his body tensed yet unwilling to let go.

“What’s got you squeezing me so tight, Sy?” you teased, dragging your fingers along his spine, relishing the way he shivered under your touch.

“Perhaps I just like having you close.” His voice was smooth—too smooth. Normally, the words would’ve made you melt, but there was something in his tone. A certain something you knew all too well.

You stilled. “...Did you do it again?”

The moment the words left your lips, his hold on you tightened.

“…Have I mentioned how absolutely stunning you look today?” He cooed, his lips brushing your skin. Classic. His go-to distraction tactic.

“Nice try,” you deadpanned. “Sylus. Did you, or did you not?”

He sighed, dramatically, like he was the victim here. “He was getting too touchy.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Sylus, you’re going to give the poor guy a heart attack!”

The guy—as in your coworker. The one Sylus had sworn up and down was too friendly with you. The one he had, on multiple occasions, subtly and not-so-subtly terrified to the brink of quitting.

“You don’t need that job,” he muttered, pressing his lips against your shoulder as if that would erase his sins.

You rolled your eyes. “You know what that means.”

He went silent.

You both knew what that meant.

...

"Must I really do this?” Sylus sighed, standing stiffly in front of your workplace like he was being sent to the gallows.

“Yes,” you said firmly. “You will apologize. Or no cuddles and kisses for a week.”

At that, his eye twitched. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.” You smirked, sticking your tongue out at him, watching as his lips quirked into the smallest of smiles before he returned to his signature look of disgusted annoyance.

Just then, the door to the building swung open, and there he was—your coworker. Upon spotting you, he smiled… but then his gaze shifted.

And the second he laid eyes on Sylus?

He yelped and bolted in the opposite direction.

You blinked. “Did he just—”

You turned to Sylus. He was smirking. Smug. As. Hell.

“How am I supposed to ‘apologize’ now, sweetie?” he mused, feigning innocence, though the satisfied glint in his eyes betrayed him.

What a smug, infuriating bastard.

Caleb

Caleb was glued to you—more than usual. His arms wrapped around your waist like a lifeline, his face buried in your shoulder as he let out a deep, dramatic sigh. You barely moved an inch before he was pulling you back in, holding you tighter.

Now, Caleb was always affectionate, but this? This was next-level.

“…Okay, what did you do?” you asked suspiciously, stopping your fingers from running through his hair.

He stiffened.

“What?” He forced out a laugh, lifting his head to look at you with far too much innocence. “Can’t a guy just be madly in love with his gorgeous partner?”

You squinted.

“Caleb.”

“…Yes, my love?”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

He hesitated. His eyes darted to the side. Then—a guilty smile.

Your stomach dropped.

“I may have tripped and somehow landed on your bed, and somehow the diary was open, and somehow my eyes just happened to read the page about how much you love my arms—”

“CALEB.” You pushed him away (he immediately latched back on). “You read my diary?!”

“Hey, hey, don’t be mad!” He tightened his hold, nuzzling into your neck. “I love you even more now! You think I’m devastatingly handsome, and I quote—”

You groaned. “Caleb, you absolute menace—!”

“You wrote a whole paragraph about my voice, pipsqueak” He grinned, shameless. “I didn’t even know you paid attention to—”

“You’re dead to me.”

"Noooo!" He practically climbed into your lap, pulling your arms around him like you had to hold him. “You can’t be mad at me! I am your devastatingly handsome boyfriend, after all—”

"You know what this means." You cut him off, smirking.

"You’re my slave for a whole week."

Caleb gaped at you. “That’s cruel.”

"You deserve it."

"But—"

"You will be fetching me snacks, running my baths, giving me foot rubs, carrying my bag—"

“This is inhumane.”

"Oh, I’m not done." You grinned wickedly. "You will also cook me breakfast every morning, write me a love letter every night, carry me whenever I want, and—oh, this is my favorite part—you will officially be my personal hype man. If I so much as walk into a room, you will dramatically announce my presence and remind everyone that I’m the most beautiful person alive."

Caleb’s jaw dropped.

"You’re insane."

"You read my diary."

"...Fair."

"Oh, and one more thing," you added. "You're now on kiss restriction for three days."

His entire world shattered. "WHAT?!"

"That's right." You tapped his nose condescendingly. "No kisses. No cuddles unless I initiate them. No sweet-talking your way out of this, Mr. Snoops-Through-My-Diary."

He groaned, flopping back onto the couch. "I regret everything."

"You should." You smirked, patting his cheek.

But deep down, you knew Caleb was about to be the most over-the-top servant in history. And honestly? You were so ready for it.

[moonlightwritingf1]

Prove Me Wrong | LN4

࣪ ִֶָ☾. summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N and Lando have always hated each other—forced into the same social circle, their rivalry fueled by clashing personalities and constant bickering. But when a heated debate about men and female pleasure turns into a challenge, neither of them backs down. What starts as an argument quickly spirals into something far more dangerous, and before she knows it, Lando is proving her wrong in the filthiest way possible.

࣪ ִֶָ☾. pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

࣪ ִֶָ☾. word count ━━━━━━━ 7k

࣪ ִֶָ☾. warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, edging, teasing, spanking

Based on this request.

The room hummed with low chatter and the clink of half-empty glasses as the evening wore on. It was late, and the group gathered in Max and Pietra’s cozy London flat had grown comfortably loose-limbed from hours of wine and laughter. Y/N, leaning back on the sofa, watched with a slight smile as Max and Pietra snuggled up on the couch across from her, whispering conspiratorial little things to each other. On her left, a few of Pietra’s friends were debating some trivial pop-culture moment—something about a celebrity’s latest scandal.

Meanwhile, across the coffee table, Lando lounged in an armchair, having just returned from the kitchen with another beer. His gaze slid toward Y/N, and she felt a familiar spark of irritation before she deliberately looked away. They might have been forced into the same social circle due to Max and Pietra, but she and Lando never passed up an opportunity to clash. He was an adrenaline-chasing Formula 1 star, living for speed and bright lights; she was a quiet professional with a nine-to-five, living comfortably in London. Their personalities repelled each other like misaligned magnets.

Eventually, the conversation drifted into flirtations and confessions—someone playfully mentioned the difference between men’s and women’s libidos, and soon half the room was alive with cheeky teasing. Pietra, always unfiltered once a little alcohol coursed through her veins, giggled and asked if anyone had advice for “improving bedroom enthusiasm.” That was enough of a spark to prompt a wave of anecdotes, jokes, and half-serious stories.

Lando snorted. “Oh, come on, we’re all adults here, right? Are we really giving each other sex tips?” he teased, draping an arm across the back of his chair and shooting a grin at Max. Max just laughed and rolled his eyes.

It wasn’t until Y/N felt a sharp elbow from one of Pietra’s friends that she realized they were all looking to her for an opinion—some last word on the subject. She suddenly found herself the center of attention, but she was neither flustered nor shy in that moment. Possibly thanks to the wine, she felt her usual nerves loosen.

“You know what?” she said, sitting forward and catching everyone’s eye. “I think most men don’t really care about female pleasure. Maybe it’s unintentional, but in my experience, they’re just…satisfied when they’re done and forget about their partner. Not all men,” she added quickly, shrugging. “But it sure feels that way most of the time.”

That simple remark seemed to light a fuse. A chorus of opinions erupted—some people agreed vigorously, others jumped in to defend themselves or their partners. But Lando’s eyebrow rose in particular. He set down his beer bottle with a soft clink against the table.

“Really?” he said slowly, his tone half disbelieving, half challenging. “So you’ve just…never found a man who cares? That’s a bold assumption for about half the population.”

Y/N’s expression hardened. She felt the annoyance rising up, fueled by a hidden tension that always sparked around him. “It’s not an assumption,” she retorted, chin lifting. “It's a personal experience. I never said it’s a hundred percent true for every man on the planet, but don’t pretend it doesn’t happen. A lot.”

A flash of something like irritation—or was it amusement?—crossed Lando’s face. His grin was tight, less playful than usual. “So that’s it, huh?” he remarked. “One or two guys drop the ball, and you write off all men?” He shook his head. “That’s just lazy.”

Across the small living room, Pietra and Max exchanged wary glances. They knew it was usually best to let Y/N and Lando hash out their disagreements on their own—but everyone else around them had gone noticeably quiet. The tension in the air was suddenly thick and electric.

Y/N crossed her arms. “I’m not writing anyone off,” she countered, her voice low but unwavering. “I’m just stating a fact from my perspective. It’s been bad enough times that I no longer expect anything else.”

They locked eyes for a moment, and it felt like a silent battle of wills: he refused to look away, and she refused to back down. Then someone changed the subject, and the conversation took a slight turn. But there was no mistaking the fire in their words.

Later that night, when the others had begun to drift off to separate rooms or hail taxis home, Y/N slipped away from the group, heading to the little balcony that overlooked the quiet London streets. She needed a moment to breathe. The evening air was cool, and the wine had warmed her cheeks uncomfortably, leaving her with a restless feeling in her chest.

She didn’t realize Lando had followed her until she heard the sliding door open. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw his silhouette slip onto the balcony. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, effectively shutting out the noise from inside.

She sighed. “What do you want, Lando?”

He set his beer aside on the small balcony table. “We’re obviously not each other’s favorite people,” he began, leaning against the railing. “But that comment you made—about men not caring? It’s nagging at me.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “Why do you care what I think? Unless it bruises your ego?” she said pointedly.

“It’s not my ego,” he shot back. “I just—look, you can’t throw a statement like that around and not expect someone to disagree. I don’t care about your personal experiences. But it’s pretty…narrow-minded to assume that you know how all men operate.”

She turned to face him fully. Her voice was sharp. “I’m not talking about all men. And it’s not narrow-minded to notice patterns. My experiences are real and valid.”

He took a measured breath, exhaling in frustration. “I never said they weren’t. I’m just saying, maybe you’ve been with the wrong guys.” His eyes flicked over her face, searching. “You and I don’t get along, sure. But your assumption that men are selfish in bed—I can’t let that slide.”

Something in his tone—low, determined—sent a shiver through her. She was keenly aware of the space between them, which felt suddenly charged. “Why?” she asked, crossing her arms protectively. “You want to prove me wrong or something?”

His gaze flickered downward, then back up to her eyes. “Maybe I do,” he said quietly, almost a murmur, but there was unmistakable steel in his words.

She felt her pulse kick up. Part of her wanted to argue, to snap at him for his arrogance. The other part was startled by a heat that coiled in her lower belly, spurred by the air of challenge in his stance. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, though her voice sounded unsteady, even to her own ears.

He took a step closer, enough that she caught the clean scent of his cologne mixed with the faint bitterness of beer. “Maybe,” he acknowledged, “but you keep telling me you’re not just generalizing. That it’s a real pattern. How about letting someone show you otherwise?”

She blinked, her throat tight. “You think you’re that someone?”

He didn’t step back. “I know I’m that someone.”

There it was: confidence hovering on the edge of cockiness, and the friction between them flared. She wanted to deny him just to see that smirk wiped off his face. But a spark of defiance coursed through her, and it was intimately bound with desire. She hated him—his smugness, his brashness. Yet the way he looked at her left her trembling in a way she couldn’t ignore.

Her response slipped out before she could stop herself: “Prove it.”

–

No one else was awake to notice the two of them slipping out of Max and Pietra’s flat. Y/N and Lando didn’t bother with lengthy goodbyes—both of them, though they’d never admit it aloud, wanted to keep this a secret from their friends for as long as possible.

Lando had insisted they go somewhere private, his voice low and insistent. “You won’t be able to keep quiet, and I don’t want Max and Pietra to know what’s going on,” he’d said, his tone leaving no room for argument. She’d rolled her eyes, but deep down, she couldn’t deny the thrill that shot through her at the thought.

Because what he wanted from her, and what she was half-daring him to deliver, simply wasn’t going to be quiet.

The next thing she knew, they were in a taxi headed to her apartment, the silence between them heavy with unspoken tension.

They hailed a late-night cab in tense silence, barely looking at each other though the air between them bristled with anticipation. The moment they reached her building, they were out of the taxi and up the stairs without a word, their hearts pounding in unison. Y/N fumbled with her keys, and it felt like an eternity before the lock finally turned. The instant the door swung open, Lando pressed his palm against it to shove it closed behind them.

Inside the small entrance hall, the hush was broken by the sound of their ragged breaths. She stood there, watching him, her nerves blazing with adrenaline. The light overhead was dim, and her senses seemed hyper-focused on the way his chest rose and fell. When he moved toward her, she braced for that first touch as though it might knock the wind out of her.

“I’m giving you one chance,” he said, his voice low, threaded with challenge. “If you’ve changed your mind, say it now.”

Her lips twitched, torn between a retort and a refusal to speak. Instead, she shook her head—a small, certain motion. He closed the space between them in a single step, and the moment his hand cupped her face, a bolt of electricity shot through her. She grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him down for a kiss that started off almost gentle, but quickly dissolved into something filled with need and frustration. They might hate each other in the daylight, but right now, that hatred was fueling a different kind of fire.

They stumbled blindly into the living area, leaving a trail of shoes and jackets behind. At one point, Y/N’s back thumped against a side table, rattling the lamp that sat on it, but she barely noticed. Every nerve in her body zeroed in on Lando’s hands roaming over her—down her waist, up beneath her blouse, across her shoulders. She moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound greedily.

“I don’t want anyone hearing you tonight,” he warned, his breath hitching as he spoke. “Not your neighbors, definitely not our friends.”

Her laugh was breathless, almost taunting. “Then you’d better keep me quiet.”

His eyes flashed with a challenge. “I don’t think so,” he murmured. “I want to hear every sound.”

Somehow, they made it to her bedroom without toppling the furniture. She was the one to flick on the faint bedside lamp; he was the one who slammed the door shut. He looked around at the scattered books, a half-finished glass of water on the nightstand—signs of her normal, everyday life. And here he was, about to disrupt that normalcy for good.

“You can tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, his voice taut with control as he moved in to press her against the edge of the bed.

She met his eyes, her own gaze fevered. Every bit of logic and caution had evaporated the moment they’d brushed their lips in that hallway. “Don’t stop,” she answered, barely more than a whisper.

It was all the invitation he needed. They crashed onto the bed with unrestrained urgency. The softness of the mattress contrasted sharply with the sharpened edge of their mutual hostility. She could taste the remnants of wine on his lips, feel the solid warmth of his body pinning hers. He held her by the wrists at one point, his grip firm but not painful, as if silently reminding her who was in control.

“Told you not every man’s the same,” he muttered, his words a provocative taunt.

She wriggled her wrists free, her own anger igniting. “Shut up,” she hissed, pulling him down again for a fiercer kiss that stoked the embers in her belly. Each movement felt charged: the scrape of his stubble against her neck, the damp press of his lips over her collarbone, the ragged exhalations that mingled in the space between them.

Her mind spun, memories of every argument they’d ever had swirling with the intoxicating reality of his touch. He was surprisingly focused, and though she despised his smugness, she couldn’t deny the jolt of raw pleasure coursing through her. She gripped his arms, nails digging in as a low moan escaped her throat.

“Say it again,” he demanded in a low murmur, his breath hot on her ear. “Say you don’t want me to stop.”

She should have hated giving him the satisfaction, but the words poured out of her like a confession. “Don’t you dare stop.”

He laughed, the sound as dark as it was triumphant. “Good.”

The room was quiet except for the sound of their ragged breaths, the tension between them so thick it felt like it could be cut with a knife. Lando’s hands were already moving, his fingers deftly working the buttons of Y/N’s blouse. She didn’t stop him, didn’t even try to, her body betraying her as she arched into his touch. The fabric fell away, leaving her in just her bra, the cool air of the room brushing against her heated skin.

His gaze dropped, lingering on her chest for a moment before he moved in, his lips finding the curve of her neck. She gasped, her hands gripping his shoulders as he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses along her jawline, down to her collarbone. Each touch was deliberate, teasing, as if he was savoring every inch of her.

“Lando,” she breathed, her voice shaky, but he didn’t respond, too focused on his task. His hands moved to the clasp of her bra, and in one swift motion, it was gone, leaving her completely exposed to him. His eyes darkened as he took her in, his hands roaming over her bare skin, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, but there was no mistaking the hunger in his tone. He leaned down, his lips capturing one of her nipples, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak. She let out a moan, her fingers tangling in his hair as he continued to tease her, his teeth grazing against her skin just enough to make her gasp.

He didn’t stop there, his lips moving down her body, leaving a trail of kisses along her stomach, his hands working to rid her of her jeans and underwear. She kicked them off eagerly, her body trembling with anticipation as he positioned himself between her legs. His hands slid up her thighs, his touch feather-light, and she could feel the heat of his breath against her skin.

“Lando,” she said again, her voice barely above a whisper, but he didn’t answer, his lips brushing against her inner thighs, teasing her until she was squirming beneath him. She could feel the wetness between her legs, her body aching for more, but he was taking his time, savoring every moment.

Finally, he moved in, his breath warm against her most sensitive skin. Without warning, his tongue darted out, flicking against her clit in a precise, teasing stroke that made her gasp sharply, her back arching off the bed. Her hands flew to his head, fingers tangling in his hair, but he didn’t falter. He kept his rhythm slow and deliberate, alternating between soft, lingering licks and sharp, focused flicks that sent jolts of pleasure rippling through her. His hands gripped her hips firmly, pinning her in place as she writhed beneath him, her moans growing louder with each passing second.

“Lando,” she whimpered, her voice trembling with need, but he didn’t respond, his mouth too occupied to speak. His tongue circled her clit, the pressure building with every pass, until she was trembling, her legs shaking uncontrollably. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he pulled back, leaving her gasping for air, only to sink lower, his tongue sliding deep inside her. She cried out, her body jerking at the sudden intrusion, her fingers tightening in his hair.

He didn’t let up, his tongue thrusting in and out of her rhythmically, while his lips found her clit again, sucking gently at first, then harder, pulling every ounce of sensation from her. She was panting now, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts, her hips bucking against his face as she tried to chase the pleasure he was giving her. “Please,” she begged, her voice breaking, but he only smirked against her skin, his fingers replacing his mouth as he slid two inside her, curling them just the way she needed.

Her body tensed, her thighs clamping around his head as he continued to tease her clit with his tongue, his fingers moving in steady, relentless strokes. The coil inside her tightened, the pressure building to an unbearable peak. She could feel it coming, that wave of raw, consuming pleasure, and she clawed at the sheets, her entire body trembling with anticipation.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded, her voice barely a whisper, but it was all he needed to push her over the edge. With a final, deliberate stroke of his tongue, she shattered, her moans filling the room as her orgasm crashed over her in dizzying waves. Her body convulsed, her hips jerking uncontrollably as he worked her through it, his mouth and fingers driving her higher and higher until she was utterly spent, collapsing back onto the bed in a trembling heap.

He didn’t stop until she was completely boneless, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Only then did he pull back, his smug grin visible even in the dim light of the room. He looked up at her, a smirk playing on his lips. “Still think men don’t care about your pleasure?” he asked, his voice teasing, but there was a hint of something else in his tone—something that made her stomach twist.

She didn’t answer, her mind still foggy from the intensity of her orgasm, but he didn’t seem to mind, moving up her body until he was hovering over her, his eyes locked on hers.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he said, his voice low, and she could feel the heat of his body against hers, his erection pressing against her thigh.

She swallowed hard, her heart racing as she looked up at him, the smirk on his lips sending a shiver down her spine.

She watched, her breath hitching, as Lando stood up long enough to peel off his shirt, revealing the lean, muscular planes of his chest. His jeans followed, sliding down his hips along with his boxers, leaving him as bare as she was. Her gaze locked onto him, her mouth going dry as she took in every inch of his body. His chest rose and fell with each breath, muscles taut and defined, glistening faintly under the dim light. Her eyes trailed lower, and she couldn’t help but notice the way his arousal strained against him, thick and hard, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip. She swallowed hard, her mouth watering at the sight, a surge of heat pooling between her thighs. 

He was perfect. Every line, every curve of his body seemed designed to drive her wild. She felt an almost primal urge to touch him, to taste him, to feel him inside her. Her fingers twitched with the need to reach out, but she held back, her breath hitching as she took him in, every detail etched into her mind. 

Lando’s smirk deepened as he caught her staring, his eyes dark with lust. “Like what you see?” he teased, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down her spine. She didn’t trust herself to speak, her body trembling with anticipation as she nodded weakly, her cheeks flushing with desire. The sight of him, so hard and already leaking for her, was almost too much to bear. She wanted him—needed him—and the intensity of that need left her breathless.

Without a word, he was back on top of her, his lips crashing down on hers in a kiss that was as demanding as it was intoxicating. His hands gripped her hips, lifting her slightly as he positioned himself between her legs, the heat of his body pressing against hers. She could feel the weight of him, the urgency in his movements, and it sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through her.

“Prove it,” she challenged again, her voice trembling but defiant, her eyes locked on his. His smirk was wicked, his breath hot against her lips. “Gladly,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. But before he could claim her mouth once more, she reached over to her bedside table, fumbling for a moment before pulling out a condom.

She pressed it into his hand, her gaze never leaving his. “Put it on,” she said firmly, her voice steady despite the heat coursing through her veins. Lando’s eyes flickered, a mix of surprise and amusement crossing his face, but he didn’t argue. With a slow, deliberate movement, he tore open the wrapper and rolled the condom on, his hands steady despite the tension in the room.

The air between them crackled with anticipation as he leaned back over her, his body hovering inches above hers. “Better?” he teased, his voice laced with a dark amusement that sent a shiver down her spine.

She didn’t respond with words, instead pulling him down into a searing kiss that silenced any further conversation. The tension between them was palpable, a mix of hatred and desire that burned hotter with every passing second. His body pressed against hers, the weight of him igniting a fiery need deep within her. She could feel the thickness of him, hard and ready, and her breath hitched as he positioned himself at her entrance.

“Still think men don’t care?” he muttered against her lips, his voice dripping with challenge and something far more primal.

She didn’t answer. He paused, his body still hovering over hers, his cock pressing against her entrance but not giving her what she craved. Y/N’s breath hitched, her hips instinctively trying to push closer, but he held her still, his hands firm on her waist. “C’mon,” he taunted, his voice low and rough, dragging his fingers along her skin in a way that made her shiver. “Say please. Let’s see if you can manage to be polite for once.”

Her jaw tightened, her pride warring with the desperate need coursing through her. She hated him—hated how he could reduce her to this, trembling and aching beneath him. But the ache in her core was too much to ignore. “…Please,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smirked, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her inner thighs. “That wasn’t very convincing.” He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “Try again. Let me hear it like you mean it.”

“Please,” she repeated, her voice louder this time, laced with frustration and need. Her hips bucked involuntarily, but he held her still, his grip unyielding.

“Almost there,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “But I think you can do better than that.”

She groaned, her nails digging into the sheets as she glared at him. “Please, Lando. Just…fuck me.”

His grin widened, dark and triumphant. “That’s better.” Finally, he pushed into her, his cock filling her in one slow, deliberate stroke. The sensation was overwhelming, the way he stretched her, the heat of him pressing against her walls. She gasped, her back arching off the bed as he buried himself fully inside her.

For her, the feeling was like fire and electricity, her body alight with every inch of him. She could feel the throbbing ache of her own need, the wetness that soaked her inner walls, the way her muscles clenched around him, desperate to keep him close. Every thrust sent jolts of pleasure through her, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he moved.

For him, her pussy was a tight, wet fist, gripping him with an intensity that made his head spin. The heat of her, the way her walls fluttered and clenched around him, was almost too much to bear. He could feel every pulse, every quiver of her body as he fucked her, and it drove him wild.

“You feel that?” he growled, his lips brushing against her ear as he thrust into her, slow and deep. “That’s me making you forget every other man you’ve ever had.” His voice was low, rough, and filled with a smugness that made her burn with both anger and desire. “You can hate me all you want, but your body doesn’t.”

She whimpered, her nails digging into his back as he continued to fuck her, each stroke deliberate and unhurried. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t letting her escape the intensity of it. Every inch of him pressed against her, stretching her, filling her, until she was trembling with the need for more.

Just as she felt the coil in her belly tighten, her body hoovering on the edge, he pulled out abruptly, leaving her gasping and empty. Her hips bucked instinctively, trying to chase the sensation, but he held her still, his smirk infuriating. “Not yet,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “I’m not done with you.”

He positioned himself at her entrance again, pressing against her but not pushing in. She could feel the heat of him, the thickness that teased her, and it was maddening. Her breath caught, her fingers clutching at his arms as she tried to pull him closer. “You look so pretty like this,” he teased, watching the way her body reacted to him, how her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. “Begging for it. So desperate.”

“Lando…” she whispered, her voice trembling, her body trembling. “Please…”

Finally, he pushed into her again, this time achingly slow, inch by inch, making her feel every stretch, every bit of him filling her. She gasped, her back arching as he bottomed out, his hips flush against hers. “That’s it,” he whispered, his hand gripping her jaw, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Don’t look away. I want you to see who’s making you feel this good.”

His pace was relentless, his thrusts hard and deep, each one driving her closer to the edge. Her moans filled the room, and every time she let out a sound, he kissed her, his lips capturing hers in messy, desperate kisses that swallowed every gasp, every whimper.

“This what you wanted?” he muttered against her lips, his voice low and teasing. “You begged for it, remember?” His hands moved to her wrists, pinning them down beside her head as he fucked her harder, his body pressing her into the mattress. “Look at you. So fucking pretty when you take me like this.”

When she whimpered from how deep he already was, he just lifted her thighs higher, pushing her knees toward her chest. The new angle made her cry out, her body jerking as he sank even deeper inside her. “Yeah?” he grinned, his thrusts growing more intense. “I thought so.”

Her body tensed, the coil in her belly snapping as she came, her pussy clenching around him in waves of pleasure. For her, it was like being consumed by fire, her entire body shaking as the orgasm ripped through her.

The sensation was overwhelming, her pussy clenching around him in rhythmic pulses, each one sending jolts of electricity through her. It was as if her entire being was consumed by a white-hot heat, the pleasure radiating from her core and spreading through her limbs, leaving her trembling in its wake.

For Lando, the feeling was intoxicating. Her pussy contracted around his cock in a series of tight, gripping waves, each one pulling a groan from deep within him. The heat of her was almost too much, her inner walls fluttering and pulsing against him in a way that made his head spin. It was as if she was milking him, drawing every ounce of sensation from his throbbing length, and it took every ounce of his self-control to keep from spilling right then and there.

She could feel the thickness of his cock, the way it filled her completely, pressing against every sensitive spot inside her. The sensation was both delicious and overwhelming, the friction sending shivers of pleasure through her body. Her nails dug into his back, her hips bucking against him as she rode out the waves of her orgasm, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

“Fuck,” Lando groaned, his voice rough with need. “You feel so good.” His hips snapped forward, driving himself deeper into her, the sensation sending another wave of pleasure through her already sensitive body. “That’s it, beautiful. Let me feel you.”

She whimpered, her body still trembling from the intensity of her climax, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he began to move again, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one dragging against her overstimulated walls. The sensation was unbearable in the best way, the pleasure building once more as he continued to fuck her through her orgasm.

“You’re not done yet,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. “I’m not done with you, baby.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine, the combination of his voice and his cock inside her driving her wild. She could feel every inch of him, the way his length pressed against her sensitive spots, the way his thickness stretched her in the most delicious way. Her body was still trembling, her pussy still fluttering around him, but he didn’t let up, his pace steady and relentless.

“Lando…” she breathed, her voice trembling with need. “Please…”

He smirked, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss that swallowed her moans. “Please what?” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and teasing. “Tell me what you want.”

She didn’t answer with words, instead pulling him closer, her body arching into his as she surrendered to the pleasure he was giving her. Her pussy clenched around him, her body trembling as another wave of pleasure began to build, the sensation overwhelming as he continued to fuck her with slow, deliberate thrusts.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. “Let me feel you.”

She could feel the tension building again, her body hoovering on the edge of another climax, but he didn’t let her fall. Instead, he pulled back slightly, his cock still buried deep inside her, the sensation leaving her gasping. “Not yet,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "Let’s see how much you can take."

Her body trembled, the need for release again almost unbearable, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she leaned into him, her lips capturing his in a kiss that was as desperate as it was passionate. The air between them crackled with tension, the combination of hatred and desire fueling the fire between them. She hated him, but in that moment, she needed him just as much.

And with that, he didn’t give her a moment to recover. One second, she was sprawled on her back, breathless and trembling, the next he was gripping her hips and flipping her onto her stomach with a force that left her gasping. The move was sudden, commanding, and she barely had time to register what was happening before he was pressing her down into the mattress, his weight pinning her in place. Her face buried into the sheets, she felt the heat of his body hovering over her, his presence overwhelming as he positioned himself between her legs once more.

She could hear the faint rustle of the condom as he adjusted, and then, without warning, he was inside her again, his cock sliding deep into her pussy with a single, forceful thrust. She cried out, her fingers clawing at the sheets as he began to move, his pace relentless from the start. His hands gripped her hips tightly, pulling her back into him with every thrust, forcing her to take him exactly how he wanted. Her body rocked against the bed, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the room, mingling with her muffled moans.

One of his hands left her hip, and before she could react, it came down hard on her ass with a sharp spank. The sound echoed in the room, followed by a gasp torn from her lips. Her body jerked, her pussy clenching around him involuntarily, and he let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying her reaction. He did it again, and again, each smack leaving a faint sting that only heightened the pleasure coursing through her. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, her body trembling as he continued to fuck her, his hand alternating between gripping her hip and spanking her until her ass was flushed and tingling.

“You like that?” he growled, his voice rough and thick with lust. She could only whimper in response, her body too overwhelmed to form words. His hand snaked up her back, pressing her down further as he leaned over her, his chest now flush against her back. The heat of him was searing, the firmness of his chest pressing into her spine sending shivers down her body. His weight pinned her in the most delicious way, making her feel small, vulnerable, and utterly at his mercy.

One of his hands moved to her wrists, pinning them above her head, while the other tangled in her hair, his fingers gripping the roots firmly. He tugged gently, tilting her head back, and she let out a low moan, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through her. His lips brushed against her ear, his breath hot as he whispered, “You’re taking me so well, Y/N. So fucking good for me. Your pussy feels incredible, so tight, so wet. You were made for this.”

His words sent a wave of warmth flooding through her, her body trembling as he continued to praise her. She loved it—loved the way his voice rasped in her ear, the way his words made her feel like she was the only thing in the world that mattered to him in that moment. His grip on her hair tightened, sending another thrill through her, the mix of pleasure and pain making her even more desperate for him.

He kissed her cheek, open-mouthed and messy, his lips trailing down to her neck as he continued to fuck her with deep, punishing strokes. His hips snapped forward, each thrust driving his cock deep into her, the angle hitting her in ways that made her see stars. She could feel every inch of him, the way his length stretched her, the way his thickness filled her completely. Her pussy clenched around him, her body writhing beneath him as she tried to get even closer, to take him even deeper.

The way his chest pressed against her back was intoxicating—solid, unyielding, and grounding. It made her feel small and safe in a way that only heightened the intensity of what he was doing to her. She could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way his breath hitched every time her pussy fluttered around him. The combination of his weight, his warmth, and the relentless rhythm of his thrusts was overwhelming, and she could feel herself teetering on the edge once more.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice breaking with need. “Cum for me, Y/N. Let me feel you.”

His words pushed her over the edge. Her body tensed, her back arching as her orgasm crashed over her, waves of pleasure rippling through her with an intensity that left her gasping. Her pussy clenched around him, milking his cock as she shuddered beneath him, her moans muffled by the sheets.

And then he was there with her. With a guttural groan, his hips stuttered, and he came hard, his cock pulsing inside her as he filled the condom with his release. His body trembled against hers, his grip on her wrists and hair tightening as he rode out his climax, his breath hot against her neck.

For a moment, they stayed like that, both of them breathless and spent, his weight pressing her into the mattress. Slowly, he released her wrists and hair, his fingers brushing against her scalp as he let go. He kissed her shoulder softly, almost tenderly. Then with a groan, Lando pulled out of her, the sudden emptiness making her shudder. He sat back on his heels, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he quickly removed the condom. His fingers were steady despite the lingering haze of pleasure, tying it off with practiced efficiency to ensure nothing spilled. He tossed it into the nearby bin before collapsing beside her on the bed, his body sinking into the mattress with a heavy sigh.

The air between them was thick with the remnants of their shared intensity, the faint scent of sweat and sex lingering. He didn’t speak, instead lying there with his eyes closed, his breathing gradually slowing as he caught his breath. She stayed quiet too, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her orgasm, her mind too clouded to process much beyond the weight of him beside her and the warmth of his body close to hers.

For a moment, it was as if time had stopped, the world outside their little bubble fading into insignificance. The only sound was the soft rhythm of their breathing, a quiet reminder of what had just transpired between them. Hate or desire—whatever it was that bound them together—felt far less important now, replaced by a strange, unspoken closeness neither of them would admit to.

But as the silence stretched on, Y/N couldn’t help but glance over at him, her eyes tracing the lines of his face, the faint sheen of sweat on his skin, the way his chest rose and fell in a steady, calming rhythm. She didn’t know what to say—what could she say?—so she stayed quiet, her body still trembling faintly as she tried to make sense of it all.

Lando, for his part, seemed content to let the silence linger, his eyes still closed, a faint smirk playing on his lips as though he could sense her staring. But he didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t acknowledge the tension that still hung in the air between them. He simply lay there, breathing, his presence a quiet reminder of the line they’d just crossed—and the inevitable fallout that would follow.

She turned her head to look at him again, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her orgasm. He met her gaze, his smirk soft now, less teasing. “Still think men don’t care?” he asked, his voice low and rough, but there was a hint of something else in his tone—something that made her stomach twist in a way she wasn’t ready to examine.

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.

She tried to shift on the bed, but her body protested instantly. Her thighs were sore, her pussy still throbbing from the intensity of it all, overstimulated and sensitive. She winced slightly, and Lando noticed. Without a word, he pushed himself up, his movements fluid despite the exhaustion etched into his features. He disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with a glass of water. He handed it to her, his smirk faint but still present as she took it, her fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment.

Once she’d finished drinking, he set the glass aside and tugged at the sheets, pulling them up over her. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he adjusted the covers around her, making sure she was comfortable. She didn’t thank him, and he didn’t expect her to. But when he slid back onto the bed beside her, he didn’t leave her entirely. Instead, his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer until her back was pressed against his chest. His fingers traced lazy patterns on her skin, his touch light but deliberate.

“Don’t think this means anything,” he muttered, his voice low and rough against the back of her neck. “I still hate you.”

She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t pull away. The warmth of his body was comforting, even if she’d never admit it. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back, his heartbeat a quiet rhythm that seemed to sync with hers. For a moment, she let herself relax into him, her body still humming with the lingering pleasure of what they’d just done.

But then, just when she thought it was over, he leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “You still think you hate me?” he whispered, his voice husky and filled with dark amusement. She could feel his smirk against her skin, and it sent a shiver down her spine. “I think you need another reminder.”

Her breath hitched, her body betraying her as she pressed back against him instinctively. She hated how easily he could unravel her, how his words could send heat pooling between her thighs again. She didn’t respond, but he didn’t need her to. He already knew the effect he had on her.

They stayed like that for a while, tangled up in the sheets, their bodies still buzzing with the aftermath of their shared intensity. Eventually, he tilted his head down, his lips grazing hers in a kiss that was equal parts smug and tender. “You were so desperate for me,” he murmured against her mouth, his voice barely above a whisper. “Bet you won’t ever forget this.”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The truth was written in the way her body still trembled against his, in the way her breath stuttered at his touch. And as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She wouldn’t forget this—not for a long time.

[trashytracktales]

https://www.tumblr.com/trashytracktales/778028575513280512/hey-babe-i-cant-stop-thinking-about-lando-fucking

a fic like this would probably kill me, just saying...👀

Season opener | LN⁴

🔸️ inspired by this ask

🔸️ summary ──── After securing his first win of the season, Lando can’t wait to celebrate with his girlfriend.

🔸️ pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

🔸️ rating ──── explicit

🔸️ warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, descriptive language, smut, swearing, semi-public setting, desperate!Lando, unprotected sex (against the wall), mild praise kink and possessiveness, overstimulation, interrupted intimacy (oops 👀).

🔸️ word count ──── 2.7k

🔸️ date ──── Mar. 25, 2025

🔸️ a/n ──── Here’s a little quickie to hold you over before I drop a 10k (so far) one-shot later this week. That mf has been living rent-free in my brain for a month now, and if I don’t end up posting it, you guys officially have permission to throw tomatoes at me. Enjoy this while you wait 💋

THERE’S STILL A lot of noise ringing in Lando’s ears, even as he’s dragged from one obligation to the next. The podium was nice, the feeling of being drowned in champagne and cheers always welcome, even though it can get really uncomfortable. It’s been a weekend full of twists and turns that, thankfully, is coming to a happy ending for him. But the real celebration awaits in his driver’s room.

However, it seems like the universe has decided to taunt him some extra today, with the post-race interviews where every question feels like it stretches time longer than naturally possible, and the conference where he has to relive every lap, as if there weren’t thousands of cameras that captured every angle of the race.

A real-life purgatory, that’s what it feels like.

His body is still running hot, adrenaline refusing to settle and, trough it all, there’s only one thought consuming his mind. He’s trying not to think about her, though, or the orange mini dress she picked out weeks ago for the season opener. He even tries not to imagine the curves of her body every time he blinks or to hear her soft voice in his mind, that sweet whimper that makes him more tense with every touch.

Lando grips the back of his neck as he listens to another useless question, his patience wearing thin. He can still feel the weight of her teary eyes on him earlier, the way she had smiled at him when he climbed out of the car. It was quick, a moment stolen in the chaos, but he caught it. It was theirs. And ever since, he’s been aching to get back to his girlfriend.

From the conference he is dragged straight to the debriefing and, by the time that finally ends, Lando is already moving before anyone can stop him; he mutters something about needing a minute and storms down the hall. His race suit is still damp from sweat and champagne, hugging his muscles, the collar pulled loose where he had yanked at it earlier. His curls are a mess, damp at the roots, and his entire body is vibrating with something more than just the thrill of the first win of the season.

He doesn’t hesitate at all when he reaches his room. Just opens the door eagerly, closing it just as quickly. The second he sees her, his stomach flips.

She’s already standing up from the little couch, her face lighting up the moment she realizes it’s him. “Congratulations, my lo—”

Lando is on her in an instant, crossing the small space with long steps and grabbing her waist, lifting her off the ground. She gasps in surprise, laughing breathlessly as her arms wrap around his neck, her fingers threading into his damp curls at the back of his head.

“Oh! Someone missed me, I see,” she giggles, breathing against his cheek.

Lando exhales deeply, his chest heaving, hands tightening around her hips. He can’t think straight, can’t focus on anything but her warmth against him, the scent of her sweet perfume mixing with the sharp tang of champagne on his suit.

“You have no idea. I was losing my fucking mind,” he admits, chuckling in return. He presses his forehead against hers, his breath hot. Purposely, his hands slide down her back, pressing her flush against him. “Thought about you the whole time. Could barely focus.”

Before she can catch her breath, her back meets the hard surface of the nearest wall. Another startled gasp leaves her lips, swallowed instantly by his mouth, his kiss demanding in ways she’s felt it before.

But not like this.

It’s the kind of kiss that takes her by surprise, leaves her thoughtless and very, very aroused. The dress has already lifted up her thighs, and they’re squeezing around him as if Lando could get out of her embrace if she’s not careful. What soothes her, however, is the fact that he is the one who pushes himself even harder against her, pressing his chest against hers until he almost leaves her out of breath.

Lando’s race suit is tight around his body, but he doesn’t have enough energy to care about anything else but her. All he knows is the way her lips part, letting him in like she has no choice, the way her fingers grip his shoulders, and the way his entire body feels like it’s still racing. Only now, it’s for and because of her.

She deepens the kiss, messy and uncoordinated, teeth grazing and tongues tangling in a tender yet rushed desire. Her hands run up the expanse of his arms, feeling the tension in his muscles as he holds her up effortlessly, her feet barely touching the ground. His biceps flex under her touch, and the realization that he’s holding back, restraining himself just enough so he doesn’t break her against that wall, only makes her more pliable in his arms.

“In here?” she asks between kisses.

Lando lets out a little noise while exhaling, feeling her heat pressed against him even through layers of clothing. One of his hands moves, lifting her dress even higher, until it hangs somewhere around the middle of her waist. His fingers are hungrily skimming her bare skin, until they find the waistband of her panties. He doesn’t have enough patience to tease. Just pulls at them, dragging the thin fabric down her thighs and letting it pool at her ankles.

“That answers your question?” asks Lando, feeling her nails digging into his shoulders as she tries to steady herself.

“Mhm,” she lets out a shaky breath, “So eager.”

Lando grins, shrugging, “Got some adrenaline left I need to burn off.”

He groans in frustration as he fumbles with his zipper, refusing to let go of her even for a second. Finally, he yanks it down just enough, his breath heavy as he works himself free with a sharp hiss. In all the rush, Lando’s hands won’t stay away from her hips for too long, keeping her exactly where he needs her.

The girl watches him, eyes filled with amusement despite the heat between them. Then she laughs, a silky sound that makes his heart race in his chest. Lando looks at her and something tender flickers in his gaze, even as he pushes his hips forward, even as the impatience still coils hot in his veins.

“You think this is funny?” he asks, lips curving into a smirk.

She shakes her head, though still amused at the image in front of her, and the way he’s so impatient he can’t even get out of the suit properly. “Nope. I think it’s hilarious.”

Lando scoffs dramatically, like he can’t believe her audacity. “Oh, yeah?” he challenges, his voice lower now. “Let’s see how funny you find this, then.”

Before she can throw another quip his way, his hand slides between her thighs, fingers trailing over her entrance with a lazy kind of intent. She sucks in a breath, all the amusement vanishing in a blink of an eye, her head knocking back against the wall as her body responds to his familiar touch.

Lando watches her reaction, the smirk widening on his flushed face. “Shit, you’re right,” he agrees, dipping his fingers in just enough to make her shudder. “It is hilarious,” he tilts his head, pretending to think. “Yeah. Getting wet so quickly almost has me rolling on the floor.”

He slides his fingers up and down her opening, then pushes two at once inside, curling them right before pulling out, only to make her squirm. Her thighs tighten around his waist, demanding more, but it’s not about her right now. It’s about him, making it a moment worthy of the Winner’s Room.

He’s painfully hard next time he cups himself, and the first press of his cock against her clit sends a shiver up her spine. Lando drags his length down her folds with uncharacteristic patience, until the distance between them diminishes completely, and he kisses her again, lazier than before. Their world becomes substantially smaller, and there’s just hot skin, erratic breathing, and the slick, aching need to be as close as possible. He lines himself up and thrusts in one smooth motion, punching a moan from her lips that she barely manages to swallow down.

Lando lets his forehead fall to hers, chuckling gently. “Not too loud, yeah?”

She shakes her head, “Don’t ruin the fun.”

He’s buried inside her, stretching so sweet that it sends a full-body shudder through her. The wall behind is harsh, but all she can focus on is the way he fills her completely. How he holds her there, with no chance to slip away. Not that she wants to be anywhere else but here, right now, with him.

Lando’s fingers grip her tighter as he pulls back, then slams into her again, feeling her walls pulsing faster around his cock. A broken whimper escapes her, her head falling defeated on his shoulder. It makes him curse under his breath, finally finding a rhythm that’s both deep and devastating. Each thrust forces a soft cry from her throat, her body moving in unison with his, nails raking down his sweaty back.

The way she pulls him in turns Lando on even more, the only sounds between them the ragged breaths and the wet, obscene noises of him fucking her right there, against the wall.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” exclaims Lando, biting down on her shoulder, his hips snapping up harder.

She lets out a hiss, her head is spinning while pleasure is building gradually, her body burning from the inside out. She fists his curls, dragging his mouth back to hers, swallowing his groans as she squeezes him.

“That’s so good, baby. Shit. Keep doing that.”

The way she feels around him, the way she moans and gasps his name, the way her body reacts to him like she was made for him — everything gets too much for Lando. Yet, he somehow finds himself craving more of her. His movements grow sloppier, pushing him to drive into her faster.

“Lando…” she moans his name in a whisper, cupping his face with the intention to kiss him. But the way he’s moving inside her makes her weak, so she ends up holding on to him with limited strength, like her life depends on it.

And right now, it does.

Their eyes meet just as he lifts her thigh higher on his waist, the small adjustment allowing him to sink deeper.

“Fuck, Lando,” she whines, her voice barely more than a breath. “You feel so—”

He doesn’t let her finish. A hard thrust has her choking on her words, and the way she clenches down around him makes his jaw go slack.

“Yes, tell me,” he urges, his voice too unsteady, hanging on by a thread, while his fingers press into the curve of her waist like he’s trying to brand himself into her skin.

She loses it, her hands tugging at his hair just to hear his little noises in return. “Feel so good, love,” she breathes heavily, her head falling back, exposing her throat. “Fucking me so good.”

A guttural curse escapes him, dragging her against him with a pace that makes her cry out in pleasure. “That so?” he rasps, his teeth grazing her jaw before his lips claim hers, swallowing every desperate sound she makes. “Then take it, baby,” he orders gently, “All of it. All for you.”

“Shit—don’t stop,” she begs, her eyes teary because of how tense with pleasure her body gets.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “Feel how perfect you are? How fucking tight, hm? That’s it,” he encourages her, watching the way her lashes flutter open to look at him. “Gonna let me feel you fall apart?” asks Lando, going somehow even deeper with each thrust.

Her back arches, a broken moan spilling from her lips. She’s so full and desperate to come, and he knows she’s close; her whines and the way her body reacts giving it away in the most obvious way.

“Need you, Lan,” she breathes in spasms, “Please.”

“I can see that, baby. Come on,” he grits out, his movements turning frantic. “Let me have it.”

Her body trembles at his words, at the sheer heat in his voice. The way he holds her, firm and possessive, sends her spiraling. Every thrust, every rough snap of his hips only winds her tighter, like he’s pulling her apart piece by piece just to put her back together again.

“Lan-do,” she breathes, voice breaking on his name. “I… oh, fuck,” she can barely think anymore, barely breathe with the way he’s fucking into her, like stopping isn’t even an option.

His hand slides up her side, gripping the back of her neck, tilting her head so she has no choice but to meet his gaze again. His eyes are way too dark now, blown wide with lust, sending another wave of heat flooding through her veins. He goes harder when he sees the desire on her face, pushing her further against the wall, and she lets out a high-pitched moan before biting her lip, remembering where they are.

“Wanna feel you all over my cock,” she hears him saying, but she’s so overstimulated now that can’t quite process the meaning of his words. She’s not sure she’s even breathing as Lando presses his body against her with more force, continuing, “Be a good girl and let go for me.”

That’s all it takes. Her body seizes, her head spinning as pleasure rips through her, hot and intense. And endless. She clenches around him, pulsing, shaking, and the feeling, the sight of her unraveling for him, sends Lando spiraling too.

He chokes out a curse, burying his face in her neck as he surrenders, his hips pressing deep and desperate to keep her close as he fills her. The warmth spreads between them, spilling down her thighs, and the sheer filthiness of it only makes her moan, her fingers flying to curl in his hair once again.

Lando rests his forehead against hers, panting, his lips ghosting over her cheek. He doesn’t move away just yet. Instead, he pulls out, and a sharp whimper escapes her as she feels the mess they’ve made drip down her thighs.

Then, without warning, he pushes back in making her gasp silently this time, her hands gripping his shoulders.

“Wait, Lan,” she almost cries, her voice raw.

He keeps her still while he rolls his hips, slow and teasing, his other hand trailing down her stomach before settling low on her belly.

She shudders at the touch and at the way he’s still so deep inside of her, tilting her head and blinking heavy-lidded. “Wh—what are you doing?”

Lando barely hears her. His attention is caught on where they’re still connected, mesmerized by the way his cock glistens with their release as he continues to lazily move in and out. He watches the way her spent body still takes him in, so perfectly, his jaw clenching as pleasure coils in his gut all over again. It sends his head spinning, the wet sensation of skin on skin almost maddening.

Every shift, every sudden flutter of her walls around him, threatens to pull him under completely.

“Fuck, baby,” his raspy voice is laced with adoration. “I can look at you all day.”

Her body is already responding before her mind can catch up. She clenches around him again and again, and Lando chuckles lowly, the sound rich with satisfaction.

“Oh, shit! You like that, don’t you? Hearing how good of a girl you are for me, hm?”

She nods and, without meaning to, she tightens around him harder.

Lando’s grin turns smug. “Yeah, you do,” his hips still for a beat, his hands flexing against her waist before he gives her one hard thrust that knocks the air from her lungs. “Like that, baby,” he groans, the words dripping with heat. “Keep me in.”

The sensation of her pulling him even deeper rips a moan straight from his throat, and Lando drops his forehead to her shoulder, breathing heavily.

“Fucking hell, you’re killing me,” he rasps, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against her damp skin. “Swear to God, I’ll come again if you—”

“Lando?” a muffled, familiar voice rings out from the other side of the door, accompanied by knocking. “Your parents are waiting, mate. You good in there?”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

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© trashy track tales, 2025

[maskedbyghost]

+18, smut, i just love this trope...

I just love the idea of enemies with benefits with Simon. Something about the way he gets under your skin makes it impossible not to want to claw at his face—or his clothes. And you know he feels the same way.

The whole base knows you two hate each other. It’s loud, it’s aggressive, and it’s not subtle in the slightest. He makes your life hell, and you make his just as miserable. The missions go fine because professionalism and survival come first, but the second you’re off the field, it’s back to constant fights.

Which is why it’s no surprise when he pisses you off more than usual today. He’s been in your space all damn day, throwing orders around like he owns you, like he’s your superior—which he isn’t. He’s just unbearable. A six-foot-two pain in your ass. And when you snap back at him, when you throw that sharp look his way, he only grins beneath that stupid mask, like he’s enjoying every second of it.

So later that night, after stewing in your anger for hours, you march straight to his quarters. You don’t knock. You don’t hesitate. You push the door open, see him sitting on the edge of his bed, and start yelling.

“You think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you?” You kick the door shut behind you. Your jacket is already sliding off your shoulders.

Simon stands, unbothered, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “I don’t think, sweetheart. I know.”

You glare. “You are the most irritating—” You yank your shirt over your head and toss it aside. “—arrogant—” Your belt clinks as you unbuckle it. “—self-righteous asshole I’ve ever met.”

He watches you, something dark in his gaze, and then, just as fast, he’s yanking his own shirt off, tossing it behind him. “And you’re a stubborn little brat,” he shoots back, stepping toward you.

You push at his chest. “I hate you.”

His hands find your waist, grip tight, pulling you closer. “You love this cock, though.”

Your breath hitches, but you don’t back down. “Fuck you.”

“Yeah, you’re about to.”

And then it’s a mess of teeth and hands, a battle for control that neither of you ever truly wins. It’s rough and desperate and fueled by everything you can’t say with words—except for the insults, because those fly just as easily as the clothes hitting the floor.

Simon shoves you against the bed, pressing his weight over you, his hands pinning yours above your head as he mouths at your neck, biting, leaving marks just to make a point. You arch up against him, teeth sinking into your lip to keep from moaning, but he knows better.

“You always try so hard to fight it,” he growls, nipping at your jaw before dragging his mouth lower. “But you always end up right here.”

You yank at his wrists, but he doesn’t budge. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

“And you’re so fucking wet for me,” he taunts, pressing his knee between your thighs, making you gasp. “All that talk, all that hate—” His fingers slip beneath your waistband, pulling your last scrap of clothing down your legs. “And yet, you’re dripping for it.”

You bite back a retort, too focused on the way he’s lining himself up, teasing, and drawing it out just to get on your nerves. You glare up at him, breathing heavily. “If you don’t hurry the fuck up, I swear—”

Simon smirks, then pushes in with one rough thrust, knocking the breath from your lungs. “That what you wanted, sweetheart?”

You claw at his back, nails digging in as he sets a brutal pace, like he’s punishing you for every snarky remark, every glare, and every little thing you did to piss him off today. Your legs wrap around him, pulling him deeper, and the room fills with the sound of skin on skin, the creak of the bed, and the way your bodies collide like this is just another fight neither of you is willing to lose.

“Still hate me?” he taunts against your ear after some time, his voice rough and breathless.

You tilt your head back, gasping when he hits the perfect spot. “So much.”

He laughs, dark and smug, thrusting harder. “Yeah? Then why are you coming all over my cock?”

Your hands scramble for something to hold onto, nails scratching down his arms as pleasure rips through you, spine arching, head tipping back. He follows soon after, burying himself deep, groaning against your skin as he spills inside you, holding you close like he doesn’t want to let go.

For a long moment, there’s only heavy breathing, sweat-slicked skin, and the sound of both of you trying to catch your breath. And then, finally, Simon rolls onto his side, smirking at you in the dim light.

“Still hate you,” you mumble.

Simon chuckles, lazy and satisfied. “Sure you do, love.”

----------------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap

[shouyuus]

direct continuation of this; part of the apt neighbor!vi au

apartment neighbor!vi who disappears, or at least tries to -- no more weekend visits, no more tuesday night movie dates -- you still see her, or rather, catch glimpses of her here and there, but she's always ducking away or off somewhere before you can catch her, and for a someone who's so conspicuous, she's more slippery than you could've ever imagined. and at first, you're angry -- hurt, confused -- but the pain dulls after a week, two, and soon enough, there's only the barest flinch whenever you see her silhouette slipping down the hallway when you catch her coming back from the gym, or in the mail room --

once, you catch the bright chime of powder's voice as vi opens her door, and you could've sworn you heard your name, but the next second, the door's slamming closed behind her, and powder's voice cuts off like an old record.

apartment neighbor!vi who still goes to the gym, and it's the only real place you see her, but she's always got her headphones banded over her bright red hair, her eyes narrowed -- the bandages around her knuckles are tattered, stained with what looks like blood. there are new cuts and bruises scattered along her arm and what looks like a fresh scab at the corner of her lip.

you don't ask; you figure that if she'd wanted you to know, she would've told you by now.

apartment neighbor!vi who is not there the first time you let curiosity get the better of you and maps the way to her family's pub -- it's a divey kind of place, but spacious and well-kept, with dartboards lining the walls and an old fashioned jukebox in the corner. the man behind the counter glances up with a grin, a slight dip between his brows, an old pipe between his lips.

"bit early for a girl like you to come wanderin' in here," he says, with a voice that rumbles through you, even from a distance. you clear your throat and check your watch -- yeah, 2pm on a wednesday isn't peak hours for a bar like this but it's what you were hoping for.

"oh -- sorry, are you guys not open yet?" you glance back at the door, afraid that you'd missed some sort of signage but the man just laughs and shakes his head.

"nah, we're open. c'mon in," he gestures to the empty bar top, and sets down a glass with a heavy hand.

you eye it for a second before skittering over and sliding up onto one of the barstools, glancing around to take in the scene.

"lookin' for vi, i assume?"

you jump at the sound of vi's name, your eyes slingshotting back to the man, who breaks out into a loud bark of laughter, pouring you a full glass of water.

"h-how did -- has vi said something?"

the man shrugs, pushing the water towards you; you grab it for lack of anything better to do, taking a tentative sip as he eyes you with beady, beatle-black eyes, shining with mirth.

"you pour people drinks for long enough and you start to get a knack for puzzlin' out what they want when they walk in -- kinda person they might be, why they're comin' in -- gets to be a kinda game if you get good enough at it," he leans in with a conspiratorial wink that sets you at ease. you feel your own shoulders drop a bit as you set the glass back down on the counter and lick your lips.

"so you must be vander," you say, the name ringing back through your sifted memories -- vi on a tuesday night, after a movie about race cars or something, chattering about the bar and how her stepdad always gets on her about flirting with the customers too much.

vander nods, taking a soft puff of his pipe and leaning back.

"and you must be the neighbor girl that vi's not been able to shut up about," he muses, making you gag on your next sip of water. he lets out another booming laugh and reaches behind the counter to hand you a stack of napkins. you mop at the water dripping down your chin, feeling your cheeks burn.

"sorry, sorry -- forgive an old man his good time," he says with another good-natured wink before his jovial expression flattens, "but if you're here wonderin' what she's been doin'... then you're fresh outta luck, darlin'."

you frown, cupping your fingers around your half-drunk glass of water.

"i'm just... worried about her."

vander grunts, shrugging up a single, massive shoulder.

"standing room only on that bus, i'm afraid."

you let out a soft scoff of laughter, nodding.

"it's sweet of you to come knockin', but... she's a stubborn one, and if she doesn't wanna tell us then..." another shrug, another sigh, "no one's gonna be able to force it outta her."

you nod again, feeling rather wilted as vander reaches over to pat your shoulder with a large hand. he chuckles.

"tell ya what, here -- have a drink -- on the house."

he grabs a wine glass and sets it in front of you with a tiny flourish. as second later, a deep red liquid fills your glass and you stare up at him as he grins.

"i figured you were a cab sav kind of girl -- but tell me if i'm wrong, and i'll swap it out for anything else you might like."

you shake your head, laughing as you tug the wine glass closer, "nope. you're spot on."

apartment neighbor!vi who shows up hammered, with no preamble, banging down your door a on friday night (though it really is late enough to be called saturday morning) -- you answer with a frying pan clutched in one hand, a hissing sigh whistling through you the second you see who's on the other side. the pan drops and you're about to be angry, but your eyes catch on the fresh bruises blooming across the high of her cheeks, a bump the side of a golf ball swelling up above her right eye.

"o-oh my god, vi! what happened?!" you jump back as she nearly collapses into your doorway, barely catching herself against your shoe-rack.

"jus... missed you, sugar! can't a girl... miss... someone she likes?" she slurs, shaking her head as she pushes herself up; you blink rapidly at her, your chest a tight whirlwind of questions and concerns. it's all eclipsed, however, by alarm, as she lurches into your apartment and nearly smashes into your hallway wall, looping an arm around your shoulder -- you stumble beneath her weight, struggling to keep her upright.

"vi? vi -- you're drunk --"

"nah this ain't nothin' -- just wanted a few after -- after getting beat up, ain't that normal? damn -- got so fucked in the ring -- that match was fixed -- shoulda known smeech couldn't be trusted -- that slimy, money-hungry bastard --"

you somehow manage to half-drag vi into your living room and dump her on the couch, fluttering around for a large glass of water and a first aid kit.

"what -- what're you saying?" you ask, even as you force her to take a large gulp of water (she makes a face as if it's vodka before downing the rest in a few long gulps -- a few beads of water trickle passed her chin and into the collar of her stained tanktop). but in between the fragments and incoherent mumbles, a slow realization starts to coalesce inside you as you inch closer to her and convince her to sit still.

"vi...?"

"mm." she hiccups, flinching slightly as you dab at a cut on her cheek with an antibacterial wipe.

"are you... in some sort of... fight club, or something?"

vi makes a grumbling noise, her eyes fluttering closed; she sways a little as you continue to gently clean out her wounds. her breath carries the sharp, turpenic smell of cheap alcohol as she lets out a long sigh.

"somethin' like that... kinda like a boxing ring -- i'm pretty damn good at it, most nights," she adds, hissing again even as you jerk back, pursing your lips. she crinkles her nose before wiping a hand across her mouth, staring blankly down at the fresh blood smeared onto her skin.

"and... i'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that this boxing ring thing... isn't legal, right?"

vi tries her best at one of her usual, charming, lopsided grins, but it just ends up looking something like a grimace instead.

"legal's not where the money is, sweetness."

you lean forward with a fresh sanitary wipe and motion for her to hold still again. she does, offering you her other cheek, her eyes now startlingly clear as they flicker over the planes of your face. you wonder how drunk she really is, or if she's just gotten terribly good at hiding it.

"but... i thought that you guys were in a rent-controlled unit? what'dyou need all this money for?"

vi scoffs, her eyes lowering.

"pow's university tuition isn't gonna pay for itself."

her voice is soft, low, her words steady. you pause, frowning slightly at her as she sighs and leans back to cast you a sad little grin.

"ah... now that i've told you, 'fraid i'm gonna have to killa ya," she winks. you don't smile, only turning to discard the dirty wipe for another fresh one.

"i thought the bar --"

"it doesn't make enough -- and powder -- she --" vi sucks in a long breath, her eyes fluttering closed. when she opens them again, it's the eyes you remember, the eyes you'd spent so many afternoons and evenings staring into -- there's light and laughter, a fire that can't be extinguished, a light that can't be dimmed, a hard-lined conviction that makes them shine even on the darkest of moonless nights.

"she deserves every opportunity. that girl --" vi lets out a helpless little scoff, "she's gonna change the world one day, i just know it. if we can only --" she makes an abortive gesture with her hand.

you nod, reaching out to wipe away a small smudge of eyeliner beneath her eye. she stills beneath your touch, the cool of your skin against her burning cheek makes her shiver.

a thin tendril of tired, incredulous laughter slithers up your chest; vi's eyebrows kick up as you let out a giggle -- the only warning she gets -- before you're toppling into a fit of truly stomach-clenching laughter, leaning back into your sofa cushions, clutching your belly.

"a-are you alright?" vi asks, blinking at you with mild alarm as you shake your head, flapping your hands at her, unable to form any kind of coherent thought. you wipe at the tears forming at the corner of your eyes, and somewhere between one breath and the next, your laughs turn into frustrated sobs, and you shove vi reproachfully as she stares at you, totally nonplussed by this strange turn of events.

"y-you're such an idiot!" you say between heaving breaths, rubbing at your eyes. you feel lightheaded; the clock on the microwave blinks a bleary 4:42AM at the pair of you.

vi stares, completely nonplussed as you sniffled and reach over to snag a few tissues, daubing at your eyes.

"there're so many things you can do to get money -- you don't have to --" you gesture at her, "get yourself killed in an illegal fighting ring -- and you don't --" you jab a single finger into her chest, hard enough for her to flinch back, "have to try to do it alone."

she blinks, once, twice --

"uh..."

you sigh, rolling your eyes, "god, you're so stupid -- for someone with a genius sister --"

vi makes a slightly affronted noise, "i got good grades in school!"

you tear open a packet of neosporin with perhaps more savagery than necessary, nearly dropping it. you glare at the tiny packet before squeezing a large dollop onto your finger and motioning for vi to lean in. she eyes you for a solid three seconds before slowly leaning forward.

you lave the gel onto the cut on her cheek before peeling open a bandaid to cover it up.

"there. that's waterproof, so it won't come off when you take a shower."

"when i take a shower?" vi asks, her head cocking to one side.

you cast her a sharp look, "you're so gross right now, of course you've gotta shower."

vi hiccups into her fist before shooting you a sheepish grin.

"i could just shower at home."

you narrow your eyes, "it's 5am -- and i'm pretty sure powder's got a massive midterm tomorrow. you're staying here tonight."

"ah. yes. of... course," vi says, biting back an amused chuckle before looking around at the couch beneath her.

"well, i've always liked this couch."

you close the first-aid kit with a sharp snap.

"if you shower within the next --" you glance back at the clock on the microwave, "10 minutes or so, you can sleep in the bedroom. but if i'm asleep when you're done then you're gonna have to sleep out here -- i don't like being woken up." you try to sound stern, though it might have just come out sounding petulant.

vi grins, the expression so familiar to you it singes a line of heat down the center of your spine.

"oop -- guess i'd better shower quick then!" she pushes off the sofa and jogs for the bathroom, swiveling around by the door to give you a soft smile and a -- "hey... thanks."

you roll your eyes at her and flap your hand, "go. shower!"

you slip into bed, listening to the shower water run, a twist of something collecting in your gut as you hear the sounds of the water turn off and the unmistakable noises of vi toweling off. you burrow further into your blankets as her footsteps thump through the apartment, the slight creak of your bedroom door swinging open as she slips in, the shape of her limned in moonlight as she slowly makes her way to the other side of the bed.

"hey sugar... you still awake?"

you crinkle your nose, and for a second, consider feigning sleep. but the next second, she's slipping into the blankets next to you, her skin warm to the touch as she shuffles closer.

"yeah," you answer, a second later.

she shuffles just a bit closer; you flip around to face her, gasping as you realize how close she is -- your noses almost touching. her eyes widen as they meet yours, and you could swear that even in the pre-dawn dark, you can see her cheeks rioting with color.

she clears her throat but doesn't make to pull away.

"y'know, usually when i get invited into someone's bed... it's a lot sexier than this."

you puff out a breathy laugh, "yeah? i'm sure. why don't you tell me about it tomorrow, when we're compiling all the scholarships that we're gonna help powder apply to?"

vi falls quiet, her gaze going startlingly liquid, and for a second, you wonder if she's going to cry too. but then, she's leaning in, pressing her forehead to yours --

"god... sweets... what the fuck did i do to deserve you?"

you snuggle in closer, your heartbeat a livewire thrum at the back of your throat.

"nothing... you were just... you."

vi lets out a shaky breath, her eyes falling shut.

"shit, sugar... what the hell, man... it wasn't supposed to be like this."

you laugh as she sniffles, tugging you closer, her palm warm along your waist, her fingers pressing into your skin.

"yeah? did you have it all planned out? help the new girl move in? watch movies and make food with her on the weekends till she falls in love with you?"

vi's breath hitches. you bite your tongue.

still, she doesn't refute you. finally, she manages --

"i just... never thought it'd... get this bad..."

you sigh, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

"y'know, for a smart girl, you're really dumb sometimes."

vi pulls back, sighing, "yeah... i -- i know. and i know that powder and vander probably know too -- they just -- they just... knew me too well to try and --"

"force it out of you?" you supply. vi nods, her hair tickling your skin as she burrow in against you, her body curling in till she's in a fetal position, her face pressed into your chest, her breath fanning hot against your collarbones.

"well, lucky for me --" you say, reaching up to run a hand through her hair, caressing at the still-damp ends, "i didn't have to -- you came knocking all on your own."

vi's quiet for another few beats before --

"i wasn't lying y'know... i really did... miss you." her voice catches, the words cracking over one another like river stones.

you graze your lips along her hairline, nodding, "yeah, i know... i missed you too, vi."

she wraps her arms around you and pulls you in, pressing you to her so completely your chest almost starts to sting with the pressure.

a few minutes later, she relents, releasing you just enough for you to suck in a long, steadying breath.

"did you really mean it? that thing about... the scholarships for powder?"

you nod, "course i did. and we can look up loans too! i had to take one out when i went to college too, so i'm pretty familiar with them. it's alright -- we'll figure it out -- together."

vi nods, chuckling softly against you.

"mm... before all that though..." she tugs back just far enough to look at you, her voice husky as she leans in to brush her nose to yours --

"d'you think... you might allow me the honor of making you breakfast?"

[gay-dorito-dust]

Jason had become aware of a habit you always did without fail, which was the habit of you shifting over to him to rest your forehead against his shoulder.

Sad? You rest your head on his shoulder.

Tired? Still you shuffle over to him with whether energy you had left in your aching body to rest your forehead on his shoulder.

Sleepy? Same thing as the previous two Instances, your head always ends up on his shoulder regardless as though it was calling to you in a pitch that he couldn’t hear nor comprehend.

Yet he wasn’t one to complain about it as having you find him as a source of comfort was enough to have him wanting your head on his shoulder more often, impatiently waiting for when you’d need to lean on him for respite and comfort form the failures that the day brought. He once hated the idea of being relied upon, but now he wished it more then anything, especially when it came to you as it serves as a reminder that desire how people may see him you would always come to him; for you felt safest in the presence of a man whom many thought would’ve lost it by now.

So when Jason heard you sigh your exhaustion, he had already set his book aside and was already on his feet to meet you halfway, smiling softly when you’ve seen him and began to shuffle towards him until your head was firmly pressed against his shoulder like you’ve done multiple times before.

‘Long day chipmunk?’ He asks softly.

You only hum your answer as your arms lazily move to his waist, loose enough for him to break away from you but firm enough at the same time. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, having felt you’ve already done enough of that for an entire week, and felt that the amount of effort in doing so wasn’t worth exhausting yourself anymore then you’ve already done.

‘What do you need sweetheart, tell me.’ Jason says as he feels you poking his chest, nuzzling your head further into his shoulder in the way he found the most adorable way possible. ‘Me? You need me?’ He says with a small chuckle but when he feels you poke his chest once more and your grunts of agreement did he bring you into a warm embrace, strong arms crossing over your back and swaddling you in waves of warmth and comfort as you felt sleep start to take effect on you.

‘You’ve got me sweetheart, I’m right here it’s okay.’ Jason’s whispered against your head as he peppers kisses whether he could, feeling you lean further within his embrace, feeling your breathing even out as he continues to softly encourage you to take a rest. You only grunted again, this only a little more sluggish and delayed from how quickly you were succumbing to a light slumber within the arms of your Jason, your sweet Jason who was more teddy bear then man most days, not that you were complaining in the slightest.

For that was just the effect he had on you and he knew this better than anyone as he gently eased you both onto the couch, where Jason would cuddle and swaddle you in his arms for hours on end, never once uttering a single sound of discontent; loving the fact that you found comfort and peace within his scar littered body and calloused hands, an instrument of destruction was now being used as a way of comfort and healing without words being necessary.

and for once Jason didn’t mind, not one bit.

[luludeluluramblings]

SugarBaby!Neglected!BatSib!Reader x Tony Stark - Part Two

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I started this while inspired by Pregnant!Reader. But, it’s just fluff and possible comfort. I had the dialogue written for the past few months, but just got around to finishing it. I’m worried I’m both rusty and still amateurish. 🙃 Sorry if this ain’t what y’all had in mind!

Previous Reader x Tony Stark

Warnings: Fluffy, wholesome, unplanned pregnancy, GN!Reader (or at least attempted), bedroom activities mentioned.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You had taken multiple test. Multiple. Gone to at least two private doctors. You even had Jarvis do a full body scan before telling him not to tell Tony.

You needed to be the one to do it.

So in proper fashion, you decided to tell him as soon as possible. Before anything else blew up or there was some Alien robot monkey attack.

It just happened to be on movie night.

“Tony, love. My dearest husband.” You start as you walk into you fancy penthouse kitchen, holding the box filled with multiple test in your arms since you know the man will need all the proof he can get his hands on.

“Oh no, I don’t like that tone. That is not good not good tone at all. Nope. I don’t want to hear any bad news on Star Wars night.” Already he can catch on that something is up as he personally mixes a few drinks for you both while reading some research articles for one of his projects like multitasker he is.

“It might be good news.” You sheepishly say as you set the box on the counter and move to wrap your arms around his waist.

“Not with that tone.” He snorts out as he starts to make your favorite drink, only for you to lightly touch his arm to stop him.

“Alright, it’s just news.” You murmur into his back, a bit more serious.

Tony can feel the shift happening. Picking up on one of the social cues that something was going on. He put down the bottles and turned off his glasses, setting them on the counter.

“It’s bothering you isn’t it?” He asked, catching on as he spun in your arms and wrapped his own arms around you.

“Yep.” You look up at him, resting your chin against his chest and taking a moment to breathe him in.

“Is it good news?”

“Just… brace yourself.” You give him a pleading look, trying to think of the best way to say it.

“Oh boy.” He gives a playful wince as he tries to alleviate the tension he feels under your shoulder blades.

“So, the barebacking kinda bit us in the ass.” Probably wasn’t the best way to say it, but you thought he would get it.

“What?”

Apparently you were wrong. Modern lingo was a flop.

“The barebacking kinda bit us in the —“ You try again, awkwardly.

“No. I mean, sweetheart, you’re gonna have to explain—“ Confusion and playful annoyance washing over him. You always liked to use modern slang and memes on him to be funny. But, it wasn’t translating well until you finally blurted it out.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, shit! Are you sure it’s mine?” Was the first thing he blurts out as it sinks into him.

“Tony!” You admonished him, giving him a glare as you looked up at him.

“Sorry, habit! Sorry! Just… What do you want to do about it?“ He pulls away, and it stings. But, you know he’s just trying to cope with the information.

“I— I don’t know… What do you want to do about it?” You echo the same sentiments, just as lost as him in that moment.

“I— I’m not good with babies, or toddlers, or kids, or pre-teens — Hell, I’m not good with people in general.” Hearing him say that makes you soften. You knew his insecurities. You shared some of them yourself. And, seeing him like this made something in you shift from uncertainty to acceptance.

“Tony…” You tried to get his attention, but he continued to spiral like a falling plane.

“And- And, I have daddy issues, with minor mommy issues. On top of all other sorts of issues.” Mayday. Mayday.

“Tony.” You try to be a bit firmer.

“I overwork. I’m an ass— you said that just last night too.” You almost want to laugh at how animated he’s being. Pacing back and forth, using his fingers to count out each and every little or large reason.

“Tony.” However, you do find yourself growing exasperated at his spiraling.

“Hang on, I’m trying to make a point here. Anyway, I’d be a—“

“Good dad.” You interrupt. Saying it all confident and nonchalant. Like he did the day he said he loved you.

You can tell it stuns him. Which is rare. It only last for a second before he starts to try to spiral again.

“Babe—“

“No. I’m serious. You’d be a good one.” You verbally take the helm. Something you rarely did in your relationship.

“Just because you call me daddy in bed— Actually that might have tempted fate here. Do you think Thor or one his divine buddies had something to do with this?” Humor. His favorite way of coping. But, it’s a decent sign. It means he is actually processing this. So you add your own comment.

“Pretty sure it was you busting a nut in—“

“Hey, knock it off or we’ll end up defiling the counters again.”

You do laugh at that. It’s how you both have learned to ease into things. The hard topics are easier to digest with a bit of laughter and time.

“Tony.” His name is softer as you reach for him.

“Sweetheart.” He almost teasingly says, but his voice it a little raw. However, he doesn’t pull away. A good sign. A great sign.

But, you know it’s not all over yet. There’s still more to say and Tony is as jumpy as a jack rabbit when it comes to his feelings.

“Tony, you’d be a great dad.” You whisper gently.

It’s easy to tell it’s gotten through by he goes completely still. You can barely even see him breathe. Another one of his tells you’ve learned since loving him.

“How do you know?” He asks. His voice doesn’t break. But, it’s fractured. There’s cracks in it, but it doesn’t fall apart.

“Because you would actually try.” You start to say. Tony rarely accepted praise despite his ego. So you had a limited opportunity to work with this and only your relationship to back it up.

“We both a millions of issues between the two of us. Hell, we could probably be a case study for a couple of psychologists. But, I want to give a part of you and a part of me something we didn’t have.”

And, that’s the conclusion you’ve come to when remembering your time in the manor. Growing up never being good enough for Bruce. Watching your father pick everyone in a city you didn’t know over you again and again. Watching your siblings do the same. How they had their exclusive club that you were never allowed yo be apart of.

A feeling of inadequacy that you developed even after you told yourself over and over again that it was fine.

You felt your resolve start to form. As if all those childish things that weighed you down were insignificant in making this decision.

“I’m not going to do this without you though. If you want to do this I’m all for it. If don’t think you can I’m still going to love you, regardless.” Even if you felt yourself come around to it, you knew it would take time for Tony too.

He wasn’t going to leave you. You knew that. You had learned that. Maybe from the way he had firmly told you that you were stuck with him forever and he’d crawl back to you no matter what.

You’re pretty sure he had been quoting a movie or something because you had laughed at how ridiculous he sounded. But, that look in his eyes made you realize he was completely serious about what he meant.

A long moment of silence washes over you. You can tell he’s uncomfortable by it even though you aren’t. You don’t rush him though. Giving him the chance to crack another joke and move on like nothing happened. Or, to find the words he wants to say.

“I think… I want to do this. I don’t know. You’re giving me those mushy feelings again. The ones that make me want to cry.” A smile breaks out on your face as you rest your chin on his chest to look up at him.

It’s not a no. It’s not a yes. Hell, it’s not even a maybe. It’s just an idea. But, Tony is great with ideas. You’ll probably have to deal with him locking himself in his workshop for a week. However, you’ll be waiting outside for him ready to hear anything has to say.

“Want to bone me against the window and possibly cause a small public scandal, then ignore the PR team while we watch Star Wars? You know, to help cope with the mushy feelings?” You offer with a wiggle of your eyebrows and a mischievous grin. One that earns you a relieved smile and a kiss in return.

“God, I love you.” Is all he says before he takes you up on that exact offer. The kisses growing more heated as a trail of clothes begins to form towards the window of the penthouse.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I didn’t expect people to like my previous Tony work at all. It was just a brain worm that I pulled out and splattered on my keyboard. So, I applied the same method here, but with a bit more finesse. I think.

A/N: This is basically a prequel. Before the Batfam finds out and goes Yandere for SugarBaby!Reader.

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Can you do a Carlos dad were lando swears around his kid and now she won’t stop repeating it and he is trying to get her to stop but Carlos finds out (toddler daughter) if possible

Little Parrot

Carlos loved nothing more than being a father. From the moment Yn was born, he had promised himself that she would always know she was loved, always feel safe, and always be happy. And, of course, he had made it his mission to teach her Spanish so they could have their own secret conversations.

It had started as a joke between him and Rebecca—she had been determined to learn Spanish, but Carlos had made it harder by talking faster and using slang. In the meantime, he whispered little words to their baby girl at night, spoke to her in Spanish every morning, and now, at four years old, Yn was perfectly bilingual.

It was something he took great pride in, especially when Lando—her ever-dedicated godfather—tried (and often failed) to understand their conversations.

Lando had always adored Yn. He was there the day she was born, had cried when he held her for the first time, and spoiled her beyond reason. He tried his hardest to pick up Spanish, just so he wouldn’t be left out when Carlos and Yn had their little chats. But his progress was... questionable.

And now, as the paddock buzzed with activity before a race weekend, Lando had a new mission—one that involved a lot of pleading.

"Come on, just for a few hours!" Lando begged, his hands clasped together as he followed Carlos through the Williams hospitality.

Carlos sighed, adjusting the little pink backpack slung over his shoulder. Yn had demanded she bring her favorite stuffed bunny, a coloring book, and snacks for the day, and he, being the soft-hearted father he was, had agreed.

"Lando, I don’t know," Carlos said, casting a glance at his daughter, who was currently sitting on a chair, happily eating some fruit while kicking her feet.

"Please, please, please," Lando whined. "I swear I’ll take good care of her! She loves me! Right, Yn?"

Yn perked up at the sound of her name and turned to look at Lando with a big smile. "Sí!"

"See!" Lando grinned triumphantly. "She wants to stay with me."

Carlos narrowed his eyes. "You say that now, but last time you almost lost her in the McLaren garage."

"It was one time!" Lando argued. "And she wasn’t lost, she was just—exploring."

Carlos raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, fine. She wandered off a little," Lando admitted sheepishly. "But I promise, this time, I’ll watch her like a hawk. She won’t leave my side!"

Yn looked between them curiously before tilting her head at her father. "Papá, por favor?" she asked sweetly, blinking her big brown eyes up at him.

Carlos groaned. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"Fine," he relented. "But—" he pointed a firm finger at Lando, "—if anything happens, it’s your fault. And I will make you regret it."

Lando beamed, scooping Yn up in his arms. "Deal!"

Yn giggled as he spun her around, and Carlos exhaled, already wondering if he had made a mistake.

Lando was determined to be the best godfather in the world today.

"Alright, Mini," he said as he set Yn down gently on a chair. "We are gonna have so much fun today."

Yn nodded eagerly, swinging her legs as she held her stuffed bunny close. "What are we doing?"

"First, we have very important jobs," Lando said, crouching down to her level. "We have to inspect my car. Make sure it's all good for the race."

Yn's eyes widened with excitement. "Really?"

"Yep! And since you're my assistant today, that means you get a headset, too!"

Yn gasped. "Like you?"

"Exactly like me."

A few minutes later, Yn was sitting on Lando’s lap in the garage, wearing an oversized headset as she watched the engineers work. She looked absolutely serious, as if she really was his assistant, nodding along as he explained things in the simplest way possible.

"And this is my steering wheel," Lando said, holding it up for her. "It has so many buttons. Want to press one?"

Yn gasped. "Can I?"

"Yeah, but not the important ones," Lando said, pointing at a harmless button. "Try this one."

Yn pressed it with a determined look, and the lights on the steering wheel flickered. She clapped her hands in delight.

"You're a natural!" Lando grinned, ruffling her hair.

For a while, things were going perfectly. Yn was entertained, happy, and sticking to Lando like glue.

Then he messed up.

It happened when he was helping her climb up onto a higher chair. He wasn’t paying attention, knocked his knee against the table, and immediately hissed, "Fuck!"

There was a beat of silence.

Yn blinked up at him. "Fuck," she repeated.

Lando froze.

Oh no.

Oh no no no no.

"Um, no, no, no, we don’t say that," he said quickly, shaking his head.

Yn tilted her head. "But you said it."

"I—I didn’t mean to!" Lando panicked. "It’s a bad word."

Yn nodded seriously. "Fuck is bad word."

"Yes, exactly!"

"Fuck," Yn repeated, nodding like she was learning something important.

Lando slapped a hand over his face. "Oh, shit."

"Shit," Yn said immediately.

Lando nearly choked. "No, no, no, stop!"

But it was too late.

Yn found it hilarious. She giggled, kicking her feet, and started chanting, "Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Shit!"

Lando was screwed.

"Lando," Carlos’ voice cut through the air, dangerously calm.

Lando froze. Slowly, he turned, still holding Yn, who was currently humming to herself.

Carlos stood with his arms crossed, looking unimpressed. "Why is my daughter running around saying fuck and shit?"

Lando gulped. "Uh—"

"Fuck!" Yn chirped happily. "Shit!"

Lando shut his eyes. He was so dead.

Carlos pinched the bridge of his nose. "Lando."

"It was an accident!" Lando blurted. "I swear! I hit my knee, and I didn’t mean to say it, and then she memorized it like a little parrot, and I’ve been trying to get her to stop!"

Carlos sighed, rubbing his face. "Do you know what Rebecca will do if she hears her saying that?"

Lando’s eyes widened in horror. "We can’t let her find out!"

Carlos shook his head, but there was amusement in his eyes now. He turned to his daughter, kneeling in front of her.

"Yn, mi amor," he said gently, "those are bad words, okay? We don’t say them."

Yn pouted. "But Lando says them."

"Lando is dumb," Carlos said, sending a glare his way. "You’re much smarter than him, aren’t you?"

Yn giggled. "Sí!"

Carlos smiled. "Good. So, let’s not say those words anymore, okay?"

Yn nodded, then leaned in to whisper, "But they’re kinda funny."

Carlos sighed.

Lando snorted.

Carlos shot him a look. "Not helping."

Lando held his hands up in surrender. "Look, she’s gonna hear worse when she’s older."

"Not today, she won’t," Carlos muttered. He turned back to his daughter, who was already distracted playing with her bunny.

"Alright, no más palabrotas," Carlos said firmly. ("No more swear words")

Yn giggled. "No más palabrotas."

Carlos kissed the top of her head before glaring at Lando one last time.

"You," he said, pointing at him, "are never babysitting again."

Lando gasped. "That’s not fair!"

Carlos smirked. "Jódete." ("Fuck you")

Lando groaned.

Yn, despite her father’s warning, giggled under her breath. "Jódete"

Carlos sighed.

It was going to be a long day.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🩷🎀

[oceanicwriting]

are you that needy?

summary: were you and your boyfriends are in a road trip for a couple of days and you can't resist, after so long without his touch, the urge to feel him deep inside you.

pairing(s): theodore nott x fem!reader

a/n: college is killing me! i'm just starting the third week, and i have eight readings to finish. thanks god i'm not writing essays yet...... anyways, i hope you enjoy this short one xoxo.

+18 smut, reverse cowgirl, masturbation (mostly f!receiving), cursing, public sex (?)

it's been two weeks since you and your boyfriend, theodore, set out on a road trip. so far, you've visited five different places, stopping only to sleep cramped in the back of his parents' truck or to set up a tent when you're deep in the woods. you've had an amazing time, but for the past two days, you haven't been able to stop thinking about his body. you could only blame it on the manly way he chopped the logs for the fire or the make-out session that ended too soon, thanks to the ranger's interruption.

ㅤㅤㅤ —can you pass me the matches? —he asks, arranging the firewood.

ㅤㅤㅤ you nod, getting up from your makeshift wooden seat and searching for what he asked for in his backpack. you can't help but notice the narrowness of his back under the tight t-shirt, much less the way the muscles in his arm twitch as he accepts the small box. you were losing your mind.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you're a little quiet today.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore had managed to start the fire, letting the flames illuminate the darkness that had yet to reach its peak. you had only recently emerged from the lake water, and you could still see his damp hair falling in disarray.

ㅤㅤㅤ —nothing to say. i'm having a great time.

ㅤㅤㅤ he sits down next to you, placing a soft kiss on your head and staring into the fire.

ㅤㅤㅤ —theo... —he makes a sound that indicates he's listening—. no, nothing. forget it.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore turns to look at you, your eyes falling hopelessly on his parted lips, dampened by the water he's drinking from the aluminum cup. embarrassment, for some reason, tickles your insides and forces you to look away. of course, he wouldn't let that go.

ㅤㅤㅤ —do you want me to kiss you? —he asks, amid a laugh that does nothing but annoy you a little—. you just had to say it.

ㅤㅤㅤ you laugh ironically.

ㅤㅤㅤ —fuck off.

ㅤㅤㅤ you get up from your spot on the log. however, theodore's hand reaches you before you can move far enough, forcing you to sit on his lap. you mutter a couple of profanities, struggling against his grip on your waist.

ㅤㅤㅤ —so cute.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore's hand reaches for your jaw, squeezing it and guiding your face toward his. his lips, soft and expert, caress yours without a hint of delicacy. the contact ignites a flame that had been burning weakly in the center of your body, and you don't resist; in fact, you accept the kiss with the same ferocity. both of your bodies move from side to side in the desire to dominate the situation, clicking at the exchange of saliva and growling at each other's reckless audacity.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore manages to arrange you on the blanket you'd left on the floor after getting out the water. you could still feel traces of moisture hitting your hands as you lean against it, but you don't say anything. between a couple more kisses, theodore manages to remove his jacket, and he stops before doing anything else.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what's wrong?

ㅤㅤㅤ a smile spreads across his face, looking like an angel from hell with the fire burning at his side.

ㅤㅤㅤ —nothing, baby. are you that needy?

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at him, confused, but theodore doesn't respond and attacks your mouth again. his hands move all over your body, slipping inside your clothes and laughing at the flinch it produces in you. your own hands have found a way to tangle in his clothes, baring his chest and whimpering when one of his legs slips between yours to press against your sensitive area.

ㅤㅤㅤ it's just a matter of time before he finds you half-dressed, wearing only your underwear and theodore's cute hands as a bra. he's in the same position, covering his hard cock with the soft fabric of his underwear and kissing your body everywhere he can. in a moment, he rolls onto his back, placing your weight on top of him, strangling his member against your wet pussy.

ㅤㅤㅤ —turn over, —he whispers, leaving you stunned—. come on, turn over.

ㅤㅤㅤ you do, sitting with your back to him and gently rubbing yourself against his hardened cock. oh, how you needed him to get going. he runs his hands down your waist, slowly moving up to your breasts. how he loved squeezing, pinching, and massaging your tits, almost as if they were his own stress toys. his chest hits your back, making you shudder even more at the resounding kiss he places on your neck.

ㅤㅤㅤ —shit, i could devour you right now.

ㅤㅤㅤ —d-do it, please. do it. —he digs his teeth into your skin, gently biting into a few pieces of your flesh—. ah, theo...

ㅤㅤㅤ your hands search for a way to free theodore's cock, while his free hand descends to your panties, pushing them aside.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i need you to raise yourself a little, —he whispers against your ear—. that's right. now you do it.

ㅤㅤㅤ you spit into your hand and hurry to grab his cock, guiding it to your entrance. you only jerk him off a few times to make sure he's wet enough to slide inside you in one go. you settle in, theodore kissing your back and playing with your left breast. then, you begin to take him, slow and steady. the mere sensation of his length brushing against your walls makes you moan like crazy.

ㅤㅤㅤ —come on, love, just a little more.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore helps hold you up, lowering slowly between muffled whimpers and excited sighs. then, when he's fully inside you, a feeling of instant satisfaction courses through you. theodore urges you to move, pushing against you, as if he could be deeper than he already is.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you're already s-so deep... —you moan, bracing your hands on his thighs to maintain your composure—. and yet i need more.

ㅤㅤㅤ that seems to turn theodore on even more because he licks your earlobe and forces you to turn your face to capture his lips. soon after, you begin to move, moving up and down, in circles, slowly and fast. theodore hasn't stopped kissing your back, licking and chewing on the portions of your skin he can reach. every now and then, he gently thrusts upward, slamming into your center and deepening his penetration.

ㅤㅤㅤ —so d-deep. and s-so good, —you moan, no longer feeling theodore's back against yours—. t-theo?

ㅤㅤㅤ —just keep moving like that, —he commands, taking your hips and helping you increase the pace—. i wish you could see this. your pussy taking my cock so deliciously. it's so perfect.

ㅤㅤㅤ your muscles react to his voice, husky and full of seduction. theodore knew how much you got off hearing him talk during sex, but he rarely succumbed to it because he loved hearing you moan and whimper much more.

ㅤㅤㅤ —taking it all so easy. isn't it embarrassing? —theodore thrusts his pelvis, slamming into a spot so deep inside you that you smother a cry—. just let it out. i want to hear it over my voice.

ㅤㅤㅤ he does the same movement again, this time releasing a scream that turns both of you on to a level higher than heaven. your movement is maintained with the help of theodore, who squeezes your hips every time he slams into you again. he's so good that your whole body trembles at the violent shocks of his sex against yours.

ㅤㅤㅤ suddenly, one of theodore's hands travels up your thigh, and the other stops holding you, leaving you to move on your own. then, you feel his soft moans crash against your back and his hand finds a way to press against your clit, stealing a high-pitched moan from you that makes him grunt softly for some reason. his fingers have no trouble finding that erect spot on your body, much less massaging it with your body moving up and down at an almost inhuman pace.

ㅤㅤㅤ —fuck, you're doing so good. am i doing this r-right? tell me if i'm doing this right, love.

ㅤㅤㅤ the way his warm air hits your back drives you wild, and it's impossible to form any words as all the stimulation in your body begins to build toward an orgasm.

ㅤㅤㅤ —are you enjoying it? of course you are. you wouldn't moan like that if you weren't enjoying it. come on, just a little longer. —you shake your head, your whole body unable to keep up—. yes, l-love. just keep going like that a little longer. i can feel you squeezing my cock... and i'm so damn close.

ㅤㅤㅤ you do your best with your last few strokes, taking theodore's member a few last times and trembling as all your sensations unleash in a shaky cry. theodore isn't far behind, exploding a second later and leaving your insides with a soft pop.

ㅤㅤㅤ —so full of me now, —he mumbles, forcing you to turn around on his lap—. are you okay?

ㅤㅤㅤ you nod, still feeling your body gasping for air.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you look so pretty.

ㅤㅤㅤ one of theodore's hands reaches for your face, and even though the night has reached them with a bit more wind, the warmth of the fire keeps them at the perfect temperature. or is the caress, though tender, violent and full of desire?

ㅤㅤㅤ —so precious.

ㅤㅤㅤ your body reacts automatically, rubbing yourself against his cock, which slowly reawakens. it's almost magical how easily he regains his energy.

ㅤㅤㅤ—and it seems to me we're not done yet.

[calebrity]

BREADWINNER┃sylus

cw. smut, boxer! sylus, literally purely nsfw, sylus is down bad but just a teensy bit mean here, below 1k words, fem reader, 18+ characters

this isn’t the best idea, he knows.

fucking you, he means. it’s not wise, it’s certainly not conducive to his upcoming match’s success (set to commence in the next half hour)— hell, it’s not even sanitary, not really. there’s something distinctly filthy about this all when sylus crams you against the shower wall, the rather grimy one his dressing room has to offer, and hoists you up to rut into you deeper as you cry.

you don’t want anyone to hear. his team, or more notably his coach- waiting outside the door and pacing as he readies his number one fighter’s gloves and gear.

sylus does.

there’s a whole stadium full of people waiting with barely-contained excitement just down the hall where the back area opens up to the seemingly boundless ring. he knows it’s all for naught but fuck he hopes they hear as he pounds into your poor cunt senselessly and makes a vow in your ear, saying, i’ll win it for you.

you’d admire his dedication if you were a little more lucid, but right now, the better part of your rationale has faded.

he feels good. so good. you can’t even be mad at him for going against his coach’s advice, being warned off intimacy before a match because it’ll sap him of his strength- his physical vigor- completely. there’s no room for frustration when you’re damn near certain his cockhead is rearranging your guts as you hold onto him for dear life, when he bites into your neck- not to a painful degree, but just to leave a pretty mark, proof you’re his- and moans.

he tuts when you whimper. bastard. but to his credit, and sometimes to your displeasure, his cocksure attitude is grounded: he wins all his battles. he has every right to brag, but that doesn’t mean that sometimes you won’t get fed up with his bravado and try to knock him down a peg… you think it’s good for him; you’re like his tether to planet earth as he makes a small empire off the boxing industry.

(albeit, he seems less interested in that and more so in impressing you with its wages.)

“nawh. what’s wrong, sweetie?” he asks, honey-sweet, tone deceptively cloying for the wicked, self-satisfied glint in his eye. and you make a silent swear right then and there that you’ll get him back for this later. (but not now. he feels delicious inside you and you can hardly swat his hands away as they grasp your hips to anchor you as he bullies his way in.)

“if i’m not mistaken, you were telling me just moments ago how we shouldn’t do this, how bad of an idea it is that i… touch you.” he breathes, playful.

maybe he’s being a little meaner now, okay, he’ll grant that much, but he hopes you know that adrenaline’s already coursing through him, that he can’t help the testosterone that spikes in his veins preceding a fight. it’s hard to not act on it. coach’s words be damned- sylus feels more hyped up, thrilled, than anything when he’s fucking you within an inch of your life in his temporary room’s bathroom. certainly not tired, or drained, or any other thing he sagely warned him about, painting sex before a match like it was anathema in itself, a ticket to a sure loss.

oh, okay, that’s great and all, but sylus doesn’t lose.

you manage a pout between gasping, delighted breaths. “you-! i- i hope you lose!”

pearly teeth flash at you, spotting your lie easily. his broad, muscled chest rumbles with a deep chuckle, the bass of it making your legs all the more weak where they wrap around his hips. “ouch, kitten, you’re hurting my feelings now. if i don’t have your support during the match,… then what’s the point in it?” he quips back, lighthearted, though you can tell he means what he’s saying.

that bold grin of his falters when he hits particularly deep and you clench around him, nails digging into his traps. he slants into you more, if that’s possible, bowing his head in the sweaty juncture of your neck and collar.

“y-you’re lucky i even go to your stupid matches,” you mewl back, brows furrowed with all the indignity you can possibly muster.

he gives a low hum, voice strained, words meaningful beneath all the layers of want and hunger. “i am lucky,” he pants. “and you’ll watch me again tonight, hm?” he plants a doting kiss to your clavicle, oddly tender for the moment, peering up at you with ruby eyes aflame.

“when i bring that belt home for you?”

[m-jelly]

Hear me out — sex with postwar, chubby husband Levi. Riding and loving that man for all his worth because he was feeling insecure after someone made a comment to him.

(Also maybe punching said person who insulted him)

Your lap

Levi x fem reader

Post-war Levi, married, romance, smut, comforting Levi.

Soft pleasure-filled panting filled the room, it'd been going on for a while now but that was normal when the two of you made love. Levi had a lot of stamina and you had a lot of love to give him. The bed creaked a little as you shifted on top of your husband.

Levi's heart raced as sweat trickled down your naked forms. Sensitive skin rubbed against each other as the pleasure increased. Levi's heart and mind were a mess, only an hour ago you'd slapped a man so hard for talking down about him for his injuries and needing a chair to move around a lot of the time. You'd defended him, declared your love for him and wanted to fight more but he'd stopped you.

When you both got home, you pounced on him and ended up in bed together. He had mentioned a few negative things about himself and here you were sitting on his lap, his thick erection buried deep inside you as you showered his face with kisses. All Levi could do was hold onto you.

Levi moaned your name, desperate for attention. He blushed when you gazed deep into his eyes and kissed him. His fingers tangled in your hair as he grabbed your behind. He growled when he felt your desire leaking from you and running all over his fingers and legs.

You grabbed the headboard and panted as you sat on his cock, your eyes locked with him. Feeling Levi's raw cock deep inside you always set your body blazing. You smirked at him before bouncing up and down on him, his penis dragging out and plunging in deep. He fitted you so perfectly. You enjoyed how thick he was and the way he stretched you, he rubbed every inch he needed to and went the perfect depth inside you.

Levi gripped you harder and began pumping up into you as best as he could with his bag leg. His once-defined muscles were slightly hidden under a layer of soft plump skin. He was still strong, but with his disability, he couldn't work out like he did before. You loved everything about him, before and after what happened to him.

You pulled your husband's face against your breasts, they were a comfort to him but also arousing. You cried out when he bit you. "Careful."

He looked up at you, his hair becoming messy. "You're so tasty." He sucked on the side of your breast. "I want them all the time."

You shivered at his words. "Levi, you charmer."

He licked and sucked a bit more. "I need to feel you cum again." He reached down and moved his fingers against your clit. "So pretty."

You moaned at his touch. "Le-Levi, I'm s-supposed to be l-loving you."

He sat back and watched you move up and down, plump breasts bouncing and a wonderful view of his wet cock being taken into your soaking pussy over and over. "This is loving me. Seeing you in pleasure because of me. I never thought I could make someone feel good." He moaned when you clenched him tightly. "F-Fuck, look at you."

You reached up and gripped your breasts. "This what you like?"

Levi groaned. "Y-Yes." He moved his hand a little and rubbed your clit a little faster. "Treat me to seeing you cum. Please? I want to see it. Please, please give it to me. I'll be good if you do. I'll be a good boy."

Hearing your incredible and strong husband, the Captain Levi, begging you to cum for him set a fire through you. You pinched your nipples, rolled your hips on his cock and felt your coil tighten so hard you were ready to break.

Levi called your name. "Look at me. Please, fuck please look at me when you do. I want to see it. Please."

You locked eyes with Levi as your coil tightened until you felt the snap. You cried out in pleasure as your third orgasm of the night rushed through you. You kept looking at your husband to see his cheeks flush as he watched you.

Levi's eyes searched your pretty face before looking down at your pussy wrapped around his cock as he felt it pulse over and over. He looked back up to your face as you moaned his name and panted. Seeing you like this, this beautiful sexy goddess made him lose control.

He gripped your hips, pulled you down on him so his cock was as deep as it could possibly go. He moaned your name as he came hard and filled you with a big hot load. He hummed as he gripped your hips tighter when you shifted on him.

Levi locked eyes with you as he said your name. "Don't move. Stay there. I want to make sure all of it is deep inside you."

Your heart raced as a flutter went through you. You flopped against Levi's and whined. "That was naughty, saying sexy things like that."

Levi rubbed your back as he hummed a laugh. "I want to keep surprising you. Speaking of, you brat, punching a man?"

You traced patterns on his chest. "He said mean things about the love of my life. You're so sexy and handsome. I know I'm not supposed to listen to others, but it annoyed me." You kissed and nipped his neck. "You're my sexy husband. I love you more than anything." You sat up and cupped his face. "You're perfect."

He blushed in your hands. "Mm...you're perfect too. I don't deserve you, but I am blessed to have you." He smiled softly. "I love you. I deeply love you."

You ran your hands down his chest. "Levi?"

"Mm?"

"Am I crazy to think that you still being inside me is so arousing?"

Levi's cheeks were bright red. "A-ah...tch...you...you're not. I like it. you know I like it because we've done it a few times." He massaged your back. "I want to do it more."

You moaned. "Your cock just twitched."

He grunted. "You have no shame, do you?"

"No, I just want to love you so much. I can't hold back with you."

He carefully moved on the bed, lay you on your back and leaned over you. "This time, I want to be on top."

You purred at him. "Yes, Levi. Please be careful though, don't hurt your leg."

"I told you, I'll be a good boy."

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @dreamerofthewest @abiatackerman @minminroie

[gordonengineswifenirmal]

This could be applied to soooo much. People act like kids don’t have free will n the content attracts them n ruins their ohhh so innocent souls.

I remember kids being more innocent up until like 7 or 8. Around the time curiousity starts to cause them to explore their world more. I remember mum n dad not wanting me to watch beavis n butthead. So, what did u do? Purposely tried to watch beavis n butthead. Usually succeeded. This is an age when the curiosity, causes them to start pushing boundaries. Responsible parents can respond in a way that encourages honesty and safety. However, this process is natural, and shielding a child from every single trigger can actual harm them. The key is setting healthy boundaries.

My mum taught me about the birds and bees. She was very honest about how painful it could be. She was honest in saying she wanted to have a daughter, but it’s often the pain closest to death. Knowing how much I hate pain, I was like nope. She didn’t glorify it, n was quite ok with me not having children. She allowed me to explore that decision without pressure. She was faaarrrr from perfect, but she granted me that.

Kids are impressionable. The more it’s glorified, they’ll be more curious about it. And to be honest, peer pressure plays an important role. A child’s peers will judge them, and force them into the ‘jumping off the bridge mentality’.

If anything, kids often feel they have more of a voice online. People listen to them more than they do in real life. They r probably used to being dismissed more. Unfortunately, this also allows them to be exposed to more peers, often other impressionable people - or those who will manipulate them for their own desires.

This is why you see so many people blindly agree to things, especially when compelled by peer pressure. This should be the real concern. The problem is that curbing peer pressure is an immense challenge.

Kids on their own may or may not feel a certain way about media. They might like it, or they might not. However, when peers influence them - when peers pressure them, especially by bullying, gaslighting (in this case, it’s often about trying to make them feel bad, or unworthy for what they believe. They are less influenced by the media itself, and more about others reactions to it.

If a kid likes an outfit or article of clothing, and their peers don’t, they are more likely to give in, because they don’t want their peers to think badly of them or chastise them. This carries on into adulthood. This is a major issue with society, and why people are so obsessed with getting Botox, plastic surgery, etc. and not accepting themselves as they are. Unfortunately, capitalism also banks on this as well.

With that being said, peers - and society - punish those who rebel, who don’t conform. Who are strong enough to break out on their own.

Unfortunately, paedophiles factor in as opportunists. They simply take advantage of vulnerabilities. That’s what makes it so terrifying these days - kids are listening to what people tell them, or what they disorderly consume through the news, along with peer pressure. This causes them to defend ACTUAL paedophiles, and victimise, bully - innocent people.

They become lackeys for the real villains not so much because of the media, but because of the peer pressure involved with it. The popular opinion and the gullibility, the easily impressionable mind betrays them.

Good morning! I’m salty.

I think we, as a general community, need to start taking this little moment more seriously.

This, right here? This is asking for consent. It’s a legal necessity, yes, but it is also you, the reader, actively consenting to see adult content; and in doing so, saying that you are of an age to see it, and that you’re emotionally capable of handling it.

You find the content you find behind this warning disgusting, horrifying, upsetting, triggering? You consented. You said you could handle it, and you were able to back out at any time. You take responsibility for yourself when you click through this, and so long as the creator used warnings and tags correctly, you bear full responsibility for its impact on you.

“Children are going to lie about their age” is probably true, but that’s the problem of them and the people who are responsible for them, not the people that they lie to.

If you’re not prepared to see adult content, created by and for adults, don’t fucking click through this. And if you do, for all that’s holy, don’t blame anyone else for it.

[kissbyoon]

⠀𖼥ৎ⠀“shared seasons” ₍ k.mg ₎

───── ABOUT a glimpse of a perfect life with the love of your life

⋆ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: domestic fluff, humour, slice of life, comfort ⋆ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: bf!mingyu x f!reader ⋆ 𝒄𝒘: skinship, kissing, petnames (baby), mentions of food ⋆ 𝒘𝒄: 3.3k

A/N: tysm anon for requesting! lmk if you like this !! ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ

“Gyu, where's my toothbrush?”

Mingyu stopped brushing his teeth and turned his head to look at you—who is looking around the sink in search of a toothbrush. He points towards the mug where both of you usually put your toothbrushes.

“It should be here—” he paused, eyes widening as he pressed his lips into a thin line. The toothbrush that was in the mug was his.

With a look of disbelief and disgust, you stared at your boyfriend, who tried his best to hold in his laugh.

That meant yours was…

“Kim Mingyu!!!” you yell, reaching out to smack his shoulder, but he swiftly moves away with a giggle. “That's so— ew!” You whine, pointing at the toothbrush in his mouth.

Or should you say, your toothbrush.

“I took this by mistake! It's not a big deal!” Mingyu tried to protest.

“It is a big deal! I don't have a spare one and we have 40 minutes to get ready!”

“You have this,” he leans over with a sly smile, pointing to his toothbrush resting in the mug—slowly leaning away at your glare. “C’mon, baby, it's absolutely fine and normal between lovers.” He adds, continuing to brush his teeth with your toothbrush.

“Right,” You sigh, reaching over to grab his toothbrush instead. With a glance towards Mingyu’s direction—who was busy admiring himself in the mirror—you take the toothpaste and apply a small amount.

“It’s called a symbol of love.”

Mingyu snapped his head to look at you, eyes widening with surprise as his lips curved into a huge grin. “You're really going to use that?” He chirped, like it was the most wonderful thing in the world.

Well, nothing was more wonderful than witnessing your love start to become just like you.

“Do I have a choice?” You ask with a giggle as you begin to brush your teeth. Meanwhile, Mingyu kept giggling and stealing glances at you—soon turning a bit clingy as he reached out to hold your hand.

—

Just like that, both of you freshened up and started to get dressed for the hangout. The weather was just like any other perfect night—the beginning of spring with a tolerable amount of cold.

So, according to that, you decided to wear your favourite top with a cardigan and baggy trousers. But now, the most difficult choice—accessories. With the collection you have, it’s fair to say that it feels overwhelming to choose a single one and it makes you want to take all of them with you.

However, your boyfriend knew just what would suit you the most. So, taking your favourite set of earrings, you call out for him.

“Gyu?”

He immediately looks up from his phone, waiting for you to continue. You walk towards him, staring at the earrings in your hands with a frown.

“Which one looks better?” You ask, and he gently grabs your hand to look at the earrings. For a few seconds, he examines each of them with furrowed eyebrows before grinning.

“This one,” he says, taking his chosen pair of earrings from your hands before standing up to his feet, looking at you with an adorable grin.

“Does it look good?” You ask, still a bit hesitant. He immediately nods.

“Ofcourse it does, you look good in anything.”

Your lips curve into a smile at that, and you try to shrug it off. “So corny,” you giggle, but deep down he knows you love it when he compliments you like that. Which, by the way, is an everyday thing.

“I’m just romantic, you're not,” Mingyu pouts, shining his puppy-eyes at you. You scrunch your nose amusedly before tiptoeing a little to peck his lips.

“I'm more romantic than you, baby.”

You notice the way his eyes lit up when you kissed him, and regret doing so as a hint of mischief returned to them.

“Do it again, then I'll agree.” He demanded, pointing to his puckering lips.

“No, my kisses are expensive!”

“Says the one who kissed my whole face the whole day because I brought her a bouquet of crocheted flowers.”

“You're annoying.”

“You love me.” He grinned more when he noticed the way your lips showed the tiniest hint of a smile. Before he could form his next words, you reach out to cup his cheeks before pecking his lips again.

“There,” you say with a smile before rolling your eyes as he winked at you. “Now, allow me to get ready, we're already late.”

—

Surprisingly, both of you weren't ‘late’ to the hangout. Or more like, the party hadn't started without you two.

The whole night stretched out for hours and hours, leaving you extremely exhausted and sleep-deprived. And it would be fair to say you were a bit tipsy, because of all the excitement that rushed over you. While Mingyu refused to drink because he wanted to take care of you.

Ofcourse, he was the first one to notice your exhaustion and he knew that you do not want to be here any longer.

Bidding everyone goodbye, you headed outside with Mingyu guiding you gently—one hand on the small of your back and another one holding your hand. As you reach the parking lot, you squint your eyes, trying to spot Mingyu’s car. But it was nowhere to be found.

“Where's your car?” Slightly slurring, you ask. Mingyu glances at your direction, closing his eyes tightly when he remembered that Wonwoo had requested to borrow his car just before he left the party.

“Wonwoo hyung borrowed it for today,” he says, causing you to pout.

“Are we gonna walk all the way—”

You pause, staring at Mingyu who crouched down infront of you, his back facing you.

“I'll carry you.” He says, looking over his shoulder. You shift your weight from one foot to another, shaking your head.

“No… I've gained weight. We can just walk there.”

“What do you think this is for, baby?” He asks, proudly flexing his biceps with a smirk. “And it doesn't matter if you gained weight. I don't go to the gym for nothing.”

That made you giggle. He was right.

“Okay.” You mutter, carefully placing your hands on either one of his shoulders and leaning over while his arms hovered around your back to prevent you from tripping.

“I'm gonna stand up, okay?” Mingyu says softly, and after you hum in response, he slowly gets up to his feet, careful not to startle you. You wrap your arms around his collar, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder, seeking warmth.

“Comfortable?” He asks, slightly turning his head to look at you from the corner of his eye. You nod, letting out a contented sigh.

As he confirms that, he starts to walk ahead, always making sure to check whether or not you were asleep when it got too quiet. The streets were quiet, only the faint whoosh of the breeze audible—as if the world wasn't moving and only you and Mingyu were awake at this hour.

Well, to be very honest, that could be the case. Because it already had been past 2AM by the time you both reached your shared apartment.

Mingyu guided you inside, sat you down, handed you a glass of water, removed your makeup, helped you get changed into something much more comfortable, and now, laid you down on the bed, tucking you under the warm and comfortable sheets.

All these without a single complaint. Just soft and gentle words that didn't even sound judging. It didn't sound like he was mad at you for being a bit tipsy, like he was mad at you for being unable to do basic things by yourself in this state. No. He helped you with everything without a single question.

Mingyu quietly laid down beside you, refusing to take his part of the blanket when you told him to do so. He wasn't going to take it. Not after he realised how you were shivering in the cold and your hands felt like it had been touching snow in a harsh winter. And he wasn't feeling cold anyway.

“Give me your hand,” his voice tender and patient, he took your cold hands and grabbed a hot pack before placing it between your hands and wrapping his own hands around yours. You stared at him as he did all that, feeling a rush of emotions that caused your heart to feel heavy.

“Did you go to winter wonderland without me, baby?” He joked with a smile to lighten up the mood when he noticed how quiet you were. He raised his gaze to look at you, his eyes immediately softening when they met yours that shone with unshed tears.

Letting go off your hands, he scooted closer, placing a hand on the back of your head. “Baby? Did you not like my joke? I'm so sorry, please don't cry—”

“I love you, gyu,” you breathe out, your eyes never leaving his. Those words, at that very moment, hit his heart like the cupid's arrow. Like the very first time you had uttered those words. For him.

For a second, he wanted to run away when he felt his cheeks heat up and his heart skipped a beat. But then, he wanted to hug you and never pull away.

“I love you more, though.” He says, his lips instinctively curving into a smile when he saw a grin on your face and heard the chuckle you let out.

“Are we competing now?” Mingyu nods at that, his hands trailing down to wrap around your waist as he pulls you closer to cuddle.

“We have to,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper and his eyes glimmering with nothing but admiration and love. He leans over to bury his face in your neck. “Because I do love you more.”

“This is unfair, I'm too tired to argue, gyu.”

“Does that mean I win?”

“No, I'll get you tomorrow.” You declare, causing him to giggle.

“Hm, okay,” with a lingering kiss on your shoulder, he leans away and lets you cuddle up against him as he engulfs you in his arms.

Just when he feels your breathing begin to steady and your expression becomes peaceful, he pressed a kiss on the top of your head, whispering a ‘I’ll still win tomorrow’

Lucky for him, you were long asleep by then.

—

Last night was so exhausting to the point your brain went blank, and Mingyu too, got so lost in admiring you and both of you completely forgot that today was an extremely important day for you at work aswell as for him.

Because you had to submit your work to your team leader, and Mingyu had an important business meeting to attend with another company.

Well, the reason for Mingyu was clear and true—he doesn't want to leave you alone in that state and it's actually your fault for confessing out of nowhere.

Meanwhile, you promise in your life that you'll never ever drink again in your entire life. Although your boyfriend knows that it’ll be broken by next week, he still supports you like a girl’s girl.

But that wasn't the biggest problem right now. What actually was? The fact that it was 7 in the morning right now, and you had to be present at work by 7:30.

Although Mingyu’s meeting started at 8, he still insisted on dropping you off. And the way your apartment looked like a mess right now did not help—all your clothes, belongings scattered around because you literally woke up at 6:40 and had to rush everything.

And your boyfriend was quite literally on the same page. Tripping over everything that was scattered on the floor was one of the things he was doing before he came running to you with wide puppy eyes.

“Baby, have you seen my tie?” He asks, desperately trying to find it everywhere he can. You pause, trying to think about where it could be. Then it hit you—he had put it in the washing machine just yesterday after coming back from work.

“It's… in the washing machine…” you trail off, looking over to Mingyu, who was one step away from banging his head on the wall.

“Nooo…” He whined, his lips jutting out in a pout. Suddenly, he huffed and sprinted outside of the bedroom, heading somewhere.

Oh no. You really don't wish it was what you're thinking right now.

Soon, he enters the bedroom. This time, his brown and black tie that was put in the washing machine was in his hands as he aggressively tried to wrap it around his neck.

“Baby… you're really gonna wear that?” You ask in disbelief, although you did expect him to do that.

He raises his gaze, still trying to do the tie. “I don't have a spare one…” He mumbles in a pouty voice, and you could see how stressed he was.

He had a huge meeting ahead, and this shitty day was already starting off bad.

Letting out a sigh, you walk towards him. “Let me do it, gyu.” You say, and his lips immediately curved into a grin, making you smile aswell. Just as he hands you the tie, you sniff something and scowl.

“What's that burning smell?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows funnily.

“Huh?” He leans over to your side and sniffs, his expression instantly shifting from confusion to pure horror.

“Oh no,” he hisses to himself before running to the kitchen. You blinked in confusion, turning around to watch as he almost tripped over nothing on the way there. You followed behind him hastily, feeling the extreme panic radiate from him.

You soon reached the kitchen as well, asking him what's wrong as he stood there like a statue.

“Gyu—” you walk over to him, your eyes landing on the pan that rested over the stove with a burnt omelette in it. You gasp, quickly turning the stove off before looking over to Mingyu who stood there, shoulders slumped in disbelief, shock or sadness—you couldn't even tell.

“Baby…” he mumbled, unable to keep his laugh of self-destruction. Despite his attempts to stay composed, his eyes became a little teary, so you immediately reached out to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug.

“It's okay, don't worry about it,” You pat his back, trying to comfort him as he rested his head on your shoulder.

“I messed it up… now you’ll have to work on an empty stomach and that's not something nice.” He complains, still upset that you will be hungry, not him. You let out a soft chuckle at that.

“Hey, we can always grab something from the store while we walk to work, right?” You suggest in an amused voice, and he immediately perks up at that. But then he frowns.

“We’ll walk? But why?”

“Your car is still with Wonwoo, remember?” Just as you say that, Mingyu lets out a whine and leans against the wall behind him, as if among those 99 problems, another one had struck him like thunder to make it a 100.

You laugh at his dramatic reaction, placing your hands on his shoulders as you shake him a little. “C’mon, isn't it a good thing? Quality time, we call it.”

Ofcourse, that meant you would be a bit late to work. But maximum just by 10 minutes, so it wouldn't hurt.

“Are you sure?” He asks, again thinking about you and not himself. You nod, then notice the light in his eyes return in an instant.

“Then we should hurry up!” He chirps, and suddenly, he is all energetic and enthusiastic again.

Because of him, you are ready in just five minutes as he helped you do your hair and found everything you were searching for in the scattered mess. As for him, he just needed to wear the tie and do his hair, and you both were good to go.

—

Strolling down the street, hand in hand, with a bun in your other hand and a chocolate bread in his as you both talked about how this day would be so exhausting—sounded so peaceful after the hectic and rushed morning the two of you had experienced.

After Mingyu dropped you off, he headed to Wonwoo’s place to get his car back because he still had 20 minutes until the meeting. Also because he learned that the CEO being five minutes late doesn't matter anyway, the meeting should just go well.

Fast forwarding the time—you didn't think that your day would go by so smoothly. While you were glad and happy, you kept wondering how Mingyu’s day went.

Was the meeting successful? Did he have a good day? Or was he upset?

By the time you had gotten off work, you were sure he was done too. So, you dialed his number to ask him about his day but just then, a car pulled up on the road infront of you. As the windows rolled down, revealing Mingyu with a smile, you noticed the way his eyes didn't carry his usual spark.

Turns out, you were correct. But when your boyfriend said he will just have a pack of ramen before going to bed, you immediately refuse.

You weren't letting him go to bed with basically an empty stomach. Not after he had not even eaten lunch because of the business partner who always felt the need to drag out things and make everything more stressful.

“I'm okay, you don't have to cook..” Mingyu mumbles, watching you cut vegetables as he stands behind you. You shake your head firmly enough to let him know that you weren't going to back down.

“You need to eat, gyu. And I can cook for you.” You say, turning your head to glance at him once. For a moment, he stands still with no reaction, but then he pouts, stepping forward to wrap his arms around your torso, his face buried in your shoulder.

“That man pisses me off so bad.” He suddenly started ranting, and you listened to his complaints intendly. He ranted about how, out of anyone in the company, his personal assistant would be the last one he would suspect of something, and yet he turned out to be the one snitching on his company to their rivals.

“I trusted him alot, baby…” Mingyu mumbles against your shoulder. You raise one of your hands to cup his cheek as you turn around to face him so he could hug you properly.

“Come here,” you open your arms with a smile, and he immediately pulls you to his side to hug you. He sighs in contentment, the corners of his lips finally curving into a soft smile as he buried his face in your neck.

“Don't beat yourself up for it. You trusted someone, but they didn't turn out to be like you expected. That's fine, baby, that's really fine. Just be careful with how the person is before you trust them.” You say, patting his back gently as you rocked him side by side like a baby. He hummed in response and nodded, pressing a soft kiss against your skin.

“But that doesn't apply to me.” you joke in an attempt to lighten the mood, and Mingyu immediately let out a chuckle at that, tightening his grip around you.

“Why not?” He pulls back slightly to look at you in amusement.

“Because I'm special. Very special.” You grin at him as he takes a few seconds to just stare at you before laughing again.

“I can't argue with that.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“That's what I thought.”

The kitchen air was filled with your usual giggles and playful banters after that. But in the back of your mind, both of you knew the importance of each other. The importance of having each other in your lives.

No matter how the weather was—gloomy, rainy, thundering or sunny—it was never so bad for you two to stay apart. That wasn't just about the weather. And no matter what the season is, both of you will share the day with each other. It didn't always have to be a day filled with laughs and silliness, but it didn't pull you apart. Never.

KISSBYOON 2025. all rights reserved. @maestro-net @kstrucknet

[capseycartwright]

Saying "I love you" In-between kisses

Eddie had never been a lounging in bed kind of person. It hadn’t been allowed, when he was growing up – even at the weekend, there was sports to play, chores to do, and mass to attend. He’d never done much of that teenage oversleeping he lets Christopher indulge in, always out of bed by eight am, even during the holidays. He’d joined the army, and become a father in one breath, and so early mornings became the norm: Christopher had been an early riser, as a toddler, and then when he’d started school, the Diaz day had started at six am sharp.

The point was – Eddie rarely got to indulge.

He was indulging today.

They’d gotten back from Texas three weeks ago, and he’d been dating Buck for about three days. It had been a lot of life change all at once, and it had been perfect – coming back to LA had been coming home, and coming back to LA and to Buck had really been coming home. Neither of them had lasted very long before the confessions of undying love had come, exchanged quietly in the kitchen, Buck trying to decide which of their microwaves was the better one to keep, their house full of duplicates of just about everything.

Eddie had looked at him and not been able to hold it in any longer. He wanted this, him and Buck and mundane conversations about kitchen appliances for as long as he lived.

Burrowing himself underneath Buck’s fluffy, thick duvet (that had been an easy decision – Eddie had put his own bedroom set on Facebook marketplace the morning after they had gotten together, Buck’s mattress and duvet set up cloud-like. Eddie was not letting that go) Eddie let his eyes flutter shut, the distant whirl of the coffee machine telling him exactly where Buck was too.

(Hildy had been relegated to a cupboard, her convenient ways too good to get rid of – Buck’s fancy machine was out on the counter, there for days where Buck was willing to grind coffee beans, and steam milk, the sure sign of a perfect, slow morning.)

Christopher was still sleeping – Eddie didn’t need to look at the time to know that. It was a Saturday morning, after a busy week, they’d be lucky if he rose by lunchtime. Eddie didn’t mind. His kid was home, he and Buck were dating, and he was sleeping in a cloud. What more could he possibly ask for?

He felt Buck’s weight before he saw him, the clink of two mugs of coffee being set down on the nightstand the second indicator his boyfriend had returned. Gentle hands peeled back the duvet, Buck straddling Eddie, his curls soft against his forehead (the wonders of a silk pillowcase, Eddie had discovered – Karen had taught him that one), Buck wearing a grey t-shirt that had been cut off at the shoulders and pair of Eddie’s own sleep shorts, clearly having gotten dressed on his adventure to this kitchen.

“Hey, sleepy baby,” Buck hummed, his grin ever-present. They were definitely in the honeymoon stage, but Eddie figured it was allowed, only three days in. He pressed a soft kiss to Eddie’s lips, and God, Eddie was never going to get used to that – the fact that Buck was his, that he got to be on the receiving end of all the love and affection that Buck so freely gave.

“You got out of bed,” Eddie pouted. Maybe he was a bit of a baby.

“I did,” Buck hummed. “I made you a fancy coffee, though.”

Eddie glanced at the bedside table. “You did,” he relented. “I did have to wake up alone, though.”

“I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” Buck said dramatically. “How can I ever make it up to you?”

Eddie shrugged, somewhat petulantly, the duvet still tugged up to his chin. “No idea.”

“I can only apologise,” Buck hummed, pressing another kiss to Eddie’s waiting lips. “I love you,” he said, pausing to kiss again Eddie, longer, and deeper this time. “I love you,” he repeated, kissing Eddie for long enough this time that Eddie got lost in the feeling, letting Buck guide his mouth to where he wanted it to be, Buck’s tongue poking at the seam of Eddie’s mouth.

“Better?”

“Mm, almost.”

Buck laughed, but he kissed Eddie again. “I love you,” he sing-songed. “I love you, Eddie Diaz. I am so sorry I left you to wake up in bed alone,” kiss, kiss, kiss, and another for luck. “But I love you.”

Eddie wasn’t sure if ‘I love you’ accurately summed up the way he felt about Evan Buckley, but then again, he wasn’t sure if any language had managed to sum up the way he felt about Buck – how safe, and warm, and cared for he felt when he was with him, how Buck was so much more than the man he loved, how he was the other half of Eddie’s soul, the part of him he’d been searching for his entire life.

“I love you,” he kissed Buck, trying to pour every feeling he had into the embrace.

Buck hummed, rolling off Eddie as they broke apart, propping himself up against the headboard. He reached across Eddie for his coffee, making an agreeable noise as he took his first, and second sip.

Relenting, Eddie forced himself to sit up, taking the second mug. It really was good coffee, he though, the first sip delicious and caramel-like as he drank. “This is the perfect way to wake up,” he said softly, leaning against Buck. It was perfect – it was everything Eddie hadn’t ever thought he deserved, but selfishly, he wanted it forever.

Buck beamed at him. “It really is.”

That was how Christopher found them, a half an hour later, when he finally woke, their coffees long-since finished but the two of them still sitting peacefully in bed, Eddie half dozing as Buck scrolled through a news article on his phone. The image of his son standing sleepily in the doorway, a fond expression on his face, struck something deeper, in Eddie – he could imagine a few more kids standing at that doorway, with Buck’s curls and his bright blue eyes, could imagine the weight of a wedding band back on his finger.

It was a perfect fantasy – one he’d focus on later.

For now, he was having a quiet morning in bed with his family. It was perfect.

send me a physical intimacy prompt

[ymfingsteadilyon]

[Image description: A new page for the D&D manual, transcribed below:

Scheduling games

Across its 50 years of publication, Dungeon & Dragons has released rules covering almost every imaginable situation. However, it has never dealt with a core problem which has perpetually bedeviled the game: scheduling. The Dark Lord does not defeat the brave adventuring party. Scheduling defeats the brave adventuring party.

This edition will provide a simple set of rules to ensure your campaigns run smoothly, with a maximum of momentum, and a minimum chance of ending prematurely.

These are the core rules

The DM sets a regular time to play.

The game happens on that night, with whoever turns up.

The only time a date moves is if the DM can't make that time or if literally no other player can make it.

This is a change over the dominant play culture, so may require some introduction to a group unfamiliar with this concept.

During the first session

The DM explains that they will be playing regularly at a set time. It is perfectly fine for people to miss sessions. Life is more important than a game, and must take priority. However, we will be playing whether any player makes it or not. If no one can, we may reschedule, but if not, we'll skip to the next session.

The DM should explain why. Most campaigns end through not doing this. This may be a fantasy game, but in the modern world, thinking everyone can be at every session is the real fantasy. We will find ways to make the game work without everyone at the table.

Arranging the games is an extra cognitive load, which almost inevitably falls upon the DM's shoulders. Prepping the game need not include prepping the players. It's also simpler for all other players – they know when there is a game they're meant to be playing. We say "scheduling sessions". Having them on an actual schedule mades this much easier. You know what you have planned for Monday night.

It's possible that some players who miss games may fear they'll feel excluded, and worry that they're a bit player. Absolutely not. You turn up rarely? You're a guest star. If anyone turns up, they are celebrated. However, it's unfair to the other players who have time to play to derail the whole game waiting. By playing regularly without you means it's much more likely there will be a game for you to play whenever you are available.

The group should discuss what it means for characters whose players miss a session, and what is and isn't appropriate. Ideally, the session break will provide a chance to justify their absence – after all, in The Hobbit, how often did Gandalf wander off? At the start of the next session the DM player can introduce what they've been up to. It may even be a useful springboard for the next adventure.

If that's impossible, discuss what happens to a character. Is them being removed by narrative fiat acceptable? Events such as them having to suddelnly leave on a quest, or even be kidnapped are possible, if the players are willing. Alternatively, if their presence is required, discuss how they step back into the the supporting cast. When their character's relevant abilities are required, they'll use them, but otherwise be quiet. Some groups may give another player a character to play. In some groups, one may discuss what's an acceptable use of their resources. While sharing a healing potion may be fine, it would be bad form to give away someone's +5 sword vs Kobolds when they were away. The group should agree that the DM and everyone will be acting in good faith, and they'll return to find their character in a recognisable state.

Even if only one player arrives to the session, play should continue. A solo-focus adventure can have a very differernt feel. One can consider a flashback episode to a formative part of their lives, or something intensely about their own narrative background. Consider dream sequences which feed back into the the proper game, or many other. Players missing is a problem – but it is also an opportunity. Playing regularly means you have the space to explore it.

DM missing?

For more advanced players, you can consider playing a game even if the DM cannot attend. It's an ideal chance for a DM-curious player to step up and run a one off. One could even play another game.

Less savoury thoughts

It's unlikely a good idea to talk about the other reasons whu this tends to make campaigns run smoother – that someone getting a little FOMO may actually make them more likely to turn up. It's easy to skip something that isn't happening. On the other hand, if someone simply doesn't ever make it, it reveals that the game would never have been a scheduling priority – and this way the group discovers that without spending weeks of painful e-mails that reveal that player was always more interested in something else.

End of ID.]

I was recently in a pub, talking to a friend about their collapsed game of Dungeons & Dragons. I was somewhat frustrated by their tale of woe – perhaps the most common tale of woe. I imagined all these decades of people wasting time, just waiting for that one player to be free on Friday.

I decided to solve their problem by writing a patch for the 2024 edition of the D&D Players handbook.

There's a PDF to download in the link

Print it out and slide it in after Page 8.

[taegimood]

— nudes?! (h.k) ♡

pairing: huening kai x fem!reader genre: best friends to ?, non-idol au, suggestive rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 1.7k warnings: mention/description of reader's nudes, mention of reader in lingerie, brief mention of masturbation (m), implication of sexy time at the end, kai gets a hard-on, everybody’s horny synopsis: what happens when your best friend who secretly has the hots for you accidentally sees your nudes?

requested forever ago by @mapofthemazeinthemirror <3 [blog status: semi-hiatus, requests closed]

| yeonjun ver. | soobin ver. | beomgyu ver. | taehyun ver. |

masterlist

──────────────────────

huening kai likes to think of himself as something of a y/n connoisseur.

as your best friend, he knows all your likes, and all your dislikes; he knows what gets your jaw ticking, and what exactly makes you blush.

(he especially knows how to get you to do both.)

huening kai prides himself on knowing nearly all the ins and outs of you, but one thing that he doesn't know, that drives him straight up the wall and keeps him up late at night when he can't seem to sleep...

is whether you feel the same way about him.

to everyone else but you, apparently, it's no secret that kai has quite the crush. but what is he supposed to say? how is he supposed to tell you that he wishes it were you he could wrap his arms around instead of the mound of plushies scattered over his bed, or that every time he touches himself, it's only the thought of you that brings him over the edge?

how is he supposed to tell you that you're not just a friend to him? that he wants to be more?

this is what he finds himself pondering yet again as he sits at the drum set in his university band’s practice room, mindlessly tapping the stick in his left hand against the snare, his wandering thoughts leading to half-assed vigor as his bandmate eyes him in mild annoyance from where he sits across the room tuning his guitar.

kai glances at the clock.

she should’ve texted by now… she said 3, right?

his best friend taehyun always jokes that anyone would know huening kai is down bad when he actually checks his phone for someone, and kai has to admit that he’s right.

you’ve got him hooked; how else does he explain the fact that you actually get responses out of him — and much quicker than he’d rather acknowledge — while the guys only get to hear from him, if they’re lucky, about every 3-5 business years? (beomgyu’s exaggeration, not his.)

and yet the only one who doesn’t see it is you.

today he waits for you to show him your haul from the japan trip you just got back from with his sisters — “are you sure i can’t come with you?” “it’s a girl’s trip, kai, and i don’t know how good you’d look in a dress.” — and after how excited you’d sounded over the phone to show him the whole array of plushies and snacks and anime trinkets you’d bought, including some gifts for him, he can’t help but watch wistfully as the minute hand ticks onwards towards 3:27pm.

why is she late..? she didn’t forget, did she?

now, kai is a very patient person; he has no problem with giving people their space.

and with anyone else, he wouldn’t really mind too much if it’s been a while since he’s seen them.

but with you…

he sighs.

you... you’re different.

about 10 more minutes pass and he’s resorted to banging out his thoughts on the drums, almost finally focused on what he came here to be doing in the first place, until he feels his phone buzz in his pocket and he’s quick to halt his practice run and fish it out.

he smiles to himself at the sight of your name on his screen;

— y/n/n (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) : hyuka, i’m sorry i’m late!! i got caught up with something.. ㅠㅠ here are the main pics for now, and i can show you everything in full when you come over later hehe <3

god, how does she make everything sound so cute…

he clicks on the first picture, a small laugh immediately bubbling past his lips at the sight of your barely visible form squished behind the giant plushie you’d seemingly wrestled into the taxi coming back from the airport — he keeps scrolling, seeing some more pictures from the trip but mainly the ones he figures you’d just now taken: your little haul spread across your bed, displaying all the various items you’d bought and couldn’t wait to show him.

“man, how much did she buy?” he murmurs to himself as he glances at the picture count at the top of the screen and sees that there’s still 8 left.

22/30.

“i thought that was everythi—“

CRASH.

the drumsticks in his free hand slip to the ground with a loud clatter, meeting the hi-hat cymbals on the way down in a jarring cacophony akin to the way his brain feels right now as his thoughts stutter, nearly choking on his own spit, fumbling to maintain a steady grip on his phone and ignoring his bandmate’s question of “dude, are you good?” as he stares with comically wide eyes down at the sight on the screen in front of him.

y-you- s-she- what do i-

kai’s mouth runs dry.

so this is what you were “caught up with”.

the heat that travels down to his unsuspecting cock moves in record time as he takes in the 23rd photo: a selfie angled from slightly above, of you perched on the edge of your bed in a cute frilly set of LINGERIE that leaves hardly anything to the imagination, like something out of a playboy lolita magazine of his dreams — the circuits in his brain are working overtime to keep from shorting as his eyes rove intensely over your dizzying figure.

your accentuated cleavage, the plushness of your thighs, how soft the material looks against your skin…

fuck, his own skin is burning.

he can’t even believe that this is real life when he scrolls through a few more and lands on the image that will hereby without a single doubt be burned into his brain forever — you’d let the straps of the flimsy top slip down your shoulders, and now your boobs are out, a real life anime nosebleed moment about to happen for kai as he gapes and flushes at the visualization of his own wet dreams come to life.

zooming in on your thighs (for science), he then notices the tag still attached to your sheer little panties — so you got this lingerie in japan too, and oh my god —

wait, wait, wait—

he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, forcing himself to calm down a little as he pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a breath.

did she actually mean to send these pictures? should i even be looking? did she really want to show me this too? did she... did she buy it for….

he can’t finish the thought.

kai’s rock-hard cock just somehow got harder.

he doesn’t have to battle through his moral musings for much longer, though, because suddenly his phone starts buzzing with a rapid slew of notifications; he nearly jumps as he sees that they’re all from you, and he swallows hard, feeling like he just got caught doing something bad as he hesitates before sliding back to the chat.

— y/n/n (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) : KAI WAIT DON’T OPEN THOSE STOP — y/n/n (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) : WAIT WAIT WAIT PLEASE — y/n/n (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) : KAI JUST DELETE THEM DON’T EVEN LOOK OKAY

he stares frozen at your messages. he knows that you can see he’s read them; he knows he needs to say something.

but now all kinds of new thoughts are circulating through his head.

so it was just an accident? should i try to lie for her sake? do i just say that i didn’t open them yet?

…and if they weren’t meant for me… then who were they meant for?

the irksome twist in his gut is foreign, and he doesn’t like it, not one bit.

but then you keep going... and quickly he realizes that the hole you’ve now begun digging yourself into is finally his ticket to heaven.

— y/n/n (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) : you’re not saying anything fuck fuck fuck okay — y/n/n (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) : okay look — y/n/n (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) : you probably think i’m a psycho pervert — y/n/n (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) : i probably just fucked up our entire friendship and i’m so sorry — y/n/n (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) : i just saw the set and thought it was cute and it made me think of you and i kinda just bought it spontaneously you know and i was just kinda in my feelings so i took the pictures with the rest of the haul but i didn’t mean to send those ones i swear so just pretend this whole thing never happened and we can just be normal okay pls — y/n/n (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) : WAIT NO I DIDN’T MEAN IT MADE ME THINK OF YOU LIKE, YOU KNOW LIKE *THAT* THAT’S NOT WJAT I MEANT — y/n/n (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) : FUCK I DON’T KNLW WHAT I MEANT

kai’s heartbeat roars in his ears (and his cock) as he processes your admission.

she bought it because of me.

he can’t help but grin.

she feels the same way.

huening kai has never been the best at expressing himself, but he knows this is an opportunity that he’d rather die than not take as he takes a deep breath, giddily lowers his thumbs to the screen, and begins to type.

you pace around your room with your lip caught nervously between your teeth and nothing but dread looming over you as the minutes tick by with no response —

fuck, i’ve ruined everything. i’ve ruined it all.

and when your phone finally buzzes with a text, you almost don’t even want to read it.

but steeling yourself, you take a peek —

a sharp inhale. tingles like fire across your skin.

his calm response:

— hyuka! <3 : can i still come over?

your fingers stall dumbly over the keyboard.

is he… going along with it? pretending nothing happened? or… or is he… does he mean….?!

you gulp.

— you : i mean.. of course, if you still want to.. — hyuka! <3 : okay! :)

o…okay..? what is he-

your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at the next messages that come through, the flood of warmth that shoots immediately down between your thighs leaving you teetering as you stumble back down into a sitting position on the edge of your bed.

— hyuka! <3 : oh, and you should keep the set on — hyuka! <3 : you said you’d show me everything in full, after all.

huening kai has never moved with such determination than the way he does right now as he rises from the drum set and grabs his things, beelining for the door with his jacket held in front of him to hide the raging hard-on in his pants as he calls to his bewildered bandmate, “sorry, gotta head out!” and leaves the practice room in a heady rush.

he knows how you feel now — and he can’t wait to show you face-to-face exactly how much he returns the sentiment.

──────────────────────

— taglist: @razsberrie, @saejinniestar, @hyukalyptus, @florestalio, @beomiracles, @kiss4baku, @kejingken, @hyukascampfire, @cherr4es, @stawmerry, @choikanghuening, @dawngyu, @soo-blue, @paradigms13, @cha3sonly

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