#like i try to change it up a little so i'm not always tagging the same people
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─── FEB FILTH FEST: Birthday - BREEDING ♡
SUMMARY / Adorable newlyweds, and your husband seems stuck on wanting to have kids.
warnings ✩ SMUT, FLUFF, switch! wooyoung, dom!reader, fem!reader, established relationship, you two just got married, reader is insecure, unprotected sex, light body worship, praise, oral (m), mommy kink
word count ✩ 2,26k
tags ✩ @desirehorizon @tangerineastronaut @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @bbdeongi @dawn-iscozy @xh01bri @mallielovssyou @clxssy1997 @soreberry @nopension@kitten4sannie@faeriehwas@lustfxq @ashistrashhhhhh
ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST / FEB FILTH FEST
"Wooyoung, look at this!" you stand from the couch holding your laptop, running over to his desk and sitting your computer next to his. "These curtains would like nice in our room, right? They're so cute!"
Wooyoung glances over at the screen, smiling slightly. "Sure, love, whatever you want. Just don't let your online shopping exceed the budget," he jokes, his eyes not leaving his spreadsheet.
You roll your eyes playfully. "As if you ever care about the budget," you tease, nudging his shoulder with yours. He chuckles and finally looks up, his eyes scanning the webpage briefly before nodding in agreement.
"What's that?" he referred to the recommended items under the one you were looking at.
"Oh. Curtains for baby rooms." Your voice trails off as you realize what you've clicked on. You furrow your eyebrows and stare at them for a while, causing Wooyoung to stare at you.
"You…okay? You're staring at the screen like you want to blow it up." Wooyoung's voice pierces through the silence, a hint of concern in his tone.
You laugh nervously, "Yeah, sorry, just lost in thought." You quickly switch tabs to hide the baby products, feeling your cheeks warm up. "It's nothing."
He smirked a little bit. "No, cmon! Tell me! Did you see something weird?" He leans over, trying to get a peek at the hidden tab.
You swat his hand away. "It's just… I've been thinking about our future a lot lately."
Wooyoung sits up straight in his chair, his smile widening. "And what does our future look like?
You bite your lip, trying to figure out the best way to bring up the topic that's been weighing on your mind. "Well, it's just… I know you've talked about starting a family soon."
"A lot. I've been talking about it a lot. I keep sending you cute baby videos and you act like you don't see them." he blinks at you with his innocent puppy eyes.
You can't help but laugh at his persistence. "I see them. I just don't always know what to say." You admit, your heart racing as you prepare to share your feelings. "But, it's not like I don't want kids I just…"
"You just…? What?" Wooyoung asks, his smile fading slightly as he senses your hesitance.
You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "I just--I see all those videos of moms who's body change so much when they're pregnant and some of their husbands leave them. It scares me." You finally spit out.
Wooyoung's smile fades completely as he looks at you seriously. "What? Who would do that?"
You shrug, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I don't know. I've heard of it happening. Plus, there's all the stress and responsibility that comes with having kids. I think I'm ready for all that! Just…not the physical part…"
"Well, I'd never leave you. And we can always support each other through the tough parts," Wooyoung says gently, placing his hand on your thigh. His thumb makes small circles, trying to soothe your nerves. "And however your body changes, I won't stop thinking you're hot."
You give him a weak smile, feeling a bit better. "Thanks, but it's not just that. It's everything. The diapers, the crying, the sleepless nights…"
"And I'll do it all if I have to." Wooyoung's voice is firm and reassuring. He stands up from his chair and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. "But we don't have to rush into anything. We can wait until you're ready. We're young, we have time."
"No, I -- I do want kids! I'm super sure of that! A-And I don't mind doing all the mom stuff! Just, y'know, what if I turn into some ugly goblin." You laugh nervously, trying to lighten the mood.
Wooyoung looks into your eyes, his gaze serious. "You'll never be a goblin to me. You'll be the most beautiful mom, because you're beautiful inside and out." His words hit you like a warm embrace, wrapping around your insecurities and giving you a comforting squeeze.
"You'll be gorgeous carrying my baby," he kissed your cheek. "Walkin' around all pregnant and happy, I'd love that."
"Ewww, it sounds like you have a breeding kink." you tease him, trying to lighten the mood with a playful giggle.
Wooyoung just stared at you and didn't answer. You stare back and gasp lightly, "You do, don't you?"
He instantly got red. "N-No! I don't I just-"
"It's fine if you do! You wanna get me pregnant that bad-?!" You laugh, poking him in the stomach. His cheeks turn a deep shade of red, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he tightens his embrace, his arms secure around you.
"…Oh my god, Wooyoung-" you pause. "Are you hard-?!"
Wooyoung's eyes widen and he clears his throat, trying to maintain eye contact. "….Maybe."
You burst into laughter, poking him again. "Oh my god, you do! You're so adorable!" You lean into his embrace, feeling his heartbeat against your chest. It's comforting, a steady rhythm that calms your racing thoughts.
"Can we go deal with…this though?!" he gulped gesturing toward his bulge. You couldn't help but laugh at his sudden shyness, a stark contrast to his usual playful demeanor.
"Aw, yes baby." You say, a playful smirk forming on your lips as you slide your hand down to grip his hardening erection through his pants. "Let's go to the bedroom, shall we?"
He nods and you pull him along, his hand in yours as you lead him to the bedroom. The tension in the air shifts from the previous conversation, now charged with a different kind of excitement. As you enter the room, Wooyoung locks the door behind you, his eyes never leaving yours. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his desire for you as palpable as the air around you.
"You want me to touch you?" you ask coyly, your voice low and sultry as you trace a line from his neck to his collarbone with your finger. Wooyoung nods eagerly, his eyes darkening with lust as he watches your every move. You lean in closer, your breath tickling his ear as you whisper, "Where do you want me to touch you?"
"Baby, please." Wooyoung's voice is low, a pleading whisper that sends shivers down your spine. You feel empowered, knowing you have this effect on him. You bite your lower lip, your eyes scanning his body hungrily as you decide where to begin. You decide to tease him a bit more, tracing the outline of his erection through his pants, feeling it throb under your touch.
"No, let's use a different name…" you go silent for a minute. "Mommy, maybe? You like that?" You say with a mischievous grin.
Wooyoung's eyes widen and he swallows hard. "Yeah, I like that," he breathes, his voice thick with desire. You both laugh, the tension dissipating as you both embrace the playfulness of the moment.
"Yeah?" you tug at his sweatpants. "You want mommy to make you feel good?"
Wooyoung's eyes are glued to yours, his breathing hitched. "Yeah," he manages to get out. You smirk, feeling a thrill at the power play. You push him back gently onto the bed, straddling him. He watches as you pull his pants down, revealing his thick cock. You lean down, your eyes never leaving his, and wrap your lips around the tip. He groans, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair.
"F-Fuck," Wooyoung gasps as you start to bob your head, taking him deeper into your mouth. His hands tighten their grip on your hair, guiding you as you find a rhythm that makes him squirm beneath you. You can feel his cock pulse with every stroke, and you know you're driving him wild.
"M-Mommy-" Wooyoung's voice is a needy whine that sends a thrill down your spine. You suck harder, feeling his cock swell in your mouth. Every other time you sucked him off, it felt different. But now, with the new dynamic, it's like you're discovering each other all over again. You let one hand stroke him while the other moved down your body, pushing under your pants.
Your own arousal is evident as you feel how wet you've become. You pushed him down your throat, feeling his cock hit the back of it and gag, only to pull back and do it again. Wooyoung's hips start to thrust upward slightly, his control slipping as he gets lost in the pleasure. You can feel his heart racing under your palm where it's resting on his chest, his breaths coming in short, sharp bursts.
"I-I'm gonna come-" Wooyoung warns, his voice strained with pleasure. You moan around his cock, the vibration sending him over the edge. He comes in your mouth and you swallow, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over you. You sit back, licking your lips as you watch him catch his breath.
"Lay back," you stand, pushing your pants and underwear down, revealing your wet pussy. "Let mommy take care of herself now." You climb onto the bed, your heart racing with excitement as you straddle his hips.
"You're so pretty," he says, his voice still shaky from his orgasm. He watches as you hover above him, his eyes fixated on your glistening core.
"Am I?" you giggle, rubbing yourself back and forth on his cock, which is already starting to harden again. "You like watching?"
"Mhm," he nods, his eyes not leaving the sight of your pussy gently brushing against his cock. You lean back, supporting yourself on your hands, and lower yourself down onto him. He gasps as you take him in, inch by inch, his length stretching you open. You've done this countless times before, but the new name play has added an extra layer of excitement to the act.
"Fuck-" he inhales sharply. "M-Mommy, you're so tight," he groans, his eyes rolling back as you start to move. You bounce up and down on him, your walls clenching around his cock as you ride him. The sensation of being filled up by him while calling him 'baby' is new and exhilarating.
"I-I love you, your body, everything…" he stammers, his voice thick with pleasure as you rock against him. You lean forward, pressing your breasts against his chest as you start to pick up the pace, your movements growing more urgent. The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping together and your moans of pleasure.
He wraps his fingers in your hair, his other hand on your back. "Don't stop-" he begs, his eyes closed as he feels you ride him with an intensity that borders on desperation. You lean down and kiss him, your tongues dancing as you move together. His taste is still on your lips, a mix of salt and sweetness that drives you wild.
"God, I want your cum so bad," you chuckle, your voice breathless as you ride him, the feeling of his cock moving inside you making your walls quiver. "I bet you wanna fill me up so bad."
Wooyoung's eyes snap open, his gaze fiery as he looks up at you. "Mommy," he says, the word slipping out almost involuntarily. "I'm going to come."
"Yes, baby, come for mommy," you whisper, your voice a siren's call as you continue to bounce on his cock. The idea of him filling you up, breeding you, sends a thrill through your body that only intensifies your desire. You feel your own orgasm approaching as you lean into the role, your hips moving faster and more erratically.
"Fill me up," you purr, playing into his newfound kink. You can feel his cock twitch inside you, his body taut with anticipation. You lean back, arching your spine as you increase your rhythm, watching his expression contort with pleasure. The power of bringing him to the edge like this, calling him 'baby' in such a way, is intoxicating.
Wooyoung shut his eyes tightly and gripped your hips, his body trembling as you whispered those words into his ear. The thought of you actually being full of his cum once he filled you up was too much for him to handle. He felt his orgasm building as your pussy clenched around his cock.
"Cmon, give it to me. Get me pregnant," you say in a playful but urgent tone. "I wanna have your kids."
"Mommy-" he gasped, his hips jerking upwards as he felt his orgasm approaching. "I-I'm gonna f-fill you up," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. He moaned as his load emptied into you, the sensation of his hot seed filling you making him shiver with pleasure.
But you didn't stop. You kept going, bouncing up and down on his cock as he spurted his cum deep inside you. "Mm, yeah, baby," you murmur, feeling his warmth fill you up. "Give me all of it." Wooyoung's eyes fly open in surprise, his orgasm hitting harder than he expected as he watches you take his cum hungrily. His hips thrust upward, pushing himself deeper into you, his hands digging into your hips as he releases his seed.
"O-Oh my god-!" he gasps, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he feels you milking his cock for every last drop. "Y-You're so fucking good at this," he stammers, his voice laced with awe. The taboo nature of the role play has unlocked a primal need in him, and you can see it in the way he looks at you - with a mix of love and raw desire.
#february filth fest#ateez#ateez hard hours#ateez smut#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez x reader#wooyoung smut#wooyoung fluff#wooyoung ateez#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung hard thoughts#wooyoung hard hours#Spotify
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i got tagged by @zaegreus 💕 thank you!!
people I'd like to get to know better
last song/album: i was listening to abba while doing some dishes or something, and according to spotify the last song was knowing me, knowing you (a great song!! also unfortunately kinda relatable for me lately!)
favorite color: green and blue!
sweet, spicy or savory: i can only pick one? i guess it has to be sweet. i love chocolate too much
last tv show: i guess i haven't been watching anything else since my terror rewatches :D
last film: i went to see the zone of interest a week or two ago!
last thing i looked up online: this is a boring one - i often check meanings of words and sayings to make sure i'm using them right 😅 and last night i was reading and had to look up some words again.
relationship status: recently single, which is definitely for the best. however, i'm also finding out that breaking up didn't magically fix the fact that i feel lonely and undesirable and touch starved. i'd have to actually put in some effort and meet new people to change any of that. oof.
current obsession: to the surprise of absolutely none of my followers, it's still the terror and/or the franklin expedition. things are getting so bad that i'm this close to terrorposting on my normie social media (mostly instagram). like, at some point i want to post some of my sketches for my irls to see, and i keep drafting some ig stories, and then i write something like "he's my favorite soup ingredient boy" and go like ookaayy maybe i shouldn't post that
i'm tagging @jurassic-cunt @seresuns @joondemiel @sparrow30 and anyone else who wants to do this! 😇
#tag games#i'm always blanking on who i should tag#like i try to change it up a little so i'm not always tagging the same people#also if anyone doesn't want to be tagged anymore pls let me know 😅
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Get to know your mutuals!
Thanks for the tag @leapingbadger! LET'S GO!
What's the origin of your blog title? EDIT: I'm stupid, it says "blog title". So, "Daughter of Eve" is one of the names they call humans in Narnia. It used to be "Management Trainee Skywalker" from that Chinese bootleg of ROTS, but as much as I like that one, something really unpleasant happened to my blog during the time it was my name, and every time I open my page, I read it, and be reminded of that one time, so I decided to change it. (One day, I will have the courage to tell that event, but for now, I'll begin to get over it.)
But I don't wanna waste this. So, for the origin of my username: Jupiter's Moon. Amalthea is one of Jupiter's moon. I first used this for League of Legends, and unfortunately, 'Amalthea' is already taken so I tried to change the 'e' into 'i', and that's how I ended up with this spelling.
OTP(s) + Shipname: OKAY, this is going to be great. The answer is Caspian x Susan. They're my first ever OTP. I want to begin this with saying I really like the book canon Caspian x Ramandu's Daughter but Caspian x Susan ended up being a lot more interesting to me. IDK what's up with me but I always go for the ship that doesn't end up together, bec I think happily ever afters are boring, give me some angst, some wishful longing, the AUs, the fix-its, these things are what makes a ship interesting.
Some of the other ships I like are LeviHan (RIP Hange), Zutara (we all know how this ended), Tech x Phee (I still wanna believe Tech lives), and Anidala (this is self-explanatory).
Favorite color: Canary yellow. But for art, layout, and clothes, I like shades of brown.
Favorite game: League of Legends, Need for Speed, Criminal Case, Minecraft
Song stuck in your head: The World Will Know from Newsies: The Broadway Musical
Weirdest habit/trait? Here, let me revise the question: "What's not weird about you?"
Hobbies: Drawing, Reading, Singing
If you work, what's your profession? Architect (I just passed the licensure examination!)
If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Any job where I'll be able to design spaces. Designing is therapeutic to me.
Something you're good at: Art.
Something you're bad at: Human-ing
Something you love: My cat, my family, my hyperfixations.
Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: Star Wars, Narnia, and Newsies
Something you hate: Just like @leapingbadger, I also hate the current state of the world, especially in the country I live in. Election is once again near, and the leading senatorial candidates in the polls are not-so-good people. There are agriculturists, a great lawyer ,an animal rights activist, and a labor rights activist running for senate but the majority of the people in this country surely won't vote for them because "they're ugly" or "they're not stars".
Something you collect: hatred, and Lego sets, and books
Something you forget: I'll do you a better one: "Name something you don't forget".
What's your love language? Acts of service. Also remembering the tiny details of the stories I tell.
Favorite movie/show: Star Wars (with the exception of the Sequels and Resistance), Narnia, and Newsies
Favorite food: Tinola.
Favorite animal: Cats. I accidentally typed "cars" but you would have gotten it anyway.
What were you like as a child? Quiet, introverted, and stuck in her own little world.
Favorite subject at school? Maybe English. Also geometry.
Least favorite subject: Chemistry
What's your best character trait? I like to learn as much of anything as I can, also very observant. Oftentimes, it ticks me off when people aren't like that.
What's your worst character trait? I'll do you a better one: "Is there a character trait of you that isn't bad?"
If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? Try "What do you not want to change?"
If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? Serial killers a day before being executed. I have so many questions.
Tag as many mutuals as you want!! (Sorry if you've been tagged before): @loge2718 @mimpinightmare @dragonrider9905 @ahsokastechie
Get to know your mutuals!
What's the origin of your blog title? When I was in middle school, someone told me "you dress so goth, but your personality is so happy. You're like a really cheerful grim reaper. A joyful soul collector." And that's been my username for most everything ever since!
OTP(s) + Shipname: Oooh, right now it's Jayvik, and tbh I can't think of another one, this is one of the first ships I've been really really into tbh. Other dynamics focused on my blog have actually been more platonic, like Irondad
Favorite color: Red!
Favorite game: Dungeons and Dragons! Both as a player, and DM!
Song stuck in your head: The Challenge - EPIC
Weirdest habit/trait? I download thousands of still frames of tv shows that I love so I can make memes out of them. But I have to sift through and delete all the pictures that are blurry or unnecessary, which takes hours. I think it's super fun because I'm autistic and really enjoy sorting stuff lol
Hobbies: Writing, playing DnD, making memes, and hanging out with my friends!
If you work, what's your profession? Not so much a profession lol, I work at a toy store. It's a part time job while I'm in college, studying to be a radiologist!
If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Realistically? Radiologist. But ANY job I wish? Professional DM or Professional DnD player, like the people on Dropout or Critical Role haha
Something you're good at: I'm good at writing stories! I can write them well and write things that make people feel deep emotions, and I like that.
Something you're bad at: Recognizing when someone doesn't want help haha. I tend to try and fix things or help people when they just want to vent, and it ends up frustrating for both of us.
Something you love: I love stories. Any kind, I love so so many
Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: My favorite shows and stories, my dnd campaigns and characters, my stories and ideas
Something you hate: Fascism. Bigotry. Willful ignorance. Fearmongering. Propaganda.
Something you collect: Dice!! I'm a dice goblin for sure haha
Something you forget: I often forget chores unfortunately
What's your love language? Physical touch and acts of service
Favorite movie/show: Ooh right now it's definitely Arcane haha
Favorite food: Sushi!
Favorite animal: Cats!
What were you like as a child? In a word? Unwell haha. I'm a good bit better now, still struggling with a lot, but better than I used to do
Favorite subject at school? English, I was always good at that class
Least favorite subject: Chemistry. I hate that shit so much lol
What's your best character trait? I think that I'm kind and willing to stand up for others
What's your worst character trait? I can be disrespectful to some types of spirituality unfortunately. It just doesn't make logical sense to me. I have two friends that are fully convinced that a cursed doll gave some youtuber testicular cancer. And I just can't see the logic or critical thought in that
If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? Mmm. All of fascism shit is definitely damaging my calm so I'd love to change that specifically
If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? Harry Allen. Google him he's a badass transgender cowboy
Tag as as many mutuals as you want!!
@sb-essebi @glitternightingale @blatterpussbunnyfromhell @captainhollowstories @kydrogendragon @misforvendetta @poetryinmotion-author @bocularteletheric @kai-ovillager @thatoneneuvichiliauthor @4amarcanethoughts @alexspearsxoxo @kotonni @buckybucananbarnes @kakesuwolf @martybaker @patheticjayce @sleepycrowhours @aixabi @up-the-bracket @snoopyviktor @emdashflower @humanshapedstress @hellsalore @juuzousmom @softandslow @fangirlshenanigans04 @batmans-attic @lvrstrsh @bluemoyai @tearexxwrites @bodyofvvater @lifeandeathepub @areesespiece @lancesblueazaleas @monaisme @milkywaysipper @carmendyy @tseecka @heazueken @tophat-69 @velocitychroma @prjctdiva @gremlinofchaos @ourvectorviktor @kenjinx @jxmimac @gh0stedvhampir @voxconcordia @arcaneheraldslawyer
ngl I tried to tag ALL my mutuals that I have, but this was how many it allowed me to do before it made me stop lol so here's as many as I could fit!
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.
#it's 1am and i'm depressed and don't want to go to bed#there's such an unbelievable amount of century-defining tragedy and horror in the world rn#and i know that’s always true but jfc we know about so much more of it simultaneously now#like i'm supposed to be chill and functional in the face of war pandemic climate change forever chemicals micro plastics and fascism?#and and and?#i'm supposed to smile and ask follow-up questions when people tell me about vacations to Hawaii#rather than shaking them and saying holy fuck stop doing that please learn about the ramifications and historical context of your actions#i'm supposed to smile and give a measured response when a new coworker asks my other coworker and me#when they can/SHOULD use generative AI *for work purposes*#rather than screaming and throwing articles at them about the environmental impact of LLM bullshit#and that's all large scale#that's not getting into the fact that there's a growing family chilliness over refusal to communicate about I/P shit#or the fact that my mom is dying slowly and hates it and is worsening her relationship with my siblings little by little#or the fact that I'm peeling away at my sanity trying to process a divorce and get healthcare for my cat and dental care for myself#or the fact that it takes hours of research to find DISH SOAP THAT DOESN’T KILL THE MICROBIOMES OF THE LOCAL WATER SUPPLY#(10/10 recommend 'blueland' for that if you're reading btw)#like i'm painfully aware of the back-patting level of efficacy that i have for buying different soap and going to the farmer's market#but there's only so much i can do so i have to try to do what i can right? but it's so little and everything is so much#and my mental health is a mess; the fact that my particular neurotype is known to get more volatile with age scares the shit oit of me#like it's this bad at 33 and it gets WORSE?#my job is great for personal privilege but so *so* meaningless and redundant#and how tf do i look at all of this and not feel fucking hopeless?#i can distract myself with my garden but the candide approach was myopic even in the 17th century so it's hard to justify now#I'm so tired#just... fuck man#tag rant#i should delete this but I'll forget if you read this far i hope it wasnt damaging to your mental health#i just had to let off the brain scream pressure somewhere
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Making a blog after years of only getting by with casual use of other more common social media has been some of the most self-fulfilling stuff I could've done on the internet. It's like a public scrapbook except 80% of the content is just. Me dabbling in niche hobbies or buying weird materials on the web for one random project instead of trying to consistently post only about one single hobby
#text#Reconnecting with what made the internet fun y'know?#Seriously though I could never go back to “Content”-driven posting and getting bummed out by an algorithm. I'm a wholeass onion with layers#This blog makes me try a bunch of shit I wouldn't have done if I was just like. Look at my cosplay progress and my cosplay photos and my co#Picked up so many little mini projects. Trying new stuff. It's way more fun cause when ppl are interested you get to read fun tags in notes#And with everyone else having a blog it really humanizes every individual that leaves a like... Always love checking the blogs#But the biggest change is that I'll find myself scrolling through my own blog and just. Y'know. Goin' thru the memories and aesthetics.#Just curating a little corner o' me on the internet and stuff. It's good for the brain to me
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Return To You
♡︎ synopsis: You rely on Sylus to keep you warm on a winter getaway.
♡︎pairing: Sylus x fem!reader
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/09c4ae9b9c3f47a8daa5a2a581af37e6/9e58fdf75c49e2fd-a1/s540x810/2e10a3b5c08b30aa190f3618448f109d4b929846.jpg)
♡︎ tags: fluff, oral (female receiving), love making (for a change)
♡︎ word count: 6.1k
♡︎ a/n: some cute holiday fluff for @hesperisms 💕✨
♡︎ Not beta read, but I'm still giving a shoutout to my dearest friend and my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎.
divider by @anitalenia
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/09c4ae9b9c3f47a8daa5a2a581af37e6/9e58fdf75c49e2fd-a1/s540x810/2e10a3b5c08b30aa190f3618448f109d4b929846.jpg)
The town square looks like a winter wonderland straight out of a postcard. Fairy lights shimmer like little stars from every tree, their warm glow reflected on the thin snowy blanket and salt-covered cobblestones. The air carries the sweet scent of roasted chestnuts, caramel apples, and spiced mulled wine – the aromas making your mouth water with every step as you lead, or better yet, drag Sylus towards the ice rink. You’d been eyeing the rink all night, and now, with only a handful of skaters, it’s the perfect time to venture out.
You turn to Sylus who is dressed impeccably, as always, his coat tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders. You can’t help but smile at his rosy cheeks and nose, the color from the winter air making him look less intimidating. Though, he still stands out in this festive setting.
"You’ve been indulging me all day," you say, leaning closer to him, pulling his focus back to you. "I think it’s time to try something fun together."
He raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking in a small, amused smirk. "And your idea of fun is strapping blades to our feet and risking broken bones?"
You laugh. "C’mon, it’s almost empty!" You nod towards the skate rental stand. “Let’s go and get our skates!”
"Our?" he repeats. "I’m more than happy to watch you make a spectacle of yourself while I stay safely on solid ground."
You pout, crossing your arms over your winter coat. "That’s not fair. I’m not good at this, and I need someone strong to keep me upright."
Sylus doesn’t say anything for a moment, his gaze shifting back to the ice rink, then to you, his brow furrowing slightly.
"Don’t tell me you’ve never ice-skated before," you tease, a grin tugging at your lips.
"I didn’t say that," he replies smoothly. "I’m simply saying I prefer to observe."
"That’s just a fancy way of saying you’re bad at it," you counter and playfully nudge his side with your elbow. "Please, Sylus? It’ll be fun. I promise not to let go of your hand."
His mouth opens as if to argue, but your wide-eyed, pleading look stops him. He exhales slowly, a puff of mist curling in the air between you, and shakes his head with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.
"Fine," he mutters. "But if I fall, you’re to blame."
You beam at him, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the skate rental stand. "Deal! But I’m warning you now—I’m terrible at this, so we might both fall."
As the cheerful attendant hands over your skates, you glance up at Sylus.
"Thank you," you whisper, squeezing his hand.
"Don’t thank me yet," he replies, as he looks at the skates. "Let’s see if we survive this first."
As you step onto the rink, Sylus’ grip on your hand tightens, the grip of his gloved hand firm and his presence reassuring against the slippery unpredictability of the ice. He steps further, leading you slowly with him. His fitness and natural grace give him an edge, but you can tell by the slight furrow in his brow that he’s carefully adjusting to the sensation of skating.
"You need to keep your knees slightly bent," Sylus instructs as he glances down at you wobbling by his side.
You giggle nervously, your free hand flailing slightly for balance. "Easier said than done! This is harder than I remember."
He watches you with a mixture of amusement and focus as you take a cautious step forward. "Relax. Lean forward slightly— I know you can do it."
Following his instructions, you do as you’re told, feeling a little more stable as you start to glide, although slowly. Sylus moves alongside you, his strides smooth and confident now, his hand never letting go of yours.
"You’re a natural," you tease, grinning up at him.
"Hardly," he replies with a small smirk. "But at least one of us needs to stay upright."
The sound of your laughter fills the crisp air as you grow bolder, gliding a little faster, though your feet still wobble occasionally. Sylus keeps up with you effortlessly, his focus shifting between your movements and the icy terrain ahead. At one point, as you make a sharper turn, your skate catches slightly, making you stumble. Before you can hit the ice, Sylus’ arm wraps securely around your waist, pulling you close.
"Careful, kitten." he murmurs, as he steadies you.
You laugh, your cheeks flushed from the cold and him. "Thank you. You’re like my personal safety net."
Sylus’ lips twitch in a faint smile, but he says nothing, his hand lingering on your waist for a moment longer before he releases you. Feeling emboldened after a few minutes of smooth gliding, you try to add a little twist, lifting your arms and attempting a small spin. The move immediately throws you off balance, and before you can topple over, Sylus catches you again, his grip firm but careful.
"No spins," he says firmly, leaving no room for negotiation.
"But—"
"You’re going to hurt yourself," he interrupts. Even though he is serious, you can see that he’s amused by your confidence in your skills.
You pout playfully. "Fine. But only if you promise we’ll come back for more ice-skating dates until I can spin."
Sylus sighs, the mist leaving his lips with the faint smile. "Fine. We’ll come back. But only if you promise not to try anything reckless again."
"Deal," you say brightly, grabbing his hand again as you continue gliding across the ice.
Though Sylus was reluctant at first, he finds that skating isn’t so bad as he watches you enjoy yourself. The cold air bites at your cheeks, your laughter echoing in the winter night, and for a brief moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you on the shimmering ice.
⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.
After leaving the ice rink, a little flushed and breathless, Sylus leads you through the bustling rows of stalls. He buys you your favorite candy, while he picks out some odd, colorful confections for himself—strange mix of flavors that you wouldn’t have dared to try, but he seems intrigued.
As you stroll further, your eyes catch on a vibrant display of oversized plushies at a game stall. A particularly cute dragon plushie catches your attention, its soft fabric shimmering slightly under the lights. You figure that this is a good time to regain some dignity you lost on the ice. You step up to the booth, pay the attendant, and pick up the air rifle. The attendant’s jaw practically drops as you shoot all the targets effortlessly, and Sylus’ admiration shines evident as he watches you from the side.
“Is there any space left in your apartment for more toys?” he remarks as you hug the plushie to your chest.
You shrug with a self-satisfied smile. “If not, I’ll just bring some to you.”
He chuckles, slipping his hand into yours as you continue walking through the festive town, the dragon plushie tucked snugly under your arm.
⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.
Back at the cozy lodge, you push the door open, greeted by the warmth and the comforting scent of cedar and cinnamon. Sylus steps in behind you, his arms carrying bags of candies, trinkets, and wrapped gifts you’d picked out for your friends back home. You set your dragon plushie on the couch, fluffing its wings a little before turning to help him organize everything. He puts down a bottle of on the kitchen counter and you find the small bundle of herbs you’d picked out. After setting everything down, you feel the weight of the day in your limbs. Your arms and thighs ache from all the skating and carrying bags, but it’s almost a satisfying buzz in your muscles.
Sylus turns to you, tilting his head slightly. “You’re slowing down,” he says.
“I’m not slowing down,” you protest, but a yawn betrays you. “Okay, maybe a little.”
“Come on,” he says, motioning toward the hallway. “Let’s clean up. The bathtub’s big enough to fit both of us.”
You glance at him, but he’s already on his way to the bathroom, so you follow behind, almost giddy at the thought of a relaxing bath.
⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.
He adjusts the temperature in the shower while you start to light candles around the room. Steam begins to fill the air, carrying the faint scent of the bath salts you placed by the tub. Stripping down, you step into the shower together. The warm spray cascades over your skin, washing away the remnants of the day’s adventures.
Once clean, you both step out and towel off. Sylus moves to the bathtub, sprinkling the bath salts into the hot water, the scent rising as he swirls the water with his hand, testing the temperature.
“Perfect,” he murmurs and takes your hand in his, helping you step into the tub first.
A relieved sigh leaves your lips as the hot water envelops you, the salts already working their magic on your tired muscles. Sylus follows, settling in across from you his broad shoulders just visible above the water’s shimmering surface. His silver hair clings to his forehead in damp strands, and his gaze is softened by the dim light as he takes in the sight of you.
You let out a long sigh, your eyes fluttering closed as you lean your head back against the bath pillow. “Well,” you mumble, “goodnight.”
A low, amused chuckle rumbles from his chest. Without a word, his leg nudges yours under the water, his foot brushing lightly against your calf, making your eyes flick open and look at him in mock annoyance.
“You can’t fall asleep here,” he says with a grin tugging at his lips.
You grin back, letting your toes nudge his shin in retaliation. “I wouldn’t. There’s hardly any room for my legs anyway, with yours taking up all the space.”
Sylus shifts slightly, the movement causing ripples across the water’s surface, as he lifts a hand and gestures toward you.
"Come here." he says, his voice low.
Your heart skips a beat at the invitation, but you don’t hesitate. Shifting forward, you move carefully through the water, as you settle in the space between his legs. He reaches up, his hands brushing lightly against your shoulders, and the weight of them is reassuring, grounding.
“Would you like a massage?” he asks, his breath warm against your damp neck.
“Yes, please,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
His hands begin to move, firm but gentle at the same time, starting at the curve of your shoulders. His thumbs press into the tense muscles there, working out knots you didn’t realize were still lingering from the day. A sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it. His hands slide down, from your shoulders to your arms, taking a moment to squeeze gently at the tension in your biceps before moves on the muscles of your upper back. Every touch melts away the strain of the evening. The water sways gently around you both, the soft ripples lapping against your skin.
“You’re easy to please,” he murmurs, a faint smile audible in his tone.
“Not true,” you counter, though the words lack conviction “Okay, maybe a little true.”
“You’re good at this,” you admit, your voice drowsy from the combination of his touch and the heat of the bath. His hands move to the back of your neck, his thumbs pressing into just the right spot to make you exhale deeply.
“I know. I have good hands.” he replies with amusement in his tone.
You laugh softly, letting your head rest against his chest for a moment as his hands finish their slow journey over your back, neck, and arms. Then, his hands slide around you, wrapping gently across your middle. You let out a soft, contented sigh as you fully lean back against him. Sylus rests his chin against the top of your head as he adjusts to hold you more snugly, his breath tickling the crown of your head. For a moment, neither of you speaks. Your eyes flutter closed, and you know that his are likely closed too, the tension you sensed in him earlier replaced by a rare ease.
You shift slightly, turning your cheek to rest against his chest, and the subtle vibration of his breath hums beneath your skin. You rest your hands on his forearms, your thumbs to kneading gently into his muscles. He hums in approval, the low sound vibrating against you.
Sylus’ hands start to move, his palms gliding over your stomach, as they settle on the curve of your waist, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive dip of your sides. Your breath catches as his hands venture lower, skimming over your thighs. His fingers linger there, kneading the muscle with firm, expert precision, but your legs remain closed. A soft moan escapes your lips, and you feel Sylus’ breath against your neck as he leans forward. His lips press against the curve where your shoulder meets your neck, planting slow, languid kisses that send tingling warmth through you.
“Relax,” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper. His hands shifting upward now, his fingers grazing just beneath the swell of your breasts, his touch featherlight, drawing another gasp from you.
Your heartbeat quickens as his hands finally move higher, cupping your breasts. His palms glide over the soft, wet skin, his thumbs circling your nipples in a way that makes you arch slightly against him, pressing into his chest. The combination of his teasing touch and the sensation of his lips against your neck leaves you utterly lost in the moment.
His lips trail higher, brushing against your jawline, before the warmth of Sylus' hands leaves your skin. His palms slide gently from your breasts before wrapping around your middle. He presses a kiss to your temple. "The water’s getting cold," he murmurs, his embrace tightening for just a moment.
You sigh, reluctant to leave the comfort of the tub and his embrace. "You’re right." you reply, your voice tinged with disappointment.
Sylus is the first to step out of the tub, water dripping down his toned physique as he offers you a hand. His grip is firm, steadying you as you rise, goosebumps spreading all over your wet skin. Your gaze unintentionally drops—and there it is. Your cheeks burn, and Sylus catches your look, a teasing smirk curling at his lips. “We’ll handle that later.” he says smoothly.
You bite your lip as you avert your gaze, heart fluttering as you grab a towel. After you dry off and pull on your bathrobe, the plush fabric warm against your skin, an idea pops into your head. Still slightly damp, you practically skip to your luggage bag.
Sylus watches you with a raised brow, leaning casually against the doorframe as he ties his robe around his waist. “What are you up to now?”
“Wait and see!” you say, as you unzip the bag and pull out the matching pajama set you’d hidden there—a playful, festive pattern of candy canes and gingerbread men. It smells faintly of your fabric softener, the scent wafting up as you hold it out to him.
Sylus takes the set from your hands, his eyes narrowing as he inspects the goofy design. He exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Of course, you’d pick something like this,”
“You’re wearing it,” you say firmly with a giddy smile.
With a mock sigh of resignation, Sylus slips into the pajamas, the soft fabric snug against his frame. You bite your lip to stifle a laugh, but he catches the gleam in your eyes.
“Laugh it up,” he says. "I’ll remember this.”
You grin unabashedly, slipping into your matching set before leading him out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen, eager to make mulled wine. Sylus opens the wine bottle while you gather the spices and a small pot. The two of you move seamlessly, your bodies brushing now and then as you prepare. The smell of cinnamon, cloves, and citrus soon fills the air, mixing with the aroma of red wine. As the wine simmers gently on the stove, Sylus excuses himself briefly, heading toward the living room. Moments later, the faint sound of a match striking is followed by the soft crackle of the fireplace. The warm scent of wood begins to fill the air, mingling with the spicy aroma of the mulled wine bubbling in the kitchen.
When he returns to the stove, you leave the kitchen to him and go around the other rooms, gathering every pillow and blanket you could find. Then you go to the living room where you arrange them into a cozy nest on the plush rug, settling everything just right by the fire. Satisfied with your work, you sit down and wrap yourself in one of the soft blankets, snuggling into it as you hold a well-loved box of Travel Size Kitty Cards in your hands.
When Sylus steps into the room carrying two steaming mugs of mulled wine, his lips quirk into an amused smile as he takes in the sight of you, warm and snug, holding the deck of cards. “Do you really want to spend the evening losing to me at this?”
“Losing?” You pout, shuffling the cards with more determination now. “You think you’re so good at this game, don’t you? Luck doesn’t count as skill.”
Sylus arches a brow. “Luck is a skill when you know how to use it.” He says as he sits across from you.
You roll your eyes, finishing the shuffle and placing the deck between you. “Alright, three rounds. I’ll win at least two, and when I do—” you lean forward with a cocky grin— “we’re buying matching reindeer onesies tomorrow.”
He shakes his head. “Reindeer onesies? That’s your wager?” He pauses, feigning deep contemplation, then leans closer. “Fine. But if I win, you’re wearing the gift I got you for the rest of the night.”
Your cheeks immediately heat at his words, your mind conjuring up images of delicate lace. You try to play it cool, though your blush betrays you, and you can’t quite meet his gaze. “Oh,” you murmur, “alright. Deal.”
His eyes catch every flicker of your expression. “You seem eager for me to win.”
You sigh, grabbing the deck of cards and start setting up the game. “Don’t get cocky, Sylus.” But as you focus on your hand, you find yourself secretly rooting for him, curious to see what he has picked out for you.
“Let’s see, then,” he murmurs, his voice rich with confidence as he picks up his cards. “Try to keep up.”
⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.
Sylus shakes his head as he gathers the cards, sliding them back into the little box, his smug grin never leaving his face.
"First round victory got you cocky," he teases. "And that, kitten, was your undoing."
You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms. "The wine clouded my judgment," you huff, your tone a mix of irritation and playful defiance.
Sylus chuckles as he sets the box aside. "We both know that’s not true," he replies. "You’ve had, what? One mug? Hardly enough to make you lose focus. So, really… it’s just you."
His grin widens as he leans back on one hand, utterly at ease while you sit there pouting. The firelight catches in his eyes, and the smugness radiating off him is maddening.
You feel your cheeks flush—not just from the fire or the wine. He’s right; you’re not drunk. The wine has only left you feeling perfectly warm, relaxed and a little tingly. And, unfortunately, that buzz has also heightened your awareness of him—the way he’s watching you, the faint curve of his lips both infuriating and unbearably attractive. You grumble something unintelligible, sinking further into your blanket cocoon, but Sylus, with his insufferable smirk, isn’t about to let you escape the moment unscathed.
He rises gracefully from the rug and he strides toward the bedroom. You watch him go, the wine’s gentle buzz amplifying your anticipation.
What could it be?
Your first thought is lingerie—something delicate and lacy, designed to make you blush the moment you open it. A dress, perhaps? you wonder. But then you dismiss the idea with a shake of your head; Sylus has already gifted you a breathtaking dress for the holiday banquet earlier this season. Maybe it’s a ridiculous onesie, you think. A cat? A sheep? Something he’d insist you wear just to tease you mercilessly the entire night. The mental image makes your cheeks flush, not entirely from embarrassment—because, honestly, you’d probably wear it, just to see that rare, carefree laugh of his.
Before your thoughts spiral further, Sylus returns, with a small box in his hands. Your breath catches. The unmistakable blue hue and the satin white bow make your eyes widen. He settles down across from you, and holds the box out. His smiles softly. "One of the gifts I brought for you," he says. "I thought it fitting for the trip."
Your heart flutters as you accept the gift. You gently tug at the bow, setting aside the satin ribbon, and your fingers tremble slightly as you lift the lid of the box. Your smile stretches wide the moment you see the necklace nestled inside the box, a heart-shaped pendant glimmering in the room’s dim light. Joy bubbles up in your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you lunge forward, wrapping Sylus in a tight hug.
"Thank you," you murmur against his shoulder.
His arms hold you firmly for a brief moment before you pull back just enough to plant a smooch on his lips, quick and filled with gratitude. He smiles against your lips, his hand brushing over your back before you settle back into your spot to admire the necklace again. You lift the chain, examining every detail of the stunning craftmanship. But as your eyes adjust to the dim light, you notice something different. Your brow furrows, and you tilt the pendant closer.
The usual engraving isn’t there.
Instead, in elegant script, you read: Please return to Onychinus N109 Zone.
Your heart flutters, the customization turning an already beautiful gift into something deeply personal.
Sylus notices your pause and leans forward slightly, his voice low and warm. "It felt more fitting this way."
You glance up at him, and all you can do is nod.
"Let me," he says softly, reaching for the necklace. You hand it to him, and he moves closer, draping the chain around your neck. His fingers brush against your skin as he fastens it, sending a small shiver down your spine. He leans back to admire his work, his eyes gleaming as they move from the pendant to your face.
"It suits you," he says.
"Thank you," you say again, your fingers brushing over the pendant, feeling its cool surface against your skin.
Sylus’ lips curl into a playful smirk as his gaze dips briefly to your outfit. "But those pajamas don’t really go with it."
You roll your eyes at the comment, but as you replay his words, you stop. Your eyes narrow in mock accusation. "Wait…"
Wear my gift for the rest of the night.
Your face heats, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coiling in your stomach as you glance down at the necklace. You’re acutely aware of his presence, of the way his eyes haven’t left yours.
"I—" you start, but the words catch in your throat as he shifts closer to you.
Sylus’ hands move slowly to the hem of your pajama top, his fingertips delicately brushing against the fabric, his eyes locked on your face, waiting for your permission. Wordlessly, you lift your arms, and his lips quirk in a soft smile. He takes his time pulling the top over your head, the cool air of the room kissing your skin as it becomes bare. A shiver runs through you, goosebumps rising along your arms and chest as your pajama top is discarded.
"I’m going to be cold the rest of the night now," you pout, half-joking.
Sylus leans forward, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. When he pulls back, he whispers against your lips. "I’ll make sure you stay warm."
His words send a jolt of heat straight to your core as he guides you down, his weight pressing you into the soft blanket beneath. Your legs part instinctively, inviting him closer. Sylus hovers over you, his lips finding yours in a slow, intoxicating kiss. The faint taste of wine clings to him, rich and heady, as his tongue teases yours. Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling him deeper, needing him closer. He growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth as he rolls his hips, grinding his hardness against your craving heat.
The sudden pressure against your clothed pussy makes you gasp into his mouth, your body arching into him as you feel the hard length of him straining against the fabric of his pajamas. Sylus pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his red eyes dark with hunger, his lips slick and swollen from the kiss. The firelight flickers over his sharp features, making him look devastatingly irresistible. His hips roll against yours again, grinding just right, pulling a desperate gasp from your lips as heat pools deep in your core.
He leans in, his breath tickling your skin before he drags his lips slowly along your pulse, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses that make your body arch into him. His tongue flicks over your skin, tasting you, the scrape of his teeth making you shiver beneath him.
He shifts slightly, his mouth traveling lower, trailing kisses down to your chest. A soft moan escapes your lips when his lips capture the peak of one breast. His tongue swirls around your nipple, teasing before he takes it into his mouth, sucking gently. At the same time, his fingers find your other breast, kneading it with care, his thumb circling the sensitive bud, the attention making you arch into his touch.
"Sylus," you whisper, his name tumbling from your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair again, holding him close to you.
He hums in response, the vibration adding to the sensation as his mouth continues savoring your body. His free hand skims down your side, tracing every curve, every dip, before settling at your waist. He releases your breast with a soft, wet sound, his lips immediately finding your belly. Then, his kisses trail lower, each press of his mouth against your skin making your impatience grow, but his hands steady your hips as his lips linger just above the waistband of your pajama pants.
His eyes flick up to meet yours. The way he looks at you—hungry, tender, and utterly devoted—makes your breath catch. The heat pooling between your thighs becomes unbearable, your panties damp with need as you writhe beneath him.
Finally, Sylus hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pajama pants and underwear, pulling them down in one smooth motion. His tongue darts out to wet his lips when he takes in the sight of you, bare and ready for him. Sylus starts slow, savoring every moment as his lips plant tender kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.
"You’re trembling," he murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wider. "So responsive... so beautiful."
The warmth of his breath fans over your dripping pussy, teasing, as he lets his lips linger just close enough for you to feel the ghost of a touch. Finally, his mouth moves to where you need him most. His tongue flattens against your folds, licking a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, making you gasp, your hips bucking instinctively toward his mouth. His tongue circles your clit, before his lips close around the swollen bundle of nerves, sucking gently at first, then harder as he finds the rhythm that makes your moans turn into cries.
One hand remains on your thigh, keeping you spread open for him, while the other slides up. His middle finger traces along your entrance, teasingly dipping in before retreating, then plunging back in, this time to the knuckle. He groans against your clit, as if the sensation of you gripping his finger drives him just as wild. He adds a second finger, his long digits stretching you, curling just right to press against your sweet spot. The dual sensation of his mouth and fingers has you writhing beneath him, drawing you closer to the edge. His tongue flicks rapidly over your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, the wet sounds mixing with your breathless cries.
Your thighs quiver, and he knows you’re close - his fingers curl deeper, pressing harder against that perfect spot as his lips suck your clit relentlessly. Your orgasm rips through you with a force that leaves you breathless. Your walls clamp around his fingers as your body arches off the rug, your cries filling the room as the pleasure pulses through every inch of you. Sylus doesn’t stop, prolonging your high as his tongue and fingers coax every last tremor of pleasure from your body until you’re trembling, gasping his name in broken, desperate whines.
Finally, he slows, withdrawing his fingers and pressing one last lingering kiss to your oversensitive clit, his lips curling into a smug smile as he looks up at you, his chin glistening with your release.
"My beautiful girl," he whispers, as he kisses the inside of your thigh one last time before sitting up. "All mine."
He takes off his pajama shirt, and in one fluid motion, he pulls off his pajama bottoms, leaving him completely bare. Your breath hitches at the sight of him, his cock thick, long, and hard. His eyes lock onto yours as he leans down, positioning himself between your legs. You gasp softly as the tip of his cock glides through your folds, his length sliding back and forth, coating himself in your mixed fluids. The sensation alone has you trembling, your legs instinctively parting wider for him.
Then, slowly, he presses against your entrance, the thick head of his cock stretching you as he begins to slide in, his eyes locked on you as your body takes in every inch. When he bottoms out, he pauses, his hips flush against yours, his cock buried deep. The sensation of being so completely filled sends waves of pleasure radiating through your body, leaving you gasping. His weight shifts as he lowers himself onto his elbows, bringing your bodies closer, his chest brushing against yours. He captures your lips in a slow kiss, making your head spin. His hips start to move, rolling against you in a languid rhythm drawing soft moans from you.
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing to feel more of him, your heels digging into his lower back. Your hands slide up to his shoulders, your fingers pressing into the taut muscles as he moves. His cock drags against your walls with each thrust, hitting spots that leave you gasping into his mouth. He swallows every sound, his kiss growing more feverent, his breath ragged as his body molds against yours. His hips grind against yours, his cock pressing deeper, harder, as you cling to him, your nails digging into his back.
Sylus’ pace begins to slow, his hips rolling more languidly as his lips break from yours.
“I need you closer.” he murmurs.
Without waiting for a response, he shifts his weight, one arm wrapping securely around your waist as he leans to the side, taking you with him. You gasp softly as your bodies roll together, your legs untangling briefly before one of his slips between yours.
Now on your sides, your bodies are pressed together so tightly you can feel his heartbeat. His arm stays snug around your waist, pulling you even closer, while his other hand cradles the back of your head. Your chest presses against his, and your hands rest against him, one lightly squished between your bodies. The other moves instinctively to his neck, your fingertips feeling his warmth, his pulse. Your leg hooks over his hip instinctively, granting him better access as his hips begin to move again.
The new angle makes you moan, his cock hitting even deeper, the angle forcing you to take all of him, and you clutch at his neck, your nails grazing his skin.
"My love." he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple as you press your face into his chest, overwhelmed by the closeness, the way he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in his world.
You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, your lips parting slightly. His eyes burn into yours, before his mouth captures yours in a deep, hungry kiss. The base of his cock presses perfectly against your clit with each thrust, the friction sending sparks of heat shooting through you. You’re helpless against the pleasure building inside, your breaths ragged and broken as his rhythm pushes you closer to the edge.
His hand on your back tightens, pulling you flush against him, the slick grind of his pelvis teasing that swollen, aching bud mercilessly. You arch into him, your nails digging into the hard muscle of his chest, and your gasps turn into needy, breathless cries.
“Just like that,” he rasps, his eyes stay locked on your face, devouring every flicker of pleasure that twists across your features. "Let me see you fall apart for me."
The way his cock fills you, stretching you with every roll of his hips, combined with the perfect pressure against your clit, is too much. Your body coils tighter, your thighs trembling where they’re hooked around his waist.
“Sylus…” you whimper, your voice trembling.
“Come for me,” he growls, one still cradling your head, the other pressing your back to him like he can’t stand even a breath of distance between you.
The tension inside you snaps, your body locks tight, your walls squeezing his cock with desperate intensity, milking him as a guttural moan escapes his throat. He thrusts into you harder, deeper, grinding his pelvis against your swollen clit, wringing every last pulse of pleasure from your throbbing pussy. Your cries fill the room, your entire body trembling in his arms. Sylus holds you through it all, his movements never faltering, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you as you ride out your high.
"That’s it." he murmurs tenderly, his gaze never leaving your face, memorizing the way you look in this moment—completely undone, completely his.
But he doesn’t stop - his hips keep rolling into you, his cock dragging against the oversensitive walls of your pussy, the friction is almost too much.
"You feel so perfect," he groans, his voice vibrating through his chest where you’re pressed tightly against him.
Your legs tremble, locked tight around his waist, keeping him buried deep. Sylus’ thrusts turn frantic, slamming into you harder, rougher, the sound of wet, filthy friction filling the room. His cock twitches inside you, driving deeper with every thrust.
“Fuck,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost broken, as your name falls from his lips. His hand cups your face, fingers trembling as they stroke your cheek, grounding himself in the haze of his need.
His movements stutter, his cock throbbing, and with a guttural growl, he pushes into you one last time, spilling hot and thick cum inside you. His hips twitch helplessly, every pulse of his release sending a shudder through his body. He clings to you, forehead pressed to yours, his breath ragged as he groans your name one last time.
His name escapes your lips in a soft, breathless moan, and he captures it in a searing kiss. The kiss slows as his movements still, the room filled with the sound of your mingled breathing and the faint crackle of the fire beside you. Sylus doesn’t pull away, his arms still wrapped around you, and you rest your head against his chest. His hands roam gently over your back and shoulders now, as if trying to soothe the tremble in your muscles. He kisses the top of your head before he pulls back just enough to look at you.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his fingertips grazing your cheek with a featherlight touch.
You nod with a soft smile.
He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that feels entirely different from before—his mouth moves tenderly, as though memorizing the curve of your lips, savoring the taste, the warmth you offer. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin, grounding you both. When he pulls back slightly, his forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the stillness. His gaze, when it meets yours, is soft, filled with adoration. You could stay like this forever.
#love and deepspace#lnds sylus#sylus x reader#love and deepspace sylus#sylus#lads sylus#sylus love and deepspace#sylus smut#sylus x you#sylus l&ds#lads smut#lads x reader#love and deepspace fanfic#sylus fanfic
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copycat | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem reader
they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but really it's just annoying
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
note: sorry to all of the chloes of the world, i just chose a random name!
f1tea
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liked by user1, user2 and 27,305 others
tagged: yourusername, chloereed
f1tea: SHE STRIKES AGAIN! y/n y/ln, oscar piastri's girlfriend, recently changed up her style with some bangs and surprise, surprise chloe reed shared her updated look just days later. then to really pour salt in the wound, reed posted yet again in mclaren merch. will she ever give up?
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user3: BRO YOU COULDN'T HAVE WAITED AT LEAST A WEEK?
user4: i think all subtlety was lost when she copied a literal TATTOO
user5: the way it's y/n's tattoo dedicated to oscar as well...
user6: at what point do we get a restraining order?
user7: the day that girl ends up in the paddock we should let y/n fight her with no consequences
user8: this has been going on for so long i feel like y/n has a lot to unleash on her
user9: at this point i think all of us y/n fans should be able to get their lick in
user10: i'm new to f1 can someone explain this lore to me? (srs)
user11: y/n and oscar have been together for nearly four years now, they got together when they were like 19. this chloe reed girl went on one date with oscar when they were 17 and now copies everything y/n does to try and get his attention? like down to haircut and tattoos ... it's kinda crazy and y/n has made some references to it but like we're nearing like the third year of this so i think she might snap soon
user12: it's even got to the point where chloe has like started talking with y/n's accent? she has a very obvious accent so like it's INSANE
user13: and to think all of this over a single date SIX YEARS AGO
user14: on a brighter note - y/n was MADE for bangs they look so fucking good
user15: obviously she should stop but if there's anyone you want to look like, it would be y/n
user16: at this point is it even over oscar anymore? or has chloe lost herself to journey to BECOME y/n
user17: the fact that she still camps out under all of oscar's posts and constantly posts in mclaren merch
user18: and don't even get me started with how she's always in the comments of oscar's sisters' comments
user19: someone needs to get nicole to put this girl on blast
user20: remember before elon took away public likes that mark went on a liking spree about chloe being a lil weirdo
yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 1,209,566 others
tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris & maxfewtrell
yourusername: summer breakin' with my boy (and his boy)
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user24: MAMA THERE'S A BITCH TRYNA BE JUST LIKE YOU 💜
user25: i unfortunately think she's very aware of it
oscarpiastri: i know you love me because you didn't get annoyed about THEM gatecrashing our couples getaway
landonorris: what if we are a couple HUH???
oscarpiastri: max literally has a girlfriend?
landonorris: ur so close-minded osc
yourusername: i love you osc even with these little stray cats you've picked up
landonorris: did we or did we not organise a super romantic dinner for you?
oscarpiastri: i organised a dinner and you two are so fussy that you left to find some chicken nuggets?
landonorris: therefore giving you a romantic evening on the water?
yourusername: you fell in the water trying to get back on board from the tender and i had to jump in and save you after a fish touched your foot and you began to have a panic attack
landonorris: god you do something nice for people and all you get is SHAMED
mclarenf1: you nearly drowned ???
user26: is chloe going to attempt to drown someone so she can claim she also saved an f1 driver
user27: @georgerussell63 alert the GDPA - NO WATER !!!
georgerussell63: understood 🫡
user28: has it not gotten to a crazy point now that we're warning drivers that this crazy girl might DROWN them ???
user29: at what point do we put oscar and y/n is witness protection
user30: the day she manages to get in the paddock me thinks
charles_leclerc: i see our invite got lost in the mail?
yourusername: please refer to whatever the fuck was going above your comment
charles_leclerc: that you're a victim of identity theft?
yourusername: we been known, but BEFORE THAT
charles_leclerc: oh. you should've let lando drown
landonorris: ???
oscarpiastri: i think that might have gotten me fired?
yourusername: no more papaya rules?
chloereed
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liked by user31, user32 and 11,045 others
chloereed: summer breakin'
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user33: oh brother this guy STINKS
user34: i am feeling sufficiently creeped out on the behalf of y/n and oscar
user35: i really don't understand her game here though? does she expect oscar to see this and actually mistake her for y/n and leave y/n for her?
user36: at this point i think she's lost in the sauce
user37: also oscar is hilariously down bad for y/n like he could probably recognise her via vibrational field he would not fall for this cheap imitation
logansargeant: this ain't it btw (it's never been it)
user38: not logan tapping in
logansargeant: who gon check me boo? i ain't got a job
chloereed: i don't know what you're trying to say, but i don't appreciate you spreading misinformation and hate
logansargeant: you have literally copied everything about my best friend down to her sentimental tattoos and you've essentially stalked my other bestfriend for nearly seven years ?
chloereed: it's not stalking if i know i'm what he really wants? she's the imitation of me
logansargeant: you like need help
user39: GO LOGAN
user40: bro has been let of the leash
user41: tbf when you think about it, logan has been friends with oscar for years and by default friends with y/n for just as long so like he's probably seen how this has effected them personally
user42: i don't really see how this is such a big deal, people try and imitate celebs all the time ?
user43: i think it's because she knows at least one of them personally and is very viciously pursuing oscar
user44: also there has to be an aspect we don't know because i don't think logan would be publicly taking her on in the comments if it weren't a lot worse
user45: also ... like it probably feels like shit as a person generally to have everything you do copied and not even get a tiny bit of credit
f1
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liked by danielricciardo, patooward and 1,784,039 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri
f1: we're ready for you monza
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user46: OMG IS THAT?
user47: i'm being so for real y/n needs to fight her
user48: OSCAR RUNNNNNNNNN
landonorris: do i need to inform the legal department?
yourusername: you might want to give them some sort of heads up
chloereed: why you afraid i'll steal back my man?
yourusername: no i'm afraid i'll get hit with a manslaughter charge
chloereed: that's a threat - my lawyers will be hearing
yourusername: tell them bitch, oscar would still choose conjugal visits with me over ever being with you
user49: came for the fast cars, staying for whatever this drama is omg
user50: i once went on a reddit deep dive about this drama where they compiled all the evidence and holy moly this confrontation has been a long time coming
user51: the best (or maybe worse) thing abotu all of this is that her claim of being with oscar first and dating him when they were 17 is based on one 'date' where is was just a joint ball between their schools where there was a compulsory dance in which they were partners
maxverstappen1: yo this shit is insane
user52: aren't you meant to be in the car in 20 minutes?
maxverstappen1: drama waits for no one @yourusername i got ur back
charles_leclerc: at this point i will mobilise the tifosi @yourusername
yourusername: i can handle her, i might just need some money to fix my nails
oscarpiastri: please do not fight her, she's not worth it
chloereed: she won't fight for your love but i will
oscarpiastri: can you just fuck off
user53: i fear she's pushed them over the edge now lol
user54: i'm glad they're both letting her have it in the PUBLIC INSTAGRAM COMMENTS <3
f1tea
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liked by user55, user56 and 34,982 others
f1tea: she's finally done it? chloe reed was spotted in the paddock at monza. will we finally see a confrontation between the two girls?
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user55: i FUCKING hope so
user56: if i were y/n you'd have to hold me back i'm being so serious
user57: i'd be in oscar's mclaren so fast and be driving down the pit lane to look for her
user58: i'd already be in an italian prison sorry not sorry
user59: y/n needs to give me lessons on being this graceful
user60: at this point we should just have an undercard for the race that's these girls tussling it out
user61: at this point i think logan, charles and max are ready to jump in
user62: charles and max being in the comments just before FP getting the scoop is so insane i love them
user63: imagine getting these f1 drivers this pressed over an aesthetic
user64: if you think this is just about an aesthetic you're just being dumb on purpose
user65: but like y/n is just a girl with bangs and a basic look, u could say like half of the female population are copying y/n
user66: but like please look at the actual evidence, it's way deeper than bangs babe
user67: also the TATTOO WHY ARE WE NOT TALKING ABOUT THE TATTOO
user68: whatever happens y/n will always be better than me
user69: she needs to bash her publicly if she won't beat her physically lol
oscarpiastri
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 3,984,022 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: please leave us alone, you'll never be her and i don't want you to be
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user71: STUNT ON THEM QUEEN
user72: a man who vocally defends you >>>
yourusername: love you bby
oscarpiastri: if anyone wants to take me away from you they'll have to defeat me in combat
yourusername: not saying i want that but you would be so sexy in full armour
oscarpiastri: for you... i would wear anything :3
user73: bro said his piece and immediately went back to simping like a pro
user74: if he doesn't offer to wear a suit of armour in the bedroom is he really in love with you?
user75: i guess we're not getting any dad!oscar content any time soon
landonorris: ???
user75: it's a joke about protected sex genius
landonorris: OH
chloereed: that's not what you said then oscar
oscarpiastri: THAT WAS SIX YEARS AGO IN A CONVERSATION I WAS OBLIGATED TO HAVE GET A GRIP WOMAN
oscarpiastri: YOU WILL NEVER FEEL SATISFACTION IN YOUR LIFE IF YOU CONTINUE TO COPY EVERYTHING SHE DOES AND REFUSE TO BE YOUR OWN PERSON
oscarpiastri: so PLEASE FOR YOUR OWN SAKE GET YOUR OWN LIFE AND LEAVE US ALONE
oscarpiastri: oh. i'm blocked
oscarpiastri: slay
user76: so ... oscar... when can we get this level of reading on the radio
yourusername: don't make him do community service :(
user77: but him being sassy is a service to the community
yourusername: you make a good point
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,045,677 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: you can be a copy cat all you like, but you'll never beat the original
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user78: i am sorry i exist at the same time as you
user79: i know this a whole love post but i have a confession, i am IN LOVE WITH YOU GET RID OF THE AUSSIE
oscarpiastri: 🤨
charles_leclerc: this was a whole saga, i'm happy it's all worked out for you guys but this was hella entertaining - when can we do it again?
yourusername: never again hopefully
charles_leclerc: boring!
yourusername: it literally got to the point that you offered to leave your car keys in a 'special spot'
charles_leclerc: well obviously i don't mean to THAT extent but i just want a bit of drama, let a girl live
user80: shit stirrer charles leclerc i love you
user81: we should've known he was in the trenches with this, the inchident knows no bounds
oscarpiastri: i love you and i'm sorry this happened. but you do slay so i could see why people would want to be you
yourusername: i knew me with bangs would be too powerful 😔
oscarpiastri: you're the most beautiful girl in the world no matter what
yourusername: ugh you have me blushing pretty boy
landonorris: cringe
yourusername: maybe if you copied oscar's flirting techniques you'd actually be wifed
landonorris: i thought we just established that copying is bad
yourusername: trust me, you need the help
user82: i'm glad we've returned to peace with the lando slander
user83: they're power is insane
maxverstappen1: can i say helping you come up with this caption is my community service
yourusername: fuck yes
maxverstappen1: stunting on hoes is very much in the public interest
fin.
note: i'm back in a rhythm !! this is not so subtle so i'll expand here: please please please do not steal my work, idc if you change the driver, if you're blatantly stealing my ideas and concepts - to the point that people are messaging me to make me aware, please don't! or at least credit me rather than pretending this a completely original thought. mamma mia didn't bother me as much because it's obviously the musical's idea, but omg undercover verstappen? big reputation? and guilty as sin - down to the series name? i haven't made any posts about this but know it's very much bothering me and if i see anymore i may have to put it on blast. thank you all for reading, soz for the rant but this has been going on for months.
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1#f1 social media au#oscar piastri instagram au#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri social media au
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40s Sergeant Barnes with a nurse and a Sergeant kink (and breeding and house wife kink, virginity loss). This was supposed to be a pure smutty drabble but then I got in my feelings and added some fluff and angst but I promise Bucky is still a dirty, nasty little fuck in this. Just with a sweeter ending. The one he deserves.
Listen just imagine what a cute, sexy menace Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes would be just waking up from an injury when his eyes flutter open to the pretty nurse he’s been eyeing from the day he started. You’re not a shy, dainty little thing, nope. Not at all.
You bark out orders like a drill Sergeant and one glare from you is all it takes to get everyone in line and on task without a second thought. Even his superiors are scared of you, biting their tongue when you stitch them up and send them on their way before running off to your next patient.
Bucky was in love.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he rasps, throwing you a charming smirk while you roll your eyes in response, shaking your head. "How'd I get so lucky, got a my little angel tendin' to me"
“I see your injury hasn’t stopped hurt that mouth of yours Sergeant" You quirk an eyebrow while he playfully huffs as you change the dressing covering a gash on his abdomen. You swab the area clean and he doesn't flinch even though you know it must burn like hell, his muscles tensed while he continues to watch you with heart eyes. "Now you know I'm not your little angel, I got 20 other men to fix up, you better be out of this bed as soon as you're all healed up"
“C’mon sugar, you're breakin' my heart" Bucky gives you a little pout with those perfect lips and you catch the twinkle in his eye as he looks over your form with complete admiration. He loved your sassy, take no shit attitude and it's taking everything in him to calm himself down so he doesn't get a hard on right there in front of you.
"You'd tell that to a cat with three legs if it was in a nurses outfit" You try your best to not give into his flirty comments and puppy eyes, knowing damn well he's a heart breaker but he makes it so difficult when he continues to woo you with his boyish charm.
He can't help but chase after you; catching the way your eyes always dart around with anxiety when his group returns from an operation, relief flooding them when you finally spot him. He loves your indifferent attitude, patting him down to make sure he's uninjured but your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips give away that you're worried.
How can he just let you go. Every time you check over him, he needs you closer.
So much closer.
-
"Ms. y/l/n, Sergeant Barnes is requesting you in his tent, he says it's urgent"
You shake your head looking over at the time, quietly making your way over to the tent he's stationed at, thankful that a number of troops were sleeping so you wouldn't be seen as you quickly slip inside.
“And what hurts now” you sass with your hands on your hips seeing the soldier in perfect health, doing your best to assess him without letting him know.
"Always checkin' over me" Bucky chuckles, seeing what you're doing; his words making your cheeks heat up, "Knew you cared about me sugar"
"Well what am I doin' here" You give him an unconvincing huff, struggling to keep your voice steady, refusing to meet his eyes, keeping your gaze on his silver dog tags instead. It doesn't help that he's handsome as hell with a light dusting of scruff covering his cheeks. Bucky's never seen you flustered before and it evokes something in him, all the blood in his body rushing south seeing your fingers twitch.
All he wanted to do was kiss you but now-
“Help your Sergeant out doll” He whispers, taking another step forward till his chest brushes against yours, his hand coming to tilt your chin up, "Will you?"
You gasp feeling his hardness press against your thigh, your heart fluttering wildly as his thumb traces your lips, any semblance of control you had slipping away feeling the warmth of his skin.
“Y-yes Sergeant Barnes”
His lips press against yours, soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the way his body was screaming for him to pick you up and toss you onto his cot.
"Sweet like sugar" He lets his hands fall to your waist, pulling you flush against his body while your arms drape on top of his shoulders. You stand on your toes chasing more of his lips and he chuckles at the needy whine you let out when he pulls away for air.
Now let's say your first night together was actually quite tame. He kisses you again and you swoon when he repeatedly checks in with you before going any further. His hand slips under your skirt, letting his fingers toy with places no on else has touched. With each night, he needs you more and more until he can't hold off any longer and neither can you.
-
You sneak into his tent and this time he doesn't hesitate to undress you completely, not when he needs you bare with nothing separating you both. You feel your heart race as he lies on top of you, draping a thin sheet over himself when you shiver at the chill night air. You feel his body heat instantly warm you up, his heavy cock resting between your soaked folds.
"Are you sure, sugar?" He asks, his hand cupping your cheek and stroking your skin.
"Please Sergeant" You whisper and the way you say his title makes his cock twitch. There's something so different about you when you're in his bed, a sweet little bunny giving herself to him completely. It drives him feral with a need to make you feel good, make you cry for his cock and his cock only, to keep you nice and full of him.
You don't look twice at anyone else and here you are completely naked in his tent with your tight little virgin cunt, your legs spread open so he can put his dick in you; there was no way he was ever going to let you go.
"You tell me if it's too much, alright?" His lips tickle your neck as kisses your skin while rubbing his heavy cock through your folds, coating it in your slick, "Breathe for me"
He slips his tags into your mouth as he starts to press in, the initial sting making you bite down hard onto the metal feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. You whine at the way he stretches you open, your thighs squeezing around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders.
"Shhh, that's it love, doin' so good for me so good for your Sergeant, look how you're takin' all of me baby" He looks down to where you're both connected as he continues to slowly push himself in till hes fully sheathed inside you. He gives you time to adjust, slipping his tags out of your lips and letting his tongue lace with yours instead, his balls already throbbing with how tightly you were squeezing his cock.
"Please-Sergeant" your heels press into his ass desperate for him to move, gasping when he starts to slowly roll his hips, barely pulling out.
"I got you love-don't worry" Bucky moves as slowly as he could not wanting to hurt you, taking just as much care of you as you had with him countless of times.
But he can only keep up at that pace for so long. Your muffled whines and moans don't help the way his mind is already spiraling. His pretty little nurse all spread out just for him, taking his raw, bare cock in her soaking pussy, squeezing him so tight, he was only a few strokes from cumming.
If it were up to him he would've proposed on the spot, thinking about making love to you on your wedding night, seeing you all shy and sweet wrapped up in soft white lace. If you were his wife, he'd take you apart every which way, not giving a fuck about traditions, taking you right on the dining room table.
You'd be the prettiest little thing for him to come home to, such a good wife all dirty just for her husband. Only he'd know the way your mouth would slobber all over his cock like your life depended on it. The way you'd moan at the taste of his cum. Bucky's eyes rolled back at the thought of you with nothing but some heels and a string of pearls he'd put around your neck while he stuffed you with cum and emptied his balls in you.
"S-Sergeant-I-oh god" You whimpered feeling his cock grow harder, your pussy pulling him right back in, feeling the coil low in your belly pull tighter and tighter as he hit that spot.
Meanwhile Bucky's jaw clenched as he felt his balls pull tight to his body, the tip leaking steadily in your pussy. His mind spiraled into places he didn't think would exist before he met you, rogue thoughts he only entertained when he had his dick in his hand. The harder he fucked you the more he thought about how gorgeous you'd look with a swollen belly.
Fuck, imagine if he got you pregnant right then and there. That nurses uniform would no longer fit you. Everyone would know he knocked you up, your perfectly round tummy carrying Sergeant James Barnes' baby, breasts heavy with milk, God, he wasn't going to last-
“Gonna let your Sergeant pump you full of cum?” He pants, letting his hands grip onto your hips like his life depends on it, the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit.
“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-youI-I'm gonna-"
"M'yours sweet girl, m'all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.
"Want your cum Sergeant" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.
"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, m-gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Bucky right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair; his usual kempt brown locks now disheveled .
“Y’know m’gonna marry you” his scruffy cheek nuzzles into your neck as he continues to stay deep inside you as his cock softens, “after all this is over. Gonna put a ring on that finger”
His words send a different wave of emotions over you, feeling more safe than ever, clinging onto him as tightly as possible. You let a whimper slip out and he pulls away from your neck with an expression of concern.
“What is it love” Bucky coos, wiping away the tears that slip you, stroking your cheek while you bite back a sniffle.
“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” You weren't sure what Bucky would want-there was still a war going on. Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-
"Of course sugar" Bucky presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"
-
And of course he gets his happy ending. Because when it's all over, he gets the ring for the girl he loves. He's on one knee, proposing to you with the sweetest words. He treats you like a princess on your wedding night, making love all night long until the sun is up.
There isn't a surface in the house he's left untouched. Nothing makes him more feral than moaning for his pretty wife, constantly taking her hand and wrapping it around his cock, watching that diamond glint with each stroke.
It doesn't take long for you to feel a little squeamish, knowing all the tell tale signs.
The day you tell him he's going to be a dad is one of the happiest days of his life. There isn't a single night that goes by where he isn't nuzzling his face into your tummy, talking to your little one.
Everything was perfecttt.
#40s bucky barnes#40s bucky#40's bucky#40s bucky barnes x reader#bucky banes fluff#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x nurse reader#bucky barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky fan fic#bucky fan fiction#bucky fanart#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x smut
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no control | l.jn
“i can't contain this anymore, i'm all yours i've got no control”
💿now playing: no control by one direction
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❯ summary: The guy sitting at the bar next to you seems pretty smitten - and Jeno hates it. He wants to be the one making you blush…or more accurately, scream his name.
❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader
❯ genre: smut, friends with benefits
❯ words: 3.7k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), jealousy, arguing, wall sex, swearing, back scratching/marking?, possessiveness, public sex, reader uses she/her pronouns, pet names, slight begging, a bit angsty, porn with feelings, literally just jeno being petty and jealous.
Jeno hates to admit it, but Mark was right. Casual, no-strings-attached sex does in fact suck. And God does he know it. It’s hard to forget when his friends keep bringing you up.
“Who’s she talking to?” Renjun asks.
Jisung replies with a simple shrug before Chenle chimes in with a quick, “I don’t know, haven’t seen him before.”
Him. Jeno feels that pronoun hit harder than expected, but he forces himself to keep cool. He doesn’t turn around to see who’s got your attention, even though every fiber of his being screams and begs for him to look.
His spying friends keep giggling amongst themselves as they sit on the stools at the bar. But it wasn’t until Renjun throws back the last of his whiskey and says: “He looks pretty into her.” That Jeno’s gaze is forced to find you.
Jeno’s too proud to admit it but he finds you instantly, you’re like a magnet, a force that he’s drawn to. And truthfully, he considers it a talent that he can seek you out of a crowd in seconds.
There you are, with some guy. Some guy he didn’t know. Some guy that, from what he could see from the side of his head, was probably good-looking. The good-looking ones always liked to try and talk to you.
Not that it matters, Jeno reminds himself, dragging his eyes away from you for his own sake. You hadn’t come to this party with him; he never even asked you. He agreed to keep this casual. You could spend your time with whoever you damn well pleased.
Even if that wasn’t him. And even if that’s a bitter pill for him to swallow.
“Leave him alone guys,” Jisung finally speaks up. “They’re probably just talking. Besides aren’t you staying over at Y/N’s tonight anyway Jen?” He asked.
Jeno takes his eyes off you for a second to look at his friends, he’s thankful for the reminder that he was supposed to be coming over to your place tonight. But now his mind is racing. Maybe you would change your mind, ditching him to hang out with that good-looking man instead.
You’re not like that, he tells himself. While you hadn’t attended the party with him, you had promised to spend the night with him, and you weren’t one to break promises. Besides, you didn’t bring strangers you just met home, either. He had nothing to worry about.
Except…what if he did?
When he dared to glance over to the last spot he had seen you across the lavish bar, he wasn’t expecting to still find you there. Surely, you would’ve found an opening to excuse yourself and re-join the friends you’d arrived with, but there you were. Still talking to that asshole. Smiling at him. Enjoying yourself.
Maybe it was just the whiskey talking, but Jeno felt like he was being replaced as if he was across the world and not merely across the room. Because it had been well over half an hour since he had first seen them together. And who knew how long you two had been talking before he or his friends even noticed?
Jeno doesn’t like this feeling. So he orders another drink.
He tries to ignore you – tries to focus on his friends but they keep mentioning it. Mentioning you. Which makes it so damn difficult to stop his eyes from sliding over, and noticing every little detail about you.
The short dress that had ridden up from where you’d sat down and crossed your legs, showing off more than enough of your toned thighs. The deep black of it suited you, and not just because it was Jeno’s favourite colour, but because it complemented the tumble of hair falling over your shoulder. You looked like a goddess, untouchable. Especially when you smile. God, he loves when you smile.
Just not when he’s not the one doing it. He should be the only one to make you laugh, to make you feel more relaxed at a party. Because he knows you, all the little things and your quirks.
But not once did you glance his way; and he’s fully aware of that because Jeno has definitely been staring. You’re ignoring him, and he hates it. So fucking much.
Maybe the alchohol was catching up to him, finally settling into his bloodstream and mixing dangerously with his jealous streak because he’s suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that he has to do something.
Impulsively, Jeno abandons the conversation he had already half checked out of with his friends, and doesn’t waste a second marching over to you and the man. Ideally, Jeno wanted you to be thrilled to have him sweep you away, but when he arrived at the booth you and him had been sitting at, Jeno sees your eyes flash with an undeniable ‘what the fuck are you doing over here?’
“Nice to see you, Y/N,” Jeno greets you charmingly, sliding right into the booth on your side without an invitation, blatantly interrupting.
“Hi, Jeno,” you reply, keeping your tone polite despite not moving to give him more room.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” It hasn’t. “I thought I’d get you a drink and we could catch up?”
Jeno’s attempt to get you away is feeble, but it’s not exactly like he had enough time to devise a good plan. He was being impulsive, jealous, reckless – acting on instinct and he instinct was telling him that he need you, by his side.
“Maybe later, yeah Jen?”.
“Why? You having too much fun already?” he asks, which was rather a loaded question, considering you had company sitting right across from you.
“I’m having a lot of fun,” you emphasise a little more than necessary, glancing at the brunette across the table and playfully rolling your eyes. It had the man smiling in understanding, which was quick to piss Jeno off.
“Really?” he said flatly. “You don’t look it.”
“Maybe you don’t know what I look like when I’m having fun.”
“I think I know better than most.”
That’s when Jeno squeezes your knee, and you want to disagree, but you couldn’t. Because Jeno knew, alright. He knew pretty damn well.
The guy opposite you shifts in his seat, probably aware that he had suddenly become a third wheel, thanks to the flirty tone in Jeno’s voice. Jeno gets a sick sense of enjoyment watching the man get uncomfortable – all the confirmation that whatever little plan he had going on was working. It made him only want to do it more.
So Jeno oh so casually reaches to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear. You try not to react, but your head tilts slightly towards him, and your features soften.
“You look beautiful,” Jeno compliments, fingers trailing down your hair, brushing over your shoulder before they settled back on your knee. “Black suits you.”
“Thanks,” you murmur.
“Are you two friends?” The man asks, reminding you both of his presence.
“Sort of,” you began to say, just as Jeno declares, “Very close friends.”
With your cheeks now flushing, you cut him a look that he largely ignores, before feeling the need to explain yourself to the friendly guy you had just met. “We catch up sometimes. Occasionally.”
“We’ve known each other for ages.” Jeno emphasises because he liked that fact. Liked knowing he was here first, having that leverage and advantage over any guy you’d ever meet.
“I should leave you to it then, let you two catch up,” the man says through a tight lipped smile as he began to slide out of the booth. He knew exactly what Jeno was trying to do. “Nice meeting you, Y/N. See you around sometime.”
“I hope so!” You reply trying to sound enthusiastic. You didn’t want to give Jeno the satisfaction he was clearly hoping for.
Once the man turned his back on you, you grab your glass and take an extra generous gulp of your drink.
Before Jeno had the chance to open his mouth and say something else that was only going to irritate you, you lean into him.
“What the fuck was that?” you hiss. “Out. Get out. Let me out.”
Shuffling along as he was told, Jeno watches dumbly as you hastily slip out of the booth after the stranger, tugging the hem of your dress down with one hand and clutching your nearly empty glass in the other.
Jeno blinks for a second as you try to parade away from him. Then it registers in his mind and he’s chasing behind you and out of the bar. That’s when he tugs on your arm to stop you in your tracks.
“Y/N. Stop, please.”
Much to Jeno’s surprise, you do as he says, turning around and holding up a commanding finger. It almost seemed like a joke, but there was no humour in your tone when you asked, “What were you thinking?”
Jeno tilted his head to the side, tonguing the side of his cheek.
“We weren’t at that party together! You knew that,” you continue your rant.
“I didn’t know it was a crime to speak to you in public,” Jeno replies naïvely with an innocent shrug of his shoulders.
“You know that’s not what we do. We don’t hang out at social events, Jeno. We agreed on casual. I don’t want a relationship.”
Casual. Yeah, you seemed to really not want a relationship when you were chatting up that guy for ages. The thought makes Jeno scoff, his gaze dropping to his feet.
You cross your arms over your chest, exhaling, “What?”
“That guy,” he simply says, his eyes flashing with a slight fury when he looks back up at you. “You were with that guy.”
You roll your eyes. “Oh my god, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Who was he?”
“It doesn’t matter!”
“It does matter when you refuse to even speak to me in public, but spend your whole night with him.”
Jeno’s smile is long gone, and almost, almost, you wanted to forget this whole thing and bring it back. You hated when Jeno was mad at you, not that he was very often, but he was being irrational right now.
“I just met him, it was all friendly” you explain. “I can’t believe you’re jealous!”
“I’m not jealous!”
Jeno knew he was, but there was not a chance of him admitting that seeing you with any other man drove him absolutely insane. Every single damn time. Still, you know better.
“You obviously are! Jeno, you know how I feel about you–”
“Do I? You didn’t seem to be into me tonight.”
“Because you came out of nowhere and acted like I was all yours!”
“You are mine!”
That was the wrong thing to say. Jeno knew it as soon as it came out his mouth, saw it in the way your expression tightened slightly. Even so, he wouldn’t take back what he thought was true.
“We haven’t defined anything–” you fumble, “Infact, I think we did the opposite—”
“How would you like it if I’d been flirting with another girl all night?” He cuts in.
“It wouldn’t matter,” you lie. “You can do what you want.
Jeno takes a few steps towards you, and it makes you unconsciously hold your breath. He’s so tall and intimidating and goddam sexy—wait you’re mad at him right now!
“What I really want, Y/N, is to be with you,” he spells it out frustratingly slowly. “Seeing you all night long in that short dress that barely covers your ass and knowing I can’t touch you, claim you, fucking kills me.”
Your eyes betray you, because despite every brain wave in your mind telling you to yell at him for that slightly misogynistic statement—your eyes still soften.
“Well, you should’ve just said that,” you try to explain instead of lecturing him. “If you’ve been feeling like that you should’ve talked to me instead of acting like a caveman.”
“You don’t listen.”
“I’m listening now.”
Jeno blinks at you, his jaw loosening as his eyes watch your gaze drift down to his lips. The action is loud enough for him to not waste another second before his hands move to your waist, pulling you in to the kiss he had been dying to give you all night.
It’s harder than he would’ve given you earlier, more possessive – oh, definitely possessive when he forces your back against the brick wall at the side of the bar and your arms have no choice but to hastily wrap around his neck. You stumble a little, but he keeps a firm grip on you.
If you wanted him to tell you how he felt, well, that’s exactly what you’re going to get.
He tells you in the desperate way that he kisses you, lips parting and unwilling to leave yours. He tells you by the way he presses his body flush against yours, pinning you to the brick so you can’t slip away from him, not again. He tells you in the low moan that escapes him when your hand tangles up in his hair and your own lips work just as eager.
When he breaks away for a moment, he takes his time to just look at you. So pretty, so desperate, and so undoubtedly all his.
And when you gaze back at him through long lashes and eyes radiating with lust, he has to groan because he’s the one making you like that. He’s the one getting you to bite down on those pretty lips, lips that were made for him, belong to him.
But you’re feeling too desperate and he’s taking too long. So within a mere few seconds, you’re reaching for him again. It has him thinking maybe you’re trying to tell him the same thing. But there was no need to do that. Jeno had made it abundantly clear that he was yours.
There was still a lingering frustration fuelling the two of you – mostly from you; it was jealousy for Jeno. He is jealous that someone else – another man – had gotten to spend the night at the party with you. He needed you to know that he hated to see you with him, and that this – this was never going to be better with anyone else.
No matter how hard a man would try, they could never know you the way that he did. They could never make you feel the way he did.
Ridiculously, you want to apologise despite him reading the situation all wrong. You hadn’t been flirting with anyone else, and you thought it didn’t matter who you chose to simply talk to. You never knew he’d feel this threatened. Never suspected it would upset him this much.
You proposed the idea of keeping things casual to not get hurt. Jeno was unbelievably attractive and could have his pick of any woman. You thought keeping him at arm's length would protect you—figures it’s only hurting him.
Regardless, no matter the context there was no denying that he was being a jealous ass tonight and the two of you had argued. An argument that you were both getting very turned on by and had you conflicted between getting down on your knees for him or letting him fuck you against the wall, outside and all.
You always found great thrill in surprising him: breaking from the feverish kisses, you reach up under your dress and yank down your underwear. The delicate fabric falls around your ankles, and you kick them off to the side, inviting him to what he so clearly wanted.
I’m yours right here, right now, your eyes tell him.
And you really thought you had won at the whole surprising thing, until he hooks your legs around his waist and presses his hips harder against you. You never pegged yourself or Jeno for being an exhibitionist but something about him taking you against the wall of the very same bar he thought a man was flirting with you at, awakens something feral inside him.
All of a sudden the wall seemed like the perfect spot for make up sex. Honestly, Jeno just wanted any sex. As long as it was with you.
He exhales heavily when he starts to ease his pants down and you fumble to undo his shirt buttons. But you get far too distracted by his lips beginning to trail down your throat. He reaches for your thigh, smoothing up your soft skin, as he hitches up your dress around your hips.
You’re so desperate for him you can’t help but whimper. And just when you think ‘Yes, finally,’ a cocky grin spreads across his face as his finger slips effortlessly (and too goddamn slowly) over your centre. His teasing is somewhat annoying, but it’s so hard to be pissed at him when he’s touching you like that. Hell, it’s hard to be mad at him in general—you’re weak to him and that’s exactly why you’re pushed up against a wall.
Jeno picks up his pace as soon as he begins stroking you with another finger. You squirm against the wall and he watches that hungry expression grow as he rubs you rhythmically, fingers sliding up and down, up and down, so easily from how wet you are. Pride swells in his chest because he did that.
Every moan that leaves your lips is his own little reward, one that he is dying to receive more, and more, and more of. Forever.
Jeno knows you’re close. It would’ve been easy to get you off right there, and he would’ve, had he not abruptly pulled away from you. You curse under your breath at the loss of contact.
“Jeno!”
He smirks, loving the way you squirm as he nudges your legs further apart. His breath is hot against your skin as he murmurs, “Got to tell me what you want, baby.”
You groan frustratingly, since apparently he wasn’t going to give it to you unless you said something. “I want you, now. Just need you inside me.”
He smirks, the grip he had on your thighs tightening and the muscles in his arms flexing beneath his shirt. He shifts his hips, pushing the crown of his cock against your entrance — slowly, sensually, tormentingly.
You lean into him, nails digging into the fabric on his back as he presses his forehead against your neck, soft hisses escaping him as he feels you — wet and tight.
“This pussy was fucking made for me,” he growls, cock buried to the hilt. He could stay there forever, selfishly he wants to, but he can hear your whimpers and the need to please you becomes priority.
He bottoms out and then his hips are snapping forward hard, fast, possessive. Whatever words you wanted to say dissolves into a senseless moan. His thrusts become more erratic and needy and the pace has you clenching down around him. Fuck.
Jeno stills. His breath ghosts over your collarbones and his fingers dig even further into your hips. You know that look, he’s struggling to keep himself under control, which, given the circumstances is the last fucking thing you want.
“Not gonna last long if you keep doing that baby.”
He’s trying to reason with you, but before you really have time to think about what you’re doing you’re clawing at his back, tightening your legs around and digging the heels of your shoes into his back hard enough that he growls, low and frightening in a way that makes your spine tingle.
“Fuck,” he grits out thrusting into you hard. The sound of skin hitting skin is loud and vulgar in the middle of the street, but you don’t care and can’t care because fuck, all you can think about is how it feels as he rocks into you, again and again and again.
“Jeno,” you gasp out, grip digging into his shoulders as he fucks you, ruthless and unforgiving.
He’s relishing in it, you can tell by the way he’s looking at you that he’s trying to fucking burn the sight into his brain forever, the sounds you’re making and the way you shiver in his arms and the sheer force of it all. He groans and when he kisses you again it’s nearly violent, a clash of lips and tongues and teeth.
“All mine,” he groans against your mouth. He hisses as you bite at his bottom lip, retaliating with a growl and driving his hips into yours with a newfound ruthlessness. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“Oh—fuck please,” you gasp out, breaths coming out in little huffs in time with the movement of his body.
“Not what I asked,” he lowers his voice, serious. His pace slows down and it has you squirming and crying out.
“Fuck yes—yours Jeno. Always been yours. Just please don’t stop—”
Jeno groans and kisses your neck. He picks up his pace again. The same low tone in his voice as he promises, “I’m all yours too.”
You swear those three simple words were the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. Your walls flutter around him and you don’t miss the prideful grin on his face as his hand moves down from your hip and his thumb presses against your clit.
His fingers move hurriedly and the pleasure is suddenly blinding and white and fuck fuck—
“Jeno yes just like that I’m gonna—”
“Good fucking girl,” he chokes out, your orgasm shaking him to his core, making his thrusts half-desperate.
His rhythm falters and his own breath catches. He digs his fingers into your hip hard enough that it makes you hiss and then he falters and slows and gives one, two, three more thrusts before pinning you harder with a shaky, breathless sigh.
The two of you stay like that for a beat before he lowers you back to the ground, pulling down your dress. Then slowly, he brings his fingers to his lips and licks, tasting you with a roll of his eyes.
“I mean it, you know,” He quietly says. “I’m all yours.”
Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into a revering kiss, and you tell him the exact same thing back.
#nct smut#nct dream smut#jeno smut#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#jeno x reader#kpop smut#nct hard hours#nct one shot#nct scenarios
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How Embarrassing... - Ghost
Summary - Ghost's pride is at risk for a little satisfaction.
Tags/Mentions - Banner by @/saradika-graphics, MDNI 18+, smut, gn!reader, sub/dom dynamics, maybe a little forceful? But not really, surprise, embarrassment @glossysoap @divine--serenity @lordlydragon @violet-phantoms @quietlyignoringyou
(I've apparently violated community guidelines with this, so I changed the gif in hopes that that's what was the issue)
Ghost never wanted to face you during sex. Never wanted you to see his face or eyes because it was too telling. It would be a blow to his pride for you to see the dazed and desperate look in his eyes when he only wanted you to know the large and in charge side of him in bed. Doggy style was standard. When you were on top he always made you reverse it, any position like missionary or lotus and he would hold your body so close that you couldn't see his face. When fucking you from behind he would throw his head back with furrowed brows and tightly shut eyes. Biting his lip and opening his eyes, he would loll his head to the side to look down at you and whimper so softly you couldn't hear it over your own noises. If he let's you on top, it has to be reverse cowgirl. He'll have one hand gripping your hip and the other arm slung over his face while tears sting his eyes from how good it feels when you ride him.
Ghost would have to hold his breathe when initially sliding his cock into you so as not to whimper at the feeling. He would choke down most moans and try so hard to be quiet. On the rare occasion he does let a loud enough sound slip out, he would lightly chuckle " -fuuck", as a way to cover it up. If you ever tried to look back at him fucking you, he would gently grab the back if your neck and press his thumb or finger against your jaw to keep your face forward. If you tried to pull away to look at him, he would tighten the arm wrapped around your waist while the other hand would fly up, tangling into the hair on the nape of your neck and gently but firmly holding your head where it is.
It would be so embarrassing for you to see him so needy, but he knows you're becoming recklessly desperate to see his face when he fucks you. You try to be sly and initiate things randomly or hold your place instead of letting him force you to hide your face in his shoulder or neck, but it's like you know when he's about to move. You shift or adjust to counteract his grip or his reach. One day of indulging you just a little bit and it almost changes the whole dynamic in Ghosts mind. He finally agreed to kiss you during sex as long as your eyes stay closed, but he didn't know you had a whole plan.
He has you sat on his lap with your legs circling his waist, one hand on the back of his neck and the other cupping his jaw while you kiss him. He has no idea you can tell when he's about to cum, but he's panting in your mouth as you ride him and you can feel the muscles of his stomach tightening the closer he gets. His intention is to do what he always does; bury your face into his neck as he cums, but you're not feeling so compliant today. You unsuspectingly slide your hands to his shoulders and without warning push him down onto his back. He let's out a surprised grunt as his back hits the mattress and you tuck your knees against his sides, pressing your palms against the front of his shoulders to hold him down. You know he could flip you over, but you're hoping he's too stunned by your sudden defiance to react in time. "Love, what-", you quickly start bouncing on his cock again feeling his heart pounding through his whole body and for the first time ever, he let's out a barely contained moan. "Hnnnmm, Y/N-", his hands wrap around your forearms, but you suddenly lean forward and give him a sloppy open mouthed kiss. He moans again and his cock twitches inside you, "Y/N, please-" he whines desperately between your feverish kisses. "I'm-", you kiss him again and he whimpers. You pull back and see the prettiest expression on his face as you feel his cock start twitching. His eyebrows are drawn tight above hazy, fluttering doe eyes that are staring right into yours. His swollen, wet lips are slightly open as he pants and whines. You sit up and readjust your hands to rest on his chest for more support and his hips buck up involuntarily as he let's out a long, deep moan. "Please keep going.", he begs. "Please, please, please, please don't stop." He let's out a loud moan as he cums inside you, cock pulsing as you ride him through his orgasm. He looks so good like this; flushed skin sweating as he bucks involuntarily. Eyes glassy as you overstimulate him just a little, just to see more of that desperate expression. His hot cum feels so good that you almost want to force another load out of him, but you slide off of his cock and lean forward again to give him one last sloppy kiss. You run your fingers through the hair on the sides of his head and silently comfort him through his burning embarrassment. You kiss the corner of his mouth, across his cheek, under his ear and down his neck before gently kissing his lips.
He could see the new glint in your eyes, just under the look of adoration painted on your face, that told him he was going to have to fight off these little tricks a lot more now.
#141 x reader#call of duty#call of duty mwii#cod 141#cod mw2#cod x reader#ghost mw2#simon ghost riley#simon riley#cod smut#ghost smut#simon riley smut#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x y/n#tf 141 x reader#141 x you#141 smut#mdni#18+ mdni
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At least once more, as always
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Summary: Wanda finds a new spell in the Darkhold and wants to try it out.
Tags: Somnophilia, dub con (is reader there voluntarily? I don't know), magic (cock), stretching, overstimulation, breeding kink, pet names for reader (sweetheart, baby, angel), mommy kink, slight dacryphilia, no pronouns used for reader
Words: 3k
Find it on AO3 or others like it
I was thinking about how Wanda would wake you with morning sex and then my brain just did its thing at 2am. This took way longer to edit than I thought, but I'm happy with this for now so posting before it stays in my draft for another month..
The bed was warm when Wanda finally joined you, but sleep was the last thing on her mind.
She pulled the sheet off the bed and was rewarded with the sight of your naked body. Even asleep, Wanda knew you were always ready and waiting for her, whether you were aware of it or not.
She began with lightly brushing her fingers over your naked body, making sure you were still fast asleep. Then she pressed a bit harder, especially around your thighs and hips. Her hand snaked around your throat and massaged your pulse points. She teased your nipples and pulled on them.
Your breathing changed, but you were still sleeping. She checked, loving that her treatment was reflected in your dream.
After a while, she let her fingers drift down to your folds and pushed through them, feeling the wetness seep out of you. You were wet enough for her to put her plans into action.
And now for the second part of her plan. Wanda spoke another short incantation and started to slowly thrust into you. She wondered at what point you would wake and shiver of excitement ran down her back, making her thrusts a little deeper. Would the continued stretch of your hole would wake you up before her cock became thicker than her fist?
Before she pulled you close, she spoke the incantation and rubbed her clit. With the last word, a cock appeared between her legs. Her hand easily fit around it, as planned.
She turned you on your back. Your face was beautifully calm, a small smile on her lips if Wanda saw it correctly. Her fingers slid down to your thighs, grabbing hold at your knees and pulled them apart to slide closer towards you. She settled your legs over her hips, her cock right at your seeping entrance. She pushed in easily, groaning as she could feel her cock inside your warm and soft pussy.
Every passing second made her cock expand, slow enough to not be recognizable at the moment, but soon you'd notice the stretch. The slow process also gave her the chance to fuck you for a while before you'd wake up.
Wanda started with easy slow thrusts. You were so wet that she felt no resistance at all., though she could feel it starting to build. She fingered your clit to keep the abundance of wetness coming, not wanting to hurt you. Yet. She kept thrusting, checking in on your dream to find her dream-self lazily fucking into dream-you, your blissed-out face mirroring reality.
Wanda kept fucking into you. Once her cock had grown enough, the resistance was noticeable, your walls gripping onto her. Gods, she loved the way you felt around her, the pressure gradually increasing, turning her on more every second.
She had to put more strength into her thrusts, holding onto your hips to push into you. Your dream-self had started to moan her name, slowly bleeding into reality, as she could hear you trying to form words. On a particular powerful thrust, going as deep as she could, your eyes suddenly popped open with you screaming out her name.
Wanda kept thrusting into you with all her power, relishing in the squeeze of her cock while pushing your hips into the mattress. Your hands came up to claw at her. To make her stop or will her to keep going, you weren’t sure.
Waking up to Wanda pushing into you with her thick cock had left you reeling, barely comprehending what was happening. But Wanda gave you no time to catch up. The squelching sound of Wanda forcing herself into your pussy filled the air.
"I've been fucking you for a while, but I’m glad you've finally decided to join the show."
"Yes, take me, pet."
She leaned down to pull your wrists above your head, brushing her nose up your throat to whisper in your ear.
"Gotta get you so wet for me, baby, more than ever before. I'm trying this little spell. Can you figure it out?"
Shivers ran through your whole body. Your hips tried to press up into the witch above you, desperately looking for more friction but Wanda slowed her thrusts, though only because she struggled to push into you all the way.
Her hand flew back to your clit, feeling your pussy give way to her. You squeezed your eyes shut, there were too many sensations. You needed to cum, because you needed this to be over. It was torture, lighting your body on fire, raw pleasure coursing through your veins.
And she kept thrusting into you, your brain nearly exploding while trying to make sense of her words and not pass out from the heavenly pressure between your legs.
You felt your orgasm creeping up on you. It hadn't been the first time Wanda had stretched you out, and it always felt great. But her waking you up already inside you felt intense. You wanted to cum so badly. Cum for her. Stretched around her cock.
"Please, more. I need-"
"Oh, don't worry, sweetheart, more is what this is all about. I'm gonna stretch you out until all you can do is cum on my cock."
You were glad Wanda had let you come so easily, not even making you ask for permission. Your hands let go of the headboard and found her hips, trying to push her off of you. The orgasm hat felt amazing but you needed a break.
The thought, paired with Wanda's hard thrusts, sent you over the edge easily, squeezing her cock like a vice. She moaned, her hips temporarily thrusting out of rhythm.
She slowed down until you stopped clenching around her, not wanting to cum until she had you at your breaking point. It helped you catch your breath. Though you could still feel the stretch, you felt relaxed, the pleasure-high fogging up your thoughts.
Wanda took hold of your wrists again and kept pushing into you.
“What makes you think I’m done with you, baby?” Her overly sweet voice made you realize you might be in trouble.
Wanda quickened her thrusts again, pleasure filled your body without your permission though you knew better than to fight it or her. You would enjoy her treatment so much more when you gave into her fully. If Wanda’s thrusts kept coming, so would you. Might as well enjoy it.
Something felt different though. Like she had gotten bigger, stretching you more and-
Oh.
Now her words made sense.
A loud whine escaped your lips.
"Yes, more, please, more, Wanda. Please, please, make me stretch for you."
Wanda knew you had finally understood.
By now, she was almost as thick as her fist. Her thoughts drifted back to a week ago, when you had asked her to fist you. Wanda pushed the image and feeling of you squeezing her hand, only her wrist visible between your legs, covered in cum and lube to the elbow, into your thoughts.
The mental image and the pressure of her thick cock pushed you over the edge again. Your whole body went rigid, muscle tension pulling your body away from the mattress, pushing into the pleasure and overstimulation.
Wanda kept up her rhythm this time, pounding into you, holding onto your hips, pushing herself as deep as possible. You didn't know when your second orgasm turned into the third, but you wouldn’t care if you lost all feeling in your physical body as long as the fireworks of pure ecstasy kept exploding.
"One more, baby, give me one more." The words pushed through the haze in your mind. And you felt yourself nod. One more orgasm and you could rest.
Wanda blew hot air on your clit, not wanting to overstimulate you, but you writhed underneath her anyway.
Wanda had paused her thrusts, waiting for you to return to reality, but her cock had gotten thicker again.
Your orgasm had spread your wetness over your thighs, her thighs and the bedspread, but neither of you cared.
"More, Wan, please." Your words were slurred, but Wanda understood them anyway.
"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. You are doing so well. Just give me one more. Can you do that for me, baby?"
You nodded again, moving your hips against hers, pushing yourself onto her thick cock.
Wanda was in awe. She had trained you so well.
"That's it, baby, keep going, fuck yourself on my cock. You can't get enough of it, can you? You're so wet and open for me, made to be stretched by my thick cock."
You whined, not able to push yourself all the way onto Wanda's cock anymore, resulting in quick, shallow frustrating thrusts. You were stretched beyond anything you had ever experienced. You wanted more, needed more. Needed Wanda, her help, needed her to push deeper into you. All thoughts had left your head. All you could think about was Wanda. The witch liked it that way.
"Aww, my pretty baby can't do it without my help? Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll show you how to fuck a precious little angel like you."
You winced at the first deep thrust. Wanda's thumb found your clit and swept over it again and again. The stretch became easier to handle but it couldn't quench the frustrated arousal sweeping through your whole body. With all your strength, you wrapped your legs around Wanda's back and pulled her as close as you could.
"Harder. Please, Wan. Please, mommy, fuck me."
Hearing that title from your lips nearly pushed Wanda over the edge.
Nails dug into your hips, making you cry out. Wanda pushed into you as hard as she could, slamming her pelvis into yours with every thrust, but you didn't care. The pleasure exploded in your body, reaching every tiny nerve ending.
"Come for me, baby. Come on mommy’s cock."
Your orgasm ripped through you, only increasing once you felt Wanda's cock erupt in thick spurts of cum, stretching you even more. Your breathing stopped while your body tried to contain all the pleasure. All your nerve endings were fired up, sending ecstasy back to your center, the sensations concentrated on the stretch of your walls around Wanda's cock, pulling you into another orgasm.
It took a while to free yourself from the haze in your brain. You barely registered Wanda speaking words in another language, then the continued stretch stopped.
Wanda waited until your eyes fluttered open again, finding hers.
"Good morning, baby. Sleep well?"
Her lips pulled into a grin. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, if at all possible. But as soon as your brain found words, her thumb swiped over your clit, circling it, shooting pleasure through your abused nerves. You whined, your hands shooting out to grip her wrist. Wanda was still inside you, stretching your pussy to its limits.
"Ah ah ah, baby, hands to yourself. I just want to make this easier for you."
Your grip on her wrist didn't lessen, but you didn't have the strength to stop her anyway. Wanda brushed quick little circles over your clit, making your eyes roll back. Your hips lifted of their own volition, still chasing her touch, but she chose that moment to slowly pull out of you.
Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. Stretching you out had been ecstatic, but this feeling was agonizing. Her thumb pressed over your clit, your walls releasing her cock, bit by bit. Using magic could’ve definitely make this process easier for you, but Wanda wasn’t really looking to make it easier for you.
She pulled out slowly, slower really than she had to, but she loved seeing your walls all stretched around her, your clit fluttering under her thumb.
"You're doing so well for me, sweetheart. Be good, and don't fight it, baby."
Your body couldn’t decide between whines, cries and moans, letting it all out. Wanda basked in the display of pleasure and pain. She loved how your body writhed underneath her, constantly switching between pulling her closer and pushing her away.
Wanda was in total control of your body, just the way she liked it. Her fingers slid up your stomach to your breast and started to toy with your nipples, squeezing and pulling on them. All the painful sensations combined into a pleasure wave, slowly drifting over you.
She paused the movement of her hips for a few seconds, cruelly tracing your thin walls around her cock. Your whines turned into sobs, your body practically vibrating with all the sensations, until she finally took pity on you. Her thumb returned to your clit, the other hand held onto your squirming hips. Her lips found your ear, praising you in hushed tones as she finally pulled out of you.
A final small orgasm pulled out of you, relief flooding your whole body.
Without her cock inside you, your combined cum started flooding out of you, soaking the sheets underneath you.
Wanda's finger swirled through it and pushed some of it back into your stretched entrance. You whined and tried to pull away from her.
"Stay still, baby. I can't have all of this sweetness go to waste. Have to plug you up next time, to make sure to keep all of my cum inside."
Your struggle quickly faded. Your body was overwhelmed, unable, and unwilling to fight Wanda. After all, she knew what was best for you.
Four wet fingers easily pushed the cum back into you, her thumb finding your clit, overstimulation sending you into another quick orgasm, squeezing weakly around her fingers.
"Good job, baby, let me fill you up."
Wanda pulled you closer by your hips, propping your ass up onto her thighs. Your legs fell open, exposing your wide entrance to Wanda's hungry gaze. Your body felt heavy, too heavy to really move, but you knew Wanda would handle your body into any position she wanted it. You didn’t have to think about moving or anything besides breathing, though your body mostly managed that on its own.
"You're perfect like this, sweetheart, all open and ready for me."
Even though you were still incredibly overstimulated, Wanda's praise could easily push you into compliance.
"Wanna be good for you, mommy." Your whispers were barely loud enough to be heard, but Wanda would've caught them over the sounds of bombs raining from the sky.
"Then just lay still and let me fill you up, baby. Gotta make sure my seed takes root."
Your eyes fluttered, and it became difficult to keep them open. You caught glimpses of Wanda stroking her cock eagerly, staring at your freshly fucked pussy.
"Fill me up, mommy, want you to breed me."
Wanda loved you. She really did. Especially when you were fucked-out exhausted but still so incredibly horny. She was glad she hadn't managed to fuck that out of you yet.
She stroked herself while slowly circling your clit, delighted to see your pussy quivering, trying and failing to squeeze around anything. You couldn’t move a muscle even if you wanted to. Wanda would fuck you for as long as she wanted to, so there was no reason for you to move anyway.
The sight in front of her and the thought of breeding you finally pushed her into her second orgasm of the morning. The first ropes of cum landed over your stomach and hips. She kept fisting her cock and aimed at your still gaping entrance, the rest of her cum dripped into you.
Her thumb brushed your clit, making you squeeze around her cum.
Another short but intense orgasm made sure her cum stayed where it should and brought silent tears to your eyes.
"So good for me baby, you did so well. I love how hungry your pussy is for my cum. Love to see my little angel clench around nothing but my cum."
A smile bloomed on your face, and Wanda brushed away the tears from your cheek, mixing with the cum still on her thumb.
"Such a pretty angel. Cry for me, baby."
Crying after an intense orgasm wasn't new for you. And this had been the most intense experience of your life, so Wanda wasn't surprised by your reaction. The fact that it turned her on even more was also a benefit. The tears kept falling, and Wanda kept brushing them away, smiling down at you.
"Getting my thumb all wet, baby, and wet fingers are only good for one thing."
Her featherlight touch had barely left your face when you felt it once again on your clit. You stiffened. You couldn't. Not again. It was too much.
"Can you give me one more, angel? Just one more, and then you can sleep, I promise. Just have to make sure that you take mommy's cum as deep as you can."
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were sure this wasn't necessary to get you pregnant, whether she had cum inside you, tip pushed against your cervix, or masturbating over your gaping hole.
Your body fought against overstimulation. You wanted to be good for Wanda. To give her what she wanted. She was relentless, brushing over your clit. Quietly praising you. Telling you about all the other ways she wanted to breed you until you were finally pregnant and maybe even after that.
Your body slowly came alive again, pleasure reaching out its fingertips.
"Look at me, baby."
Wanda waited until your eyes fluttered open and anchored onto her own. She smiled at you, then looked down at your abused pussy and let her spit drip onto your clit. Your eyes rolled back, and your body quivered under her presence.
With the last vestiges of her sanity intact, Wanda pulled up your hips until her tongue could reach your clit. It barely took a few licks to catapult you into one last orgasm, long and intense, Wanda sucking on your clit throughout until you finally lost all strength in your body.
She carefully lowered you, pulled a pillow under your hips to keep them inclined, and finally laid down next to you, pulling you into her arms.
"Sleep, baby. You did so well for mommy, I’m so proud of you."
You barely registered the praise before you lost consciousness and drifted into a dreamless sleep.
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Mama-in-Training.
Enji Todoroki X F! Reader (smut)
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A/N: life has been whooping my ass, sorry for my inactivity!! i'm trying to post more often, so i might start queuing up some fics to keep posts kinda consistent :3 anyways, for today, i offer you a humble enji fic
Tags: age gap (early 20s — 50s), breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, use of "mommy" and "daddy", size kink/difference
Wordcount: 2.4k
After his divorce, it took Enji a few years to get back into dating. By the time he found you, all of his kids were well into adulthood and moved out. That was fine with you, it would have probably been awkward to play step-mom to his kids who were the same age as you.
However, that didn't mean that you didn't want children of your own. You never really brought it up with your now husband, seeing as he already had a bunch of them. You assumed he didn't want any more, that he was tired. That's the thing about age gaps— you're always in a different stage in life from your partner. It's hard to keep up.
You sat with him in the dining room, quietly eating breakfast together. He was shuffling through a newspaper, his stoic face in tact.
Well, no time like the present. You decided to bring it up.
You took a sip from your tea cup before placing it down gently on the table. You folded your hands on your lap and leaned forward a bit, trying to get his attention.
"Enji."
"Hm?" Enji hummed absentmindedly in response, not taking his eyes off the newspaper for a few more seconds. He reached over and grabbed his own cup to take a sip, his eyes skimming across something in the paper before finally putting it down and looking at you.
"What is it?" he asked, voice gruff and tired.
"I want a child." You kept your eyes trained on his face, watching as his expression changed.
His face slowly shifted from confusion to slight distaste. He wasn't expecting that, not exactly.
He sat up a little straighter and looked at you intently. He wanted to make sure he heard you correctly. "A child? Really?"
"Yes, and I want one soon," you said, picking your teacup up again. You pressed it to your lips, speaking quickly again before drinking. "I'd like more than one, you know."
That last part was news to him. He was already surprised to hear that you wanted one, but two? More?
He let out a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair, crossing one of his legs over the other.
"Why?" He asked bluntly.
Enji didn't want to say no right away, but his children were already adults. He didn't realize you wanted kids of your own. He always assumed you wanted a simple, quiet life with no little brats to deal with.
"You're getting older, you know," you said, voice teetering on teasing. "Don't you think we should strike while the iron is hot? Before you're too old?"
"Who are you calling old, woman?" He rolled his paper and shook it at you, pointing it at you with a small scowl. "I'm in better shape than most men decades younger than me, don't act like I'm on the verge of death."
"I don't know," you said with a shrug, leaning back in your chair with a smug, little grin.
You were trying to rile him up, and it was working. Enji was not a man who held up well to your incessant teasing. It was rather easy to get a rise out of him— a fact that you often exploited.
"You aren't exactly in your prime anymore, are you?"
Damn you, he thought. He stood up, hands splayed on the table, eyes narrowed.
"Who's not in their prime? I'm doing just fine. I'm not even that old, you know that," Enji said in an overly defensive way. It was adorable, watching him get so worked up over a little prodding.
"Then chasing around some kids should be a breeze for you," you retorted sharply, raising an eyebrow in a challenging way. "C'mon, don't you miss having kids in the house? It'll be fun!"
He let out another, more exasperated sigh. Your persistence was a trait he had become accustomed to. Whenever you wanted something from him, you didn't stop until you got it. It was cute, but god, he hated how weak he was for you.
Enji was quiet for a few moments, staring at you as he considered it. He knew that if he kept arguing, this conversation would go on forever. "Fine," he finally relented. "We can start trying."
You clapped a few times in celebration, childishly whooping and cheering over your little victory.
"I knew you'd agree!" You paused and looked over him, a mischievous smile forming. "So, theoretically, we could start right now?"
Enji raised an eyebrow at you as that little grin appeared. He knew that look. "Now?" he repeated, an almost imperceptible smirk of his own began to form. "Right this second?"
You nodded and he scoffed, patting his thigh, thick with muscle and strength.
"Come here, you eager thing."
You did so gleefully, footsteps speedy as you went to sit on his lap, legs hanging over his thighs as you face him head on. You wrapped your arms around his neck.
He watched as you practically rushed over to him, settling comfortably in his lap. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close to him. He leaned forward, lips ghosting against yours before he spoke.
"You really do want a kid, huh?" he asked, smirk fading ever so slightly as reality sunk in.
Enji was battling with himself mentally. He wanted to make you happy. His personal motto had become "anything for you, dear," but did he really want to start over with another plight of snot-nosed kids? He hated to face his own age, but he was getting up there. Could he—?
He thoughts were interrupted by you answering his question, a soft, needy look on your face.
"I do. I really do, Enji. Don't you think I'll make a good mommy?" You braced your hands against his chest, eyes wide with excitement. "I think I'd look good pregnant too, with a cute lil' bump, eh?"
Fuck. Fuck, he really liked that image. Any doubt that was lingering was replaced with you. Full and pregnant. Tits swollen and heavy, face glowing.
A shudder rolled down his body and a low rumble escaped his throat. He couldn't remember the last time he was this turned on. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, nearly pulling you against him completely. He began placing slow, purposeful kisses all over your neck and jawline.
"Yeah?"
He couldn't form any words outside of that, his head foggy with only his desire to fill you up present. The grip he had on you was a little harsher than usual, fingers digging into the fat of your ass through your pants.
You pressed your lips against his roughly, hands carding through his hair.
"I want you to fuck..."
You spoke only when you pulled away for gasps of air, sentences coming out breathless and choppy.
"...all of your cum into me. Want it all, gotta make sure it takes."
He shivered again, your dirty talk getting to him more than he'd like to admit. He let out a low growl as your hands moved through his hair, his grip on you only getting tighter.
He bit down on your lip, pulling you back into another rough kiss. His hands continued to move over your thighs, slowly going further and further up until he was palming your cunt through the layers of fabric covering you.
"Such a dirty mouth," he muttered against your lips. "You really want it, huh? I'll give it to you. I'll fill you up, baby. Whatever you want."
His hands began to slide over your body, caressing your skin gently. His touch continued to linger over you, slowly making its way down lower to where you wanted it most. His fingers began to rub and tease at your core through your underwear, his hand messily shoved down your pants. His tongue licked roughly at the sensitive flesh of your neck. He made a point to leave marks, wanting others to be able to see that you belonged to him.
Soon enough, your full belly would be a mark of his upon you. Hickies would suffice for now, though.
"You're all mine," he said gruffly, his tone possessive as ever. "I'm gonna give you everything you want, baby. Give you everything you need."
Normally, you enjoyed the chase, the teasing. Making out and heavy petting was all a part of the fun, on most days. But not now. Not when you knew exactly what you wanted— and what did you want now?
Non-stop loads.
You shimmied on his lap, kicking your pants off impatiently and staring up at him.
"I want you, and I want you now," you said, trying to sound authoritative only to come off as needy and whiny. "Stop playing around, Enji
He chuckled at your attempt to sound like you were in charge, his lips curling up into that smug, confident smirk.
"Bossy today, aren't we?" His other hand coming up to rest on your waist. His grip was still as harsh as before. "So eager to be knocked up, you've forgotten how to ask nicely."
You groan exasperatedly, resting your head against his chest. "Daddy, please. Don't tease."
"Oh, fuck." He inhaled sharply, fingers rubbing small circles on your hipbones. "You know I love when you talk like that."
That one word was all it took.
You were always able to push the right buttons, to get him to do what you wanted. He pushed your head back, hand cupping your cheek, wanting to see your face.
"That's better," he said, his voice low and rough, almost a whisper. "Begging like that, baby."
Before you could respond, Enji had slung you over his shoulder, dragging you off to the bedroom.
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He slowly repositioned himself until he was settled between your legs, his broad chest pressed to yours. He looked down at you, taking in just how needy you were. He knew you wanted this just as much as he did, if not more, and he was going to make sure he gave you what you needed.
His mouth was back on your neck, more marks being left on your skin. He spoke between sucks and bites, the words muffled. "You're still so eager, baby. All for me."
What round was it now? Three? Four? You couldn't tell. Your legs were cramping from being pushed to your chest for so long. Your greedy little hole was full of cum, dripping onto the silky sheets beneath you. Your mind— a mushy mess.
You felt Enji push his cock back into you, rubbing the head over the leaking mixture of slick and seed that was drooling out of your slit.
You winced a bit at the stretch. No amount of prep could ease the burning stretch of his girth. Your walls were snuggly closed around him.
It was always like this, he was huge, after all. A brief look at his sturdily built, tall figure would give anyone ideas. Obviously, a giant man like him had the cock to match. Every time felt like the first time with him, with the sharp pinch of him sliding in, but God, it was worth it.
He always felt a sense of pride when he took you like this. He was the only one who could make you feel like this, and he knew it. The only one who was allowed to satisfy the need inside you. His ego only grew the further he sunk in, watching your body swallow all of him yet again.
"Jus' one more, baby. Okay? Think you can take one more?"
His large body caged you under him, trapping you completely, strong hands keeping your legs firmly folded.
When you didn't answer, he huffed and brought his calloused thumb over your clit. He rubbed rough circles over the nub.
"You're such a sensitive thing," he mumbled, collecting some of the slick that dripped down the seam of your thighs, right next to your cunt. He smeared the wetness over your clit, smoothing his movements. "So little, too."
"S—shut up," you managed to spit, mouth hanging open as you felt him ram sharply against your cervix, kissing the tip of it with his cock head.
"But it's true."
Meaner than a snake, Enji was. The way he pushed one of his hands down on your lower stomach made you see stars. Every stroke felt deeper than the last— harder. More targeted. He was focused on hitting your deep, spongy weak spot with each of his thrusts.
"How are you going to handle carrying my child, huh? Tiny thing like you. My cock already spilts you in half, the hell are you gonna do with a child of mine?" He was looking down at you, stoic expression tinged with a hint of amusement. "You'll break right in half, baby. Y'aren't strong enough for it."
You huffed, a soft moan slipping through your mouth as he continued to fuck into your tight chasm like a crazed man, little regard for how rough he was being with you.
"I dunno," you mumbled, bottom lip bit tight enough to almost draw blood, "but I know I can handle it. Was made to be yours, daddy. I can take it. I gotta."
His grip on your thighs grew more intense, his hands digging into the soft, pillowy skin. He liked when you said that. He liked that you needed him, that you needed to mother his children.
Enji's teeth tugged at your neck rougher than before, his tongue licking the assaulted skin soothingly. It was a dance of sorts— sharp teeth marking you, marking you bruise and bleed, with a gentle tongue to clean you up right after.
"You really do want it, huh? You need it so bad," he said between rough kisses. "Well then, let's hope it takes."
With that, he braced one hand beside your head, tightly gripping a pillow, and the other leaving bruises on your thigh. He came for the final time, adding to the sopping, sloppy mess that previous rounds left in your hole.
"Ah, fuck. There you go, mama," he groaned, voice tight with satisfaction as he spoke the nickname. "Now, all there is to do is wait."
He kept his cock sheathed inside of you, plugging his cum up in your walls.
"...Unless you think another turn is needed. Fifth time's a charm, isn't it?"
#enji todoroki x reader#enji todoroki#endeavor x reader#enji x reader#smut#bnha x reader#bnha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#endeavor x you#todoroki enji#endeavor
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✿ To All the Boys I've Loved Before! - Masterlist.
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✿ feat. Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Kirishima Eijirou, and Todoroki Shouto.
✿ warnings: to all the boys I've loved before!Au, quirkless!reader, teacher!reader, aged up characters, all the boys are pro-hero (including Deku).
✿ synopsis: Your childhood letters, the ones in which you declare your love for every crush you had, ended up being sent without your permission. What could come of that?
✿ notes: HIIII. I've posted the first chapter, sorry for the delay in the chapters 😩 but I'm trying to finish as quickly as possible with everything I have to do, I swear when you see it, it'll almost be complete!!! One thing is that I'll probably do 4 different endings, if you want me to. But I can also do an ending with all four if you prefer!!! But I'll leave that for later.
01. [PROLOGUE]
your lovely students, discover about the letters. What a mess they made.
02. [IZUKU MIDORIYA]
your first love, and one of the sweetest. You will always remember him, but now things were different for the two of you.
03. [KATSUKI BAKUGOU]
Your second letter, and the worst of all. Sometimes you wonder why you liked him? But would your opinion change now?
04. [KIRISHIMA EIJIROU]
A little teenage love, an unexpected encounter that happened in a coffee shop when you were 15. You never forgot those red eyes and sharp smile.
05. [TODOROKI SHÕTO]
He was just so charming and funny with the way he dealt with things he didn't understand, but you resigned yourself to the fact that you would never have a chance with him, right?
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I read the rules and I hope I'm not doing something against them! I have a cute request... Headconan with the Pomefiore trio (Vil, Rook, Epel Separately) and a female reader who was tasked with taking care of a newborn for a day (I didn't think whose child is this honestly lol I just liked the idea.) and she ask them to help her :3
COMMENTS: I liked the idea! The only problem is that I have 0 experience with children, let alone babies. 😅 So I asked a friend of mine who has taken care of newborns to help me, and she did such a good job that I ended up writing more than I expected. 💜
I hope you and all enjoy it 👶
CHARACTERS: Pomefiore (Vil Schoenheit / Epel Felmier / Rook Hunt)
TAGS: Fluff; Fem Reader; Headcanons; Flirting
WORD COUNT: An average of 680 words per character.
CONTEXT: You hear someone knocking on the door of Ramshackle Dorm and when you open it you find Professor Trein holding in his arms, not Lucius, but a baby.
He explains to you that one of his daughters showed up to visit him and the island, but she needed to do something and asked Professor Trein to take care of his grandson for a while. But Professor Trein still has work to do and can't take care of the baby at the same time, so he asks you to take care of him for a day until his daughter comes back.
He also tells you that if you need help, ask Pomefiore's students as they are some of the ones he trusts most.
“Me? Help take care of a baby? I have never done such a thing. Why would you ask me for help? I'm sure someone with younger siblings would be more qualified for-” Vil is interrupted by the baby who started crying in your arms. He sighs. “Sorry, I shouldn't have spoken that way. May I?”
Vil stretches his arms to ask you to hand him the baby. Despite saying he had no experience with children, he picks up the baby with incredible delicacy.
“You're right, you're right. I shouldn't speak so harshly in front of you.” He says in the sweetest voice you've ever heard from him, as he rocks a little and smiles at the baby. The baby starts to calm down and looks at Vil's face in amazement.
“Someone has good taste.” He chuckles, then looks at you. “Very well, I'll help you. But only because this is Professor Trein's grandson. However, I'm also curious to see how you do on this task.”
Whenever the baby starts crying for some reason, Vil is always very calm about it. No matter how many failed attempts to understand what the baby needs, he will never show any kind of frustration. At least not near the baby.
If the baby is crying because he has a dirty diaper: The first time this happens, Vil will ask you to change it so he can see how it's done. And if it happens again he will offer to do it that time. The two of you will take turns whenever this happens afterwards.
If the baby is crying because he is hungry and needs a bottle, Vil will offer to prepare the milk in the healthiest way for a baby. But he will ask you to be the one to feed the baby.
While you give the baby a bottle, Vil will watch you. Not to check if you are doing it correctly, but to enjoy the sight of you doing it. You can't read minds, so he can imagine that this is your beautiful baby as much as he wants. If you look at him, he will simply smile at you.
If the baby is crying because he is sleepy and Vil offers to try to rock him, you will see him standing and rocking gently while singing a lullaby with his beautiful voice. He will look at you at some point and smirk at your admiring gaze. “You and this baby are lucky.” He will whisper after the baby falls asleep. “I have never sung exclusively for anyone.”
If you rock the baby and sing him a lullaby, Vil will look at you with admiration and affection. And if, by chance, you are singing a song that he knows, he will join you and the two of you will sing together. He will even get closer to you and in the end you will see the baby sleeping in your arms and between the two of you. Vil will smile smugly and whisper to you: “Be careful if you brag about this to anyone. There are people who would kill to be in your place.”
While the baby is sleeping, the two of you will try to entertain yourself in quiet ways. Vil will continue with his usual routines if he can and make you join him. Any beauty treatments he does like skin care, he will do them to you too.
If the baby is crying because he is simply in need of some affection, you will probably be the person in charge of that. Vil will see you talking to the baby, hugging him and giving him little kisses on the cheek, maybe even talking to him in that baby voice.
Vil will start to daydream about you, imagining you taking care of his and your child. And he will smile thinking about it. Entertaining the baby will be your job. Let's face it, you're probably more fun than Vil in this regard.
If you are in a flirting phase with each other, he will approach you, hug you from behind while you hold the baby in your arms and whisper in your ear: “You would be a wonderful mother. And I know that our children would be the fairest of all.”
“You're in luck. I already had to take care of my cousin a few times when he was a newborn, so I have some type of experience at least.” Epel tells you half confident, half fearful.
Even though he wants to convey confidence, you can see that he holds the baby tensely, as if he were holding a very expensive piece of glass and was afraid of breaking it.
When the baby starts crying he immediately gets worried because there are a multitude of reasons why the baby could be crying and you both just have to guess what it is.
He will always interact with the baby with a smile, but the more failed attempts to understand what the baby needs, the more frustrated he will become and it will reach a point where he will grab you by the arm and say in despair: "WHAT DOES HE WANT?!"
If the baby is crying because he has a dirty diaper, Epel will say: "Oh, I've already changed my cousin's diapers a few times, I can take care of that."
If the baby is crying because he is hungry and needs a bottle, Epel will help you prepare the milk for the bottle.
If Epel is the one giving the baby a bottle, you will see him sitting on the sofa focusing on the baby in his arm and on the bottle. At first his expression is almost serious, but as soon as he becomes more comfortable you see him smiling at the baby. “Wow, for someone so little you have a big appetite, don't you? Heh heh.”
If you are the one giving the baby the bottle, Epel will look at you while you are distracted with the baby. If you look at him, he will look away and you will see him blushing slightly because of the things he was thinking.
If the baby is crying because he is sleepy and Epel offers to try to rock him, you will see him standing and rocking gently while singing a lullaby from his homeland with that dialect that you only understand half the words. And you will hear him sing with that sweet voice he has.
If you rock the baby and sing him a lullaby, Epel will look at you with admiration and affection. And if, by chance, you are singing a song that he knows, he will join you and the two of you will sing together. He will even get closer to you and in the end you will see the baby sleeping in your arms and between the two of you. Epel will blush and turn away.
While the baby is sleeping, the two of you will try to entertain yourself in quiet ways. Good chance he'll start carving some apples for you.
If the baby is crying because he is simply in need of some affection, you will probably be the person in charge of that. Epel will see you talking to the baby, hugging him and giving him little kisses on the cheek, maybe even talking to him in that baby voice.
Epel will start to daydream about you, but he won't even dream of telling you anything about it. Eventually, he may join you in making the baby happy.
“You are asking me for help with taking care of a baby? BEAUTÉ! Oh, what a wonderful experience to go through with you of all people! ... If I have any experience with babies? Absolutely none! Isn't that exciting?” He says with an enthusiastic smile and not at all worried, unlike you.
The first time he asks to hold the baby, you may even be reluctant to let him do it. “Protective already?” He smiles at you in admiration. “Indeed, there is no more beautiful and inspiring power in nature than the fierce protection of a mother. Or of any woman over a child. I am so extremely lucky to be able to see this side of you.”
But if you eventually let him hold the baby, you will see him take great care when holding him. And looking at the baby with an extremely affectionate look. “To think that we all started out in this world so fragile. La beauté de la nature.”
When the baby starts crying he will be...excited about it? He genuinely enjoys having to figure out what the baby needs and failing in his attempts. “Oh, we haven't figured it out yet? What could it be?” He says smiling.
If the baby is crying because he has a dirty diaper: The first time this happens, Rook will ask you to change it so he can see how it's done. He can learn and appreciate you at the same time. And if it happens again he will gladly offer to do it that time. The two of you will take turns whenever this happens afterwards.
If the baby is crying because he is hungry and needs a bottle, Rook will help you prepare the milk for the bottle.
Just like with diapers, the first time this happens Rook will ask you to be the one to give the bottle to the baby so he can see how it’s done. However, he learns quickly in the first few seconds. The rest of the time he will simply enjoy the sight of you doing it. And if you look at him, he won't look away, you'll see him looking at you with an extremely admiring and affectionate look, and smiling at you with a slight blush on his face.
After that, if it happens again, Rook will gladly offer to be the one to give the baby the bottle this time. You will see him sitting on the sofa, smiling while focus on the baby in his arm, at least in the beginning. As he begins to feel more comfortable, you will see his shoulders relax. If he looks at you and sees you looking at him with a certain kind of affection, he will smile broadly.
If the baby is crying because he is sleepy, Rook will immediately offer to sing a lullaby to him. But he will teach it to you first in case you don't know, so you can sing it together. Rook will ask you to be the one holding the baby. You can see that he feels more protected and relaxed with you (I wonder why). As you sing, Rook will focus on you while you focus on the baby.
While the baby is sleeping, Rook's attention will remain focused on you. He will join you for any activity you want to do to entertain yourself.
If the baby is crying because he is simply in need of some affection, Rook will try to fulfill this role, but even for a baby his love seems to be too much, and the baby starts to struggle in his arms because he wants you to be the one to give him affection. Rook will be a little sad that he was rejected so brutally honestly, but will be very happy to see you making the baby happy. However, he will continue to help in any way he can.
Rook will see you talking to the baby, hugging him and giving him little kisses on the cheek, maybe even talking to him in that baby voice. And he will start to daydream about you. “You truly are a source of light and comfort. It's impossible not to be captivated by you and this baby is proof of that.”
If you are in a flirting phase with each other, he will go deeper with his praises. “Any child of yours will be deeply fortunate to have you as a mother.” He will come closer to you and whisper to you. “And I wonder if I would have such a privilege to be by your side to raise them. Maybe even help you make them. And see how wonderful it would be to see the two of us together as one... or more.”
If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
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BABYDOLL
PAIRING: choi seungcheol x afab!reader
GENRE: fluff, angst, suggestive (nothing explicit)
TROPES: gym trainer!cheol, office worker!reader, you have INFJ syndrome until you start thirsting for cheol, mutual pining and perversion, wonwoo and lisa besties to lover side plot
LISTEN TO: babydoll by dominic fike
NOTE: unfortunately yes this is based on a brainrot ive been harboring for a real man but since cheol > all other men so here is my way of coping with it! i hope u like it and lmk what u think <3
You liked to think of yourself as a sane person. If anything, you had always had a reputation of having a good head on your shoulders, as the eldest daughter and the ideal student in class. You lived a life of discipline even out of college, waking up early to clean your apartment before you headed out to work and coming back late to a fridge full of meal-prepped tupperwares.
You're sane. So why is it that you can't bring yourself to behave like it around him?
For some context, you had decided your daily 15-minute walk to your apartment from the subway wasn't cutting it anymore. More than anything, you feel like you needed something more intense for the sake of your stiff body. You'd come home feeling creaky as floorboards and without a concrete plan to keep you in shape, you would end up doing some lousy stretching before hitting the sack.
But today that was going to change. You had enrolled as a member in the nearby gym, a solid place from the looks of it. It was your first time in a gym this fancy, equipped with the best of any machine you could imagine but also an ambient changing room where you looked forward to showering in.
You had come in fully prepared, clad in a workout set that was your favorite shade of green. When you'd pulled it out of your closet after all this time, you felt like the inanimate fabric might actually be thanking you for remembering its existence. You had an adequately sized water bottle that you had set to the side when you'd started your cardio for the day, waiting for the personal trainer the lady at the reception had told you would come meet you in 15.
At exactly the 15 minute mark on your treadmill, you'd felt a presence next to you and to your surprise, it was a man wearing the black shirt everyone working in the gym wore with a little crest on the chest. But this man was particularly… built. You didn't like to be indecent about another person when he had yet to introduce himself but the man before you was right out of your dreams– his shoulders wide, that his shirt did little to hide, and his buff arms that he politely crossed waiting for you to notice him.
You pop the earbud in your left ear out, rushing to turn the treadmill off as you turn to greet him. "Oh, I'm sorry– I didn't see you there– Wait, how did this thing stop–"
"Let me get that for you," the man – the dangerously attractive man – leaned over to press a red button that you should've spotted sooner than you did. The treadmill comes to a stop gradually and you try to think of the different ways you could vanish into thin air.
But then the trainer smiles at your panic-sriken experession revealing his dimples and you think you might faint before you'd had a chance to exercise. "Hi, I'm Seungcheol," he holds out his hand to you when you manage to step off the machine in one piece. "But you can call me Cheol." He points to the name-tag on his shirt– another detail you had missed when you were far too busy being a pervert over the general amazing-ness of his build. The name-tag says cheol in lowercase with a few hand-drawn cherries next to it.
"I'm Y/N," you say quietly, shaking his hand. "Sorry about that, by the way. I promise I'm not usually such a klutz. It's just my first time here so I'm kinda nervous."
Cheol simply blinks at you, "Nothing wrong with being a klutz. That's why I'm here. And as for being nervous…" He looks around at the rows of people on treadmills and various other cardio machines and shrugs. "You'll get a hang of it. Just follow me."
You don't have time to stand around gaping at Cheol's words so you do as he says, especially because you would rather die than have him think you're clumsy. But despite your effort to look put-together, you find your control slipping on the first machine he brings you to. It looks like it should be simple enough, a seat with handles for back-rows. Yet, when you sit on it, you can't seem to find the right position to start and when you do, it all feels wrong.
Then, Cheol comes up behind, a hand on your lower back pushing your spine up straight. His voice is gentle in your ear and you meet his eye in the mirror in front of you. "Hold still for me. Throw your shoulders back and focus on pulling with your back."
You do as he says and he gives you a nod of approval. "Remember to breathe," he says, his fingers now on your shoulders, pulling them back to keep them in the right posture. When you're done with the first set, you feel like you've forgotten how to breathe.
"You must be an office-worker," Cheol comments as he lets you take a minute to breathe.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," you frown.
"It's not the best thing for a person's spine. Makes for a stiff spine and whatnot."
You grimace when his words seem to describe you. "You're right. I can't sit with my spine straight for the life of me. Those back-rows almost sucked the life out of me."
"Then I hope you're ready for two more sets," Cheol chuckles, politely grabbing your precious water bottle out of your hands. "Two more sets," you repeat after him, praying that he actually meant no more sets and said the wrong thing. But he stares at you in the mirror, arms crossed, waiting for you to take your position.
By the time, you're done for the day, you think you might have seen God, with the way Cheol pushes you through the workout, throwing sets of shoulder presses and plank holds at you. He must hate you, you think, wiping the sweat off your neck with a hand towel as you watch him write something down on a notepad you only just noticed. You've been really out of it today, huh?
Still, Cheol's disdain for you aside, you couldn't help but marvel at him. His body was so lithe, lifting weights off the floor for you without a huff and demonstrating the exercises you had to do while narrating the movements like it was nothing. What's more, he had this amazing air of authority about him, not letting you give up on an exercise just because you felt like you couldn't do it. If the last set got physically impossible for you, he'd give you a hand but he didn't let you do anything half-earnestly. In short, he's really fucking cool.
You come to your senses when Cheol says, "All right, that's all for today. Thanks for the hard work." You nod, "Thanks, Cheol." You don't have it in you to say anything about the workout, mainly because you're embarrased at how weak you are so you simply smile an awkward smile and leave the room.
God knows you were the worst version of yourself in there, the complete opposite of the composed woman you were on the outside. It was mortifying, honestly, to be that helpless and in front of a man you were attracted – that might have been your greatest nightmare realized into reality.
Which is why you find yourself at the gym a day later, taking a deep breath before greeting the lady. "Hey, I'm here for my PT session," you start and then clearing your throat, you add, "With trainer Cheol?"
The lady looks surprised when she sees you for a split second but then she grins. "Of course, miss L/N. You're just on time." She types rapidly for another second before nodding at you, "Okay, you can start your 15 minutes of cardio and the trainer will meet you there."
You thank her before heading in, finding it a little strange that she looked surprised to see you but shrugging it off when you're welcomed by the lavender-scented changing room. You note to yourself to start buying more scented candles for your house as you place your bag and hoodie in a locker, taking just your bottle out.
You're a minute from finishing your cardio for the day when you hear your name being called. You turn to find Cheol staring at you with an indecipherable glint in his eyes. His arms are crossed, almost like a signature pose on a game character, muscles glistening under the bright gym lights. You stop the treadmill successfully this time as you wave at him, "Hey!"
"...You're back?"
You frown when you hear the question in his voice, "Yeah? Is that not what I'm supposed to do?"
"I mean…"
"I didn't come in yesterday because I woke up feeling like someone beat me up," you add with a pointed look, "But I think you'll forgive me if your customer retention is that low."
Cheol blinks with a smile gradually consuming his expression. "It's not that– I just didn't expect you to come back because you looked mad when you left last time. And well, office-workers are usually inconsistent so I definitely didn't think I'd see you twice in the same week…"
You cross your arms to match his pose, "I wasn't mad, I was a breath away from dropping dead."
"Right, that makes sense," Cheol agrees proudly and you shake your head, "And you must have a grudge against office-workers."
"I don't. All my friends are office-workers. I've just watched the job suck out all the life out of them so I'm not a fan."
"I think you may have defined the word grudge just now," you point out with a poorly disguised laugh.
Cheol pauses before looking you up and down with a cocked brow. "Someone's in a feisty mood today. I like that, it means you're ready for leg day."
You were not ready for leg day. You used to think that your legs would be strong enough since you'd done your share of squatting and running in your lifetime but faced with Cheol's insane workout set-up, you should've seen this coming. It starts off fine– a normal cycle of squats and lunges. But then he adds weights to the equation, increasing it after each set. Then, he takes you to the machines and makes sure you do each rep right. You have a hard time even walking over to the bench where he wants you to hip thrusts.
For a moment, Cheol's eyes betray softness. "You good? We can stop here if you want."
But for all your groaning and heaving, you weren't quite ready to give up yet, the adrenaline doing wonders to your head. "I can stop when I'm dead. Just tell me what to do next."
Cheol perks up at your challenge, "Okay, soldier, calm your horses. We'll do some hip thrusts now but let's start slow."
"You don't have to take it easy on me," you add, taking the barbell from his hands. He smiles, "Don't worry about that, I'm just getting started." You swallow the viscerality of the reaction that rises at his words and force yourself to get into the right position. Cheol must know what he's doing, towering over you with that nefarious smirk, monitoring your movements strictly while instructing you how exactly to maintain your form.
With your eyes fixed on him, you can't help but feel your mind wander, far beyond your control. You can't blame yourself– this angle is sinful. He looks so delectable with his arms crossed across his chest as usual and legs steadily placed close to yours on the ground in case he had to help you out. You wonder what he's like under the trackpants he sports, about his thighs and what they'd feel like under your palm. You wonder what he'd sound like–
You slip mid-rep with your grip on the barbell going loose and you yelp out as the weight bounces dangerously. Cheol's arm flash before you sight, swiftly grabbing the barbell before it hit your shin, throwing it aside with a loud clank. A few people working out near you give you concerned glances but all you can do is heave out a breathe at the sight of Cheol crouched so close to you.
He hauls you with one brawny arm behind your back, holding you close to his face so he could inspect you. "Are you okay?" he asks you gravely, eyes scanning your torso and then going down your legs.
You must be truly sick because even in this situation, you're thrilled. Absolutely thrilled. Because you're so close to Cheol you can feel his breath against your hot neck and you finally have an excuse to paw against his chest, and feel the sinewy warmth under his shirt.
"I'm fine," you muster, mouth unbelievably dry and Cheol takes the wideness of your gaze to be fear. He rests your body back against the bench and you mourn the loss of his touch silently. But then he presses the back of his hand against your cheek and then pats your head.
"You're fine," he repeats your words but with more conviction, a reassurance. "You scared the shit out of me." You breathe out a chuckle, "Sorry. You'd get into trouble if I got injured under your watch right?"
Cheol stares at you. "That's what you're worried about? Not that you almost lost a leg and a half just now?"
You look away with a flushed face. "No, I was never worried about that. I knew you'd catch it before anything happened."
"You should be more worried, then," he responds with a shake of his head, "I'm not perfect. I won't make it every single time."
"Sorry," you sigh, "I'll be more careful." You're quick to give in, especially because you could not stand the reason behind this mess.
You leave after that with Cheol firmly refusing to go on, with something about not taking more chances. You sense something akin to disappointment in his words and feel a pit in your stomach as you head home. You'd started to bond with him finally, with your determination to show up, but this felt like it put you back to square one. Cheol, as reliable as he was, seemed reluctant to open up to you and where he'd finally started to warm up to you, your slip-up today probably reminded you that you were a customer who he needed to train.
Your sleep is fitful that night because you can't stop thinking about your accident. Can't stop thinking what might have happened if you didn't mess up. And then you picture Cheol and his watchful gaze over you the whole time you're there. God, you feel crazy.
–
"What's crazy is that I got a whole box of them for 20 bucks on sale!" Lisa exclaims. You nod at her anecdote about scoring extremely cheap protein powder that slightly concerned you about the quality of the product your co-worker was consuming. Lisa had caught you that afternoon in the lunch room, awkwardly stretching out your legs. When she grilled you about it, you'd revealed your recent gym membership and the consequent soreness.
"I've heard drinking lemon coffee before workouts is really helpful," she adds with an excited grin. Lisa, as it turns out, was a huge gym rat. "And oh, don't ever go to the gym if you haven't slept at least a good 8 hours."
"What?"
"Yeah, lack of sleep combined with exertion is a nightmare for your body."
You tap your nail on the table nervously, worried that would mean you couldn't go to the gym today. Just then, Wonwoo enters the break room with a knowing chuckle. "What bullshit is Lisa feeding you this time, Y/N?"
"Hey!" Lisa protests, "I'm just sharing my years of advice with her since she just started the gym." Your glares at Lisa go unnoticed as she goes ahead and reveals your newest hobby to the man.
You groan, "You make it sound like such a big deal. It's not, I'm just finding ways to keep myself occupied."
"You must be getting old," Wonwoo says as he slides into a chair next to you. "But if I know anything about the gym, it's that it'll keep you young. Especially with the guys that you'll see there."
You stare at Wonwoo, "What the fuck is wrong with you guys? I can't have one normal conversation around here." The man simply elbows you with a chesire grin, "Oh, come on, Y/N. You're always so proper and put-together, it makes me think you're not even living your life."
You go silent, ears redenning at his words. "Wonwoo, that's a little rude," Lisa accuses him, "Y/N's the coolest member of our team, how could disrespect–"
"I'm not, I just mean that you've achieved most of your goals now," he shrugs, "But you probably have a side that you always keep in check. Maybe you should let go a little?"
–
For all your attempts at ignoring Wonwoo's unsolicited advice, you end up thinking about it the whole day. And the next, when you make your way back to the gym. You're a little reluctant to, given you were still embarrassed about your incident last time. But stupid Wonwoo and his way with words.
You found yourself overthinking your outfit for the day, ending up wearing a baby blue sports bra with a strappy back and black sweatpants. You had to admit that it was quite flattering on your figure, with your back tattoo on display, one that said babydoll in a cursive font, a reference to one of your favorite songs and just generally, a cheeky nudge to whoever was reading in the direction of your preferences.
Today, you spot Cheol across the cardio room but with another client, a tall blonde woman who was jogging leisurely at a speed that would have you gasping for breath. She looked like she was in great shape, a flat stomach revealed by her cropped bra and an ass for days that her shorts accentuated. Cheol looked so different than when he was with you, eyes smiling as he continuously hyped the girl up, a proud beam on his face. You don't think you'd even seen all his teeth on display before.
You force yourself to take a treadmill where you can't see him, turning the music on your earbuds all the way up to get your head straight. But every song you listen to reminds you of him. You ignore it anyway, increasing the speed on your treadmill when you catch a glimpse of him escorting the lady out. He really looked like he was enjoying himself, laughing loudly at something she says in a soft voice. She was in a league of her own. Heck, so was Cheol.
The reminder is unpleasant and you have a hard time putting on a smile when Cheol comes to stand at your side with an expectant grin. But in comparison to before, this grin seems dull and his eyes look like they're calculating something, not delighted. You had a feeling this was going to be another difficult session for you.
"That's a nice outfit," he comments when you turn around to him, covered in sweat from your jealousy-driven run. You don't respond to his compliment, feeling like it was empty and honestly, losing your will to please him after what you'd witnessed. You get off the treadmill with a sigh and roll your shoulders back, "What am I doing today?"
Cheol hesitates for a split second at your curtness but moves on quickly, guiding you to the dumbbells. "Arms and back for the lady today," he announces grandly, handing you two dumbbells labelled 10 lbs. You raise your brows at him, wondering if his decision had anything to do with your exceptionally bare back. Reigning in your curiosity, you do as he says.
The first few sets of various basic exercises go by well, so much so that you catch Cheol mumbling a good job in your ear when you pass him the dumbbells. The compliment goes straight to your head – and well, elsewhere – but you control your thoughts, not when you were finally feeling like yourself and not like a perverted idiot lusting over your hot hym trainer.
But then you're at the back-row machine and you lose your drive, glancing uneasily at Cheol. He simply gestures for you to get started. "You know the drill" are his brief words of explanation.
The first set goes by okay with you struggling to finish the last rep but by the time you're in the middle of the second set, you feel a numbing strain in your back, making it a Herculean task to even tug at the handles. You spot Cheol walking over behind you and the pads of his fingers press into your back, somehow landing exactly where the fabric of your bra left you exposed.
Your eyes jump to his in the mirror, the contact sending a wave of heat to all kinds of places and feeling incredibly inappropriate for some reason. Cheol's eyes remain unyielding when you meet them though, his grip extending to your shoulder to pull them back. "Come on," his words splay out like breath on your neck, "Keep going."
You manage the last few reps with his help, groaning in pain when he finally lets you go. He pulls away as soon as you're done, sqaushing any hopes that you had of him sharing the vibe that you had felt. He even takes a large step away to give you air before the next round. You pout as you closely observe him in the mirror, wondering why he was so cold to you. He had seemed warmer a few days ago when you'd shown up to contradict his expectation, maybe even warmer than he had been with that lady earlier. So how come he's back to being distant now?
"Something on your mind?" Cheol asks, coming to your side, "You've been glaring at me for the past minute."
"Nothing."
"Really? You've been weird this whole time you know," he presses. "It's my duty to make sure you're satisfied as my client. So if I'm doing anything wrong…"
You sigh at his words. Satisfied, huh? If Cheol had even the slightest hint to your thoughts every time you were close to him– God, he'd probably drop you as a client altogether. "I'm fine," you say quietly, looking down at your hands instead of at him. You were doing so well at keeping it together and you didn't want to lose your progress to some whim. "Just tired from work."
"Have you been sleeping okay?"
"As okay as I can."
"Have you considered asking for a day off?"
You scoff, "I'm not on my death bed. A few hours of lost sleep won't kill me."
"It will in the long run," Cheol retorts, lips set in a thin line, "And that's the second time you've talked about dying before giving up with me."
You're starting to wish he would stop with his questions. "I'm not suicidal, Cheol," you start, "And I'm not losing sleep because of work anyway."
"Oh, really? What is then? A guy?"
You scowl at his words, "I'd rather not talk about this anymore. It's not funny."
"Didn't say it was," he mumbles but returns to his stance behind you. You feel his palm on your back again, "Let's go for the last set, then."
You pull hard, getting in a few good reps before your back muscles start to give up again. Cheol's in action, forcing your muscles to stay engaged as you continue pulling him. "Breathe for me, doll, you're doing so well. Just five more reps." Forget the fact that you'd done your required 20 reps of the back rows, when you hear Cheol's praise you feel your energy spike up, somehow pulling off 5 more reps.
He lets go with a chuckle, "I knew you had it in you." You slump over, dropping your head in your hands, reeling. Did you hear him right? Doll? Your stomach turns with butterflies, the thought of him using your tattoo exactly in the way you'd intended – fuck, you think you could give the man the best head of his life right now if he let you.
But instead you pretend to be wiped out as you stand up without making any eye contact with him, crouching over your water bottle and taking a few sips. You realized that Cheol was being himself with you, now that you think about it, his sarcastic jabs and his cynical questioning. He was worried about you but didn't want to burden you with it. But to think that you'd managed to get him to praise you despite his aloofness, it made you want to do unthinkable things.
"All right, let's do some shoulder presses next," Cheol says, deciding you'd had enough of a break. You silently nod, following him to the bench. Surprisingly enough, you make it through the rest of the workout without a hitch, even earning yourself an approving hoot from Cheol along the way.
"You're on fire today, aren't you?" he beams and you want to imprint the sight in your mind. "Come on, I'll have do some good stretching today so you won't wake up feeling like someone beat you up again."
You chuckle at the reference to your earlier comment and gladly follow him to the mats where he guides you through some stretches. Then he perches himself in front of you, holding out his hands. "Give me your hands."
You look at him questioningly and he simply waits. Slowly, you put your hands in his, noticing the way his wrap around yours completely. He's big compared to you, easily pulling you toward him while keeping his feet planted above your knees so you could stretch your spine out. You let out a moan at the feeling in your spine, "That feels good."
His hand wrap around your wrist next, resting them on his shoulders– and you swear to God, he's got to be doing this to you on purpose. All you can think about is his skin under your palms, the hard shoulders that you didn't imagine you'd be touching. He continues to mess with you; his hands are on your shins, massaging their way up your legs– your calves, your knees, your thighs.
You pull away with abruptly and his hands dance back down your legs. Cheol's looking up at you with hooded eyes, as if he can read every thought that's running through your head. "Good?" he asks and the vague nature of the question does nothing to help your situation.
You clear your throat, "Yes. Am I done for the day?"
Cheol makes you suffer through some more stretches, ones where he finds an excuse to get his hands on you– an arm stretch with him pulling you from one side or a back stretch where he crossed your arms down firmly. Your head was all but spinning when you're finally done.
"Okay, you're done. Thanks for the session," he exclaims and as you turn to leave, he stops you with a hand on your elbow. "Oh and– Listen, I don't know what's on your mind but don't worry so much. You're doing great, at least in the gym. Sleep well tonight, doll."
–
The only explanation for Cheol's behavior was that he hated you. Because why else would he enjoy torturing you like this? You had never thought you showing up mad to a session would lead to him doing all that– calling you doll of all things. You had all sorts of thoughts in your head right now and none of them you could voice out loud without embarrassing yourself.
That night, you do sleep well, a little too well even. You have sweet dreams after all, dreaming of Cheol in your bed, climbing up your relaxed figure while his hands trailed up your legs, not stopping at your thighs. They make it all the way and the sound that leaves you is undignified but Cheol meets your mouth like he predicted your reaction. His touch burns you and his tongue leaves you feeling like you were starving. You sweat in his arms, his words sending you over the edge in no time.
You wake up the next morning to a mess in your panties, the sight leaving you truly dumbfounded. If you had thought you had come close to regaining your sanity in the last few days, you might just have lost any such hope. You rush to shower, making it cold on purpose so you could cleanse any dirty thoughts away with the remains of last night.
But Cheol's hold on you is strong, even when he isn't forcing you to go through the last few reps of an exercise. You enter the office in a daze that day, going about your daily tasks without a real thought behind your eyes.
It's only when you overhear a conversation in the break room that you come to your senses.
"I'm thinking of changing my hair," Kazuha tells Katie with a thoughtful hum, "But I don't know what to do." You gaze at the younger girls in front of you. Kazuha had long hair the shade of mocha and Katie sported a short blonde bob that bounced when she peeked over her friend's shoulder to look at her phone.
"Oh, you know what you would suit? Blonde streaks!"
"Really?" Kazuha sounds dubious, "I don't know. I'm more of a dark hair girl."
"I know, that's why I said streaks, stupid," Katie pulls out her phone and scrolls through something that looks like an album of hair pictures. "Something like this– Just your bangs, or the ends of your hair."
Intrigued by the conversation, you approach the pair. "Hey, guys," you let yourself known and the two nod quickly when they see you.
"Oh, hi, Y/N!"
"Sorry to interrupt, but I… I had a question."
Katie looks excited, leaning forward with a sneaky grin. "Sure! What is it? Are you seeing someone?"
"What? No, that's not it," you protest, uneasily playing with your mug. "Um, actually, I was… this is a completely hypothetical question, okay?" The two nod eagerly. "If I was to know a guy who was a gym rat of sorts… What kinds of things would you say might interest him?"
"Interest him?" Kazuha says, "Aren't gym rats only into other gym rats?"
"Yeah, I think so, too," Katie echoes, "When you live for the gym, you'd only want a partner who understands the lifestyle. But I did have this friend…"
She trails off and you prod, "A friend?"
"Well, she had a crush on this guy at her gym so she tried to get his number and he–" she cuts herself off with a light laugh, "He said she was too plain. God, he was an asshole. My friend had the latest hairstyle and everything. She cried over him for a week. I told her not to spend so much money on the membership if she was just going there for a guy…"
You nod, "Right… That sounds awful." Eventually, Kazuha and Katie go back to discussing something on their phones and you excuse yourself.
–
You don't go to the gym for the rest of that week, mainly because you're afraid to see Cheol, still not over the wet dream you'd had of him. Thankfully, there hadn't been any more but just the one occurence had you feeling like you'd committed a crime so you stayed away to keep your conscience clean.
A week later, you finally force yourself out of your guilty spiral and head to the gym. At the reception, you pause before heading in for cardio. "Hey, Seol," you call out and she looks up from the computer. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"
"No, please, ask away."
"Is… Does Cheol have a lot of clients?"
Seol looks amused at your question and takes her time riling you up before saying, "Yes, ma'am. He's one of the top trainers in our gym. Sometimes, we have clients asking to switch over to be trained by him because they see him training other people."
"Ah, I see," you say, keeping your tone as flat as possible, "And can I ask how I ended up with him?"
"Oh, well, it was just good timing," Seol says with a polite smile, "He had a client leave after she got promoted at work so you joining worked perfectly."
You nod at her response, thanking her as you head in. So it was just luck.
You don't know what you had expected– Of course, Cheol was popular. You weren't the only one with eyes around here and looks aside, he was genuinely great at his job. You didn't take that for granted but it didn't help the pit in your stomach, when you realized you were just a replacement client on his roster.
Great. You've been in the gym for less than 10 minutes and the crazies have already started.
To make things even worse, you see Cheol next to another woman yet again. This time she's short, a petite figure with long wavy hair and you almost laugh out loud at the situation. Someone must be playing a sick joke on you because how else was every single one of his clients so much prettier than you?
You have to restrain your thoughts before they dig you any deeper in a hole of self-depreciation so you pick out a treadmill away from them.
"Evening, doll," Cheol pipes up next to you, voice cheery as he pats your arm. You contain yourself as you stop your jog and get off. "Do you have to call me that?" you throw, giving him your best icy stare.
He simply grins, "What? Doll? But it's a cute name."
"I already have a name," you cut in, "And someone might get the wrong idea if they heard you."
Cheol regards you with a glint in his eye. What you would do to hear his thoughts. "There's nothing to get wrong," he finally says, "So don't worry."
If anything, his words are a harsh slap of reality. It brings you back to earth effectively so maybe you ought to thank him for it. You make it through that workout without an indecent though– well, okay, there might have been a few but nothing that was enough to put you in a life-threatening position. In fact, you make it through a whole week's worth of sessions with those words.
It's Friday when it all goes down the drain– your hard work at regaining normality with Cheol and your sanity. You're done for the day and in the middle of packing up, when you see Cheol being approached by a woman. Looking up, you realize it's the tall blonde from a few weeks ago. She speaks quickly and quietly but you hear the words drinks on me tonight.
Your stomach churns and you look away without thinking, hoping to run away before you had to hear any more. But Cheol's voice is clear when he responds, "Sorry, I can't. I'm busy tonight."
You hate the way you're relieved at his rejection, the lack of any remorse in his tone and the way he quickly turns back to you. The blonde woman looks dejected and blinks at his back a few times before leaving.
"Wow," you comment when she's gone, "That was cold."
"You think so?" he asks as if it wasn't clear as day. "I was just making myself clear."
"So you have a no-client dating policy?"
"Nah, not really," Cheol shrugs as he rolls up the mat you had used a few minutes ago. "Plus, she's not even my client anymore."
"Oh," you breathe and then feel a sudden burst of courage run through your veins. "So if I was to ask you out…"
Cheol tilts his head, lips lilting, "What about you asking me out?"
Asshole, of course he's making you spell it out for him. You bite back a smile, "Nothing. Just a thought." With that, you leave him hanging, exiting the gym as if you hadn't proposed to take him out on a date without any real conclusion.
It was complicated, you explain to yourself later. For one, you didn't even think he was into you like that. Sure, he could be touchy and flirty around you when he wanted you, and yeah, maybe he didn't call you anything other than doll, but in real terms, those actions had no meaning behind them. They were just that.
And you didn't enjoy putting yourself out like that– asking someone else out. It had always been the other way around, the guys asking you out after days of you charming them. And where you'd always been anything but yourself with Cheol, you weren't ready to let go of your reputation just yet.
–
Maintaining your reputation takes on a questionable turn that weekend when you pass a hair salon on your way home from shopping for some much-needed home supplies. You stop because the sign outside catches your eye. In flashy bubble letters, it reads GYU'S SALON: come by if you want to rediscover your wild side. You find yourself smiling, hand on the door before you have a second to debate it.
Someone at the counter welcomes you and asks you to wait for a moment while they grab a stylist. You take a seat on the couch and look inside the salon. It's not too packed but there's a few customers, most of them women. You see that most of them are young and the observation comforts you. In particular, you notice a girl taking selfies with her new styled hair– a short layered look with blue ends. It looked cool but too bright for you to pull off.
A kind-looking lady with hair the color of plum approaches you. "Hello, are you here for a hair styling session?"
You stand up, "Ah, yeah, I am. Sorry, I don't have an appointment."
"That's fine, I'm free now," she says with a smile, "You must've seen the sign." You don't how she knows but you simply smile back at her. She nods, "Okay, come with me."
The lady's named April, you find out, and she's the funniest person you've met in a while. She's also an expert in hair, it seems, because she can tell the last time you cut your hair was neary two years ago and even points out that you wash your hair every other day. Eventually, you tell her you want to do something different with your hair but nothing too crazy.
"Define crazy."
"Well, this is my first time dying my hair. But I don't want anything too light and please don't cut my hair too short."
"Gosh, you sure have a lot of demands." Then after a moment of running her hands through your hair, playing with its strands, she comes to a decision. "All right, missy, I have something in mind for you."
Two hours later, you have red hair but not too red. It was the exact shade of wine under the salon lights but when you stepped out of the salon, it was more a dark brown. You'd thanked and tipped April generously for her work because she had come through on her word. In the mirror back at home, you admired your hair. April had trimmed off the ends but made sure your hair retained its length. You didn't regret your decision when you had a whole night to overthink it, thrilled whenever you caught sight of your head in a reflective surface. April might have been God's sweet gift to you.
–
That week you're showered in compliments at work with a coworker stopping at your desk every time they realized it was you sitting there typing away in red hair. You'd been somewhat worried that the change wasn't drastic enough for many to notice but you're proven wrong. Kazuha is the first one you run into that day, meeting her in the elevator and it takes her a glance to notice the new hair.
"Y/N? Your hair is so pretty!" she's spinning you around so she can get a better look, "Oh my God, where'd you get it done? It's amazing." You thank her and vaguely describe the salon you'd found by chance.
Later that evening, you walk unusually slow to the gym, taking your time to dwell on the response you might get from Cheol. You're close to the entrance when you see a familiar figure a few feet away. Before you can confirm your suspicion, you also spot an unmissable head of blonde hair.
It's her again. You feel your heart lurch in your chest as you unwittingly stop in your tracks. She's talking to Cheol, her back to you. If it wasn't for the expression on Cheol's face being a clear one of panic, you might have walked your way without a worry (other than the ones that would've spurred out of jealousy). You aproach them cautiously, wanting to get a better understanding of the situation before interfering.
"...is just mean. You led me on! You told me I was–"
"I'm sorry, Haein, if you feel that way but that's just part of my job," Cheol's voice is strained with suppressed emotions and you speed up, "I need you to stop cornering me–"
"Cheol!" you call out loudly, causing both of them to turn towards you. The blonde, Haein apparently, looks annoyed to find you there and you quietly walk over to Cheol's side. He's quiet when you poke him with your elbow. "What're you doing out here? You're gonna be late to my session!"
"Excuse me, miss, but I was in the middle of–"
"I'm sorry but I pay this guy an unbelievable amount of money to train me," you say in your most obsequious voice, "and I work really hard for the money I make. So unless you're about to pay me more than I pay him just to talk to him, why don't we call it a day here?"
When Haein storms off with a few unintelligible curses your way, you let out a laugh of disbelief. Cheol releases a chuckle from beside you, sighing in relief. "That was–" he starts, "Thanks, Y/N. You saved my ass."
"No worries," you reply, "but I wasn't entirely kidding about what I said. You start showing up late to our sessions and I'll start cutting the paycheck."
"You realize that's not how it works, right? You have to pay the same amount of–"
"I don't care how it works, Cheol," you interrupt him.
"For what it's worth," you hear him say as the two you finally enter the gym through its glass doors. "You were pretty cool back there. I felt so safe and protected with you throwing so many big words at her."
You turn to him with a frown, "Big words? I just talked really fast so she couldn't afford to call my bluff."
Cheol laughs at your confession, "It worked. She looked spooked when she finally ran off."
"So she's been bothering you even after you rejected her?"
"Yeah, looks like she thought we had a thing," he mumbles, "but all I did was my job and there's no nicer way to put it."
You grimace, waving at Seol who perks up at the sight of you arriving with Cheol. "That's tough. You should do something about it. I won't always be around to save the day, you know?"
"You're right," Cheol teases, "I need to become independent."
You pause in front of the changing room, "Okay, I'll go put my things away–"
Cheol breaks you off when he takes a step too close to you, voice dropping to a whisper. "Your hair's cute, doll. I'm a lucky man to have a pretty girl like you worry about me."
And then, he's gone with a flash of his smirk. As if he hadn't just left your veins blazing with the rush his words had caused. You drop to your knees inside the changing room, legs weaker than a day of working them out under Cheol's supervision. There's just no way he isn't messing with you on purpose, right?
But then you recall his words from earlier– all I did was my job and there's no nicer way to put it – and you're not so sure anymore. On the one hand, it was objectively not part of his job to call you doll or to have his hands wander your body or to constantly pester you with questions when you seemed out of it or to call you pretty. But at the same time, you couldn't say it was just him being nice to you, making sure you didn't feel unseen.
Your worries find an answer later that day when you're leaving the changing room after another training session. Cheol intercepts you with a look that you've never seen before– uncertainty.
"Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?"
"Yeah, sure, what's up?" you let him pull you aside to a more secluded area behind the reception.
"I know you're too humble to take it seriously but I really do owe you one for earlier," Cheol rubs the back of his neck, a boyish grin on his face, "If you hadn't sepped in, I might have had to agree to go out with her."
"Cheol," you sigh, "I just did that because you looked uncomfortable. You don't have to thank–"
"Thanking you isn't enough," he stresses, "I want to repay you."
You cross your arms, the phrasing of his request piquing your curiosity. "And how exactly do you want to repay me?"
"Let me take you out for dinner."
You hate the way your eyes betray surprise at his words, his pleased smile only doing wonders to the adrenaline rush that slapped you. "What?"
"I know a good place near here but it'll be packed today," Cheol pulls out his phone out of his pants, "But if I make a reservation, we'll be able to get in this week."
"I…"
"Is that a yes?" his eyes are focused on yours, waiting for an answer.
"Sure, but is it okay for us to…?" you find yourself unable to complete your question. "Why wouldn't it be?" Cheol tilts his head, "We're both adults and it's consensual."
"I guess you're right," you admit. Cheol places his phone in front of you, "Your number, doll."
–
If you had thought you were insane a few weeks ago, now you were convinced that you were. Ever since you'd exchanged numbers with Cheol, all you could do was stare at his contact. You'd gone simple, just saving him as Cheol, not before you considered adding a cherry emoji next to his name. It was too much, you decided, settling for the plain name instead.
"Whose murder is she planning this time?"
Wonwoo's question brings you out of your daze and you glare at him. "Yours if you don't shut the fuck up."
"Woah," Wonwoo holds up his hands in surrender, glancing at Lisa, "You sure she isn't up to something?"
"She's got a date tonight," Lisa reveals without a hint of hestitation in her voice. You kick the girl under the table, "Lisa! You're just gonna sell me out like that?"
"Sorry, Y/N, but I have a 100% honesty policy with Woo," she sighs, looking at Wonwoo dreamily. Right, you had almost forgotten. After months of pining for each other, the two had finally confessed to each other, becoming the office's newest couple. It was very sweet and also very inconvenient when you wanted to confide in your best friend.
"Remind me to get a new and single best friend," you murmur to yourself. Wonwoo drags a chair across from you, "So who's the lucky guy?"
"There is no guy. Just a funeral. For you."
"You're so funny today, Y/N," Wonwoo has the audacity to laugh, "Is it someone from your gym? No wonder you've been looking leaner these days. A little extra motivation to hit the gym can go a long way."
"I don't know why I bother hiding things anymore," you cave, "and for the record, it's not because of any guy that I'm getting fitter."
You find yourself doubting your own words that night when you're sitting across from the man, keeling over in laughter at something he said about the menu in this place. It's a unique restaurant with moody lighting and square tables for two scattered across the wooden floors. Most of the tables were already filled with couples, peering over a menu together and sharing a glass of wine.
It's unnervingly romantic, you realize as you sit, tucking the tail of your dress under you. Cheol's eyes never leave you, weighing your reactions to the place. "It's so quiet here," you whisper, still surveying your surroundings, feeling hot under his undivided attention. You hadn't been prepared to be this close. Sure, you had been closer to him in the gym but this was your first time with him in a place outside of the gym, where you couldn't pretend your feelings for him were part of an alter ego you'd made up.
Cheol is real right now, his knees brushing against your bares ones under the table. He looks different tonight, clad in a nice navy shirt whose buttons were unsuprisingly strained against his chest. It was unfair how attractive he looked in a plain outfit.
"You like wine?"
You look at him with a start and nod quickly, "Yeah, I do."
"And what about me?" Cheol sneaks the question in, teeth baring as he grins at your panicked expression. "I'm just kidding. Sorry, I can't help it. You're cute when you're embarrassed."
"And you're just as much of an asshole when you're not in the gym."
He shrug, defined collarbone peeking out at you at the movement. "I'm always myself," he tells you.
The night progresses slowly with Cheol taking his time getting to know you, raining you in question after question about your life– when did you start working? Did you have siblings? Why did you move to the city so young? How many exes did you have? What was your favorite kind of coffee?
"You have a dog?" you exclaim when he shows you a photo of a white Maltese with a doting smile on his face. You hit his arm across the table, "Why wasn't that the first thing you told me?"
Cheol laughs with his head thrown back, "Really? That's what gets you? My dog? I'd take you to meet her but she's living with my brother because I got too busy."
"She's so cute, Cheol! I didn't think you of all people would have a dog."
"What do you mean, me of all people?"
You pause before thinking over your words. "You seem… distant. I thought you would like living alone so nobody bothers you."
Cheol sighs at your words, "What have I done for you to have such an impression of me?"
"I don't know, something about the way you're always cynical? Or your general condescending tone? Or that one time when you told me you hated your friends for being office-workers?"
"Okay, so you clearly like exaggerating things," he protests, "I love my friends, I just wish they lived more. And I'm not cynical, just…"
"Realistic?" you finish his sentence, "Trust me, that's what I tell people, too. But it's all a lie."
"You have a lot to say for someone who actually lives all by herself," Cheol accuses you with a sip of his wine, eyes narrowing, "And I feel like you're way colder than I am. It took me a week to get you to start calling me by my name and not just wait for me to look at you when you needed something."
You groan, "Can you not bring that up? I'm still embarrassed about that."
"Cute," he chirps, "But seriously, you're kinda scary when you're in your head. I get the chills when I imagine what you must be like at work."
"You imagine what I'm like at work?" you tease him, leaning back in your chair.
"You're the one who's telling me you're not like this at work," he points out, "Whatever that means."
"It means I'm cool as a cucumber," you finally say, "I'm a little scary but only to people who deserve it. But I'm mostly just cool. Or at least I was."
Cheol waits for you to go on and you scrape at your empty plate with a fork, missing the pasta you had just devoured just so you could distract yourself. "I was cool before I… met you, I guess."
"Really?" Cheol does nothing to hide the glad grin that breaks out on his face, "What did I do?"
"Pushed me to my limit," you roll your eyes, "You forced me out of my comfort zone."
"So in other words, I bring out your wild side?"
You flush at his choice of words, "Well, I don't know if I'd say that but… maybe."
–
Your date with Cheol is a dream; he pays for the meal, walks you out with a hand on your waist. He even kisses you goodnight, a kiss that's on your mind for the longest time. His lips are beyond your dreams, plump and demanding on yours. It's too bad neither of you make another move because the night ends at a kiss.
You can't wait to see him again, but as it turns out the following week means hell for you at work. You're absolutely swamped in your new assignments, with it being the middle of the month. There's increased visits from superiors and your boss insists you attend every meeting, a gesture that promised you that a promotion was in sight.
It's that hope that keeps you going. You pull a few all-nighters to draft various proposals now that you're your boss' direct right-hand, working earnestly to improve the stellar performance that you were finally getting recognition for. It's on Friday evening that your boss finally notices the bags under your eyes, scolding you for pushing yourself hard. She rushes you out of the office, ordering you to take the day off or she'd force you to.
You reluctantly do as she says, feeling hollow when you step outside in the fresh air. Your eyes feel heavy and you can't say you feel like doing much. Then, you remember Cheol's touch on your skin and with rejuvenated enthusiasm, you take your phone out.
You consider texting him but then settle on calling him since he'd be too busy to check his messages. But as it turns out, he's too busy to pick up too. After some thinking, you decide you'd pay him a visit in the gym anyway, ignoring the lightheaded feeling that threatened to consume you.
Seol greets you at the counter, "Y/N! We missed you this week! Are you okay?"
You sigh, "Yeah, sorry. Work stuff. Is Cheol in?" She nods, much to your relief. "Yeah, he's just finishing up with a client. He should be free for a session in 10."
You thank her as you head in. You knew it wasn't the best idea to work out in this state, but all you could suddenly think about was how Cheol might've taken your absence for the week to be your response to the date. And you hated the thought of that, so you rush to the changing room.
You're 5 minutes into walking on the treadmill when Cheol's familiar presence makes itself known. "Y/N?"
"Cheol, hey," you say, slowing down, "Sorry I wasn't in this whole week, I've been really busy with work."
"That's fine, I figured it'd be something like that." You're surprised he takes it so well, even offering you a small smile. Then, he notices the way you look, eyebags and all. "Hey, doll, are you okay? You look tired."
"Oh, I'm fine, just a little out of it."
"Okay, why don't you take a rest?" He stops the machine before you have a say, his arm firmly pulling you off. His hand then comes to rest against your cheek and you smile against his touch. "You're warm, doll. I don't think you should be working out today."
"But–"
"I don't want to hear it," he's pulling you out of the cardio room without hearing you out. "Come with me. Is there a friend you can call to pick you up?"
"Um, sure, but I can just go home on my own–"
"Just do as I say if you want to live to see another day– And I swear to god, if you make another joke about death, I'll hurt you myself."
"Ooh," you coo at him as he enters the elevator with you, hitting the 5th floor. "Threatening me now? Is that how you treat a pretty girl?"
Cheol's breath is shaky when he lets out a sigh, averting his gaze. "What about when the pretty girl ghosts me for a whole week?"
"I told you, Cheol, I was busy–"
"I know, I know. I'm just teasing. I was just scared I did something wrong for a second." He doesn't let you say anything when the elevator opens, continuing, "Anyway, you can rest in my office while your friend comes to get you."
"You have an office?"
Cheol laughs at your shocked question, "Yeah, that's what I get for bringing in the most clients here. Anyway, go in and take a seat. I'll get you something to drink." You walk into his office, bewildered by the room. He had a nicer desk than you did and little polaroids decorated the board next to his window. It was a cozier place than you would expected to find in a gym. You sit in a chair, giggling at a photo of Kkuma on the wall, wearing a bow the same shade of pink as her tongue.
"So adorable," you say under your breath.
"I know I am," Cheol startles you, coming up next you with a bottle of water.
You elbow him away, starting to feel unusually hot out of the blue. "Sorry, I know it's kinda hot," he apologizes, "I asked them to turn the air up but it takes a while for it to actually work."
You don't say anything, focused on getting your vision to stop losing focus and the man takes a seat across from, concern painting his face when he catches your dazed look. "Hey, look at me. Take a deep breath for me. What's wrong?"
"Hot," you mumble, pressing a hand against your sweaty forehead. It felt like the short five minute walk was catching up to you all at once, your heart starting to hammer wildly in your chest. You press against it in pain.
"Doll," Cheol's voice mellows out, his hand taking yours in his. "Drink some water for me." You do as he says, but the water is lukewarm, doing nothing to help. You swallow hard against the dryness in your throat.
"Okay, that's not going to work," he lets out. And then, his hands are your waist, grabbing the fabric of your shirt, "Y/N, I'm going to take your top off, 'kay?"
Even in your queasy state, you manage to jump at his touch on your bare stomach. "Cheol, I…"
"Trust me, doll," he leans down to meet your eyes. "It'll help." With an obedient hum, you let Cheol take control, him peeling the layer of fabric off your skin. You feel much better almost instantly, the warm air hitting your bare skin. You sigh out as you rest your head in your hands.
"Thanks," you breathe, "I feel like shit."
"That's okay." You look up at him when you catch the hitch in his voice. Through the fuzziness in your vision, you see Cheol avoiding your gaze. You reach for his bicep in your confusion, "Cheol."
He turns to you, eyes wavering as they trail down your neck. You feel heat shoot to your neck at his gaze and he coughs awkwardly. "Sorry," his voice is hoarse, "I'm not looking."
"You can," you state boldly, turning to him. You were wearing an old bra, a plain black thing that had kept you company for decades now, the lace in the back unravelling with wear. But the way Cheol looked at you right now, you could've been wearing the fanciest lingerie in season.
"Y/N," he warns you.
You're feeling better by the moment, vision clearing as your body tempertaure returns to normal. But instead of overheating, you find yourself losing focus for a different reason. You shift closer to Cheol, "If you're embarrassed, do something about it."
Your words stun him, his eyes wide as he stares back to make sure you were the one saying them. But all he finds is unbridled lust in your gaze, hand clawing at his knee, begging him to do something, anything that could help your state.
In a flash, Cheol's shirt is off and you drink in the sight before you hungrily. The sight you'd only ever imagined and dreamed about is finally yours to enjoy and you're going to make every moment worth it. When Cheol hears the desperate mewl you let out, he's pulling you close, hands encompassing your waist. You're on his lap before you know, knees hitting the valley of his pelvis.
"Fuck, you're hotter than I imagined," you groan out, hands roaming his bare back. He bites back an undignified sound at your comment, "Doll, you're making this really hard for me."
You feel his body burning up under yours and you're not sure which one of you is out of breath, but you're panting into his mouth the next thing you know. "This is crazy," he mumbles into you and you can't help but chuckle. "I know," you shoot, thumbs on his cheeks, tracing the skin around his lips. "But I think I went crazy the day I set my eyes on you."
Your shameless admission has Cheol groaning into your skin, his lips attaching to your neck. You feel him bury his face in your hair, inhaling deeply before he finds your face again. "You don't know the kinds of thoughts I've had about you," he laughs, eyes hooded, "I can't even think about you without losing it."
You're about to reveal a part of your suffering when your phone starts ringing. When you see Wonwoo's name on the screen, you jump up with a curse. "Shit, it's Wonwoo."
"Who?"
"He's here to pick you up."
"Why?"
You glare at Cheol, "Because you asked me to ask a friend."
"Right," he says slowly, running a hand through his hair. Even now, all you can think is about the way his stomach contracts with the sharpness of his breath. God, you want him so bad.
"I'm gonna ask him to come up here but we should probably get dressed–"
"I don't want to."
You stare at Cheol with a dumbfounded expression. "Cheol, we have to." After much convincing, you manage to get Cheol's shirt back on, just in time for the knock that comes on his door.
"Wonwoo?" you open the door and smile at your friend. Wonwoo looks worried, not returning your greeting. "Y/N, what the fuck is wrong with you? You didn't get the day off so you could come here and–"
Wonwoo's reprimand is cut short when he catches sight of the other man in the room, mouth hanging open. "Oh, this is–" you turn to introduce Cheol but he's already at your side, holding his hand out for Wonwoo. "Seungcheol," his voice has dropped a magical two octaves, eyes cold.
"I'm Wonwoo, Y/N's friend," Wonwoo says back, shaking his hand uneasily. "Anyway, let's get you out of here–" Wonwoo's hand is on yours to guide you out when Cheol's breaking between you, sticking his arm out in front of you with a frown.
"Cheol, what're you–"
"Sorry, you don't have to bother. I'll take her home."
You gape at his declaration, attempting to shake some sense into him with a harsh Cheol under your breath. But he remains unyielding, staring at Wonwoo to back off. Your friend looks puzzled and you sigh, "Wonwoo, I'll come with–"
But Wonwoo's taking a step back, a playful glint in his eye, "Oh, wait, I just remembered I have a thing to pick up for the boss before I go home. Sorry, Y/N, you'll be fine, right?" He doesn't even bother waiting to hear you confirm your safety before he's rushing down the stairs, not even bothering with the elevator.
When he's gone, you stare at Cheol's back. "What the fuck was that?"
He turns to you, "We're not done here."
"Really? That's your excuse? I can't believe you made me call Wonwoo all the way out here–"
"That was before you got me all worked up, doll," he snaps, "And to top it all off, you expected me to watch you get escorted out of here by another man? I'm a nice guy but I can't just let him get his hands all over you."
You can't help the laugh that leaves you, "Cheol, are you jealous right now? Wonwoo's a friend and he's–" Before you can tell him that Wonwoo's already dating Lisa, Cheol's lips are on you, shutting you up for good. He pulls away when you're too weak to say anything back. "I'll drive you home, doll, so stop worrying. I'll apologize to your friend if I have to, but let me take care of you tonight."
Cheol's true to his word, watching your every move as he walks you to his car. You wonder for a second if he came from money, to be able to afford such a nice car on a gym trainer's salary and then, lose your train of thought when he leans forward to strap your seatbelt in. Catching the flush on your cheeks, he chuckles softly, "You're too nervous, doll. I'm not going to kill you and bury your body so why don't you relax for me?"
He turns on the music, soft jazz hitting your ears and easing your nerves. You quietly ask, "Are we going to your place?"
"Since I don't know where you live," he says, "My place it is."
Cheol's a good driver, not to your surprise, with you falling asleep in the passenger seat on the drive to his home. He stirs you awake 20 minutes later, smiling, "We're here."
Your suspicions about Cheol's wealth are confirmed when you set foot in his place, convinced he was sitting on a crazy inheritance to afford the huge apartment where he lived. "My parents divorced when I was young," he explains when he understands your inquisitory looks, "And my mom felt bad about leaving my life so this is her way of saying sorry. Showering me with luxury. It's burdening but I love her too much to say no at this point."
"Plus," he adds, coming to cup your hand in his, "I get to impress girls with it."
You laugh at his comment, pushing him away, "I'm sure you've have lots of girls over."
"You're the only one that matters," he insists, "At least the only sick one I've brought home just so I can nurse back to health."
He sits you down on his couch, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I'll make you something to eat, okay? Food's the best medicine."
–
In the following weeks, you come to fall even harder for Cheol because outside the gym, he's a man full of love. He meets you after work every day, leading you to his car so you don't have to take the subway, not paying any mind to your protests. He even holds your hand the whole drive back to either of your places, more often his than yours, because he likes to cook you dinner in his kitchen before he makes love to you in his bed.
It's dizzying, being this in love with a man you've lusted after for so long. The sex is mind-blowing, somehow even better than your dreams. You explore his body every second that you can, lips finding their place on his when you're not busy talking. You kiss his back tattoo and tell how much you love it, tracing the lines of the olive tree until you could draw it in your sleep. He shivers under your touch, his tongue on your own tattoo every time you leave your back exposed around him.
"I tried so hard to keep my hands off you the first time you showed up in that backless bra," he admits one evening, circling your tattoo. "Seeing your tattoo made me feel crazy. I could barely think straight that whole day. All I wanted was to feel every inch of your body."
You bury your head in the pillows beneath you, "I knew it! You did that shit on purpose!"
"Of course I did," his large hands roll you off your stomach and onto your back so you're making eye contact with him. "You think I call every pretty client of mine doll? You think I feel all of them up and down?"
"I hoped you didn't," you sigh into his mouth when it inevitably descends on yours.
"You must think I'm a slut if you doubted it for a second," he laughs. You shrug, "You were too hot to not be one."
It's too late to take your words back when Cheol sits up with a pout, "Wow… That's what I get for being into you? You know what–"
"I'm kidding! Cheol, stop, don't go! I was kidding! Hey, come back!"
–
#scoups x y/n#scoups x you#seungcheol x reader#scoups svt#svt fics#svt x reader#hoshi x reader#choi seungcheol#scoups x reader#scoups fics#choi seungcheol x y/n#scoups seventeen#seventeen fics#seventeen imagine#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol fluff#svt fluff#seventeen scenarios#seventeen angst#scoups angst#kpop fic#kpop x reader#kpop imagines
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Bridging the Gap (Lando Norris)
A look into the Norris family summer vacation
Note: english is not my first language. It's been some time since I posted one of these, hopefully I still know how to do it 🥲 A lot of changes have been going on at my job and I've been trying to adjust to all of it without loosing my sanity! For those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough ✨️
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!
my masterlist
Cw: reader is 4 years older than Lando, media scrutiny
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins
The low hum of the television filled the cozy apartment as you and Lando sat on the sofa, nestled comfortably under a soft blanket as his hands absentmindedly traced patterns on your thigh. Lately, it was one of your favorite pastimes - catching up on a show after a long week and simply enjoying each other's presence without having the world around you.
Life with Lando was unexpectedly delightful. His infectious laughter and zest for life were contagious, and even the most mundane days seemed brighter with him around, no matter how many clients you had that day or how much reading you had to do before their next sessions. At the beginning, you couldn't wrap your head around how the way your routines still laced together despite the seemingly different responsibilities, but you cherished the balance you shared.
"Do you have a busy day tomorrow?", your boyfriend asked.
"I have 8 clients, as two of them already cancelled because they're sick, but I managed to adjust the schedule and hopefully I have some time to go to the bank and see about my mortgage payments", you said.
"And in that rearranged schedule, is there a possibility of you spending the night here so we can wake up together before you go be a boss lady?", he wondered as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, softly kissing the skin there.
"I have to be in the office at before 10 am, Lan, I can't have a lie in", you reasoned.
"I have to be up at 7 am to go on a run with Jon, so neither can I", he smirked, knowing he had all the reasons to convince you to stay, "we can have some breakfast together before you leave me".
"I guess I have time to pop home, change and get to work on time", you reasoned, agreeing with his plans.
"I'm glad you think that because my next step was going to kidnap you for the night - I'm talking locking the doors and throwing away the keys", Lando spoke.
Your laughs rubbled as Lando squeezed you tighter against him, basking in the warm feeling on his chest of having you for the rest of the night.
.
A few weeks later, Lando told you Max and Pietra would be in Monaco for a week since they hadn't spent some time together in a while.
"Do you know how your week is going to be? In terms of your schedule I mean", Lando mused, holding your waist as you stirred the food in the pot.
"I had some people move around from their usual schedule, so the weekdays end late but I don't have many appointments on Friday and I have Saturday off", you spoke.
"That's good, means we can spend a nice long weekend together", Lando smiled, kissing your shoulder before resting his chin there, "I'm not sure of all the plans yet but it’ll be fun! And they’re eager to meet you", he grinned, optimism lighting up his face.
"I'm excited to meet them too", you spoke, despite the one looming shadow. The thought of meeting Lando’s close-knit circle always brought a tinge of anxiety with it. His friends were used to seeing him as the carefree poster child of single life - never missing a party or the chance to get a little drunk. Hell, the idea that Lando would rather stay in on a Friday night, watching his girlfriend cook them dinner after spending the afternoon waiting for her to finish her online sessions would baffle Max and all of his friends.
And though Lando never seemed to mind, the idea of them questioning your relationship because of your age gnawed at your insecurity. Even when you were younger, the party scene wasn't your thing and as the years passed, it certainly didn't become it. You were fine with Lando enjoying himself whenever he wanted to and never once objected to that, but feared that his friends would question it.
"There's something on your mind, I can tell that", Lando spoke softly, "would you like to share it with me?".
"It's just...", you tried, knowing he would be able to tell you were lying and knowing that sharing this with him could ease your fears.
"Doesn't have to sound pretty or polished, I just want to know what is on your head", he encouraged softly.
"Maybe they won't want to spend time with me? They're coming here to see you and spend time with you, and there's always the possibility that they might now want to spend time with me", you let it out.
"Why do you think that?", he continued softly.
"Because I'm not hard-core, adrenaline seeking fun!", you added.
"Lovie, the plans we have are just enough fun for everyone, I didn't to do anything too hard-core and they don't either, so we'll be good and have plenty of fun together, yeah?", Lando assured, turning you around and kissing your forehead.
"You are starting to have a way with words", you mumbled, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin in such a protective manner, like no harm in the world could get to you if he was near.
"I catch on a thing or two you say", your boyfriend mumbled, kissing your lips slowly.
"I have to take my lunch to the office tomorrow, I don't have time to come home", you mumbled more to yourself than anything, taking a tupperware box from the cupboards so you wouldn't end up without your packed lunch.
"Pack two of them and I'll meet you in the office", Lando said like it was nothing.
"Sorry, what?", you asked again, afraid you had misheard him.
"You can pack two of them to go and I'll meet you for lunch tomorrow so you don't eat lunch all alone", Lando suggested.
"You don't have to", you reasoned.
"I know I don't, but I want to", Lando smiled, "the next couple of days are going to be busy for me and I need to fill up on time with you so my heart won't miss you as much".
He was ever the charmer and you still blushed at his words, not used to this no matter how many times he did it.
"Fine, but you can't mess up the crayons this time! You left one of them on the floor and I saw my life flash before my eyes when I stepped on it and nearly fell! No funny business in my office!", you joked.
"Does that mean we can't play Jenga and talk about my feelings? How dare you do that to me, woman?", Lando dramatised.
.
The first night of the week Max and Pietra would be spending in Monaco arrived quickly, and while the full day of sessions certainly kept your mind away from all of it, you found yourself at the door of your boyfriend's apartment waiting for him to get it.
"Hello, beautiful", Lando greeted as soon as he saw you, kissing your lips before letting you in, "let me take these", he said as he grabbed your bag and your coat.
"Thank you, I'm sorry I'm a bit late but the last session ran a bit longer than I expexted", you apologised, smoothing over your jeans and checking how you looked in the mirror - after the day you had, you couldn't expect much but you were pleasantly surprised that your hair was still bouncy and forgoing makeup was probably a good idea because you would have smudged it by now.
"You look beautiful as always, Y/N", Lando grabbed your attention, "and don't worry, take out is late too so you don't need to feel bad", he assured, guiding you with him to the living room where the noise was coming from.
"Guys, this is Y/N", Lando announced as they both welcomed you warmly, quickly asking you questions and letting you join in, preparing a drink for you.
"I'm usually heavy handed, but this one is proper, Y/N", he offered you before you took a sip, "I can fix a different one though!".
"It's good, it's good - hits the spot very nicely", you smiled, taking another sip before engaging in conversation.
When the food arrived, Lando asked you to join him in the kitchen to help him plate everything up and bring it to the dining table, opting to use the door closest to it so it would be easier.
As you crossed rhe hallway, you overheard Max and Pietra talking.
“Do you think it works?”, Pietra asked, “I mean, they seem happy, but Lando’s… well, Lando".
Max shrugged, “He’s crazy about her. Age doesn’t matter, does it? But yeah, never thought he’d settle, at least not like this".
You felt a small knot form in your stomach, but before you could dwell on it, Lando appeared at your side, his familiar warmth instantly reassuring as he placed his hand on the small of your back, “You alright?” he asked, noticing the brief flicker of uncertainty in your eyes.
“Yeah", you smiled, deciding in that moment that the security you had together was worth navigating any doubts from others.
As the evening continued, you noticed Max and P exchanging skeptical glances across the table - they're were known for their protective nature over Lando, Max is his bestfriend, so they are particularly wary of anyone close to their beloved friend.
Over the clinking of silverware and hum of conversations, Max finally spoke up, his tone casual but inquisitive, "so, how’s it really going, being with a guy who practically lives on a racetrack?”.
You felt Lando's reassuring nudge beneath the table, prompting you to respond with honesty, "It's definitely something else. Racing is such a demanding world, but we find balance by making time for each other away from it all. So far, it has worked out well".
P leaned back, observing the dynamic between the you, "there must be a lot of pressure, especially with so many eyes watching your every move".
Lando chimed in before you could respond, "Y/N handles it like a champ. Honestly, she’s the calm in my storm", he said, his eyes filled with admiration for you. There wasn't a day that you didn't handle it gracefully, whether it was a fan wanting to take a photo or a reporter wanting to know more than you allowed.
Max and P exchanged another look, this time softer and less guarded - little by little, they began to see what Lando meant by his earlier assurance that you kept him grounded.
As dinner progressed, the conversation turned to shared stories, with Lando guiding the discussion to include moments from your relationship - your mutual love for travel, how you introduced him to the joy of quiet moments, and even shared a humorous tale of your early dates, laughter erupting when he recounted an incident involving mistaking your office with the one next to yours, Lando accidentally entering the lawyer's waiting room with a massive bouquet of flowers and passes to golf.
Max's initial skepticism gradually melted away as he watched you interact. Lando's attentiveness was unmistakable - how he would lean in to catch your words over the din of conversations, or how his eyes crinkled in genuine amusement at your stories. He noticed how effortless and natural your connection seemed, a seamless blend of companionship and partnership.
By the time dessert came around, Pietra seemed convinced, "Alright, alright. I can see what everyone’s been talking about. You both really seem to understand each other in a way that's rare".
"You say that like we don't!", Max complained.
"Shut it, Max, you know what I mean", she mumbled.
Feeling the warmth of acceptance flood the room, Lando laid his hand over yours on the table, grinning with relief and contentment, "Told you she was amazing,” he said, playfully raising his eyebrows.
Max chuckled, raising his glass, "Okay, I admit defeat, I'm not sure we are like this!".
It was in that moment that you realized, the whispers of doubt that had once lingered were no match for the clarity of Lando’s affection. Together, you were creating a narrative all your own, one that defied stereotypes and embraced your unique bond.
.
As the days passed after the gathering, the glow of being surrounded by Lando’s friends began to fade, replaced by the nagging unease that had settled in your mind. You found yourself replaying the conversations from that night, the laughter, the glances, and especially Max's comment, which you still couldn’t quite shake off despite the way the night ended.
One evening, after a long day at work, filled with sessions and schedule arrangements thanks to the flu season, you sat on the sofa, scrolling through social media.
Your heart sank as you stumbled upon a headline featuring Lando. The article speculated about his relationships and how he was often deemed the ultimate bachelor, writing that they believed he wasn't about to change his ways. The more you read, the harder it became to ignore your worries.
Later that night, Lando arrived from his photoshoot, his laughter echoing as he stepped through you door. He instantly brightened the room with his presence, but you struggled to muster so much as a smile.
“Hey! Long day?”, he asked, tilting his head slightly, concern etched across his features as he took a good look at you.
“Just tired", you replied with a half truth. As you settled down, you felt the weight of the unspoken words pressing on your chest, knowing that sooner or later they would find their way out.
“Is everything okay?”, Lando probed, sensing the shift in your mood. Even when you had a bad day, the reception he got wasn't like this.
You hesitated, your thoughts swirling, Do you ever think about what people say… about us?”.
Lando paused, confusion washing over his face, "What do you mean?”.
“I don’t know,” you sighed, looking down, "Like, the way the media talks about you. Or how your friends might see us. What if they don’t accept me? They might think I’m not right for you… for your image".
Lando’s expression shifted from confusion to concern, “Why would you think that?”.
“Because it’s true!”, you almost spat, frustration bubbling to the surface, "You’re this young, popular and successful Formula One driver, and I’m just… well, me. What if they think I’m just an older woman trying to latch onto your fame? What if they don’t see how happy we are?”.
“Stop it", he said gently, but firmly, “you’re not ‘just’ anything, or someone. You’re incredible, and I’m with you because I want to be. Age is just a number and it doesn’t define how meaningful our relationship is, not to me and it shouldn't be to anyone".
But your doubts resurfaced, relentless as you continued with your voice rising with each word, “But what if your family doesn’t feel the same? What if they think I’m not good enough for their sweet boy? I just… I can't help but overthink it. I love you, and I’m terrified of losing you".
Lando stepped closer, taking your hands in his and grounding you with his touch, something you explained to him early on that worked wonders for you, “I can’t control what others think, but my family will see how happy you make me. They care about my happiness, not just some number or date".
“But what if they don’t?”, you whispered, your voice trembling. Over the years, you could remember the times where you told patients exactly that, that their mind was looking for survival so that's where it took them.
“They will!", Lando stated, his grip tightening slightly, “Look, it’s not going to be like this forever. People talk, and yes, media can be ruthless, but what matters is how we feel about each other. And I feel lucky to have you in my life. Please trust that, my love".
You looked for reassurance in his eyes as slowly his words began to soothe the turmoil, but the fear was still there, lurking just beneath the surface.
“I just don’t want to complicate things for you", you said softly.
Lando brushed his fingers against your cheek, a gentle smile breaking through your anxiety, "you’re not complicating things. You’re adding to my life in a way I never knew I needed. Can we just take this one step at a time together?”.
Lando pulled you into a warm embrace, and for a moment, the weight on your heart lightened. Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself to stay in the moment and be there.
“I’ll try", you finally spoke against his shoulder, feeling comfort in his unwavering support.
“I promise I'm not going anywhere", he whispered back, wrapping you tighter in his arms, "we’re in this together".
"Thank you", you mumbled, pecking his lips softly.
"You don't ever need to thank me, not for stuff like this or anything else, we're in this together, lovie", Lando kissed your forehead, "besides, if you ever dump me, I'll have to find a good psychologist to help me through it and you're the best one, so that's another valid point for us to stay together", he chuckled, wanting to get a giggle out of you.
Smiling when he succeeded, Lando squeezed you tighter against him, "never doubt that we were meant to be, Y/N, never".
#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris fic#lando norris fluff#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fluff#f1 fanfic
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