#no he’s not the idiot; you are! GIVE HIM TO ME AND I WILL TAKE CARE OF HIM THE RIGHT WAY

[1425fivefive]

Just saw your kink prompt list and my brain went briefly offline because your writing + any of the kinks on the list? I think i'll literally spontaneously combust.

I'm literally on my knees and begging for Landoscar + 17 (breeding). Alternatively Landoscar + 12 (forced feminization), 21 (wet + messy) or 24 (inexperienced partner).

I read these 4 kink prompts and my brain went 'YES' particularly loudly.

Literally any of the above and I will be the happiest Elf on the Shelf!!

breeding for landoscar (with a lil bit of feminization as a treat)! (for the kink prompt asks)

Oscar needs to find whatever McLaren employee thought it was a good idea to hand Lando a baby and tell them to never do it again. Babies should be banned from the MTC. Banned from anywhere within five kilometers of Lando’s vicinity. Because now that Oscar’s seen Lando with a baby—the way Lando’s eyes lit up, his delighted grin, how he couldn’t stop trying to make the baby laugh—Oscar can’t stop thinking about anything other than knocking Lando up.

Oscar’s not an idiot. He knows they’re both men, knows Lando can’t get pregnant. But it doesn’t stop Oscar from imagining it. Lando’s taut stomach swelling with a baby. Their baby. His tits getting heavy and full, perfect little handfuls. Milk dribbling from his nipples, Oscar licking it up, dragging his tongue over the sensitive buds.

Oscar decides not to mention it, figures Lando will probably be more than a little put off by Oscar telling Lando, a man, that Oscar wants to get him pregnant. Instead, Oscar contents himself with digging his fingers into Lando’s belly while he fucks him, kissing Lando’s neck, telling Lando how pretty he is, how perfect, how well he takes Oscar’s cock. Whenever Oscar comes, he stays in Lando a little longer than usual, fantasizing about making it take.

After a few weeks, Oscar figures Lando hasn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. That Lando thinks Oscar’s just being his usual, adoring self.

But Oscar fucks Lando in front of the bathroom mirror in Lando’s hotel room one night, one hand resting on Lando’s belly, the other squeezing Lando’s pec.

“Gonna fuck you so full of me,” Oscar moans, meeting Lando’s eyes in the mirror. “Get you so fucking full of my come.”

Lando whimpers, tipping his head back against Oscar’s shoulder. “Please, Osc. Want you to.”

“Yeah?” Oscar pants, grinding deeper into Lando. “Want me to fill you up?”

“Please,” Lando whines, hand coming up to grab at Oscar’s hair, tug him closer, deeper. “Make me full. Wanna feel you.”

Oscar feels delirious. He rolls Lando’s nipple between his fingers, drags Lando back on his cock, groaning at the sight of Lando’s dick flopping with each thrust of Oscar’s hips, dark and flushed.

“Touch yourself, sweetheart,” Oscar breathes. “Make yourself feel good.”

Lando whines and brings a hand down to his cock, rim tightening around Oscar.

“Yeah, Lando,” Oscar moans. “Just like that, good girl.”

Oscar doesn’t even realize what he’s said until he sees Lando’s mouth drop open, whole face going red, rim going ridiculously tight around Oscar.

“Oh, fuck,” Oscar stutters, thrusts slowing. “I didn’t, uh—”

Lando shakes his head so fast he looks like he might give himself whiplash, whining, “No, no, I liked it, please, Osc, you can—”

“Jesus,” Oscar groans, sinking his teeth into Lando’s shoulder, fucking in hard.

Lando cries out, cock blurting pre-come over his fingers, his tight little body shaking in Oscar’s hold.

“Yeah, Lando,” Oscar breathes, voice strained. “Make yourself feel good, baby, that’s it.”

“Oh,” Lando gasps, turning his head into Oscar’s neck, hand flying over his cock. “Oh, oh, oh—” He breaks off on a shaky moan, spilling all over his fist and the counter, panting against Oscar’s neck.

“Fuck,” Oscar groans, fingers tightening on Lando’s stomach. “God, Lando, that’s—”

“Osc,” Lando whimpers, starting to tremble from oversensitivity as his orgasm peters out.

Oscar starts to pull out, planning to come across Lando’s arse and thighs, but Lando throws a hand down to Oscar’s hip, keeping him in.

“No, please,” Lando begs, fucking himself back on Oscar’s cock. “Want you to—” He breaks off on a moan, eyes fluttering. But he opens them again, meets Oscar’s in the mirror. “Want you to fill me up,” he whimpers. “Want you to make me yours.”

Oscar’s panting against Lando’s shoulder, fucking him hard, deep, fast, lost in Lando’s eyes.

“Come in me,” Lando whispers. “Want you to give me a baby.”

Oscar comes with a shocked moan, whining and whimpering, spilling inside Lando, palm flat against Lando’s stomach, imagining Lando getting swollen and big with their baby.

“God,” Oscar moans, pressing in deeper, trying to make sure it takes. “God, Lando, fuck—”

“Yeah,” Lando whines, grinding back. “Yeah, Osc, please.”

Oscar gives Lando exactly what he wants. What they both want

After, Lando pulls them to the bed, drags Oscar’s hand to his arse and guides two of Oscar’s fingers to where he’s fucked open and puffy, wet with Oscar’s come.

“Want to keep you in,” Lando whispers, urging Oscar’s fingers inside.

“Fuck,” Oscar gasps and slips his fingers in, swallowing Lando’s whimper with a kiss.

When Oscar pulls back, he asks, “How’d you know?”

“What? That you wanted to knock me up?” Lando asks, smiling lazily.

Oscar huffs a laugh. “Yeah.”

Lando’s grin widens, and he tips his forehead against Oscar’s. “You’re easier to read than you think.”

Oscar’s chest aches, everything going soft. “Nah,” Oscar whispers. “Think you just know me too well.”

Lando tucks himself tighter against Oscar, letting out a pleased little hum.

[ozzgin]

It's Christmas Eve, and you wake up to a baby outside of your home. Your yakuza friends quickly come to your rescue, and thus begins your journey of finding the baby's parents. Daitou ponders his own future family with you. content: female reader, violence, mentions of pregnancy, based on Tokyo Godfathers

[Yandere Yakuza Masterlist] | [More Yandere Works]

You stare at the little basket in disbelief.

On the front steps of your apartment complex, a lone baby is crying and shuffling in the bundle of stale sheets. The event would've been baffling enough by itself; even more incredulous is that someone has decided to drop an infant in the middle of a yakuza quarter, in winter, during a gang war. You glance at the bullet holes left in the entrance wall with pursed lips.

You do the only reasonable thing that comes to mind: call Daitou.

As you settle the baby in your much warmer living room, you hear the door rattle. Daitou barges in, face pale as a sheet. Behind him, Kazuya struggles to catch his breath.

“Why- Why didn’t you tell me,” he shouts, collapsing to his knees.

“What? I literally just did,” you argue, eyeing him in confusion.

Kazuya pats his friend’s shoulder, giving you an awkward smile.

“Just my two cents, (Y/N) love, but perhaps telling him ‘I have a baby’ wasn’t the smartest idea. I didn’t have time to explain the logical fallacies to him.”

Indeed, it was a speedy affair. They were hanging out at the headquarter across the street when Daitou answered your panicked call. He nodded, hung up, then sprang out of his seat, bemoaning that he’s the biggest dumbass on this Earth. How could he have missed the fact he’d gotten you pregnant? When did it happen? Was it a surprise birth? There was no time to consider the logistics – he ran, and ran, indifferent to Kazuya’s desperate pleads to listen.

“Oh my God,” you whine, ruffling his hair. “I found the baby, you idiot. Outside my apartment. It was there, in a basket. I hear it crying this morning and went downstairs to see what’s happening.”

The dark-haired man swings his head back up, having finally connected the dots. The movement is so abrupt, his prosthetic eye plops out and rolls away inconspicuously. You catch it before it reaches the edge of the sofa.

“So, what now?” the blonde man is the first one to break the silence. “Does it have a return address?”

“Nothing,” you confess. “We should figure something out; I don’t have any food or diapers.”

“We could keep it,” Daitou mutters mainly to himself. Maybe it was fate, y’know? Or something like that.

“Yeah? Are you going to breastfeed it, momma?” Kazuya groans, flicking his friend. “A stray cat caring for another stray.”

He’s about to place a cigarette in his mouth, but you slap it away and angrily gesture towards the baby. Ah, yes. Of course. He stuffs it back into his pocket, and continues:

“I say we take the kiddo over to our brothel. Plenty of girls that’ll have a better idea.”

You nod thoughtfully. Kazuya’s mom is one of those girls. How many children came out of this business, you wonder? You wrap the infant back into its sheets, and carefully lift the basket.

The street is suspiciously empty as you make your way to the soapland. Well, it’s Christmas Eve, after all. You recall last year’s Family event, when you met Boss for the first time. Back then you were pouring sake for all the underground elite, now you’re carrying an abandoned baby around. It seems that peaceful holidays aren’t something you can enjoy with the yakuza.

In an immaculately ironic timing to your complaint, a loud, thundering sound flashes past your ears. Before you can turn around, you feel Daitou’s brawny arm around your waist, effortlessly lifting you in the air. You let out a quick, involuntary shriek.

“Keep your head down,” he barks, suddenly grim and serious.

Kazuya mutters a curse under his breath, swiftly turning on his heels and shooting at targets out of your sight. You’ve been caught in one of the armed conflicts.

What a day, you think, hands gripped tightly around the basket. The baby is crying, the bullets are pouring. Daitou is holding you with one arm, the other is occasionally returning the shots.

“You get used to it,” you whisper to the infant. “I’m telling you now, there’s no better company than these two.”

It’s probably better to not be involved in the first place, of course, but if you do find yourself caught in gangster business...Kazuya and Daitou are your guarantee to survival.

Eventually, after what feels like an eternity, your feet touch the ground once more. The matron of the brothel hurries over, fanning herself and tugging at the collar of her kimono.

“My, what a mess. I hope you managed to put a few holes in those rascals,” she says in a husky voice. One can immediately guess she’s a heavy smoker.

She notices your unusual package.

“What’s that?”

“Haven’t you heard? (Y/N) and Daitou are parents,” Kazuya announces with gravity.

The rest of the women gather around, gasping and cheering. You elbow the blonde man, furrowing your brows in annoyance.

“Nonsense. This baby was dropped this morning in front of my building. We thought we’d-”

“Ah!”

One of the women steps forward, inspecting the basket with trembling hands. She narrates the story to you: her friend – the mother – was involved with one of the rival Family members. She’d planned on running away with her partner, you see, but escaping the biggest yakuza branch with a baby in the backseat wasn’t an easy task. She begged to drop the newborn in her friend’s care before her departure. They’d decided on a locker by the train station to perform the unusual exchange.

“I waited for hours, but she never arrived,” the woman concludes. “My God, I thought the poor kid froze to death in one of the postal boxes. She must’ve gone for the nearest convenient hideout!”

You hand her the bundle, and she scurries towards the neighbouring room to do a proper health check. Daitou follows her movements in silence.

“Don’t tell me you wanted to keep it,” you joke.

Kazuya jumps in with a smirk:

“Are you kidding me? He probably planned a whole family trip on the way here.”

The yakuza coughs dryly, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

“D-don’t be ridiculous, man. If we’re done here, I’ll be taking miss (Y/N) home.”

The idea of starting a family with you has crossed his mind, certainly. On the other hand, Daitou isn’t in a rush by any means. He’s rather enjoying the current arrangement, and he loves having you as the most important thing in his life.

“Oh, will you be staying over?” you turn towards your boyfriend. “I haven’t finished wrapping your presents.”

He twirls the glass eye nervously. If you ask him, he’s already gotten the deal of a lifetime. You.

[faithshouseofsmut]

Only you|| Lando Norris

Summary — you and Lando are best friends who have feelings for each other

Warnings smut p in v nipple play teasing

Word count 6934

Reposted form my old account which was deleted

You had been friends with Lando for as long as you could remember—back when the world was simpler, and the only thing that mattered was which video game you were going to play or which movie you’d queue up for a late-night marathon. You’d met at the race track a few years ago, and the connection had been instant—easy, comfortable like you’d known each other for years.

But lately, things have been changing. And neither of you was brave enough to address it.

"Hey, you alright?" Lando's voice broke through your thoughts as you fiddled with the edge of your drink, staring into the cup more than you should. He was leaning on the table, casual as ever, but the way his gaze lingered on you for just a fraction too long made your stomach flip.

You blinked, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You sure? You’ve been kinda off tonight.”

“I’m just... not used to these late nights,” you shrugged, a half-lie, but it was easier than admitting what was going on—your thoughts had become a jumbled mess of *Lando this* and *Lando that*, and you were pretty sure that it wasn’t just a passing phase anymore.

Lando tilted his head, clearly considering pushing further, but he just gave a small nod. “Well, if you need me to kick anyone’s ass for you, just say the word.”

You laughed, trying to shake off the tension. “You’re such a dork, Norris.”

He grinned, and for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed. Like you were still the same two idiots who spent hours arguing about nothing and everything at the same time. But then, for a split second, you saw the way his eyes softened, and for the briefest of moments, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe... maybe he wasn’t joking about being there for you.

Lando felt a pang in his chest at your words��it was so obvious you were deflecting, but he couldn’t press any further without giving himself away. The truth was, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the way his heart sped up whenever you were around, the way his skin tingled whenever your hand accidentally brushed against his.

But he couldn’t say anything. There was too much at stake—the friendship you’d built, the comfort and familiarity of it all. It was too good to lose over a silly, confusing crush.

He sipped his drink, trying to act casual, but he could feel the tension growing between you both—awkward, charged, like the air before a storm. He wanted to say something, anything, to break the tension, but every opening line he could think of sounded wrong in his head.

Instead, he just settled for watching the way your eyes darted around the room, never really focusing on anything for more than a second. You seemed... off, and the fact that you wouldn’t tell him why was eating him alive.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned a little closer, his voice lowering to a whisper. “Seriously, you’re sure you’re alright? You can tell me if something’s going on, you know. I mean, we’re friends, right?”

He didn’t miss the way you tensed up at his question, and it sent a pang of anxiety through him. Had he said something wrong? Was he pushing too hard?

You forced another smile, trying to maintain the facade. “Yeah, of course, we’re friends. Just like always,” you said.

Lando’s frown deepened. That wasn’t the response he was expecting. He had a feeling there was more going on than you were letting on, and the thought was driving him crazy.

He chewed on his lower lip, weighing his words. “Then why do I get the feeling that you're not telling me something? You've been acting weird for a while now—you're not as yourself.”

He waited, studying your reaction. There it was again—that flicker in your eye whenever he mentioned something to do with your behavior.

You swallowed hard, the guilt churning in your stomach. You wanted to tell him—you did. But the words lodged in your throat stuck somewhere between fear and uncertainty.

“It's...it's nothing, I promise,” you insisted, trying to keep your tone light.

But Lando wasn’t buying it. He knew you too well at this point—he could read the signs of a lie better than the track maps he studied religiously.

Sighing, Lando set his mug on the coffee table before gently taking yours out of your hand, setting it right next to yours, and holding your hands in his own.

Lando's touch was soft, his eyes fixed intently on yours. The heat from his hands soaked into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Please, just talk to me,” he said, his voice unusually serious. “I know something's not right—I can see it, okay? Do you think I haven't noticed that you've been acting weird around me? And you won't even tell me why.”

You could hear the worry in his voice, see it in the lines of his face. Dammit, you had made Lando Norris worry. Guilt clawed at your chest—you hated that you were the one to cause that look in his eyes.

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling tight. You wanted to pour out all your feelings right then—about how every touch lately made your skin blaze and how you stayed up at night listening to old voice notes he sent you.

But instead, you just sighed, your shoulders slumping in defeat. “It’s just...it’s complicated, okay?”

Lando tilted his head, a silent encouragement to continue. He was listening now, really listening, his gaze never leaving yours. “Did someone hurt you? Because if they did tell me I’ll take care of it.” Lando says slightly panicked he couldn’t stand the thought of you being hurt in some way the whole thought made his stomach upset.

Your heart clenched at his words—he was always so protective, so quick to defend you from any possible harm. The thought of him going to bat for you was both endearing and a little heart-breaking.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that, I promise,” you reassured him quickly. This wasn’t what you had been worried about, but somehow, your lie only made you feel worse.

“Then darlin tell me what’s bugging you” he pleaded. There was that nickname again. The one that made your heart skip a beat and your palms start to sweat. You bit your lip, hesitating, wondering if you were ready to bear your soul to him like this.

“It’s…it’s stupid, really,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. Lando leaned in closer, a crease forming on his forehead. “Hey, look at me,” he said, gently tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “If it’s bothering you like this, it’s not stupid.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his touch, the soft pressure of his fingertips on your skin. Lando was closer now—so close that you could see the flecks of gold in his normally blue eyes. Somehow, despite everything, your feelings for him had only grown, intensified…and there was no burying it anymore.

“It's...it's you,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself, your heart racing. It was like once you started, the words just kept coming.

"Every time I'm around you, I just...I feel different. Like, I get all fluttery and nervous, and my brain turns to pudding. And I can't stop thinking about you, and...”

You paused, your words catching in your throat. You hadn't meant to dump it all out like that, but once you started, you couldn’t stop.

Lando's eyes widened as you spoke, disbelief and surprise warring on his face. He’d known something was up, but he hadn’t expected this—to hear that you were going through the same things he was.

For a moment, he just sat there, dumbfounded, his grip on your chin still loose but his touch still there. Then, softly, almost reverently, he breathed a single word. “Me?”

You almost laughed—it was so typical for Lando. Even when you were pouring your heart out, the idiot still found some way to be charming.

“Yes, you,” you said flatly, rolling your eyes in a vain attempt to hide your nerves. “Who the hell else would I be talking about?”

Lando chuckled, a soft rumble in his chest, and somehow, you could feel the tension slowly seeping out of the situation.

“I just…I can’t believe it,” he confessed. “I’ve been going crazy over the same thing for months now, I didn’t think you’d…

He trailed off, looking at you with a mix of disbelief and something bordering on awe. You stared at him, your mouth open in surprise. Had he just confessed what you thought he had?

“Wait, back up. You…” You pointed a shaky finger at him, your words coming out in a jumble, “You’ve had a crush on me for months?”

Lando looked sheepish, like a kid caught sneaking cookies. He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish little smile on his face. “Yeah,” he almost winced at the admission, like he expected you to start laughing any moment. “I know, it’s stupid, but I couldn’t help it. Every time we hung out or talked, or even just…it was like I’d just lose my mind.”

He huffed a dry laugh, looking down at his hands, “I never thought…I never thought you felt the same.”

Your heart felt like it could burst out of your chest at his words. Lando Norris, the flirty, carefree prince of Formula 1, had a crush on *you*, a normal, average girl. It didn’t seem real.

“God, we’re both idiots,” you breathed, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Lando looked up at you, eyebrows raised, a mixture of amusement and relief on his face. “Why’s that?” he asked, a hint of a smile on the edge of his lips.

You huffed, shaking your head. “Because neither of us had the balls to say anything until now.” Lando barked a laugh, leaning back against the couch. “That’s a fair point.”

He glanced sidelong at you, some of the easy confidence returning to his usual swagger. “Although I have to say, I’m still a little surprised you never noticed.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “How was I supposed to notice? You’re a big flirt. How was I supposed to know I wasn’t just another one on your list?”

“I could never let you be just another girl on my list,” Lando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, as he gazes deeply into your eyes. The weight of his words hangs in the air, and an electric tension envelops the space between you. You can feel your heart racing, each pulse resonating with the intensity of the moment. Lando’s expression is earnest, revealing a vulnerability that makes your breath catch in your throat. The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, locked in this intimate moment, where all your past encounters seem to dissolve, and only the possibility of something deeper remains.

Your heartbeat hammers in your chest, a cacophony of emotion swirling inside. Lando's confession is more than your racing mind can handle. You hadn't expected to hear those words from him.

You opened your mouth, trying to find the right response, an appropriate reaction to the raw honesty in his eyes. Yet, no words come out. All you can do is sit there, caught between wanting to believe his words and a lingering uncertainty. His eyes are unwavering, fixed on yours, waiting.

Lando looks at you, his gaze unwavering. He can see the storm of emotions playing over your face, the way your mind is racing to make sense of all this. But he isn’t deterred. For him, this isn’t just another flirty banter, another attempt to charm someone into a night of fun. This is real—the realest he’s ever felt about anything in his life.

He reaches out, his fingertips just barely brushing your cheek. The touch is light, and gentle, as if he’s afraid of scaring you away with too much pressure.

The soft touch of his fingertips against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, a stark contrast to the chaotic thoughts swirling in your mind. And yet, despite the confusion and surprise, you find yourself leaning into his touch, almost unconsciously.

“I mean it,” Lando says softly as if reading the unspoken doubt in your silence. His eyes are earnest and intense. “I don’t just… I don’t just ‘flirt’ with everyone. You’re… you’re different.”

Your heart clenches at his words, his quiet honesty. Part of you wants to believe him, to take a leap of faith and trust that this isn’t just empty words. But the other part, the part ruled by doubt and fear, keeps you rooted in place.

“How am I different?” you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze. Lando takes a moment to think before answering, his fingers still tracing light circles on your cheek. His touch is soothing, and grounding—a small patch of calm in the whirlpool of emotions.

“You’re different because you’re *you*,” he finally replies, his voice firm, certain. “You’re not just another girl I flirt with. You’ve been my friend forever. You know me better than anyone. And yet, somehow, you still like me. For me, not just for the thrill of it all.”

The words hit you like a wrecking ball, knocking the air right out of your lungs. He was right. You had been more than willing to accept Lando for all his flaws, his quirks, his vices—everything that made him who he was. And somehow, miraculously, he was offering you the same in return.

“But what if it doesn’t work out?” you whisper, your voice wavering, betraying the lingering threads of doubt. Lando's expression softens, his touch becoming more gentle, more reassuring. “I can’t promise we’re going to be perfect, darling,” he admits quietly. “There’ll be rough spots, I know that. But I can promise I’ll be there for you, through all of it.”

He takes a breath, his gaze never leaving yours. “I can promise I’ll try, with everything I’ve got. To make you happy, to keep you safe, to be good for you.” You look up at Lando, your heart in your throat. Everything in you wants to believe in his words, in the sincerity behind his eyes. But the fear of the unknown, the uncertainty of what the future holds, still whispers doubts in your ear.

“I want to believe you, Lando. I do,” you confess, your voice barely audible. “But I’m scared. I’m scared of getting hurt, of losing what we already have.”

“I know,” Lando nods, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “I get it. I’m scared too.”

He takes a moment, swallowing hard. “But I’m also tired. I’m tired of pretending. Tired of dancing around what both of us have been feeling for months now.”

His hand cups your face then, his touch becoming firmer, more certain. “I’m tired of not having you as more than a friend. And I think...I think you are, too.”

Your eyes flutter shut at his touch, your breath catching in your throat. You hate that he’s right, hate the way his words resonate deep within you. You had been longing for this for months—years if you were being honest with yourself.

You open your eyes again, meeting his gaze. The fear is still there, the doubts still niggling at the edge of your mind, but now...now they’re overpowered by something else. Hope.

“Lando?”

Lando lets out a quiet hum, keeping his gaze fixed on you. He looks as if he’s almost holding his breath, waiting for you to speak.

“Yeah?” he replies, his voice soft, almost tentative.

“Kiss me please?” you ask your voice barely above a whisper. Lando’s eyes widened a fraction, the shock on his face quickly giving way to a look of breathless awe. He looks at you like he can’t quite believe what you’ve just said.

But then, his lips pull into a smile—a bright, brilliant, beautiful smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he breathes out, and then his hand moves from your cheek to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in towards him. The moment your lips meet his, it's like the world disappears. All the noise, the worries, the doubts, they all melt away, leaving nothing but the sensation of Lando's lips on yours.

His mouth is warm, gentle at first, and then with growing confidence as he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer to him. His touch is electrifying, sending shockwaves through your body as his hands pull you onto his lap.

You reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, and tasting the sweetness of his lips. You’ve been craving this for so long—years of yearning compressed into this single moment of release. His hands move under your shirt, skimming over the bare skin of your back, making you shiver against his touch.

The kiss seems to go on forever—a sweet, slow, burning kind of kiss that makes the outside world fade completely. There’s only Lando, only the heat of his body against yours, the pounding of your heart, the way his tongue teases yours, sending sparks straight to your veins.

Finally, you break apart, both of you gasping for air, your foreheads pressed together as you cling to each other. Lando’s eyes are dark, pupils dilated with something primal, something possessive. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispers, breathless, his hand still tracing patterns across your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“I think I might have some idea,” you reply, your breathing still ragged. “You’ve made it pretty damn obvious, you know.”

You can see the hint of a cocky grin on Lando’s face as he ducks his head, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Can you blame me?” he mumbles against your skin, his lips trailing down to your collarbone. “You’re pretty damn irresistible.”

The feel of his teeth, the scrape of his stubble against your skin…it’s driving you insane. Every nerve in your body is on fire, every sense keyed into his touch, his breath, his voice. “I feel like I’ve been going crazy,” Lando murmurs as he nips at your earlobe. “Months of trying to keep my hands off you, trying to pretend I didn’t want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I thought I was going to lose my goddamn mind.”

“Imagine what it’s been like for me,” you reply, your voice hitching as he finds a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear. “Watching you smile and flirt with everyone but me. Listening to you talk about your dates…it was torture.”

Lando pulls back at that, his expression turning apologetic. “God, I’m sorry, darling. But you weren’t exactly making it easy for me either, you know. Looking all cute and pretty and…yeah,” he finishes lamely, his face reddening.

You can’t help but smirk at that. “Not my fault you can’t handle a little temptation,” you tease, poking his chest lightly. Lando huffs, his competitiveness flaring as he nips at your finger. “Oh, I can handle temptation just fine,” he retorts with a hint of a growl. “I’ve been handling it for months, thank you very much.”

He pulls you back onto his lap, his arms wrapping around you, possessive, and suddenly his mouth is on your neck again, his teeth scraping over your pulse point, making you gasp

“You were handling it, were you?” you tease between gasps, arching against him as his tongue trails down the column of your throat. “Doesn’t seem like you were handling it very well…”

His hands slide under your shirt, his touch roaming over your back, your waist, his thumbs dipping under the edge of your bra.

“Trust me, love,” Lando says in a low voice, his hands mapping out every inch of your skin, “You have no idea what kind of self-control I’ve had to exercise. There were times I wanted to pin you against a wall and just…”

His words trail off, but the way his hands grip your hips, the way he tugs you flush against him, make it pretty clear what he wanted to do. “What stopped you, then?” you ask, biting back a moan as his lips find your collarbone, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin. “You seemed to have no problem going after every other girl you wanted…

Lando lets out a soft huff, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath warm on your skin. “Because it was never just a one-night thing, darling,” he mutters, almost too quiet to hear. “None of them…they weren’t you.”

His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and when he looks at you, there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that’s almost staggering.

Your heart clenches at his words, the raw honesty in his eyes robbing you of speech. You’d expected flirty charm and cocky banter, but this…this was something else altogether. Lando Norris, the heartthrob of Formula 1, the man who could have any girl he wanted, was admitting to you, just you, that he’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted you

“Lando I need you so bad,” you say hoping for something to happen between you. Lando’s breath hitches at your words, his grip on you tightening slightly as if he’s barely holding himself back. “Yeah?” he breathes out, his voice shaky, laced with desire. “How bad, darling?”

“Bad enough that I don’t think I can take it anymore,” you confess, your voice quivering. Everything in you is on fire, every nerve endings craving his touch, his lips, his body. You want him, desperately, urgently, and you can see in his eyes that he wants you just as badly.

Lando curses under his breath, his hands gripping your hips as he holds you against him. You feel the hardness of his arousal against you, and the knowledge nearly makes you dizzy. Lando leans forward, his lips finding your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“You have no idea the things I want to do to you, darling,” he murmurs, his voice rough, gravelly with need. “Show me,” you breathe out, your voice hoarse, filled with aching need. “I want to see. I want to know.”

Lando lets out a low moan, his fingers digging into your hips as he turns you so you’re laying on your back on the couch, with him hovering over you, his weight pressing you into the cushion.

His lips are back on your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as his hands slide under your shirt, pushing the fabric up and off, revealing your bare stomach. His mouth follows the path of his hands, leaving a trail of scorching kisses down to the edge of your bra.

Lando looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a silent question in his gaze. You nod, breathless, your body yearning for his touch. Lando hooks a finger under the elastic of your bra, the touch of his knuckles against your skin making you shudder. He tugs the bra off, tossing it onto the floor, and then leans forward to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

His hands roam over your bare chest, fingers dancing over your sensitive skin, igniting a thousand little fires everywhere he touches.

Lando moves his kisses from your lips down to your chest, his mouth trailing down to the valley between your breasts. You arch against him, your body craving more, needing more of his touch, more of him.

“God, you’re stunning,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice wavering, filled with awe. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long, darling…so damn long…”

“I’m right here,” you gasp out, arching your back as his lips close around one nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. “It’s not just you who’s been going crazy, you know…I’ve wanted this too, god, so many times I thought I was going to go crazy…”

Lando chuckles against your skin, the vibration sending another wave of heat through you. “Good to know I haven’t been the only one going mad,” he murmurs, his mouth trailing down your stomach, his hands roaming over your sides. “I couldn’t focus in a race for weeks just thinking about you like this, darling, about how you’d look, how you’d feel…how you’d taste…”

He kisses the inside of your hip, his facial hair scraping against your skin, and then his thumbs are hooking under the waistband of your sweatpants, beginning to pull them down. You lift your hips to help him tug them off, your heart hammering against your ribs in anticipation.

Lando looks down at you, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every inch of bare skin. He curses under his breath, his pupils dilated with desire. “God, look at you,” he mutters, running a trembling hand down your side. “You’re so perfect…so goddamn perfect…”

He moves between your legs, his hands gripping your hips, his touch firm but gentle. “All these months, I’d fantasize about this, about you, laid out like this just for me,” he mumbles, leaning down to press kisses along your inner thighs. “I never thought I’d get to see it for real…”

“I never thought I’d let you see,” you reply breathlessly, your hands tangling in his hair. “But I’m all yours now, Lando. All yours. Show me what you’ve been thinking about…”

Lando groans at your words, his thumb rubbing circles on your hip as he positions himself between your legs. His lips are back on your skin, kissing and sucking and nipping, slowly moving up your thigh until you can feel his breath against your aching core.

“You’re sure?” he asks in a gravelly voice, his eyes meeting yours.

You nod, words failing you. Desire is coursing through your veins like a drug, making you dizzy and needy and aching for more. “Please, Lando,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please, I need you…don’t make me wait anymore….”

Lando lets out another low moan, his breath hot against your skin. “God, I love it when you beg,” he mutters, his voice rough with desire. “I’m gonna give you everything you need, darling…everything you want…

His mouth finally finds your core, and it’s almost enough to make you scream. His tongue is doing glorious things, and it’s all you can do to keep yourself from bucking against him, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

“L-Lando,” you gasp out brokenly, your hands twisting in his hair, holding on for dear life.

Lando hums against you, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you. His grip on your hips tightens as his tongue continues its wicked dance, bringing you closer and closer to the edge

“God, you taste even better than I imagined,” he mutters, his words muffled against your skin. “I want to hear you, darling…want to know I’m making you feel good….”

You can’t help but obey, his words and his touch driving you to the brink of madness. A steady stream of moans and gasps falls from your lips, and Lando groans in response like he’s enjoying your pleasure just as much as you are.

Just when you think you can’t take any more, Lando’s mouth moves away from your core, leaving you feeling bereft, aching with unfulfilled need.

“Why’d you stop?” you gasp out, looking down at him with hazy eyes. Lando grins at you, his lips glistening with your desire.

“Because I’m not done with you yet, darling,” he murmurs as he moves back up your body, his body settling on top of you, his weight pressing you into the couch. “You’re cruel, you know,” you murmur, a shiver running through you as you feel the hard length of his arousal pressing against you. “Leaving me like that…all needy and aching for you.

“You’ll just have to suffer a little while longer,” Lando replies, his voice dripping with feigned innocence, his lips curving into a smirk. He nips at your shoulder, then brushes his lips against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Just think about how good it’ll feel when I finally give you what you want, love…how good I’m going to make you feel…”

You whine in frustration, arching against him, your body desperate for release. Lando laughs against your skin, his hands roaming over your body, igniting a thousand little fires everywhere he touches.

“Look at you, all needy for me,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly with desire. “God, I love seeing you like this…all desperate and begging…I could get addicted to it, you know.”

You’re helpless against him, your body putty in his skillful hands. Every touch, every press of his lips is sending electricity through your veins, lighting up your nerves. You’re so close to the edge, clinging to it desperately as Lando continues to drive you wild.

“Please, Lando, please,” you plead, your voice breathless, desperate. “I need you…I need you so much…I need…I need…”

“What do you need, love?” Lando murmurs, his fingers tracing a path up your inner thigh, dancing ever closer to where you need him most. “You’ll have to use your words, darling…I want to hear you say it…”

You let out a strangled moan, your body quivering with tension. “I need…I need you to touch me,” you finally manage to gasp out, your voice thick with need. “Please, Lando…make me feel good…I can’t take anymore…I can’t…”

Lando lets out a low growl at your words, his hand finally moving to where you need him most. His fingers dip between your folds, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves and stroking it lightly, making you shudder in ecstasy.

“You’re so damn wet, love,” he mutters, his voice rough with desire. “So goddamn responsive for me ... .I've just been touching you for a few minutes and you’re already falling apart in my arms “Feels…feels so good,” you gasp out, your body arching against his touch. Your senses are completely overwhelmed, your whole world narrowed down to the feeling of Lando’s fingers, the sound of his voice, the feel of his weight on top of you. Everything else is distant, hazy, and insignificant compared to him.

“That’s it, darling,” Lando murmurs, his fingers moving more quickly, his touch firmer. “Let go…I’ve got you…I’m right here…I’m gonna take care of you.”

His other hand is cupping your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, his eyes fixed on yours, dark, possessive, intense.

“I need to feel you,” you gasp out between moans, your body clenching tight around his fingers. “Please, Lando…I want you…I need you….”

Lando’s breath hitches at your words, his eyes darkening even further. “God, you have no idea what you do to me,” he mutters, his voice shaking. “You’re goddamn perfect, you know that? Perfect and mine. All mine…”

“More,” you murmur, your body pleading for release. “Please, Lando, more…I need more….”

Lando’s thumb is circling over your clit, his fingers moving deeper, faster, driving you to the brink of insanity. “Is this enough, darling?” he asks, his voice rough but his touch still gentle. “Or do you need even more? Tell me what you want, love…I’ll give you whatever you need.

“You.” The word comes out barely coherent, but you manage to force it out in a gasp. “I want you. I need you. All of you. I can’t take this anymore, Lando. I can’t…please…please…please….”

Lando’s eyes widen at your words, a guttural moan escaping his lips. “Christ, darlin’,” he mutters, his voice tight with control, “you keep talking like that, and that’ll be over before it even starts.”

“Then don’t make me wait anymore,” you beg, your body trembling with need. “Please, Lando, I don’t think I can take it…I need to feel you…I need you now…”

Lando’s fingers continue their torturous rhythm, his other hand holding your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. You can see the struggle for control in his eyes, the tension in his body, the barely contained desire. He’s just as desperate as you are, just as needy

“Are you sure, darlin?” he asks, his voice strained with self-control. “Once I give you what you want, I won’t be able to stop. I won’t be able to hold back anymore…I’ll take you right here and now, just like you want…are you sure you’re ready for that…?”

You’ve never been more certain of anything in your life. You nod, the word tumbling out of you, pleading, desperate. “Yes. Yes. God, Lando…yes, I’m ready. More than ready. I want you, all of you. Now. Please…”

A guttural moan escapes Lando’s lips at your words, the sound raw and primal. “God, you’re going to be the death of me, darlin,” he mutters, his hands moving to your hips, gripping them as he positions himself between your legs. “But…goddammit…I’m not going to fight it anymore…”

He leans down, his lips claiming yours in a fierce, possessive kiss, his body pressed fully against yours. You can feel his need, his desire, his desperation mirrored in every movement, in every slide of his tongue against yours. His hands shift to your thighs, spreading your legs wider, aligning your bodies perfectly

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he mutters between kisses, his voice rough, hoarse with lust. “So goddamn perfect…all laid out for me…all mine.

His hips press against yours, the heat, the hardness of his arousal making you gasp against his lips. “I need you, darlin,” he mutters, his hands skimming up your sides, his touch sending sparks of heat through you. “I need you so damn much it hurts…I can’t hold back anymore…I can’t…”

“Then don’t,” you whisper, your body arching against his, pleading for him. “Please, Lando…don’t hold back anymore…I’m all yours…please…”

Lando lets out another guttural moan, his control finally snapping. “God, darlin, the things you do to me…goddamn…”

He shifts his weight, positioning himself at your entrance, the tension in his body like a coiled spring. “You sure about this, love? You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you murmur, your body aching with need, your heart filled with a certainty you’ve never felt before. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, Lando. I want you, goddammit, I need you…I’m yours…please…please…please….”

Your words are like a match to a fuse, igniting the last shred of his control. Lando lets out a guttural moan, his hands gripping your hips, his body tense, trembling with the effort of restraining himself. He takes a shaky breath, his blue eyes meeting yours, dilated with desire.

“You’re mine, darlin,” he repeats, his voice a hoarse whisper. “All mine.”

And with that, he finally surrenders to his need, his control shattered. His body sheathes itself within you, filling you, stretching you, claiming you in a way that’s primal and possessive and perfect. A moan tears from your throat, your body arching against his, sparks of pleasure dancing through you, igniting every nerve.

Lando lets out a guttural groan, his body shuddering against yours. “God, you feel so good,” he gasps out, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “So damn perfect…you’re going to be the death of me, darlin

Your world narrows down to the sensation of him within you, his body moving against yours, the feel of his hands, his mouth, his body on and around you. Your whole world is Lando: his breath against your skin, the taste of his neck, the feel of his body moving against yours.

“God, yes,” you gasp out between moans, your body meeting his every thrust, your hands tracing over his back, feeling the shifting muscles beneath your palms. “Lando…Lando…God, you feel so good…so perfect…

"Oh, lord have mercy-" you gasped your eyes rolling at the back of your head.

"Oh, he had plenty when he made you. My. fucking. Friend." Lando says between thrusts.

Lando’s words are like fuel to the fire, igniting a heat within you that’s almost primal, almost feral. You cling to him, your body quivering, your nails digging into his skin. He lets out another guttural moan, his body trembling with the effort of holding back, his restraint paper-thin.

"I don’t think I’m going to last much longer, darlin," he gasps out, his voice rough, strained. "You feel too good…too perfect…”

"Just let go, Lando," you breathe out, your voice hoarse, a plea, a command, a plea. "I want you to. Come for me…show me how good I make you feel…"

Lando’s body shudders at your words, his control finally, blissfully breaking. “Goddammit, darlin, you have no idea what you do to me,” he mutters, his voice a hoarse growl. “You drive me wild, love…god damn…I can’t…I can’t…”

He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes locked on yours, his body trembling, taut, quivering with tension. “Are you close, darlin?” he gasps out, his voice tight, strangled.

You nod, your body clenching around him, your hands clinging to his shoulders, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. “I…I’m so close, Lando,” you manage to gasp out, your eyes meeting his, filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation.

Lando’s eyes darken at your words, a possessive, primal spark igniting in his gaze. “That’s it, darlin,” he murmurs, his body moving faster, harder, deeper, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your skin. “Let go for me. Let go for me…I want to feel you…I want to feel you come undone in my arms…”

You’re helpless to resist his pleas, your body quivering, ready to burst. His voice, his touch, his body, it’s all too much, too intense. You’re teetering on the edge, so close to the precipice, hanging on by a mere thread.

“L-Lando…” you manage to moan out, your voice shaky, breathless. “I’m…I’m…I’m…”

Lando’s body trembles with the effort of holding back, his restraint hanging on by a thread. “That’s it, darlin,” he gasps out, his voice ragged, tight. “Let go. Let go, darling. I’ve got you…I’ve got you”

The tension finally snaps, your body seizing up, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you like a wall of fire. You cry out, your nails digging into Lando’s back, your body shuddering with the force of your release.

Lando lets out a guttural moan at the feeling, his body tensing, his hips stuttering, his control finally, blissfully broken. “Goddammit, darlin,” he mutters, his voice a hoarse gasp. “That’s it…that’s it…I’m right there with you, darlin,” he gasps out, his body shuddering against yours, his release crashing over him like a tsunami. “Goddamn…you’ve got me completely wrecked, love…I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to recover.”

You cling to him, both of you trembling in the aftermath, holding onto each other for dear life. The room is filled with the sounds of your panting breaths, the thump of your heartbeats, the rustle of the sheets beneath you.

Lando’s arms wrap around you, his body pressing against yours, holding you tightly to him. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He’s still shaking, still quivering with the aftershocks of the pleasure you’ve just experienced together.

"Goddamn, darlin," he mutters, his voice low, rough. "You wreck me. Every time. You completely wreck me."

You let out a soft, contented sigh, your body relaxing into his embrace. “That was…that was intense,” you murmur, your fingers tracing lazy circles over his back. “I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

Lando lets out a soft, hoarse chuckle at your words, the sound vibrating against your skin. “That’s what I was aiming for, darlin,” he mutters, his lips brushing over your neck. “I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a few days.”

“You succeeded,” you say, a smile curving your lips, your body still tingling, still humming with the aftermath. “I don’t think I’m ever going to be the same after that.”

Lando lets out a soft, possessive moan at your words, his arms tightening around you. “Good,” he mutters, his lips moving over your skin, “because I plan on doing that to you again and again, darlin. Over and over. Until you can’t even remember your own name.”

You let out a soft, contented sigh, a shiver of anticipation running through you. “Is that a promise?” you murmur, your voice soft, sultry.

Lando lets out a low rumble of affirmation, his lips finding the sensitive spot behind your ear. “It’s a promise, darlin,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “I’m going to keep you in bed for days, love. Until you forget everything except my name.”

You shiver at the possessive, primal note in his voice, the promise in his words. “You’re going to wear me out,” you murmur, your body already stirring with renewed desire.

Lando lets out another low rumble, his hands beginning to wander over your body, reigniting the fire between you. “That’s the plan, darlin,” he mutters, his lips moving down your neck, “to wear you out and then wear you out some more. I can’t get enough of you, love. I never will.”

You let out a soft, wanton moan, your body arching against his, your heart swelling with a mixture of pleasure and desire. “You’re insatiable,” you murmur, your fingers tangling in his hair.

"Only with you, darling . Only you,”

[honeyedfate]

backstage confessions | 심재윤

pairing. jake sim x fem!reader + feat. enhypen

genre. fluff (+ crack? im just a comedian really)

a/n. my first fic on this sideblog!! enjoy x

“what are you looking at?” jay’s teasing voice comes from beside you, effectively snapping you out of your daze.

you turn to him hesitantly, feeling like you just got caught doing something sinful. “mm?”

jay holds your gaze, clearly unimpressed by your pretence while taking a bite from his banana. he chews like he has all the time in the world and for a moment you wonder if he had spoken at all. then, he swallows and his lips curve into a smile. the kind you wear when you’ve already stolen someone’s wallet and are now humouring them.

“you were staring,” he eventually says. “at jake.”

“well, damn.” you laugh awkwardly. “don’t make it sound like a crime. and i wasn’t—“

“yea, no.” he shakes his head. “don’t even try. you were locked in for, like, the past 10 minutes. it was serious for you.”

“i have my reasons,” you sputter defensively, hoping those reasons will materialise inside your head right now. then the rest of his words catch up to you and you pull a face. “you’ve been looking at me for 10 minutes?”

“you would’ve noticed if you weren’t too busy doing the same thing to someone else.” jay snorts quietly. “besides, there are no reasons. or there’s only one, really. i don’t know if you know what it is, but i do. i know that look.”

you arch your brows. “you sound confident.”

he nods, tossing the peel of his banana into the nearest bin. “i’m not a gambling man but i would bet on it.”

“enlighten me then.”

jay squints his eyes, giving you a look that almost rudely says right. as if you’re ready to hear the truth. and you probably aren’t, but you’re fatally curious and the thought of someone knowing you better than yourself feels both touching and offensive.

“enlighten you about what?” another curious voice cuts in and the two of you swivel around, coming face to face with none other than jake. he tilts his head to the side, big black eyes innocently meeting yours as a strand of curled hair falls down his forehead and oh. oh, you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that.

jay clears his throat, glancing at you as if to check if you’re drooling. “erm, just you know…” he helplessly flails his hands around, gesturing at everything and nothing at all. “stuff.”

you stare up at him.

“smooth,” you mumble under your breath and he elbows your side. jake’s gaze darts between you two.

“you want him to enlighten you about… stuff.” he repeats flatly and you swear you hear jay wince beside you. yes, this is extremely painful and it’s your fault, you hiss at him telepathically, hoping he could hear it. sadly, absolutely nothing comes to mind to eradicate the situation, so you just smile back nervously.

jake eventually bites his lip and forces an awkward laugh, taking a step back while his eyes shine with something you can’t place. “sorry, didn’t mean to pry. if you guys have secrets, that’s none of my business, erm, i’ll just go see what the others are doing.” with an even more awkward wave, he leaves the room.

you round on jay. “what was that?”

he retreats with his palms up, laughing sheepishly. “that was close, wasn’t it?”

“you think?” you say bitterly, flopping down on the cluttered couch, pulling out someone’s charger from beneath you. you haven’t even realised how fast your heart was pumping, but you suppose that seems like an adequate reaction seeing how the boy you’ve been stupidly in love with for months might’ve overheard how you were staring at him yearningly like an idiot. or a creep. god, maybe it’s an heart attack.

“you know,” says jay as he sits down on the opposite couch, speaking at a normal volume now that everyone has left the waiting room. “one day, you will have to tell him. does it really make that much of a difference if you do it today or next week?”

you shoot him an incredulous look. “park jongseong, you’re funny if you believe i was planning on telling him a damn thing. hilarious, actually, for thinking i’d do it next week as if i’d saved it in my calendar.”

“jake probably has.” jay shrugs, smiling fondly. “he probably has an alarm set too. he’s such a J.”

“you’re a J,” says heeseung the moment he strolls into the room, door falling shut behind him. “hey, y/n.”

you flash him a smile over your shoulder. “hi, hee.”

he takes a seat on your left and offers you an open bag of peanuts. you take some and he extends the courtesy to jay who stares at him blankly.

“trying to kill me again?”

“what? you’re not allergic to peanuts.” heeseung frowns, glancing at you. “right?”

“leave me out of it,” you say. “i’m feeling murderous today so if he is, those nuts should not be anywhere near me.”

he studies your face as though to see if you’re serious. “okay then,” heeseung mutters to himself before turning back to his friend. “well, are you?”

jay’s brows furrow. “no, i was just kidding. but you should know if i’m allergic or not, man. peanut allergies are not a joke. we’ve known each other for years, what the hell?”

heeseung stares at him in bewilderment. “you’re not even allergic.”

“i could’ve been, you a—“

“what’s going on?” jungwon cuts him off as he walks in. the others shuffle in behind him, looking at jay and heeseung curiously. “why are you fighting?”

neither of them reply while everyone else makes themselves comfortable on the couch. it’s a whirlwind of movements and things being shoved aside and someone saying “you’re sitting on my hand, riki.” and before you know it, heeseung and jake are sat on either side of you.

sunghoon looks around expectantly. “so? what are we fighting about? might as well join.”

heeseung huffs and pours some more peanuts into your palm, nearly emptying the whole thing. “nothing, he’s just being weird,” he grunts and you grin at jay while he pouts and looks away. apparently, that seems to be a good enough response for everyone and they fall into mindless chatter and doomscrolling on their phones.

you’re in the middle of talking to sunoo about a drama you started last night when you suddenly feel a hand gently wrapping around your left wrist. jake grins at your startled reaction and pulls it towards him to pick some peanuts from your palm. “sorry,” he says with way too much amusement for it to be remotely genuine.

“s’alright,” you reply, not able to stop yourself from smiling shyly when you realise how close you’ve been sitting. you’re close enough to count his lashes if you wanted to, especially when he reaches up to remove a piece of lint from your hair and lets you blow it away.

“oh, wait, i wanted to show you something.” he fishes out his phone and lets his other arm fall on his thigh. since his leg is pressed up against yours, his hand is lying on your thigh and you really don’t want to think too much about it because you might squeal and pass away from embarrassment.

before you can ponder the possibility of that happening, he moves his arm behind your back and pulls you into his side. you are so proud of yourself for masking your surprise and biting back a yelp. the whiff of his perfume and something that smells so undeniably like him drifts to your nose as jake leans closer to show you his screen. you’re looking at the pepe the king prawn trend on tiktok where people share their traumatic experiences, and this one in particular has you in stitches in less than four seconds.

“i knew you’d like this one.” he beams at you with a hint of pride in this voice.

“you were blowing up my phone with these last week.” you move back a little after the last slide, the last remnants of a good laugh hanging in the air between you.

“because i know you’d find them funny,” he says with a shrug like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

you hum at the memory. “i had to turn off my phone because i was in the studio and wouldn’t have gotten any work done if your name had kept popping up.”

“oh?” jake looks pleased to hear that. he leans in closer, lowering his voice to a teasing murmur. “why? can’t resist?”

you playfully narrow your eyes at him. “shut up, you know how curious i get.” you look down at your hands. “besides, you stopped sending them, so i figured… i don’t know what i figured.”

a beat of silence follows in which you regret what you said. you didn’t mean to sound so needy.

“the only reason why i stopped was because i knew i’d see you today and i wanted to see your reaction.” jake’s voice is sincere and reassuring. “i saved so many for you, d’you want to see?”

ignoring how your heart flutters uncontrollably, you bite your lip to keep from smiling too much like an idiot. his eyes drift down, lingering there before he blinks rapidly, giving you a lopsided smile and opening the app again to a collection on tiktok that was named after you. no need to overthink that one, right? right.

madonna’s 'like a prayer' gets dramatically louder with each slide and you’re fully immersed, laughing at jake’s commentary and anticipating how it could possibly end when he suddenly stops swiping although there was only one sentence to read, and you’d be mildly offended if he believed you to be that slow of a reader. quizzically, you look at him only to find his eyes already on you. the effect is diabolical.

he’s really just smiling at you—something he’s done a million times even though you wish he hadn’t because you are so sure you could get drunk on it—but this one is painfully gentle and inviting. as if you had just told him you save baby animals in your free time and this was his secret show of tender gratitude. it’s all very confusing.

“you’re so pretty,” says jake, quietly as though it wasn’t even meant for your ears to hear.

his eyes hold so much softness and plain adoration—yes, adoration. even you can see that clear as day—that you immediately feel your mouth go dry and your chest squeeze around your heart. because what is happening right now? jay was right. you are, in fact, not ready to face the truth.

it is ni-ki who has you both crashing back to earth with the call of jake’s name. you tear your eyes away and blink at your lap.

“jay asked if you have anything planned next week.”

still out of it, he glances at you for some reason before settling his puzzled gaze on jay. “we have schedules every day next week, bro. we looked at it earlier in the car. you were there.”

“oh, i know.” jay grins and slides his eyes to you, mischief glinting in them. “so whatever it is you want to do, you should probably do it now. if you’re going to do it anyway.”

it’s like the entire room falls silent, prompting you to eye them suspiciously. “okay,” says jake slowly, clearly not getting the hint. you’re not sure you get it either.

“god,” you hear sunoo mutter under his breath, making ni-ki snort.

“i know,” jungwon sighs. “they’re idiots.”

[ang3lc]

hello 🫶🏻 I love your fics!! I have an idea, there's this prank on tiktok, where you put more on your partner's plate and very little food on your plate (even though there is more in the kitchen, you tell them that's all that was left). It would be nice to read his reaction to this prank. Thank you!

everytime i think of domestic!john i think of joe graves and then my legs start shaking 😕

cw: none

john settles into his chair, his usual end-of-day silence filling the room as you place his plate in front of him. it’s piled high—more food than he could possibly finish—and for a second, he just stares at it.

you set your own plate down next, and his eyes flick to it immediately. barely anything, just a few bites arranged neatly on the plate.

he doesn’t say anything at first, just picks up his fork and glances between the plates. then he exhales, low and sharp. "what’s this?"

"dinner," you say, as casually as you can, taking a tiny bite.

he gestures with his fork to both of your plates. "this is all there is?"

"yep," you say, nodding.

he doesn’t look convinced, his eyes narrowing slightly. "and you thought i needed enough to feed me and my men twice over, while you’ve got… that?"

you shrug, avoiding his gaze. "you’ve been working all day. figured you could use the extra."

he sets the fork down and leans back, arms crossing over his chest. "right." there’s a long pause as he watches you, his expression unreadable, and you have to fight to keep a straight face.

then he sighs, getting to his feet without a word.

"where are you going?" you ask, trying to sound surprised.

"kitchen."

"john, seriously, that’s all there is."

he doesn’t even look back. "mm-hm."

you sit there, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, as you hear him open the fridge. a beat passes before his voice cuts through the quiet.

"so this is all there is, yeah?"

when he comes back, holding the container of food you tried to hide, he sets it down on the table without a word, his expression flat.

you can’t hold back your laughter anymore, and he just shakes his head, sitting back down.

"you’re an idiot," he says, but there’s the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pushes some of the food from his plate onto yours. "eat."

"you’re lucky you’re cute," he mutters when you beam at him, then sitting back down. but there’s a softness in his voice, and that little smile tugging at his lips gives him away.

mlist

[hiraethwa]

purposefully

for ellie @nekozaki <3, hope you enjoy it! i took some liberations with your wishes (part of the hq x reader secret santa exchange by @lale-txt) pairing: miya atsumu x reader cw: hurt/comfort, cursing, atsumu is careless with your feelings, mutual pining, confession wc: 2k

miya atsumu, starting setter of the star-studded msby black jackals lineup, is gifted with looks and charms of a god, graced with sculpted features and a chiseled jawline, his body honed through years of training and experience. 

you don’t doubt for a second that his physique is what draws men and women to him alike, and to be fair, he could be so unbelievably charming when he wants to be. but when it comes to you, his dear roommate, he is so damn infuriating, driving you up the wall with every little thing he does. 

there’s always a clever quip from atsumu awaiting you, as if he could not bear not having the last word, or a teasing remark when you do anything nice for him, a “did you fall in love with me?” or “your loverboy would be jealous if he knows about this” that you have learnt to ignore, not giving him the satisfaction of your reaction. 

every time it irks you, hanging him out to dry for the next day or two, until your forgetfulness comes creeping in, and the vicious cycle repeats itself all over again. 

if you had a choice, you would not have moved in with him to start with, but you were in a rough financial situation, and osamu had offered you a solution—cheap rent and nice apartment with a catch—having his annoying twin brother as a housemate.

you had taken it, since it was miles better than moving to a rundown apartment with a shoddy heating system and questionable neighbors. 

atsumu had been nice and courteous in the beginning, helping osamu move you into the apartment and making sure you had everything you needed to feel at home, to the point where you were confused as to what osamu meant when he called his brother an insufferable idiot. 

it had gone swimmingly, with the two of you getting along almost scarily well as housemates, leaving osamu in disbelief when he shows up at your apartment unannounced to find you two huddled together in front of the tv watching horror films when you both hated them. 

he finds you making dinner in the kitchen the second time with atsumu obediently following your orders, and finds it hilarious that he is trying so hard to comply with your instructions when his twin is a hopeless mess when it comes to cooking. osamu bursts out laughing, and atsumu ending up chasing his twin who is dying of laughter in circles until you snap at them both.

the third time he stumbles into the apartment with extra food he ended up making, only to witness you argue with atsumu whether your coworker was flirting with you, an unreadable expression on his twin’s face. osamu just interrupts the argument with a knowing smile, peace offering held up in his hand.

that was one of the last times you hung out with atsumu, before something in him changed, as if a switch had flipped in him, taking the miya atsumu you knew and fell for away, leaving you with a cocky and provocative atsumu—the one that osamu had tried to warn you about.

it was a hell of an adjustment, getting used to this current atsumu who returned to serial dating and bringing his dates back to the apartment with its thin walls, awkwardly interacting with the ones who wander into the kitchen in his clothes in the morning, the sight of them torturing you more than the sounds at night did, reminding you of a time when it was you in his hoodies and sweaters.  

worst of all, atsumu did not seem like he felt bad in the slightest about bringing his various one night stands home, not failing to greet you every day with his charming lopsided smile and a ‘morning, sweetheart’, which had grown to be maddening.

there wasn’t any sign of things between you going south, the friendship you had formed with him going down the drain. you didn’t understand it, whatever made him change so drastically without any warning, and it drives you insane.

because miya atsumu is insufferable, and you just happen to be hopelessly in love with him.

because there was a time when you were close, with inside jokes that even osamu was not apart of, late night talks at 2am about your hopes and dreams and everything in between, not so secret glances thrown between you. a time when you believed for a moment that atsumu, despite his well known playboy persona, might have felt the same way towards you.

because in those short months when everything went right, you had truly seen miya atsumu, beheld him in all of his fame and glory, that facade of swagger and charm, and past it to see the sweet man underneath. 

but atsumu has always had a short temper, and the same holds true tonight, as the brawl unfolds before your eyes in slow motion. his arm unfurls, muscles rippling with force as his fist makes impact with the other man’s cheek, sending him backwards into the crowd. 

he grabs ahold of the man’s collar, barely restrained anger fueling his punches into his face, leaving it a bloody mess.

“miya!” the shrill scream that leaves your lips is unrecognizable, as your body moves on its own, struggling to hold his arm back with everything you have. osamu jumps into the fray, forcefully separating the two of them. 

this is bad. it looks bad, especially on atsumu’s part, as if he had assaulted the poor guy without reason. 

“get atsumu out of here, we will deal with the rest,” osamu tells you, and you could only nod, wide-eyed and in shock at the events that just unfolded. 

thankfully, atsumu does not protest as you tug him away from the crowd, escaping the club and returning to the comfort of your home. 

he barely registers the change in scenery from the dimly lit club to the bright city lights illuminating your way home, eyes focused on you, all determined and purposeful, your hand wrapped tight around his, as if you were afraid that you might lose him in the christmas crowd. 

he wonders if you knew the reason he had lost his temper back there, if you heard the unsavory words that the guy said about you.

the dull throb in his right knuckles goes ignored as he allows you to pull him along, into the train station, onto the line that brings you home, just a mere twenty minute ride from here. 

he does not speak, afraid of breaking the fragile silence, a temporary unspoken truce. 

the buildings fly by outside the train as you rest your head against the glass, staring out into the distance. the lump in his throat stays with him, involuntarily and fully aware of where your skin still touches his skin, the contact searing hot against his wrist. 

he swallows, wishing to run away and stay here with you forever, all at the same time. 

you drag him onwards, out of the train, out into the fresh air of the cool night, the skies stretching above you, reminiscent of the feeling within him that expands and expands with no end in sight, that spiraled out of his control, scaring him to death. 

love. it scares him. the relatively unfamiliar concept of caring about someone out of choice, unlike his brotherly love for osamu that was forged on the basis of familial ties, or his love towards his parents ever since he could remember.

you scare him—the worry in your dark eyes as you notice the split skin on his knuckles, scolding him for his rashness, pulling the first aid kit out. the tenderness in your hands as you carefully dab antiseptic ointment on the raw skin with a cotton ball, asking him if it hurts.

why, why do you bother?

the words die in his throat as he feels a prickling sensation behind his eyes. he shakes his head at your question, hoping to blink the feeling away, before the tears well up.

why do you still bother, after how awful he is to you?

but then you pull away, leaving him cold without your touch on his skin, shooting him a small smile and asking if he wanted a snack.

“why do you still bother? you don’t have to be nice to me just because we live together.”

you sigh, a loud exhale through your nostrils, seemingly frustrated with him. “it’s on purpose, you know.”

“what?” he does not understand.

“i’m loving you on purpose.” your hands pause on the cabinets, hesitating on the next words spilling out of your mouth, words that have long smoldered within you. “maybe one day i will stop falling in love with you, but my heart is stubbornly yours tonight.”

silence stretches in the space between you. your traitorous eyes flit over to the blonde whose mouth is agape, staring back at you in surprise and disbelief. 

you chuckle nervously. “what, cat got your smartass tongue? don’t tell me you didn’t see it coming, i thought i was being obvious enough despite my efforts to hide it”

atsumu still appears to be speechless so you forge on, emboldened by how good it feels to get this off your chest after holding it in for so long. 

“i know you don’t feel the same way, so don’t worry about it. i am working on getting over you, i just– i haven’t found a way yet, and my heart still clings on to the atsumu that i fell in love with in the beginning.”

the stubborn thing refuses to let go of the atsumu that you had the privilege of knowing.

“then don’t.” it stutters in your ribcage, confused by his words, his admittance. “because i am a stupid fool, and i–i love you too.”

“it’s not funny, if you are trying to mess with me.” you beg for your heart to still, for hope to delay its flight—you are not sure if you would be able to recover this time if he is fooling around. 

“i am not– fuck. i messed up. i have been a terrible person, sleeping around to try and get over my feelings for you but it’s no excuse.” atsumu kneels before you, sincerity shining in his warm chocolate eyes, offering you the truth, admitting his mistakes. “when i realized that i am in love with you, it scared the shit out of me. i have never felt such immense feelings towards another person in my life before, and so i ran away.”

“i fucked up and i am sorry, but if you will allow it, i will make it up to you, please. just one chance, i will never make you doubt my love for you ever again.”

his touch burns, sets you on fire, as you get on your knees before him, holding his hands tight, as your heart soars, despite the hurt that he inflicted on you unknowingly. “one chance, that’s all you get.”

his lips spread into a large grin as he tackles you to the ground in a hug, mischief dancing in his eyes as he leans down, lips ghosting over your skin. “does that mean i can finally do this–”

you beat him to the kiss, pulling on his neck and joining your lips before he could finish his sentence. you smile into it, feeling satisfaction from his surprise and even more when he breaks away in incredulity.

“that’s a yes, by the way.” you chortle from your rare successful attempt of shutting atsumu up. he only makes a noise of protest before he reels you back in for another kiss. 

[floral-cavern]

So.. Sarcastic Chorus has retired from doing Helluvaverse content. This is a huge blow to the series. If you somehow don’t know, Sarcastic Chorus is the Helluvaverse YouTuber. He’s done so many analysis videos, it’s kind of part of his brand in the same way FNAF is associated with MatPat. The fact that Chorus left the shows is crazy, but, honestly, it’s just a testament to how bad this show has been getting.

This is the view count for the first three episodes for seasons 1 and 2

And if you think that’s bad, look at the difference between the season finales for each season

(I know technically Ozzie’s isn’t the season finale, but Queen Bee doesn’t count because of how long it took to come out)

People are tired of the show focusing on the wrong things. I seriously recommend Chorus’s video, it has so many good points. And one point I really want to talk about is Stolas.

I talk a lot about the bad writing in the show in general and how I don’t like Stolas, but I just want to say, I don’t like him anymore. I used to really like his character.. but season 2 completely ruined him for me because they refuse to acknowledge that he has any flaws. Rather than tell “we know Stolitz has flaws on both sides of the relationship, both will work on that,” instead, it’s all just Blitzo. They’ve spent 3 whole episodes just shitting on Blitzo, when… where’s that same treatment for Stolas? Stolas is a classist, racist, rapist. But the show seems to just… forget this. They’re backpedaling so hard, I'm surprised they haven’t fallen off the bike.

I used to find Stolas an interesting character and I was so excited to see where they would take his flaws and mistakes. Like, think about it. Stolas is completely naive, having been sheltered his whole life. The only concept for genuine intimacy he has comes from erotica. Of course he’s going to have a skewed idea of what sex is like when the only sex he’s ever had is with Stella, who, and I quote, “just lays there staring at the wall” where Stella has to do all the work. Ya… that is fucked and a form of sexual abuse, just like what Stolas does to Blitzo. So, I was interested to see where they would take this cycle of abuse that Stolas is so accustomed to and how they were going to have him break it. How was Stolas going to learn his idea of intimacy is wrong?

Well… he doesn’t. Not really. He does realize this transaction is wrong, but, when he tells this all to Blitzo and when Blitzo doesn’t have the reaction he wants, Stolas throws a fucking tantrum. He walks away and refuses to let Blitzo speak, he denies having ever done anything wrong, says that Blitzo was the one who always makes things about sex when that is NOT TRUE. And the worst part? The show treats Stolas like he’s right. They never do anything to show us that Stolas is a hypocrite, instead, like I said earlier, only punishing Blitzo. And don’t even pull the “he was banished” card! Stolas was not being punished for being a neglectful father, or for being an abusive partner. He was being punished… for a heroic sacrifice. He was being banished because Andre doesn’t like him and everyone is mean to Stolas so we have to feel so bad for him, guys!

I just… I started to have my doubts for the show around Full Moon, but I wanted to stick with the show. I liked Apology Tour, but did find it a bit weird that Stolas was being woobied, but I just assumed it was because the next episode, Stolas would be the one receiving the punishing. But the next episode.. WAS ANOTHER HATE ON BLITZO EPISODE. So I told myself, boy I told myself, that the next episode will be focusing on Stolas’s flaws, on Stolas’s part on why this relationship didn’t work. AND THEY DIDN’T FUCKING DO THAT STILL. In fact, Mastermind was just full of Stolas unnecessarily insulting Blitzo, calling him an idiot and whatnot. Like.. GIVE THIS GUY A BREAK, HOLY FUCK. WE GET IT.

This show has gotten so fucking infuriating. Good on Chorus for leaving. Me, personally? I’m going to keep watching, out of curiosity and because I hate myself, but if the show gets anymore infuriating, I may just leave. Because this show is so non-self aware with its black and white writing while it tries so damn hard to have a moral high horse.

So, actually, no. Not ‘fuck Stolas’. Fuck the writers for being so blind to the kinds of behaviors they are endorsing and encouraging with him.

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Cereal

Bucky Barnes x Single Mom! Reader

The Boy looks upon the many shelves of cereal. Some are bland, some are sugary, and others are healthy. Some have cartoon characters on the box, and many have real-life heroes. With all these heroes, he still couldn't find his. The boy sighed, his lips quivering. He wipes his eyes before his tears even begin to slip.

"Honey?" his mother called for him.

"He's not here," His voice shakes and tears spilling over.

"What do you mean?" she asked as she gently moved him to the side out of the way of after customers.

"H-he doesn't have o-one." He points to the shelves as he begins to cry. She tucks his face into her stomach as she takes a look at the shelves for herself. And her boy was right, his hero was not amongst those on the shelve.

"I'm sorry," she tried to rub his back, providing some comfort. " We'll look at different stores. Don't worry."

"No," he cried. This was the third store in a week, and they still hadn't found it. He was tired, and he knew they weren't going to find it. Frustratedly, he snatched off his prosthetic arm and tossed it down the aisle. ( Moments like this made her grateful she bought plastic).

"Absolutely not. We don't throw things." The round of gasps and how quickly the aisle emptied told her all she needed to know. They would not be making any purchases here today.

Wiping his tears, she stood up to retrieve the arm, only to find a man holding it.

"Excuse me, that's my son's." He was a tall, big man in a baseball cap, thick coat, and leather gloves. And in those gloved hands was her son's prosthetic.

He hands it to her, and she gives him a small thanks.

"How'd he lose it? If- If you don't mind me asking?"

She took a deep breath. This was going to go one of two ways. The educational route and she'd possibly teach this man something new or bashing route, and this man would get disrespectful, and she'd probably have to call security or the police.

"He didn't lose it. He was born without." She moved to her son, tucking him into her side. His cries had stopped, but his tears were still streaming.

"I ....there was an accident and lost mine." The man said, massaging his left hand. She didn't understand why he was telling them this. But she did appreciate him sharing a piece of him. " Why is he crying?"

"He has a favorite hero. He's like him, and we were trying to find his cereal or his snack or... just anything with him on it. We can't seem to find him anywhere."

"May I?" the man asked, motioning to her son, asking permission to approach him. She granted it and watched as he kneeled in front of her son, who was still tucked into her side. His tears had dried, and he seemed to be in ...awe?

It wasn't until the man removed his gloves, then cap, that she realized who he was, and she felt like an idiot. She had been researching this man with every free moment she had ever since her son declared him to be his favorite and just like him. And she couldn't tell the difference between him on stage and him in a baseball cap.

Embarrassing.

"Hi, my name is Bucky, what's yours?"

Her son whispered his name as he blushed. " That's a cool arm you got their bud."

"I have another one that's cooler. It has space on it," he said as his mother kneeled, putting it back on his elbow.

"That does sound cooler. Mine doesn't really have anything on it." Bucky said, pulling up his sleeve to show off his metal appendage. The son gasped in amazement as he stepped forward, his little fingers reaching and tracing the gold and black plates. The man watched him carefully as he touched and stayed very still.

She would have corrected her son's rude behavior any other time, but right now, with the awe on his face and the smile on Mr. Barnes's face, she didn't want to interrupt. Plus, she was as in awe as the fluorescent lights made it shine—both the arm and his smile.

"A friend made it for me. It's made of a special metal called vibranum."

"Like your friend's shield?" He whispered as he pulled away.

"Exactly," he whispered in return as he stood up. She stood up as well.

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes. That was very kind of you, and we really appreciate it."

Bucky is fine, Mrs?" he said.

"(Y/n), (Y/n) (L/n). No, Mrs. No husband," she regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. But that didn't shut her up. " There is no one else. Just me. Just us."

Bucky gave a soft smile and nodded. " I'm sorry to hear that." He didn't look or sound sorry. "Listen, Um, I volunteer at this rehab for kids, and they have a lot of programs there, so if your son wanted, he could come join." Bucky pulled out a flyer from his pocket, unfolded it, and handed it over to her. It looked to be a place for physically disabled children.

"This looks nice, actually. Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem. My number is on the back if you need any help with the program or stuff. or just ... Want to hang out ." Bucky cringed on how that came, but she just smiled and laughed. She turned the flyer over to see his number was indeed on the back.

"Oh"

"Hopefully, I'll see you two there."

"Definitely, I mean, yes. We'll be there, won't we, buddy."

"Will you be there?" The boy asked.

"As long as the world doesn't need saving, I'm there every other afternoon."

"Hopefully, the world doesn't need saving when we come by." she teased.

"Even if it did, I'm sure the others could handle it on their own. I wouldn't leave a doll like you waiting."

Doll.

Doll. She didn't know how, but with a single word, the man nearly put her on her knees. Suddenly, her heart had quickened, and her legs were shaky. And the way he bit his lips after and looked her up and down. Was he trying to devour her with such a stare? When did the atmosphere change?

A little squeak brought them both back to reality and reminded them of their little audience. No flirting in front of the babies.

"We'll be there, Mr. B...Bucky. We'll be there." Taking her son's hand, she turned to leave before stopping and saying, " I'll call."

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Bye-bye," the boy waved to his hero with a big grin on his face. As he watched them walk away. His cereal crisis was long forgotten.

[heartmix]

Kisses - CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Word Count: 1k+

Warning: charles being jealous of Leo, kissing

A/N: wrote this after irritating my dog with a bunch of kisses. He loves it

F1 Masterlist / Masterlist

Not one moment did Charles regret getting Leo. He was the best thing to happen to the both of you. The dog kept you both on your toes and gave a lot of love, balancing a mix between chaos and affection. He didn't know what life was before Leo. He couldn't have asked for a better dog. 

The only thing was, the dog was too damn spoiled. Sure he spoiled the dog just as much as you, buying him the best food, giving him any toy he wanted, and he had free reign around the house. But you gave Leo what he truly wanted, all your attention. From the moment you both got him, he was stuck to you like glue. He only wanted Charles if he was at the track or to take him to use the bathroom. It's like the dog knew how much of a hassle it was to clean up his mess so he left that for Charles to worry about. 

You took Leo everywhere you went and he enjoyed every second of it. You wanted to go to the cafe? Leo would love to go on a walk. You had to travel for work? Sure Leo always wanted to see Paris and chase the birds. You needed to use the bathroom? Who else was going to keep you company? He didn't see dad rush up to follow you so he had to be that person (dog) for you. 

In return, he was rewarded with a bunch of scratches and kisses. You couldn't help it. He was so dang cute and soft. Kissing his fur was like kissing clouds. Leo ate up those kisses every time. He stared at you each time waiting for you to press a kiss to his head. It didn't matter if you were wearing lip gloss he would happily stroll the house wearing the lip marks with pride. 

This irritated Charles, to say the least. He wasn't jealous of the dog for getting a million kisses in one sitting while he barely managed to get one. No, he wasn't jealous that your priority was to show attention to Leo first. No, he wasn't jealous that Leo could wake you up at any hour and be met with a smile, compared to if he did it, the action would be a pillow thrown at his head.  

"Why are you giving your dog a death glare?" The voice of Arthur broke Charles out of his thoughts. 

"I'm not glaring at Leo." He grumbled. 

"So you're glaring at your girl? That's new." There was a hint of teasing tone in Arthur's voice like he knew why his brother was being a grump. You were sat on the other side of hospitality with Leo in your arms. The dog was as hyper as ever while you laughed at his antics and gave him a kiss what seemed every minute to Charles. In reality, you gave him two kisses since you've sat down. 

"I'm not glaring at anyone." 

"Sure you aren't buddy." He patted his brother on the back before making his way over to you and Leo. Charles watched the interaction with a close eye. He knew his brother was up to something. Not a second later you looked over at Charles with a knowing smirk making the driver look anywhere but in your direction. 

What he didn't see was Arthur taking Leo for a walk while you made your way to sit on the arm of the chair Charles was sitting on. It was only when he felt you beside him he decided to look at you. That same smirk was still plastered on your face making him groan. 

"So, grumpy pants, you have me all to yourself till Arthur and Leo come back." You hummed reaching out to his hair to massage his scalp. His weakness. You were good. 

"I am not grumpy, I don't know what my idiot of a brother told you." It was taking everything in Charles not to confess right then and there. The way you were working your hands on his scalp, he wanted to give in any second. 

"You're not? Hmmh. I was going to kiss it better." The teasing tone in your voice didn't register with Charles. If he was truly paying attention he would know you were doing this to confess and it worked. 

"I am grumpy. Kiss it better." He smiled up at you like a little kid waiting for his reward, or more like Leo waiting for a kiss when he accompanied you to the bathroom to keep you company. 

"First you need to tell me why you're grumpy." 

Was he about to confess his jealousy for the dog he wanted and brought just for some kisses? If it was the only way to be smothered in kisses so be it. "You give more kisses to Leo than you do me." 

"Awee my baby, you're jealous!" 

"And so what! The dog gets a million kisses a day while I'm lucky to get two." He pouted at this which caused a hearty laugh to come out of you. If only his fans could see Charles now. 

"Have I been neglecting you?" 

"Big time." 

"Well, I'm sorry. Will this make it up?" You asked as you placed a kiss first on his forehead, each cheek, his nose, and neck. The feeling and attention made his cheeks heat up and no doubt he was blushing. He was waiting for the grand finale but it never came. 

"You missed a spot." He puckered his lips up to you making another laugh emerge from your throat as you leaned down to kiss it the passionate kiss you knew he was missing. Charles couldn't help but smile into the kiss as he held to back of your head to deepen it even further. 

"Better?" You asked after letting go to come up for air. One look at his blissed out expression you knew the answer. 

"Very much so." 

"Tell me next time when you're feeling jealous of your own dog. I'll kiss it better." 

"I'm still jealous." 

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Stay with me." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

@fluffy-dixon: I have a request for you ❤️ The reader is afraid of the dark, genuinely terrified but has learnt how to deal with it somewhat but something switches and they borderline have a melt down about it and Daryl is the one that finds out. Take it where you want, I know I'll love it but I thought it was a cool idea.

A/N: Hi, love! Thank you sooo much for your request. It was so fun to write so I really hope you like it. I changed it a little bit and added Merle being a good brother-in-law haha while being an idiot too. There is something hot about Daryl as your husband so here it is!

You are laying down sideways on the bed inside your cell, the warm colors of the candle flame on the small table fluttering softly on a silent night. The light fights against the darkness, wrapping you in a pleasant warmth. But when old terrors try to loom over you like the shadows in the small room, you try to focus on the small fire: every night as the sun comes down, you try to convince yourself that everything would be fine, but there are sometimes when your fears make you feel blind, like being trapped in a windowless world, drowning you in the absolute darkness.

However, in the midst of the infinite night, the door opens and closes, and his strong but serene presence comes in with him.

“Can’t sleep yet?” Daryl’s voice is a low and hoarse whisper as he takes off his vest and his shirt, kicking his boots off next to lay on the bed next to you, using his right arm as a pillow, the other one finding the soft skin beneath your t-shirt. “Somethin’ wrong, sweetheart?”

He is around all the time, but you learned to heal your own wounds just so as not worry him.

“It’s nothing. I just can’t sleep.”

Daryl looks at you with his usual calm expression, but you can feel him getting worried behind his gaze.

“Ya sure? Ya can tell me.”

His unnecessary concern makes you smile a little, because behind his tough personality, it is hiding the man who always talk soft to you, who tries to protect you even from a simple nightmare. Some things are impossible for him to control, but for things he can, Daryl was always there for you.

But when your right hand makes contact with his cheek, so soft and intimate, it makes him lean to your touch.

“You are such a sweetheart.” You tease, making Daryl growl low in disagreement, but he uses his own hand to keep yours on his cheek, loving how warm it feels.

Daryl didn’t know how to be the man who gave flowers and chocolates; he never was that kind of man, but he was always a loving husband in his own way.

“I ain’t a sweetheart, peach…” His parted lips capture your wrist, in a hot way as he goes down a little bit, kissing your skin using his hot tongue. You find yourself licking your own lip, looking at him as he finishes his little game. “But I do love ya so fuckin’ much.”

You chuckle looking at his playful eyes as he comes closer to you, kissing you in the same way he kissed your hand. Being married to him was not a romantic novel, but it was kind of perfect, in its own little way.

However, the complete darkness in that abandoned house makes you walk blindly. The run that had to be simple had gone wrong. But like a never-ending tale of terror, you walk and walk without reaching the exit, without being able to walk into the light you can’t see.

Suddenly, the tears on your face are burning your skin when you wake up, and your worst fear catches you like a cage. Your hands cover your face because you don’t want to see the abyss that darkness leaves, although it is not really there because of the light from the endless flame of the big and thick candle.

After a moment, you can finally hear Daryl’s voice.

“Hey. S’okay, sweetheart…” Using his elbow as a support, Daryl keeps repeating that everything is fine as he strokes your belly under the blanket, giving you the time to calm down. “It was jus’ a nightmare. Okay?”

It feels like you are drowning, but you use your hands to wipe your tears away, and when you drop your arms, Daryl uses his thumb to gently slide it over your skin one last time to make sure there are no more trace of sadness in you.

“It ain’t matter what it is, peach, it ain’t real.”

You lay down sideways, closing your eyes.

“It felt real.”

Laying back down, Daryl slips his arm around your body as he strokes your back.

“Wanna tell me?”

Putting that fear you think you were overcoming in his head isn't a good idea.

“You don’t need to hear it. It’s nothing really.”

Daryl nods, not wanting to push you to talk when you are not ready, so he just holds you tight, resting his forehead against yours.

“Okay. But I’m right here with ya in case ya need anythin’. I won’t leave ya. Ya heard me?”

“Yes. Thank you.” You say softly, and Daryl smiles slightly even through his own concern.

“That’s ma girl.”

But come on, marriages are not perfect.

The moment Daryl enters the prison that night; you stay behind just for a short moment before sinking into the solitude of your cell. The world is so big in the outside, but it feels so little on the inside, almost suffocating, like a hand around your throat. However, when you take the first step into the prison’s dining room, the image in front of you is like a new way of breathtaking. It is not the first time Daryl holds baby Judith, but it is the first time he actually feeds her as some people of the group gathers around. And he is all smiley, loving the idea of having a baby even when in the beginning he was not founding to the idea of having kids.

But when you see Merle smirking from the other door, the one that connects the dining room to the cell blocks, you want to punch his stupid face as you walk pass him.

“Are yer ovaries startin’ to itch for a baby, honey?” He chuckles, following you to your cell.

“Fuck you, asshole.”

“Hey, ya kiss ma baby brother with that mouth?” He laughs. You have a love-hate relationship with your brother in law: he was an asshole in the old world, an asshole in the new one as well, but when his hand holds yours to stop you, you can see his worried expression when you turn around, even though you were actually ready to punch him. “Ya okay, darlin’? I was jus’ messin’ with ya. Ya know it, right?”

You sigh.

“Yeah… I know. And I’m okay, thank you.”

It is the same old lie you told everyone. But they asked if you were okay because they were kind, or because they really wanted to hear the long monologue of the no, I’m not okay?

“Ya ain’t lookin’ okay. Somethin’ happened with ma idiot brother?”

“Actually… I always thought you were the idiot in that weird relationship you two had, but hey… what do I know, right?” You chuckle, making him roll his eyes. “We are okay… or something like that, it’s just…”

You look away for a moment, and he breathes out a little laugh, but his blue eyes keep looking at you as he discovers the truth in your shy gaze.

“Shit. S’happenin’ again.”

You gulp, looking back at him.

“I don’t get it.”

Merle sighs, but that condescending expression he always used with everyone turns into a soft one he only had with you.

“That thing ya have with darkness.”

“I…” Merle was the only one who knew about that, but it only happened because during the weeks that Daryl spent working nights and you slept with the lamp on, he accused you of wasting electricity in the apartment you all lived, even when it was you and Daryl who actually paid the bills. Merle was an asshole 99% of the time, but he also was the person who told you that you should tell your husband about it, although you lied telling him Daryl already knew about that. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, you jerk.”

You turn, heading towards your cell, missing out the way Merle shakes his head before he starts walking towards the patio. The once quiet night now fills with the heavy growls of walkers on the other side of the fence, but he ignores them as Merle sits next to his brother at that old desk.

Daryl is smoking, without paying attention to Merle until he speaks.

“I can see ya’re being a son of a bitch again while yer wife is being a pain in the ass.”

Daryl frowns, not understanding the reference.

“What the fuck are ya talkin’ ‘bout?”

Merle chuckles.

“S’a quote from that stupid and girly movie (Y/N) made us watch once. The school book or some shit like that.”

“It was the notebook, ya dickhead.”

Merle laughs with sarcasm.

“S’the same shit.”

"Ummh." Daryl lets out smoke from his cigar before speaking again. “We’re fine, we jus’ had a small fight.”

Merle nods, thoughtful.

“’bout what? Ya started talkin’ shit again and she was ‘bout to kick yer sorry ass?”

Daryl looks away for a moment, internally debating whether sharing his thoughts with his brother is the right thing to do.

“S’not of yer business.”

Merle rolls his eyes, hating that Daryl and you are acting like assholes. Funny, isn’t it?

“Suit yerself. I’ll leave alone so ya can share yer fears to the moon like a damn baby.” He laughs, but then, Merle stops, realizing something. “Ya got more candles for (Y/N). Right?”

Daryl frowns, again.

“What?”

“Yeah. We ran out of ‘em and I see that she's become afraid of the dark again.”

Daryl is speechless for a moment.

“What do ya mean again?”

“Shit. (Y/N) told me ya knew.” Merle clears his throat, but now that your secret had been exposed because of him, he already could hear the insults coming. “She’s afraid of the dark, brother, terrified ‘cause the son of a bitch of her dad used to punish her with it when she was a child. She has been fine for years but it seems like her trauma kicks in every now and then.”

In a second that feels eternal for Daryl, he leaves his brother behind as he runs inside the prison, dropping the cigar, cursing under his breath for not know it sooner. He was angry because you never told him that, but in his way there, he tries to understand your reasons when he had his own demons hiding in the shadows. The difference was that Daryl was no longer afraid of the shadows since he met you.

But the moment he finds you sitting on the floor, knees against your chest and your hands covering your eyes, Daryl can hear your rapid and heavy breathing.

“Peach, hey, I’m here, sweetheart.” He sits on the floor too, taking you in his arms. “S’okay, ya’re okay.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay… I just need a minute. I promise.” You say, soft but unsecure words you try to hear to convince yourself you are going to be fine. One of his hands holds your head against his chest, but his heart is beating so fast and so loud you can hear it clearly. “You’re fine, Daryl, you’re fine, I promise.”

And amidst the turbulent fears he harbors, Daryl finds the strength to chuckle, a somewhat incredulous little laugh as he attempts to meet your gaze.

“Ya’re really worry ‘bout me right now?” He rests his forehead against yours, again, breathing fast because the mere thought of seeing you in pain made him feel like a scared child. But Daryl is trying not to love that much the way you always worry about him. “I think I was a fuckin' saint in other life to have found ya in this one, ma love. I really am one lucky bastard.”

Daryl always had pet names for you, but that was the first time he called you my love, and it was so funny and sweet that it makes you smile a little bit through your tears.

“Ya’re holdin’ a lot inside of ya, sweetheart, but ya can always lean on me. We got this, okay?”

You nod softly, because that is the first time when the word we don’t feel like you are bringing someone else down with you, and there, you want to believe, to trust that life wouldn’t look so dark from now on.

[l0v3r666]

Mc inserts x TWST characters pt.2

(non-yuu pairings that fit into the plot of twst, if you like this then you might want to look at the first part!)

Savanclaw!Mc x Cater Diamond

Enemies to lovers with your favourite diva!! The two of you compete constantly through magicam and spelldrive, getting progressively pettier until the only solution is to kiss it out.. You’re trying to keep an ear out for your junior, and it just so happens Cater’s sniffing out your plan to go for gold in this year’s tournament. You might as well take the chance to mess with him! It’s so easy to love the face he makes when you give him the slip, and you’re totally making it your wallpaper when this is all over.

“Yo, Babe! If you’re in the same dorm, then you know Ruggie, yeah? We need to have a chat”

“Ohmigod you totally think all beastmen know each other, don’t you?? cancled :)”

Shroud!Mc x Vil Schoenheit

Ids attached himself to engineering and gaming pretty early, but your passion is fully unattainable. You’d clung onto pop idols and the art of stage makeup from an early age. Your longest running interest by far is Vil Schoenheit,, He rescued you from destructive habits and encouraged you to value self improvement. You’ve probably invested millions into his career (every thaumark sent anonymously, you’d die if he started to recognize your attached messages). Supporting Ortho in his SDC audition is your official reason to talk with him, and all the teasing from Idia will be so worth it when your Schoenheit debut palette gets signed! You’ve kept it in mint condition behind glass for years admiring it- and waiting for THE day.

“Mr. Schoenheit? My younger brother performed for you today, and uh, your signature please?”

“Normally I’d send both of you home for this. I’m sure you’re well aware of my paparazzi policy, However, I haven’t seen this particular relic in years! Just what have you done to preserve the quality?”

Pomefiore!Mc x Ruggie Bucchi

You’re #1 in the business of pissing off your parents- shopping copious amounts and then going to school across the country satiated you for awhile, but they’ve done something particularly revenge worthy now. The best scandal you can think of is getting a trashy boytoy to bring home for the break, but you’re not really into idiots.. Ruggie can be a very good actor given the right motivations, and he might even fool you into a real relationship before next semester.

“C’mon it’s not like I’ll need a script, sugar. I’m a natural, scout’s honor!”

“Either way, it won’t hurt to rehearse for convenience :/ Kiss me now so we don’t look stupid later.”

Scarabia!Mc x Floyd leech

God you hate that fish faced idiot >:( It’s bad enough that the housewarden’s moodswings guaranteed your holiday plans were all shot, but now Jamil’s getting hounded by the mafia! It’s your responsibility to get them off his back, but it’s not like you’re enjoying it. Somehow it’s even worse to watch Floyd when he’s playing dumb, and his emotional roller coaster keeps you walking on eggshells. The show must go on though, and if you’ve gotta play “wrestle until the biting stops” then you’ll do it :/

“Floyd, it’s dinner time, and I will tear you a new one if it means you’ll get moving.”

“PLEASEEEE tiger sharky just one more round :( I’ll even give your pen back!!”

Octavinelle!Mc x Kalim Al-Asim

You’re probably one of the most talkative of octavinelle students, and definitely a solid salesman. Kalim’s a prime target for resales and marketing practice, so naturally you join the pop music club. A year of “playing nice for the jackpot” leads you to lie awake at night, terrified that he’ll see through your facade and ditch you- it would cut off your best friendship, you’d be forced to leave the club! At some point you realize you’d stopped selling him things months ago, and your worst nightmare happened right under your nose. You fell in love.

“Hey, that solo was so inspiring! You’re really making progress!”

“It still isn’t on par with yours, though. Are you available to keep practicing after school? I’m sure Jamil would appreciate the break, and I would enjoy the company..”

Staff!Mc x Lilia Vanrouge

Of course your first job would come with some pet bat, it was too good to be true :( Full time at a bits and bobs shop near one of the best schools in the country WITH flexible hours? You must’ve been desperate to accept without reading about your babysitting in the footnote. He comes in everyday during your shift (regardless of the hours you take, it’s like he has a sixth sense), and has the audacity to exist in your space! It’s not like he even does anything to get banned!! He just stands there. Menacingly. You’re waiting for the day where he leaves convincing evidence that he’s there to traffic you or something- because if you didn’t know better you’d think he has a big, fat crush on you.

“Darling, how is the shop? I’ve taken care of those juvenile delinquents for you!”

“Taken care of? Whatever. Get back to class, kid.”

[stuckinmymind22]

zoro x gn! reader

wc: 663

this is the first part of a series "you're in love with me" where you realize that they are in love with you can call them out on it

thanks for voting on this one, i had fun with it, sorry it took so long, i got busy with the holidays, but it’s here now 💕

ace's is done and will be up probably tomorrow and i'm gonna start on sanjis, but lmk if you are interested in any other characters

not proof read lol

this goes one of two ways, in both you're being called stupid, both included

it's a chose your own adventure babe!

zoro has been acting strange recently- he was almost too quick to come to your aid, even if it was something you both knew you could handle alone. he’s also been making sure that you eat. recently he brought up a plate for you when you were on duty in the crow’s nest. sure, the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks were tinted pink, but that was easy to write off as a consequence of the alcohol that was surely in his veins. but he didn’t leave right away like you thought he would, he stood on the ladder without moving until he saw you take your first bite. on the last island there had been a miscalculation in your provisions and the ship was running dangerously low on alcohol. there was no doubt that the crew was going to run dry shy of meeting their next destination, which was a bigger deal to some of the straw hats than others. it all brings you to the moment he offers you a sip of the last bottle of sake. you’re speechless. you always thought that hell sure would freeze over before he shared his booze and here he is willingly offering you some. you’re trying to figure out what was going on in his head, why he has been acting so strange, then it hits you.  “you’re in love with me.”

denial is a river in egypt

“did you hit your head or sum?” he asks, trying to remain as impartial as possible, but you didn’t miss how he nearly choked at your words. “no, zo, this makes sense,” you say connecting the dots, "you've been acting real weird about me recently, this explains it." you aren’t about to back down from this, not after you wanted this for so long, not until he admits it to himself. “you’re being an idiot,” he rolls his eyes, “do you want some or not?” with a smile you grab the bottle out of his hand and take a swig, sitting down next to him. “i don’t mind you know,” you say taking another sip, “that you love me that is” zoro is confused why he is so drawn to the dangerous smile that plays on your lips. he shakes himself out of it snatching back the bottle and taking a long gulp. you get pulled away by luffy wanting something, but he still feels your presence.  little do you know how those words haunt him for the rest of the night. fuck, you might be right

he's down bad and he knows it

“n-no I’m not,” zoro sputters, his face alight, “are you stupid or something?” “no, no, this is why you’ve been acting strange,” you say, the weight of your revelation still sinking in. “that’s why you haven’t let me out of your sight for the past week, right?” you don’t give him time to respond (not that he would be able to formulate a coherent response anyway). you continue listing all of his abnormal behaviors and fail to notice how his face grows redder with your every word. poor zoro is sinking into his seat hoping to disappear he’s so uncomfortable. he’s certain that he messed everything up and has no idea what to do now. he knows that you’re right of course, it’s kept him up at night, kept him from his precious naps. it took him a while to realize why you never left his mind, and the determining factor came from the fucking cook spewing some bullshit to a pretty woman on the last island. just when he is certain that he ruined whatever relationship you could ever have you turn to him with a big smile.  “it’s a good thing you are though, or else this would be awkward,” you tell him, before he can even think to question what you mean your lips are on his and his brain malfunctions.  maybe it’ll be alright.

masterlist

[kasagia]

I love you... I am sorry II

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!witch! reader

Summary: You and Aleksander talk, scratching open old wounds from the past, you come to the conclusion that some things are simply a lost cause.

Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~Main Masterlist

~•♤♤♤•~ Part 1 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 3 ~•♤♤♤•~

"Do you think I'll tell you what to do by moving soldier figures around on the map without any logic?"

"I know you, Aleksander. Eventually you'll crack and arrange those wooden soldiers the way they need to be on this map to win this battle. Give me two hours, and I'll make you so annoyed that you will do whatever it takes to get rid of me." You respond teasingly, playing with the pawns on the Ravka map in front of his cell door.

A few days had passed since your first meeting after years. During that time, you had managed to discover exactly what changes had taken place in Aleksander.

He was apathetic, not paying attention to those around him. You had been watching from hiding as Alina and Baghra tried to talk to him, but he clearly showed no interest in Ravka's fate. And worst—Grisha. Or at least he pretended not to care. You had to find out why.

Luckily, you and Ulla were able to stir up… a lot more emotion in him than those two hags. Even if it was just irritation, it was still a greater success than Alina or Baghra could achieve. Or at least that's what Baghra told you.

"Since when have you been friends with my mother?" He asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You lazily move the figurine representing Grisha's troop to the pass between Ravka and Fjerda. With your ability to read the Shadow Summoner, you immediately notice the slight twitch at the corners of his eyes. A shitty place then. You move the figurine to a different spot and, seeing no disapproving little reaction from him, you leave it there.

"Since when did you become a pain in the ass?" You reply with a cute little smirk, grinning when you see his annoyed expression.

You pull away from your poor reenactment of battle and lean back in your chair, crossing your arms. You watch him carefully, keeping your poker face on as he analyses you too. Talking to him was like playing chess. You had to know when you could afford to lose your pawns.

"You never really said why you are here." He starts, stepping a little closer to you. Like a vulture slowly circling its prey. You liked him in his analytical hunter mode. He was so absurdly sexy…

"I don't have to explain myself to you. You are not my man or something." You scoff, glancing out of the corner of your eye at his reaction. The clench of his jaw might have gone unnoticed if you didn't know him any better, but the way he clenched his fist and hid it behind his back didn't. You pissed him off. Good.

"I am not." He only agrees coolly, this time being the one to stick the needle in your side. Bloody bastard.

"Alina wants to take me north. You know... to help calm down a situation with Fjerda by using my powers." You tell him, leaning back in your chair. You reach for the pendant around your neck and play with the glass heart, looking at him as intently as he does you.

"Have you become her errand dog?"

"Please... do you truly think so little of me?" You snort in amusement, but your mockery dies when he says nothing in response to your words. Bad move. Of course he thinks so little of you since your stormy breakup. "You don't have to answer. No. I am not going to help your little saint or queen or whatever you wish to call her with the war you wanted to prevent. No matter how dramatic the measures you resorted to, at least Ravka would not now have to deal with the united forces of Shu-Han and Fjerda. And as you could notice in the centuries we spent together, I do not support idiots and ignorants like your dear Alina."

"So you are here to say that you see my point of view, and actually you want to take my side? Perhaps you are even jealous of my 'relationship' with the Sun Summoner?" He mocks you as he approaches the bars.

You stand up furiously from your seat and approach him too, seeing only the red fire of your rage as he dares to throw your jealousy in your face.

"No. I came here to see you writhing in this cage, irritated and eager to take some action, maybe even plotting some king's slaughter. I didn't expect to be left with a boring shell of who you used to be."

"I am terribly sorry if I disappointed your expectations. Do you see now how it feels on the other side of your own treatment?"

You stare at each other for a long moment, both of you seething with anger, resentment, and bitterness built up over years of you ignoring him and running away from him and his distrust and anger towards you.

"We broke up."

"Indeed we did."

"Then why did you come back to it?"

"And why did you come back now?" You shiver at his words and pull away from him. You try desperately to maintain your neutral posture, but it becomes an increasingly difficult task as he hits all the right spots.

"Your girl ruined my peace with the war that shouldn't have happened and wouldn't have if you were in power. I couldn't stay any longer in my hiding place. Even if I wished so. I had to come and clean up your mess."

"Alina is more than you care to think about her. Much more." His words hurt you, but you know they were the best answer to your lie. After all, nothing connected you anymore. It was logical that he would defend his Sun Summoner. His little damn Sankta.

"I don't care what she is. But order your little minions once more to put me to sleep, or do anything against my will, and I promise you, Aleksander, you will remember why it's not worth teasing me."

"I remember the times you loved my teasing." He replies with a small cocky grin. And you don't know what you want to do more, punch him in the face or kiss him for being so frustratingly, irritatingly absurdly handsome.

"Don't recall them if you despise them so much."

"Why? Because you regret what you have done? Because you realise how terrible a mistake you made. Because you want back what you lost ages ago? Because you know that we could have so much more if it weren't for your selfish actions?"

"How dare you, you demon from the woods..." You growl at him furiously and step closer to the bars, tightening your hands on them in an attempt to vent your anger on him.

"I am. You shall never forget this, witch without a coven."

"And who is the reason I don't have one?" Your words ignite a fury so hot and great that he presses his body against the bars as well. You stare furiously into each other's eyes, and you know that if his power were not in bondage, the room would be filled with his shadows right now.

"I never asked you for anything or for sacrificing anything for me. What you did for me then... it didn't matter when you did this only because you felt guilty. Not after what you did TO me."

"But you asked me once to stay with you. No matter what. Remember?" You raise a questioning eyebrow at him, summoning old, distant memories. And even though centuries had passed since those events… It didn't mean it hurt any less with the passage of time.

"How convenient for you to keep only those promises that suit you. Now I'd appreciate it even more if you'd disappear for good. Or rotted in some nameless grave." You slam your hand against the bars, making him shiver in surprise at your sudden outburst.

You feel your power tingling under your skin, begging to be released and unloaded on him, but unfortunately, the last thing your stupid heart wants to do is hurt that big, stubborn idiot. So while your heart is busy calming your wild power, your wounded pride takes over and controls your mouth, providing a perhaps more painful weapon than your magic.

"Fuck off, Aleksander. You can get rid of every little reminder of your past, but you'll never get rid of me. We're too deeply connected with each other, and you damn well know it. You'll see me forever, everywhere, in every fucking breeze, the scent of flowers, and the glow of crystals. And you know how I know that? Because despite all these centuries of you being far away, I still see you in every fucking corner. In every dream, in every place, in every little memory of the past I recall. I feel you with every breath, every blink, every little touch—exactly in the places you used to cherish my skin. You've tainted everything I know and love. We are a scourge to each other and always will be. And until Ravka becomes a relatively safe place to live again, we are both condemned to each other's company."

"There is a very simple solution to all of this." He says and looks at the heart-shaped pendant hanging around your neck. You swallow hard and catch it tightly in your hand, protecting it from his gaze. "Haven't you ever thought about that? To cut yourself off from this for good? From me? You can finally be free. Maybe you'll even find your peace?"

"There is no peace for me. And neither for you." You see that your words have caused some internal stirring in his conscience.

He hesitantly places his hand on yours and takes your chin in his hand—the one on which he has a black scar from the amplifier with which he connected with Alina. You hold your breath as he strokes the line of your jaw with the pad of his thumb, staring at you intently, too mesmerised by his sudden closeness and tenderness from him after centuries apart to listen to your better judgement and pull away. You cling to him blindly. You fall into the trap of his dark eyes as you drown in his touch.

"I'm tired of fighting, Y/N. I will find peace. Even if it means losing the lives of thousands of others."

"Even my life?"

"We both know that your death would be my salvation." You smile bitterly and snort as if he's just told a funny joke. But in reality, you're doing everything in your power to keep the tears from falling from your eyes.

"Same here." You mumble, focusing your gaze on the black scar on his hand instead of his eyes, afraid his dark depths will somehow see through your lies.

You hold your breath as he grabs your chin tightly and forces you to look into his eyes. His fingers dig into your skin unpleasantly, but you don't care. You're drowning in his angry, hurtful, resentful gaze, unable to move an inch.

"Ex-lovers quarreling? Should I just go out and wait until Mom and Dad make up?" Ulla's sudden intrusion makes us both recoil from each other as if burned. You clear your throat and glare at the black-haired one madly.

"Don't call me that. I am not old like that hag who gave birth to you."

"You are talking about my mother."

"Mother, you hate, as I would like to point out. Actually, I start to wonder if there is anyone who didn't deserve your wrath, my dark general." You scoff at his remark, knowing full well that his relationship with Baghra has only worsened since you left. With a little unwanted help from you…

"In case you haven't noticed, all those dear to my heart that I came to dislike have a tendency to betray me."

"In case you haven't noticed, they may not be cheating on you, but doing what's best for you, you stubborn, damn, proud fool who can't see beyond the tip of his own dick!"

In your anger at him, you step too close to the bars, giving him the perfect opportunity to grab you by the neck. And he does. You gasp in surprise and instinctively reach for the pendant around your neck, holding the glass heart in his secure grip. Aleksander wraps his other hand around yours, trying to squeeze it hard enough to break the glass heart you try so hard to protect.

You gasp, struggling to take even one short breath, and look him straight in the eye as you mumble the words of the spell with the last of your strength. Aleksander hisses in pain and releases his grip on your necklace, but he still holds you tightly by the neck to the point where you know he'll leave bruises in the shape of his hand and fingers... which doesn't bother you as much as it should...

"Okay, stop! Both of you!" Ulla walks over to the two of you. Aleksander shifts his gaze from you to her for a moment. You feel his hand on your throat tremble as he considers letting you go. "Sasha, let her go. Before you do something entirely stupid that you will regret."

Aleksander hesitates for a few moments, then lets you go. You don't give him the satisfaction of moving away from him. You take a few deep breaths, staring at him with a hateful, cold gaze that he stubbornly avoids by looking at his sister.

"Torment me again, and I promise Ivan will put you to sleep for a thousand years." He mutters his empty threat without even looking at you, which gives you reason enough to decide you'd rather fucking die than give him the last word in this little argument between the two of you.

"If you wanted me to be your sleeping beauty and you to be my prince, all you had to do was ask, Aleksander." You mock him, and he moves to grab you painfully by the throat again. But before you can respond with one of your curses, Ulla steps between the two of you and gives you both a disappointed, irritated look.

"Y/N! That's enough for today."

"I didn't start…"

"Y/N!"

"Fine! Got it. I am on my way." You raise your hands and walk out of the barred room, but not before sticking your tongue out at Aleksander—something that escapes Ulla's watchful eye because her back is turned to you.

And as you leave, you wonder how the hell you're supposed to get this dense, stubborn asshole to cooperate when he clearly still despises your insides as much as he did all those centuries ago.

"Is that what you call taming him?"

You sigh and stop in your tracks on your way to your rooms. You close your eyes and tilt your head back, cursing the name of every saint you know under your breath before turning to the person you hate most in the world with a fake smile.

"Baghra. I wish I had the mood and time to talk to you. Unfortunately, I don't have the former, and I'd rather spend the latter on something else. Have a nice night." You turn on your heel, intending to make a quick escape, but the woman summons her shadows, blocking your path. You sigh, tired of dealing with another Morozova, and face Baghra again.

"Your methods don't work." You almost growl at the pretentious tone in her voice. She expected you to work a miracle, knowing full well what her son was like… and knowing full well why he was as hostile towards you as he was.

"Did you really think he'd just follow me and hang on every word I say? He's not some fucking puppet you can order around. He needs to trust me again. At least when it comes to saving Ravka and Grisha."

"Well, it seems like he won't come to it so soon. I thought you had a little more influence on him. Maybe you actually broke his naive little heart?"

The silence that follows her words is like a slap in the face to your pride. You can barely push back the unbidden tears, and it takes a huge amount of effort to control yourself when Baghra is giving you her infamous mocking smile. The old woman had the irritating ability to scratch open wounds that you thought had long since healed. Besides, she knew perfectly well what, or rather who, your only sweet spot was.

"Then I did exactly what you wanted, right?" You ask; he winces a little when he hears the slight tremor in your voice. Damn witch.

"I told him to stay away from you. But the stupid boy didn't listen; he loved you so much. Witches like you, wielding such power... you're all the same. You have no feelings. Self-absorbed, wanting to live forever. Tell me, Y/N, what did you need your eternity for? Was it worth it to fight for? Has it paid off for you to deceive my stupid son for so many centuries?"

"Without Aleksander by my side? No. But at least I can keep an eye on him. At least I can make sure that he will survive long enough to get his happy ending. And torment you forever. Until the end of time, my dear mother-in-law. Or your death. I personally prefer this one." You give her a contemptuous look and turn away from her, walking into the darkness of her shadows to reach your rooms and escape, just for a while, from feelings of guilt, helplessness, and wrath that the damned Morozovas have aroused in you.

"What do you mean by mother-in-law?" Baghra asks, confounded, but fortunately she doesn't follow you. She's everything but dumb. She won't expose herself to possible harm as a result of you unleashing your wild power.

"Ask your son!" You shout over your shoulder, not stopping for a moment.

You know perfectly well that a minute longer in Baghr's company would make you cry. And you promised yourself that this old witch would never be the reason for your despair again… her son was another matter.

So when you get to your room, you wave your hand over the windows to close the curtain with your magic, turn off all the lights, and let yourself curl up on your bed. You sob quietly, lying on your side, legs drawn up as you grip the necklace tightly in your hand and let yourself have a much-needed crying session. Your head spins as your power slides through you, causing storms outside. And you can only hope that Ulla is keeping Aleksander busy enough that he doesn't see the rain your crying has caused. The last thing you need is to show him how much you still care.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" You shiver as Aleksander wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your bare shoulder. His light stubble pricks your skin, but you don’t care, too fascinated by the rings on your joined hands.

"About 10 times, but who's counting?" You mumble and turn around in his arms. A smile creeps onto your face as you gently cup his cheek in your hand. "Husband. That's weird."

"Weird? Why?" He asks, frowning at you in confusion. Yet his grip on you doesn't loosen at all; if anything, he tightens it, protectively wrapping himself around you, as if his touch alone would be enough of an anchor for your raging thoughts.

"I can't believe that such a handsome and powerful man is mine. Only mine." You whisper and press your lips to his cheek.

You smile, feeling his breathing quicken slightly, and you start to feel his familiar, comforting scent surrounding you. And warmth. Which was pretty important, considering you were in a cold, damp, abandoned cabin in the woods. All alone, out of nowhere. You wouldn't trade that honeymoon for anything.

"I was yours long before we exchanged those rings. And I will be yours long after today. For as long as my heart beats and beyond. You are a part of my soul, connected to me by a force I cannot fathom. And I am grateful for anything or anyone that bound us together, that brought you on my path."

"You can't promise me things like that. You don't know what the future will bring." You mumble, panting as he begins to press kisses into your neck. You sigh and tug on his hair as he bites into you. You decide that the beard is a rather… nice new accessory. Especially when it teases your skin so nicely.

"But I can promise you today. And then tomorrow. And the day after that. And so on and so forth, until all eternity."

“Assuming we have forever.” You moan, intoxicated by both his words and the caresses of his lips and hands as he slowly removes your dress.

"I will fight with everything I have to always have you by my side." He promises fervently, cupping both of your cheeks and placing a hot kiss on your lips that instantly warms your insides. You smile as he pushes you onto the bed.

"Even with your mother?" You tease him and raise a questioning eyebrow at him. You almost break and snort at his hurt expression.

"I'm offended that my mother even crosses your mind in this situation, let alone that you're brave enough to talk about her." He mutters menacingly and reaches for your sides.

Before you can react, he's tickling you, attacking all your weak points. You laugh and squirm beneath him, screaming at him and cursing him to stop, but he just laughs and redoubles his efforts. And as much as you can't breathe anymore and are almost crying from his teasing, you enjoy his wicked, carefree laughter.

“Mercy! Mercy!” You cry out with laughter, and he finally takes pity on you. You laugh some more, recovering as he simply hovers over you and looks at you, drinking in your dishevelled appearance beneath him. “What?” You gasp, breathing deeply and wiping tears from the corners of your eyes.

“Nothing. I love you,” he says and shrugs. Your heart clenches and warms at his words, and another wave of tears nearly fills your eyes as he reaches for your hand with the silver claw ring he placed there just an hour ago.

“I love you too. More than anything.” You mumble, grabbing the glass heart that dangles from his necklace—your wedding gift to him—and pulling him to you, connecting your lips in a needy, heated kiss.

You would give away all the treasures in the world to have back that ring on your finger instead of the heavy pendant on your neck that felt like a muzzle for you. The muzzle of your eternal sin against Aleksander and you both.

"You again?" You allow yourself to roll your eyes when you enter his cell a few days later, which he greets with his mocking smile and cold gaze. He frowns, however, when this time, instead of sitting in the chair like you always did, you walk over to the bars separating him from you.

"Do not worry. I won't bother you much longer. Actually, I came to say goodbye."

You say and hand him a small box through the bars. You wait patiently for him to come over and take it from you, but his wounded pride apparently won't let him do even that. You roll your eyes as he turns his back to you and shifts his gaze to the book in his hands.

"Goodbye? That's not really in your style. Since when do you say goodbye instead of disappearing into obscurity?" He mocks you without even bothering to look at you. You swallow and nod, only now realising just how deep his resentment of you runs. But you don't have the strength to fight him any longer.

"Well, I learnt that from you, but since we're not together anymore, I guess I'm ditching your habits for some new ones."

Over the centuries, you and Aleksander have gotten back together and broken up a million times. You let him come back into your life as if he had never ripped your heart out and taken it with him countless times. Each time he was leaving, he put his plan into action to ensure that Grisha was safe from whatever enemy they currently had. He was choosing the good of his people over yours.

Every grand plan that was supposed to end with the restoration of freedom for Grisha usually ended in failure. And every time, he came back to you. To your arms. To hide there from the world, lick his wounds, and hide his shadows in the safety of your home.

But just as suddenly as he came, he left you. All for Grisha. His whole life was dedicated to ensuring a better fate for his people than he had as a child. And so he ended up in a cell. Alone. Maybe not completely. You knew he had many supporters in the 'underground.' But what good were supporters when he had no one to stand by his side? Supported through thick and thin?

On the other hand… you never joined him in his plans. You always stuck to your own woods and paths… it was pure fate that for a time you both followed the same one.

"Well, I'm actually glad about that. I should have noticed sooner that you're just like everyone else. The greatest liar among liars. A witch without a coven that no one ever trusted or wanted to be near."

You give him a small smile, perfectly keeping your true emotions from surfacing. You drop the box and let your magic transport it to the table he's sitting at. With a quick wave of your hand, you make the box clatter loudly against the wooden table.

Luckily, that catches his attention enough for him to finally look at you.

"You want to talk about liars and cheaters? Go ahead. There's a big war coming. You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it. Alina and Nikolai won't let the Fjerda get away with invading their lands and killing Grisha like they used to do and still do. So why do you pretend it doesn't bother you? That it doesn't concern you? Why do you sit here obediently and do nothing when we both know you have the means to escape? Who are you trying to convince that you don't care anymore about your people, us, or yourself?"

This time, you are the one to look away from him. You don't wait for his response and just move away from him. You walk over to the part of his bookcase that wasn't behind bars, running your finger over the titles on them.

"And who is us?" A shiver runs through your body, and you thank yourself for keeping your back to him. You don't know what he would read on your face as you say your next words.

"Ulla. Me. People that really care about you."

"You left me." He points out stubbornly again, as if you didn't know what you had done against him.

But the truth was that you had both hurt each other equally. It was just easier for him to blame you than for you. Or maybe your guilt against him was actually greater than whatever he did behind your back...

"You didn't mourn my leaving much."

"Maybe I mourned too many in my life to add you to this list?"

When you finally find the book you were looking for, you take it and turn to face him. He steps towards the bars, his hand around one and his gaze fixed on you. You can barely hold back a small smile as you see his shadows hovering in the corners of his cell.

"Believe what you want… but not everything was a lie between us, Aleksander. And you've had your fair share of lies for me, before I've even considered doing what you hate me for. Does the fact that you managed to tell me your lies before Baghra reported my secrets to you make any difference? You and I... we are similar. I am a witch without a coven, and you are a Grisha without an order. We are both alone in this world. But I admired the fact that you continued to fight, even when everyone else was against you. You may have been a villain in everyone else's story, but you've always been a hero in mine. In Ulla's. We admired you for what you were, for the strong leader who would do anything for his family and people. And who are you now?"

"I am the man your lies and manipulation created. All of yours. My mother's, Alina's, yours. So don't you dare stay here and say that I am meant to be something more when you stabbed me in my back and left when I needed you the most."

"You hated me then."

"And what gives you the impression that I still don't?" That I didn't need you even when I was furious with you?"

"I..." You're at a loss for words. You have no idea how to answer him, especially when the stormy blackness of his eyes overwhelms you as much as his words.

He couldn't mean them, could he? He couldn't be mad that you left him. He had to play with you… There was no way he'd want you around after you'd supposedly betrayed him.

You snort and shake your head at his words. No. You won't let him enter your mind and manipulate you. Although… You can't say your heart has shifted indifferently at the revelation he's told you. Because what if he really needed you by his side? What if… he loved you more than he hated you?

"It doesn't matter. Say what you want or get out." Well, his words only prove that you are right about this. And they reassure you in the decision you want to make.

"I'm going north with Alina. You can either join us or rot here. And to be honest, I don't care anymore. I was never your enemy, Aleksander. But if you so desperately need one, then all right. Make me your villain. But know that everything I did, I did for you. For us. Even if I hurt you in my desperate attempts to protect you, for which I do not intend to apologize. Everything I did, I did for us, for you. But maybe it really is time to change things between us once and for all."

After your words, you take a few seconds to look at him. Your gaze lazily follows his dark hair, his eyes, the set of his jaw. Without a word, you nod to him and leave, as if saying goodbye for the very last time.

"Protect me from what?" You hear him walk over to the table and open the package in a hurry. Then he freezes when he sees the familiar object you've placed there. "Y/N?! Answer me! Y/N!" He shouts after you, banging on the metal bars, but you don't spare him a second glance. You just walk out of there, hoping your little trick will work.

Because if he won't follow you to war after you give him a necklace with his blood—the same blood you tricked him into taking and enchanting to give you immortality—then you don't know what'll get him out of that stupid cell.

Taglist (I hope that everyone who wanted to be there are there. If not, I am soooooooooo soooo sorry): @aoi-targaryen @chelseyyouraverageluigi @watersquirtpewpewboomm @summersummoner-pat @barnes70stark

@zeeader @the-desilittle-bird

@thepassionatereader @budugu

@sinistersnakey @diaries-of-a-hopelessromantic

@aryhyuuga

@oh-thats-cute

@meadows5

[caramelc0rgi]

Some late night Cherik thoughts about how obvious these two men are in love the second they meet because I cannot get these two idiots out of my head. It’s painfully obvious that these two are in love. Like, it’s not even subtle. You can practically hear the romantic tension in every argument they have about mutants and humanity. Sure, they’re on opposite sides of the whole “mutant coexistence” debate, but their entire relationship screams “soulmates with irreconcilable differences.”

First off, their chemistry is ridiculous. Take X-Men: First Class, for example. They meet, and within minutes they’re saving each other’s lives, having deep conversations about trauma, and staring into each other’s eyes like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. That scene where Charles uses his powers to help Erik unlock his full potential? That wasn’t just about mutant abilities—that was emotional intimacy. It’s basically a love confession. Erik literally tells Charles, “You’re my friend,” but you can tell he wants to say something deeper. They just don’t know how to deal with these overwhelming feelings, so naturally, they bury it under philosophical debates.

Then there’s the way they talk about each other. Even when they’re on opposite sides, Erik can’t go five minutes without talking about how much he respects Charles (loser). And Charles? He’s always trying to “save” Erik, like some tragic romantic hero. He never gives up on him, no matter how many times Erik declares war on humanity. That level of dedication is not just “friendship.” Charles forgives Erik for everything, even when Erik leaves him paralyzed. Who does that for someone they’re not hopelessly in love with?

And don’t even get me started on Days of Future Past. They’ve been estranged for years, and what does Charles say when he sees Erik again? “I don’t want your suffering. I don’t want your future.” Excuse me? That’s not just mutant politics; that’s heartbreak. They’re always caught in this cycle of love and betrayal, but they can’t seem to let each other go. Even when Erik chooses violence and chaos, Charles is always there, quietly heartbroken but still hoping.

Their relationship is the emotional core of the X-Men series. It’s messy and tragic, and they’re both too stubborn to admit their feelings, but the love is there. Whether it’s the meaningful glances, the passionate arguments, or the way they never really give up on each other, Charles and Erik are absolutely in love. It’s just that their love language happens to be moral debates and existential angst, lol.

[t1ts-4-donaldson]

Cam Boy!Art Donaldson x Shy Reader part 2

“Come on it’s alright” Art scoots your body down to his pelvis his hard shaft bumping against your pussy making a shiver run up your spine smirking as you quiver beneath him, “this is just practice for when we start filming later.” He caresses your hip attempting to comfort you.

“Alright relax” he mumbles and squeezes your bent legs together by your knees kissing one before pushing his dick between your squished thighs, his head falls back as he glides it back and forth a loud ‘fuck’ and low grunt leaving his throat.

He looks down at you gaze lingering on your flushed cheeks and fucked out eyes before drifting down between the both of you the way you’re milking his cock, pre-cum glazing your stomach. His eyes jolt back up to your as you hold back a moan, one of your hands clasped over your mouth from embarrassment. He slaps your hand away and grips your cheeks tightly. “Don’t hold back I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel.” He grumbles.

You nod pathetically barely registering what he’s saying so focused on trying to make his dick slide inside you, hips jolting up trying to meet his hard member. You pout when his pace slackens and he smiles realizing what you want.

“Want me to fuck your your pussy?” His eyes darken as you huff and nod his smirk widens “you’re serious? I only ever touched you once and you wanna fuck already” he mocks.

You wince and cover your face with your hands humiliation over-riding your thoughts ‘fucking idiot’ loops in your brain, wondering if your desire comes off as pathetic desperation, you want to run away you slowly shift up onto your elbows when he shoves you back down against the bed by your neck.

“Say it” he mutters completely stilling his movements. you frown looking down at his cock, how good it’s making you feel and he can see it on your face you’re too scared to admit how much you want him. How you want to tell him to fuck off and get on with ruining you. Especially when you roll your eyes and try tugging the hand clasped around your neck.

“Say it or I’m walking out that door.” His eyes leave yours looking up briefly across the room. You scoff watching as he sits back on his ass letting go of your legs. He’s bluffing but you don’t buy it, feeling hurt that he’d leave you high and dry so you give in shoving down any shame you feel. “Fuck my pussy please.” You stammer voice cracking pitifully.

“Aw..” He mock pouts. “That’s all I wanted my good girl to say..”

Your heart hammers at the words ‘his good girl’ the idea of being his, him wanting you around more than just something to fuck or corrupt warming you up inside. He catches the look on your face the admiration and longing in your glassy eyes.

He feels guilty not feeling the same way yet

So he relents opening your thighs again and leaning forward pressing a soft kiss against your lips, lingering a bit before his hand shifts to the back of your neck pulling you up to sit.

“Spit,” he cups his hand out and you oblige his mouth slackens as a bit of drool drips down your chin, he gulps trying to keep his composure bringing his hand to his dick pumping it until it’s slick.

He takes a hold of it running it up and down your cunt, wet and ready for him. He opens your folds teasing your clit with the head of his cock slowly moving down pressing up right against your entrance.

He grunts as it flutters around the him but he hesitates and stops feeling you’re not ready even if you’re begging for it. He wants it to be good, perfect even he won’t take advantage of you

Instead he whispers an ‘I got you’ and adjusts your body molding your legs together again and shifting your ass so it’s laid on his thighs.

You stop him hand gripping onto his arm “aren’t you going to um..” you flush red trying to spit out the words “fuck me?” You whisper

He grins softly and shakes his head “next time.. I want it to be special.” You blush at the scene playing out in your head confused that he actually cares but reluctantly nod a sliver of a smile on your face.

he sighs satisfied and glides his shaft between your wet folds pushing his cock down so it manages to stay snug.

He notices how much you like it, entranced by the way your body clenches up, the way you cup your tits and tug at your skin craving some sort of stability. He cries out surprised when you take initiative moving on your own accord gyrating up and down meeting his quick thrusts.

A small moan leaves your lips you both move faster desperate for release his fingers clasping the flesh of your thighs indents surly to show tomorrow.

You gather up the courage to slither your hand down your stomach onto his dick, hand softly pressing his cock head down making sure it hits your clit every time he lunges forward in tandem helping Art fuck into your closed palm.

“Shit you’re perfect” he whimpers at the new sensation his motions becoming sloppy.

“Thanks.” You squeak and he laughs “so innocent” he whispers but his patience is wearing thin.

His pace quickens and you gasp at the friction the onslaught aggression making the squelching between your legs louder.

your eyes shut closed from how good is feels but Art refuses “let me see, open your eyes now” he pleads urgently needing to see you fall apart.

He falls forward unable to hold back anymore his hands gripping your torso pummeling you loud ah’s echo throughout the room as Art tries to hold back his impending orgasm his fingers meeting your clit rubbing circles around the sensitive nub, “come please.. can’t hold it-“ he swears face and chest red from exertion.

Then your orgasm hits you like lightning, body jolting up from the mattress, your hands reach up trying to grab hold of him but you writhe on his bed instead.

That was it for him 3 hard thrusts later and he comes undone a load moan ripping through his chest with each hard pump. Watching you cum making him unravel.

His ears ring from his release when your whimpers snap him out of his lust filled stupor as his name repeatedly slip through your lips.

he sees your hands reaching out for him through his blurred vision looking for some ease it tugs at his heartstrings

he releases his hold and your legs drop completely limp as he holds your hands running his thumb over your knuckles. “You did so good” he mumbles hovering over you encasing your body under his nuzzling his face into your neck. You smile softly heat radiating from your body feeling like your skin is on fire, beads of sweat littering your forehead, “sorry I’m sticky.” You whine uncomfortably.

Art rolls his eyes and smashes his mouth on yours, “it’s fine” he slurs sucking your bottom lip and pulling back with a pop. He takes a moment to catch his breath before sitting back and looking at his masterpiece.

Your beautiful face completely fucked out, breathing ragged chest rising and falling quickly.

That’s when he notices his spunk coating your belly “So filthy” he snorts gathering his load and smearing the remenants up on your face wanting to see you dirty, covered in him.

he laughs as you cringe

[olailamajnoon]

Kara Zor-El was sneezing out into a clump of tissues what sounded like heavy glutinous nasal discharge.

Clark was looking at her without much sympathy. The rest of the Justice League were looking at Kara with fascinated revulsion.

"You have a cold," Bruce observed.

"You are the world's greatest detective!" Kara replied, awed.

"How," said Bruce. "How did this happen."

"She was exposing herself to Kryptonite," said Clark, turning to Kara with a look that said she deserved every bit of what she was going through.

"To build my resistance!" said Kara." I'm not going to be vulnerable to and at the mercy of a puny green element!" She sneezed again for a long time into the napkin, and by the time she was done the entire Justice League looked faintly like they were about to throw up their breakfasts.

"So your compromised immune system got infected by an Earth virus," said Bruce calmly.

"He's a brilliant man," said Kara, turning to Clark. "I can see why you keep him around."

"If you die," said Clark, "don't you dare come haunt me. Let the record show that I tried to dissuade you from hurting yourself."

"Ghosts don't do rules. I will come haunt both of you," said Kara, pointing at Bruce and Clark. "Just for shits and giggles, and because I can."

Bruce was giving her a Look.

"Hey, don't you dare look at me like that!" said Kara. "It's not my fault I don't feel safe around you, Mr. Contingency Plans Consisting Mostly of Kryptonite."

Bruce was still staring at her, saying nothing.

"He's still giving me the Look," Kara said, pointing and turning to Clark. Clark opened his mouth and closed it.

Kara sneezed again, noisily and moistly.

"Take your disgusting mucus-filled sinuses elsewhere," Bruce snapped.

"Don't tell me you're a germaphobe." Kara smiled serenely.

"I'm an idiot-phobe," said Bruce.

Kara sighed. "I just want to be a better fighter. A better...whatever it is I do. If I get taken down everytime by a green glowy rock, it just...sucks."

Bruce steepled his fingers and leaned forward, and began talking earnestly. "When you joined the League, you signed a few papers, making your health and well-being a League monopoly. You do not own your person anymore. Your body is a Justice League asset, and what that means is, you cannot hurt yourself—for any reason—without permission from the team. You do not so much as stub your toe without our say-so."

"That sounds deeply disturbing," said Kara.

"If you find it deeply disturbing, you are free to leave." Bruce's mouth was firm. Kara turned to look at Clark. Clark was looking at the table.

"Clark?"

"It's one of the by-laws," Clark said finally. "Technically the Justice League can hold you responsible for any self-harm. That's why I told you to read the papers before you signed them."

"What?!"

"Now the JLA can sue you for damages to League property."

"I don't—I don't even have a legal presence, oh my god!"

"So, Kara," said Bruce, frowning. "What's it going to be? The door or the rules?"

"I wanna punch you both so bad right now!"

"Understandable," Bruce said. "But ultimately your health is a priority. You're not to do this again."

"I have to second that, Kara," said Diana softly. "If you had mental health issues that would be one thing. But you did this not to escape from any pain, but simply to...I don't know, prove yourself?"

Kara's face was white. "You people," she said finally, "are the world's biggest arseholes."

Hal Jordan huffed a laugh. "We can sue you though. So knock it off."

"I guess I have no choice?" Kara said hesitantly.

"None whatsoever," said Bruce. "The next incident of you injecting Kryptonite into your body, you will be suspended."

"Indefinitely," said Diana. "We are not a group of friends who hang out in silly costumes. We are a team, with definite goals and objectives. The fate of humanity very often lies in our hands. Being vulnerable isn’t a weakness, not trusting your team is."

Kara felt guilty and relieved at the same time. The Kryptonite was humming in her blood. Weakness. "Fine," she said, sulkily. It wasn't worth it, getting kicked from the League just to be a cold-ridden Kryptonite-laden corpse.

"You'll have to do better than fine," said Hal gently. "Give us your word. No more idiotic experiments."

"I give you my word, dipshits," said Kara bitterly, and looked at Clark.

Clark looked relieved. "You'll be fine, Kara. It's okay to feel...like you've got to carry the whole world's weight on your shoulders. But sometimes you gotta let go, kid."

"Letting go is the story of my fucking life!" Kara snarled. She got up and tottered out of the room, slamming the door in her wake. The sound echoed silently for a while.

"So," said Hal once she was gone. "Whose brilliant idea was it to come up with that bullshit? About that clause in those documents?"

"She was hurting herself," Clark said dimly.

"And I knew," says Bruce, "that she wouldn't listen to reason. She needed a compelling...threat."

"You fucking a-hole control freak," Hal muttered.

"But Bruce, what if she goes searching the contracts for those by-laws?" asked Barry timidly.

"It's a long afternoon for me," said Bruce, holding up a sheaf of papers, "of retroactively editing signed documents."

"You mean forgery," said Diana.

Bruce smiled grimly. "Potato po-tah-to."

"So, I'm guessing," said Hal, "that I can sue you for that time you forced me to take my League salary on pain of expulsion."

"You’d lose," said Bruce casually, getting up. "I have better lawyers."