#so I couldn’t use my arms at all. couldn’t lay on my side. could BARELY get shirts on my myself and it hurt like hell

[sarcasticallyexplicit11]

The Curtis parents were buried on a cold, rainy day in January; the weather outside perfectly matching the emotions of the East side. The house was quiet, far quieter than it had been in 13 years. 

The kitchen table where Darry was covered in paperwork: bills, custody papers, deeds, more bills. Steve and Soda were curled up on the recliner, Soda’s head laying on Steve’s shoulder while he whispers to Soda about something no one else could hear. Ponyboy, Dally, and Johnny sit together on the couch, silent tears rolling down Pony’s face and Johnny running his fingers through his hair. Dally sat with his arm around Johnny’s shoulder, the unoccupied hand twirling his switchblade. 

They had all been like this since the funeral, no one saying much of anything to anyone. “He hasn’t cried,” Ponyboy whispered. Johnny and Dally looked at him in confusion, confused by the suddenness of the statement. They knew exactly who he was talking about without having to ask. Darry had been a rock at the funeral. He handled the arrangements, held his brothers while they cried, gave the eulogy, and spoke with the distant relatives who decided to show up. And he did all of it without shedding a single tear. “He ain’t said nothing but I know he’s hurtin’, he’s gotta be,” Pony says before burying his face in Johnny’s chest and beginning to sob. 

Soda hadn’t said a word since they got back from the cemetery. Hell, he’d barely said anything while they were there. He only talked to Steve and his brothers, no one else. Steve looked at him and pinched his brows together in worry. A quiet Sodapop was never good. Steve could almost see the gears in his head turning, like there were words trapped in his mind that just wouldn’t come out. Soda buried his head farther into Steve’s shoulder, sighing deeply. “What’s on your mind,” Steve asked. He wasn’t expecting an answer. The question just came tumbling out of his mouth. Steve felt hot tears on his neck, Soda’s body shaking from crying. “Shhhhh bud, I gotcha.” 

Darry wanted to get up and comfort his brothers. He wanted to wrap them up in his arms and tell them it would be okay. No matter how much he craved holding them tight, it was like he couldn’t get his legs to work. His brain knew what he needed, his body just would not cooperate. All he could do was stare at the papers in front of him, none finished. Looking at the clock, Darry took a deep breath and stood up for the first time since they’d gotten back to the house. “I-I’m gonna start on dinner,” he murmured to himself. No one in the living room acknowledged him, but both Soda and Pony heard the waver in his voice, the uncertainty that filled his mind.

Before he could open the fridge, the front door creaked open and Two-Bit’s whistle came through it. The boys in the living room look up and Soda smiles a bit, for the first time since their parents died. “Heya Two,” said Soda without moving his head off Steve’s shoulder. 

Two-Bit walked behind the couch and ruffled Pony’s hair, who ducked his head to get out of the way. “Hey y’all,” Two replied, “my mom made lasagna for us so that you don’t gotta cook Dar.” 

Darry froze in his spot in the kitchen. He sucked in a deep breath and promptly collapsed onto the floor in tears. Everyone stared at him in shock, unsure of what they were supposed to do. The shock took a second to wear off. When it did, both Soda and Pony lept out of their seats and were at their big brother’s side before anyone could blink. “I’m sorry, God I’m so sorry,” Darry stammers, tears streaming down his face. No one says anything, everyone afraid of making a move in case they disturb the rare vulnerability of the gang's eldest. 

Two-Bit sets the food on the kitchen table and drops down on one knee in front of Darry. “I didn’t know a bit of Italian would make ya cry Muscles,” he states from his spot on the floor. Darry chuckles a little bit, then leans further into Soda’s shoulder. Darry continued to murmur a mixture of I’m sorry’s and other apologies while Soda and Ponyboy held onto him. 

The only sounds heard throughout the house were Darry’s sniffles and the quiet shuffling of the boys in the living room, unsure of what they should do. Neither Pony nor Soda dared to move to make sure Darry takes the time he needs to get all of his emotions out. Dally, Steve, and Johnny begin to make their way into the kitchen, all of them settling somewhere on the floor near Darry. 

After what feels like hours, Darry’s tears finally stop. He swipes at his eyes and says, “Glory y’all I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve broke down like that.” 

Two-Bit shakes his head, putting a hand on Darry’s knee. Soda wraps his arm around Darry’s shoulder and squeezes it. “You don’t gotta apologize, you don’t gotta be strong all the time,” Soda replies as he tugs Darry closer to his body. Darry fought the urge to disagree with him. He had to be strong, he had to be. Someone had to pay the bills and take care of the gang. Someone has to keep the lights on and food on the table. Darry had no choice but to be strong for everyone. 

They stayed on the floor together until Dally stood up to stretch his legs. “Alright, some of y’all,” Dally says pointedly at the Curtis brothers, Darry in particular, “haven’t eaten all day. And I happen to know Pony here gets cranky so let’s eat.” Pony gets up and shoves Dally with his shoulder, who just wraps an arm around him and laughs. The gang get up, Darry grabbing plates and silverware while Two opens up the dish. 

Everyone gathers at the kitchen table, with Steve hopped up on the counter eating his plate. Darry takes a seat at the head of the table, smiling now that he knew everyone was in the house, fed and safe. 

[cahootings]

Just having a little moment of gratitude for my body and how strong and resilient it is and trying to hold on to that

[tonycries]

Little Heaven

Synopsis. He’s just your friend-with-benefits, right? So why - in the still haze of the soft sheets and you, fúcking you so sensual and tenderly - does he feel like he’s found his own personal heaven?

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, kinda fluffy, he’s both pússydrunk and in love, slow to rough, marking, mentions of marriage and kids, morning, swearing.

Word count. 1.3k

A/N. Probably the fluffiest smút I’ve ever written.

You were just his friend-with-benefits, right? No strings attached, right? 

So why was he here? Sinking into your plush mattress, quiet morning sun just barely peeking in through the curtains as he wraps his arms around your naked figure. 

God, he really shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be laying you on your side, drinking in your soft little, “G’mornin’.” Both of your movements languid and still burning with soreness. Your hips pushing back desperately into his as he positions himself so that his leaking tip was just kissing your swollen folds. 

He shouldn’t be whispering soft kisses into the marks that littered your skin. Licking one, long stripe up the sinful trail of hickies down your neck. All sensual touches where it was bruising grips last night. 

That was rule #1, right? No marks. 

Or was it #4… 

Ah, right now he couldn’t give less of a fuck. Not when his greedy eyes wander the expanse of your face, fingers trailing along the features he’s mapped a thousand times over. Tracing delicate patterns across your skin, snaking down, down, down to leisurely lift your leg a little higher. 

Bare chest warm against your back, his voice is low and gravelly in your ear as he whispers, “I had a dream y’know.” 

Mind still thinly veiled with sleep, you lean into his warm touch, “Mhm?” 

Your breath hitches at the way he drags his swollen head teasingly across your slit, pooling your slick on his achingly hard tip. Smearing your juices with his thumb as he pumps himself lazily. It’s so torturously good. You almost miss the way he buries his face into the crook of your neck, murmuring a soft “Had a dream of us.”

Oh? 

Before you can overthink his words, he’s nudging in gently. So agonizingly gentle. And you can do nothing more than let out barely-audible whispers of his name as he bullies his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. 

You feel so full. So drunk off of the delicious burn of your pussy and him. 

And it seems he was drunk on you just as much, because as soon as his hips are flush against yours, the words escape him. So quiet and groggy with sleep, that you almost don’t catch them.

“Had a dream that I made you my beautiful bride.”

Oh. 

That was new. His words hung heavy in the heady air. 

Shivers run down your spine - all the way to where he was buried in your dripping cunt. Your voice is slightly shaky as you let out a humorless laugh, “Oh yeah? Must’ve been a nightmare then.”

Soft lips press against your forehead, breathing in your scent. Absolutely searing as he mutters out a muffled, “No, was the best dream I ever had.”

And then, with the audacity of someone who didn’t just send your mind reeling, he pulls his hips back unhurriedly. Immediately fucking into you at a slow, sensual pace. Tip kissing your cervix as he rolls his hips languidly into yours, making sure you feel every bump and graze against your tight walls.

You don’t know what’s more maddening - his agonizing pace or the words that tumble out of his lips. “Y’looked so beautiful in white. So pretty walking down the aisle to me.” 

His lips brush against yours, hands dancing across every inch of you he could reach. Gently caressing the skin like it’s something divine, soothing over the marks from last night as if an apology. “Don’ think I’d want to see anyone else there.”

You glance back at him - only to find his eyes already on you. A jolt of electricity runs across your skin at the pure warmth in them. And you realize that, no, this wasn’t a joke. 

Not trusting yourself to speak, you simply grind your hips down to meet his, abs rubbing against your ass. Letting out a broken whimper of what sounds like his name as he moves down a hand to press rough, little circles over and over your throbbing clit. 

“Saw a little something else too.” he hums, a sly smile curling his lips as his other hand dances across your body to press down on your stomach. Hard. “Saw that I had some competition - two actually. Funny, right?”

“Hah- h-hilarious.” you manage to choke out as his thumb speeds up on your clit, hips moving a bit more purposefully. A bit more like you were used to. Rock-hard cock plunging into your quivering cunt in deliberate, sloppy thrusts that have you white-knuckling the sheets. 

“Though…” he trails off dangerously, pulling back all the way until his furiously hard tip was just kissing your waiting hole. “I wouldn’t really mind.”

And with that he’s sheathing his throbbing erection in your wet pussy completely. A gasp of delight leaves him at the way you take him so readily. Walls sucking him up so sinfully - perfect. You were always so perfect for him. 

“Dreamt we had a lil’ house with a big garden.” God, he can feel his cock harden so painfully at the fucked-out little ah! ah! ah! leaving your pretty lips each time his hip smack into yours. It’s music to his ears, such a shame he just can’t shut the fuck up right now. “And then you dressed the kids up while I made breakfast.”

“Then you made us do taxes and I didn’t even fucking mind.” His voice is strained now, words slurring together as he rams his cock deeper and deeper, glistening with your slick in the soft morning glow. 

“And finally at night, I say we should make a third one.” 

He looks at you, a sly grin stretching his lips, eyes half-lidded and a dangerous twinkle in them that has you wondering whether everything he said before was merely a ruse to fuck you silly. And it probably shows on your face - because he grins lowly in your ear, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we have till our wedding night f’me to fuck you slow.”

And oh he almost feels guilty. But he can’t bring himself to slow down at the way your swollen lips drop into such a pretty oh! at his words. Mewling at the sting of his heavy balls as they smack your ass. Walls clamping down desperately on his dick, milking him for every drop of pleasure. Each thrust into your warm core has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, brows furrowing in ecstasy as he focuses on making you lose your mind. 

He shifts his angle slightly, grinding expertly against your g-spot just right, and you throw your head back, releasing a low moan of his name.

“Shit. Yeah, say m’name, sweetheart. Jus’ like that.” he moans breathlessly. 

His name - soon to be yours.

Maybe.

You turn your head to face him, eyes fiery as you capture his in an equally scorching kiss. Cock slamming into your poor, abused cunt with an intensity that matches that of your lips.

Probably. 

Biting down on his lower lips, soft yet insistent. Humming deliriously against his mouth - and in the heat of it all, he feels you smile against his lips. Ever-so-slightly. 

Definitely. 

And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure behind your eyes, walls clamping down so deliciously around his twitching cock. It sends him over the edge as well - whispering your name as if a prayer, voice hoarse with emotions neither of you could name at this very moment. 

Hot ropes of his thick cum paint your trembling cunt white, milking the soul out of him as you both ride out your climaxes together. A creamy ring forming around his base as some truly animalistic part of himself fucks his seed into you - a promise, he likes to think.

“I’m serious about the dream.”

Almost as gentle as that one. 

As the haze settles, his thrusts slowing down to just shallow grinds, a fragile silence envelopes the room as neither of you speak. Because maybe no other words were needed. 

And right now, morning sunlight harsh on his skin, strong arms pulling you warm body flush against his, no one but you two in this quiet world - he doesn’t think he’d like to be anywhere else.

All is well in your little heaven.

- GOJO, GETO, Choso, SUNA, ATSUMU, Tsukishima, Kuroo, EREN

A/N. Bro it took longer to think of what to write than to write this. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[xo100]

Little moments, big hearts - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: You and Lando spend a cozy morning babysitting your brother’s baby. Between playful banter and tender moments, Lando hints at a future together, leaving you both feeling closer and full of hope.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2270

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The sun was just beginning to peek through the curtains, spilling soft, golden light across the room. Lando lay stretched out, one arm slung across the mattress, while you were curled up beside him, close enough to feel the steady rhythm of his breathing. Between you, cradled in a little cocoon of blankets, was your brother’s baby boy, whose eyelids fluttered softly in the early morning light.

Your brother had asked if you and Lando could babysit his little one for the day while he and his wife went out for the first real date they'd had in months. You had barely been able to answer before Lando was nodding enthusiastically, the prospect of a baby-filled day surprisingly welcome. And now, here you were—still half-asleep, all three of you wrapped in a cozy little pile on the bed.

“Did I ever mention,” Lando whispered, his voice still laced with sleep, “that you look ridiculously cute with a baby in your arms?”

You cracked one eye open and met his gaze, fighting off a drowsy grin. “I think you mentioned it once or twice. Maybe.”

Lando’s fingers lightly traced circles along your arm as he shifted his gaze back to the tiny, slumbering face nestled between you. “He’s actually quite peaceful,” he murmured with a smile, “for a little guy who woke up every two hours last night.”

“He has been a little handful,” you admitted, biting back a yawn as you watched the baby stir slightly, one chubby hand curling into a tiny fist.

“But,” Lando added, his voice softening as he adjusted the blankets around the baby, “I kinda get why your brother adores him so much.” He looked up at you, his eyes warm, a mischievous glint lighting up his tired smile. “Though I have to say, I think he looks cuter in my arms.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, rolling over to prop yourself up on an elbow and raising a playful eyebrow. “I think he’d say otherwise.”

Lando laughed quietly, his eyes gleaming. “Care to make a wager on that?”

You snorted, gently nudging him. “As if he’s going to pick sides.”

“Well, I think he’s got good taste,” Lando replied, feigning a cocky smirk. “He already knows I’m the fun one.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, careful not to wake the baby. “I’d hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure I’m his favorite.”

Lando’s eyes twinkled, and he leaned a little closer, lowering his voice to a murmur. “Fine. But I’m your favorite, right?”

Rolling your eyes, you swatted him lightly, but you couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “If you keep your voice down and don’t wake him up, you just might be.”

A soft chuckle escaped him, and he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “You drive a hard bargain.”

For a few minutes, you just lay there, letting the quiet settle over the room, feeling Lando’s hand gently tracing up and down your arm, your heart warm with the weight of everything familiar and right. The baby stirred every now and then, tiny hands reaching for your fingers, which you offered gladly. Every so often, he’d grasp one of Lando’s fingers, his little face creasing in what looked like the beginnings of a smile.

Lando watched him with a look you’d rarely seen, an expression caught somewhere between awe and contentment. He caught your gaze and offered a sheepish grin. “I think I could get used to this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” he said softly, glancing back down at the baby. “I mean, lazy mornings like this…with you, and maybe even a little one of our own someday.” He gave a small shrug, his cheeks just a little pink. “Just thinking out loud, you know.”

The thought made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but smile as you reached out, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. “Maybe someday,” you murmured, your heart swelling at the idea of more mornings just like this.

Lando looked at you with such warmth in his eyes, a gentleness that felt like sunlight. “Yeah, someday,” he whispered back, his thumb rubbing small, soothing circles on your hand.

The baby let out a little sigh, his mouth forming a perfect “O” as he squirmed a bit before settling back down, his breathing soft and even. Lando chuckled, pulling you closer so you were nestled against him, your head on his chest as his fingers brushed up and down your back in gentle strokes.

“I think we wore him out,” you murmured, watching the baby’s peaceful face.

“Or maybe he wore us out,” Lando replied, stifling a yawn.

“True,” you admitted, stifling a laugh. “But I don’t mind.”

“Neither do I,” Lando whispered, his voice so soft you could almost believe he was already half-asleep.

With your eyes drifting shut, the morning seemed to stretch on forever, warm and unhurried, filled with a quiet joy that made you want to hold onto every second. You could feel Lando’s heartbeat beneath you, steady and sure, a gentle reminder that this was real. That he was real.

After a few minutes, you felt his fingers brush against your cheek, his touch light and lingering, just enough to make you open your eyes and meet his gaze. He was smiling at you, a slow, tender smile that sent your heart racing all over again.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, just barely above a whisper.

“Hey yourself,” you whispered back, grinning.

Lando leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Just so you know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin, “I’m pretty sure this is the best morning ever.”

And as you lay there, wrapped up in him and in the cozy warmth of your little family-in-the-making, you couldn’t help but think he might be right.

-

As the morning continued to unfold, the soft sounds of the baby’s breathing mixed with the occasional rustle of the sheets as you and Lando shifted to make yourselves comfortable. The sun climbed higher in the sky, filling the room with a warmth that was both cozy and invigorating.

Lando’s gaze drifted back to the baby, who had finally settled into a deeper sleep. “You know,” he said, his voice still low and sleepy, “I never thought I’d enjoy babysitting as much as I do right now.”

You chuckled softly, brushing your fingers through the baby’s soft hair. “I guess it’s different when you’re with someone who makes everything feel like an adventure.”

“Exactly,” Lando replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “And I think I could handle a little adventure with a baby.” He shifted slightly, reaching out to tickle the baby’s tiny foot, eliciting a small, involuntary kick. “See? I’m a natural!”

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “A natural? You’re just lucky he’s too young to complain about your dad jokes.”

“Hey, my dad jokes are legendary!” Lando protested, but there was no real bite to his words. His laughter mingled with yours, filling the room with an infectious joy that made your heart swell.

The lazy morning drifted on, the three of you wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and comfort. You eventually found your way back to each other, resting against Lando as he softly hummed a tune under his breath. It was a familiar song that had been playing in the background during countless evenings together, and it filled you with a sense of nostalgia.

“Do you remember the first time we tried babysitting?” you asked, your voice soft as you recalled the chaotic but hilarious day filled with spilled snacks and a wailing baby.

“How could I forget?” Lando replied, chuckling. “You practically had a meltdown when he wouldn’t stop crying, and I was trying to convince you that it was just a phase.”

“It was more than just a phase!” you countered playfully. “That baby had some serious lungs.”

“But you handled it like a champ,” he said, his tone turning earnest. “I knew right then that you were going to be an amazing mom someday.”

The words hung in the air, weighty and filled with meaning. You felt your cheeks flush, warmth spreading through you at his compliment. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” he affirmed, looking at you with an intensity that made your heart race. “You have this natural way with him. I can just picture it—us, in the future, juggling a couple of little ones, surrounded by laughter and chaos.”

You smiled, imagining the scene. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying, but more than anything, it filled you with a sense of hope. “That would be quite the adventure.”

“Exactly! Just imagine all the little personalities,” Lando said, his excitement palpable. “And the races! I can see it now—whoever can crawl the fastest to the toy chest wins!”

You giggled, shaking your head at the image of tiny feet scurrying across the floor, driven by the competitive spirit of their father. “They’ll probably inherit your need for speed.”

Lando pretended to be offended, clutching his heart dramatically. “How dare you! I think I’m quite well-rounded.”

“Sure,” you teased, leaning closer to him. “A little too well-rounded sometimes, if you catch my drift.”

Lando feigned indignation, his eyes widening comically. “You’re saying I’m lazy?”

You grinned, nudging him playfully. “Not lazy, just… well, strategically conserving energy.”

“Strategically conserving energy, huh?” he replied, laughter bubbling up in his chest. “I’ll accept that.”

Just then, the baby began to stir again, letting out a soft coo as he blinked his eyes open. Lando’s attention immediately shifted to him, his expression transforming into one of pure adoration. “Hey there, buddy!” he said softly, leaning in closer to the baby. “Did we wake you?”

The baby responded with a wide yawn, stretching his tiny limbs and squirming a little. You exchanged amused glances with Lando, both of you enchanted by the little one’s antics.

“Looks like he’s ready for some fun,” Lando said, scooting back against the headboard and inviting you to join him. You moved carefully, bringing the baby up to sit between you, cradled by your arms.

As you settled in, Lando began to make silly faces, exaggerating his expressions until the baby let out a delighted squeal. “See? He thinks I’m hilarious!” Lando beamed, puffing up his chest as if he had just performed a great feat.

“Maybe he just thinks you look funny,” you retorted playfully, but your heart melted at the sight of Lando completely engaged, his laughter ringing through the room.

You spent the next little while playing with the baby, taking turns making silly noises and watching as he responded with giggles and bright smiles. Each time he let out a laugh, Lando’s face lit up with pure joy, and you couldn’t help but feel the warmth spreading through your chest.

After a while, the baby grew sleepy again, his eyelids drooping as he nestled back against your chest. You gently rocked him, humming a soft lullaby that came to mind. Lando leaned against you, his fingers brushing against your arm as he watched the scene unfold.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a low whisper. “You’re going to be an incredible mom.”

You felt the warmth bloom in your cheeks, your heart racing at his words. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, his gaze steady. “You have this amazing ability to make everything feel safe and loved. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a mom.”

“Lando…” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you struggled to keep the emotion at bay. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is easy,” he said, a hint of seriousness creeping into his tone. “When you love someone, it’s easy to give everything for them.” He paused, his gaze shifting to the baby, who was now peacefully asleep in your arms. “And I can’t think of anyone I’d rather share that with.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice leaving you breathless. In that moment, wrapped up in a blanket with Lando and the baby, you felt a surge of hope for the future, an understanding that this—this little family you had formed—was just the beginning.

“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling a rush of affection for him.

“Anytime,” he replied, leaning over to place a soft kiss on your cheek. “Now, let’s see if we can keep this little one asleep for a little longer. I could use a few more minutes of lazy morning bliss with you.”

You smiled, your heart full as you both settled in, cocooned in warmth and love. Time slipped away, and the world outside faded as you enjoyed the simplicity of the moment—the laughter, the joy, and the shared dreams for a future that felt brighter than ever.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a gentle glow over the room, you felt that today was a day to remember. A day that promised adventure, laughter, and the sweet joy of simply being together. With Lando by your side, and a tiny bundle of joy nestled between you, you couldn’t help but feel that the best was yet to come.

The morning stretched on like the most beautiful dream, and for now, everything felt perfect.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

*:･ﾟtags;@spookbusters-jr

[mywritersmind]

hellooooooo! I read yell and flight and let me tell u I was HOOKED. I cannot get fran off my mind the way this man is!!! It’s driving me wild and it’s barely been abt a week or two seeing him all over my socials👩🏻‍🦯‍➡️ I was wondering if you are still taking reqs obviously for fran? I know deep down in my bones that this man is so clingy like physically so maybe like him hugging the reader a lot like alot all the time, like long cuddle sessions just talking abt life?

xxxxxxx thx in advance

SEVEN TIMES WHEN FRANCO COULDN'T KEEP HIS HANDS TO HIMSELF - FC43

listen up : no warnings just some kissing!! this is cute so i hope you enjoy <3 franco x girlfriend!reader

word count : 1249

⋆｡‧˚⋆

When I first started dating Franco, it was obvious that his love language was physical touch. Back then however, I didn’t know how much he depended on it.

⋆༺

1. I’ve never been more excited for Franco than I was at that first race in Monza. As soon as I could, I ran to him.

He was still in his race suit, grinning that stupid smile that I so love. He was sweaty and gross and I couldn’t be happier.

“Corazón…” He wrapped his arms around me, resting his head on my shoulder even as I jumped up and down.

“I’m so proud of you!” I pulled him tighter, his curls brushing my face. “That was so sick!” I pushed him back to move my hands while I spoke but his hand stayed on my waist.

He let me recount his own race back to him as he just stared at me dreamily, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He laughed and pulled me in again, kissing me this time.

People cheered and whistled as I smiled against Franco’s lips. He kept that same hand on me all day, holding me close as if the two hours he was racing for was time lost for us.

He never cared who was watching, as long as I was in his arms, nothing else mattered.

⋆༺

2. “Let’s stay here.” He mumbled into my skin, laying completely on top of me with his face on my stomach.

I laughed, running my hands through his hair, “We have to go Fran… You were the one who said we would!” He frowned up at me when I took my hands from his hair.

I slipped my hands back through his waves and he smiled happily again, wrapping his arms tighter around my waist.

I look at his arms flexing against me, “Darling…”

He frowned up at me again, making me laugh and having to physically push him off of me, “Ay no…” He groaned as I stood, smoothing out my skirt.

“Come on!” I had to walk out the door just to get Franco out of the room.

⋆༺

3. We were at a charity gala and I felt like a genuine magnet. A magnet that only attracts Franco's hands. I smirked at him, “Like what you see?” I spun around in my red dress that hit right before my black heels, his hands staying on me as I turned around.

His gaze dragged up my body, nodding silently. Franco is never silent. He gave my waist a little squeeze before kissing my cheek and pulling me into his side.

The whole night, the only time he left my side was when I went to the restroom. He was waiting with drinks when I got back, I can’t help but smile at his stupid face that looks way too happy to be buying things for me.

We ended up talking to Lando and his date, she was definitely a model and honestly I don’t know if he even knew her name. When the girl left, Lando eyed us both, “You’re making me look bad!” He ran his hand through his curls as I rested my head on Franco’s shoulder.

“Not my fault that you don’t like your date!” Franco argued and Lando pulled his lips into a thin line.

“I like her just fine! You two are just disgustingly affectionate.”

⋆༺

4. “I’m just having a hard time, Franco!” I sat on the couch, my head in my hands. We’d been fighting like this for an hour and getting nowhere.

He paced in front of me, turning to me and placing his hand on my chin so I would look up.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered as tears ran down my face, sinking to his knees, “I’m so sorry… I know you though. You can get through this.” His hands moved up the outside of my thighs, holding me tight like he always does.

⋆༺

5. I could practically feel Franco’s gaze burning a hole into the man across from me’s head.

He started over to us as soon as he saw the man take a step closer. He cleared his throat, placing his hand on the small of my back as he smiled at the man.

Franco leaned closer to me and the man left in an instant. I smiled softly at him, raising a brow, “Possessive, much?”

He sipped his drink, “With you? Always.”

⋆༺

6. “You look delicious.” I laugh out loud as he says it in my ear, I turn and swat his chest. The club music was loud and the lights were even brighter.

“Franco.” He knows he’s gotten to me, a smirk prominently on his face as he takes my hand in his and pulls me gently out of the crowd.

We make it to the bathroom, one stall, before Franco has his hands on my ass and his mouth on mine. “Needy.” I mumbled into his mouth.

“No shit, have you seen yourself?” I laughed as he pushed me up against the wall, his hand slipping below the hem of my blue dress.

He slips his tongue in my mouth, cupping my face and holding onto my waist tightly. I sometimes forget he’s an actual athlete until he brings his strength into the bedroom. Or in this case… the club bathroom.

⋆༺

7. Franco sat between my legs, my hands in his hair as he intently listened to the football match that was playing.

He's talking about some of the players but I'm busy braiding his hair which is quite hard given the length.

He moved his hands away from his water bottle that he was fidgeting with, playing them on my ankles and making me shiver. His touch is effortless and sometimes I think he doesn’t even realize because he was definitely focused on the game.

His hands slid upwards, brushing over my calf then back down. He repeated this for five minutes until I finished with his partially braided hair.

The game was still playing as he slid his fingers up my legs once more, making me shiver. He didn’t even realize until I pushed my hands over his and his head leaned back to look at me.

He smiled and kissed my hand, turning around and kneeling in front of me.

I watched his muscles move as he extended his arms to wrap around my waist. He looked up at me, his green eyes shining while his hair looked like a mess. “Are you excited for today?” We were in his drivers room, his suit unzipped.

“Yes. Because you’re here.” His hand rubbed against my face softly, like he wanted to memorize every part of me.

“Do you get nervous?”

“Of course. I don’t want to mess up when you’re were.” I frowned at his words, caressing his neck.

“I don’t care what you do, love… as long as you’re safe.” He sighed and laid his head on my knees.

“You that worried?” I nodded. “I don’t want you to be.”

“Well I’m your girlfriend and it’s my job because you chose a job where your life is in danger every weekend.” He laughed at my sarcastic tone, shaking his head and kissing my knee.

“I like that you care. But I promise you corazón, you cannot get rid of me that easily.” He kissed me softly, I kissed him back.

[shrimpybbq]

a meeting with the in-laws

anon: high school gf's parents coming back after they've kicked her out once the baby's born and demanding to see their “baby" and it's a whole scene

It had been three days since the newest Cameron had arrived into the world, the small baby boy kicking and screaming like a true warrior. A coked-up Rafe swore he had never seen anything so perfect as when he saw his own little boy clutched tightly within his mother’s arms, his sweet red cheeks chubby and full of life. It had taken some convincing but soon Rafe had his son against his bare chest as he softly stroked at the wisps of hair atop his head. He sat by his sleeping girlfriend’s side, quietly cooing to his son. There in that room lay his whole world, and it was then and there that Rafe made a promise to himself: no-one would hurt either of them for as long as he lived.

Rafe found his first opponents rather quickly. The small family returned to Tannyhill on the third day and began to settle back into the house, bringing their son up to the nursery they had spent hours painting. Rafe had wanted to hire someone to paint the images on the wall but had begrudgingly agreed to help his girlfriend paint them herself when she began tearing up in front of him. They had decided on a space themed nursery after Sarah suggested it. As they settled the sleeping boy in his cot, a loud knock echoed across the property. The new parents ignored it, only to hear mumbled voices from the foyer grow louder and louder. It was with a start that Rafe looked up, his bicep being clutched tightly.

“My parents…they’re here!” she whispered anxiously, her eyes widening as she looked up at him for help, “they told me that I was dead to them Rafe!”

Rafe looked at his sweet girl, taking her into his arms as she began to tremble, hands running soothingly over her back. “Hey, it’s ok. It’s gonna be ok, alright? You’ve got me here and I-I’m not gonna let them treat you like shit, ok,” he muttered. Rafe watched her pull away from him slowly, giving him a small nod as she wiped away the tears that had managed to spill over. He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head and whispered encouragingly “you can do this, baby.”

As they made their way down the stairs, it was clear that the Cameron’s did not take kindly to the familiar family standing in their living room. Rafe and Sarah were the two most obvious in their distaste, each wearing matching grimaces and glares. They both watched as her mother immediately ran to hug her daughter,

“Oh sweetie, there you are! My baby all grown up with her own baby - oh I’m so proud of you.”

Rafe watched as his girlfriend stood stiffly in her arms, a distraught expression crossing her face at the words. He couldn’t help but grit his teeth - he had watched as she cried for weeks after her parents kicked her out, her heart broken as they refused to answer her calls. They’d removed her existence from their lives for nine months and now here they were, claiming to love her again? No, that wouldn’t do, Rafe thought.

“Are you, though?” Rafe bit out. He grinned as all eyes turned sharply to him.

“Of course we are, our daughter has given us a strong and healthy grandchild. Why wouldn’t we be?” Her father asked, his tone filled with a certain menacing quality that both Rafe and Ward picked up on. The former ignored his father’s warning glance as he continued to speak.

“What about when you kicked her out, pregnant and alone with no money? Hmm, yeah I thought you’d remember that,” he spat, watching a flicker of shame cross the older woman’s face.

“Rafe that’s en-”

“No, come on Dad, you saw what they did to her, to my son. They didn’t give a shit until he was born, isn’t that right?”

All in the room stood in silence as the tension became so thick it could swallow them whole. It was only the audacity of her father that shattered the silence, “we want to see him.”

Fuck no, Rafe thought. He watched as his girlfriend scampered to his side, her eyes looking up at him pleading. They’d spoken often about her parents and had come to an agreement to keep them away from their family, not trusting their intentions should they come back. Almost imperceptibly, Rafe nodded towards her, a firm squeeze to her hip confirming he understood what she wanted.

“No.”

“W-what did you say to me, boy?”

“I said no. You’re not coming near my son, or my girl, now get the fuck off my property, alright?”

Ward looked between his son and the other grandfather, sighing deeply before coming towards his old friend. He spoke lowly, the rest of the room unaware of their words. It was only when both men turned back to the face their children did they speak.

“You must be very overwhelmed with all those hormones right now, sweetheart. You aren’t in your right mind,” Rafe heard her father say, fists clenching at the audacity he had, “we will come and see you next week. Maybe you could be alone next time.”

The Cameron’s wordlessly watched as Ward escorted her family to their cars. They turned back to see Rafe comforting his girlfriend, her head buried into his chest as she sobbed. Rafe stood there as his blood rushed through his body, his heart pumping rapidly in his chest. This was his first experience being a parent - of feeling a sense of unwavering protectiveness come over him. He knew then that his promise to himself in that hospital chair would never be broken, for he would do everything in his power to keep his family safe. No one would ever hurt them, and as he slowly walked his sweet crying girl back to the nursery, he knew he would kill to keep them safe.

[lovemomhatepolice]

slice of paradise - lando norris

navigation taglist requests

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, p in v, blowjob, handjob, unprotected sex! (protect yourself), slight!public sex, English is my second language!

type: smut with the plot, fluff also

word count: 3,5k

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER

summary: moments in paradise on Lando's 25th birthday turn out to be even hotter than the weather in Bora Bora

more content: formula 1 masterlist, lando norris masterlist, latest lando's one-shot

The gentle golden rays of the morning sun streamed in through the open balcony door, casting a soft glow across the room. The sound of waves rhythmically crashing on the shore filled the air, mingling with the smell of the salty ocean breeze. Lando slowly woke up, blinking and looking at his surroundings. They had arrived in Bora Bora last night, and aside from eating the dinner the girl had ordered especially for a pre-birthday surprise, they had no energy for more activity and simply went to sleep. The flight from England had exhausted them both enough.

Lando blinked a few more times, letting his eyes get used to the light coming into their room, through the fact that they had not closed the curtains yesterday. He could hear the soft rustling of palm trees outside and the faint chirping of distant birds greeting the new day. For a while he just lay there, savoring the sound of the ocean and the softness of the bed beneath him. His gaze fell to his side, where his girlfriend lay snuggled into him, breathing quietly and rhythmically. The boy smiled to himself and placed a kiss on her head. He didn't want to wake her up, but, as usual, that didn't work out, and just a moment later he could see her eyes gazing lazily but happily into his blue irises.

"Morning" he said, smiling from ear to ear.

She blinked sleepily before her gaze settled on Lando, a sleepy smile spreading across her lips. “Good morning,” she whispered, her voice still husky with sleep. “Happy birthday, baby.”

“Thanks, love,” he replied, leaning in to brush a soft kiss on her forehead. “I couldn’t have asked for a better start to my day.”

“All the best for you,” muttered the girl, lightly moving towards him and kissing him on the lips.

Smiling, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him so that she was now sitting on his lap. Lando held her firmly but gently around the waist so she wouldn't fall, and rubbed his palms against her sides. “Thank you for this.”

“You don't have anything to thank me for yet, Lan” the girl said stroking his bare chest. “The day has just begun”

The couple spent an even longer moment in bed, laughing and talking to each other about the silliest little things. Lando couldn't stop admiring her; even with tumbled hair and sleepy eyes, she was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. And while Bora Bora had delighted him like no other landscape before, she took his breath away every time.

The girl leaned in to kiss him, gently stroking his jaw, which was covered with a small stubble. Lando felt that he could stay in bed all day because of this, and it would still be the best birthday of his life. However, his girlfriend had other plans and got out of bed, leaving her boyfriend groaning, not wanting her to leave him. Or at least not so soon.

“Wait,” she said, standing at the door in just her underwear shirt. “We'll start the surprises.”

Lando merely nodded and lay back on the pillows, listening to the sounds that came from the kitchen. It wasn't long until the girl came back into the room again. In her hand was a large tray with a bowl of fruit, freshly baked croissants and orange juices. Lando only smiled under his breath at this. Never before had anyone brought him breakfast in bed.

“Will you close your eyes?” the girl asked, putting the tray down on the bedside table.

“What for?” asked the boy dumbfoundedly, looking at his girlfriend.

But who would he be if he didn't do what she asked? He certainly wouldn't be himself. Therefore, just a moment later, he closed his eyes, smiling under his breath to himself.

[Y.N] didn't wait a moment and grabbed a small cake with “25” candles in her hand and walked back into their shared bedroom, singing “Happy Birthday.” Lando immediately opened his eyes and laughed out loud.

“You're spoiling me,” he teased as she climbed back into bed next to him. “But I'm not complaining.”

“Make a wish, birthday boy.”

Lando pretended to ponder the wish for a long moment, but it was not true at all. He had everything he wanted. A beautiful woman by his side who loved him beyond life. A second place in the drivers' championship, which was still a mystery as to how it would end. And he also had temporary peace of mind, which he regained after a long battle with his own psyche. So he just closed his eyes, blowing out the candles, and a smile crept onto his lips.

“What was your wish?” the girl asked, carefully removing the candles from the cake.

“I can't say, because it won't come true,” Lando laughed and scooped some cream onto his finger, tasting it. “Mm, did you bake it yourself?”

“No, not this time,” she replied, pounting slightly. “It wouldn't have survived the trip.”

“It's ok, it's good too,” he said, pulling her closer to him. He grabbed a fork in his hand, which was lying next to cake on a plate, and scooped up some on it. “Would you like to try?”

“Yup, we'll see if it tastes as good as it looks.”

Lando merely nodded and put the fork in her mouth. As the girl savored the chocolate taste of the cake, Lando dipped the fork into the cake again, but this time it landed on the girl's nose. Accidentally, of course.

“Oops?”

“Lando!” she laughed, but before she could wipe the cream off her nose, the boy did it for her.

“Oh, I think you're still dirty here,” he muttered, touching her lips with his thumb.

“Oh, really?” she asked teasingly. “And what are we going to do about it?”

“I think I have an idea,” Lando said, putting the cake back on the nightstand.

[Y.N] looked adoringly at her boyfriend. Lando looked even better than usual in this light. The golden rays of the sun that streamed into their room perfectly illuminated his year-tanned figure. There was a glow reflected in his eyes, and the girl could have sworn that for the first time in a long time she saw such peace in them. He was in just his boxers, because that was the most comfortable way for him to sleep, and his curls in a freshly cut mullet lay in every direction. But that was the most beautiful thing about that moment, that's what she wanted to give him from the beginning when she thought about what she could organize for his birthday. Tranquility and privacy, the things he missed most.

“Are you enjoying what you're looking at?” Lando laughed, correcting himself slightly in his position.

“You don't even know how much.”

The couple smiled at each other, and just a moment later Lando landed in the girl's embrace. [Y.N] hold him by the neck, hugging him tightly to herself. And Lando hovered over her, holding her around the waist, then by her hips. The laughs and kisses were endless. In the end, it could only be them…

~~ After breakfast, they wasted no time. They quickly changed into bathing suits and took the most necessary things with them to the beach, which was right next to their cottage. And most importantly, it was private and no human being could see them from a distance of a several dozen kilometers.

Lando stood up to his knees in the turquoise water, with the waves crashing against his legs. He sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of the sun on his skin and the soothing sound of the ocean. He could have sworn that he could have sat in the water all day and wouldn't have been bored at all.

“Do you like it?” asked [Y.N], suddenly joining him in the water.

“Yes, it's perfect,” he muttered, turning to face her. “Come on, let's cool off a bit.”

Lando began to swim further away from the shore, followed by [Y.N]. The water was perfect. Not only was it just the right temperature after a long sunbath, it was also a beautiful color through which you could see the bottom. As they waded deeper, the gentle waves lapped at their bodies.

“It's so beautiful here,” the girl muttered, swimming up to Lando.

[Y.N] put her hands on his shoulders, and without hesitation he pulled her to him by the waist. Lando couldn't take his eyes off her; she looked like a goddess, her smile brighter than the sun. With a grin, he suddenly scooped her up into his arms, wrapping her legs around his hips.

“And what do you plan to do now that you’ve got me?”

Lando’s grip tightened around her, his fingers pressing into the curve of her back. “I think I’ll keep you here for a bit,” he murmured, his voice a mix of playful and husky as he dipped his head to kiss her shoulder, trailing soft kisses up her neck. [Y.N]'s breath hitched, her fingers tangling in his hair as he continued his slow kisses, each one leaving a trail of heat on her skin.

They stayed like that for a moment, lost in each other, until [Y.N] pulled back with a playful glint in her eyes. “Catch me if you can!” she declared before wriggling out of his grasp and splashing away.

Lando laughed, momentarily stunned, but the challenge in her voice spurred him on. “You won't get away that easily! - he called out, sprinting after her as she rushed down the beach. The sand was hot under his feet, but he barely noticed, focusing entirely on the girl in front of him.

The girl was fast, but she couldn't beat her boyfriend, not in speed. Within seconds Lando caught up with her and they both collapsed on the soft sand. Out of breath and laughing, they rolled in the sand for a while, like children.

“You catch me,” she said between sighs, with her cheeks flushed and her eyes shining with joy.

“I always have and I always will.” - He replied, leaning in to kiss her.

This time the kiss was slower, deeper, as if time had no meaning there. The girl's hands slid into his damp hair, gently tugging at the ends as she arched her back, pressing their bodies closer together.

Lando's hands roamed her body, feeling the warmth of her sun-moistened skin under his fingertips. He slipped one of his hands under her bathing suit and clamped his palm over her breast, teasing an already hard nipple. The girl purred into his mouth, apparently asking for more.

“You're so beautiful,” whispered Lando, his voice muffled by her greedy mouth.

She didn't want to pull away from him, finally having him all to herself. Without the nitty-gritty world of the media and the fight for the Championship. Here he was simply Lando, not Lando Norris the Mclaren driver. And while she loved every version of him, the domestic one was her favorite.

The girl let out a quiet moan as his lips descended on her neck. He kissed and nibbled at the places he knew were most sensitive to her. Her fingers tightened again on his hair as she tilted her head back, giving him better access.

“Lando…” she breathed, her voice barely exceeding a whisper. “I want you…”

“Here? - He teased her. “Someone could see it.”

“It's a good thing we're alone then.” - She replied with a smile. “I booked this place for a reason.”

“Clever beast,” he laughed under his breath.

“Mhm,” she whispered, bringing their lips together again. “It's your birthday, so you'll be spoiled.”

Before Lando had time to respond the girl turned them around so that now it was the boy who was lying with his back on the sand. He laughed under his breath and propped his head up with his hands, leaning on them.

With the utmost fierceness, she touched his dick through his swim trunks, at which the boy sighed and drew her close, bringing their lips together in a clumsy kiss. [Y.N] palmed him through his shorts, sliding her hand under them. Lando was already hard, he didn't need much when she was next to him. “Already hard, all for me,” she muttered into his lips and moved away from him. She placed kisses all over his warm chest, which at that moment was terribly heated from the sun. And Lando did not take his eyes off her. Until her lips kissed his length through his shorts. Then involuntarily his head flew back, and he let out an impatient moan. [Y.N] didn't keep him in suspense for long and practically immediately took off the unnecessary clothes and momentarily moved her hand over his cock, while kissing him gently there. “I'm begging you,” he muttered, pushing his hips out slightly to meet her. "No teasing" “Wait, birthday boy, I want to give you as much pleasure as possible,” she muttered at his tip, which was already dripping with pre cum. Lando didn't have to ask for long. Her lips were immediately on his, showering him with kisses. As she teased him with her hand, she placed tender kisses on his inner thighs. But today she didn't want to tease him, not on his birthday.

She immediately returned to his length, taking him all the way into her mouth. Her lip gloss left shiny traces on him, but no one seemed to mind. Lando was a groaning mess beneath her and thanked the gods that no one can hear or saw them.

“Fuck, [Y.N]” he groaned, combing her hair gently. The girl continued sucking on his hard member, her tongue moving nimbly, testing his cum. She bobbed her head up and down, varying the speed so as to give him as much pleasure as possible. Her hands quickly found a place - one on his testicles and the other holding his hand.

She knew he was close. She could feel it when his dick began to pulsate pleasantly in her mouth as she sucked harder on it. Lando didn't give much thought to it either as he just stroked her hair, and only her name fell out of his mouth like a mantra. He wasn't ashamed of it, he knew who made him feel as good as he never had in his life, and he wanted her to know too. “Cum for me pretty boy,” she whispered, sucking him. She looked at him from under her long lashes and their gazes met. And here Lando was lost. In the blink of an eye, the girl felt his cum in her throat and mouth, which filled it completely. The girl swallowed it all and suck him for a while longer to help him come down from his orgasm. “Fuck, that was so good,” Lando muttered and pulled his girl to him, unhesitatingly connecting their lips. The kiss was hot, full of passion. Their hands roamed the other's body. Lando didn’t wait any longer and began to remove her bikini, which was then even more unnecessary than usual. He changed their position so that now he was on top of her, supporting himself with his hands on the sand next to her body. “I guess it's my turn now, huh?” he murmured into her mouth and was already about to descend, but [Y.N] stopped him. “I don't need it, it's enough for me when you're inside me,” she kissed him, nipping on his lip.

"You sure?" he asked, looking at her.

The girl only nodded, smiling encouragingly at him. They were both already out of breath and damn near overheated, but they didn't want to leave this beach for anything.

As if on cue, Lando moved his member closer to her, teasing her pussy with his tip. Their liquids mingled together, to which the boy moaned, being offered this sight. Oh, she was the whole world to him. And when they were together, the rest of the world might not have existed at all. Lando positioned himself with his dick at the entrance [Y.N] and slowly but smoothly entered her, feeling the familiar warmth around his member. They both moaned, getting used to the feeling. They hadn't made love to each other in quite a while due to lack of time, so this was even more sensual and desired. “You're perfect,” he muttered, moving his hips more and more smoothly. His movements were precise, he knew exactly what was most pleasurable for them. He knew her body like no one else. And he could swear he knew it better than his own, or at least he wanted to know it more. “Lando,” she moaned, extending her hands to him. The boy immediately fell into her embrace, changing the angle at which they were now having sex. And it was even better for them, because every time Lando hit that right spot. His hand tangled in her hair, while the other touched her clit to give her even more pleasure. [Y.N] hugged his neck with one hand, and with the other she played with her nipples, which at that moment were all hard. Their lips met in a searing kiss, every now and then separated by their moans and smiles. Lando felt that they were close, so he sped up even more, and the girl pushed her hips toward him. At that moment, they loved each other harder than ever. They were both hot from the sun, breathless, and their hair looked like the biggest tussle. Their bodies were merging together at a dizzying pace, making a bloody mess all around. But they didn't give a damn. They didn't give a damn what was going on behind their backs. In their apartment. Among the fans or other drivers. It was their time, and they would give anything to keep it that way forever. Without the slightest change.

"You're taking me so well, like always" he murmured against her lips, smiling cheeky.

Lando's words and their gazes meeting again accelerated the orgasm from which they were only seconds away. The pressure inside them grew with every second, and they just snuggled into each other, smiling like fools. Lando pressed her clit harder and with his thumb rubbed it properly as she needed. “You are so good to me,” the girl muttered, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I love you so much,” Lando said, smacking her a few times on the lips. And with that, they both came. Their bodies were pierced by the jolt of orgasm, and Lando continued to move inside her, letting all the cum stay inside. And then he sank down on top of her, trying to do it as gently as possible. He kissed her sensitive breasts, which had not received enough attention from him during intercourse. And [Y.N] stroked his back, drawing slight marks. “You know I couldn't have imagined a better birthday?” Lando whispered, pulling slightly away from her chest to look into her eyes. Their gazes met again in that gaze that only they knew. And which was reserved for just the two of them. All that could be heard in the background were seagulls and waves crashing on the shore. The air was filled with the sea breeze and the smell of colorful flowers that grew somewhere nearby. “Well, maybe they would be even better if there were three of us here,” he muttered again, looking deeper into her eyes. They both knew he spoke sincerely. That's what they both wanted, too - to start a family, to relax a bit in a homey corner of their Monaco's apartment. No chasing, just them and the fruit of their love.

And what was their surprise when a month later [Y.N] discovered two lines on her pregnancy test before New Year's Eve...

Well, the wish seems to have come true?

[TO BE CONTINUED]

A/N: I guess it didn't turn out so bad, right? happy birthday to our pretty boy landhinio!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴛ ʏ ʀ ᴀ ɴ ᴛ ⸻

Pairing: Yandere HOTD x Targaryen Reader Part 3

Summary: Alicent was pregnant and now you have a brother... Great between this mess now you have to deal with a child.

Warning: Y/n herself is a warning.

Notes: English is not my first language. Gifs don't belong to me, credit to the owner. Hope you enjoy!

The corridors of the Red Keep felt more stifling than usual as Y/n made her way toward Alicent’s chambers, her father’s summons echoing in her mind. It was laughable, truly. After all, why would she, of all people, care to see this child—a replacement, a crude shadow of what should have been her true brother, born to her beloved mother?

When she arrived, Rhaenyra was already there, standing near the bed where Alicent lay cradling the newborn. Rhaenyra’s face twisted briefly as she took in the sight, her discomfort poorly veiled. Y/n caught her sister’s eye just before Rhaenyra turned and, with a cold glance, left the room, practically fleeing. Smart, Y/n thought, suppressing a smile. She could almost admire her sister’s decisiveness. She, however, would stay. There was something strangely… satisfying in seeing Alicent lying there, pale and weak, her hair clinging to her forehead with sweat, her whole appearance a fragile mess. She look miserable.

“Y/n, my daughter,” her father’s voice cut into her thoughts. “Won’t you come closer?”

She looked up at him, feeling that familiar pang of resentment, but she crossed the room slowly, each step heavy with her reluctance. Alicent looked at her with a forced smile, and Y/n barely resisted rolling her eyes. Her father gestured for her to approach even closer.

“Come,” he said, a faint hint of warmth in his tone. “Look at your brother.”

Y/n’s face twisted involuntarily, her lips pulling back in thinly veiled disgust. Brother? She didn’t see any reason to indulge in this charade. But, as her father’s eyes settled on her, full of an expectation she knew she couldn’t ignore, she sighed and leaned in to peer at the squirming bundle in Alicent’s arms.

The first sight of the child made her flinch. What… in all the Seven Hells is this? The baby’s face was scrunched and red, his tiny hands wriggling pathetically. She could barely suppress her grimace as she looked down at him. Why is it so… ugly? Is this actually what babies look like? Or is it just… this one? She felt a shudder run down her spine, her lips curling as though she’d just seen something grotesque.

“Well?” her father asked, watching her closely. Y/n looked up at him, raising an eyebrow in exasperation, unable to mask her distaste.

Viserys chuckled softly, clearly amused by her reaction. “I thought you’d be excited,” he said, his tone mild but firm. “You always used to talk about naming your little brother, remember?”

"Y/n, what would you name him if he were a boy?" her mother asked, her voice light and playful, a smile dancing on her lips.

Y/n’s face lit up instantly. “Aegon,” she replied, no hesitation.

Aemma’s laughter was a gentle chime, full of love, as she tilted her head back, clearly charmed. "Aegon, hmm?" she repeated, her voice tender and a little amused. “A strong name—he would grow into it, I think.”

The response made Y/n puff up with pride. She let her hand rest over Aemma’s belly, pressing gently as though she could feel the baby within, envisioning a strong little boy who would one day grow up by her side, someone she would protect fiercely. In that moment, she felt certain she would love him more than anyone else.

Aemma leaned down and kissed Y/n’s forehead, stroking her cheek with soft fingers. “I think he would love you very much,” she murmured, her voice filled with a sweetness that warmed Y/n’s heart. “He would look up to you, my little girl.”

He was supposed to be my brother, Mother’s son… Not this. Not this… thing.

Her throat tightened, the painful memory clashing with the reality in front of her. Swallowing, she whispered, almost to herself, “…Aegon.” The name hung in the air, soft and sorrowful. She barely noticed as the baby’s eyes blinked open at the sound, a pair of startlingly bright, clear eyes—like polished jewels, unexpectedly beautiful in the midst of his otherwise unimpressive appearance.

But she felt nothing, no stir of affection or tenderness. The past had stayed buried until now, and she would not dig it up for this stranger. She pulled back, letting the revulsion return to harden her expression.

“Well, congratulations, Father,” she said, her voice back to its usual detached tone. She cast a long, deliberate glance at Alicent, her lips twitching with barely concealed disdain, before turning and striding toward the door.

As she left the room, she could still feel the ghostly twinge of her mother’s memory, lingering like a bad taste. Aegon, she thought bitterly, her fingers twitching in irritation. She could still feel the faint ache of holding onto that name, the name meant for a brother she had wanted.

Once she was back in her own chambers, she called for Elira. “Prepare me a bath,” she ordered, brushing a faint trace of blood from her fingers. “I need to wash off… whatever that was.” The sight of that child had left her feeling unclean, tainted by the memory and the reality. She sank into the hot water a moment later, letting the heat and steam blur the remnants of the day’s distaste.

As she sank deeper into the bath, she sighed, watching the water ripple around her. But no amount of scrubbing would erase that memory or the sour feeling twisting in her chest.

Y/n walked through the Red Keep's sunlit corridors, her pale skirts sweeping the stone floors, the soft chittering of her monkey filling the silence. The little creature perched on her shoulder, its curious eyes darting around, occasionally reaching out to tug on a stray strand of her silver hair. She reached up absently to scratch behind its ear, murmuring, “You’re a clever little thing, aren’t you?”

The monkey blinked at her, tilting its head as though in agreement. Y/n allowed herself a small smile. A gift from Daemon. Her uncle’s face flickered in her mind, sharp and knowing. He’d always had a knack for giving her things that felt… personal, even if she doubted it at times. Where is he now? she wondered, a pang of curiosity laced with longing. He had always been unpredictable, always vanishing just when she began to feel comfortable. I hope he’s well… or at least happy with himself.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a faint tug on her skirt. She stopped mid-step, frowning, and glanced down. There it was: that ugly thing. looked up at her with wide, unsteady eyes, his chubby hands still gripping the fabric of her dress.

“What do you want now?” she muttered, pulling her skirt away sharply. She stepped forward, expecting him to let go, but he didn’t. Instead, he tottered after her, his tiny legs wobbling as he reached for her again.

“Ya—Ya—” he babbled, his mouth struggling to form the syllables of her name.

She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, “Annoying little pest.” She continued walking, but he followed, his persistent baby babble echoing down the hall. His voice softened slightly, and then, clear as the bells of the Sept, she heard it:

“S-Sis…ter.”

She froze in place, her foot hovering above the first step of the grand staircase. Slowly, she turned to look down at him. His face was lit up with a bright, toothy smile, his tiny hands reaching for her skirt again as he repeated, “Sis...t-ter!”

Her eyes widened. Did he just say that? Her heart fluttered in an unfamiliar way, something small and sharp lodging itself deep in her chest. She stared at him, stunned, as he laughed again, his babyish giggles bubbling up like spring water.

“Do you want to ride on Syrax with me, sister?”

“Can you stay, sister? I feel lonely…”

“Don't worry sister, I will never leave you.”

“I love you, sister.”

Her throat tightened. The warmth of those memories twisted into something cold, a painful ache she could neither name nor shake. She felt herself soften, just slightly, as she gazed down at Aegon. So small, so innocent. A smile, faint and almost tender, touched her lips. “Aww,” she cooed softly, crouching down to his level. “You called me sister…”

Her hand reached out, gently brushing against his silver hair. He giggled again, his tiny hands batting at her fingers. For a moment, the warmth lingered, a fragile thread of something like affection.

She stared down at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. What a silly cute rat.

Before she could stop herself—before she even wanted to—she pushed him.

Aegon’s tiny body flew forward, tumbling down the stairs. His small arms flailed helplessly, his head bouncing off the stone steps with a sickening crack. His body twisted and rolled, limp and lifeless, until he finally hit the bottom with a heavy thud.

Y/n stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at the bloody mess below.

She tilted her head, a smile slowly spreading across her face. Is he dead? She wasn’t sure. Didn’t really care. The blood pooled around his little head, and for a moment, she thought he might be.

She didn’t move. Just stood there, watching. It was… amusing. Like watching a bug squirm after being squashed.

After a moment, she began to walk down the steps, her footsteps slow and deliberate. When she reached the bottom, she crouched beside his crumpled form, her eyes scanning the blood and the broken limbs. He wasn’t moving. His little chest wasn’t rising.

She leaned in close, her face hovering just above his.

“Are you still alive?” she whispered, her tone almost curious. She poked at his arm, but there was no response.

She smiled. Oh, well. If he was dead, he was dead. If not… well, that didn’t matter either.

Just as she was about to stand, she noticed a faint, shallow breath escape his lips.

“Oh, you’re alive,” she murmured, sounding more bored than surprised.

She stood up, dusting off her dress as the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the hall. The maids rushed over, their faces pale with horror as they saw Aegon’s broken body lying at the foot of the stairs.

“Oh gods, what happened?” one of them gasped, falling to her knees beside him. “Someone fetch the maester!”

Y/n just watched, her expression flat. One of the maids glanced up at her, her eyes wide with shock.

“He fell, nothing to be worry about.” Y/n said simply, her voice devoid of any emotion. She could be careless.

Y/n stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest. She watched, her expression soft, as they lifted him and hurried away, calling for the maesters.

As they disappeared down the corridor, she turned away, a slight smile curling her lips. So much fuss over a little fall.

She turned and walked in the opposite direction, her mind already moving on to something else.

Aegon was just a pest. A nuisance. A stray animal that had wandered into her path.

Whether he lived or died, it didn’t matter.

It never mattered.

Y/n sat in her chamber, the evening sunlight streaming in through the large arched windows, illuminating her collection of jewelry spread out across her vanity. Rings, necklaces, and bracelets, all glittering in gold and adorned with rubies and emeralds, caught her eye as she lazily picked one up after another, holding them against her neck to see how they looked. She glanced at her reflection, tilting her head slightly, her pale hair cascading over her shoulders. Perfect as always, she thought, fastening a necklace with a smirk.

Her peaceful vanity session was interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps outside her chamber, followed by a sharp knock on the door. She sighed. What now?

“Princess,” a servant called from the other side. “The king has summoned you.”

Her smirk faded, replaced by a slight scowl. This better be good.

When Y/n entered the room, the tension was palpable. Alicent stood to the side, her face streaked with tears. Otto loomed next to her, his expression dark and accusing. Rhaenyra was there too, standing stiffly, her eyes flicking between their father and Alicent. Maids huddled in the background, visibly uncomfortable, whispering among themselves. Her father, Viserys, was pacing, his face red with anger. Ah it's about that thing isn't it?

The second he saw her, his finger shot out, trembling with rage. “Y/n!” he barked. “Did you push your brother down the stairs?!”

Y/n blinked, her expression one of calculated confusion. “What?” she said, her voice calm but laced with just enough disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

Viserys stepped closer, his hand clenching into a fist. “Don’t play games with me, girl! Aegon was found at the bottom of the stairs, and you were seen leaving the scene! Did you do it?!”

For a moment, Y/n simply stared at him, her face blank, before she let out a soft, incredulous laugh. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” she said smoothly. “I didn’t even know Aegon fell.”

Before Viserys could respond, Alicent burst into tears, her voice shrill and filled with accusation. “You did it! I know you did! You just want to see me suffer! You hate me, and that’s why you hurt my son!”

Y/n slowly turned her head toward Alicent, her expression shifting to one of pure disdain. She raised a brow, letting the silence hang for a moment before speaking, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “First,” she began, “I had completely forgotten your son even existed until now. So, congratulations, I suppose, for reminding me of his presence.” She folded her arms, her lip curling slightly. “And second, do you think you’re so important that I would go out of my way to hurt a child just to make you suffer? Who do you think I am?”

“Enough!” Viserys roared, his voice echoing through the chamber. He glared at Y/n, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Just answer the question! Did you push Aegon or not?”

Y/n sighed dramatically, her gaze flicking to Rhaenyra. “Why would I do that?” she said, her tone exasperated. “If anything, Rhaenyra has far more reason to harm him than I do. After all, he’s a danger to her claim to the throne.”

Rhaenyra’s head snapped up, her expression furious. “How dare you—”

“Enough!” Otto interrupted, stepping forward. “The maids saw you, princess. They’ve spoken. They said they saw you push him.”

They wouldn't dare.

Y/n's eyes narrowed slightly, but her face betrayed no fear. Instead, she turned her head slowly toward the maids, her gaze icy. “Is that so?” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “Well, it’s not good to lie. So go on. Tell everyone exactly what you saw.” Her lips curved into a small, taunting smile. “After all, I have nothing to hide.”

The maid who had spoken out visibly paled, her hands trembling as she clutched the hem of her apron. “I-I…” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I saw n-nothing… I saw… nothing.”

Y/n’s smirk widened as she turned back to Alicent, her expression one of triumph. Alicent’s mouth opened as if to argue, but no words came out. Instead, she stood there, shaking with anger, her tears falling faster.

“Well,” Y/n said, turning her attention back to Viserys. “It seems I’ve been falsely accused. Again.” She tilted her head, her voice softening as she spoke to her father.

Viserys pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly trying to maintain his composure. “Y/n…” he began, but she cut him off, her tone turning earnest.

“Father,” she said, her voice softening just enough to sound genuine, “I may not like his mother, but Aegon is my brother. My blood. A Targaryen. I would never do anything to harm our house or you. Surely you know that.”

Viserys stared at her for a long moment, his anger slowly fading into something more weary. He rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a deep sigh. “Go,” he said finally, waving her off. “Just… go.”

Y/n inclined her head, a polite yet triumphant gesture, and turned to leave. As she walked away, the faintest hint of a smile played on her lips.

She can hardly believe what she's hearing. Marriage? Her father, has finally gathered enough balls to declare that she, the most stunning creature in all the Seven Kingdoms, the one every man pines for, is to marry? And to whom, of all people? Jason Lannister. That smug, rotund swine who fancies himself fit to marry a dragon. He’s nothing more than a pig draped in Lannister red, prancing around as if his golden hair and his family's wealth could mask the stench of his arrogance.

Her lips curl with disgust as she eyes Jason standing beside her father, his bloated face gleaming with that ridiculous self-satisfied grin. Jason Lannister? Really? Her mind races. Does father think so lowly of me?

No, this cannot be. She will not be shackled to some pompous, fat fool with no fire in his veins, who has neither her wit nor her beauty. A thousand thoughts swarm her mind like angry hornets. She's a Targaryen—she deserves a dragon, a man with strength and fire, not some Lannister sheep dressed in silk. And, gods be damned, she should have a say in this. Am I not his daughter? Does he think me some meek lamb ready to be led to slaughter?

“I at least deserve a choice,” she spits out, her voice sharp as Valyrian steel, her violet eyes flashing as she meets her father's gaze. “I will not be sold off like some common whore to the highest bidder, to that... thing.” Her voice drips with contempt as she gestures toward Jason, whose smugness falters for a moment.

Viserys sighs, rubbing his temples, clearly exasperated by her defiance. She has rejected every man he's thrown her way, each one sent packing with his tail between his legs. None of them were worthy, none of them could hold her interest for longer than a passing glance.

“It’s time for you to marry,” Viserys says, his tone dangerously low, trying to assert his failing authority. “You’ve already rejected enough suitors. You cannot delay this any longer.”

She laughs, a sharp, mocking sound that fills the room. “And why him? Are there not better men out there, father? Men with some beauty? Perhaps Ser Criston Cole.” she said smirking as her eyes flicking to the knight who stands at the door, his eyes were avoiding her “I would gladly marry him.”

“He’s a knight!” Viesrys snapped, his voice tight with disbelief. “He has vows. He cannot marry you!”

She rolled her eyes, the barely suppressed anger on her tongue, tasting sharp and venomous. “So? That’s not my fault. I don’t care about his vows!” She said it with a defiant sneer, feeling some sort of satisfaction as his shock deepened, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Good.

“Y/n—” Viserys begins, but she cuts him off, her words coming in a flood. “I’m to marry, fine! But to this creature?” Her voice rises with each word. “I deserve a man who looks like a god, who can make my blood run hot—”

“Enough!” Viserys roars, his face red with fury. She pauses, her mouth half-open, momentarily stunned into silence. He breathes heavily, trying to regain control. “You want a choice?” he hisses, and for a fleeting moment, hope blooms in her chest.

“Then choose. Jason Lannister… or your brother Aegon.” His next words strike her like a knife.

What? For a moment, she cannot process it. Did he just say...? Her brother, Aegon? Her mind stutters to a halt. The room seems to grow cold, the air thickening. She stands there, staring at her father, trying to comprehend the madness he just uttered.

Did she hear that right? Her brother Aegon? The boy who’s barely old enough to walk, let alone… marry? For a moment, she’s stunned into silence, the rare taste of shock on her tongue. It’s almost laughable, really. As if those are her only options? As if her father thinks she would actually choose between a lecherous pig and a babe still sucking on his wet nurse's tits?

The room seems to close in, the walls pressing tight around her. She watches Viserys and Jason turn to each other, discussing plans as if she’s no longer even present. As if she’s already chosen Jason. The bastard thinks he has her cornered, that her vanity will force her to choose the Lannister rather than bind herself to a boy not even out of his childhood.

“She’s strong-willed,” Viserys mutters, not bothering to lower his voice. “But with time, she’ll come to appreciate the stability you can offer her.”

Jason snorts, and she wants to claw his eyes out for daring to speak of her as though she’s a horse to be broken. “Oh, I’m sure she’ll learn her place soon enough,” he says, his voice dripping with smug confidence. “A Lannister knows how to handle a fiery wife.”

The audacity. She can barely restrain herself from lunging at him, tearing that pompous grin off his face. But no, she won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her rage. Instead, she lets it simmer inside, her mind racing.

But then it hits her—this is perfect. The corners of her lips twitch into a sly smile.

“Fine,” she says, her voice cutting through their conversation like a knife through flesh. Both men turn to her, blinking as if they’ve forgotten she’s there. She stands tall, her chin lifted, the ghost of a smirk playing on her lips. “I will marry Aegon.”

The look on Viserys’ face is priceless. His expression falls as if she’s slapped him. “What did you just say?” he asks, his voice low, incredulous.

“I said I will marry my brother Aegon,” she repeats, her tone mocking, triumphant. “Are you deaf, father?” She enjoys the way his face crumples, the way Jason's smug smile evaporates into a confused grimace. They did not expect this. They thought her pride, her vanity, would force her to pick Jason.

Did you really think you could corner me, father? she thinks, her eyes gleaming with triumph. You should know better by now.

Jason's face turns red with fury, the realization sinking in that he’s lost his prize. He looks like he’s about to argue, but she cuts him off with a sweet, sickly smile. “It seems you won’t be wedding me, after all, Jason. I suppose you’ll have to settle for some lesser creature.”

And with that, she turns on her heel and sweeps out of the room, leaving her father and that Lannister pig scrambling to piece together what just happened.

Part 1. Part 2.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

[paddockletters]

late-night talkings | oscar piastri

paring: oscar piastri x reader

summary: Late at night, unable to sleep, you and Oscar dive into a heartfelt conversation about racing, the future, and life beyond the track. As memories resurface and dreams unfold, you realize just how much the future holds for both of you.

author's note: first fic with oscarrrr, i hope you liked it .. Well, as I always say... english is not my first language so pardon me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀

It was well past 1 AM, and neither of you could sleep. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, the dim light barely enough to push back the darkness. You lay next to Oscar, staring at the ceiling, each of you lost in your thoughts.

His sigh broke the silence first, and you turned your head slightly to see him lying on his back, eyes heavy with exhaustion yet still wide awake.

“Can’t sleep?” His voice was low, barely a whisper in the stillness of the night.

“Nope,” you replied, a soft smile pulling at your lips. “You?”

Oscar chuckled lightly, running a hand through his messy hair. “Not even close. My mind won’t shut off.”

You shifted closer to him, the blanket sliding down as you propped yourself up on your elbow, looking down at him. “What’s on your mind?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. Instead, he stared at the ceiling, his fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on the back of your hand, a small, comforting gesture.

“Everything,” he finally said, his voice soft. “Racing, the future, us…”

You tilted your head, a small frown forming on your face. “What about us?”

Oscar let out a sigh, his eyes flickering over to meet yours. “I’ve been thinking… about where I want to be in a few years. About what happens after racing. And I don’t know, it’s just been on my mind a lot lately.”

You paused, taking in his words. It wasn’t the first time you had these late-night conversations, but this one felt heavier, more serious.

“What do you see?” you asked softly, your fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead.

He hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. “I see more races, obviously. Hopefully a few wins,” he added with a small smile, but there was something deeper behind it. “But after that... I don’t know. I just know I want you there with me, wherever that is.”

His words settled in your chest, warm and comforting. You remembered a conversation you'd had early in his career, before everything got so intense, before the constant travel, the pressure, the sleepless nights like this one.

It was his rookie season, and everything had been so new—so exhilarating and overwhelming all at once. You were standing in the paddock, watching him from the sidelines as he navigated the chaos of his first race weekend. You could still remember the way his face lit up when he saw you after the race, his excitement bubbling over despite the exhaustion that lined his features.

“I can’t believe this is my life,” he had said, pulling you into a hug. His arms were wrapped tightly around you, his heart still racing from the adrenaline of the day. “I didn’t think I’d make it this far, but here we are.”

“I always knew you would,” you had replied, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. “You were born for this.”

Now, lying next to him in the dark, you couldn’t help but smile at the memory. So much had changed since then, but in many ways, things were still the same. You were still by his side, through the highs and the lows, the wins and the losses. And he was still the same Oscar, even if the weight of the world sometimes rested on his shoulders.

“What about kids?” you asked suddenly, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself. “Do you ever think about that?”

Oscar’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then he laughed, the sound soft and genuine. “You’re really asking me about kids at 2 AM?”

You shrugged, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Why not? You’re the one who brought up the future.”

He sighed, his expression turning thoughtful. “I do think about it sometimes. Not anytime soon, obviously, but... yeah. I could see us with kids one day.”

There was a moment of silence, and then he added with a teasing grin, “They’d have to be faster than me, though. I can’t have slow kids.”

You burst out laughing, playfully swatting his arm. “You and your racing. I swear, you’ll be teaching them to drive before they can even walk.”

Oscar grinned, his eyes lighting up with that mischievous sparkle you loved so much. “Absolutely. I’ll get them in a kart as soon as they’re old enough. Gotta keep the Piastri legacy going.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest only grew. It was moments like this—these small, quiet conversations—that reminded you of why you loved him so much. Despite the craziness of his career, despite the pressure and the constant traveling, he was still the same goofy, thoughtful guy you fell in love with.

“Do you ever wonder what we’d be doing if you weren’t racing?” you asked after a beat of silence.

Oscar turned his head to look at you, his brow furrowing slightly in thought. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “But then I think… this is where we’re supposed to be. I don’t think I’d be happy doing anything else. And I like to think you wouldn’t either.”

You smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’re right. I can’t imagine a life without you doing what you love.”

His hand found yours under the covers, and he squeezed it gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m glad you’re here, you know. I couldn’t do any of this without you.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache in the best way, and you leaned in closer, resting your head on his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The conversation lulled, but the silence was comfortable, filled with unspoken promises and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. You lay there together, wrapped up in each other, the future stretching out ahead of you in a way that felt both daunting and exciting all at once.

But eventually, exhaustion began to creep in, and you could feel Oscar’s breathing start to even out as he drifted off to sleep. You stayed awake for a little while longer, your mind swirling with thoughts of everything you had talked about—the future, kids, racing. It was all so uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel scared.

As sleep finally began to claim you, you whispered into the quiet, “Goodnight, Oscar.”

In the dim light, you felt him smile, his arms tightening around you as he mumbled sleepily, “Goodnight, love.”

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝ PUSSY PRIVILEGES ARE GONE ❞

— talking about pussy + one mention of “dick privileges”, whiny satoru, poly! satosugu x afab! reader, serial manspreader + sassy man Suguru, black reader in mind :3

“You can’t do this to me.” Silence. “Baby, pleaseee!”

“Nah.,” you scoff. “Over with, pussy privileges are gone, and that’s final.”

“All because I don’t like the nickname?,” Suguru asks besides you, head cocked like a puppy.

You tug at Satoru’s strong hold around your waist. “Yep. Can’t get a kiss, can’t give my boyfriend a nickname. You two don’t love me anymore.”

Suguru crosses his arms over his chest, sinking further into the couch, traces of a pout falling over his face. He sighs. “What’s wrong with just calling me Sugu?”

You fight helplessly against Satoru, ignoring his continuous whining as he pulls you back into his lap. “What’s wrong with calling you ‘Papa Sugs’?”

“You can’t be serious.”

Huffing, with Satoru’s overdramatic and agonized moaning in the background. “Pft. Imma show you some damn serious.”

Suguru’s chuckle, exasperation creeping up the edges. “Sure. You’re gonna ban us from your pussy for…?”

“Indefinitely.,” you grunt, finally prying yourself from Satoru’s grip in his shock at your response.

“Baby!,” he whines, blinking shiny blue eyes at you beneath white lashes. “Baby, I-“

“Ohhh, so now I’m baby?”, you tease, rolling your eyes. “I wasn’t baby when you weren’t kissing me back, loser.”

“It was a joke!” Gojo puffs out his cheeks. “I’m a changed man, I promise.”

“Oh, okay.,” you smile at the knit of his brows. “You’re gonna be a changed man, alright.”

Satoru falls over into Suguru’s lap, stuffing his face into aforementioned man’s shirt and whining a muffled ,”You sooo hate us.”

“Whatever.,” you brush them off with a wave of your hand, heading to the kitchen. “Consider it a lesson in punishment.”

Six days. Just shy of a week before Suguru shows signs of cracking, because Satoru couldn’t withstand this whole thing to begin with. He’d tried everything from begging to gifts to taking your ‘dick privileges’, and then being immediately thwarted with a flick of your vibrator.

“That thing’s gonna replace us?,” Suguru snorts, nibbling the inside of his cheeks.

“It’ll do for now.,” you giggle with a raise of your chin. In truth, it didn’t even come close, but you’re far too petty to admit that.

“Can’t believe that is gonna get more action than me.,” Satoru groans into the pillows. “I’m gonna die at this rate.”

“Good.,” and he jolts up with wide eyes at your response. “I’ll make an example out of you for Geto.”

Satoru drags himself up to pout in your direction. "You could at least call me Satoru, he's the one you're upset with about names."

"No, first names are for boyfriends only."

Suguru lays sprawled out on the bed, legs spread open in retaliation, tapping around on his phone. "Oh? And when did we lose boyfriend privileges?"

"Since just then."

Both men narrow their eyes at you, glancing at eachother before Suguru massages a temple, lids fluttering as his eyes roll to the back of his head. "Fine, we're terrible boyfriends. Happy now?"

You adjust the towel around your chest, and disappear into the bathroom for a shower. "Nope, but I'm glad y'all know."

Ever dramatic, Satoru points an accusatory finger at Suguru. "This is your fault, she didn't take these privileges until you and that whole Papa Sug nonsense!"

"Well, you started it."

Their bickering raises bouts of giggles in your throat. Water spouts from the shower head when you turn the knob, and you tinker for a few minutes to get it to a temperature of your liking. At the sound of your 'ahem', both men go silent.

"First one to join me in the shower gets pussy privileges ba–“

There's a sound of rapid scuffling, Satoru's 'ow!', and then a flash of dark hair as Suguru slams and locks the door behind him.

"Not fair, I fell!," Satoru whines from the other side, jiggling the knob.

"Desperate are we?," you flash your tongue at Suguru as he strips bare.

"Mm." comes his quiet response, not wanting to fully admit this little game of yours was a lot more painstaking than he let on.

"Does that mean I get to call you Papa Sugs now?" Before he can open his mouth, you add, "If not then you gotta get out."

"Yes, kick him out!," Satoru pipes in, door now wide open and you notice the knob is not as attached as it was before.

Suguru sighs, throwing his shirt in Satoru's face before pinching your waist, and he smirks when you give a small yelp. "Fine."

[dilemmaontwolegs]

can you do something about lando's neck please ?

Sub!Lando is making a comeback for this one 🤤

Pretty Necklace || LN4

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, dom!reader, overstimulation, breathplay, smut

Lando crushed the back of his head into the pillow, his hands holding the gilded metal railing of the headboard for dear life. He knew if he touched you then his night would be over, and he had been so good for you. He had done everything you told him without hesitation.

“Do I need to tie them in place?” you asked as you looked up from where you lay between his legs. He shook his head harshly, missing the warmth of your mouth on his cock and the feel of your finger in his ass.

“No, no, ‘m good, please, I’ll be good.” His blue eyes were shimmering with tears as he tried to keep still, but he couldn’t stop his hips from bucking with the kitten lick you gave to the swollen and sensitive tip of his dick. Every muscle in his body was straining, his calves bulged where he dug his heels into the mattress and his abs had been clenched for the past half and hour since he last came.

But it was his neck that looked divine.

Climbing up his body, you planted your palms on his damp chest and sunk slowly down his hard length. His eyes screwed shut as your warm walls welcomed him and his chest rose and fell quickly with the sharp breaths it took to keep from coming right away. He hadn’t been given permission yet.

“I love your neck,” you praised as you ran your palms up his sweaty chest and over his collarbone. You traced the thick cords of muscle that stretched up his the column of his neck and over his racing pulse. “Open your eyes, my little pet.”

Lando obeyed, he always did. His eyes flashed open as your hands encircled his throat, the girth so thick you had to use both. You gently squeezed the sides but the pressure barely registered on his face with the strength of his muscle.

“Harder,” he pleaded, the question you were about to ask.

Your thumbs pressed harder until a dopey smile graced his lips and a moan filled the air. His cock twitched inside you as you slowly rode him, he was so close and so you were you.

“Such a pretty necklace,” you purred. You could watch him like this all day, your fingers around his throat and his eyes rolling back as his back arched off the bed.

“Please, please, can I come? Please…” his strained voice was barely more than a whisper and his lips were dry with the panting of the evening.

His begging made your cunt clench tight around him and a strangled sound escaped his chest.

“Since you asked so nicely, little pet, you can come.”

Lando’s neck bulged even more, breaking the hold you had as he cried out in ecstasy. His hips thrusting up lifted you off the bed with him and you gasped at how deep he buried himself, painting your walls with his come. Spent and panting, he sagged back into the mattress, his arms falling limp around his head and he whimpered when you rolled your hips.

“You still have one left in you, don’t you, my little pet?”

He mumbled incoherently as you continued to ride him, his cock still hard and ready for you.

“I’ll let you rest soon,” you promised. “Just one more, do you have one more in you?”

His eyes fluttered open with the want to please you and he gave the smallest of nods that you rewarded with a smile. “Good boy.”

[mangosrar]

Brat.

chris sturniolo x fem reader.

pure filth. smut. smut. smut.

fucking ass hole. an absolute douche bag is what he is. who does he think he is talking to you like that. with that tone and that voice that made you wanna rub your thighs together. and that look he has when he’s angry that makes you wanna drop to your knees. it made you so so so angry. or horny. both.

“fuck” you heard him mumble from behind you.

you rolled your eyes and didn’t even bother to look at him. you stayed lying on your stomach on his bed with your arms folded under your chin.

“for fuck sake” he shouted before he slammed whatever item he had in his hand down on his desk.

“would you stop yelling i’m trying to relax” you looked over your shoulder to see him standing with one hand on his hip and the other rubbing his forehead. he didn’t even reply. you watched him tentatively as he closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. clearly trying to calm himself down.

“i don’t know why you’re standing here all angry and shit. you should be apologising” you looked away from your boyfriend and lay your head back down over your arms and closed your eyes.

his light footsteps could be heard and you assumed he was leaving the room. you were rudely proven wrong when you felt a weight on your back and Chris’s breath on your neck.

“why are you being such a brat mh? you’ve been on my ass all day y/n” his voice was quiet but stern. you could feel his bulge pressing into your ass as he put his full weight down onto you.

“i’m not being a brat, you’re just an entitled ass hole who can never admit when he’s wrong!” the second your mouth closed he sat back and grabbed a fist full of your hair, yanking your head back. making you yelp.

“watch your mouth” his voice was deep and you felt it rumble through his body on top of yours. you couldn’t help but feel a heat grow between your legs. you knew what was coming and you were fucking thrilled. whenever he got like this the sex was mind blowing, not that the sex wasn’t good normally, but chris was always so gentle with you, sometimes you just wanted to be man handled a little.

chris brought his face to the side of your head and pressed hot feather light kissed to the side of your neck, as he ground his hips into your ass, making you whine and squirm underneath him.

“look at you, such a mess for me” you could hear his smirk in his voice and it only made you wetter.

“please chris” your voice was high pitched as it came out.

“what do you want baby” he began sucking on your neck, pressing his hips into the plush of your ass again. you only whined in response. he new exactly what you wanted. he was just being a dick.

“say it” he halted his attack on your neck, waiting for you to talk. you hesitated momentarily, debating on wether you wanted to give him the satisfaction of knowing how worked up he had gotten you.

“i want you to fuck me” your words were so quiet he barely even heard it, but he did.

“what was that? i didn’t quite hear you” he was now full on thrusting his clothed dick into the plush of your ass. his sickly sweet voice did nothing to help the throbbing between your legs, and you were no way going to repeat yourself. he let go of your hair and you let your face fall into the pillow as you let out a frustrated whine kicked your legs behind him.

“fucking brat.” was all he said before he was yanking your shorts off and pulling your ass upwards. you heard him fiddle with his belt behind you, before he let out a groan. when you turned your head to look over your shoulder at him, you wanted to come on the spot. he had his hand wrapped around his dick and his bottom lip between his teeth, but his eyes were on you.

“are you gonna stop being bratty if i give you what you want?” you just nodded in response.

“use your words” he punctuated his sentence with a swift slap to your ass. masking you squeak.

“yes fuck. yes” you turned your head and shoved your face back into the pillow. you were desperate for some sort of relief from the ache between your legs.

“good girl” he said before placing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

chris wasted no time before he slammed into you and bottomed out, giving you no time to adjust to his size before he was pushing his cock in and out of you.

the moan that came out of your mouth was unholy. your hands reached forward, gripping the bed sheets but chris quickly grabbed them and held them behind your back, still pumping his cock in and out of you.

“is this what you wanted mh? get me all worked up so i fuck you like a slut?” he spoke through his teeth. he was relentless. every thrust he sent you banging the headboard against the wall. he brought the hand that was resting on your hip up before bringing it back down and leaving a slap on your ass, before smoothing his hand over it to ease the sting.

“answer me” he growled.

“yes. god fuck- ngh. this is what i wanted” your voice was broken from his harsh thrusts and muffled from the pillow your face was pressed into. you heard him chuckle behind you before his thrusts became impossibly faster, making you squeal.

the only sounds that could be heard were Chris’s grunting, you’re moaning and the lewd noises of his cock pumping in and out of you. it was nothing less than pornographic.

Chris’s hand that was holding your hip, weaved it’s way underneath you and found home on your clit, rubbing fast hard circles.

“oh god chris, fuck” you were almost screaming at this point, you would have been if it wasn’t for the pilllow. chris took note of this and let go of your arms, instead gripping your throat, pulling your head up.

“come on baby, let me hear those pretty little sounds you make, let the whole fucking neighbourhood hear what it sounds like when a brat gets fucked” his words were dripping with venom. but it tastes so sweet.

his thrusts became harder, knocking the wind out of your lungs. you desperately wanted to close your legs with how close you were getting. but Chris’s death grip on your throat, convinced you not to.

“chris i’m so close. please don’t stop” your voice was pathetic and strangled. his hand on your throat restricting you, but the jump of your pulse under Chris’s fingers, only edging him on more.

“oh baby i’m not gonna stop, be a good girl and come all over my cock” his words sent you tumbling over the edge. you were practically screaming. thrashing underneath him. but he was a man of his word. he was not stopping. he did not let up. his thrusts were hard and fast, driving his cock into you like his life depended on it. you struggled in his grip and he let go of your throat and pulled your arms behind your back once more.

“come on baby. give me one more. i know you can” his fingers on your clit became faster. he grabbed your hair once more and pulled your head up again, forcing your back to arch more, allowing his cock to reach so deep you could taste it. you were a moaning mess under him. high pitched breathy moans spewing out of you.

with his cock and his hands put together he had you tumbling over the edge again in no time. sending chris into his own orgasm. he carried on thrusting hard into you as he doubled over and rested his head on your back. your legs were shaking and you were panting and whining underneath him.

he let out a loud groan and a line of curses before he stilled inside of you, painting your insides white. he sent a few more hard thrusts, emptying his cock, giving you every last drop.

your boyfriend collapsed on top of you, both of you lying still trying to catch your breath. he pulled his head back slightly to plant loving kissed on the back of your neck and shoulder.

“if i get to fuck you like that, we gotta argue more often y/n”.

mom i need him.

taglist: @christinarowie332 @soursturniolo @biimpanicking @urmyslxt @its-jennarose @freshlovehacker @kitaysworld @kvtie444 @flowerxbunnie @azkabanstar @mattenthusiast @mattsd0ll @lovingsturniolo @hearttshapedkisses

[hayatoseyepatch]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: Hoshina knew better than to get romantically involved with a subordinate, but he sees you in a different light, the object of his desires.

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗: Soshiro Hoshina (Kaiju No. 8)

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.4 k

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘: Soshiro Hoshina x Fem!Reader. (SMUT). 𝖈𝖜: oral (fem receiving), minor impact play, dirty talk, praise, degradation, fingering.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: This is a very late submission for the pixel-cafe's "Challenge Friday", and this challenge was music-themed! *ahem* shameless plug just in case anyone was thinking of joining. *ahem*. I had so much fun with this, I lucked out with one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite artists. So naturally I had to use it to try out a new character from a new fandom I'm so in love with him someone save me. Anywhosies, I hope you enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

𝕾𝖍𝖊’𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖆𝖈𝖎𝖉 𝖓𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖑𝖐𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊, 𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖇𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖙𝖊. 𝕹𝖔𝖙 𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖊𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖆𝖞 𝖔𝖗 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙, 𝖘𝖍𝖊,𝖘 𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖑𝖞 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖓𝖊𝖉.

He knew he shouldn’t, knew that in this line of work romance should be off the table. Knew that at any moment either of you could killed in the line of duty. Feelings in your profession were thoughtless, illogical, and just downright stupid. Why would he put his heart into someone he could lose at any moment? Why would he jeopardize your heart in the event he was the one to meet his end. The idea of losing you alone already had a painful pinch blossoming in his chest, he knew he should stop this, but even he knew it was too late. Knew you both were long past the point, even if a heartbreak was temporary, you both cared for each other too much. Even if separated you both cared for each other too much to not be shattered by the loss of the other.

But those thoughts are quickly shoved to the wayside, thoughts like that had no room in his head, not when he felt your body on his. Not when the both of you snuck out of your rooms in the dead of night. Not when he shut the door to the library with your back, his mouth finding yours hungrily in a desperate kiss. And certainly not when he let out an arms to swipe the contents of a table, uncaring of the clatter of books falling to the ground. Pushing you to lay against the cool wood, hiking your thighs around his waist.

“So fucking beautiful.” His words are muffled against your lips, breathless, barely getting them out before he's claiming your lips once more. The kiss was a mess of tongues and clashing teeth, the both of you unfathomably filled with need. A magnetic pull drew you to each other, unable to be separated until you were both satiated. His lips trailed down the side of your face to your neck. Open-mouthed kisses left in their wake, sharp canines finally sinking into your tender flesh. He hadn’t realized how hard he had bitten down, not until the metallic taste filled his taste buds. His wet muscle swiping against your skin, a tender kiss almost an apology against the afflicted area. But he couldn’t deny the knowledge that he had left his mark on you didn’t send blood rushing to his cock. The thought of anyone who was suspicious that you were taken would now have confirmation.

“Fuck kitten, I need you.” His own voice sounded foreign to his own ears, the need-filled husk making it sound octaves deeper. Hands tugged desperately at each other’s clothing, the overwhelming need to feel each others skin was all-consuming. He needed a taste of you, his mouth going dry with the need to taste you on his tongue. He was grateful you had forgone sleep pants, clad only in an oversized tshirt, one that made it oh so easy to slide your panties down your thighs. He gripped the damp material, unable to stop himself from pressing the fabric to his nose. Eyes locked on yours as he inhaled, relishing in the way you looked away from him in embarrassment, your cheeks darkening with a flush. He lets out a long drawn-out sigh, pocketing the article of clothing for later. “God, kitten, smell so fucking good. Let's see if you taste even better yeah?”

His hand trails down your body, long fingers sliding between your folds, collecting your arousal. His lips leave yours, parting only to whisper “You’re this wet already? Is this for me, kitten?” He purrs needing to hear you say it. His eyes nearly roll back in his head as a delicious whine fills his ears. “Its for you Shiro, all for you.” Those words pull a malicious smirk onto his features, his other hand coming down against the plush skin of your ass in a harsh slap, his lips swallowing the gasp you let slip at the impact. Seizing this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth once more.

𝕴’𝖒 𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖚𝖕 𝖎𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖌𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝖎𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊. 𝕴 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖉𝖎𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖔𝖇𝖏𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊.

His fingers glided against your clit, easily with the aid of your own slick arousal, rubbing tight circles before letting a finger slip past your entrance. Your warm velvety walls sucking in his finger, hugging the digit as if begging for more. He slides in another finger with ease, pulling from the kiss as he dropped to his knees before you. His eyes locked to where his fingers disappeared inside you, his heart racing in his chest. He leans back, admiring you being so exposed for him, hand pulling his fingers from your core, rearing back to slap your exposed cunt. You cry out, pain immediately being replaced with pleasure as he dives down, burying this face into your folds.

His nose bumps your clit as his tongue invades your entrance, curling inside you. He collects your juices on the wet muscle, withdrawing from inside you he pushes himself up. Tongue lolling out of his mouth, allowing your juices, mixed with his own saliva, to drip down on your neglected clit. You whine, the warmth contrasting to the cold of the room. You’re shaking, trying to hold the position he’s placed you in. “Shiro, please!” You cry, not even sure what you’re begging for at this point. “What does my pretty kitten need, hmm?” he hums, lips curled into a malicious smirk “You know you need to use your words and ask your vice captain how he can service you angel.”

“Please Shiro need more, fingers, please fuck me with your fingers vice captain!” You cried out, voice laced with desperation, hips wiggling wantonly in search of any kind of friction to your throbbing clit. He grinned, pulling away to bite harshly on your thigh, his title moaned from your lips did something to him. “Now how could I say no to such a pretty request?” He coos before plunging two fingers back inside your cunt. His lips attach themselves to your clit, lapping at the sensitive bud, nipping occasionally as he eats your pussy with a deep seeded hunger. The way your walls clamped down on his fingers as they pumped inside of you let him know you were reaching your first orgasm of the evening. He curls the digits, focusing on that spongey spot that has your vision going white. His words spoken against your pussy as he speaks. “Go on kitten, cum for me, cum for your vice captain.”

His words are the anchor that sent you plummeting to your release, the coil tightening in the depths of your stomach, moments from snapping. “Shiro, please, fuck fuck fuck!” You can feel his lips curl into a grin against you, other hand coming up to pin your hips to the cool wood of the table. His fingers work in tandem with his tongue, the cold of his fingers perfectly contrasting with the warmth of his mouth. You were thrown over the edge, walls suffocating his digits as they spasmed around his fingers. Your hips bucking desperately against his face as you rode out your orgasm.

Coming down from your high, you catch your breath, your chest rising and falling heavily as he stands to his feet. Hoshina slips his fingers from inside of you, cradling your still-shaking form to his chest, running his fingers through your hair in a soothing gesture. Only to lean down, lips brushing the shell of your ear to whisper. “Well now that we’ve gotten our warmup all done, you ready for the main event kitten?” the fingers of his free hand deftly freeing his cock from the confines of his pants. Quick to rub the head of his cock against your clit a few times before moving down to probe your entrance. Sure, rational thought would tell him that getting involved with you was a mistake. But, as he watched you writhe beneath him, looking up at him desperately through your lashes he couldn’t determine if you were born in hell or heaven-sent, but either way he was into it.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune. Character banner and writing by me. Tagging @pixelcafe-network.

[trendywaifus]

who would let the world burn for you? cw: yandere themes, mentions of blood and dead bodies. angst. possible oocness. gn! reader.

I LET THE WORLD BURN, I LET THE WORLD BURN FOR YOU, THIS IS HOW IT ALWAYS HAS TO END.

FIREFLY/SAM would gladly let the world burn if it guarantees your safety. you’re like an ever-lasting flame they can physically cradle in their hands; you give them hope, a purpose. what makes you think they’ll purposely snuff you out for a world—the universe who didn’t dare to show not an ounce of mercy to them?

sam gently holds you in their arms, green wings resembling flames behind their back. behind them is a vast sea of angry fire—burning buildings and corpses sam doesn’t bother to look back to as they walks away from the ruined civilization. “ sam. .” you weakly whisper, the mecha looks down. if it could frown as it scans the cuts and nasty bruises littered all over your body, they would.

“ i came here for you. “ sam says, their voice soft and full of worry reserved only for you, “ it wasn’t apart of the script but i couldn’t bear to stand by and let you do everything by yourself. i feared that you could’ve. .” a familiar feminine voice blends in with sam’s low robotic one as they trailed off.

they fall silent when your shaky hand reaches out to touch sam’s “ face “, soft orange flames sizzles out from their metal slits.

I LET THE WORLD BURN, JUST TO HEAR YOU CALLING OUT MY NAME, WATCHING IT ALL GO DOWN IN FLAMES

KAFKA would let the world burn to show you what she’s willing to do for you. she wants to see the look on your face when everything is in flames because of her.

“ k-kafka. .” you mutter, backing away in fear as she saunters closer to you, stepping over dead bodies with no regard. her velvet lips stretches into a grin, teeth baring as orange flames are reflected in her eyes, making her look menacing. “ there’s no need to look so fearful, ” she drawls, stretching her arms wide as she draws nearer and nearer. “ you know i wouldn’t dream of laying a finger on my precious doll. “

you backed up against a cracked brick wall, legs trembling as she finally in arms length. “ y-y-you, wh-wh—“ kafka chuckles, placing a gloved hand on your cheek, her pinkish purple hues stares into your own. “ use your words, darling. i’m listening. “

“ wh-why? “ you choked out, (e/c) eyes filled with tears. kafka hums, placing the other hand on your cheek, now cradling your face. “ why? it’s simple, really. you may think the reason why i’m doing this is to make you suffer or something cliche straight out of a boring hero vs villain flim. hmm, it’s none of that. “

she leans closer to your face until her lips brush against yours. “ it’s an act of love. all i did was make it dramatic, isn’t it ironic? “

I SHOULD’NT HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE, LOOK AT WHAT IT MADE ME BECOME

RUAN MEI never could understand the concept of love due to her trauma and just couldn’t emotionally grasp it. but you—you made the loose ends stretch and connect and she finally gets to have a taste of what it means to love. but soon after, things began to spiral out of control—specifically her emotions. it’s now always you, you, you on her mind. it’s frustrating because it’s making her think irrational, illogical things. so, will she let the world burn for you? yes—undoubtedly so.

ruan mei winds her slender arms around your waist, guiding you into her midst. her cool breath fans against your skin as she outlines your cheekbone with her lips. and she doesn’t stop there—no, she’s moving down to the corner of your lips, jawline, neck, and then right at a certain spot where she feels your pulse. it’s slow and steady. a hand trails up your arm and eventually three fingers press against the opposite side of your neck. a blue light and a warm tingle follows suit.

“ ruan mei, you don’t have to do all of that. i’m alive. “ you sighed. ruan mei moves back a bit to peer into your eyes, she touches your cheek. “ i’m aware. “ she says softly, contrary to the glint in her eyes, a emotion that you can’t recognize—a emotion so passionate yet ominous that it sends a chill down your spine.

“ and I’ll keep it that way. “

I LET YOU GET TOO CLOSE, JUST TO WAKE UP ALONE

AND I KNOW YOU THINK YOU CAN RUN, YOU’RE SCARED TO BELIEVE THAT I’M THE ONE

BUT I CAN’T LET YOU GO

ACHERON allowed herself to get swallowed up by the waves of love—she allowed it to rush through the cracks of her heart and fill up the emptiness within. you’ve imprinted on her soul and now she’s hopelessly devoted to you. if the world must burn for you to be by her side, so be it. the world means nothing if you’re not in it.

her white tresses flows into the wind as she calmly walks towards you. her ruby eyes settled only on you as the once blue sky is ripped apart with one clean red slash and ruins scattered everywhere behind her. “ acheron. .what have you done? “ you asked in disbelief, holding onto your shattered blade. “ what needed to be done.” acheron merely replies, snatching your forearm and pulled you into her possessive embrace.

“ you didn’t need to do this and you know it! why did you fight me to stop me?! i could of saved millions of lives if it meant giving up my own. a whole civilization is gone now! people—ch-children! “ you sobbed, pushing your palms against her shoulders to escape her hold. acheron holds you tighter into her strong body and buried her nose into the side of your neck. it’s wrong, so, so wrong for her to do something so reckless—so selfish to discard innocent life for the safety of your own. but she’s gone through enough loss and suffering and the hole in her heart is full of you—her everything. if you died, she fears that she would of. .

“ forgive me, forgive me, “ acheron mutters into your skin like a prayer, “ i’m truly a coward but i’d gladly continue to be so if i can hold you in my arms like this. “

FEAR IN THEIR EYES, ASH RAINING FROM THE BLOOD ORANGE SKY, I LET EVERYONE KNOW THAT YOU’RE MINE

jingliu is letting everything burn. you’re her beloved— she would do anything for you. her blade will cut through anything and everything, even the moon itself to prove that to you.

her glowing, red feral eyes matched the color of the sky as corpses of the cloud knights laid around her like a ritual circle. jingliu looks at you and smiles lovingly in contrast to the horrific act she’s done. “ darling, come here. “ she softly commands, lifting her hand (which is stained with the blood of many!) out to you, waiting for you to take it and join her. you shake your head with terror, your body trembling. “ n-no, jingliu. th-this is madness! “

jingliu tilts her head to the side, her expression falls expressionless. then, she takes a step towards you, her hand falling limp to her side. “ this is madness you say? how laughable, my dear, “ she lets out a breathy laugh and casts you a chilling smile. “ this is hardly anything. once i annihilate the abundance in your name, only then you can speak to me about madness.”

honorable mention

I’D LET THE WORD BURN, I’D LET THE WORLD BURN FOR YOU

STELLE intentionally and unintentionally would let the world burn for you without a doubt. she’d choose you over the world, not caring about how bad it’ll make her seem. all she’s really thinking about is you and not the full consequences of her choice. and because of the astral express, things will get complicated. ultimately, you’ll be the one to give yourself up if the situation really requires you to step up. she’ll prob need to be held back.

“ we don’t have much time, i’ll go. i’ve dropped it anyways. “ you volunteered with a heavy heart, looking back at the city covered in flames. dan heng and march quickly opens their mouth to speak but stelle beats them to it, “ no, you’re not! i-if you’re going, then i’ll go with you! “ she shouts, taking your hand into hers, “ it’s just an artifact—“

“ an artifact that is needed to save this planet and it’s not like dan heng can use his powers either because he’s just going to flood everything and march you already exhausted yourself which means i have to—“

march chimes in, “ h-hold on a minute, even i think it’s a bad idea to go back in by yourself!everything is covered with smoke and ash, there’s no way you can find it on the ground somewhere and you can’t see anything! we need to call welt and himeko—“

“ okay, you call them and i’ll go find it. i know it’s a terrible plan but we’re out of options guys. stelle. please, let go of my hand and stay with dan heng and march. “

stelle stubbornly refuses, “ no. i said i’ll go with you so i am. if you think you’re going to go by yourself then you’re absolutely silly. if it was my choice, i wouldn’t let you go at all. “

your brows furrow with frustration, “ no, you’re being silly, stelle. look—we don’t have time to argue! you’re not going with me! “ without thinking, you jabbed your fist hard into her stomach, causing her to gasp and kneel over in pain. she still holds onto your hand but you hastily break free from her weakened grip. “ i have to go! dan heng! hold stelle back if she tries to follow me! give me 5 minutes tops, i’ll come back! promise! “ you dash towards the burning city, covering your nose in search of finding the lost artifact.

“ no! “ she screams horsely as she watches your figure run further and further away and eventually disappear into the sea of smoke. although in pain, stelle attempts to get back up and run after you. dan heng swiftly restrain her. “ l-let me go, dan heng! can’t you see what’s they’re doing?! it should of been me! no, not even me—the world should just burn! “ she screams at the top of her lungs, tears rolling down her cheeks.

[01zfan]

vice | p. wb

stylist!wonbin x actress!reader | 5.7k words

why was this so fun to write LMFAOOO maybe i’m insane for real you guys. this was a request kinda but i went off on my own. needy lil freak wonbin we love you.

contains: metaphors and allusion to drugs, power imbalance (wonbin works for the reader)

at first to wonbin you were like dessert. a sweet treat for the end of the night to take the edge off of his long days.

he first met you after a long bout of unemployment, something that was common in his line of work. stylists were in an abundance these days, and each time wonbin thought he had a gig it fell through. because of his desperation for work, he ended up agreeing to take a job offered to him by his friend. the pay was shit, the photoshoot was in a studio that would take an hour to get to on public transportation, and wonbin was taking a professional step backwards by joining the team as an assistant stylist. he knew he couldn’t afford to say no so he agreed, not even bothering to ask who the subject of the photoshoot was.

when wonbin arrived the next day, he was greeted by the friend that got him the job. like always, wonbin got the rundown of the day and heard that several things had already gone terribly wrong. he nodded and followed closely behind shotaro, trying to understand what the concept of the photoshoot was and what brands they were allotted to use.

wonbin saw you for the first time when shotaro guided him behind the wall where he saw flashing lights and heard camera shutters. he barely got a glance at you, his view obstructed by a photographers and the makeup team that swarmed you between each camera click. wonbin was amazed at the amount of people, nothing like the low-brow photoshoot he was expecting. when he finally weaved through the crowd of people he caught up to shotaro and asked him who you were.

shotaro was taken aback by his question. wonbin saw his friend stop going through the clothing rack to turn towards him with his eyes wide. wonbin was informed through a tight-lipped whisper that you were an up and coming actress, one of the biggest new names on the scene. shotaro told wonbin that he was lucky to land such a good gig and if he was able to get a permanent role on the team he would be more than well off. wonbin looked back to you as he got a fast explanation and rundown of all the things you were featured in. he could see your side profile, how your hair blew in the artificial wind of the fans. 

“you know i don’t watch movies.” wonbin said, still looking towards you. 

“i suggest you at the very least watch hers.” shotaro looked back to the clothing rack, pulling the next outfit off its hangers to have it ready. “she’s pretty talented.” shotaro says.

wonbin found himself more interested you the longer he looked. you knew your angles, working them well for the camera as the raw photos appeared on the prompter. wonbin watched each one come out flawless, how you took the photographers pointers and acted on them immediately. he had seen too many actors in his time know nothing about posing for a camera, treating every photoshoot like it was a movie. but you did it well, maybe a little too well.

wonbin was only pulled away from you when he heard the director of photography call for the next outfit. wonbin turned to shotaro quickly, recalling all of his prior experience as the assistant stylist. shotaro carefully laid the clothes across wonbin’s outstretched arms and wonbin made his way over to you. 

when you looked up at wonbin from the white block you posed on, he was taken aback. he could admit he wasn’t the best judge of character but something about you just seemed to pull him in. you tilted your head and thanked him for the clothes, motioning for him to lay them beside you. wonbin complied immediately, letting the clothes rest in the free space before bowing away back to shotaro. 

the rest of the day was spent like that. wonbin running around like he was a newbie again, doing everything shotaro needed. the only relief he felt was when he would steal your attention for a moment and when he would be your only focus for a second. each time you thanked wonbin he could feel the heat across his cheeks. he didn’t know what it was, everyone else seemed to be fine around you. you had even built up a rapport with shotaro and the rest of the crew. but when it came to wonbin he was a mess, reduced to deep bows and nods of acknowledgment anytime he got your attention.

wonbin pat himself on the back when the work day was over. he came to the conclusion that being in your presence was inherently embarrassing, that he would never be able to overcome his reddening cheeks or hesitant movement when it came to you. wonbin was excited to go, but when shotaro asked him to come in the next day per your request, something in his mind shifted. he suddenly remembered your lingering looks, the way you grazed his hand and said a shy sorry afterwards. wonbin agreed faster than he should’ve, reasoning that he was just grateful to have a job for another day.

when wonbin first saw you outside of work he was experiencing another late night scouring job listings and watching youtube videos to play in the background. you came on his television due to autoplay, something only slightly related to what he was watching prior. regardless, you came on his screen bright eyed with a wide smile, and a bubbly lift to your voice as you introduced yourself to the camera. 

wonbin tried to ignore you at first, to banish your voice to the backburner of his mind as he focused on more important things. you were meant to purely be white noise to occupy his overactive brain but he kept hearing you. the sentences wonbin typed into his job applications turned into whatever you were saying on his television. so he took a break, closing his laptop as he turned his attention to you. he watched a full thirty minute video of you breaking down scenes of a movie you were in. wonbin watched the whole thing intently with zero prior knowledge of the film. the way you spoke was sweet and expressive, the complete opposite of how you treated him. 

he reasoned with himself that he pulled out his phone to figure out more about you. shotaro’s advice to watch a movie of yours played in his mind as he saw the prices to rent your most recent film. he spent twenty dollars he didn’t have to rent it, and he watched the whole thing curled up on his loveseat.

he was becoming obsessed and before he knew it, wonbin’s whole day started revolving around you. the next day wonbin came to work early with a new appreciation for you. he found himself desperately wanting to make a good second impression, to show you that he was really grateful for the opportunity to work under you. wonbin didn’t know why he wanted to show the good side of himself to you so badly, but he arrived to the studio long before your team came. he found himself lingering outside of the studio waiting for shotaro to park his car, but his friend was forgotten when your sleek black car pulled up to the curb. 

wonbin watched you hop out of the car in an outfit to match. he watched you walk through the parking lot with your entourage huddled around you like fans. you were unbothered with your black shades that you only lifted when you made it past the entryway of the studio. you casted a glance to wonbin at the last second, and he continued to turn his head to follow you. he understood in that moment why you were up and coming, you had something that could only be described as it. wonbin realized the second day how refined you were, how much you advocated for yourself. you could wear anything, from the all black street style to the colorful designer brands they had you dressed in for the photoshoot. 

when he got home after working for you he would scour the internet looking for things about you. in an effort to figure you out wonbin had seen your entire filmography within the month and he could recite almost all of your interviews. it had gotten to the point that you were getting in the way of the work he was trying to do and he was almost alarmed that he didn’t care in the slightest. he was lucky that he had been offered a position as your permanent assistant stylist after shotaro put in a good word for him.

as time went on, whatever wonbin had with you had gotten out of hand. he was able to convince himself that he was just learning about you, but he found that he needed more and more. niche interviews didn’t cut it anymore, he was searching the internet high and low for deep cuts of you. that’s when wonbin began to admit to himself he never had much of a sweet tooth. something as sugary as icecream sated his need after a bite or two. if he had to compare his relationship with you now he would compare you to the bottles of liquor or the powdery white substances that he always saw at the parties you steered clear from. you were something he got hooked on and by the time he realized it was too late.

he couldn’t blame you for being addicting, you were simply existing the same way all vices did. if anything it was wonbin’s fault. he wasn’t diligent enough, he didn’t administer you in small doses. drugs weren’t necessarily was bad if you did it in moderation. but your personality and proximity to wonbin made that impossible. he was all in, up to his neck in you and he was only sinking lower and lower.

you were just so much like him and you didn’t even know it. wonbin blamed it on the fact that he couldn’t wear the clothes he actually wanted to wear at work. he had to make sure that he was comfortable, that he could move the way he needed to when gathering clothes or running around on set. what wonbin really wanted to wear to work was the clothes he had in his closet that you also happened to own. he was able to convince himself that it was always completely by coincidence that the clothes you would wear would appear in his closet in his size. like there was someone else blowing his paychecks to have your exact wardrobe. but wonbin wore it well, and he believed that you would agree with him. 

you were mysterious just like him, a little off-putting but alluring nonetheless. you were his carbon copy—if only he could get the words out to tell you that. wonbin was only able to confess to you in his moments of solitude, when your face would flash through his mind like a bolt of lightning. he got used to whispering your name over and over again at night, just to take the edge off. you were all consuming and you didn’t even know it, the same way all vices were. wonbin believed that if he didn’t have you it would only be something worse. 

as wonbin stayed on your team as a stylist, you eventually took off. you booked important movies projected to be blockbuster hits, you were constantly booked for photoshoots and interviews. he was able to stave off his addiction to you by working for you. he was forced to be the most respectful version of himself to be in your good graces. he was lucky you had taken a liking to him to the point that he became your personal assistant. this meant wonbin got the privilege to follow you around all day like a lost puppy, doing your chores and walking your dog when it visited you on set. he fetched your food when you didn’t feel like getting up. wonbin had become your servant, and he didn’t want anything else. 

being your servant meant he got to see the most intimate aspects of your life. he knew who was in your phone, what you wore and where you ate. he was able to see the things you shared in common and the things he suddenly felt himself taking a liking to. 

the best perk was that he was able to sit in your trailer with you while you napped. after everyone else on the stylist and makeup team was shooed out of your trailer for lunch he had the unspoken permission to stay. truthfully it was because you needed someone to be there to wake you up in time. but you were nice enough to let wonbin take a nap on your tiny couch. you retreated to your bed in the back of the trailer while your manager reminded wonbin what time he needed to be back on set. wonbin nodded gently, settling deeper into the couch as his phone vibrated in his hand. 

right as the door closed wonbin slid down his notifications bar to see what it was. a new interview of yours had just dropped, a picture of you in thumbnail smiling wide with your things spread out in front of you. wonbin looked into your area of the trailer over his shoulder. he saw your feet gliding across the mattress as you laid in bed. he wondered if you were on your phone watching videos like he was. whatever you were doing, he just hoped you were distracted enough.

wonbin knew better than to watch your videos while you were in the other room. he had picked up the nasty habit of losing himself when you appeared on the flat dimensions of his phone. it was like you were in the palm of his hands, the adrenaline of feeling you talk right to him made him lose all self control. he would’ve been able to talk himself out of doing something so bold especially when you were less than a yell away. but that’s what happens when people have addictions—they do stupid things because enough is never enough. that’s why even when wonbin was on the job where you were the topic of every sentence you weren’t talked about enough. in the moments when he would literally on his knees fixing your garment he wasn’t worshipping you enough. he needed his fix and he couldn’t wait another moment. so while wonbin chewed on the nail bed of his index finger he clicked on the video with his thumb.

the orientation lock was already off from the night before and automatically went to landscape mode. the intro music crackled through his speakers in the split second it took him to turn it all the way down. wonbin looked behind him quickly to see that your motions had ceased on top of the bed. he sunk further into the mattress and spread his legs trying to keep up appearances for the invisible audience in front of him. wonbin was solely just doing his job, looking closely at your eyes to make sure the makeup came out well on camera and that your hair was styled right. he cursed himself for letting his bluetooth earbuds die, he needed to hear your voice even though he had been hearing it all day. he was forced to settle for the subtitles and reading your lips. glossy and plush, drawing into a smile each time you sheepishly explained another item in your bag. wonbin felt the urge to look over his shoulder again but he didn’t want to miss a moment. 

he abused the rewind ten seconds button while he pushed down on the tent that always formed in his pants like muscle memory. he brought his leg over the other when he saw you pull out the same sunscreen he owned.

wonbin was always in a negative feedback loop when it came to your videos. he would find a part he liked the most, a little moment of you looked at the camera with big eyes when you were asked a question or a small reaction where you would chew on your lip while in deep thought. no matter how short it was wonbin became obsessed, he would rewind it again and again. he saw you look up to the staff behind the camera for approval a million times, rewinding the video just to have it seared into his eyelids. he watched your delicate hands fiddle with each item as you pulled it out of your bag, how you took the time to sincerely explain each one.

he was too distracted by you that he didn’t know you were right behind him, watching him rewind the same part over and over again. as soon as he felt like something was behind him he heard your voice right next to his ear.

“you really are obsessed with me, huh?” you said.

wonbin instantly let his phone drop to the ground and yelled. it was the loudest he had ever been, the sound bounced off of the walls of your trailer and even made you jump. wonbin stood up from your tiny sofa quickly, rubbing his sweaty hands down his pants as he tried to think of an explaination.

“i was just making sure…” wonbin stammered.

all the excuses he had made up in his head for this exact moment were leaving him. he couldn’t think of anything when you cocked your head to the side with that knowing smirk.

“just making sure what?” you mocked.

wonbin felt red hot shame bloom over his entire body. his eyesight felt like it was blurry even though he wore his glasses and he felt short of breath. he was sure you saw the tips of his ears turn red and his hands instinctually clenching. 

you only watched him, not saying anything else as wonbin pathetically tried to think about anything else other than the churning feeling in his stomach. being underneath your scrutinizing gaze only made everything worse. when wonbin tried adjusting his pants your eyes immediately flickered down to what he was so desperately trying to hide.

he didn’t have the time to decipher the look in your eye. he just knew he had to get out of there as soon as possible. wonbin got up from the couch and headed to the door, pulling down his sweater as low as it would go.

“wait.” you said calmly.

wonbin turned around to see that you held his phone in your hand. he could see your video still playing on his screen, your demeanor on the screen completely opposite of your expressionless face. you held out wonbin’s phone slightly, moving it back and forth for emphasis.

“don’t forget this.” you said casually.

when he reached for his phone you let it fall from your hand. wonbin watched his phone fall to the floor, making a dull thud when it made contact with your carpet. he looked up to you, trying to figure out what you wanted from him. the shame coursing through his veins turned to fire as he watched you settle into the same spot wonbin was in on your couch. his phone was right by your foot, a silent dare for him to come closer.

wonbin wasn’t sure if he was still reeling off of you causing his mind to make up things. was your hand that moved to rest on your knee beckoning to him? were your eyes staring at him with intent or disgust? he didn’t know what to do anymore. he felt himself getting weak, getting closer and closer to the ground until he was on his knees in front of you.

he couldn’t mistake the smile that spread across your face as your eyes followed him all the way to the floor. wonbin remembered seeing that exact smile in the first interview he ever watched of you. it was even more intoxicating in person, the different intent in your curled lips made the churning in his stomach worsen. you looked down quickly to his phone that was by your foot and back to his widened eyes.

“come here wonbin.” you moved your foot to lightly hit the edge of his phone where the video of you still played. “come get your phone.” you said.

your words were innocent and you had genuine curiosity across your face when wonbin stayed in place. you’re one hell of an actress wonbin thought to himself. you played the role of someone who was as non-assuming and confused. he tried to figure out what his role in all of this was, who you needed him to be in your movie. he remembered that he was your loyal servant who heeded your every request. so wonbin slowly started closing the space between his body and his phone, crawling on his hands and knees slowly.

when wonbin was close enough to reach his phone he was beside your leg. he kept an eye on you the whole time, now afraid to move an inch underneath your gaze. when you leaned back on the couch wonbin drew in a breath. you opened your mouth and his body straightened and his eyes widened. 

“what do you want to do to me?” you ask.

when wonbin didn’t have the words you tilted your head to the side and batted your eyelashes. you looked so perfect from down here. pure and unsullied like snow. wonbin wanted to lean forward and take you in deep through his nose.

“i want to smell you.” wonbin sniffled.

when you spread your legs further wonbin couldn’t stop himself from shuffling forward on his knees, almost falling to his hands in desperation. before he could touch you, you put up a hand. wonbin stopped instantly, his shaky gaze going up to you.

“you have to be quiet.” you said, holding up a single finger to show that was your one rule.

when wonbin went back on his haunches to nod eagerly. you waited a beat before nodding to wonbin, hands creeping up your legs until they rested on your waist.

instantly wonbin closed the space between your legs and his body. he attached himself to one of them, kissing your jean clad knee before breathing you in deeply. he couldn’t stop himself from groaning, knowing exactly which perfume you had over your body.

“you smell like me.” wonbin murmurs.

“no.” you lift wonbin’s chin so he looks up at you. you see the blush across his cheeks when you shake your head. “you smell like me.”

you lean back on the sofa and wonbin lets his head drop, cheek resting on your knee. you can hear the whimpers bubble from his mouth, how they turn into whiny little groans when his crotch makes contact with your leg. 

“i can’t tell if you wanna fuck me or be me.” you scoff.

wonbin knew he was told to be quiet but he couldn’t help himself. not when he could feel the patchwork of your jeans rub against the most sensitive part of him. he remembers scouring the internet high and low for your pants only to find out they were custom made, one of a kind. something that was previously so unattainable was in the palm of his sweaty shaking hand. 

wonbin pressed his fingers deep into your leg as he shuffled forward to straddle your foot. he felt your skin dimple underneath his grip and you hissed before jolting your leg. the sudden movement made wonbin cry out pitifully, the pleasure of your leg moving against his crotch was so intense it was nearly painful. he moved his head to hang between your two knees as he stilled to catch his breath. he panted while pressing his forehead into the cushion of your sofa, trying his best to regain his composure. you only watched him and laughed, reaching down to manually loosen the white knuckle grip his fingers had on you.

“don’t leave a mark.” wonbin instantly loosened his fingers at your order. “i have a photoshoot tomorrow.” you said.

wonbin nodded because he knew. vogue italia. you were going to be on the cover, you and your costar were going on the spread. they were dressing you in missoni. the direction was were going for was young and fresh, marking a new generation of actresses and you were the leader. he knew and here he was, holding onto you so tight you could break.

“sorry.” your hand wedged between wonbin’s chin and the couch cushion to lift his gaze again. he looked into your dark eyes, having to swallow to try and mend his meek voice. “sorry.” he repeated.

wonbin didn’t move his hips against your leg again as a way to punish himself. he wanted to show you he had some semblance of control, that he was able to follow orders. he didn’t mind acting becoming your dog—by the way he was panting and whining he was already half way there.

“it’s okay.” you said after a beat. 

he was positive you liked torturing him. the glint in your eye never went away, and your lips were stuck in a permanent smirk at his state. wonbin was sure you tsked at him just to see the dejection across his face, that you responded only after short silences to see his pupils shake. he was sure that you unbuttoned your shirt just to watch the color drain from his face and to see his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nothing. you took the underside of your chest in your hands, pushing them upwards for wonbin to see. 

you were making a show of it just to see him become even more pathetic. you started slowly raising and lowering your leg and pressed your shin into wonbin’s crotch. he looked down at your moving leg, resisting the urge to move his hips by biting his lip.

“keep going.” you said after planting your feet into the ground.

you leg went back to not moving, but wonbin didn’t mind. he made up for it three times back, dragging his crotch on the bottom of your foot and then against your shin. 

it wasn’t long before wonbin was unraveling again, humping your leg like the dog you were turning him into. he didn’t remember what he was like before this, if he was always this desperate. he didn’t remember ever needing something as bad as he needed you. even though he would eventually get off he could tell that he would need more. you opened wonbin’s world simply by sitting in a chair, he knew that he would leave your trailer he’d be thinking about his next high.

the thought of you declining something like this happening again made wonbin want to savor it. he listened well this time, one of his hands clutched the armrest of the couch and the other gripped the cushion between your two knees. he looked away from your chest, afraid that too much of you would lead to an overdose. with his cheek pressed into your knee again wonbin started rutting his hips against your leg, trying to find any stimulation possible. 

“look at me wonbin.”

he brought his chin to rest on your knee, eyes closed as the even tone in your voice made him feel even more pathetic. it was as exhilarating as it was embarrassing, wonbin switched from rutting is hips back to the slow circular motion he started out with. the pain in his pants made him shudder, his straining dick had at some point made it out of the fly of his boxers and pressed into the cold metal of his zipper. he needed to keep his eyes closed, atleast long enough to focus on only one sensation so he didn’t start crying.

“i said look at me, bin.” you ordered.

wonbin opened his eyes, he could tell they were watery by the stinging feeling of tears threatening to break past his waterline.

his face must’ve been pitiful, because he saw the smirk go away as you tilted your head affectionately. you even looked at wonbin like he was a helpless dog. your hands went to his face, and wonbin preened his head off your knee towards your hands to feel your touch faster.

“i bet you would’ve fucking killed anyone who got the job if it wasn’t you.” you cooed.

wonbin closed his eyes to remember the feeling of your fingers holding his face then opened them just as fast. he was nodding at your statement even though your question was fuzzy in his mind.

“that’s what you wanna hear?” wonbin nodded again, not sure what he was agreeing to—he just needed you to keep talking “you probably shouldn’t even be near me.” you say.

for the first time wonbin found himself disagreeing with you. he didn’t know where he was meant to be, he lived day to day and paycheck to paycheck as a freelancer in a highly competitive profession. but he had no doubt in his mind that he was where he was meant to be, desperately humping your leg in your hotel room biting his lip to stay quiet. he just wished he could’ve articulated this to you—or at the very least shook his head. but wonbin was so caught up in that familiar tightening in his stomach that he continued nodded as he started rubbing against your leg faster.

wonbin nestled into your soft hands. he could smell the shae butter and the minty smell of the medicated ointment your coated on your nail beds. he took in another shaky deep breath that he let out when you tucked a piece of hair behind his ear.

“i can’t deny that you’re cute though.” you said.

you pulled your hands away from wonbin and propped your elbows on your thighs. you looked down at him, how he was so close to tears. you could see his large eyes begging you for more, not even bothering to hide it. there was no way this was the same quiet, elusive, and mysterious wonbin shotaro talked about constantly.

wonbin watched you lean forward until chin rested in your hands. his breathy pants got louder and he dug so hard into the cushion he felt his nails starting to bend. as you leaned closer wonbin strained his neck to get closer to your face before letting it fall back to your knee. you were testing him by bringing your face so close. wonbin could see the blemishes in your skin and the eyebags that were beginning to set it from lack of sleep. wonbin wanted to reach out and caress the apples of your cheeks that glowed in front of him.

“you’re beautiful.” your voice is sweet, and wonbin’s eyes look like they are shimmering for you. “you’re the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen actually.” you coo.

wonbin kissed your knee and you can see the drool seeping past his lips in between his heavy moans. you can tell he’s close, his desperate hips move even faster than before and you can see his knuckles turn white from the way he grips the cushion. you rack your mind for the final blow, trying to think of the thing wonbin needs to hear to get him to make a mess in his pants. he parts his swollen lips, a tiny exhale slipping past before he strings his declaration together.

“i’m close.” he whimpers.

“mhm.” you lean close to wonbin, adjusting yourself off the couch so you can whisper directly into his ear. “we’d make a pretty cute couple, don’t ya think?” you smirk.

almost instantly, a prolonged whine erupts from wonbin’s throat. it’s high-pitched and bounces off the walls of your trailer. you feel his hips still against your leg, and wonbin pulls away from you to press his face into your leg. he muffles out the rest of his whines in your denim, and you can feel the drool filtering through the thick fabric to wet your leg. you would tell wonbin that they’re custom made and he needs to be careful, but your sure he already knows that. you only pull away and lean back into the couch to watch the man get lost in pleasure. he gives your leg a few final thrusts, and then he slumps completely against you. 

when wonbin pulls away from your leg to look back up at you, his eyes are still blown out and glassy. his chest rises and falls quickly, but he doesn’t move himself from against your leg. you start buttoning up your shirt and you can tell so clearly that wonbin wants to help you. when you let your hands rest at your sides wonbin gets the hint quickly. he stands up from his spot on the ground with shaking legs, and puts his fidgeting hands to your blouse. he focuses on the fabric as he buttons up your shirt, and you laugh at wonbin finally showing you a shred of shame. when you look up to him you purposefully bat your eyelashes and bring your hands to gently hold his bicep. he freezes against your hand and bites on his bottom lip quickly. when his unsteady hands successfully button your blouse he pulls his hands away quickly and stands in front of you. you can see the small dark splotch in the front of his pants. you motion towards the spot and wonbin looks too, awkwardly shifting on his feet when he notices.

“do you want me to send you home early?” you ask.

wonbin shakes his head no and adjusts his pants but pulling at the material gathered at his upper thigh.

“i’m okay.” wonbin says.

“you know.” you cross your legs and look wonbin up and down. you’re sure you could eat him whole and you’re positive he would let you. but you’re better at hiding your desperation behind smirks and shoulder shrugs. “maybe if you’re good we can do a little more next time.” you say nonchalantly.

wonbin adjusts his pants again when there’s a knock at your door. a moment later your shotaro comes in, takes a look at the both of you and checks the time on his phone.

“lunch is over, are you ready?” he says.

you get up quickly, shaking yourself off and casting one more look to wonbin before looking to shotaro.

“i’m ready.” you say, grinning ear to ear.

[seinahirai]

『 You Like It When I Ride It 』(Bada Lee x Reader)

summary: you have a wet dream and wake up to find yourself accidentally grinding against your girlfriend’s thigh. good thing she doesn’t mind, though.

word count: 1.1k

contents: smut, somnophilia, dom!bada, sub!reader, thigh riding, praising, slight degradation, porn without plot, slight fluff at the end, no use of “y/n”

authors note: this is the first time i’m posting one of my works publicly since like 2020, please be kind! this wasn’t supposed to be my first post, but the bada writing community has been a little dry lately so i wanted to help a bit. (also, i quite literally acted out these positions with my pillow to make sure i describe them correctly 😭 enjoy)

you woke up late at night to a wet feeling in between your legs. you were cuddled up on top of bada, your head laying on her chest. your legs were parted, your right leg resting next to hers while the other was spread over bada’s waist.

you only realize the position you’re in when you feel a firm feeling pressing on your clit through your thin pajama pants.

you suck in a breath, looking down at your bottom half, and just like you assumed, you had been grinding against bada’s knee in your sleep.

you try to think for a second, wondering what could have happened in your sleep to prompt you to start grinding on your girlfriend’s knee, but your thoughts are cut short when bada begins to shift around in her sleep, her knee briefly brushing against your clit once more, and you let out a moan mixed with shock and pleasure.

that’s when you realize, you’re dripping wet.

the thin material of your shorts have done nothing to prevent your wetness from soaking through and onto bada’s sweatpants.

you try to look up at bada, but you are unable to due to the hand she has on your head, holding you in place firmly, even in her sleep.

“fuck.” you breath out, gulping as you lightly tap your girlfriend’s side.

“baby?” you call out softly, your voice just above a whisper. all you could hear was steady breathing in response.

you were about to call to her a little louder, when you feel her stir a bit more, her knee pushing up a little higher and rubbing on your clit a little rougher.

“fuck,” you curse, whining softly as you instinctively grind against bada’s knee, riding it as gently as you could as to not wake your sleeping girlfriend.

you continue to rock your hips back and forth, spreading your arousal across bada’s knee.

with your head still faced down, you could narrowly make out the stain you had left on her sweatpants, which only turned you on as much as it embarrassed you.

you kept your pace steady for a while, letting out small whimpers and moans. you try to keep the noise to a minimum, but as your orgasm began approaching, you couldn’t help but grind faster and harder, your volume increasing.

only then did your girlfriend start to wake up, the arm she had around your waist moving slightly. you immediately halted your movements, looking up at her without moving your head.

“mmh, baby…” bada groaned, slowly becoming more and more aware of the situation.

“baby?” she muttered again, a little louder and less hazy. you slowly look up at her, seeing her initial look of confusion turn into a smug smirk.

“yeah?” you whisper, voice a bit shaky.

“are you using my knee to get off?” she asked slowly, a hint of cockiness shining through her groggy, tired voice.

“…yeah.”

you stay silent after that, your breathing unsteady. you can just barely make out the smirk on her face growing wider through the darkness.

“well, why'd you stop?” she pouts, slowly propping herself up on her elbows to get a better look of your messy state.

“you feel so good against me,” she says, her hand moving down to your ass. you breathe in sharply, shaky and unstable.

“i didn’t…want to wake you.”

“nonsense, babe. in fact, if i could wake up everyday to my beautiful, sexy girlfriend fucking herself on me, i’d be the happiest woman alive.”

you blush at her words, which have seem to gone straight to your pussy since you feel more of your arousal pool at bada’s knee.

she seems to have felt it too, because she brings a hand to your hips, pushing down a bit as a gesture for you to keep going.

“go on, baby. i wanna see you ride my thigh.”

you swallow hard, nodding softly as you push yourself up onto your knees, adjusting your legs so that bada’s thigh was between your legs, just barely pressing against your sensitive pussy.

bada rests herself against the pillows propped up against the bed frame, her eyes dark and full of lust and desire as she watches your every move.

you begin riding bada’s thigh, too focused on the pleasure to care about how loud you were being — not that bada minded.

as you continue grinding your clit against bada’s thigh, your whimpers turning into desperate moans and your hips beginning to stutter as you get the familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching for the second time tonight.

“that’s right, sweet girl, just a little more for me. you’re doing so good, baby. using my thigh so well…” she says, rubbing your back in encouragement.

bada licks her lips as her eyes scan through your body, watching as your tits bounce through the thin material of your tank top, one of the straps trailing off your shoulder.

“you’re so fucking sexy, baby.”

her praises only make you even more desperate to cum as you whine pathetically, the movement of your hips becoming sloppier.

“poor baby, needed to get yourself off, so you started fucking yourself on my thigh. it’s okay though, i love feeling your pretty little pussy grinding on me like a little slut.”

that was all it took you.

you let out stuttered moans and gasps, high pitched and breathless. you stop your movements, the pleasure of your orgasm getting too overwhelming.

suddenly, bada places her hands on your hips, encouraging you to continue your grinding on her thigh.

“come on baby, ride it out for me.”

you whine loudly, but obey nonetheless as you continue to ride her thigh through your orgasm, your moans loud and pornographic.

you bring a hand to bada’s shoulder for support as your orgasm rides out, holding on to her tightly as she brings your other hand into hers and coaxes you through the aftershocks.

once your breathing was back to normal and you stopped shaking, you relaxed, sighing softly in contentment as you snuggle closer to her chest.

bada holds you close to her, kissing your forehead as she giggles softly.

“so pretty, baby~” she coos, cupping your cheeks and pressing kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle as well.

“I love you, my sweet girl.”

“I love you more, baby.”

bada smiles and presses one final kiss to your lips before pulling your head to her chest, gently running her fingers through your hair.

“you tired, baby?” bada asks, caressing your cheek.

“no, not anymore.” you reply absentmindedly, enjoying the warmth of your girlfriend.

“good, because watching you ride me has got me pretty worked up. round 2 in the shower?”