#like don’t get me wrong i want comments more than anything
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HELLOUU!! Hope you’re having a good day pls take rests and drink enough water, stay healthy~! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ
I’ve been thinking about the blue lock boys with a extremely girly and feminine reader headcanon, LIEK a scenario where the s/o takes an ungodly amount of time to do make up or shop (bonus point if reader drags them to different stores in each mall and makes them carry the shopping bags) i think majority of the characters are rather boy ish (maybe besides chigiri) so I wonder how they’d deal with a polar opposite , this is kinda based off me irl — my bf used to complain about how long i take when i do make up but now he just shuts up and plays games or scroll on his social media to pass time. Thankyew in advance if you do write for this request!
ヽ(o^▽^o)ノ
AJDKJDHWKJEH THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE!! >_<
Rin
- Rin does not understand why it takes you 45 minutes to perfect eyeliner, but he doesn’t argue—just sits there with his arms crossed and his “I hate the world” face.
- When you ask him which shade of pink lipstick looks better, he mumbles something like, “They’re the same.” (Spoiler: They are not the same.)
- Acts like he loathes carrying your shopping bags (he LOVES holding them for you). He’ll just trail behind you with a mountain of bags, brooding like he wants to disappear.
- If someone so much as looks at you the wrong way while you’re trying on clothes, Rin glares at them until they regret their life choices.
- Lowkey finds it cute when you get excited over glittery stuff but will never admit it.
Sae
- Sae’s patience is… questionable. He’s the type to lean against a wall, scrolling on his phone while you shop, throwing in sarcastic comments like, “Haven’t you already bought three dresses that look like this?”
- He’ll carry your bags but insists on negotiating after the third store. “I’ll hold these if we don’t go to another store after this.” Spoiler: You drag him into four more.
- Will openly tease you for taking forever with your makeup. “Do you really need to contour your nose? It looks fine.”
- Secretly appreciates how put-together you always look. If you ever catch him staring, he’ll brush it off with, “I was just thinking about something else.”
- Occasionally buys you cute stuff when he’s traveling but pretends it’s no big deal. “I just saw it and thought it’d shut you up for a while.
Nagi
- Suffering incarnate. Nagi is absolutely overwhelmed by your energy. “Do we really have to go to another store? Can’t we just order this online?”
- He slouches on every available chair while you shop and 100% falls asleep if you take too long in the dressing room.
- Doesn’t mind carrying your bags, though, because it’s easier than arguing. “As long as you owe me for this later… Maybe snacks or a nap.”
- Will absentmindedly compliment you when you’re putting on makeup. “Oh, that sparkly thing looks cool. What’s it called? High…lighter?”
- Somehow still finds your bubbly, girly energy soothing in a weird way. It’s like your enthusiasm balances out his laziness.
Karasu
- Karasu thinks it’s hilarious. He lives to tease you while you’re dragging him around the mall. “Babe, you don’t need another sparkly pink phone case. Oh wait, you do? My bad.”
- Constantly flirts with you while you’re shopping. “That dress is cute, but it’d look better on my bedroom floor.”
- Will 100% help you pick out clothes and accessories. He’s surprisingly good at it, too. “This shade of blue matches your eyes—trust me, I’m a professional.”
- Carries your bags with a smug grin, saying things like, “Anything for my princess.”
- Genuinely loves how different you are from him. Your energy and sweetness keep him on his toes, and he’s obsessed with it.
#blue lock#bllk#bllk x reader#rin itoshi#blue lock x reader#itoshi rin#rin itoshi x reader#sae itoshi#itoshi sae#nagi seishiro#seishiro nagi#karasu tabito#bllk rin#bllk sae#bllk nagi#bllk karasu#blue lock headcanons#rin itoshi headcanons#bllk fluff#blue lock fluff#bllk sae itoshi#bllk itoshi sae#bllk bf headcanons#bllk boys#sae itoshi x reader#nagi seishiro x reader#karasu x reader#karasu tabito x reader#bllk x y/n#bllk x you
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Avoiding caitlin because you have a crush on her after being friends for a while but she gets suspicious and finds out by interrogating you and forcing you to confess meanwhile she feels the same way and kisses you
AVOIDANCE
CAITLIN CLARK X READER
comments: getting to all my requests now!
warnings: none
you and caitlin clark had been inseparable since your freshman year at iowa. from the moment you stepped onto campus, she’d taken you under her wing, made sure you felt like you belonged. it started with extra shooting drills after practice and late-night junk food runs during midterms, and somewhere along the way, it became everything. you were her shadow, her constant. on the court, you had this sixth sense with each other—she’d dish out a no-look pass, and you’d already be there to finish. off the court, it was easy. effortless.
but it stopped being effortless when you realized you were in love with her.
it hit you like a freight train one night in your shared apartment. you were on the couch, her long legs draped across your lap as you both mindlessly watched a movie. she’d laughed at something, her hazel eyes crinkling at the corners, and you’d felt it in your chest—this undeniable ache, this overwhelming need to just be hers.
you tried to ignore it, but it only got worse. the way her long brown hair fell in loose waves after practice, the way she’d push up the sleeves of her hoodie to reveal her toned forearms, the way her big hands would linger on your back during a hug—it was all too much. you couldn’t breathe around her without wanting more, and it scared the hell out of you.
so you did the only thing you could think of: you started pulling away.
you stopped hanging out one-on-one. you claimed you were too busy with classes, with extra workouts, with anything you could use as an excuse. at practice, you avoided her eyes, focused on your own drills, didn’t stay late like you used to.
it didn’t take long for her to notice. caitlin was nothing if not observant, and you could feel her eyes on you every time you brushed her off or avoided her touch. she didn’t say anything at first, but you knew it was only a matter of time.
it came to a head after a late-night practice. the gym was empty except for the two of you, and you were hoping to slip out unnoticed when her voice stopped you cold.
“y/n,” she called, sharp and commanding, like one of her on-court directives.
you froze, your heart racing as you turned to face her. she was standing at the free-throw line, her hands on her hips, her hazel eyes boring into you.
“what’s going on with you?” she demanded, walking toward you. her long strides ate up the space between you until she was standing right in front of you, close enough that you could smell the faint scent of her shampoo.
“nothing,” you said quickly, looking anywhere but at her. “i’ve just been busy, that’s all.”
“bullshit.” her tone was sharp, but her eyes softened as she searched your face. “you’ve been avoiding me. don’t lie to me, y/n. just tell me what’s wrong.”
your chest tightened, and you took a step back, trying to put some distance between you. “it’s nothing, caitlin. seriously.”
she followed, closing the gap you’d just created. “no. you don’t get to do this. we’ve been best friends for three years, and now you’re just shutting me out? what the hell, y/n?”
her voice cracked on your name, and it broke something in you. you couldn’t do this anymore.
“because i’m in love with you!” you blurted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to keep going. “and i can’t—i can’t just be your friend anymore, okay? i can’t sit next to you, or laugh with you, or play with you without wanting more. and it sucks, because i know you don’t feel the same way, and it’s killing me, caitlin. so yeah, i’ve been avoiding you, because it’s easier than pretending i’m fine when i’m not.”
you stopped, your chest heaving, tears stinging your eyes as you finally met her gaze. her expression was unreadable, and your stomach sank.
“say something,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
she didn’t say anything. instead, she stepped closer, her big hands reaching out to cup your face. before you could process what was happening, her lips were on yours.
it wasn’t gentle. it was desperate, like she’d been holding back for just as long as you had, and now that the dam had broken, there was no stopping it. her fingers tangled in your hair, her body pressing against yours as you kissed her back, your hands gripping the front of her hoodie like you needed something to hold onto.
when she finally pulled back, you were both breathless. her forehead rested against yours, her hazel eyes soft and full of something that made your heart race.
“you’re an idiot,” she said, her voice low and shaky.
“what?” you blinked at her, confused.
“you think i don’t feel the same way?” she shook her head, a small, incredulous smile tugging at her lips. “y/n, i’ve been in love with you for years. i just didn’t know how to tell you.”
your breath hitched, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. “you mean—”
“yes,” she interrupted, her thumb brushing your cheek. “i’m in love with you. i’ve been in love with you, and you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
you laughed, a shaky, disbelieving sound, and she kissed you again, softer this time, like she had all the time in the world.
thanks for reading! requests open!
#wnba x reader#caitlin clark x reader#wnba imagine#wbb x reader#wbb imagine#iowa wbb#caitlin clark#caitlin clark imagine#indiana fever
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Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Twenty Five
-gif not mine. credit to owner-
Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.
Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?
Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!
Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066 @nameless-ken @minami97 @bookofriverr
I sat in the large bedroom, feeling out of place. Bucky told me to make myself at home, no matter what. He wanted me to feel comfortable especially since I wasn’t sure how long I’d be staying with him. To be honest, I probably could have gone to stay with anyone else but when Bucky offered his house, my heart jumped at the idea of being alone with him for more than an hour. It wasn’t the best idea, knowing our history, and I had done such a good job at getting over him that this only spelled disaster.
The loud voice in my head scoffed, knowing that I was lying about getting over him.
With a sigh, I forced myself to get up and at least unpack my bags, hoping it would make me feel a bit more comfortable here. This house was Bucky's. He worked so hard for everything and it felt wrong for me to come in pretending that I belonged here with him.
There was a soft knock on the door and I gave my best smile to Bucky, who was leaning against the frame with his arms over his chest.
“Settling in fine?”
I gave a half shrug. “I guess.”
He could tell by the way my voice faltered that something was wrong so Bucky pushed himself off the frame and motioned towards the bed.
“It’s your house,” I responded flatly.
Bucky let out a deep breath while sitting on the end of the bed. “Is that why you’ve been so closed off? You didn’t say one word the entire drive.”
My gaze stuck on my hands as I watched my fingers work on folding a shirt, two times to many.
“I feel as if I’m invading your personal space. I would have been fine staying in a hotel until everything blows over.”
“You’re not, Y/N. I want you here. How else would I be able to make sure you’re safe?” Bucky questioned.
I didn’t say anything, only tossed the shirt back into my suitcase and let out an annoyed breath.
“This is such bullshit,” I grumbled. “I shouldn’t have to feel like I can’t stay in my own home.”
Bucky went to reach for me but held himself back, knowing that we weren’t there quite yet. We only just saw each other again after eight months.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized with a broken sigh.
“It’s not your fault, Bucky,” I shook my head and finally looked into his eyes.
The usual light that shone behind them that I found myself drowning in was long gone. Clearly the last eight months had also been hard on him; even though he deserved some pain. Just a little bit.
“Can I ask you something?”
His voice was quiet but I had still heard him by giving him a nod.
“Why did you leave for eight months?” Bucky asked.
“Bucky,” I sighed, not wanting to get into this right now.
“I deserve to know,” he said.
I scoffed while crossing my arms over my chest. “You deserve to know? Are you fucking kidding me?”
He placed his head in his hands. “I don’t want to fight, doll. I just want to know why you were away for so long.”
My shoulders dropped when I heard the hurt in his voice and decided that a fight between us wasnt what either of us needed. I took a seat next to him but not too close, unafraid of what would happen if I felt him brush against me.
“I thought that if I stayed away that long that it would help me move on from you, get over what we went through,” I admitted.
Bucky’s hands were clasped together as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“Did it work?” he asked
I looked at him with so much love in my heart and eyes, my voice breaking in a hushed tone. I almost uttered those three words that would fall from my lips while I dreamt of him every night while I was gone.
“I’m afraid to find out.”
Vibranium fingers wrapped squeezed my thigh, Bucky’s touch shocking all the buried feelings back to the surface.
“It was wrong of me to put you in that position. You deserved to have someone that wouldn’t cause you pain. You should be their first priority, Y/N.”
I began to slowly trace the gold lines of his arm, my gaze falling on his face. “I wanted you to be that person, Bucky.”
He let out a very shaky breath, lips trembling, and looked down. “I’m sorry.”
For the second time tonight, he apologized. The only difference was that this one was his fault, so I gently leaned my head against his shoulder.
“I appreciate your apology.”
We stayed like this for a while, my head on his shoulder and his hand on my knee. No other movements happened between us as words were not said, only enjoying the quiet solace that we had found ourselves in. Even if he had apologized, I wasn’t going to pick up where we left off. I couldn’t let myself get distracted with him when my life was on the line, the hit looming in the dark behind us.
Bucky’s phone began to ring and I removed my head with a quiet sigh, watching him answer the call from Steve.
“Yeah? I’m at home. Y/N’s here,” he gave me a small smile. “When did you find this out?”
The anger was clear in the way his jaw glanced, eyes going dark.
“Send me the address. We’ll meet you there.”
Bucky ended the call and rose to his feet quickly. “Let’s go.”
His hand was extended towards me and I raised a brow at it. “Where?”
“Steve has a meeting with someone who knows more about where Clint and Natasha may have gone.”
Without a second thought, I followed Bucky’s previous actions by rising to my feet and slipped into my jacket. As I went to walk past him, Bucky’s finger slipped between my fingers.
“Promise that you’ll stay close to me tonight?”
I nodded. “Whatever you say, goes.”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes#mob!bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes and reader#sebastian stan#bucky barnes and reader#mob!bucky barnes x yn#mob!bucky barnes reader insert#mob!bucky barnes and yn#moment of weakness bucky barnes
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Too Clingy...?
ִ ࣪𖤐 loser!ellie w x fem!reader
After weeks of tension with your roommate, you turn to your girlfriend Ellie for comfort. But when a teasing comment makes you question your place in her life, you distance yourself, afraid of being "clingy."
warnings ִ ࣪𖤐 word count 1.5k, college!AU, established relationship, anxiety (r), overthinking, hurt/comfort, misunderstanding, emotional breakdown, mild language, kissing
It had been a rough few weeks. The tension with your roommate had reached a breaking point, and you were finding it hard to breathe, let alone function. Every day felt like a struggle. You’d been feeling emotionally drained, constantly walking on eggshells, and trying to avoid conflict in your own space. Your dorm room had become a place of silence, and it felt like you were suffocating.
One night, after another argument with your roommate that left you feeling small and unimportant, you packed a bag and went straight to Ellie’s. You didn’t even need to text her beforehand—Ellie always knew when you needed her. Her dorm had become your safe space, the place where you could let go of all the tension and just breathe.
Ellie opened the door, her face softening when she saw you. She immediately pulled you into a tight hug. “Hey! Woah...what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice gentle.
You sniffled and buried your face in her shoulder. “My roommates a fucking bitch. She argues with me about the stupidest things and leaves passive aggressive sticky notes everywhere and then she just keeps-I just cant do it. Im so done."
Ellie tightened her grip on you, her hands running through your hair soothingly. “Shh, babe. You’re always welcome here, you know that. You don’t need to explain it all to me."
In the weeks that followed, you found yourself at Ellie’s more often than not. Being with her was an escape. You’d spend your evenings wrapped in the warmth of her arms, playing games, watching movies, or simply lying together in a comfortable silence. For the first time in a long time, you truly felt like you could let go of all the stress that had built up.
You and Ellie were lying on her bed, curled up together. You had your head resting on her shoulder while she played Minecraft on her phone, tapping away at the screen as you both enjoyed the quiet of the room. It was one of those perfect moments where everything felt in place. You didn’t need to talk. You didn’t need to do anything except be there with her.
Ellie talked suddenly, breaking the silence. She glanced at you with a teasing grin. “You’re really here every night now, huh? I might start calling you my official roommate. Getting a little clingy, mm?"
The comment hung in the air, and your stomach sank. The word "clingy" hit you like a ton of bricks. She said it with that usual mischievous smile, but something about the way she said it made your chest tighten.
Clingy.
The word echoed in your mind as you lay there, still and frozen. Had you been too much? Was she annoyed with you? You’d been spending so much time at her place lately, leaning on her for comfort when you didn’t know where else to go. Maybe she was tired of it. Maybe she was tired of you.
Ellie went on, completely unaware of how her words had affected you. “I’m just messing with you,” she said, laughing lightly, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "you know my favorite you is clingy you."
Still, you couldn’t shake the doubt. It festered in the pit of your stomach. Clingy. You wanted to push it out of your mind, but it was all you could think about. Maybe she really was tired of you. Maybe her joke had truth lining in it and she was wanting some space from you.
You stayed quiet, too lost in your head to respond. When the moment passed, you quietly gathered your things, not looking at Ellie. “I should head out... I’ve got a lot of work to do,” you said, your voice soft and distant.
Ellie didn’t seem to notice your change in energy. She was already absorbed in her phone again, focused on the game, not on you. She didn’t look up when you left, but if she had-she would not have let you leave.
As you walked out, your heart felt heavy. Had you been too much? Too clingy? Ellie had always been understanding, but that comment, though playful, made you spiral.
You didn’t go back to your dorm. Instead, you found yourself at the library, hiding away from the world. You tried to focus on your schoolwork, but the thoughts wouldn’t stop swirling in your mind. Was she really tired of you? Had you made things awkward? You didn’t want to burden her anymore, but the more you thought about it, the more you questioned whether she really wanted you around.
Days passed, and you kept your distance. You couldn’t bring yourself to reach out to Ellie. Maybe she was right; maybe you had become clingy, and now you were giving her space to breathe.
You didn't respond to her texts and calls and you're sure that's what set her off to finally just track you down on your shared location one afternoon.
While you were hunched over a stack of textbooks in the library, you heard a familiar voice.
“Hey,” Ellie said softly, making you jump. You didn’t even need to look up to know it was her. “Haven’t seen you around in a while. Everything okay?”
"That's good news, isn't it?"
She looks confused, a little hurt, "what...?"
Your throat tightened, and before you could stop it, all the thoughts you’d been bottling up poured out. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you said, voice cracking. “It’s just... It's me. I’ve been overthinking everything since you called me clingy. I know it was a joke, but Ellie it's true. I spend so much time at your dorm, in your space. I didn't want to overwhelm you anymore so I just-"
Ellie knelt in front of you, her gaze softening. “No, hey stop that,” she said gently, taking your hands in hers. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just messing with you. I love having you in my dorm, I prefer it. You’re not clingy. You never could be. I’m sorry I made you feel like you were.”
You bit your lip, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders, but the hurt was still there, lingering. “I didn’t want to make things weird, and here I am making it weird."
Ellie smiled, brushing a hand over your cheek. “You could never make things weird, babe. I promise."
You blinked back tears, suddenly overwhelmed by how much you needed to hear those words. Ellie leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m always here for you, okay? Don’t shut me out.”
You smiled, finally feeling like you could breathe again. You nodded, feeling safe in her arms as she held you close.
“I love you,” you whispered.
“I love you too,” Ellie replied, leaning in after to press a kiss to your lips.
taglist // @kaykeryyy
#ellie williams#ellie x reader#ellie#ellie tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie x fem!reader#ellie x female reader#ellie x y/n#ellie x fem reader#ellie x you#ellie williams x fem!reader#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams fanfiction#tlou ellie williams#ellie williams tlou#ellie willams x reader#ellie williams fic#ellie williams fluff#ellie fluff#ellie smut#ellie fanfic#ellie fic#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams x f!reader#ellie x f!reader#modern!au#college!au
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22 for fic writer asks 🖤
22. do you ever worry about public reaction to what you're writing? how do you get past that?
ooh honestly, i don't think so? i think i'm lucky in that for the last 3-4 years, the people i've managed to attract as an audience to my writing are people who have mostly similar tastes to me, and who enjoy similar types of characterizations and themes and stories. so i feel pretty confident about the stuff i write (aside from like... the typical writer spiraling during the process when i think everything is bad LOL) and while i'm writing it i don't think i ever get the feeling that it's going to bomb or turn people off or that people will generally dislike it. or rather than not getting the feeling, i don't really think about it all. it doesn't occur to me that ppl might not like it bc i don't care bc i like it😆 i haven't written too much stuff that's "out there" or controversial in some way in a few years now (rly want to though), but even when i did, i got great reactions from likeminded people, so i haven't ever really been scared out of it 🙏 it's my own procrastination and being daunted by my own ideas that's stopping me
if we're talking "reaction" in general like comments/engagement, i'm kind of used to writing for like, myself and my corner of 3-5 freaks, so i don't expect many reactions in the first place 😆 so any comment i get is always a joy and a surprise! these days i don't find it too demotivating to think only a few people are gonna read what i write bc i'm pretty focused on just wanting my ideas to exist in my writing style and if ppl happen to like it that's an extra perk. and also the few people who are gonna read it are gonna go apeshit about it so that's really all i need and i'm always grateful for it kjsdhgjksd
so overall i think i'm lucky that i have that kinda self assurance and comfort bc like, fearing how people will react to your art is one of the fastest paths to suppressing yourself and your creative instincts and it sucks a lot. but there are a lot of judgmental and closeminded people out there who can't accept that people have different tastes than them and it can be hard not to worry about people like that seeing your work and having something to say about it. but interacting with like minded people and trying to form a community with the same values goes a long way in finding people who will support you unconditionally and enthusiastically, and that seems to be the best way to stop caring what other people might think about your art!! "me and my 2 freak mutuals" will save you, trust me
✍️ fic writer asks
#thank you for sending an ask!!#ask games#like don’t get me wrong i want comments more than anything#and not getting them is a bummer#but i feel like i do move on from it pretty quickly when it happens and i wouldn’t say it discourages me#it’s more like#i thought this thing i wrote was rly good and i still think it’s rly good but i still wish for praise LOL#and also tbh i think if you have even ONE person#who just REALLY gets what you’re trying to accomplish and feels that you’ve accomplished it#nothing else could compare
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i just finished q’s vod from yesterday and honestly? i feel vindicated in my belief that q’s attraction to wilbur is based more around his romanticisation of relationships (and his grief for tilín, silent but ever present) than love
#again don’t get me wrong i think he’s attracted to wilbur but babygirl ia not in love with him#honestly this stream more than anything is making me read him as arospec#his little speech/breakdown where he cries and asks why he doesn’t feel anything#his comment about how maybe he needs to relearn what love means like sophia#comparing himself to a character who has expressed her inability to experience human emotions in the way that humans do#but who wants to learn anyway#i think people reading it as sadness solely about wilbur not actually being there are missing how much of his sadness is due to internal#feelings#he’s upset because he feels broken. because he feels like getting married should have fixed him#because he idealised the idea of marriage as soemthing that would make things better#ans when it didn’t and he felt as numb as ever he started crying#and he went and tried to seek out someone who would be able to understand him. someone who has expressed similar experiences: sophia#idk i just dont think qwilbur as a person actually plays a massive role in q’s emotions#it’s about his projections and his idealised notions crumbling around him#and leaving him alone again#maybe i’m projecting but i also find this dynamic more interesting than just q is sad because wilbur wasn’t actually there#quackity#qsmp
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and there it is folks!! The response to a youtube comment I was expecting!! I’m genuinely surprised it didn’t come sooner!!
#like no yeah I agree#my comment was a joke more than anything#they were nice about it though#they had yucky vibes don’t get me wrong#but like they weren’t rancid vibes y’know???#more of a ‘you seem like a very nice person that I do not want to be around’ type thing#anyway
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“give me all of that ultraviolence” | 2k
logan howlett x f!reader
SUMMARY: You give Logan head for the first time.
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ implied age gap. dirty talk. kind of inexperienced reader. oral sex (m receiving). face fucking. dom!logan. a tiny bit of degradation. he guides you through the whole experience (shocking!!! i know)
AUTHOR’S NOTE: HI PALS!!! yes i'm alive and kicking. yes university is killing me. so recently i’ve been OBSESSED with this man and i needed to write something for him. english is not my first language and i may have made some mistakes (if you encounter any you can tell me, i won't mind it). comments/likes/reblogs would be highly appreciated. i've got sooooo many ideas to write and i'm finally getting my hands on them. i missed you all so fucking much. hope you enjoy this!!!
It’s common knowledge that all humans have needs. Try as you may, there’s a primitive side that you can’t spare yourself from. You, as everybody else, have urges.
“Logan,” you basically mewl his name, five letters that roll off your tongue with little effort. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge you, his kisses growing harsher on the delicate skin of your neck. Threading your fingers through his hair, you decide to try again, speaking a bit louder this time. “Logan, please.”
“What is it, honey?” he says, bitten lips still pressed to your pulse point. As you remain silent, he looks up at you, those big, brown eyes that you love so dearly almost completely dark now. “Do you want to call it a day?”
His question catches you off-guard. You cup his face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones, suddenly afraid that he might pull away from you. “No! Not at all. That’s- that’s not what I want at all, actually.”
“What do you want, then? You can tell me,” he kisses you on the lips, softly at first. What starts as nothing more than a sweet kiss turns into a needier one, his hard on poking you through your shorts. “Come on. Tell me, baby. What does my sweet girl want?”
“I want to suck you off, Logan,” you whisper as you latch your mouth onto his, and you can feel how he visibly tenses beneath you. His breath hitches in his throat when you grind your hips. “I really need it.”
From the very beginning of your relationship, you had made things crystal clear: you didn’t have much experience on this territory. For a man his age, he was totally understanding. He knew you had your own times, that for him to take you to bed would take longer. Truth be told, Logan was willing to go to the ends of the world for you. There was no use in forcing anything.
At present, the bulge amid his legs becomes even more noticeable as you get off his lap, playing with his belt. “Can I?” you ask him, amazed at how straightforward you’re being.
Logan stares at you, so far panting, lust glowing in his eyes. “Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters as he helps you undress him. His worn out jeans end up pooling around his ankles, and you locate yourself in between his legs.
You’re on your knees, hands folded in front of you. Suddenly, it hits you, the shame of it all. How badly you want him, how desperate you are to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue. How many nights you’ve dreamt of this moment, unable to stop that unbearable need of touching yourself every time you thought about pleasuring him.
That’s what you truly want. For him to use you.
“What’s wrong, princess? We’ve talked about this a lot of times. You know what to do,” you can’t help but stare at his crotch as you listen to him, and then he raises your chin with his finger, your lips parting unconsciously. You blink slowly at him, eyelashes fluttering together. At last, he seems to understand what you’re trying to tell him, and he raises his eyebrows, that cocky grin of his taking place where it belongs. “You want me to guide you, don’t you? Want me to tell you what to do? Know you like it when I go a bit off the rails.”
You moan at his words, squeezing your eyes shut and nuzzling your cheek up against his palm. Slick gathers in your panties as you push your thighs together. “Please. Tell me what to do.”
“Take it out,” he instructs you, and you do as you’re told. Grabbing him by the base, you pull his cock out of his briefs. He twitches in your hand, and he’s so, so incredibly big.
You stroke him once, testing the feeling. This you know how to do. You’ve given him hand jobs millions of times, although this one feels particularly different from the others.
He takes hold of your fist, applying a bit of pressure. “I’m sorry, baby. I think you got it all wrong. I’m the one who makes the calls here, okay?” he grunts, his brows knitted, and you only nod, salivating at the sight of his cock already leaking precum at the tip. Logan licks his lips, curling his hand around yours. “You do as I say. Now, stroke me. Nice. And. Slow,” he punctuates each of his words by moving both your hand and his in unison around his length. “That’s it, darling. You just need someone to boss you around from time to time, ain’t I right?”
One thing to know about Logan: he’s so full of himself on a daily basis, but he just gets worse in bed.
“My mouth,” you hover your lips over the head of his cock, all shiny and soft. He has let you go, both of his arms now flexed behind his head, as if he were appreciating how pathetic you must look on your knees, begging for him to allow you to taste him. “Let me.”
“Not yet,” his hips follow your tormenting pace, seeking the warmth that your skin radiates. He grits his teeth, biting his lower lip. You’ve no idea how a man so strong can become putty in your hands like this. “Greedy girl. I’m beginning to think you’ve set me up. Only a slut would get so worked up about having a cock in her mouth. What happened to my innocent girl? Gone with the wind, huh?”
“Please, Lo. I need it so bad,” you are whining, peppering his thighs with kisses. You inhale his musky scent, getting dizzy. “Give it to me. I’ll be good.”
Out of nowhere, Logan grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to arch your back. He scrutinizes your face, studying your blissed out demeanor. “I don’t doubt that. I’m sure you’ll be good. Otherwise, we’ll keep on trying. We have all night, and you have a good memory, just need to put it to use,” as he taps your lower lip with his tip, you catch him smirking. He repeats that same motion until he has you shivering from the excitement of being stuffed. ”Show me how much you need it. Go easy on it at first, okay? Don’t want you choking beforehand.”
You’re more than happy to comply.
Your tongue darts out to lick at his head, enveloping it between your lips. The salty taste of his precum invades your tastebuds, and you moan as you trace the veins of his cock with the pad of your thumb. “Tastes so good, Lo,” your voice sounds distant, almost unrecognizable to your own ears.
“I know, bub. Such a nice fucking mouth, can’t believe you’ve never done this before. I guess you’re a natural,” shaky fingers place a strand of hair behind your ears, patting your head as if you were a dog in heat. “Do you feel like bobbing your head a little?” he asks you, and you prepare yourself, attaching your mouth to his head once again. “Good. That’s good.”
With that being said, Logan fists your hair once again and shoves your face down, his hard cock tickling your throat. Your whines and his rapid breaths are the only sounds to be heard in your bedroom. He grins as he takes in the sight of you. “Oh, sweetheart. You look so beautiful with your mouth stretched around me,” his index finger taps your cheek and he feels the outline of his own cock. “You know I can smell you, right? You’re fucking soaked, baby. Think you’ll leave a stain on the carpet? You’d clean it off with your tongue, wouldn’t you?”
You have no idea how he’s coming up with these things, but you’re far from annoyed. In fact, you’ve never been this wet. Your underwear must be ruined at this point, and you wish Logan would tell you to touch yourself.
After some minutes of bobbing your head up and down, he pulls you off his cock and you breathe through your mouth for the first time in a while. As you gasp for air, Logan kisses you, tasting himself. He massages the back of your neck, his cock throbbing between the two of you. “You tired?”
Your glossy eyes widen. Shaking your head, you go for his balls this time, sucking one of them while toying with the other. Logan buries his hands in your hair for what must be the hundredth time in the night, unable to stop himself. “F-fuck, that’s it. A pretty girl like you just gets what she needs,” he praises you, and you return to his length, taking as many inches as you can without hurting yourself. Tears shimmer in your eyes, yet you can’t bring yourself to care about that detail. You’re far too focused on Logan’s grunts and growls. “Keep that up and I’ll come. You heard me? You’re gonna make me fucking come, bub.”
His words ignite a fire inside you. You use your hands, your mouth, everything that you have to pleasure him. He’s getting closer and closer, thighs shaking when you pay special attention to his tip. Logan responds to each of your movements, and as you feel every coherent thought fly out the window, you try to take him all the way down your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. He cants his hips up, brutally fucking your mouth. Like a dog without a leash, Logan seems to get lost in the warmth that envelopes his cock, chasing his own release. “You’re such a good girl. My good girl. Nobody will fuck this mouth ever again. I’ll ruin you for any pathetic guy that tries to get in your pants. You’re fucking mine, darling. Oh, f-fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck-”
You’re met with his happy trail once he spills his hot load inside your mouth. He keeps you trapped there, his cock twitching and spamming through the aftershocks of his orgasm. You don’t think twice and swallow what he’s giving you. Some of his cum slips from your lips, falling directly onto the carpet. Even Logan seems surprised when he doesn’t stop coming.
He helps you stand up after a moment, kissing you as soon as he gets the chance. He licks into your mouth, squeezing the flesh of your hips. Logan lifts his eyebrows, relishing how cock-drunk you must look. “I think you nearly killed me. And that’s a lot to say coming from someone who cannot fucking die.”
You plaster a smile on your face, hugging his wide frame. “So, was I okay?”
His jaw goes slack, and he lowers his head to capture your lips in another kiss. “You were fantastic. I could easily get hard again just from thinking about it,” his fingers trace the buttons of your shirt, tugging at the fabric of it. “What if you let me focus on yourself for a while? You’ve already done enough, baby. Let me take care of you,” he rubs his hands on your thighs, reaching for your drenched panties. “Perhaps we could try something else today. That pussy’s begging to be fucked.”
dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)
#wolverine#the wolverine#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine fic#wolverine smut#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#x men#x men movies#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett fic#logan howlett smut#smut#james logan howlett#deadpool 3#wolverine x men#logan x reader#logan xmen#logan x you#logan james howlett#james howlett#logan wolverine#x men wolverine
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the story we won’t tell is my greatest fantasy ⟢ LN4
PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader
SUMMARY: seven years. you and lando had been together for seven years, but it all went down the drain the moment he decided to come clean about the mistake that he did.
REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.
WARNINGS: no use of y/n, breakup, cheating, cheater lando, pregnancy, secret child, mentions of nausea and vomiting, fainting, angst, open ending, math is not mathing (but i tried), some inaccuracies, named side characters (except for the reader), single!mom reader, and minor typographical errors
WORD COUNT: 7.2k
AUTHOR’S NOTE: this fic is inspired by niki’s song ‘apartment we won’t share,’ ik that we have diff interpretations for the songs, but i interpret it as the way how i wrote this fic. i’m not planning on doing a second part of this, and just leave it an open ending. but if someday i get inspired, i’ll try and make a part 2 for this, though for now, there will be no part 2 for this fic. i will be leaving the ending all up to you. you comments/reblogs is highly appreciated, and i hope that you’ll enjoy this one.
It had been a long and exhausting week. The lingering ache from your family emergency still tugged at your heart, so to keep off your mind from things, you had spent most of the day sorting through Lando’s things, folding clothes and making sure his suitcase was ready for his flight to another race weekend. It was the kind of task you had done so many times in the last seven years, but this time, it felt heavier, like there was something wrong that you couldn’t quite place.
When Lando returned to Monaco a few days later, you expected him to be his usual vibrant self, but something was off with him. Lando’s eyes seemed heavier, his posture slouched, and smile lacked the spark that you were used to.
“Hey, can we talk for a second?” he asked, voice unusually subdued.
You set down the shirt you had been folding, brows furrowing. “Sure, of course,” you replied, taking a seat on the couch. “What’s on your mind?”
Lando hesitated, hands fidgeting with the edge of his hoodie. He sat across from you, knees bouncing slightly as he stared at the floor. “You know I love you, right? More than anything.”
A faint smile crossed your lips. “I know, Lan, and you made sure to let me know everyday for seven years.”
He looked up briefly, gaze fleeting before dropping back to the floor. “I need to tell you something, I wanted to be completely honest with you…and it’s probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say.”
Your heart skipped a beat. Lando’s tone, demeanor—it was all wrong, and you were getting really nervous by now. “What is it?” you asked, voice quiet, wary.
Lando took a deep breath, his hands now gripping his knees as if to ground himself. “When I was out for a night with the guys a month ago…I messed up.”
Your stomach churned. You didn’t want to interrupt him, waiting for Lando to continue, though every fiber of your being wanted to scream at him, to demand some answers.
“There was…someone at the club that night,” he said, words slow and measured, like he was forcing them out of him. “It was stupid, an honest mistake. I was so drunk, caught up in everything, and I wasn’t thinking.”
You felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. “W-What are you saying?” you managed, voice barely above a whisper.
Lando finally looked at you, eyes glistening. “I accidentally slept with her. It was a one-time thing, I swear, then she called me last week—I don’t even know how she got my number, but she told me that she’s pregnant.
Pregnant.
The words hit you like a freight train. You stared at him, mind completely blank, unable to process what he had just said. Tears began to blur your vision, but you didn’t wipe them away.
“Lando…” you tried to speak up, but your voice cracked.
“I didn’t know how to tell you,” he said, voice shaking. “I didn’t know what to do. All I could think about was how much I’ve hurt you. But I can’t let my kid grow up without a family. I know how much family means to you, to me. I have to be there for them.”
Your heart shattered into pieces. You could see how much Lando was struggling, the guilt etched into every line of his face. But the pain of his betrayal was unbearable.
“I don’t…I don’t have anything to say anymore, honestly,” you said finally, voice trembling. “Because you had already made your decision—you’re choosing them.”
Lando shook his head vehemently. “No! No, I’m not choosing anyone over you. You’re the love of my life. That hasn’t changed and never will.”
“Lando, you can’t have both,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “I can’t stay here knowing all of these. I can’t be a part of this.”
He reached out as if to touch you, but you recoiled. You couldn’t bear his touch right now. “Please love,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I love you. I don’t ever want to lose you.”
“You already have,” you said softly, standing up and wiping your tears. “I won’t hold you back, Lando. You need to do what’s right for your child. They deserve a family, and I will not be the reason why they don’t have one.”
You walked to your shared bedroom, your movements mechanical as you began packing your things. Every item you placed in your suitcase felt like a dagger to your chest. This apartment had been your home, your safe haven, and now it was just a place you needed to escape from. Lando just stood in the doorway, watching you pack all of your things, his face pale and tear-streaked. He didn’t try to stop you—he knew that he couldn’t.
When you zipped up your suitcase and grabbed your bag, you turned to him one last time. “Take care of both of them,” you said, voice barely audible. “Be the father they need.
With that, you walked out of the apartment, out of the life you and Lando had built together. You had loved him for seven years, trusted him with every piece of your heart. But now, all you had was the emptiness of what could have been.
The crisp night air bit at your skin as you stood by the entrance of the apartment building, clutching the handle of your suitcase. Your ride to the airport was just a few minutes away, but the wait felt eternal. You stared blankly at the sidewalk, mind is a chaotic mess, the weight of everything that had happened tonight pressing heavily on your chest.
You heard familiar voices approaching before you saw them, their cheerful tones instantly recognizable. Quickly, you wiped at your cheeks, hoping your red-rimmed eyes wouldn’t give you away. Plastering on a smile, you turned towards Max and Kelly as they walked towards the entrance, hand in hand, their expressions bright despite the late hour.
“Hey! What are you doing out here so late?” Kelly asked, brows knitting in concern as she noticed the two large suitcases beside you.
You hesitated, forcing your smile to stay in place. “I, uh, have a family emergency,” you lied smoothly, voice steady even though your heart was pounding. “I need to head back home for a bit.”
Max tilted his head slightly, sharp blue eyes scanning you with the protective gaze you had come to know so well over the years. “Two large suitcases for just a quick trip? That seems a bit much,” he remarked lightly, though his tone carried a hint of suspicion.
You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “It’s just…really complicated right now. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, so I packed extra, just in case.”
Kelly’s hand tightened on Max’s arm as she stepped closer to you, her concern evident. “Is Lando not home right now? Why didn’t you tell us earlier? We could’ve helped you pack, we can drive you to the airport.”
You shook your head quickly. “Lan’s already sleeping and I hate to wake him up, he just recently got back from his trip. I also didn’t want to bother you, I’ve already called a car, and it should be here any minute.”
They exchanged a look, clearly unconvinced but respectful enough not to press you further. “Well, we’re not leaving you out here alone,” Max said firmly. “We’ll wait with you until your ride gets here.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but the determined set of his jaw told you it would all be just pointless. Instead, you nodded, grateful for their presence even as it made it harder to hold yourself together.
Kelly gave you a warm smile, trying to ease the tension. “It’s late, but P was asking about you earlier,” she said softly. “She’s been begging to have another day with her favorite Auntie.”
Your heart clenched at the mention of Penelope, and you forced your smile to widen. “I’ll miss her so much,” you said, voice thick despite your best efforts. “Tell her I’ll see her soon.”
Kelly’s brow furrowed slightly at your words, but before she could say anything, your ride had pulled up to the curb. Relief and dread washed over you in equal measure. Max then stepped forward immediately, grabbing your suitcases with ease.
“I’ll load these up for you,” he said, tone gruff but kind.
“Thank you,” you murmured, watching as he placed your suitcases in the trunk of the car.
When Max turned back, Kelly pulled you into a tight hug, her familiar perfume bringing a rush of bittersweet comfort. “Take care of yourself, okay?” she whispered. “Whatever’s going on, we’re here for you.”
You nodded against her shoulder, your throat too tight to respond. When she pulled away, Max had stepped forward, wrapping you in a hug that was strong and protective, just like he always was.
“Be back soon, okay? P will be missing her favorite Aunt.” he said, chuckling. “If you need anything, you call me or Kelly. No excuses.”
“I will,” you promised, though you knew that you wouldn’t.
As you stepped back, Kelly offered you a gentle smile. “When you get back, P will be so excited to see you again. You know how much she loves spending time with you.”
The lump in your throat grew, and you could only nod in response. You managed a faint smile as you climbed into the car, giving them one final wave.
“Safe travels,” Kelly called out as Max closed the door for you.
You watched them through the window, standing together on the curb, their figures illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. They waved as the car pulled away, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wave back again. Instead, you turned your gaze forward, the city lights blurring through the tears that silently slid down your cheeks.
You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.
When you finally arrived back home, the weight of the long hour of flight clung to you like a heavy fog. You dragged your suitcases through the familiar front door, exhaustion etched into every inch of your body. The warm, welcoming scent of your childhood home did little to comfort you, instead, it only amplified the ache in your chest. All you wanted was to collapse into your bed and wake up to a world where none of this had ever happened—a world where your heart wasn’t shattered into pieces. But this was your reality, as cruel as it was.
You definitely hadn’t anticipated seeing your older sister, Noelle, and her husband, Mike, in the living room, seated across from your mother, their laughter filling the space. The sound abruptly stopped when they noticed you standing in the doorway, your pale face and tired eyes a huge giveaway of the turmoil you tried so desperately to hide.
“What are you doing here?” Noelle asked, rising from her seatc brows knitting together in concern. “You didn’t tell us that you were coming home.”
Noelle’s brows knit together as she took in your disheveled appearance, her sharp eyes catching every detail—dark circles under your eyes, stiffness in your movements, and the forced smile you mustered.
“Yeah,” you replied quietly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I, uh, needed to come home for a bit.”
Your mother rose from her seat as well, concern etched into her features. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” she asked softly, gaze darting between you and the suitcases you had left by the door.
You hesitated, throat tightening. You had been dreading this moment, knowing full well how much your family adored Lando so much. They had welcomed him with open arms from the start, treating him as one of their own. Now, you were about to break their hearts almost as much as he had broken yours.
“It’s nothing,” you said, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I just needed a change of scenery, that’s all.”
Noelle stood, arms crossed as she gave you a pointed look. “Don’t give me that kind of excuse. You don’t just show up unannounced looking like this for no reason. What really happened?”
You swallowed hard, avoiding Noelle’s gaze. “Lando and I broke up,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.
The whole room fell silent, the weight of your words sinking in. Your mother’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide with shock. “Oh, my darling sweetheart,” she breathed.
Noelle, however, was not so subdued. “What?” she exclaimed, voice rising. “What do you mean you broke up? What happened? Did he do something stupid?”
“No!” you said quickly, shaking your head. “No, it wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like?” she pressed, tone sharp.
You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay composed. “We just…fell out of love. The both of us,” you said, hating the words even as you said then. “We’ve been together for so long, and I guess we just realized that we weren’t the same people years ago anymore. It didn’t make sense to keep on pretending, we’ll just end up hurting ourselves in the long run.”
Noelle’s eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced. “That doesn’t sound like Lando at all. The man adores you so much, even worships the ground you walk on.”
“He did,” you said softly, chest tightening. “And I adored him too. But people change, feelings change.”
Your mother stepped closer, her hands reaching for yours. “Are you sure this is what you wanted?” she asked gently.
You nodded, the lump in your throat growing. “It’s for the best,” you lied, voice cracking slightly.
Mike, who had been silent until now, placed a hand on Noelle’s shoulder. “If this is what she’s decided, we should respect it,” he said quietly, giving you a small, understanding nod.
Noelle just sighed, clearly torn between pressing you for further information and letting it go. Finally, she relented, though her expression was still skeptical.
“I just don’t want you to regret this,” she said, voice more softer now. “You two were so good together.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep you from breaking down. “I’ll be okay, eventually,” you said, words hollow.
Your mother pulled you into a tight embrace, her warmth briefly soothing the ache in your chest. “Whatever happens, we’re always here for you,” she murmured.
“Thanks, mommy,” you whispered, blinking back tears.
As you pulled away, your sister gave you a long look, her expression unreadable. “If he hurt you—” she started, but you cut her off.
“He didn’t,” you said firmly, voice steady despite the storm inside you. “It just didn’t work out. That’s all.”
Noelle still didn’t look convinced, but she nodded, clearly sensing that there’s more to it, and you didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “Alright,” she said quietly. “But if you ever want to talk, I’m here, okay? We’re all here.”
You gave her a small smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes like it used to. “Thank you,” you said, words barely audible.
Excusing yourself, you retreated to your old bedroom, closing the door behind you gently and sinking onto the comfort of your bed. The familiar surroundings brought no comfort, only a stark reminder of the life you had left behind. While you lay down, staring at the ceiling, the tears finally came, silent and unrelenting.
You had still protected Lando from your family’s anger, even though he did not deserve any of it, and now, you were left to pick up the pieces alone.
The Nausea hits you like clockwork every morning. You found yourself rushing to the bathroom, stomach twisting in protest against seemingly nothing. It had started a few weeks ago, and though you had initially dismissed it as a lingering flu or perhaps the stress with work finally catching up to you, it was becoming harder to ignore. Rest didn’t seem to help you, but you assured yourself that it wasn’t that serious. Besides, you have work to focus on, and that was enough to keep your mind occupied, most of the time.
Two months had already passed since you had left Monaco for good, and life had begun to settle into a new rhythm. Yes, the ache in your chest was still there, but it had been dulled into something manageable. You were slowly rebuilding yourself, piece by piece, though the nausea was an unwelcome distraction.
It was a normal afternoon, while you were curled up on the beanbag chair in your bedroom after a long and tiring day, your phone buzzed. The caller ID that was displayed on the screen made your breath catch for a moment—Kelly. You hesitated before answering, already bracing yourself for the conversation. Her face appeared on the screen, bright and concerned.
“Finally, I caught you!” she said with a smile, though her tone was tinged with worry. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”
You shook your head, chuckling and offered her a small smile. “I’m so sorry, Kelly. Things have been so busy with me lately.”
Kelly’s brow furrowed slightly as she studied your face. “You look tired. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, it’s just a silly flu,” you said quickly, but the faint edge in your voice didn’t go unnoticed.
“Don’t lie to me,” she said gently. “Max and I found out about it already, about you and Lando.”
Your chest tightened, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “Oh.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked, expression softening. “We would’ve been there for you. You’ve been through this all alone.”
You sighed, your shoulders sagging. “I didn’t want to drag anyone else into the mess, and I didn’t even know what to say.”
Kelly’s voice grew firmer. “You didn’t have to say anything, we would’ve understood. Max is furious with Lando, you know. So is Carlos. I even have to break the two of them away from Lando.”
Your heart sank at the thought. “Please don’t be mad at him. It’s not worth it.”
Kelly shook her head, lips pressing into a thin line. “It is worth it. What Lando did to you was unforgivable. You didn’t deserve any of that.”
“It’s okay,” you murmured, though the words felt hollow. “I’ll move on, eventually.”
Kelly’s expression softened again, and she leaned closer to the camera. “I just wish you’d let us help you. You know we love you, right? You’ve always been family to us.”
“I know,” you whispered, tears pricking at your eyes.
Her face brightened slightly. “But speaking of family, someone’s been dying to talk to you!”
Before you could respond, the screen shifted, and Penelope’s little face appeared, her eyes lighting up when she saw you. “AUNTIE!” she exclaimed, voice high with excitement.
”Hi, P!” You said, heart aching at the sight of her.
“I miss you so much!” she said, pouting slightly. “When are you coming back? Mommy says you’re not in Monaco anymore.”
You hesitated, unsure of how to explain. “I miss you too, darling. I just…I had to be somewhere else for a while.”
“But you’ll come back, right?” she asked, her big eyes staring at you expectantly.
You swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “We’ll see, P. For now, you have to be good for your mommy and Maxie, okay?”
“I’m always good!” she declared, puffing out her chest.
Kelly’s voice chimed in from the background. “That’s debatable,” she teased, earning a giggle from Penelope.
You couldn’t help but smile, even as your chest tightened. “You’re the best, P. Don’t ever forget that.”
“Okay!” she said brightly before turning to Kelly. “Mommy, can we call Auntie again tomorrow?”
Kelly returned to the screen, giving you a knowing look. “We’ll let her rest for now, P. But yes, we’ll call Auntie again soon.”
“Promise?” Penelope asked, her eyes wide.
“Promise,” Kelly said, smiling before turning back to you. “Take care of yourself, okay? And if you need anything, anything, just call me.”
You nodded. “Thank you so much, Kelly. I will.”
After ending your facetime call with Kelly, you stumbled into the bathroom, your stomach churning violently. The moment you stepped inside, you collapsed in front of the toilet, heaving uncontrollably. It felt as though your insides were twisting, every muscle tensing in protest. When it finally subsided, you shakily wiped your mouth, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You looked pale—paler than usual, and eyes were bloodshot from the strain.
It took you a couple of minutes to compose yourself before heading to the kitchen, hoping the water would help settle your spinning head. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, you poured the water, but as you lifted it to your lips, another wave of dizziness hit you. This time, it was stronger. Your grip faltered, and the glass slipped from your hand, shattering loudly as it hit the floor.
The sharp noise brought Noelle and Mike running into the kitchen. They froze when they saw you swaying on your feet, barely managing to stay upright. You blinked, trying to focus, but everything around you was growing hazier. Before you could say anything, your legs gave way beneath you, and you crumpled to the floor, your vision blackening as you began to lose consciousness. Noelle was by your side in an instant, her hands gentle but urgent as she checked your pulse.
“Don’t worry, she’s alive,” Noelle muttered, voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. “Mike, call an ambulance now!”
Mike didn’t hesitate, rushing to grab his phone and calling for help. You could hear Mike’s voice in the background, muffled and frantic as he spoke to the operator.
“Yes, we need an ambulance,” Mike said, tone clipped, almost too calm for the situation. “My sister-in-law collapsed, and we need help immediately.”
Noelle’s voice cut through your haze, trying to keep you steady. “Come on, stay with me, okay? Just hold on.”
You couldn’t respond, couldn’t even make a sound, but you could hear them both, voices blending with the rush of adrenaline in the air. Mike’s footsteps moved swiftly, his voice growing more distant as he spoke with the ambulance on the phone.
The minutes that followed felt like hours. The sound of the ambulance siren grew louder, and relief flooded Noelle’s face as the paramedics rushed into the house. They quickly assessed the situation, asking Noelle questions about your symptoms and recent health conditions.
“She’s been experiencing dizziness for weeks now,” Noelle explained. “She’s stubborn, didn’t want to see a doctor. This morning she was nauseous, and now she’s fainted.”
The paramedics nodded, lifting you onto the stretcher carefully. Noelle and Mike followed closely as they carried you out to the ambulance. “I’m coming with her to the hospital,” Noelle said firmly, climbing into the back of the ambulance without hesitation.
Mike stayed behind, watching the ambulance doors close with a worried expression. “Alright, I’ll be informing your mother when she arrives, but call me as soon as you know something,” he said to Noelle before they drove off.
Inside the ambulance, Noelle held your hand tightly, her fingers trembling against your own. “You’re going to be fine,” she said, though her voice was thick with concern. “Just breathe, okay? We’re almost there.”
You couldn’t focus on what Noelle was saying. The world had gone dark around you, only the pulse of your own heartbeat reminding you that you were still there, still fighting to stay conscious.
The steady beeping of the machines was the first thing you registered as you slowly opened your eyes, the sterile smell of the hospital room making everything feel surreal. Blinking against the harsh fluorescent light, your gaze landed on your sister, Noelle, sitting in one of the chairs beside your bed, her expression a mixture of worry and relief when she noticed you stirring.
“Noelle,” you croaked, voice hoarse from sleep and dryness.
She shot up almost instantly, coming to your side and helping you adjust into a sitting position in the hospital bed. Her hands were gentle but firm as she propped a pillow behind your back.
“Hey, take it easy, okay?” she said softly. She reached for a bottle of water on the bedside table, unscrewing the cap before handing it to you. “Here, drink up. Small sips.”
You followed her instructions, taking slow, careful sips, the cool water soothing your parched throat. “What happened? Why am I in the hospital?” you asked weakly, mind still foggy.
“You fainted in the kitchen,” Noelle explained, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You scared the hell out of us. Mike called the ambulance, and I came with you here. Mom and Mike are both on their way. They’ll be here soon.”
Before you could respond, there was a knock at the door, a doctor entered, her expression professional but kind. Noelle immediately stepped aside, letting her approach you.
“I’m glad that you’re awake now, my dear,” she began, smiling at you. “We’ve run some tests to determine the cause of your fainting and other symptoms.”
You nodded slowly, stomach churning with apprehension. Noelle moved closer to your side, her presence grounding you.
“We’ve reviewed your results,” she continued, glancing at her clipboard before meeting your eyes. “The dizziness, nausea, and vomiting you’ve been experiencing for the past weeks are all consistent with early pregnancy symptoms. Congratulations, you’re seven weeks pregnant!”
Pregnant. Pregnant.
For a moment, the words did not register. The hospital room seemed to grow impossibly still, the doctor’s voice fading into the background as you processed the news. Seven weeks. The timeline clicked into place, and your heart sank as realization hit. Seven weeks pregnant. You could hear the faint ringing in your ears, a sharp contrast to the quiet gasp from Noelle beside you.
“I…I’m sorry, what?” you managed to stammer, voice shaking.
“You’re pregnant, dear,” the doctor repeated gently. “Seven weeks along. Your vitals look good, but it’s important to start prenatal care as soon as possible. We’ve referred you to an OB-GYN who will guide you through the process and answer any questions you might have.”
You nodded numbly, unable to form any coherent response. The doctor continued to explain what you should expect in the coming weeks—dietary recommendations, plenty of rest, and the importance of regular check-ups. But her words felt very distant, as if you were hearing them through a fog.
When the doctor finally left, you were left staring blankly at the sterile white wall, the weight of the revelation crushing you. Seven weeks. You did the math in your head, mind racing. By now, you know that the woman Lando had gotten pregnant would be around three months into pregnancy.
Tears began to well up in your eyes, the enormity of the situation was starting to overwhelm you. You were carrying Lando’s child. That man had broken and shattered your heart into pieces, and who had chosen someone else, was now bound to you in a way that you could not escape.
“Noelle,” you whispered, voice breaking.
She knelt beside the bed, taking your trembling hands in hers. “I’m here. Don’t worry, I’m here, okay?” she said softly, her tone steady and reassuring.
“I don’t know what to do,” you cried, tears streaming down your face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. How am I supposed to handle this?”
Noelle’s grip on your hands tightened slightly, eyes full of concern. “I don’t have all the answers,” she admitted, “but you don’t have to go through this alone. Whatever you decide to do, I’ll be here for you—Mom and Mike, too. We’ll all figure this out together, okay?”
Two years had already passed, and your life was a world away from where it had been. Astrid, your little ray of sunshine, was turning two today. She was the center of your universe, your whole life, her giggles filling every corner of the house you had worked so hard to call your own. It was a beautiful home, just three doors away from your mother’s home, ensuring that Astrid was always surrounded by the love and warmth of your family.
Noelle and Mike, ever the doting aunt and uncle, spoiled her endlessly. They brought over toys, books, and clothes—sometimes more than you thought Astrid needed, but you couldn’t deny the happiness on Astrid’s face when they arrived with surprise in hand.
It’s true that your pregnancy and the early days of motherhood had not been easy, but you were able to survive. More than that, you thrived. With a promotion to a top position at work and a comfortable life for you and Astrid, you finally felt at peace. The past—Lando, was no longer a wound, but now a distant memory you had learned to accept. Your family also had long stopped asking questions about the details of your breakup, and while they knew Lando was Astrid’s father, they never dwelled on it. Astrid had all the love she needed, and that was what mattered most.
But there was one part of your life you had not reconciled yet—Max and Kelly. Despite keeping in touch with Kelly through regular facetime calls, you had managed to keep Astrid a secret. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust them, it was just too complicated to explain everything. It was already enough that they found out what Lando had done that caused your breakup.
However, when Kelly had mentioned that they would be spending their vacation in your home country and would be arriving the day before Astrid’s second birthday, you had a window of opportunity. It was time to take a step forward. So you had invited them to what you described as a simple gathering at your home. You didn’t explicitly tell them that it would be Astrid’s birthday party—just that it would be a chance to catch up and spend time together.
As the day drew closer, you found yourself torn between excitement and anxiety. What would they say when they realized the gathering that you had talked about was actually a celebration for your daughter? Would they feel hurt that you had kept Astrid a secret for so long?
These thoughts lingered as you finalized the decorations, baked Astrid’s favorite cake, and prepared the house for your guests. But when you looked at Astrid, happily playing with her toys in the living room, the doubt began to fade. This was your life now—a life filled with love and laughter, even if it was different from what you had once imagined.
The backyard was a colorful dream, adorned with streamers, balloons, and a banner that read, Happy 2nd Birthday! and Astrid’s favorite colors painted every corner of the space, and the laughter of children filled the air as they played games and ran around laughing. Astrid herself was the picture of happiness, twirling in her pretty dress, a bright smile on her face as she clung to her grandmother’s hand.
You excused yourself from the backyard, your hands brushing against your dress nervously as you stepped back into the kitchen to double-check the desserts. Rows of cupcakes sat neatly on the counter, each one topped with swirls of frosting and sprinkles. You picked one up, turning it slightly to make sure everything was perfect. Then the doorbell rang.
Your heart skipped a beat, a wave of nerves rushing through you. It had to be Max, Kelly, and Penelope. You wiped your hands on a towel, took a deep breath, and walked to the front door, steadying yourself before opening it. The moment you opened the door, cheerful shouts of ‘surprise!’ had greeted you. Kelly was the first to throw her arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug.
“It’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed, stepping back as Max swooped in for a hug.
“You’ve been hiding!” Max teased lightly, squeezing your shoulder before stepping aside to let Penelope in.
“Hi Auntie!” Penelope chirped, small arms wrapping tightly around your waist as she hugged you with all her might.
You bent down to her level, pulling her into a proper hug. “Hi, darling. I missed you so much!”
Penelope pulled back, her face beaming. “I missed you too, Auntie! Can I see your house?”
Before you could respond, the sound of children’s laughter drifted in from the backyard, catching their attention. Kelly tilted her head curiously.
“What’s going on back there?” she asked, brows furrowed. “That sounds like a lot of kids.”
Max glanced at you, an eyebrow raised. “Is this the simple gathering you mentioned?”
A nervous smile tugged at your lips as you stepped back, gesturing for them to follow. “Come on, follow me.”
You led them through the hallway and out through the glass doors that lead to the backyard, where the yard was buzzing with activity. Children were playing games, some of them are having the time of their life on the bouncy castle, parents chatted near the tables of food, and Astrid was in the middle of it all, her laughter carrying above the noise.
Penelope gasped in delight. “Can I please go play?” she asked, bouncing on her toes as she looked up at Max and Kelly.
Kelly nodded with a smile. “Of course, go ahead.”
Penelope dashed off, her excitement blending seamlessly with the other children. Kelly and Max, however, stood frozen, their eyes scanning the scene. It wasn’t long before they realized that this was not just any gathering.
“Is this…” Kelly began, voice trailing off.
“A birthday party?” Max finished for her, tone laced with confusion.
You nodded slowly, your smile nervous. “Yes. Actually,” you glanced at Astrid, who was now in your mother’s arms, laughing as your mother tickled her sides. “It’s her birthday party.”
Their confusion deepened as they followed your gaze. Max opened his mouth to speak, but Kelly beat him to it. “Her?” she asked, voice soft, almost uncertain.
Taking a deep breath, you walked over to your mother and gently took Astrid from her arms. Astrid immediately snuggled into your shoulder, her tiny hands clutching at your dress as she peeked at the newcomers. Turning back to Max and Kelly, you smiled, though your heart was racing.
“Guys, this is Astrid,” you said softly. “My daughter.”
For a moment, there was only silence as Max and Kelly processed your words. Kelly’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide, while Max stared at you, his expression a mix of shock and something deeper.
“You have a daughter?” Kelly finally asked, voice trembling slightly.
You nodded, holding Astrid a little tighter. “I do.”
Max’s voice was careful, almost cautious. “Where’s her father?”
The question hung heavy in the air, heavy and unspoken truths lingering just beneath the surface. You looked down at Astrid, avoiding Max’s gaze as you shifted your weight uncomfortably.
“He’s…not in the picture anymore,” you said quietly.
Max’s eyes narrowed slightly, jaw tightening. It was clear he had pieced everything together, but decided not to press further. Instead, his gaze softened as he looked at Astrid, who was now peering curiously at him. Kelly stepped forward, her initial shock melting into warmth.
“Can I hold her?” she asked gently.
You nodded, carefully handing Astrid over. Kelly cradled her as if she had been waiting for this moment forever, her face lighting up as Astrid stared at her with wide, curious eyes.
“She’s so beautiful,” Kelly murmured, voice thick with emotion.
Max crouched down slightly to Astrid’s level, his serious expression softening. “Hey there, little one,” he said, playfully covering his eyes with his hands and then revealing them. “Peekaboo!”
Astrid blinked at him, tiny lips began curling into a smile as Max covered his face with his hand again and revealed it with a loud ‘boo!’ Astrid’s laughter was immediate and infectious, filling the air and making Max grin wider.
“She likes you,” Kelly said with a laugh, glancing at Max as she bounced Astrid gently.
Max looked up, his expression a mix of amusement and something more tender. “What can I say? Kids love me.”
Penelope had run up to you with little Astrid in tow, face glowing with excitement. “Auntie, can Astrid play with me? I promise that I’ll take care of her,” she said, her little hands clasped together as she gave you the most earnest look.
You smiled, crouching down to their level. “Alright,” you said gently, brushing a strand of hair out of Astrid’s face. “But remember, she’s still very small, so be careful with her, okay?”
“I promise!” Penelope chirped. “Come on Astrid, let’s play!” she took Astrid’s hand and led her back towards the group of children.
Once they were settled, you turned to Max and Kelly, who were waiting nearby, their expressions a mix of curiosity and seriousness. You gestured towards the patio table, and the three of you moved to sit down. For a brief moment, there was an awkward silence, only broken by the distant sound of children laughing.
It was Max who spoke first. “So,” he began, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, “are you going to tell Lando about Astrid?”
“No.” you said firmly, meeting his gaze.
Kelly’s brows furrowed. “No?” she repeated, voice a mix of confusion and concern. “You don’t plan on telling him that he has a daughter?”
“Telling him that he has a daughter is not included in my plans,” you said quietly, glancing briefly at Astrid, who was now sitting on the grass with Penelope, giggling as they played.
Max exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. “But why?” he asked, voice steady but tinged with disbelief. “Don’t you think he has the right to know?”
You looked at Max, expression calm but resolute. “He had already made his choice and I made mine,” you said softly. “By the time I found out that I was pregnant, he was already committed to building a life with someone else—for their child. I’m not that ignorant, I’ve seen the articles, Max. It’s clear as daylight that he’s happy with them, he’s being the father that the child needs.”
Max sighed. “This isn’t about the articles or public perception. It’s about Astrid. She has the right to know who her father is, and Lando has a right to know about her.”
Kelly nodded in agreement with what had Max just said. “And what happens when she grows up and starts asking questions?”
“I’ll tell Astrid,” you said. “I’ll tell her when the time is right, I’ll explain everything to her. But for now, I’m protecting her. I don’t want her to feel like she was a second thought or an obligation. I don’t want to make her feel unwanted.”
Max shook his head slightly. “It’s not fair to Astrid, or to Lando,” he said, voice low. “He deserves to know. He deserves the chance to be a part of her life.”
“And what if Lando doesn’t want to be a part of her life, Max?” you said, voice cracking slightly and gripping the edge of the table. “What if yes, I ended up telling him, and he rejected her? What if I ruin the good thing he has now, for nothing? I’m not going to be the person who will bring chaos to my daughter’s life by trying to force something that might not even work, and I most definitely won't be the one who will tear Lando’s life apart just to ease my conscience.”
Kelly reached out, placing a hand gently on yours. “I understand that you’re scared,” she said softly. “And I understand why you’ve made your choice. But you don’t have to do this alone. Whatever you decide, we’ll support you. But please, just think about it, okay?”
You nodded, though you knew that your decision was firm and wouldn’t change. “Thank you,” you said quietly, looking between Max and Kelly. “I just need you both to trust me on this one. Trust that I’m doing what’s best for Astrid.”
Max hesitated, then finally nodded. “We’ll be keeping this just between the three of us,” he said, though there was a note of reluctance in his voice. “But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find us.”
Kelly smiled faintly, her grip on your hand tightening briefly before she let go. “Astrid is lucky to have you as her mother,” she said, voice warm. “She’s amazing and gorgeous, you know. She’s already so full of life.”
You smiled softly at Kelly’s words. “She is,” you said. “She really is.”
Glancing back towards the yard, you watched Astrid and Penelope play together, the sound of Astrid’s uncontrollable laughter filled the air, warming your heart in a way that words could never even describe. Her happiness was infectious, an important reminder of everything good in your life despite the path it had taken to get where you are now. But as your eyes lingered on her, there was a familiar ache that settled deep in your chest.
You couldn’t deny it—Astrid’s features were very unmistakable. Her eyes, so full of wonder and innocence, were a mirror image of Lando’s. Every now and then, when she turned her head a certain way or smiled just so, it was like seeing a glimpse of Lando again. The resemblance was undeniable, and it only grew stronger as Astrid got older. It was a bittersweet reality you carried with you every day.
Yet, despite the pain that came with those reminders, you were happy. Truly, deeply happy. Astrid was surrounded by love—a love so abundant that it filled every corner of her little world. She didn’t need anything else, not when you, your whole family, and everyone who cherished her. That love was enough, it had to be enough.
Letting Lando go was not easy. It had taken every ounce of strength you had to accept that the life you once imagined with him was not meant to be. But you had done it, you had learned to let him go. You had made peace with the fact that you were not the one he chose, and the woman you would never be was the one who was not his.
Someday, you knew, the time might come when you were ready to tell Lando about Astrid, ready to introduce him to the child you both brought into this world. But that day was not today. For now, you would let him continue living the life he had chosen, with the person he had chosen. You wished him nothing but happiness, even if it wasn’t with you.
You also hoped that Lando would one day find everything he was searching for, that he would feel fulfilled and content in the life he was building. Even if it hurts, you wanted that for him, and while he was busy living that life, the daughter you both would not raise together would still be here—waiting for him, even if he didn’t know it yet.
The breakup, heartache, and the choices you made were not what you had wanted, but they were what you needed. Sometimes, it’s hard to accept the fact that love is not enough to keep two people together, and that’s okay. It didn’t make the love you once shared with Lando any less real.
But for now, everything else could wait.
#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#lando norris#lando norris 4#ln4#lando norris fic#lando norris one shot#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris oneshot#lando norris angst#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris x female!reader#ln4 one shot#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 angst
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🌹Surrender❄️
♡︎ synopsis: Sylus and Zayne show you that you can't get away with lying.
♡︎ pairing: Sylus x fem!reader x Zayne
♡︎ tags: barely any plot, mfm dynamic, oral (both male and female receiving), orgasm denial, dvp
♡︎ word count: 5.5k
♡︎ a/n: this fic is part of the Secret Santa Fic Exchange event made by @nanamiscocksleeve and I wrote for @laddelulu30 . It was challenging ngl, but I had fun and I hope you'll like it!
♡︎ Thank you to my dearest friend and my beta reader♡︎@its-de♡︎ for helping. divider by @anitalenia
The car hums softly, the tension inside it palpable. Zayne’s hands grip the wheel, his hazel green eyes fixed on the road ahead, occasionally glancing into the rearview mirror. In the back seat, Sylus sits with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You sit beside him, looking out the window, twisting the damp hem of your shirt as you can feel Sylus’ glare on you.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Zayne’s calm voice breaks the silence.
You hesitate, your gaze dropping to your lap. “It wasn’t planned,” you mumble. “My friend called last minute... I didn’t think it’d be a big deal.”
Sylus shifts beside you, leaning closer. “You didn’t think lying about being at a coffee shop might be a big deal? Or leaving your location on so I’d find out anyway?”
You stiffen, guilt tightening your throat. “I thought both of you were busy and it was just easier that way.”
Sylus scoffs. “Easier? For who? You, sneaking out? Or us, finding out you’re not in your apartment like we thought?”
“Sylus,” Zayne interjects, his eyes flick to the mirror, catching yours. “This isn’t about the coffee shop, or even going out. It’s about trust. We can’t keep you safe if we don’t know where you are.”
The word trust stings more than Sylus’ sharper tone. Your fingers clench tighter around your sleeve, twisting the fabric until it wrinkles under your grip. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything,” you say with a lump in your throat. “My friend needed me tonight. She just got out of a bad relationship, and wanted to go out.”
Sylus presses further. “And when it got dangerous? What then? You knew enough to text me—why not just tell me the truth from the start?”
Zayne’s grip on the wheel tightens. “Do you know what went through my head when Sylus told me you weren’t home?” he asks, his voice quieter now. “When I saw where you were? You’re lucky we got there in time.”
Your throat tightens, and you glance out the window as you mumble, “I didn’t think it’d turn into such a mess.”
Zayne exhales slowly, and you can see Sylus in the corner of your eye shaking his head. You know you’re in the wrong and that you made a few stupid decisions tonight, but your pride is not letting you admit it.
The car slows to a stop at a drive-thru, and you hear Sylus grumbling under his breath.
“This place again?”
You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips when you catch Zayne roll his eyes before answering. “Yes, it’s the only nearby place that works at this hour.”
Sylus sighs dramatically but complies, rattling off an order as though it’s beneath him.
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
The apartment greets you with its familiar scent and warmth. What also greets you is pieces of clothing and makeup scattered around the living room. You’re sure your boyfriends noticed the mess, but you’re surprised no one made a single comment as they made their way to the kitchen. You take off your shoes and join them.
Sylus places the bag of food onto the table, his gaze flicking toward you. “Are those the new jeans?” he asks.
Caught off guard, you glance down at yourself, smoothing your hands over the denim. “Uh, yeah.”
“Told you they’d look good,” he says, leaning back against the table, his arms crossing over his chest. The way he says it makes your cheeks warm.
Before you can respond, Zayne’s voice cuts in, giving you the same compliment. He steps closer, his eyes softening as they glance over you. Tonight, their attention makes you more flustered than usual, so you thank them, your cheeks burning, and you busy yourself with helping Zayne unpack the food.
The three of you engage in small talk as you eat the late-night meal, the earlier tension from the car ride dissipating with each bite. Despite his complaints, Sylus cleans his plate with the efficiency of someone who secretly enjoyed it.
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Remnants of the day washed away after the shower, the three of you settle on the sofa to watch a movie. Zayne and you slipped into pajamas while Sylus put on a shirt and sweatpants he kept in your apartment. As you sink into the sofa, the warmth of their presence surrounds you. You cover yourself with a blanket, nestling into the space between them. Sylus leans in to press a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering just long enough to send a small shiver through you. “Comfortable?” he murmurs, his voice low and warm.
You nod, your cheeks warming as Zayne reaches for your hand. His touch is light as he lifts it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “It’s been a long night,” he says quietly, his gaze meeting yours. “You should try to relax.”
The tenderness of each gesture dissolves a little more of the tension lingering from the car ride. For a moment, it feels like the night’s events have been smoothed over.
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
The blanket draped across your legs is warm, wrapping you in comfort as the faint scent of soap and shampoo lingers from the showers. You stretch out slowly, eyes still on the tv as you move to rest your head on Sylus’ lap. His hand rests on your head, the light touch of his fingers soothing. Your legs find their place on Zayne’s lap, his strong hands moving to cradle your feet. When his fingers press gently into your arches, eliciting a soft sigh from your lips. The way his thumbs knead into your soles sends tiny ripples of relief through your body. Sylus’ fingers gently massage your temple, while Zayne’s hands work slowly over your calves. For a moment, you’re content to lie there, letting their attention wash over you.
But your hand starts to wander.
It traces along the fabric of his sweatpants as you brush over the firm muscle of his thigh before your palm settles over his crotch. Sylus chuckles, and you feel his body tense slightly under your touch. His hand stills as he glances down at you. “You sure you’re not tired?”
You nuzzle against his thigh, “I’m sure,” you say softly.
Sylus’ gaze flicks past you, meeting Zayne’s over your head, the exchange passing in an instant.
You shift onto your back, blissfully clueless, the warmth of the blanket replaced by the cool air of the room as Zayne slides it away, folding it neatly onto the backrest. His hands move to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, sending faint shivers along your body as he pulls off the piece of clothing. You draw a sharp breath as Zayne’s long fingers trace the sensitive spot between your legs, the barrier of your underwear doing little to dull the sensation. His thumb presses gently, testing your reaction.
Above you, Sylus watches your face as you’re still resting your head on his lap. His hand threads through yours, his grip steady as he lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.
Zayne’s eyes flicker down, his full attention locked on the slow movements of his fingers. The pads of his ring and middle finger press firmly against the soaked fabric of your panties, sliding back and forth at a slow pace. The pressure builds as he alternates his rhythm—pushing his fingers harder against you, dragging them in slow strokes, then pulling back just enough to make you whimper. The dampness of your arousal soaks through the thin barrier, your panties clinging to your folds.
“Fuck,” Zayne murmurs. “You’re so wet, my sweet girl. You like this that much? Being teased like the needy little brat you are?”
Heat floods your cheeks at his words, but before you can respond—his thumb circles your clit, pressing firmly enough to draw a gasp from your pretty lips. Your hips shift against his touch instinctively, desperate for more, but his movements remain infuriatingly measured.
Zayne shifts, his hands pressing against your thighs, keeping you open as his head hovers just between your legs. Your legs tremble in his hold when you feel it - the slow swipe of his tongue over the fabric. A quiet moan escapes your lips as he does it again, his tongue dragging across the sensitive spot, his saliva mixed with your slick making the fabric cling to you. Your free hand moves instinctively, fingers sliding into Zayne’s dark hair, urging him closer, urging him to give you more. His eyes flick up briefly, and then you hear Sylus’ sharp tut from above.
“Tsk, tsk. You’re not in charge here, sweetie.” Sylus’ voice is rich with mock disapproval. He reaches down, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he pulls your hand away from Zayne’s head with. He presses your hand above your head, holding both of your wrists in place with one hand, while Zayne’s grip on your hips tightens, making it impossible to move. His fingers press into your skin, holding you down as his tongue flicks out again, swirling slow, maddening circles over your clit. Your head tilts back against Sylus’ thigh, a frustrated sound escaping your lips as you try to shift against Zayne’s hold.
“Look at her,” Sylus muses as he watches you squirm. “So fucking needy. Isn’t that cute?”
Zayne chuckles against you, the vibrations making your toes curl. But, after a few more frustratingly dragged out swipes, he finally relents. His hold on your hips loosening just enough to slide your soaked panties to the side, the cool air kissing your exposed skin, spreading goosebumps all over your skin. His thumb brushes lightly along your folds, spreading the slickness, before his tongue is finally on you, dragging slow swipes from your entrance to your clit. Relief courses through you, your thighs trembling as the ache that’s been building finally begins to ease. His tongue moves with precision, parting your folds and swirling around your clit with just the right amount of pressure.
Above you, Sylus’ ruby gaze flickers down, his fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt. The fabric bunches in his hand as he lifts it higher, revealing the soft curves of your breasts, the cool air making your nipples pebble instantly. His free hand traces slow circles around one hardened peak, his thumb brushing lightly over it, teasing, before he pinches just enough to make your back arch off the sofa. Then, slowly, his hand trails up, over the side of your neck, before settling on your bottom lip. The gentle pressure makes your lips part instinctively, your tongue swirling around his finger. Sylus adds another finger, the digits sliding deeper as your lips tighten around them, coating them in saliva. Then he pulls them free and drags them down, swirling over the hardened peaks, the added slickness making you moan.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Sylus asks, his smirk widening as his fingers press harder, rolling your nipples between them.
Zayne’s lips seal around your clit with just enough suction to make you cry out. Each stroke and suck builds the pressure inside you to a breaking point, your toes curling as the pleasure coils tight in your core, threatening to snap. You’re so close—so close you can feel yourself teetering on the edge—
And then Zayne pulls back.
The loss of contact draws a frustrated, broken whimper from your lips, your hips jerking against nothing.
Zayne looks up at you, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t look so surprised,” his voice calm and infuriatingly composed. “Brats don’t get to finish so easily.” His hands stay firm on your hips, keeping you still as you try to move.
Your lips part in protest, but Sylus cuts you off with a smug tut. “Ah, ah,” he smirks. “You’ll have to earn it first.” His fingers slide down, gliding over your soaked folds before delivering a sharp tap to your swollen pussy, the sudden jolt making you flinch with a yelp.
“Look at this mess,” he mutters, his voice dripping with mockery as he taps again, watching you flinch. “Needy little thing.”
His fingers glide through, your body arching into his touch in desperate need of more. But then he pulls away, leaving you trembling in frustration. His glistening fingers rise to his lips, his eyes locking onto yours as his tongue flicks out, savoring the blend of your juices and Zayne’s lingering taste. He chuckles, “You know we don’t let bad behavior slide.”
Before you can protest, Zayne’s hand slides along your jaw, tilting your face toward him. His hazel eyes meet yours, “You know we’re not angry,” Zayne says softly, as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. “But we will take our time making sure you understand.”
His words send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your body trembling under the weight of their attention. Frustration wells up, but so does the thrill of knowing exactly what they’re doing. Of course, they wouldn’t let you off so easily—it’s Sylus and Zayne.
Sylus releases your wrists, and before you can process the absence of his touch, Zayne reaches for your hands, pulling you upward with ease until you’re sitting on the sofa. Sylus stands up, stepping beside you as his hands hook into the waistband of his sweatpants. He tugs them down just enough to free his cock - thick, flushed with a bead of precum at the tip. Your breath catches as he strokes himself lazily, his eyes glinting when he notices your gaze drop to his length.
“Come here,” Sylus commands as he plants one foot on the floor, the other on the sofa, your mouth watering at the sight. He strokes one last time before dragging the head of his cock toward your parted lips. The salty bead of precum hits your tongue, and you can’t stop the whimper that escapes as you take him in. Sylus growls, his hand resting on the back of your head, holding you steady.
Beside you, Zayne stands up, mirroring Sylus’ stance, as he slides his pajama pants down and frees himself. He wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls your hand to him, curling it around his cock. He’s hot and heavy in your palm, twitching as his hand envelopes yours, his grip firm as he helps you stroke him. “Slow,” he murmurs softly. “Feel how hard you’ve made me.”
Sylus’ hips begin to move, his thrusts shallow at first, as the thick head of his cock pushes deeper past your parted lips. You hollow your cheeks, your tongue flattening beneath him, and the sharp hiss that escapes his lips goes straight to your core.
“Deeper,” Sylus growls, “I know you can take it.”
He doesn’t wait for you to adjust—his grip keeps you firmly in place as his hips roll forward, forcing his cock further down your throat. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you struggle to keep up, swallowing around the thick length stretching your throat. Spit drips from the corners of your mouth as he moves, hitting the back of your throat, making you choke with each thrust. Sylus’ movements falter for a moment, his thrusts growing erratic and then, abruptly, he pulls back. The sudden loss leaves you breathless and you look up to see his jaw clenched, his hand squeezing the flushed tip.
“Fuck,” he mutters in a shaky voice. “Almost made me finish down your throat.”
Before you can catch your breath, Zayne’s hand tilts your chin, guiding your mouth toward him, your lips parting instinctively as the head of his cock brushes against them. He presses forward, filling your mouth, his eyes locking onto yours as your tongue swirls around the tip, savoring the salty taste. A low groan escapes him, his hand resting on the back of your head as he sets a languid pace. Your jaw aches from the stretch, but the weight of him—hot and heavy against your tongue—makes you moan softly, the sound vibrating against him. Your hand finds Sylus, wrapping around his slick length as you stroke him in rhythm with Zayne’s thrusts. Sylus hisses through his teeth, his cock twitching in your grasp as he watches.
The ache between your legs becomes unbearable, your thighs pressing together in the desperate need for release. Unfortunately for you, Zayne’s sharp eyes catch the motion. Abruptly, he pulls back, his cock slipping free with a wet pop.
“No,” he says firmly, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His grip on your chin forces your gaze upward. “Spread your legs.”
You almost whimper at the tone. “But—”
“Spread them,” Zayne repeats. The authority in his voice makes your thighs part, the frustration growing as Sylus chuckles above you.
Zayne’s hand shifts, guiding your mouth back to him. His cock slides past your lips again, and this time his thrusts are faster, each movement pushing deeper until the tip hits the back of your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes again, the sound of your gagging pulling a guttural growl from him.
“Just like that,” Zayne murmurs, his voice rough. “Take all of it.”
Beside him, Sylus’ breaths become rough and uneven as his hand tightens over yours, his hips snapping forward, drawing Zayne’s attention.
Zayne’s hand slides to the back of Sylus’ neck, pulling him forward until their faces are almost touching. His voice drops low, quiet enough that you can’t make out the words. Their whispers drip with intent, and the thought of them planning your undoing makes your pussy clench desperately, slick spilling over as your body begs to be used exactly the way they want.
Sylus’ eyes flick to Zayne’s, hazy with arousal, with a faint smirk on his lips. Zayne’s lips press to the sharp line of Sylus’ jaw, followed by teeth dragging over his skin before he bites down, rough enough to leave a mark. The sharp sting rips a guttural, feral sound from Sylus’ throat, his cock twitching in your hand, precum spilling along your fingers.
“Good,” Zayne mutters against Sylus’ jaw before he pulls back, releasing Sylus’ neck. Their eyes meet for a moment, before their full attention is back on you.
Zayne’s thrusts grow erratic, his cock hitting the back of your throat one last time before he pulls out, leaving you gasping. You barely have time to recover before Sylus’ hand grips your jaw, tilting your face toward him, but his other hand grabs at the hem of your pajama top, tugging it upward in one swift motion, leaving you bare before him.
“Open,” Sylus commands, and your mouth falls open instantly, tongue slipping out. The flushed tip of his cock presses against it, dragging across it as he smears the salty slick, before his release spills suddenly, the first hot spurt hitting your tongue. The rest paints your cheeks, dripping down your chest, and clings to your skin in messy streaks. Zayne watches, his hand gripping your wrist as you stroke him. His cock twitches violently in your grasp, and when your fingers tighten, slick with his precum, it pushes him over the edge. A sharp, choked groan escapes his lips as his hips snap forward, his release spilling over your face and breasts, mingling with Sylus’ mess.
You’re trembling, every inch of your body aching with unfulfilled need. Sylus tilts your face up with two fingers under your jaw, making you to meet his gaze.
“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Fucking perfect.”
Zayne’s fingers brush the corners of your tear-streaked eyes. “She is,” he agrees with a smirk.
You bite your lip as your gaze flicks between them - they’re both still hard, their cocks twitching and glistening.
Zayne moves first – he sits back on the sofa and grabs a large pillow and positions it behind him. Reclining slightly, he leans back against the cushion, his legs spreading as his cock juts upward. His hands reach for you, pulling you toward him, guiding you onto his lap and helping you recline against him. Your back presses against his chest, his warmth melting some of the tension from your muscles. His arms wrap around your waist, anchoring you to him.
“Just relax,” His voice is calm and soothing as his lips brush against the shell of your ear.
Sylus steps closer, his sharp gaze raking over your trembling form, smirk widening as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. He drags the soaked fabric down your thighs, exposing your dripping pussy to the cool air.
“Fuck,” Sylus mutters, his eyes burning as he spreads your legs, his grip firm.
Zayne’s hands glide upward, smearing the mess of their release over your chest before his fingers close around your nipples, pinching just enough to make you gasp. Then, his fingers trail downward, leaving a sticky path until they stop just above your needy core. You grab onto his veiny forearms at the first stroke of his fingers over your clit, before his fingers dip lower, gathering your slick before gripping his cock. He presses the tip to your entrance, dragging the length of his shaft through your folds, catching your clit in the motion, making your pussy flutter.
Zayne shifts beneath you, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance before nudging inside. The stretch is immediate, the delicious ache making your breath hitch as he pushes deeper, steadying your hips with firm hands. A raw, breathless moan escapes as he fills you, your head tilting back against his shoulder.
“That’s it.” Zayne whispers in your ear, his grip tightening as he holds you in place.
Every slow thrust presses against your most sensitive spots, each movement tightening the coil in your belly. Sylus watches as his hand wraps around his cock, stroking slowly to match the roll of Zayne’s hips.
“Fuck,” Sylus mutters. “Look at her—dripping down to the base, and you’ve barely started.”
Zayne chuckles softly, his lips brushing your ear as his thrusts grow deeper, each one sinking to the hilt. The intensity builds with each roll of his hips, his cock filling you completely. Your moans grow louder, more desperate, the sound making Sylus’ hand quicken as he strokes himself.
“Are you ready to take me too?” Sylus asks, his voice low and teasing.
Your body freezes momentarily at the question, your pussy clenching around Zayne’s length.
“You… both?” your voice trembles. The idea intrigues you, but you’re hesitant. “I don’t know if I can - I mean – I’m not sure it’ll fit -”
Sylus’ smirk widens. “Oh, it’ll fit,” his voice is almost mocking, “You’ve been so needy tonight. This is what you’ve been begging for, isn’t it?”
Zayne nuzzles against your ear, his lips brushing your skin. “But only if you want it.”
You fall silent, your breath shallow as you process their words. Sylus’ expression softens, his hand smoothing over your thigh as his gaze meets yours. “You can say no, darling.” he says softly.
Zayne presses a kiss just below your ear. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. You don’t have to take this any further.”
The sudden shift in their demeanor makes your chest tighten and their patience reassures you. You take a second to think. They’d never tried this before—never pushed to see if you could take them both at once. With how thick and long they both are, the idea had always seemed impossible. But tonight, the need is unbearable. You need to feel them—both of them—stretching you, breaking you, until there’s nothing left but the overwhelming sensation of them taking you completely.
You take in a shaky breath, “I want to. I’m ready.”
Zayne’s hands tighten gently around your waist, his lips brushing against your temple. “We’ll take care of you.”
Sylus’ teasing smirk returns. His hand grips his cock, the flushed head pressing against your stuffed entrance. Sylus’ cock nudges forward, catching your clit one, two times as he struggles to push inside. “Relax, sweetheart.” he whispers. Your legs tremble as Sylus presses forward again, the thick head of his cock pushing at your entrance again. A high-pitched whimper escapes you, as Sylus’ cock slips over your clit once more before the head finally begins to ease inside. Sylus moves slowly each inch forcing your body to adjust to the impossible fullness. The tip finally slips fully inside, your walls clamping down tightly around both of them. The sensation is almost too much, your gasps and desperate moans filling the air as your body struggles to adjust to the impossible fullness.
“Shh,” Zayne soothes, as he presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re doing perfectly. Just breathe, my darling.”
Sylus growls, his hand gripping your thighs as he stills. “So tight. Goddamn, Zayne, you’re not leaving much room.”
Zayne chuckles softly, his voice calm but you can feel his muscles tensing. Sylus shifts his hips, his tip stretching you impossibly as he inches deeper. The new fullness is overwhelming, every nerve inside you screaming for more.
“So fucking sensitive,” Zayne teases. “I bet she’ll cum before you’re even halfway there.”
The words make you whimper, your cheeks burning as Sylus pushes further. His hands tighten on your thighs as he finally bottoms out, holding still to let you feel every throbbing inch buried inside you. The maddening stretch of having both of them makes your pussy fluttering around them, pain and pleasure blurring together. Your breath comes in ragged, broken gasps as the tension in your belly coils tighter and tighter, impossibly close to snapping. You try to roll your hips, desperate to chase the climax that is right there, but their strong hands hold you still, denying you the friction you need
“I’m so close - !” you whimper, the desperation spilling from your lips as your head tilts back against Zayne’s shoulder. “I’m gonna—please, I need to—”
Sylus smirks down at you, “Close already?” he taunts. “I haven’t even fucking started yet.”
His hips shift slightly and that is all you need to fall apart, your orgasm crashing over you with devastating force. The tightness of your walls pulls guttural groans from both men, Zayne’s breath hitching against your neck as Sylus growls above you. They hold you steady while your body trembles in the aftermath, shallow gasps leaving your lips.
Sylus’ hand digs into your thigh, the grip bruising as his other hand braces on the backrest. His cock moves with shallow thrusts, the friction making your eyes roll back.
“You’re so sensitive,” Zayne murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “I can feel you clenching every time he moves.” Sylus’ pace quickens slightly, your moans growing louder as the coil in your belly tightens impossibly fast.
“Already?” Sylus teases, as he watches you writhe.
You don’t even register the question as your orgasm crashes over you. Your walls clench tightly around them both, the overwhelming tightness pulling a groan from Sylus, his hips stuttering briefly, while Zayne sucks in a sharp breath, his fingers tightening on your waist.
But Sylus doesn’t stop. His thrusts deepen, slamming into you, the drag along your oversensitive walls pulling pathetic whimpers as your pussy tightens around him. The slick, maddening friction of their cocks sliding together, every thrust dragging a raw moan from your lips as the stretch pushes you closer to the edge. Your breath catches, your back arching as the coil snaps. Pleasure rips through you, blinding and raw, tears streaking your face. You clench around them tighter, milking them both as the aftershocks crash through you.
Zayne’s breath is hot against your ear, his chest heaving against your back as his cock throbs inside you. The tight clamp of your walls around him has him on the brink, but he holds on as his hand moves downwards from your waist.
“You’ve got one more in you, I can feel it.” he rasps.
His fingers find your swollen clit, the first touch sending a shock through your body, making your hips jerk involuntarily. “Easy,” Zayne soothes, as he presses his fingers firmly against the sensitive spot.
Sylus’ grip on your thigh is bruising as he rams deeper, his eyes locked on yours – watery and heavy-lidded. “You’re milking me—gonna pull me apart.”
Zayne’s breath is hot against your ear, his fingers merciless on your clit, rubbing slick circles that make your hips jerk wildly. “Cum,” he rasps. “Now. Let us feel you, my love.”
Your body obeys - your walls clamp down hard, as you completely lose your voice from the overstimulation. Sylus curses, as your fluttering walls drag him deeper. His cock throbs hard before he cums, his release, hot and thick, floods you as his hips stammer. “Fuck, that’s it,” he growls, his voice breaking. In your fucked out daze you hear Zayne moan in the crook of your neck, as his hips still, burying himself to the hilt, his release hitting in heavy hot waves, mixing with Sylus’, leaving you completely full, dripping, and ruined.
Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, your head lolling back against Zayne’s shoulder. His lips press softly against your temple, his hands stroking your waist gently as Sylus leans over, his breaths heavy and uneven. Every inch of you feels hypersensitive, your skin slick with sweat and cum. You’re pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat, the fullness lingering even as the men stay still, both of them still buried deep inside you.
Sylus’ hand moves from your thigh, his gaze scanning your face. “Breathe for me.” he says, still breathless. His thumb brushes over your cheek, wiping away the stray tears that streaked down your face. You nod weakly, your throat too dry to speak, and you focus on steadying your breath. Sylus smiles softly. “You did so good.”
Zayne’s lips press against your temple again, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “She handled it perfectly. Didn’t you, darling?”
The praise makes your cheeks flush, though you’re still too dazed to say anything. Sylus shifts first, pulling out slowly, the movement making you wince. His hand stays steady on your thigh, stroking softly for a moment before he walks away. Zayne follows a moment later, his withdrawal careful and deliberate. The sudden emptiness pulls a small whimper from your lips before Zayne’s arms tighten around you, holding you firmly against his chest.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers. His hands rub soothing circles over your sides, grounding you as he shifts to sit upright, cradling you in his lap.
Sylus returns quickly with two warm damp cloths. Zayne takes one to clean your face, while Sylus kneels in front of you as he gently wipes away the mess from your thighs and belly.
Zayne murmurs against your temple. “Do you need water? Anything else?”
Your voice is faint, barely above a whisper, as you manage to say, “Just stay… both of you.”
Sylus chuckles softly. “Like we’d go anywhere,” He tosses the cloth aside and sits down on the sofa beside you, while Zayne adjusts his hold, setting you gently to sit in between them and covers your lap with the blanket. The warmth of their bodies, every soothing stroke of their hands, their quiet breaths, soothe you. Though, you can’t relax.
Their care, their unwavering attention, makes the guilt bubble up. Your lips part, but the words catch in your throat. You swallow hard, your fingers clutching the blanket as you glance between them.
You take a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “For lying to you. For sneaking out.”
Zayne presses a kiss to your shoulder, his voice calm as he replies. “I’m glad you admit your mistake. We need to know where you are to keep you safe.”
Sylus’ nods as he caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. “Exactly. We weren’t mad because you went out. We were upset because you didn’t tell us.”
Tears prick your eyes again, but this time they’re from relief. “I won’t do it again… I promise.”
Zayne smiles softly. “We’ll hold you to that promise.”
You nod, the exhaustion catching up to you as your body sinks further into the sofa, your eyelids heavy. But Sylus doesn’t let you rest – he stands up and takes you hand in his. “We need to wash up.”
You whine. “I don’t want too - I’m too tired.”
Sylus grumbles something before he leans down, grips your waist, and hoists you up over his shoulder. You yelp as you’re suddenly upside down, your protests turning into a mix of laughter and annoyance as you squirm in his hold.
“Sylus!” you laugh, your fists half-heartedly thudding against his back. “Put me down!”
“Not happening,” he replies smugly, his palm landing a playful smack against your bare ass.
Behind you, Zayne shakes his head, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he stands up, going around you two and towards the bathroom. “Take it easy, Sylus. She’s had enough for tonight.”
By the time you’re back in bed, wrapped snugly in fresh blankets, sleep takes you almost instantly, nestled between Sylus and Zayne, with your heart light.
#ncs secret santa#merry ficmas#sylus love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#lads zayne#zayne smut#zayne x reader#zayne x you#sylus smut#lads sylus#love and deepspace sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#qin che#l&ds zayne#lnds zayne#love and deepspace zayne#zayne lads#love and deepspace
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How they react to you feeling insecure (LaDS)
Summary: How the Love and Deepspace boys react to you feeling insecure about various things. Includes Rafayel, Sylus, Zayne, and Xavier. Lots of fluff.
Word Count: they're all around 1000 roughly
Note: Warnings of different kinds of insecurity, ranging from physical to mental. I'm not sure of how well the Xavier one turned out, he's harder for me to write, but I couldn't leave him out!!! Anyways, hope yall enjoy!
Rafayel
His ended up being a lot longer, so it's posted separately.
here
--
Sylus
Being partners with Sylus is a…daunting position to be in.
You always considered yourself a fairly average person, more focused on who you are than what you look like. It’s not that you don’t like the way you look - you do - and you don’t like comparing yourself to anyone, but you don’t plan on being a model anytime soon. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
Then you met Sylus, a man who looks like he was carved from the marble of ancient architecture. He could stand in a room of masterpieces and people would still look at him instead of the art. And since you’re by his side now, that means they’re also looking at you.
Being stared down by wanderers in one thing. Being stared down by the most powerful and prevalent members of the N109 Zone? You hate to admit that it gets to you. In fact, it gets so under your skin, that even when you’re dressed in the most extravagant dresses and decadent jewelry, you can’t help but feel…insecure.
Twisting in front of the mirror, you eye every detail of the dress Sylus bought you. It’s perfect, of course. The man has an annoying knack for getting you the most beautiful things and knowing exactly what fits you. The color compliments your hair and it’s comfortable to boot.
Still. You can’t help but feel like a kid trying to fit in at the adults table, wearing your mother’s heels even though they don’t fit. A bit ridiculous.
“Do you not like it?” Sylus appears behind you, dressed in a matching, lavish suit.
You jump a little, eyes flicking up to meet his in the mirror. His eyes burn into you, reading the hesitation on your face as you curl your arms around your stomach. There’s no fiery retort or witty comment like usual. You just look back at your dress, the tips of your ears tinging pink.
A frown pulls at Sylus’ lips, his voice softening, “What’s wrong?”
“...Do you really think people believe us? That we’re together?” You ask quietly, shuffling your weight back and forth. “That I’m a good match for you?”
You’re keenly aware that you’ve never had a conversation like this with Sylus. For the most part your relationship has been filled with teasing and playful bickering. It’s always light. Or about work. This is new, and while you trust him more than anything, you hate not knowing how he will react.
Sylus hums, low and thoughtful, as he curls his arms around you, “Does it matter to you what others think?”
You let out a sigh, leaning back into his touch thankfully. You want to say no. You want to keep up the air of confidence, but that quiet voice of doubt keeps worming its way through your thoughts.
“I just…I feel like I’m not what people expect. And…” you try to explain, hesitating. Sylus presses a kiss to your shoulder, offering a hum of encouragement. Taking a deep breath, you add, “It bothers me. It feels like I’m being forced into the spotlight but I’m not meant to be there. Like I don’t fit.”
“Hmm, so you feel like an odd duckling.” You give him a small jab, and Sylus chuckles. “My apologies. I think you misunderstand the attention though.” He pulls you closer. You shiver as his lips trace along the crook of your shoulder, pressing delicate kisses up the side of your neck, until he can murmur lowly into your ear, “You’re too humble, kitten. When you walk into a room, all eyes turn to you, not out of judgment, but out of jealousy. Afterall, you’ve tamed the leader of Onychinus. Even if you walked in with your uniform, they’d look at you the same. And I get the pleasure of walking around with the most powerful-” He presses his lips to your jaw. “-beautiful-” His lips trace against your cheek. “-woman of Linkon City. Don’t let the attention of those lesser than you make you doubt, otherwise I might have to find another way to show them just how well we fit together.”
Sylus’ eyes catch yours in the mirror again. They’re dark, like coals surrounded by flickering cinders. So intense you can almost feel the flames licking along your skin. There’s not a doubt in your mind that he’s being genuine. And that sets your heart racing. Along with the way he holds you so close, equal parts possessive and reverent. Like worship.
“Your devotion might scare some people, Sylus,” you whisper, glancing sideways at him.
He flashes a dangerous smile, “Does it scare you?”
You cast one final glance at your reflections before turning around in his hold and curling your arms around his neck. Sylus raises a challenging brow.
“I’m not. I like how you stand up for me, even when it’s against my own insecurities.” You draw him down, pressing a kiss to that carnal smile. Sylus softens immediately, cupping your jaw to draw you into a deeper kiss. The warmth that simmers in each and every touch leaves you a little breathless when you pull away. Pressing against his chest before he can drag you in again, you make sure to say one last thing, “Thank you, Sylus. I’ll make sure to remember all of that…especially the part about you being wrapped around my finger.”
“Hmm, such a cruel mistress, indeed.”
“And you love me.”
A chuckle rumbles through his chest, “Yes, I do. So, will you accompany me to this auction now?”
---
Zayne
“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m going?” You ask, voice wavering with nerves as you straighten Zayne’s tie for him.
“Isn’t it natural to bring one’s partner to these kinds of events?” He tilts his head, brow perked ever so slightly.
You nod, but can’t seem to erase the frown on your lips.
A week ago, Zayne had asked if you would accompany him to his medical school’s class reunion banquet. He had been asked to give a special word, given the reputation he had developed in his time at Akso Hospital, not to mention winning the Starcatcher Award for his work.
At first, you were ecstatic to have an opportunity to learn more about his old life. He has such a thing about living in the present, you hardly get to hear any stories about his time in med school, or when he was doing rotations at the hospital. You were eager to meet the people who he used to spend time with and hopefully catch a few stories you could tease him with later.
But as the night drew closer, you started actually thinking about all the people you would be around, all of whom graduated from the same medical program Zayne did. You can only imagine how smart they all are. And how you’ll get lost the moment any medical jargon comes up.
The more you think about it, the more nerves you feel buzzing under your skin. You know you’re not the smartest, not compared to Zayne at least. He’s a genius, after all, and could probably outsmart most anyone. You’ve always been better at the physical stuff. That’s what makes you such a good pair.
It’s not like you can impress everyone by whipping your gun out and fighting, though. All you’ll have are your words, and you’re not particularly good with those…
You blink when a large hand suddenly circles your wrist. Glancing up, you find Zayne looking down at you, brows furrowed ever so slightly.
“While I appreciate your attention to detail, I believe you’ve been straightening my tie for five minutes now.” Heat creeps up your neck. You hadn’t even realized you had been lost in thought. Zayne’s eyes narrow inquisitively. “What are you thinking about that has your mind so preoccupied?”
His thumb brushes casually along the inside of your wrist, not so subtly checking your pulse. A strangely endearing habit of his when he’s worried about you. You let out a long sigh and hide your face against his chest, feeling the heat bleed across your cheeks.
How are you supposed to tell him that you’re insecure about how smart all his friends must be?
Zayne doesn’t push right away. He knows you’ll explain when you want to, and if you don’t, then he knows you’re not ready to. It was an unspoken rule between you, something you started with him because you noticed he likes to think his words out. It felt natural to offer you the same when you struggle to express yourself. Like now.
Ultimately, you figure it’s better to just be straightforward. That’s how he would do it, and it’s better than dancing around the subject.
“I guess I’m nervous because I feel like I’m going to be the dumbest person in the room tonight,” you mutter against his coat. Your fingers tap out an anxious beat against his abdomen. “It’s silly and I know it shouldn’t matter, but I just don’t want to make you look bad.”
Zayne remains quiet for a long minute. Your fingers move a little quicker, matching the stuttering rhythm of your heart. His hand slides up, gently trapping them against his body.
“Sorry,” you mumble.
“Physical tics are a common result of anxiety,” he hums dismissively, thumb smoothing over your knuckles. “As is your rapid heart rate. This truly bothers you.”
“Of course it does,” you sigh, a bit exasperated, ”You’ve worked hard to get where you are, Zayne. I love you so much, and I respect your work more than anything. I don’t, I don’t want to say something stupid and have it reflect on you badly.”
The doctor clicks his tongue, “First, I would prefer if you stop using that language to describe yourself.”
Your heart falters when his cool fingers touch your cheek, drawing your face up to his. He looks upset, but not exactly at you, the sharp line of his jaw contrasting with the softness of his eyes. Like it pains him that you think this way. Which it does.
“Those words don’t suit you. I wouldn’t allow another to call you them, so why would I allow you to?” He asserts, the corner of his lips twitching with distaste. “I don’t want to hear them again, do you understand?”
“Okay.” A thread of warmth curls around your heart when Zayne nods approvingly. His protectiveness really knows no bounds.
“Second, I do not agree with your diagnosis.”
Your brow furrows a little. What? What does he mean, he disagrees? He’s literally surrounded by geniuses, you can’t match up to any of them if they’re anything like him.
Seeing you start to overthink, Zayne shakes his head and gently pinches your cheek. You jolt back a little. The corners of his eyes crinkle, making you pout.
“Meanie,” you grumble, “Fine, explain your reasoning, Doctor Zayne.”
“It’s simple. Intelligence is made up of more than just academic knowledge, which, I assume, is what you are thinking of when you make such comments.” You nod. He’s not wrong about that, you guess. “Intelligence also includes the knowledge of how to use one’s strengths to achieve the best outcome. It is true that for some, this means using academic reasoning. However, it also includes those who develop the skills and discipline to maintain their bodies and fight for those who can’t, like…”
He pauses and gives you an expectant look.
“...me,” you finish slowly.
“Yes,” he hums, stroking the redness of your cheek, “I believe, under these standards, you are far more intelligent than most of the people you will meet tonight, darling. Though there is no comparison in the first place.”
His words sink in slowly but surely, filling in the cracks of your doubt. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he probably has some kind of healing magic, because you can already feel the burden of your insecurities melting away.
Leave it to Zayne to know exactly what to say, but in the most complex sounding way.
“You always know how to make me feel better, huh?” You ask, finally cracking that smile he loves.
“I am simply telling you the truth.” Zayne leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “There is not a lifetime in which my reputation will be more important than you. I would gladly throw it all away if it meant reminding you of that.”
You snort, “Don’t do that, please. I can only imagine the fit Doctor Greyson would throw. He’d be so mad at me.”
“I can handle Doctor Greyson, in the same way I can handle everyone tonight.” He slips his fingers between yours, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. You wiggle your fingers happily and Zayne can’t help but grin to himself. “If at any point you find yourself uncomfortable, just stay by my side and I will act as your distraction. Though, I’m sure they will all love you, just as I do.”
“...Thank you, Zayne.”
“Of course, my jasmine.”
---
Xavier
Working with Xavier is a blessing, as much as it is a curse. You couldn’t ask for a better partner. Someone who you know will always have your back, who can handle himself completely, who is probably the most talented hunter you’ve ever met in your entire life. He’s undeniably amazing.
On the flip side of that, though, you often fall into the trap of thinking about how he deserves better. Wondering if, maybe, the only reason he chose to stay with you was because of the aether core in your heart. If that’s also the reason you’re in a relationship now…
And some days, these thoughts win out over the rest. Like today.
“What’s wrong?”
You blink, eyes flickering up from the bowl of ramen in front of you. Early on, you had started a tradition of eating a meal together after a successful mission, to just enjoy the peace of your home and each other. But today, you weren’t feeling that hungry, just…tired.
Xavier tilts his head, concern furrowing his brow - he noticed your mood start to shift days before, but didn’t want to push since you didn’t seem to notice it yourself. Now, though, it’s too obvious for him to ignore.
“I’m fine,” you sigh, flicking your chopsticks back and forth to watch the noodles swirl around in the broth, a small frown capturing your lips. It’s a horribly obvious lie.
“Is it something I did?” His voice isn’t accusatory or upset. It’s just a rational question to help him figure out what’s wrong. Still, you feel guilt tug at your chest, and you set the chopsticks down with another sigh.
You don’t want him to think that. You’d never blame Xavier for something like this. That would be like asking him to be a worse person, which is stupid. It’s just you. Your problem. Dragging him into it will only make you feel worse.
“No, Xavier, you didn’t do anything, promise. I’m not upset…with you.”
“But you are upset.”
Chancing a glance up at him proves a bad idea, making it all that more difficult to keep your thoughts quiet. Behind his normal sleepy expression, worry gleams in the deep blue of his eyes, unyielding and undeniably calm, like waves lapping gently at the beach.
The sight makes your heart ache and the words are tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them, “Do you think I’m actually a suitable partner for you?”
Surprise flickers across the hunter’s face. Of all the things he was expecting you to say, that wasn’t even on the list. He doesn’t laugh though, or take your question lightly.
“Do you mean, as a hunting partner? Or as a romantic partner?”
You shift uncomfortably, eyes falling back to your ramen, “I don’t know. Both, I guess?”
He hums softly. You try to ignore the nerves fluttering in your chest as Xavier gets up, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he circles the table to stand next to you. The hunter drips his head, catching your gaze.
“May I see your hand?”
A small frown pulls at your lips, not exactly sure where he’s going with this, but you offer him your hand anyways. Xavier takes your wrist, touch featherlight, and moves it so your hand is held up flat, facing him. Your brow furrows.
“Xav-”
“Look.”
Pursing your lips, you let out a little huff. He really hates giving direct answers, doesn’t he? Still, you’re in no place to really judge him, or expect anything for that matter. He’s always been a bit of a mystery to you.
You watch as Xavier places his hand against yours. His palm is warm and you can feel the calluses from who knows how many years of hunting. Your hand looks tiny in comparison, his pale, delicate fingers long enough to curl over your own a little. The sight makes your heart squeeze, fondness competing with the feeling of being so…small.
“They’re pretty different,” Xavier hums, voice still calm, his own eyes fixed on your hands. “Your fingers are always cold, and your hands are small. You have a scar here.” His free hand grazes the side of your palm, along your pinky. “And here” He traces another along your knuckle. Your breath falters at the tenderness behind his touch, like you’re delicate porcelain. “Mine are in different places. Yours are skilled at weaving silk balls and mine can…open jars.”
You snort. Xavier’s eyes dart up to yours, sparkling with humor, a brow raised. You try to smother your laughter, rather ineffectively, and motion for him to continue.
“They’re different, but-” His fingers spread apart, and you mimic him instinctually, only for his fingers to slot between yours in one fluid motion. You inhale softly, laughter dying in your throat. It’s like two puzzle pieces fitting together, a perfect embrace that washes over you with a comforting warmth.
Xavier watches you, keenly aware of the way you squeeze his hand tightly, desperately, like you’re worried it might disappear. He gives yours a tender squeeze in return, thumb brushing over your knuckle.
“I think they’re a suitable match. Don’t you?”
God, how could you go without this man? The worries that have been pricking at the back of your mind all week seem to melt away. It leaves you with that warmth, the kind that only comes from Xavier, that he offers you over and over again.
You give his hand another squeeze, finally smiling, “Yah. I do…Thanks, Xavier.”
The hunter leans down, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. You can feel his lips brush against your skin as he murmurs, “Let me know if you ever feel this way again, angel. I’ll be more than glad to remind you.”
“I will.”
---
This was really fun to write!!! I really hope you guys like it! There are so many freaking tags on this puppy.
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace reader insert#reader insert#x reader#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace zayne#love and deepspace xavier#love and deepspace rafayel#lads sylus#lads zayne#lads xavier#lads rafayel#sylus x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader#rafayel x reader#lads zayne x reader#lads sylus x reader#lads xavier x reader#lads rafayel x reader#love and deepspace sylus x reader#love and deepspace zayne x reader#love and deepspace xavier x reader#love and deepspace rafayel x reader#love and deepspace x reader#lads x reader#lads fluff#so many freaking tags#insecurity
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hi jade!!! i would love to see a poly!marauders fic where they help r fall asleep please! absolutely no pressure at all just a suggestion ofc <3
“Why so moody?”
You rub at your eyes, standing just behind the sofa. You’d been frowning when James spotted you, not wanting to ask. “I can’t…”
“What?” Sirius asks.
Remus perks up from beside him.
Three sets of eyes makes it worse and somehow better. Sometimes it’s easier to only tell one of them when you have a problem, but sometimes you need all of them to know. “I can’t sleep again. Are you coming to bed soon?”
And listen, four people in one bed is insane but occasionally you manage it. Most of the time you sleep with James, less often Remus. You and Sirius tend to be incompatible while you sleep, because he grabs you around the neck and face for hugging and you wake up with sweat pouring off of you, blind.
Perhaps that’s why he offers first and emphatically. “I’ll come to bed with you, darling,” Sirius says, a picture of concern as he stands. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I’ve just tossed and turned for half an hour and I can’t take much more of it.”
“She’s going insane,” Remus comments with a severe frown.
Sirius helps him onto his feet. James, never one to be left out, turns off the television and gathers his throw blanket. “Not on my watch.”
“Wait, I’m sorry. You don’t have to get up,” you say, wringing your hands behind your back. You hadn’t meant to summon them all to bed. You’d just wanted to know when you could expect an end to your agony.
“Oh, well,” James begins, wrapping the throw blanket around your shoulders, “too late for that. Will you warm my side for me? I’ll lock up.”
You feel shyer than you’d thought, shuffling back to the bedroom. Sirius’ hand finds your lower back as he enters the room from behind you, encouraging you gently to the side as he goes for the other. You’d left the sheets in disarray, the lamp on. James’ room is messy as always, but it’s your fault as you live from it most days. Remus is immediately put off by the overflowing dresser, closing each drawer with a shush over the runners.
Sirius makes the bed, peeling back a corner for you. “Here, lovely. Climb in.”
“I didn’t mean for you to wait on me,” you say shyly, embarrassed at their attention.
“There’s nothing I like doing more.”
“He’s in a mood,” Remus says, though you’d guessed that already. “Enough room for me, too?”
“‘Nough room for everyone,” you murmur, rounding Sirius to climb into bed as instructed.
You and Remus end up in the middle of the bed, thankful for James’ sense of reality —everybody knew when you moved in together that the separate bedrooms wouldn’t last, but only James had the wherewithal to buy a very large bed. You’re immediately comforted by having one of them next to you, and Remus is very kind about it, asking in a murmur if he can cwtch you, wrapping his arm around your chest like you’re in danger of breaking from his touch.
Sirius is less polite, but not less caring. If he thought you didn’t want him to touch you he certainly wouldn’t, but he knows he can hug you pretty much whenever he wants. He presses his nose to your face, Remus’ against your shoulder, the three of you deflating after a long day never quite this close to each other. You can feel a day’s worth of back ache leeching in your mattress.
“Sorry,” you mumble.
“Ooh, for what?” Sirius asks.
“Making you come to bed.”
“Didn’t make us do anything.” His breath warms your cheek as he talks. “It’s late. We would’ve been in bed soon.”
It’s true enough. Everyone is in their pyjamas, Sirius smells like toothpaste. Still, you feel guilty for asking. And yet… you can finally relax now they’re here. It’s like they know exactly what’s been keeping you awake. Remus had cleaned and now holds your chest, Sirius reassures you and calms your stomach with his palm.
James gets one good look at you all and rolls his eyes. “I asked you to do one thing for me. Jesus. Babe, could you move over?” he asks Remus, not giving him the time to comply before he’s in bed and smushing everyone even closer together. “This is fun. Sleepover!”
“Just don’t start climbing on me again, Jamie,” Remus says.
You close your eyes. “Don’t worry, they’ll chill out soon,” Sirius promises in a whisper.
“Kiss?” you whisper back.
Three different boys attempt to kiss you in the dimly lit bedroom. All the fuss doesn’t help you sleep, but knowing how much they care about you definitely does.
#poly marauders x reader#the marauders#marauders#poly marauders#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#remus lupin x reader#sirius black x reader#james potter x reader#remus lupin fanfiction#sirius black fanfiction#james potter fanfiction#remus lupin fic#sirius black fic#james potter fic#the marauders x reader#the marauders x fem!reader#remus lupin#sirius black#james potter
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now I bend like a willow, thinkin’ of you.
shy!reader who gifts abby sliced fruit as symbolization for love and affection <3
———
“For me?” Abby says, watching as you hold out a bowl of sliced watermelons in front of her, eyes darting from the floor to the ceiling—looking everywhere but at her.
“Yeah,” you begin, “you said you liked them. I thought I’d make a bowl for you.” Abby doesn’t recall telling you such a small detail like that—and didn’t expect you to remember it either. She smiles, one that shows the pearls resting inside her gums—a smile that always seemed to make you shyer than you ever had been before.
“Can you look at me?” She asks, hands sunken into her grey sweats, eyes still on you—still so unbearably soft. She watches as your eyes grow wide—from embarrassment on your part, but she renders it such a sweet thing, to see you gushing over such a simplistic question.
“I—“ you start but you falter. She watches the struggle, the way you begin to chew on your cheek and the you try to slyly clutch the container against your chest. But she doesn’t comment. She doesn’t pry. She waits. And she watches as you look up to her eyebrows still knitted together in the way they always had been—something she found so appealing about you. And she finally meets your eyes. The ones she’s been searching for this entire time.
“I’m sorry.” You say, but she quickly rejects all of your apologies with a shake of her head as she takes her hands out of her pockets. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You haven’t done anything wrong.” She says, her smile dying down, but it’s there. More softer. So she doesn’t risk the chance of scaring you away.
“I just want you to look at me. You don’t have to, of course. I just like it when you do.” Abby watches as you fight the smile that tugs at your lips. She watches the way your eyes flicker from her face to every corner of the room.
And she can’t help but smile.
———
tbh this is probably one of the worst things I’ve ever written but I wanted to get something out! I promise the next thing I write will be proofread and edited <3

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TOUCH ── sylus.
summary: touches with whispered promises
note: thank you again for helping me @an-ever-angry-bi
“I’m mad at you.”
Words have never scared Sylus more than those words uttered by the love of his life that has his heart in her hand.
His face maintained stoic, not wanting her to hear the way his heart skipped at the words and the way his head immediately recounted his whole entire day to try to determine what he did or said wrong.
“For what, sweetie?” He softly asked, leaning back on the chair of his office. His eyes ran over your figure, admiring your pretty pouty face and the way your brows were furrowed so cutely while you wore a necklace he bought you for your anniversary. He patted his lap. “Come here and tell me.”
You walked to him with a small huff and plopped on his lap.
“I'm a very independent woman,” you said in a very serious tone.
“I know, sweetheart, and I love that for you.”
“I can fight.”
“Nothing turns me on more than you defending yourself,” Sylus continues to comment in a low tone, his fingers softly running up and down your arm while he doesn't stray away from your side profile.
“I can shoot someone.”
“I told you I can get a gun engraved with our names on them, sweetie,” he says, his lips softly brushing your neck, placing small kisses.
“And I can be by myself.”
“Sadly.”
“So, why the hell do I yearn for your single presence and touch when I haven’t seen you in hours?” You groaned out, subconsciously craning your neck as he grabs your waist. “Not even that, I get upset when you don’t respond for two hours. Two!”
He darkly chuckles. “It seems this kitty who loves baring her fangs loves being coddled, hmm?” His nose brushes against the pulse of your neck, softly inhaling your scent. “You want me to text you more often?”
“Please?”
“Whatever you want,” he muttered on your neck. “I hope you know, though, the way you’re so… independent, so badass that you can handle yourself, so headstrong…” his lips moved close to the shell of your ear as his words turned whispered. “The things you do to me.”
“You really like that about me?”
“If you were to stab me, I would stab myself deeper into the blade to meet your fingertips holding the handle,” he whispered as if he was sharing a secret, his glistening ruby colored eyes meeting yours. “My body yearns for your touch that I wouldn’t care about dying at your hands. I’ll die happy just getting to brush against your skin.”
You let out a shuddered breath as his lips hovered over yours. He nudged his nose against your own, glancing at your lips.
“You’re crazy…” you commented with no malice at all.
He smiled a little. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“How so?” He continued to speak in a low tone. “Because I would let you kill me? Because I would get on my knees to worship you like you deserve to? Call me crazy all you want, sweetie, I just want you in ways you don’t know.”
He presses his lips against yours, savoring your taste with a soft moan, relishing in the way your body felt underneath his fingertips.
He backed away and looked into your eyes again with dilated pupils.
“Anything happens to you,” he started, his hand placing itself on your cheek so the pad of his thumb could rub itself over your bottom lip, “I will set this stupid world on fire, you hear me?” You slowly nod. “Ask me for whatever, ask me for anything you want, I will gladly do anything because if I can set this world on fire for you, I will do anything you want before you could breathe. You want me to text you more? Done. Want to go on more dates? I will personally buy every restaurant with your favorite food so you could enjoy it without disturbance. That’s fine with you?”
“Yes… thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Ask me for the moon, stars, anything, it’s yours,” he tilted his head to the side with a small smile you couldn’t help but smile, too. “It’s called the bare minimum, sweetie.”
“Sy, that is not—” he cuts you off with a chuckle, his fingers moving from your bottom lip to your neck.
“Bare minimum. Never thank me for being the boyfriend you deserve,” he softly spoke, pressing soft kisses on your lips. He savored each one. “Now come on. Let’s go on a trip.”
“It’s 10 at night?” You questioned, almost perplexed
“You should be getting used to unexpected trips, sweetie,” he chuckled, helping you get up. He got up next, hovering over your figure. He rubbed your cheekbone softly. “Can’t have people thinking I can’t treat my girl right, hmm?”
“God, I’m in love with you.”
“And I’m in love with you,” he kisses you once again. “Come on. The jet should be ready. Don’t worry about clothes. I’ll buy you anything you want once we get there.”
“Ugh, you’re so hot.”
“Mmm, compliment me more, sweetie, we might do some things in the jet.”
#sylus#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#sylus qin#l&ds sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x mc#sylus x you#sylus imagine
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Can you do a Lando Norris x Sister where she gets hate? Comfort please
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
-xoxo babygirl 🧡
Behind the screen
Yn scrolled through her phone, her fingers trembling slightly. It was supposed to be a fun way to pass time—a quick look at social media to see what people were saying about the latest race. Instead, her screen was filled with comments that stung more than she wanted to admit.
"Why does Yn look so different? Has she even been eating?"
"It’s like she’s stopped trying altogether. At least put some effort into your looks if you’re going to show up on TV."
"Does she even care about her brother? She’s never at his races anymore."
Her throat tightened as she read each comment, their words echoing in her mind. The weight she’d lost had been unintentional—stress, school, and the whirlwind of her life had taken a toll. And her absence at Lando’s races wasn’t because she didn’t care. She loved her brother more than anything, but sometimes being in the spotlight, even indirectly, was too much.
She felt a tear slip down her cheek as she turned off her phone and tossed it onto the bed. Yn curled up, hugging a pillow close to her chest, wishing she could shrink into nothingness.
That’s when the door to her room creaked open.
“Yn?” Lando’s voice was soft but concerned. He stepped inside, his usual cheeky grin replaced by a furrowed brow. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she mumbled, wiping her face quickly and sitting up. “I’m fine.”
He didn’t buy it. Lando walked over, sat on the edge of her bed, and looked at her intently. “You’re crying. Don’t say it’s nothing. What happened?”
Yn hesitated, but the lump in her throat grew too big to swallow. “It’s just… people online. They’re saying horrible things about me. About my weight, how I look, how I don’t go to your races enough. It’s stupid, I know, but it just—it hurts.”
Lando’s face darkened. “They said what?”
She shrugged, trying to play it off, but her trembling hands gave her away. “It’s not a big deal. People say stuff all the time—”
“No, Yn. That’s not okay.” His tone was sharp, protective. “What the hell is wrong with people?”
“It’s fine, really,” she repeated weakly. “I just need to toughen up.”
“Stop that.” Lando moved closer, taking her hands in his. “You don’t have to ‘toughen up.’ This is messed up, and you shouldn’t have to deal with it. You’re my sister, Yn. No one gets to talk about you like that.”
Yn sniffled, feeling the warmth of his hands around hers. “I just… I hate that they think I don’t care about you. I do, Lando. I just—”
“I know you do,” he interrupted, his voice softening. “You’ve always been my biggest supporter, whether you’re at the track or not. And anyone who thinks otherwise doesn’t know anything.”
She looked down, her tears threatening to spill again. “But they’re right about how I look. I’ve lost weight, and I haven’t been dressing up or putting in effort, and—”
“Yn,” Lando said firmly, cutting her off. “You’re beautiful, okay? Always have been, always will be. And anyone who says otherwise can shove it.”
She let out a shaky laugh, despite herself. “You can’t say that to your fans.”
“Watch me.” Lando’s jaw clenched, and he stood up, pacing the room. “I’m not letting this slide. They think they can say whatever they want because they’re behind a screen. But they don’t get to hurt you. Ever.”
Yn watched him, a mix of gratitude and guilt swirling in her chest. “You don’t have to do anything, Lando. It’ll just blow over.”
“No,” he said firmly, grabbing his phone. “I’m putting an end to this now.”
“Lando—”
He raised a hand to stop her. “I mean it, Yn. This isn’t just about me. If they’re saying this stuff to you, they’ll do it to someone else. And I’m not going to sit back and let it happen.”
Before she could argue further, Lando opened his social media app. She could see the determination in his eyes as he began typing.
----------------------‐---------------------------
A few minutes later, his post was live.
*“I’ve seen the disgusting comments directed at my sister, and I’m absolutely done with it. Yn is one of the most important people in my life, and the fact that anyone thinks it’s okay to tear her down is beyond unacceptable. She doesn’t deserve this, and neither does anyone else.
If this is what being a fan of mine looks like, I’d rather not have fans at all. I won’t be using social media anymore if this continues. Treat people with kindness, or don’t speak at all.”*
---------------------------------‐--------------------
Lando set his phone down and turned back to Yn. “Done. If they want to act like idiots, they can do it without me.”
Yn’s eyes widened. “You didn’t have to do that. You love social media.”
“Not more than I love you,” he said simply, sitting back down beside her. “Yn, you’re my little sister. My job is to protect you. And if that means stepping away from social media or calling out people who think they can mess with you, I’ll do it a thousand times over.”
She leaned into his shoulder, feeling a wave of relief and love wash over her. “Thanks, Lando. You didn’t have to, but… it means a lot.”
“You’re stuck with me,” he said with a small smile, wrapping an arm around her. “And I’ll always have your back. No matter what.”
For the first time that day, Yn felt a little lighter. The hateful comments still lingered in the back of her mind, but Lando’s unwavering support reminded her that she wasn’t alone.
And with an overprotective brother like him, she knew she never would be.
#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#xoxo babygirl 💋#lando norris x y/n#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x sister!reader#lando norris x norris!reader#norris!reader#f1 x reader#online hate
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top payer!huh yunjin(g!p) x OF!reader
hear me out… yunjin as your biggest supporter on OF, and that she’s your top payer to the point you want to get to know her. only for her to beg you to do a video collab so she can fuck your cute little face. she’s just a fein for head!!!!!😣
cw: filthy smut(masturbation, cum eating, use of videotaping, Yunjin receiving), porn with some plot, not proofread,, use of ‘S/N’ for “screen/name”
You didn’t know anyone in the industry, maybe a few faces here and there, but no one quite noticeable, well maybe due in part that you where a faceless content creator. Not much was known about you, other than the occasional kinks and preferences you’d naturally post under your frequent photoshoots. Having “fans” didn’t help much either, they all just so happened to have tacky screen names that hid their true identity— Well, that was the case until you came across an account that would frequently pay for extra access to your photos, with her name and face plastered onto her casual viewing account.
“huh yunjin” it displayed, the username just being ‘yunnnnjin” something that’s just so intriguing, since you never really saw anyone so proud to display that they looked around the website. Honestly it was really just a pleasant surprise knowing someone was actually human looking through your photos, and occasional videos. Also the fact that she was absolutely stunning in her profile picture kinda made you suspicious, wondering if this could be a bot. I mean, her dark red hair, which complimented her big brown eyes and plump lips, it was all too good to be true!
The only reason you ever believed that this was a real person running this account was the amount of payments she made. It was absolutely absurd! Not only was she paying for literally all the extra spicy photos you posted— but it came to the point she went out of her way to make excess payments just for the hell of it! Your debit card was absolutely popping every single business day with more and more installments that this Yunjin girl sent you. Of course, you were a high paid model, who wracked up 40-50k a month, but honestly even how much she was paying you was too much.
And the weirdest part of it was she was paying thousands to ten thousand every week, without even a single comment or peep from her. Someone with that kind of spending habits must be someone who has some weird parasocial relationship… right?
Wrong!
It was always apparent that she kept a safe distance, never reaching out or demanding more raunchy photos from you, it just seemed like she was a viewer enjoying the content from afar. The idea of her doing this was perplexing, when people who sent far less on your photos where demanding far more than her. It was in some odd way, endearing to you. Coming to the point where you wanted to reach out to her and just get to know the woman who was practically paying your bills at this point. Not wanting to sound like a creep, you silently slid into her chat box with her, and sent a message. (Only for her to reply in a heartbeat.)
you: “Hey I saw you paying so much on my content thank you so much!”
yunnnnjin: “hi”
yunnnnjin: “yeah np, ur very beautiful”
you: “thank u sm!”
you: “I don’t want to sound ungrateful but why do you always pay extra? you don’t have to >_>”
yunnnnjin: “ah.. i just find you stunning”
you: “your my biggest supporter thank you!”
yunnnnjin: “this might be a weird question to ask, and I’m not demanding anything from you.”
you: “hm??”
yunnnnjin: “but can we film a collab”
staring right at your computer, your reading glasses was slowly falling down your face as you opened your jaw in disbelief. Did she seriously just say that? After mere minutes of meeting? What the fuck? So maybe she wasn’t any better than a man because what the hell just happened. You thought maybe you could trust her, believe that she wasn’t one of those entitled fans who felt the need to claim every inch of you, but I guess not. Honestly you felt disgusted she could ask this so quickly, but a morbid curiosity filled your mind, this could be a perfect way to make a little more money.
yunnnnjin: “sorry that was weird”
yunnnnjin: “i shouldn’t have said anything im sorry”
you: “… do u have a photo of ur face, like a video or something you can record right now so I know what I’m working with.”
*Yunjin sent 5 video attachments*
Admittedly you were scared to open the files she sent you, maybe this was all a prank and some sick friend was pulling this on you. But something just drew you in as you hovered your mouse on the reveal bar, clicking the photos, the blur was lifted and you were greeted with plethora of videos to look at. From first glance everything seemed to check out, but you wanted to make sure she didn’t just snag these from the internet.
The first video included her in a soft white robe, someone clearly putting makeup on her plush skin as she sat down. Humming a tune in the background that was oddly familiar to you, maybe a little too familiar.
The other 3 videos included her doing such mindless task like doing her make up, drinking coffee, even dancing to the beat of the music. But that’s not what interested you the most, what you gravitated toward was the video, with the first few frames being her face scrunched up, closing her eyes at her screen.
Playing the video, you were greeted by muffled groans, and the sound of skin rubbing against one another, almost in a rhythmic motion. As each time the skin glided across the other, she would let out the most intense moan, pleading with someone in front of the camera. Her eyes darting towards the scream as her mouth opened slightly, not clocking what she was doing until her moans became so loud, that the speakers on your computer started vibrating. Oh! She’s jacking off! While recording herself! How interesting!
That’s not what caught your eye though, it’s when she brung the camera down to the base of her thighs, propping the camera behind her thick perched up cock as she started rubbing it up and down. Her moans turning into pleading as she called out your screen name repeatedly, begging for her release like she was imagining it was your hands around her girth. She was far too much for you— to the point watching the precum dribble from the slit of her member made your skin crawl. You wished it was you making her feel that way, so you decided to continue watching until she reached her climax. Watching her hands slide up and down, quickening the pace and using her cum as leverage to fuck herself using her palm, made you go crazy. It wasn’t until she reached her maximum, as her legs buckled up slightly with her back arched cumming all over the screen. The bed squeaking as she fucked her hands aggressively to reach that climax she-oh-so desired. Your name rolling of her tounge so naturally as “fuckin’ so good” and “shit”, was mixed into it.
you: “wow”
you: “so you are real.”
yunnnnjin: “haha sorry if that last video is weird jst wanted u to know how much i want to collab”
you: “make sense, uhhhhhh i think we can, do u have an address?”
yunnnnjin: “perfect, and here’s my address, but tell me if you ever come over I’ll plan everything ahead”
You might’ve been sick in the head, because now you stood rooted in place standing in front of the door of her apartment. For all you knew she could’ve been a perverted killer on the loose, but seeing that video of her changed the trajectory of your life.
Knocking on the door, you heard someone stumble over themselves as the reached the door with a thud. A small groan escaping from a woman’s lips as she hurriedly pried the door open, your heartbeat racing. Finally as she opened the door, you met her brown gaze as her red hair fell gently over her face and covered a lot of her defining features. “You actually came.” Yunjin taking all of you in, being surprised that it was actually you as you covered your face with a black mask. Without warning she dragged your wrist and lead you into her nicely decorated apartment. All of her decor being of welloff brands and photos of her with 4 or sometimes 5 other girls.
She dragged you over to her bedroom, only to be met with professional lighting setups, cameras and other video recording tools set all around. She was clearly a little too prepared for her own good, down to the box of condoms that sat nicely on-top of the black bedsheets. “I got this all for you— I’m sorry if this is too much, but I didn’t know what else to do when you gave me this opportunity.” Tilting your head in confusion as from your knowledge she must’ve gotten all this equipment recently, since nothing about her profile said “model” or “photographer.”
“Ah thank you but you didn’t need to do all of that, besides I brought my video camera with me for a reason.” You insisted pulling out the black bag inside your even bigger gym back, showing her the camera as you slid it out. She stared back at you, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she looked back at everything she had prepared, mentally cursing herself when she should’ve know that you’d bring something fancy. “Oh this is a shame—“
“It’s fine, if you have everything set up, we can use this instead of what I’m using now, it’s probably better quality anyways.” And so you did, you began recording the first few clips, just some lingerie shots with Yunjin, or photographs with her tongue pressed agonist parts of your body. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but watching her boxers press up against your stomach, feeling her stiffened cock onto your tummy, made you feral. Greatful that you wore a face mask to cover your true identity, because with out it you’d be drooling by the contact of her boxers.
Thankfully, after snapping some promiscuous photos of the both of you, Yunjin offered to take some solo shots of you. This type without your top out, something that was so natural for you to do, made Yunjin’s breath hitch as your breast pooled into the free air. Fuck, you didn’t know how much she wanted to touch you right now, to have your nipple in her mourn while she played with your other breast. Or fucking your face and letting her precious cum fall down your chin and down to your chest. As the camera clicked on and on, her mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of fucking you mindlessly. Having her cum all over the nastiest parts of your body, while you scream her name all day long. And finally ripping off that black mask you used to cover your adorable face with so she could spurt all over you.
It took you a few minutes— actually almost half an hour to tell that her hardened cock was pressing even harder against her fabric, begging to be let out. As her mind drifted in and out of reality, you tried your best to snap her out of trance with no avail. “Yunjin—“ You called out her name once, “Yunjin?” A second time as you inched closer to her in your kneeling position, looking up at her soft gaze as she stared down at you. Before you could say her name one last time you where faced up, inches apart her hard member, looking up at her with, those, eyes.
Yunjin didn’t respond, not for a long time, her hands reaching out to your hair as she continued to click some more photos. Tangling her delicate slim fingers into your hair, taking more and more photos as you called out to her. “Fuck, S/N, you look so good” She mumbled, taking her hands out of your hair to pinch your cheeks up to give her your whole attention. Her breathing heavy as she watched your even movement, and how your face masked heaved up and down as she did so. “Can I fuck you princess, please— please let me use your pretty mouth baby.” Yunjin murmured, pulling her hands away from you as she held the waistband of her boxers.
Without any second thought, you brung your hands up and yanking it off of her, not wanting to admit that you wanted this more than her. As her boxers slid off so easily, you could see her cock take its place as it sprung up, the sheer size of it hitting her stomach as she had a painful erection.
It took you in awe for a few moments, the both of you not doing anything as you stared at her member, while she looked down at you in anticipation. “Holy shit— uh, can you get the video camera then?” You asked while Yunjin shook her head vigorously, tripping over herself to fully take off everything and grab the video taping camera on the side table. Running back, she began recording and pointing the camera down at you, indicating that the shot was already rolling.
You lifted your mask a little bit to place the head of her pink cock to the edge of your lips, placing the mask over, giving her little kitten licks as you do so. The sudden contact of your mouth on her most sensitive part made her let out the dirtiest moan, and bring her free hand to tangle it in your hair. “Fuck, that felt so nice baby.” She groaned out, petting your hair as you continued to bring your mouth to the base. The sheer size of it making you tear up, unable to handle how much you had to put in.
Yunjin was getting off to this, getting off to your gagging, getting off to the feeling of your small mouth around her dick, just getting off to the idea of you. “Is it— hah, too big princess?” She breathed out as she buckled her waist, pushing you to deep throat her thick cock. Leaving you to gag even more as she was pressing up against you, the tip off your nose touching her pelvis as she brung you deeper down. The sounds of your muffled gagging gave her more leverage to fist your hair and fuck into you. Letting dribbles of cum and salvia accumulate as drizzle down your chin. Luckily the mask you wore was able the cover the lewd juices leaking out from you mouth as you took her all.
Bobbing your head back and fourth, her fist was still clawing at your hair as she fucked your most so nicely. “Fuck— fuck…” She groaned, her dick writing in your mouth as you hummed, “mpfh” letting the vibrations of your voice to leave a nice sensation around her. Your tongue swirling around in circles, nose touching her pelvis as hot air coming from your nose sent shivers down her spine. From the way her hips where proceeding to buckle clearly indicated that she was close to climaxing.
With a few more thrusts into your mouth in an almost apathetic way, without any hesitation— she released all of her salty seed into your mouth. Slowing pulling away as she swayed the rest of her cum inside, the lose of contact made a popping noise. “Shit.” Yunjin examined how good you looked as she slowly pulled off your mask, to admire the cum and saliva dribbling down your mouth. Ripping her hands away from your hair, she placed her thumb on where the main stream of liquid resided, and pushed everything back into your mouth. “Swallow it up.” Yunjin demanded, watching you make a show out of it, going as far as to open your mouth after you finished. “Mm, good girl.”
urgahfhhhh I was gonna add so much more but after this I got drained smh. full on smut sex scene cummin’ up when I feel like it LOL!!!!
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