#so he could put her in a dress and make her ‘pretty’

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Trinkets

Five presents Jason brought you back from his adventures and one you asked for. (+ one) ~1.2k words of fluff

Jason Todd brings you home gifts from his missions, which wouldn't be a problem, but he never really explains what they are.

The first time it happened, you had laughed at the green ring with a lantern symbol in the middle. It looked cheesy, like one of the fake ones you can buy from the superhero merch stores littered around malls and outlets.

You'd kissed his cheek in thanks, put it on your shelf, and never gave it a second thought.

At least you didn't, until a bright green glow woke you up from your sleep. You'd sat up immediately, jaw practically dropping to the sheets as the ring lifted itself off your shelf and flew out the window.

Jason barely budged, his arm still thrown over your waist. He let out yawn and cuddled closer before speaking, voice groggy and heavy, "Huh. Didn't think they noticed that one was gone."

"They," You half yell, voice pitching as you stare at his outline, hidden in the shadows of the room.

"The Guardians, babe," he yawns out, "They're in charge of the space cops. Just go back to sleep."

Naturally, you do not go back to sleep. You drag him to the kitchen, make tea, and demand he explains why a Green Lantern ring was in your apartment. (He's very happy to)

The second time it happens, you're much more wary of the gift he brings home. But to be fair, he can't really pass off an Amazonian steel sword as something he just picked up.

It doesn't take as much convincing as it should for you to let him mount it on your wall. But it's a sword! No one can blame you for thinking it looks cool in your living room.

It turns out keeping it around is pretty useful, because a few weeks later, your boyfriend crawls through your window, dressed head to toe in armor.

"Hey, doll," he drawls, "Can I borrow your sword?"

"Sure," You chirp back, more preoccupied with your book as he saunters over to the sword, "what for?"

"Artie's got confiscated, and we haven't gotten to steal it back yet," he supplies, stopping long enough to pull his helmet up and kiss your head.

"Oh, that sucks," You answer, offhandedly, "Give her and Bizzaro my love."

"You got it, babe," he chirps already halfway out your window.

He does bring your sword back, covered in green blood, but no worse for wear. It still looks great on your wall.

He brings you a box next. It's kind of ugly looking, but you thank him nonetheless.

"Be careful with it," he tells you as you flip it over in your hands, "It opens boom tubes."

You almost drop it, and if you hadn't already experienced the power ring, you would have shrieked at him. Instead, you manage to put it down very carefully and calmly ask, "It does what?"

"Open boom tubes," he answers, which clears absolutely nothing up, "I figured we could use it to country hop for our next date night. You know, dinner in Paris, drinks in Dubai, dessert in LA."

"Okay," You answer slowly, as if that makes complete sense.

It turns out, it does. Date night is lovely, and making out with your boyfriend on a random beach in Spain is very, very nice.

Batman waiting in your apartment to take back the boom box isn't so nice, though.

Jason tells you it was worth it. He's absolutely right.

The third thing Jason brings you is a plant. Flowers aren't a rare show of affection from him, but ones that move are.

"Uh, thank you, Jason," You start, prodding at the moving petals, they nuzzle your fingers the same way a kitten would, "But I don't know how to take care of these."

"Same way you take care of any other plant, water, fertilizer, nutrients, all that fun stuff," he says fondly, stroking a few of the petals.

"What if it gets sick," You ask, uncertain.

"We'll call Ivy," he says, unbothered.

"Right. Ivy. Poison Ivy. Who you know," You mumble, but the little plant is already worming its way into your heart. (You affectionately name it Daisy, for no other reason then it sways happily when you say that name)

The fourth thing Jason brings you makes you laugh because you know exactly what it is, "Jason, we can't keep this."

"Why not," he pleads, shaking the bright green quiver filled with arrows at you.

You giggled harder, smiling wide as you shake your head at him, "We don't even know what those do. Don't some of those explode?"

"So what," he huffs, practically pouting, "We can ask Roy. And it's not like I don't know my way around explosives."

"I guess so," You relent, trying to stifle your laughs as you inspect the bright green arrows, "How did you even get this?"

His eyes light up mischievously, "Do you really want to know?"

You stop short and narrow your eyes at him, "I would lose my plausible deniability."

"But you wanna know," he says, sly and playful.

You do. (It involves mutated chickens, tar, and one distracted Oliver Queen. You hang the quiver next to the sword)

Jason's getting ready to leave, bags packed and helmet lazy held under his arm, "Can I bring you back anything specific, doll" he asks, his free hand resting comfortably against your cheek, "Lasso of Truth? Maybe something with magic?"

You grin at him, leaning into his touch, "I actually do have something in mind."

"Oh," he prompts, eyes glinting with excitement.

"I want to complete my batarang collection."

He falters, "Your– what?"

"No one has," You exclaim, pulling away to showcase your collection, "I have Nightwings, Batgirls, Batmans, yours, of course, one of Robin's. But I'm missing Spoilers, Batwomans, Signals, and Red Robins."

He blinks at you, "That's– if that's what you want."

You giggle at how dumbfounded he looks, practically bouncing back over to him to kiss him, "Thank you, Jason."

He catches your waist and pulls you back in for another, longer kiss that leaves you both breathless and panting. His voice lowers, like it's a secret, "I'll bring you back some batarangs. See you in a few days?"

"See you in a few days," You echo, and he winks at you as he tugs on his helmet, leaving out your window.

Sure enough, you get your batarangs when he gets home. It takes some convincing, a few kisses that leave you senseless, but you get Jason to help you mount your batarang collection alongside the sword and quiver.

"I should get you a plasma rifle next," he drawls, admiring your growing wall of weapons.

"I think I'd fall over if I tried to shoot one of those," You point out, all smiles.

"I'll teach you," he tells you, hooking an arm around your waist to draw you closer.

Jason's a man of his word, and sure enough, he brings you home a plasma cannon after his next mission.

You only destroy most of the shooting range in the batcave when he lets you try it out.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

logan having reader sit on his lap and he teasingly starts to bounce his knee from where we’re sitting

A/N: The reader is a female and wearing a dress, this turned smutty.

Request are open! I'm always open to ideas <3 and lmk if you'd like to be added to my taglist

I really appreciate all of the love you guys have been giving to my Logan works, it means the world to me and just makes me want to post even more. if you do enjoy my work please continue liking, reblogging, and commenting it helps so much with motivation <3

Logan always wanted you as close as possible. During family dinners, he made sure you had the sit next to him. When you came over for a movie night, he made sure you were next to him so you could cuddle into him and not have to be next to Wade. If there was ever a scenario where you had to sit, he wanted you by him.

Wade was having a little get-together with everyone, and you left to get more drinks after dinner. When you got back, you went to the kitchen and put all the drinks in the fridge before going back to sit with Logan only to discover your seat was taken. Oh, how awful... wherever will you sit? You looked over to Logan with a pout, and you were expecting to see him just shrug and not make a big deal of it, but you were met with his smirk. A faint blush dusted your cheeks seeing his smirk. You knew he was up to something.

You were killing him all night. You wore his favorite little dress. He always said it made you look even more like a princess. While you were gone, he decided that if you were going to tease him, he could do the same. Two can play this game, princess.

"Everything alright, princess?" He asked almost in a condensing way. "You know, Al was telling me about her latest bingo night. You should really come listen," he said, holding his arm out, waiting for you to walk into his arms. He waited until you were in arms reach before pulling you into his lap.

You fell into his lap with a quiet oof. It wasn't an uncomfortable fit, his lap was bigger than you realized and as you were sitting your mind started to wander 'how come you'd never sit on his lap before?' You leaned into his chest and got more comfortable. It was a really nice seat, his strong arms holding you, his scent surrounding you, it was comforting and as you listened to Al's story you felt yourself start to relax for the first time in a few weeks.

That was until you felt his hands begin to wander. Your body tensed up, and you didn't have to turn around to know he was smirking wider than before. That bastard knew what he was starting. "Relax darlin' ain't gonna bite...yet," he hums as he nudges your neck with his nose, taking pride in hearing how your heart skips a beat. "Beat you'd love that, wouldn't you? Love having me mark my girl, " he teases you as his leg starts to bounce.

"L-lo?" You muttered a little confused about what he was doing. He shushes you quietly. "Let me try something, darlin." You nodded and tried to focus on Al's story, but it was getting harder and harder as Logan started to move his leg a bit faster. He could smell how wet you were getting, not to mention feel it on his jeans. As you were moving against his leg you felt your clit rub against him more and more. Your mind was starting to get fuzzy, and all you could really focus on was him on you, one hand moving to your ass while the other stayed firmly on your hip, his lips traveling across the skin of your neck and your panties rubbing against his jeans. Fuck he was trying to kill you.

Just as you were about to cum his teeth caught your ear, you chocked on a moan making him tsk against you "gotta be quiet, don't want everyone to know you're such a slut for me"

You were trying to squirm out of his grasp and fight back your moans as you came on his leg. He cooed and praised you while kissing your neck, "Such a good girl for me, making such a pretty mess for me, princess." You fell against him thinking he'd give you a break, but as he continued moving you along his leg, you knew it was going to be a long night.

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

@chaimshelii

[darnell-la]

Request if you’re taking any!?

Enemies to smut. You finally cave in one night and you both settle things in bed but you’re like a massive brat not letting him dom but you give in everyone in the mansion hears then you have to deal with everyone’s comments the next day

note: young Logan Howlett can be a feral man when it comes to his women talking back. He secretly loves it, but everyone knows.

———

“Maybe if you took your claws out of your ass, you’d work better in the field!” Y/n yelled at Logan who had complained about her messing him up in recent missions they’ve had together.

“Oh, yeah? Well, maybe if didn’t worry about putting on makeup and dressing like some fuckin’ whore of the night, you could be more prepared before the mission! You barely know what we do on missions because you’re late!”

“Oh, fuck off,” y/n flipped the man off as she walked away, from the professor's room. “Fuck off? No, you fuck off! Always fuckin’ up but can’t take the consequences. I’m done working with you!” The man yelled as he followed behind her.

“Great! Maybe now I can breathe and have fun!” The young lady kept waking away from the man, having had enough of him already, and she had just woken up.

“You kill the fun! Always bitchin’ and talkin’ about me!” Logan said, making her laugh. “Ian a fan of old men, baby,” she said, now heading up the stairs. He followed.

“You sayin’ that like you’re not all over me when you’re drunk,” Logan was cocky, and she knew it. She liked it, but he pissed her off so much, she couldn’t stop arguing back.

“See how you gotta get me drunk to be on you?” Y/n said, making the man groan loudly in annoyance. She always had something to say back. He loved it but had to keep arguing.

“I could get you sober, Bub, and I know it. You fuckin’ know it,” he said, so close to her, but He had made it into her room and shut the door in his face, ignoring his true comment.

“Open the fuckin’ door,” Logan said low, still angry, but didn’t want to seem like he was begging. “Aww? Are you mad I don’t give a fuck about your scenarios with me?” Y/n fake pouted.

“They ain’t fake if you rub your ass on me anytime you get a pinch of liquor down that pretty throat of yours,” Logan was furious, yet she felt comfort from his wording. Pretty throat of yours…

“You wanna get me drunk, baby? So I can give you attention?” Y/n asked as she opened her door with a smirk to get him upset. Before the door was even fully open, he pushed through, grabbing her neck and slamming the door behind him.

“Like I said, Bub,” Logan slammed y/n against her room wall, causing a yelp to escape from her mouth. “Ion needa get you drunk to have that cunt leaking,”

Y/n would argue, but once she thought to herself and remembered he had enhanced smell, she almost wanted to shut down.

“Talkin’ all loud and big, makin’ me seem like I’m horny for you, yet, you’re soaked. Fuckin’ leaking your panties,” Logan said as his hands forced their way through her right jeans.

“So fuckin’ wet, I could end dehydration,” Logan teased her as he rubbed all over her pussy, fingers running through her slit as thumb swollen around her bud.

“Y-You can’t fuck me,” y/n was willing to bet. “At least not before I make you cum,” y/n used her strength to push Logan off. They grabbed his belt and dragged him towards the bed before pushing him down.

“No chance-“ Before he could finish, y/n gave him a well-deserved punch to his face. Logan was too surprised to realize she was pulling his jeans down. “Did you just punch me?” Logan asked, too shocked to think straight.

It was hot, yet he wanted to kill her, and by killing her, he meant her insides when he pounded into her squirming form.

“And what are you gonna do about it? Cum? Because that's what it looks like,” Y/n laughed at the man, having his cock in her hand, and the sight of him was unbelievable.

She hadn’t said one nice thing about him, yet he’s leaking am begging to release it all.

“That it-“ Before he could say anything, he stopped, freezing just as the words in his mouth. Y/n almost had all of him in her mouth. She tried to fit everything she could.

“F-F-F-“ Logan couldn’t get out as his eyes crossed and hands curled in his hair. “Mhm hmm?” She hummed in his cock, seeing how his eyes didn’t know what to do.

Y/n giggled at the man’s length as she bobbed her head, slurping him with slightly hard sucks. She couldn’t help but let out small moans and whines while she was at it.

“Fuck, pretty — Ain’t know you could get down like this — This fuckin’ good,” Logan’s breathed heavily as his hands placed in her hair. “Mhm hmm, right there, baby. Keep goin,” Logan gripped y/n’s hair to guide her.

The young lady began to slap at his arms, wanting him to later do what she wanted, but all he did was chuckle at her struggle.

“Thought you’d be gettin’ what you want?” Logan asked as he shifted on her bed and began thrusting his hips upward. “Think just because I’ll come before I stick it in that cunt, that I’ll just stop right then?”

“Oh, Bub, I can go forever. I’ll fill you up more than you could count,” the man told no lie. Y/n was angry, yet turned on that the man wanted to fill her multiple times.

“That’s it, keep gaggin’ — I’m so close,” the man growled as he looked directly into her eyes. She tried staying strong, but she ended up softening her eyes as they rolled back.

“Look so good, Bub — You always do,” he said, gaining a whine from her. “Mhm hmm, that’s it. That’s my girl,” the man chuckled, knowing she hated him, he loved him at the same time.

“Down, down,” Logan groaned, pushing y/n all the way down onto his cock, forcing his tip to graze the back of her throat as he spilled into her. Y/n cried, gagged, and scratched at the man, but took it all just how he wanted.

“C’mere, pain in my ass,” Logan pulled y/n off of him so rough, she almost slipped when he pulled her to her knees and pushed on her the bed. His cock still spilled out cum, as he wasn’t finished cumming, but he didn’t care. He needed to be in her officially.

“Stop! Let me at least-“ y/n tried pushing Logan to the side so she could get on him, but he wouldn’t allow it. “You don’t get what you want anymore. You’re gonna lay the fuck down and shut the fuck up,” Logan had gripped the girl's neck tightly to warn her to calm down.

“You’re an asshole — that cums fast,” y/n grinned, knowing he wouldn’t like her comment. “You're funny, you know?” Logan said with a soft voice but didn’t mean it in the slightest.

The strong man forced y/n on all fours before he ripped her jeans off. “Logan!” She yelled, instantly getting her face forced into the sheets. “Shut the fuck up, before I hurt you. And I know you’ll like it. You’ll like anything I give you,”

Logan slapped at the girl's ass before he ripped her panties off, taking a quick sniff with an eye roll before stuffing them in his jean's back pocket.

“Hey, those were my favorite pair!” Y/n yelled. “Thankfully, I don’t give a fuck,” the man cussed before he pushed into y/n with full force, trapping a loud scream she wanted to let out.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ slut,” Logan pulled y/n back by her hair with one hand as the other wrapped around her neck. “You fuckin’ like that, huh? Like me being an asshole? Like me using you like you mean nothing!?”

Logan snapped his hips hard, forcing her ass to clap right back into his pelvis. The noise made the situation better.

“Oh, but you are somehting, Bub. My girl. My pretty girls who’s gonna run her mouth, talk shit, and get tough a lesson,” y/n whined as her walls clenched around him.

He wanted her. She didn’t care how rude he was to her, at least she knew he wanted her.

“You know how many people are gonna laugh at you? Seeing how fucked up I have you when we leave rooms? So damn dumb, and fucked out,”

He was even willing to let people know he wanted her. She couldn’t stop pulsing around him.

“You’re gonna be my girl, and keep runnin’ that mouth. I like it. Like it so fuckin’ much, it just makes me wanna ruin this pussy even more,”

Y/n finally came with a loud cry as her body shook and gave out on her. “Thaaat’s it, baby,” Logan dragged as he kept y/n up, forcing her body to take more than she could.

“Maybe I should so then right now. Show them how fuckin’ limp you get on my dick,” Logan teased the girl as her hands scratched at her arms, needing some kind of slowed-down rhythm of his, but he wouldn’t give it.

“L-Lo,” y/n couldn’t stop her crying as another orgasm washed over her body. The man growled, feeling his cock twitch as he gave the young lady a few more slaps to her ass.

“Might wanna keep it down, baby. Don’t want them knowin’ you fuck with your enemy, eh? You should know I don’t care by now. I’ll fuck you at our meeting tomorrow,”

“T-Too much,” y/n cried all night, needing a break, but he didn’t care. She’s talked back to him too many times, started too many fights, and can’t keep her mouth closed. She’ll learn tonight.

[thinkinonsense]

VELVET ELVIS ❤︎

lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: fluff! domesticity! soft!logan pregnancy

author's note: this was inspired by the kacey musgraves song! just wanted to write some fluff :)

divider credit: @/roseraris

within these cabin walls, time stood still. logan liked his life and the time machine he's built himself. you and him live in a 60's dream home.

during the weekdays, logan went to work at the lumberyard while you stayed at home and worked on your paintings. when the two of you moved in together years ago, logan got you to agree to quit your job and prioritize your talents since he was able to do triple the amount of work for a normal man, money would never an issue.

on saturday's, the two of you would go into town and you would bring your art pieces to a shop downtown for them to sell. whatever money you made, you put back towards the supplies you needed because logan covered everything else.

"well, don't 'cha look like a dream" logan compliments as he watches you get ready in the mirror.

"thank you, sugar." you smile as he leans down to kiss your temple then down to your cheek.

"prettiest fuckin' thing i've ever seen." he mutters against your skin. "is this new?"

both of your eyes fall down to the satin powder blue slip dress that adorned your frame. he loved the way it looked with your pretty white mary jane boots and the small bump blooming underneath the soft material of your dress.

"yeah, picked it up earlier this week." you reply, removing the curlers in your hair and teasing the pieces of hair up high.

"love it." logan says, nibbling at your earlobe.

"logan..." you giggle, lightly shoving him away. "go get dressed so we can leave."

"yes, ma'am."

reluctantly, logan gets up and grabs the nice outfit you put together for him earlier. a fresh pair of denim jeans, a white shirt and his brown leather jacket. as an anniversary present one year, you got logan a silver star shaped belt buckle that matched the necklace he got for your birthday when you two first met. in the mirror, you watched him put it on.

"whatcha thinkin' about over there, sweetheart?" he smirks, looking up to find your eyes.

"dippin' you in honey."

"dirty. i like it."

"not like that, perv." you giggle. "just wanna be stuck to you forever."

"that's sweet." he says, walking over, bending down, and gently grabbing your chin to kiss you.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

once the two of you make it inside the tiny shop, logan brings in your painting while you greet the older ladies who own the building. all of them fawn over logan and your round tummy; telling you how lucky you are. something you never let yourself forget.

"you'll never believe what we picked up the gala last weekend." one of the grey haired women tells you.

"what did you two find?" you asked, always curious to their treasures.

"the hell kinda painting is this?" logan asks, looking sideways at one of the paintings on the wall.

the sight makes you laugh. no matter how long you two have been together, logan still struggles to see some of the beauty that you do in certain art pieces.

"i think the handsome lumberjack found it." the other lady winked as they guide you over to where logan stood. hanging upon the wall sat a velvet elvis painting.

"oh my!" you gasp.

ever since you were a little girl, you adored the painting that some would call 'tacky'.

"you like that, sweets?" he questions but you ignore it, stepping closer, running a finger along the golden frame.

"my grandma used to have one in her living room, it was her most prized possession –well, next to my grandpa."

behind you, logan could see the couple smiling to each other. too busy amazed by the painting to notice anything else around you.

“what a lucky find!” you marvel, turning around to face them.

“which is why we want you to have it.” one of them says while the other takes it down from the wall.

in shock, you shake your head insisting that you couldn’t allow them to give it away. they insist on you two taking it home, telling you to hang it somewhere nice. logan wasn’t exactly thrilled to have the painting in the home but he knew you adored it so he would never say a word out loud.

on the way home that night, you raved about the piece. logan loved hearing you talk about the things you were passionate about. he could listen to you explain color theory for hours. his own personal, prettier version of bob ross. when he brought in the painting, you told him exactly where you wanted to hang it in the living room.

“right there, baby.” you instruct him. “be careful.”

the man couldn’t be hurt if he tried but he found your warning cute. once it was hung up, you both step back to admire it. the art work did at least match the aesthetic of the house, logan could admit.

“i mean, its no mona lisa but i don’t mind it.” logan says, pulling you in to kiss your forehead.

“you know, i don’t really care for the mona lisa.” you admit with a shrug.

“really?”

“mhm, don’t like that everyone fawns over it. i want character, creativity, and something unique."

"hm.." he hums, swaying you gently.

"this painting reminds me of you." your voice meek and muffled against his shirt.

"is that so?" he asks, looking down at you.

you nod. "i want something no one else has and something no one else will ever understand the way that i do. you're my favorite work of art, lo."

"i'm only a work of art because you carved and molded me with your beautiful mind." he says, trying to allow a tear to fall down his face.

logan couldn't believe the life he'd been gifted after all the shit he's dealt with in his lifetime. he didn't deserve this; he didn't deserve you. your kindness, your warmth, your talent, your body that carries the only other human he will ever love as much as you. he would never be able to repay you for this little life and slice of peace that you've gifted him.

[minniesmutt]

are you still accepting request for the chasr atlantic thing?

meddle about x hyunjin, plss

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: HYUNJIN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS, PORN W/O PLOT, PROTECTED SEX, ORAL (M. REC, IMPLIED F. REC), CLIT PLAY, EXHIBITIONISM, CHOKING, PROTECTED SEX, IMPLIED SECOND ROUND, DADDY KINK ☾ ━━━ WC: 1K ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Y/n enjoyed it. It was just all fun but fun felt good, especially with Hyunjin, who knew exactly how to make her feel best. And she’d never leave him hanging either. No matter where they were. 

     Even at events. 

     “Ya know, everyone keeps asking about us,” Hymning grabbed as his head tilted back to the wall behind. Only getting a hum in response from the girl on her knees in front of him. Her mouth was busy on his cock. 

     He didn’t deny just how good his friends looked. He also didn’t deny when evasions at the after-party said they were jealous of how he got a girlfriend like her. He didn’t have the heart to correct them either. 

     He could barely even think straight when she pulled him off to an empty bathroom and pressed him against the wall. Lips devoured his before she sank onto her knees, undoing his belt and dress pants. Hyunjin was gone the moment her lips wrapped around his tip. 

     “Fuck,” he groaned, mind blank as his dick twitched inside her mouth. He grabbed the back of her head and pushed her down onto him. Filling her pretty mouth up with his seed. Y/n held onto his hips as she looked up at the idol with watery eyes— thankful for her waterproof mascara.

     Hyunjin pulled her back off his cock and tilted her head back, seeing her mouth full of him before she swallowed it. “Dirty girl,” he chuckled

     He helped her up off the ground and grabbed her ass, plump lips engulfing hers in a kiss. His tongue quickly found its way into her mouth. Treating the remnants of himself inside the cavern. Y/n gripped his coat as his murals wrapped around her and she leaned further into him. “Hotel,” Y/n begged as he pulled his tongue out of her throat. 

     “Yeah? Need me to fuck you just the way you like it the rest of the night? That it?” Hyunjin teased

     “Please.”

     “Please what?”

     “Please, Daddy.” 

     Hyunjin quickly fixed himself and called the car for them. Both made sure the order looked presentable before going back out. Quickly leaving the venue hand in hand and getting in the waiting car. Hyunjin played his role as an idol and waved bye to his hands that were still outside as they walked and got in the car—telling the driver to head back to the hotel. 

     Hyunjin managed to slip his hand under the slit of her dress and pressed a finger to her covered clot. Y/n looked at him, hoping the driver wouldn’t look back at them. Those thoughts didn’t last too long as he circled her clit over her panties. 

     “Soak your pants sucking me off?” Hyunjin laced over and asked, feeling the wet spot that had soaked the fabric. Y/n subtly nodded as he hooked a finger under the side of the fabric. “Take ‘em off.”

     Y/n looked at him, deducing if he was serious — he was. She subtly managed to get the fabric off her legs before placing them in his open hand. Hyunjin kissed her temple as he slipped them into his pocket before returning his finger to her aching clit. She opted to lay her head against his shoulder as he teased her the rest of the way to their hotel. Stopping his ministrations whenever she whispered to him she was close. Fully stopping once they got to the hotel. Hyunjin helped her out of the car and walked to the elevator. Y/n pressed her lips to his once the doors closed. Hyunjin happily returned the kiss and wrapped a hand around her throat. Making her moan into his mouth. “So greedy tonight.” Hyunjin smiled

     “Can you blame me?”

     “No.”

     The elevator opened to their floor and headed straight to their room. Y/n started unzipping her dress before Hyunjin even shut the door. Letting it fall to the ground before getting on the bed. Hyunjin smirked as he stepped off his suit and grabbed a condom from their luggage. 

     He stood on the side of the bed and pulled her to him. The idol rolled the rubber onto his hard cock and pushed himself into her aching cut. Y/n moaned as he filled her out. Hyunjin wrapped his hand back around her neck and started thrusting in and out of her. Y/n grabbed onto his wrists before her hands were pulled away and he instructed her to keep them above her head. 

     “Good girl,” Hyunjin smiled as she followed his instructions and used his free hand to rub her clit again. 

     Y/n gasped and clenched around him. Catching a glimpse in the hotel mirror of their position. Turning her on more and Hyunjin noticed. Teasing her and gripping her neck tighter. “Should have brought the camera. Get to see what I see every time.”

     “Hyune,” Y/n moaned

     “My baby close? Need to cum?”

     “Yes!” She managed to choke out

     “What do you say?” 

     “Please, daddy.”

     “Been good tonight. Go ahead. Cum in daddy’s cock.”

     Y/n couldn’t wait another second. Her organ ripped through her, shaking under him as he ducked her through the orgasm. Hyunjin smiled as he kept going. Fucking her as his own orgasm was approaching. Cursing under his breath and took his hands off her body. Placing them on the bed and using the momentum to thrust into her. Listening to her moan his name. Until his own dam finally broke and his cum filled the condom. 

     Hyunjin pulled out as soon as he was done.  Both took a moment to recollect themselves before Hyunjin pulled off the condom, tying up the rubber and tossing it away. “More,” Y/n said from the bed

     “Give me a few minutes then we can go again. But for now, I need to return the cache from the bathroom.” Hyunjin smiled and got onto his knees in front of her, holding her legs open and kissing her entrance. 

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© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[papaya-twinks]

mauve - l.n - p.3

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Sexism

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Taglist: @cheriiepies@jan1on@sagestack@fall-bambi@meglouise00 @eclipsedcherry @suzzie105 @rebelatbay @fly-me-away @cabbyhabs @djoenthusiast @georgeparisole @justcharlotte @cutieln4 @amz824 @coff33andb00ks @yoruse @neferaskingdom @dramaticpiratellamas @leonie404 @scarletwidow3000 @awritingtree

other parts 💜

“God, she’s so fucking infuriating,” Lando said, balancing his phone against his water bottle as he buttoned up his white shirt. “You mentioned,” Max refrained himself from rolling his eyes as Lando ignored him. “Like, why does she insist on being such an annoying little shit? Is she trying to piss me off?”.

“And that stupid little dress she wore before practise and quali,” Lando said, his mind jumping back to the memory of the dress you’d worse, the thick, knitted black minidress, the holes between the wool showing off your skin. “Is she trying to tease me or something?” Lando asked, more to himself than to Max.

“I don’t think she wore it for you,” Max said, “but you sure are getting worked up about it,”. Lando rolled his eyes as his hands ran through his selection of chains and necklaces, sliding a couple rings onto his long fingers. “I’m not worked up about shit,” Lando said, his voice sounding forced and strained.

“Whatever,” Max scoffed, knowing Lando could be a stubborn little shit sometimes, “you blocked her for making a joke, at least unblock her maybe? Proves you’re not as petty as you made out to her,”. Max did have a point, Lando supposed, as he took his phone out, hand hovering over the ‘unblock’ button.

You hadn’t even blocked him back, which onto made him look petty. God, you knew his game better than he did. “Look, me and some do the guys are gonna head down to the club, meet us there when you’re done selecting which necklace is the least feminine,” Max said as Lando snickered, hanging up.

“She’s such a-,” Lando said, showing Max the phone. “A bitch, yeah, you mentioned,” Max said, rolling his eyes, “now what are you showing me?”, he squinted at the phone, reading the comments. “Man, I put them fire emojis, I always put them and she sent the extinguisher,” Lando groaned.

“You told her she was shit as well,” Max protested weakly, knowing Lando would either flip at that, or ignore it. “Whose side are you even on?” Lando grumbled, though he did know he was being unreasonable. But he just didn’t understand why he felt so….so annoyed with simply your presence.

“Fine,” Lando said, putting his phone back down, “if she wants a social media rivalry coz she’s too shit to even bring her car close to mine,” he hissed, “she can have that,”. But yet, as Lando forced himself to try and understand and make himself believe that he hated you…he couldn’t help doing what he did next.

As much as Lando hated to admit it, you were very beautiful. He could see why people said that, though you wouldn’t catch him dead with those words on his lips. It was well past midnight by now, as Lando just scrolled and scrolled through all your photos, the ones from your F2 days, karting days.

If little Lando had been told you’d be a driver one day, and he looked at you at that age, when you were little and karting too, he would’ve probably laughed. To him, what could a girl do? Well, tomorrow was when you showed what you could do.

You’d qualified 13th, just behind Alex, which was a pretty solid result considering you were driving a cheese grater on wheels, but mow was the race. Your palms were sweaty, arms heavy as you walked onto the grid. You’d at least manage to line your car up fine, which was a good sign in some respects.

You’re nervous, you could feel your heart throbbing against your chest, but on the surface you look calm and collected, ready to drive the shit out of this race. “Hi, Y/N,” an interviewer appeared out of nowhere as you walked up and down the pit lane, silently assessing each car.

“How are you feeling for the race?” she asked as you blinked for a few seconds. You opened your mouth, you’d forgotten what you’d practised, everything you wrote down, it was all gone. The race hadn’t even begun and you’d choked already. You gave the reporter a weak smile before nodding your head and walking back to your own car.

Not an encouraging boost. As you say in the car, talking quietly to yourself, you watched the light go off to signal a formation lap. It was the same as F2 and F3, just warm up your tyres, slide to the left and right to grab some heat into them. You’d done it countless times before, you could do it again, right?

“Fuck!” you hissed as your front left tyre immediately locked up at the front corner. You just about managed to make it round the corner, but it was no doubt that that type was no overheated, and more than likely flat spotted. “God, she’s locked up already?” Lando snickered as he watched you through his rear view.

He looked forward to telling Max he was right about you being shit. You lined up into your box, a little further back than you would’ve liked, as you waited for the lights to go out. One…two…three…four…five. And out they went, your foot stamping down on the accelerator. Much to your own surprise, you’d gotten a decent start.

You barely registered the cars that you passed, making up two places already as you made it round the first corner. Thank shit. Alex had made it up to tenth, the last of the points paying position, and you were just behind. The last thing you’d ever want to do on your debut was fuck up your teammate’s and your own race.

You watched as the cars who started on soft began to file into the pits, Lando included as he tapped his steering wheel with his fingers, waiting for the tyres to change. And where did he come out? Right behind you. Great. “For fucks’ sake,” Lando cursed to himself.

“Y/N, don’t fight it,” your radio engineer said as you ignored him, defending like it was the race of your life down to the first corner. “Y/N, please, don’t overheat your tyres, this isn’t your fight,”. You didn’t care, you hated Lando. You hated that man more than anything, he was nothing but a stupid jerk, he deserved it.

“Y/N, this isn’t our race, we’re not racing Lando, I repeat, we’re not fighting Lando,” your engineer said firmly. God, fuck it. With a silent yell, you let Lando pass you, watching him wave one hand out of the side of his cockpit to you. Was that a thumbs up or a middle finger? You couldn’t tell.

You struggled with your tyres for the remainder of that stint, pitting to come out in 9th, before getting swiftly overtaken by Alex, and then Daniel. It wasn’t a bad race, yes, you’d not come in the points, but you had only gone up two places.

Fuck, Lando, he was a dick.

[minhosimthings]

Preview: Silk and Pearls || SJY

Synopsis: He was the artist, and you were his muse. But what happens when his muse doesn't see herself like the way he sees her?

Pairings: fashiondesigner!Jake * Model!fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, fingering, mirror sex, anal sex, unprotected p in v (not for you), bondage, use of handcuffs, edging, degradation, praise, sorta angsty in the beginning, insecure reader, overall good ol bf Jake, lots of kissing cause these two are FREAKS

Release Date: 29/09/2024 (subject to change)

Taglist: Open!

divider by @enchanthings

"Did I really make a dress that pretty or is it just you, my love?"

You felt your cheeks warm up drastically at the sound of your boyfriend's voice, along with his face appearing behind you. You saw his eyes light up as you stared at him in the mirror in front of you, his wandering pupils admiring how snug you looked in the dress you were wearing. With it's brilliant outlay of white chiffon along with its minute details of chartreuse pearls highlighting everything Jake wanted to, it was by far the most beautiful thing he had ever breathed life into it.

Or perhaps it was only because of the person who was wearing it.

"Don't go putting your hard work all over my shoulders again, babe." You laughed, turning your body to face his, "I'm just the model."

"The model is the muse, might I remind you." Jake corrected you, leaning in to place his forehead on yours, his love-struck eyes gazing longingly into yours, "How did I manage to capture the bouts of your affection hm, mon amour?"

"You spend one week in Paris for Fashion Week and suddenly you're a romance novelist." You laugh, raising your arms and placing them on either of his shoulders, "As for your question—" you pretended to think, all while ghosting your glossy lips over his plump ones, "—I don't think you'll ever get the answer to that."

"Shame, I was hoping you'd say something overly sweet about me." Jake laughed, before smudging his lips against yours. His ever so slender tongue moved in your mouth, as his hold on your waist tightened. Pulling away from the kiss, Jake took pride in the fact that you were quite breathless.

"Jaeyun.” you spoke in a scolding voice, lowering your voice to a comedic level, “We are at work.”

“Your point is?”

“My point is-” you looked into his beautiful eyes with nothing but love and admiration, “-there are about five people who know about our relationship, and you know you can't get into a scandal, it will positively ruin your reputation, the reputation you-” you poked his chest with your finger, “-worked so hard to achieve.”

“Let them write what they want.” Jake spoke to you in a honey coated voice, as if you were the very oxygen his lunds consumed in order to keep themselves alive, “You, my love, are practically impossible to resist.”

“You better give me your Paris lessons when we get home,” you smirked, eyes wandering down to his lush lips again, “lover boy.” The space between the both of you was practically non-existent now, and Jake could feel the pearls of your dress slightly pierce him through his thin button-up shirt. Perhaps he regretted making such a beautiful dress, especially to dress you up in it, because the way the touch of your thigh on his and felt, he could rip it off right there and then, wasting his months of hard work, and devour you against the mirror. He wished he could see your divine eyes roll to the back of your head, while he ravished your pussy with his tongue, all whilst leaving his personal signature on your thighs. After all, that was what he added the thigh-high slit in the dress for.

“Yeun,” you warned him, as his hand trailed higher up your thigh, only stopping at the sound of your voice and giving a tight squeeze to the flesh, “You can have me all you want when we get home.” The sight of the pout on his face, a stark contrast to the siren eyes he held five seconds ago, made your mouth twist into a gentle smile.

“Don’t blame me if you can’t walk tomorrow morning, love.” He smirked and went in for a kiss, as beautiful as the wavering skyline of the city, all the building lights flickering along with the stars to remind the earth of how alive it was. In the deepest parts of the kiss, where your lips danced to a tune which you had memorised, love reigned its gentle rule.

•••••••••

Tune in for the rest of it!

Taglist: @onlyhyunjin @yvnempire @j-jinxee

[thepixelelf]

superhero cheol x tech whiz reader warnings: coarse language. food. wc: 1.0k

[anonymous nights] As Seungcheol ducked behind the world’s most disgusting, foul-smelling, gag-inducing dumpster, he thought this was perhaps — no, definitely — the worst idea you’d ever had. His full-head mask was starting to itch, and he felt stupid in his suit sneaking through alleys and hiding behind trash cans.

“Remind me again why I’m following this random ass dude instead of Seo Jewon? What happened to catching the city’s ‘fourth most dangerous villain’?”

A bit of static tickled Seungcheol’s ear through the communication device implanted in his suit, which he knew meant you were getting further and further away the more he pursued the target. He had no idea where you parked your small van, aside from knowing it was somewhere in the city — a precaution put in place so Seungcheol would never be able to give away your location. Or, more accurately, so he wouldn’t risk losing the petabytes of information you’d collected over the years.

“Seo Jewon was a total red herring, this is our real guy,” you said through his earpiece.

The man he was following kept walking, and Seungcheol almost thanked him because he had to get away from whatever was polluting that dumpster. “And you know that because…?”

“Hey, who’s the brains of this operation?” You sounded slightly garbled, but Seungcheol could hear your mouse clicking in the background. “That’s right, me.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes even though he knew you couldn’t see it.

“I can feel you rolling your eyes, Solar Flare.”

Okay, maybe not.

“How do you always do that?”

He could hear your smile through the device. Maybe it wasn’t so hard. “I told you. Brains.” You tapped your mic twice, and Seungcheol winced at the plosive sound. He was about to complain when you spoke again. “Eyes up, Solar, you’re losing him.”

Glancing around, Seungcheol realized he did, in fact, lose track of the target, and he cursed under his breath. He heard you holding back laughter before you muted yourself. Picking up the pace and getting heavier on his feet, Seungcheol searched for your supposed ‘true villain’. Your silence only spurred him on; he knew you were making fun of him in your head.

You’d been assigned to him about a year ago, a decision made by the higher-ups because Seungcheol was apparently “too much of a handful” with his fiery powers (plus an equally fiery attitude), and you were the prodigious tech newbie they could force into working with him. Little did they know, spending too much time with him made you just as annoying. Hence why you and him were out tonight, chasing a completely new suspect instead of the one the bosses sent you after.

“Check your two o’clock.”

Seungcheol slipped into another alleyway, sticking close to the walls, though a load of good that did. “You know,” he said, a little breathless from his efforts to catch up to the target, “it might be a bit easier for me to tail this guy if I wasn’t dressed like Guy Fieri.”

“Hey, I didn’t design the suit, I just built it.” Your words sounded weird again. “Blame the fashion department, not me.”

“Okay, one, we don’t have a fashion department, and two, are eating cup fucking ramen right now?”

He could hear you slurping noodles up. “What? I can’t have dinner and save the city at the same time?”

“Dinner?! It’s like one in the morning!”

“I'm a busy sidekick.”

“You are not my sidekick.”

You snorted into the mic, an undignified sound you never held back from making when it was just you and Seungcheol. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”

“Whatever. Tell me you at least had breakfast.” The line went silent, and Seungcheol cursed again. “You’re a hazard.”

Seungcheol could feel your greasy smile through the comm as you cooed. “I’m your hazard, Solar Flare.”

After working together for almost a year, you still hadn’t called Seungcheol by his name. You said it was “keeping things professional”, but Seungcheol was pretty sure you just liked to tease him. Before you, no one had ever made jokes about his destructive superpowers. In fact, most people stayed away from him as much as possible. Then you came along and started saying he was your personal barbecue grill or space heater, never once afraid of his tendency to catch things on fire.

Seungcheol never told you how much he appreciated that.

“Shut up,” he mumbled.

“You lost him again.”

“God damn it.”

Seungcheol spent the next twenty minutes tailing your suspect through the city with you piping in every few turns, letting him know what he couldn’t see. He was beginning to think this was stupid. Of course this guy wasn’t the culprit, you must have been wrong — it wasn’t like you’d never been wrong before.

But then the guy turned a corner where almost no one ever went. He walked through another totally gross alley and went down some rusted outdoor basement stairs, glancing around. Almost like he didn’t want to be followed. Seungcheol silently pleaded it wasn’t what it looked like. (Though he probably shouldn’t have, considering this meant he was about to catch the bad guy.)

After the man entered the door, Seungcheol walked up to it, peering through the tiny barred window. He couldn’t see anything, so he opened the door just a crack and stepped through as quietly as he could. A dark hallway was all that greeted him, but down it, he could hear angry voices going at each other over something he couldn’t quite make out. Peeking out of the hallway, Seungcheol immediately retracted when he saw everything. A bunch of men and piles and piles of… well he didn’t know exactly what, but it didn’t look good.

“I fucking knew it!” you cheered through his earpiece. You must’ve already taken a picture during the millisecond Seungcheol had poked his head out and scanned it. “Alright, I’m calling backup.”

“What’s our cover story tonight? That I just so happened to stumble across the city’s fourth most dangerous secret lair?”

You clacked away at your keyboard. “No cover story this time. I found this guy fair and square.”

part 2 | part 3

[ultraviolencii]

catalepsy

✎ What could be better than spending the last warm days of September on your boyfriend’s lap?

cw: leon being a daddy :³, fluff, reader on the crack!! (doing some coke and shiii), semi public sex, dumbification, fingering, d in v, size diff, age diff (heavily), fem! reader, MDNI

Vegas to L.A., L.A. to Vegas, and Vegas to California. Then Italy. Your on-again, off-again relationship with Leon, which has been going on for a while (okay, let’s say about a whole year), is the epitome of chaos. Mobility and jeopardy. Lots of money. Your old life bears no shred of resemblance to the seconds you are spending now. You used to be an employee at the Graham mansion, a girl who would snoop in Ashley’s bedroom at midnight and drink the nectar between her legs until the morning. That changed when the president found out that his daughter was sleeping with some dumb no-name girl (you!). Wild times, man. Your dismissal came with the first light of the next day. It wasn’t a pretty story after that; at bottom, no money, no happily ever after.  

But luckily Ashley introduced you to him. Leon Kennedy. The man who will hire you to babysit the child he begot from a one-night stand. Oh, boy. Why, what can you say? The guy was tough, hot, but stone cold. At first, he was dead straight. But the years thresh everyone with grief and a lot of bullshit emotions in the name of experience. Say it’s because he liked the way you esteemed his son, or something else you don’t know, but the more time you spent with him, the good-natured his mettle grew. Gradually and incrementally. Sure, you looove money, but you’re no gold digger. A bond of trust, little glimmers of respect, and, of course, the sweet chemistry between the two of you spawned something very unique and new.  

Seriously, if you wiped your ass in the toilet with green and fresh dollar bills, it wouldn’t even scratch the initial letter ‘w’ in the word “wasted.” 

Hold on a second. Where does this money come from? 

You did question it. Over and over. If you got an answer, all the better. Of course, getting unambiguous answers from the mouth of a man like Leon is a big hassle; it always makes your stomach twist, it puts you on edge, and your abdominal muscles and heart squeeze so tightly that you think you must be knocked up with his child, even though the tests come back negative. You are just so silly.  

So what? It’s not a big deal. He fucking loves you. Who gives a sod about the crass mistakes you guys made in the past? He loves you so much that if he ever releases you from his lap for just a second, his brain will be tangled, scratched, scribbled, all fucked up. Like the embers of police sirens flashing blue and red in the darkness. Like 21-year-old rookie Leon’s brain, struggling to fall to sleep in the bed of a shit-strewn hotel he found at random. That Leon, a loser who broke out of Raccoon City years ago.

He doesn’t know why he’s hung up on you when he knows he shouldn’t be so attached to anyone. All he wants is to spend quality time with his pretty baby. All the time.  

The only reason for the fever in your loins, especially right now with your ass in his lap. Aje dress clings to your body angelically, the tulle over your skin. Well, that’s why he calls you an angel. Leon devotes his life to that apparition, to you, namely.  

“Thought you wanted to go skinny-dipping?” He knows. He knows you can’t leave him for the warm waters of the Mediterranean. Not right now, you know, since there’s no pedantic baby for you to babysit right now. Understand, he’s a sweet boy, Leon’s little boy. But what would he be doing on vacation, right? On your very own private and personal vacation, obviously. It’s just you and your boyfriend, and that diet Pepsi sippy cup with the cocaine in it that you’ve leaked a pinch or two into. What a late summertime activity. 

“Maybe for tonight and definitely with you,” you say it omnisciently. A short sip of coke and nothing is stopping you from lacing kisses on lips that are cherry and pulverized pink from your previous kisses, letting him taste the tiny vestiges of vanilla icys that linger on your lips, and seconds later when you slip your tongue between his to get him as high as you are in the heart of late afternoon. Leon and getting high only go the way of neat whiskey, but you’re the kind of twist that changes his rules, the kind he takes for granted.  

When his palms find your ass snug and trace your flesh with steely resolve over the top of your dress, the kiss is only broken in that very second, a sharp shake of breath drifting between your glossy lips.  

“Oww, I already told you I don’t like my ass all purple,” your repining tonal laments with a sass that is both habitual and secretly endearing to him. And you’re lying. You like your ass purple and flushed after some spanking from him.  

“What a crybaby gal you turned out to be.” Leon is, as you know, cynical. His blues are coarse; the halo of the afternoon sun striking his face through his eyelashes gives them a shade of verdant teal. It’s nothing new that he repeatedly catches you looking at his face. His face is so pretty, you can’t help it. Observant, of course, as is his job. Still, watching you contemplate him under your starry-eyed gaze tugs at his heartstrings. To fall in fucking love like this after forty is damn near unhealthy.  

He loves you when he lifts your dress and catches the licentious view he wants to capture; he loves you when you refused to put your panties on when you left your hotel room and went out for brunch on the terrace. Especially the notch you make as the air is ripped out of your lungs, embodying your purity, is everything for Leon. It’s heart-stopping, which is why it doesn’t bode well for his heart. What if he fucking died of a heart attack? The alcohol (and earlier bout of seizures that lasted for a while before you) had already fucked up and altered his body enough. Oh, meh.  

“Got wet, hmm?” Captain Obvious can’t be more serious. But he sounds adorable, so you don’t say anything to put him off. Over and above that, his thumbing of the clam of your clit is a fucking must-have class.  

“How the hell have you been sitting like this all morning? My poor girl.” Simultaneously, his head lifts up and his finger dips into your wetness; your pussy fits just nicely; he leers at you, deadpan, straight into your eyes. It’s affectionate, yeah, but his eyes are... you don’t know. There’s something about them. 

“Dunno,” you gasp out, “maybe just to keep you from overworking yourself, old man,” you tighten up, but even that doesn’t stop you from throwing in an allusion to his given age. Leon finds it funny; it’s cute, and it’s a chore, but it’s another matter that he plays rather meanly with your clit, parsing and stroking the pulp until the puck flickers on his thumb. It’s the fingers, sculpted by years of drill, that you cum on the spot. Pathetic. The grains of fizzy cola splashed from the pint in your hand and the liquid that washes over you. The mess on the navy-blue shirt Leon decided to throw on at the last minute. He’s not mad; don’t even worry about that stuff.  

“Sure, baby, sure, you just makin’ sure the old man stays safe.” His quirky drawl rings in your ears as your clit tinkles on his thumb. The sight is a blessing for him, but of course the cock menu before the evening hits is what you want, and in the night, he wants your pussy; he wants to eat you out before a good night sleep. It’s a must.

Isn’t that just mutual love? Aww. Then, of course, it won’t be long before you’re whining and pestering the hell out of him, and he’s taking the glass full of coke from your hand to place it on the table behind you so he can take the shaft of his cock and slap it into your warm, sucking hole, the leaky tip wetting the even wetter entrance.  

Everybody craves an afterglow, and men like Leon crave a good fuck, precisely a pretty girl bouncing on his dick on his vacation.

That’s the norm. You do the rest, taking him nicely and squeezing the dick little by little, lingering until a little bump forms in your tummy; it’s just what the book says. He’s big, no lies. Hard, too, but that’s nothing new. 

“Fuuuucks,” are panted out. You both do it. You because of that pain and sheer pleasure, and he just has pleasure, his pain is for much disparate motives. There’s always a desire to sink his dick deeper, but you are always tight, wet, too, thank God, but just too tight for him to sculpt your insides around his cock.  

When he bottoms out, your pitch is invariably more slurred and more aggressive, and your pussy plays like a virgin for his cock. You can hardly even hold your head up; it’s so heavy. It’s the voice of his in your head that brings you back to the Mediterranean afternoon when you feel like you’re caving in, like you’re just about to split in half. Beautifully.

“Baby, you’ll get us kicked out of the this damn hotel,” his cautionary lulling is in your ears at last. Who cares? He’s got the dough; he can hire; hell, he can buy a whole hotel building.  

“Shh, you ain’t gonna pass out on me now, doll,” somewhere in his voice there’s distress, but his expectant gaze on you is dense. Still, he doesn’t act like a complete asshole and assuredly grips your hips to tuck you back, right on the mean dick. Next thing you know, he’s tattooing your cervix as he jacks you like a doll, his doll, on his thick cock. Raw as always, so what’s a condom? That’s what the pill is for.  

The magic of kisses, sloppy, slobbery blows on the lips, the trick of a cock that fires bullets in and out of you, busing your clit, rocks the whole world away, and rattles the chaise lounge beneath you. You’re already a goner. Like hell. Blood and sweat, metaphorically speaking, that’s not going to fetch the guy cumming within you after your second orgasm. You can complain later, ‘cause realistically, no man could be that good. But Leon’s the best of the best, so who knows? Maybe he’s been in this business many times before you, with pretty girls and inside even prettier pussies.

The very thought that makes your heart skitter inside, urges you to cling to him and shove your face into his chest. It’s something he wasn’t expecting, so Leon almost hesitates to cradle your face. He’s cumming instantly, nowhere that fast, but deep, sticky, cozy, and adhesive. It’s not the most satisfying aftermath in this summer heat, but your cunt is still milking deliciously (greedily) what’s leaking into it. So it is exactly in these moments that Leon realizes once again that you will always accept him no matter what. Fuck it, he should just make you his controversially younger wife. The companionable silence between you is something; how the sun filters down over the horizon, and how your breathing is now regaining its normal rhythm; his balls are now much lighter. How romantic.

“When will you marry me?”  

His question is an impulsive one that pierces the stillness. Is this guy serious, or is he just fucking with you? Are you too high? Oh man, it was just a little pinch of crack cocaine in the cola. Can’t be that loaded, right?

Your lack of words and the fog on your face are too opium; it’s like a sugar high. What a silly girl you are, his girl. In sooth, while he’s still inside you, he needs to ask you one more time, “the ring is in the room. I shit you not. We gotta call it a wedding.” Just say yes already.

[shepherds-of-haven]

How would the ROs rate their own attractiveness? Like do they consider themselves attractive?

Huh, good question!

Blade: he is distantly aware that other people/society in general considers him to be good-looking in some capacity. (By Ket standards, he and Gladius both are considered to be blessed with markedly good looks, but almost in a 'pretty boy' kind of way. Gladius is considered like stunningly beautiful while Blade has more of 'effortlessly hot' aura). So he would say other people probably think he's "above-average" in looks (but he also believes it to be more of a muscularity/strength thing than things like his facial features. Like women, if they do find him attractive, probably think so because he looks like a strong provider LMAO). But he himself doesn't think about his own attractiveness or appearance beyond what good hygiene and proper presentation dictate... he hardly spares himself a glance in the mirror most days. As you can tell by his haircut choices

Trouble: he considers himself to be average in looks, neither particularly handsome or particularly ugly, just exactly in the middle of the road! If asked to describe his own attractiveness in more detail, he'd probably say something like, "I clean up okay. I'm a decent-looking working-class guy? *shrug* I don't think anyone would be mad if I showed up at their doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, but artists aren't swooning over my cheekbones, either"

Tallys: Tallys considers herself to be a good-looking woman, probably an 8 if we're using a scale, a 9 if she put more effort into being conventionally beautiful (doing things like growing out her hair (!), using makeup or perfume, dressing well, etc.). She's confident in her own attractiveness and doesn't find much fault with her own features or body, but she also knows that doesn't mean she's everyone's specific cup of tea, either! She just believes that, according to a general standard, she rates highly in most areas, and no one could sincerely call her ugly. It helps that she's an Elf, since most of them have a high standard of confidence when it comes to their natural beauty!

Shery: before she joined the Shepherds, she believed herself to be average or below-average, and believed herself to be "mousy": hiding behind her bangs and spectacles was not something she ever saw conventionally beautiful people doing, so she grew up thinking she was forgettable or unremarkable, though not necessarily ugly or outright unattractive. Just sort of "plain." However, since joining and noticing that there are people who seem to compliment or even crush on her, she's since come to tentatively revise that opinion and thinks she could probably be considered "cute" by some people's standards, but she still thinks that her personality makes it hard for anyone to really notice her or become completely enthralled by her... so she would say she's probably like a 6 or 7 by looks alone, which she's content with!

Riel: as like a work of art or a painting (so judging by pure aesthetics alone, devoid of other considerations), he believes he rates around an 8 just going by the symmetry of his facial features, his taste in clothes, the fact that he's well-groomed, but he's a bit self-conscious of how he rates in terms of desirability or sexual appeal, which is a different thing entirely (in his own mind). Like, you can admit a painting is beautiful, but you don't want to fuck a painting? In those terms, he believes he falls well below the standards of the masculine ideal, probably resting at a 5, though he believes he makes up for it in other areas (wealth, intellect, uniqueness, etc). It doesn't bother him that much, but it is something that he is aware of at the back of his mind!

Chase: He thinks he's pretty good-looking (🙄), but that the effect is best felt and supplemented by his in-person charisma, charm, aura, and general personality. This is an extremely topical/dated example, but it's sort of like how a lot of people were largely indifferent to Glen Powell going strictly by looks alone, but then they saw him acting in Twisters or Top Gun or whatever and saw his chemistry with his co-stars and were suddenly like "oh 😳" Like he needs to be seen in action to really feel attracted to him?? Anyway, Chase thinks that if you were to see a perfect painting of him in a gallery, he's good-looking enough alone to make you stop and admire him, so probably like an 8... but his magnetism in person brings that to a 10 LOL

Red: He "doesn't really think about it" (🙄)--he more spends time grooming and styling himself to his own standards rather than really fretting over what other people would perceive or rate him as, but if you really pressed up, I think he'd say he's an 8 on a good day, potentially a 9 if he were to try very hard, but he'd sort of vaguely look around at everyone else to confirm if this was an arrogant thing for him to say lol, so he's definitely not totally sure about it! There aren't too many things he finds fault with when it comes to his physical appearance or body--he's generally satisfied and content in that department--but he also would never argue he's some great show-stopping beauty or gorgeous model: he just quietly lives with the idea that most people think he's a naturally pretty handsome guy!

Ayla: this is sad, but she probably rates herself a 3, maybe a 4 on a good day. 😕 Ayla thought she dispensed with thinking about her own appearance or attractiveness long ago, having accepted the fact that most people perceived her as this ragged, scrappy loner who mostly lived on the road and was lucky if she could find a stream to wash her hair in. She never possessed a mirror and, the rare times she stayed in a room that had one, she used it to check herself over for hidden injuries or things on her back and then went on her way... and none of this really mattered to her because she spent so much of her time alone. No one was really looking at her, she wasn't looking at herself, so who cared if she looked like a half-drowned rat with her hair growing into her eyes while she shook sand out of her clothes? Since joining the Shepherds, however, her private consciousness of her appearance has naturally increased, and sometimes she can feel quite down about it (especially when faced with the elegant grace of Tallys, the feminine cuteness of Shery, or the show-stopping beauty of Lavinet). Part of being in a group that she avoided was the vulnerability of natural comparison: no one's comparing you to anyone if you stand alone, but with the Shepherds, of course that's going to happen, even if only in her own mind... Anyway, this is a lot to say that she considers herself to be below-average in attractiveness, but is filled with a sullen self-loathing and pride when she considers doing anything to try to change that fact, so she just... resigns herself to feeling that way forever, if that makes any sense!

Briony: she thinks she's cute and can edge over into pretty when she tries really hard, so she'd probably say she hovers between a 6 and a 7 on an average day? While she thinks she has advantages like her striking hair color and eyes, she has areas that she privately feels a bit insecure about: she feels her face is too round, her nose is too short, feels like she's a bit short and compact and boyish in body when she's rather be tall and leggy like Tallys or buxom and curvaceous like Lavinet, etc. etc. It's not something that really bothers her--she figures that everybody feels that way about themselves--so she's happy with being "above-average" on most days. It's only when she's crushing on somebody and isn't sure of how they perceive her that she gets really unsure and self-conscious about it, and then she really obviously throws herself into styling herself to appear more feminine!

Lavinet: don't hate her, but she definitely thinks she's a 10 LOL. This is partly due to the fact that, by Blest beauty standards, she pretty much is a paragon of desirability, and everyone in her life has treated her as if she were a 10 or even outright said so... so there's really no reason for her to think otherwise! There are always small things she would tweak if she gave any thought to it, but in general she's been very happy with her appearance and how she's been able to use it as a tool to accomplish her goals in life!

Halek: he is well aware that he's gorgeous... he wouldn't say this out loud because he knows he'd get endlessly ragged on, but he'd probably say he's a 10 LMAO, maybe 9 so as to give the appearance of some humility... It's not even something he's arrogant about, he's just like aware of general beauty standards and is like 'yeah by no choice of my own and by complete accident of birth, i happen to fit these really well? *shrug*" It's nbd... and it's part of where his bde comes from, I'm sure

[eclipseslayer]

A HARD DECISION

• OUTLAW!TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!READER SMUT ONESHOT

• SUMMARY: Toji Fushiguro steps into a saloon after making a kill, and when he sees you, he knows he has to persuade you so he can bunk with you, which, luckily, isn't too hard.

• CW: Penatrative sex, mentions of fingering, pulling out (😔).

• WC: 2kish.

Toji comes to a standstill; his boots clank against the dry, desert dirt with a thud. Heavy boots shift into the dirt beneath him as Toji spreads his legs, coming into a unwavering position as his hands slowly find their way to hover trepidatiously over his guns that sit in their holsters that are strapped to each thigh.

His hands curl into fists, and then they unfurl slowly, while green eyes stare down his opponent that stands about twenty feet from him. Anxiety rages through his hands as he recites the mantra in his head,

Kill 'em like you always do, Toji.

then, suddenly, his hands are still once confidence fills his body. His eyes dart to the left and to the right, and sees that practically the whole town is lined up—leaning against their buggies and the railing of the storefronts, watching this showdown between him and his opponent.

He grins. Looks like I gotta show to put on.

He lets out a slow breath after collecting his thoughts, while his eyes return back to his opponent standing far from him, feeling tension rise in the air as tumbleweeds pass between them.

Suddenly, the tension breaks when Toji's eyes narrow to his opponent's hand, which quickly slips into his holster to retrieve his gun, but, Toji doesn't even give his opponent a chance to grasp the handle before acting, demonstrating his quick reflexes as Toji quickly slings his guns onto his fingers; whips them out of their holsters, and grips the handles firmly. His thumbs flick the safety off like blowing out a candle, and he lights it again when his index fingers quickly press the trigger.

Bam, bam, bam!

Three shots fire, and each of them hit his opponent, making him jolt with each shot until he collapses onto the ground.

Toji sighs, feeling the anxiety from earlier quickly fade, and a grin appears on his face while he watches the smoke rise from his guns.

He pulls his bandana cowl down; blows out the gunsmoke, and gives it a quick whiff, enjoying the satisfying moment from the kill, and then places his guns back into their holsters before pulling the cowl back up.

He sighs and moves his head around once he feels relaxed enough and sees that the crowd has dissipated, mumbling to themselves as they go back to their daily routines, meanwhile, Toji rubs the back of his head, figuring he could go for a drink.

He makes his way to the saloon, boots clinking as he makes his way. He pushes the swinging doors open with a big boot and steps into the saloon with a thud.

Luckily, everyone stays busy in the crowded saloon, not bothering to look at Toji as they play card games, or are flirting with the saloon girls, or are drunk off their asses.

He dips his head, and pulls the brim over his eyes as he makes his way through the loud, bustling saloon, shoving and pushing past people. He steps over a few drunkards passed out onto the floor before he finally reaches the bar, where he sighs once he sits upon a bar stool.

His eyes flick over to the bartender, which, surprisingly was a woman, who was dressed quite scantily as she wore a her skirt quite short as it met her knees, and a pretty, colorful corset covered the top half of her body. He raised an eyebrow, and a smirk pried at his lips from underneath the cowl.

You seem to spot Toji as you quickly whip your head around. You look at him for awhile—probably judging his appearance—and then make your way over.

You give Toji a cheery smile and brace the countertop with your forearms.

"Well, aren't you that fella that was outside just now, gunnin' down that other fella?" You grin and clasp your hands together.

Amused, Toji chuckles. "Yes ma'am," Toji replies, simply.

"Well, that was quite the shootin' I saw out there. I was amazed, honestly," you grin and begin to draw shapes on the countertop. "We don't see much of that 'round these parts. Why'd ya shoot that fella anyway?"

Toji sighs, a groan begs to slip from his lips but he withholds it, just to keep the lady pleased. "Got told to kill 'em. Simple as that."

Your eyes widen suddenly and you gasp. Your hands grip the edge of the counter as you suddenly bounce excitedly.

"Oh my Lord! Are you... what do ya call 'em? One of them uh... you know..." You lean in, "...assassins?" You whisper before leaning back. You reach behind yourself and grabs a bottle of whiskey and an empty glass, and start pouring while you keep your gaze on Toji.

Toji watches her as you pour the drink. He nods. "...Maybe. What are ya gonna do if I am?" He replies with a slight edge to his tone, eyeing you once you finish pouring the whiskey. You slide the glass over to him and shrug simply.

"Dunno. Just find it fascinatin' I suppose." You brace the counter again.

Toji pulls the glass toward him, and pulls down his cowl and then takes a sip. He furrows his brow as the amber liquid drowns his tastebuds—tasting nothing but a harsh, smoky flavor—and then travels smoothly down his throat. He sighs after he swallows.

"Is that right?" Toji mutters before taking another sip.

He furrows his brow again once he hears you gasp.

"Oooh! Ya got a scar on your lip..." You say, ignoring Toji's previous question as you point at it. You lean forward, your elbows resting on the countertop and lean your chin onto your palms. "I like it."

Toji's eyes widen at your comment, as it was the last thing he expected from you, although, you are a saloon girl, so he supposes he should've been able to guess it.

He swirls his drink around in his glass. "Really? Ya like it, doll?"

Your eyes widen at the sudden nickname and you nod slowly. "Yeah. Mmhmm. Looks dangerous..." you lean in a bit closer. "I like danger."

Toji finds this conversation all too amusing as a grin crawls onto his lips. He takes another swig of his drink.

"Yeah? Do you now? You know uh..." He leans in, closer to you, and he whispers into your ear. "I'm not even supposed'ta be here, doll."

You pull back a bit, your eyes twinkling. "Really? How come?"

His eyes shift up to the poster that's nailed to the wall behind her and he nods his head at it. "Take a gander."

You freeze for a second, and then slowly you turn around. Your eyes widen even more and you feel your heart suddenly pound in your chest when you feel so quickly gobsmacked.

A poster hangs up for the wanted fugitive of Toji Fushiguro, with a prize worth a million American dollars.

You swallow thickly, and then your body turns itself back around as you make eye-contact with the man in the poster.

"I could turn you in and be rich," you mutter, your words rolling off your tongue in a moment of realization as you stare at the man in front of you.

"You could," Toji takes the final sip of his drink before slamming the glass down onto the countertop, right next to your hand. He leans in, the rich smell of whiskey on his breath as it graces your ear, "or, ya could gimme a place'ta stay, sweetheart."

—

It was a hard decision, really.

So hard, in fact, that you whine as you sink down onto Toji's hard cock.

"That's it... yep... jus' like that, sweetheart," Toji murmurs as his large, calloused hands find your hips and grips them tightly, and begins to guide you up and down on his cock.

Your head is spinning. Out of the many times you've brought a man up to the room above the saloon, you've never felt a man treat you this good.

So far, you've been fingered. Twice.

Now, he sits your fucked-out brain onto his big, thick cock that nearly splits you in half, and has your legs wanting to clamp at his sides, but, Toji notices this and moves his hands to your thighs to keep them spread.

"Nuh-uh, none of that, now, doll, keep 'em spread," he commands, and he punctuates it with a harsh slap to your ass, making you whine.

"Toji!" You squeak, and your eyes roll back.

"That's my name, girlie," a wry grin appears on his lips and he pulls his hand back again before smacking your ass another time. He grunts as he feels you pulse around his cock.

"Keep, sayin' it. Like it when ya scream my name when you're stuffed with my cock."

Slap!

"Toji!" You moan, loudly again and Toji lifts up his hips, and begins to thrust harshly into you as you stay on top of him.

"There we go," he coos in your ear. "Just like that."

"Toooojiiiii!" You moan with every thrust, as each movement makes his cock hit the back of your g-spot.

It moves in and out, and it fills you up so deliciously, leaving no room for questions simply because you feel him so squished and snug within your walls, as if he's scraping inside you, digging for something. Maybe, digging for gold as he hits that spot that sends shocks through your body.

"Got a pretty mouth on ya, sweetheart. Keep moanin' my name like that."

"Tojiiii!" This time it was more whiney than the last as your breath falls short. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continues to hit that spot, over, and over, and over, and over again.

It's like a rollercoaster, except, you're going all the way up every single time Toji thrusts in and out of you, and now, you feel as if you're teetering over the edge.

"Toji I'm—"

He interrupts you with another slap to your ass which leaves him grunting as he feels you squeeze and throb around him. Fuck. You're squeezing his cock so tightly that it makes his balls ache with a need to release.

"I know, sweetheart. Just... haaa... fuck, fuck, I'm close, too," he groans, unable to keep it in any longer because of how good your squeezing him.

"Toji!"

It was your last, final warning as you feel the rollercoaster fly down it's tracks, making you squeeze and convulse around Toji as you finally cum. White liquid gushes out of you and runs onto Toji's cock, making him groan loudly.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm cumming too—" he curses and, with a grunt, he grips the globes of your asscheeks and lifts you off of him, and spills onto his stomach as he finally cums.

You're both a panting, wet mess as you come off of your orgasms, just laying against each other. There's a good moment of silence before you speak up again, murmuring,

"After another round, I'm getting rich today."

[pasaatimonarkin]

No crying in the Burlesque club I part 6

Han Jisung x reader feat. OT8 Stray kids

Mafia!au

Warnings: cursing, guns, mentions of blood, sexual language, SMUT at the end [please skip the end if you are a minor or don't feel comfortable readind smut]

Word count: 9,9k [I have no idea how it got so long]

part 5

The moments kept replaying in your mind as you got dressed. Han wiped the sweat off his forehead before zipping up his jeans. His eyes never left you and you could feel his gaze pierced on your back as you put your lingerie back on. 

As you put your dress back on, you got startled as you felt Han’s hands on your back, helping you zip up the dress. “Thank you” you whispered over your shoulder and Han gave a light kiss on the top of your head.  

“Ready?” Han asked as he moved to the door. You stepped into your heels and nodded, taking a deep breath before leaving the room behind Han. 

"Oh, you were already waiting for me?" you heard Coco flirt as she saw only Han leaving her room. 

"It's not what it looks like," Han says with a smirk, while you stand behind him, your hair a mess and a hint of lipstick smudged on your cheek. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at her blatant disregard for your relationship, but you bite your tongue. 

You walked past Coco with a sense of defiance, wiping your mouth to indicate that you did something intimate in her dressing room. The smell of her perfume lingered in the hallway, but it was overpowered by the musky scent of sex that clinged to your skin. Your eyes never met hers, and you could feel the weight of her gaze as you pass. 

Coco's mouth opens to say something, but no words come out. You've seen that look before – a mix of surprise and annoyance. It's the look of someone who thought they had the upper hand, only to realize they were playing a game they didn't understand. Han's smirk only widens as he follows you, his hand sliding into yours. 

As you exit the club into the cool night air, Han turns to you with a glint in his eye. "I hope that was enough to prove my point," he says, his voice low and teasing. "But if it wasn't, I can always give you a repeat performance." He tugs at your hand gently, pulling you closer. You can feel the heat of his body, and the memory of his touch is still electric on your skin. 

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. "I think you made it pretty clear," you reply, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. Han chuckles, squeezing your hand as he opened the passenger seat door for you and you slid in to the seat. 

"I have to say that I'm proud" Han says after he takes a seat next to you. You raise your eyebrow, "Proud of what?" 

Han smiles as he does what you did when going past Coco and wipes the side of his mouth, not breaking eye contact with you. You blushed. You didn't mean to be that bold, but you also wanted To make Coco know that Han was off the market. 

"So, are we together?" you blurt out, suddenly feeling the need to clarify your relationship status. Han's smile turns into a grin as he starts the engine. "What do you think?" he asks, his voice filled with amusement. 

He shifts gears smoothly, his eyes never leaving the road as he continues. "I mean, if having sex in a someone’s dressing room doesn't scream 'exclusive', I don't know what does." You swat at his arm playfully, trying to ignore the way your stomach flutters at his words. 

"You're terrible," you say, but the smile on your face gives you away. Han's teasing is a familiar dance, one that you've both performed many times. It's his way of diffusing tension and keeping things light.  

"Come on, don't tell me you didn't enjoy it," he says, his eyes glancing at you briefly before returning to the road. "You looked like you could take on the world when you left that room." The car's headlights cut through the darkness as you drive away from the theater, leaving the sounds of laughter and music behind. 

You hesitate, then decide to ask the question that's been bothering you since the moment you left the dressing room. “I have noticed that you stopped calling me with nicknames. Why is that?" The silence stretches out between you, filled only with the hum of the engine and the sound of your own breathing. 

Han looks at you, a smile forming in his lips “It was my way of flirting. But then I stopped because your name is the sexiest pet name I know," he says, his voice a low rumble. 

You can't help but feel a warmth spread through you at his words. The jealousy from earlier had dissipated, replaced by a renewed sense of belonging. You lean back into the leather seat, watching the passing streetlights flicker across Han's profile. His hand is still in yours, and the warmth of his touch comforting. 

Once you get to the house, you both head to the kitchen, and Han starts rummaging through the fridge. You lean against the counter, watching him, the adrenaline from the encounter still coursing through your veins. You had so many thoughts flying through your mind. You had so many feelings towards Han though you weren’t sure if you should. You were kind of scared of your feelings, because you had never had a real relationship before. “I’m going to bed” you finally mumbled, not feeling like eating anything. 

Han looks over his shoulder, a question in his eyes. "You’re not hungry?" he asks, mouth full of leftover food. You smile softly at his squirrel-like cheeks, “Nah. I’m just tired”. You fidget with your fingers and look down at them before continuing. “You could join, if you want” you mumble. 

Han's smile softens, and he closes the fridge door, stepping towards you. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. "Is that what you want?" he whispers, his breath warm against your neck. You nod, feeling your body relax into his embrace. He kisses you gently and you can taste the salty hamburger in his lips.

You lead him to your room and began to change your clothes to comfier ones. Han takes off his clothes, leaving him only in his boxers. You can’t help but blush as flasbacks from the club fill your mind. Han climbs under the covers and you crawl into bed beside him, and he pulls the covers over you both. You lay there, nestled in his arms, feeling the steady beat of his heart. His hand traces patterns on your back, soothing the last of your nerves. You close your eyes, letting the comfort of his embrace wash over you. 

"You know," you say, your voice a whisper in the quiet room, "I don't think I've ever felt so... wanted." 

Han's hand pauses on your back, his grip tightening for a brief moment. "What do you mean?" 

You sit up, looking into his eyes. "I mean, I've had flings, and casual relationships, but nothing that's ever felt... real. Nothing that's made me feel like I could trust someone completely." 

Han's expression turns serious, his gaze holding yours. "And now?" 

You take a deep breath, feeling your heart race. "Now, I think... I think maybe I've found someone I could trust," you say, the words leaving your mouth in a rush. You bite your lower lip, waiting for his response, feeling vulnerable and exposed. 

Han's eyes searched yours, his expression unreadable for a beat too long. Then, his arms tighten around you, and he whispers, "You can trust me." The sincerity in his voice is like a balm to your soul, soothing the raw edges of your insecurities. You lean into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his chest against your cheek. 

For a moment, you're lost in the comfort of his touch, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. Then, you pull back to look at him again, needing to be sure. "Really?" 

Han's smirk returns, but there's a softness to it now. "Yes, really," he says, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "I know it's not the most romantic declaration, but I'm not exactly Shakespeare." He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek. "But if it makes you feel better, I'd say you're more than just 'wanted' to me." 

You laugh, feeling your cheeks warm at his teasing. "Well, that's a relief," you reply, poking his chest lightly. He captures your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles before placing it back on his chest. 

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you decide to ask a question that's been niggling at the back of your mind. "Han," you begin, your voice soft, "have you ever felt this way about anyone before?" You watch his expression, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt. 

Han looks at you, his eyes serious. "I've had my share of flings," he admits, his voice a low murmur. "But nothing serious, no. Nothing that's made me feel... like I do with you." He runs his thumb over your hand, his gaze never leaving yours.  

The confession hangs in the air, and for a moment, you're not sure how to respond. You swallow hard, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. You've never been the girlfriend, never been the one someone talked about with that kind of intensity. You've always been the casual fling, the one who didn't get the emotional attachment.  

You decide to not ask further and press your head back on his chest, reaching your arm over his stomach. Han tightens the grip around you, “Good night” he whispers, placing a kiss on top of your head. “Good night” you mumble against his chest and close your eyes. Maybe I shouldn’t think this so deeply. We kissed, we fucked, we confessed. I should just relax, you think before falling asleep. 

- 

You were having a peaceful evening for once. It was just you, Han and Jeongin watching tv. It felt like a normal day with no operations or twirling your body for men’s pleasure. But you should have seen it coming that a evening like this would not stay like this for long. 

The sudden buzz of your phone jolted you upright. It was a message from Chan, summoning you all to his office – even you. Your heart skipped a beat. The words on the screen were commanding: "Meeting. Now." The room grew quiet, as Han and Jeongin stared at their phones, reading the same message. You knew what it meant, Strays had a new mission incoming, 

You stood up and made your way towards Chan’s office, Hyunjin, Changbin and Lee Know joining you from the garage. Han and Jeongin filed behind you as you stepped to his office. Seungmin was already there, his eyes gleaming behind thick-rimmed glasses, already had his laptop at the ready. 

Changbin leaned against the wall, arms folded. The others scattered around the room. Han was standing tall beside you, his hand resting lightly on the gun holstered at his waist.  

Chan sat at his desk. His eyes were sharp, scanning the room as you took your positions around him. He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight, and announced, "There's a party tonight at the Golden Hall. The boss of the Blackjacks is going to be there. We need to get to him, get him to talk if he knows anything about who the Red Dragons are working with."  

Han's gaze locked with yours for a brief moment before he broke the silence. "What's the plan?"

Chan's expression grew serious. "Hyunjin, you're the bait. We need you to draw Kang’s attention." 

Hyunjin nodded, a sly smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Always happy to play the fool for the cause." 

"You're our extraction plan," Chan said, looking at Felix, "If things go south, you're to get in, grab the boss, and get out. Don't engage unless absolutely necessary. Your speed is our advantage." 

Felix nodded, the tension in his posture relaxing slightly. 

"Jeongin, you're with Hyunjin. Keep an eye on him. If things get messy, make sure he doesn't get too carried away with the act." 

"Always do, boss." Jeongin nodded. 

Chan's gaze fell on you last. "Y/N, you're with Han. Your job is to make Kang talk incase he doesn’t talk to Hyunjin". His voice was a low rumble, leaving no room for interpretation. 

The room spun around you as his words sank in. Shock ricocheted through your body like a stray bullet, leaving you stunned. Me? Taking part in a mission? Chan had been so protective that he still hadn’t given you permission to go in your own apartment or into the Burleque club alone. Now he was suddenly counting you as one participating in their mission?

"What?" You asked in disbelief "you want me to participate?" 

Han took a step closer to Chan, "Isn't it too dangerous? " 

Chan's eyes narrowed. "I know the risks, but she's part of this family now. And if she's willing to be with you, then she knows what she's signing up for." 

You eyes widened, your breath catching in your throat. Did he know about Han and me? The room felt suddenly suffocating. You searched his face, but his expression was stern like always when looking at you. 

"How long have you known?" You managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Chan raised an eyebrow, his eyes flicking between you and Han. "Long enough. But that's not what this is about." He leaned forward, his hands folding into fists on the desk. "This mission is too important to leave anything to chance. It's a mafia party and they want women in there, that's why every group of attending men need at least one woman" 

"How can you suddenly make me go in the heart of danger if you couldn't even let me stay at my own goddam apartment?" You ask, my voice raising with anger. 

Chan's expression remains unchanged, his gaze unwavering. "You're a part of this whether you like it or not," he says, his voice as cold as steel. "You chose to be with him, and that means you're in." 

"But I can't—" You start to protest, your voice shaking with fear and anger. 

Chan holds up a hand, silencing you with a look that could cut glass. "You can, and you will," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. 

"Seungmin will get you the floorprints of the Hall, memorise them so you know where you are moving. Y/n you go inside with Hyunjin, Jeongin and Han. Hyunjin and Jeongin go to talk to Kang. Pretend to be interested in his group. Y/n and Han are there for look out, if he won't talk, send y/n to seduce him. Changbin will wait with the car outside in case something goes south. And like said Felix keeps eye on it outside and Lee Know is going to be prepared here" 

Your stomach twisted into knots. Seduce him? You had never been in a situation like this before.  Everyone else nodded, understanding the plan and it's risks but you couldn't get your head around it. 

"Wait seduce the boss? Who do you think I am, a hooker?" 

The room grew tense, everyone's gaze on you. Your heart raced as the reality of the situation sank in. 

"No. But considering your work, I expect you to know how to get to men. You got one of my men didn't you?" Chan said but there was no tease or joking in his voice. 

"What does that mean?" 

Chan's eyes bore into me, his voice low and measured. "It means you know how to use what you've got to get what you want. And right now, what we need is for you to get close to Kang, get him talking. Whatever it takes. Hyunjin is good at making people talk without them noticing but Kang loves women. You are our second best shot at getting him to tell about the Red Dragon’s deals." 

You felt the weight of his words, the implication clear. Your throat went dry. You just couldn’t believe that your own borther just told you to there and make a dangerous mafia boss drool for you. 

Chan's gaze moved around the room, his eyes meeting each of you in turn. "Alright," he said, his tone final. "Get ready. We leave in an hour." 

Everyone started to leave the room, going in the own rooms to get ready, get some suits on and make sure their guns were loaded and ready in case needed. You walked from the room your heart racing, Han following you closely and closing the door behind him. 

" I knew Chan would be pissed if he found about us, but this? What happened to all the you must stay safe talk?" You ask Han, the annoyance and afraidness could be heard in your voice clearly. 

"I'm not sure" Han says, his face showing the uncertainty of the situtation. But he knew he had to listen to the boss, like he had for many years. ”I don’t like this either”. 

At the same time you were slightly interested on what happened in their missions like these, but fear had the upper hand. Han took your hand in his, squeezing it tightly. ”I’m sorry” he said quietly, eyes not leaving yours. Your face softened, ”It’s not your fault. Chan hates that we went behind his back. This is his way of revenging, making us regret it. But…we can handle it, I’ll try my best” you said, trying to reassure you more than Han, 

Han's grip tightened around your hand. "I'll be with you," he assured, his voice a comforting rumble. "And I won't let anything happen to you." 

You nodded, trying to believe him, trying to believe in yourself. The walls felt closer than ever, the air thick with the weight of what was to come.  

In the quiet of your room, You stared at the mirror, eyes wide with anxiety. You had an hour to become someone else, someone who could charm a dangerous mafia boss and survive to tell the tale. You let out a shaky breath and picked a dress from the closet. A sleek, burgundy dress. It was tight, clinging to every curve, and dangerously low-cut, leaving little to the imagination. You stepped into some golden heels and opened your hair from the messy bun it had been in the day.  

Seungmin had already texted you the floorprints of the Golden Hall and you did your best to take in most of it. Memorizing how to get from room to room.

You brushed your hair before tucking it into a tight ponytail. While getting ready you had decided to act strong no matter what happened. You couldn’t give Chan the satisfaction of knowing you couldn’t handle this kind of life, because you had to. You had formed something special with Han, and you weren’t going to let it go because of him. 

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, doing your best with your makeup. You painted on a mask of seduction, darkening your eyes and reddening your lips, until you barely recognized the woman staring back at you. Doing your own Burlesque make up had it’s advantages, making you able to make yourself look like a seductress who could charm her way out of any situation—or so you hoped. 

The door creaked open, and Han stepped into the room, his eyes scanning over you. He'd changed into a tailored black suit that hugged his frame like a second skin, a white button up shirt and a crimson tie laid against his chest.  

"You look beautiful," he murmured, his voice a warm caress that sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes lingered on your face, like he was trying to see the real you behind all the makeup.  

"Thank you," You murmured, turning to face him fully. His eyes traveled over you, lingering on the curves the dress accentuated. You could feel his desire, a silent flame that burned just as hotly as the fear that coiled in your stomach. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. 

"You don't look bad either," You said, trying to lighten the mood. Your voice wavered slightly, betraying the nerves that danced just beneath the surface. Han's lips quirked into a smirk. 

His hand slid around your waist and pulled you into his embrace. His arms felt like steel bands, but the warmth of his body against you was reassuring. "You know I've got your back," he murmured into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. You nodded, ”I know” 

In the car on the way to the Golden Hall, the silence was palpable, the air heavy with the weight of what was to come. Changbin's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road ahead. Hyunjin was fixing his hair in the passenger seat and You were sitting between Han and Jeongin. Felix would take his own car and be ready in case he was needed inside.

Han’s hand was resting lightly on the gun that was tucked in his pants. You could feel the tension in his body, deep in thought of what was to happen. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. 

The Golden Hall loomed in the distance. As you approached, the headlights danced across the gleaming marble facade, casting shadows  on the huge walls. The sound of music and laughter grew louder, people were chatting and smoking on the outdoor stairs. 

Changbin pulled the car to a stop at the curb, the engine purring quietly. You stepped out, a united front of deceit and danger. The cool evening air was a slap in the face, a stark reminder of the cold reality of the world you were about to enter. The scent of expensive cologne and perfume mingled with the faint hint of gunpowder, a potent cocktail of wealth and violence. 

You circled your arm around Han's, your hand coming to rest on his bicep. His warmth seeped into you, a reassuring presence in the sea of uncertainty. His eyes met yours, a silent promise of protection. For a brief moment, you felt like you could conquer the world—or at least the Golden Hall. 

As you approached the grand entrance, the bouncers eyed you with a mix of curiosity and hunger. Hyunjin took the lead, his charm oozing from every pore as he flashed them a winning smile. "We're with Kang's entourage," he announced, the lie slipping from his tongue as smoothly as silk. The bouncers nodded, their gazes lingering on your group before letting you pass. The doors swung open, revealing a world of glitz and glamour that was as fake as the smile you pasted on your face. 

Inside, the Golden Hall was a cacophony of sounds—the clink of champagne flutes, the murmur of hushed conversations, and the pulsating beat of music that thrummed through the floorboards. The air was thick with the scent of wealth and the unspoken promise of power plays. Your heart raced as you stepped into the fray, every step taking you deeper into the lion's den. 

The room was a kaleidoscope of colors, the chandeliers casting a warm glow on the faces of the unsuspecting prey mingling below.

Hyunjin and Jeongin split off, weaving through the throng of bodies like shadows. You felt a knot form in your stomach as they disappeared into the throng, leaving you and Han to navigate through the socialites and gangsters. 

You moved through the crowd. You felt like a pawn in a high-stakes chess game, each move scrutinized by the sharp eyes of the elite. You made our way to the bar. Han's hand was a firm presence at the small of your back, guiding you through the maze of bodies.

The bartender, a man with a nose that looked like it had been broken more times than he could count, gave you a nod as you approached. "Whiskey," Han ordered, his eyes never leaving the room. The man slid two glasses across the counter. You clinked your glasses together, the sound lost in the din of the partygoers. 

As you sipped the burning liquid, your eyes scanned the room, searching for any sign of the Blackjacks' boss. The crowd was a mix of the rich and the ruthless, their smiles as sharp as the knives hidden in their jackets.  

Han leaned closer, his voice a rumble in the chaos. "You okay?" he asked, his hand brushing against your lower back. 

"I'm fine," You said, thought you were everything else but fine. 

You watched as Hyunjin and Jeongin approached a group of men huddled together, their laughter growing louder as they drew near. The crowd parted for them, eager to catch a glimpse of the entertainment. You stomach twisted into knots as you recognized the man at the center—Kang, the boss of the Blackjacks. You didn’t even need to know what he looked like beforehand, his looks yelled power. His eyes were cold and calculating, his smile a mere curve of his lips that didn't reach his eyes. 

Hyunjin laid a hand on Kang's shoulder, his grin wide and infectious. Jeongin hovered at his side, a silent sentinel ready to jump into action at a moment's notice. You could see the tension in their shoulders, the way their eyes flicked around the room, searching for any sign of trouble. 

Kang's eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the two newcomers, his gaze lingering on Hyunjin's hand a beat too long before he shrugged it off. His smile remained in place, a veneer of charm over the predator beneath.  

You leaned into Han, "When do I go in?" you spoke quietly. 

”If Hyunjin doesn’t get the information needed, he will nod towards us. That’s when you go to make your move” he murmured, his eyes never leaving the group 

The music grew louder, a pulsing bass that vibrated through your chest. You watched as Hyunjin leaned closer to Kang, his laughter a little too loud, a little too forced. Jeongin hovered at the edge of the group, his eyes sharp and alert. They were playing their parts perfectly. 

"Han," You whispered urgently, "what do I do when we get to Kang?" 

His gaze never left the group, but you felt his hand tense on the small of your back. "Just play it cool," he murmured. "Be charming, be sweet, but don't give anything away." 

The knot in your stomach tightened. "And if he doesn't fall for it?" 

Han's hand slid around to your waist, his grip firm and comforting. "Then you improvise," he murmured, his eyes darkening. "Use your instincts. Pretend you are doing one of your shows, when you are the most confident. Imagine he is your audience". You nodded and sighed, feeling the warmth of the whiskey spread through you. 

As the conversation between Hyunjin and Kang grew more heated, Han's hand tightened on your waist, pulling you closer. His eyes never left the group as he murmured, "I think you need to make your move soon." 

Your heart thudded in your chest, the dress feeling tighter with each passing second. You tried to still the tremble in your voice. "Okay,” 

Suddenly, Han's hand was there, cupping your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away the bead of sweat that had formed on your skin. He looked deep into your eyes. "I'll have my eye on you at all times," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. The warmth of his touch seeped into you, a reminder that you weren’t alone in this. 

You watched as Hyunjin and Jeongin extricated themselves from Kang's group, their smiles still in place but their eyes now cold and calculating. They moved through the crowd with the grace of panthers, leaving in their wake a trail of confused and slightly annoyed-looking men. You saw Hyunjin nod towards Han who then turned back to you. "It's time," he murmured. 

You took a final deep breath, the dress feeling like it was made of lead as you stepped away from him. The crowd parted slightly, the ocean of wealth and danger opening a path for you to tread. Your heels clicked on the marble floor, the sound echoing in the vastness of the room.  

As you approached Kang the world around you seemed to slow down. The group of men parted for you, their eyes raking over you like a physical touch. You pasted on a smile as you stepped into the circle of power surrounding Kang. 

Kang's gaze slid to you, his eyes lingering on the v-cut of your dress, the way it hugged your curves. A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he took you in. 

You stepped closer,"I hope I'm not interrupting," you said, your voice a sweet melody that belied the turmoil inside you. 

Kang's eyes narrowed slightly, his smile never wavering. "Not at all," he replied, his voice a silky threat. "What brings a beautiful creature like yourself to a place like this?" 

"Oh, just looking for a good time," You said, trying to keep your voice steady. "I heard this was the place to be." 

Kang's gaze lingered on you, his eyes raking over your body in a way that made you want to shiver. But you held his gaze, smile never wavering. "And what makes you think you can find that here?" he asked, his tone teasing. 

"Well," you began, "I've heard a rumor that the company here is... exceptional." you let the word hang in the air, your voice a soft purr that seemed to resonate through the group of men surrounding you. 

Kang's hand slid around your waist, his touch a cold reminder of the role you were playing. You forced yourself not to flinch, instead leaning into his embrace. His eyes lit up with interest, his grip tightening slightly as he pulled you closer. "And what kind of exceptional company are you looking for?" 

"The kind that knows how to bargain," you murmured, your hand resting lightly on his chest. His heart was a steady thump beneath your fingertips, a stark contrast to the frantic beating of your own. 

Kang's smile grew wider, his eyes gleaming with interest. "I might know a thing or two," he said, his voice a dangerous purr. "But first, tell me your name, beautiful." 

"Call me Luna," you said, the pseudonym rolling off your tongue like a well-practiced lie. His thumb stroked the bare skin above your dress's waistline. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn't pull away. 

"Luna," he repeated, his voice a caress. "A name as enchanting as the woman who bears it." His eyes traveled down to your lips, and you could almost see the cogs turning in his mind, calculating his next move. 

"Kang," you responded, your voice a coy purr. "I've heard you're quite the poker player. Perhaps I could be your lucky charm tonight?" 

The room seemed to hold its breath as Kang's eyes lit up, the challenge clear in his gaze. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "Is that so?" he murmured, his hand sliding down to rest on the curve of your hip. "I'd be more than happy to see if your luck holds up at the table." 

Your heart raced as he led you through the crowd, his grip on your hand firm and possessive. The poker room was a stark contrast to the raucous party outside—the air was thick with the tension of unspoken threats and the scent of money. The green-felted tables gleamed under the harsh lights, the chips glinting like the eyes of predators ready to pounce. 

Kang pulled out a chair for him, the leather creaking under his weight as he took his seat. You positioned yourself behind him and laid your hands on his shoulders.  

The poker game was fast and furious, the air thick with tension and the scent of money changing hands. Kang's eyes never left the cards, his mind a whirlwind of strategies and bluffs. Each play was a dance, a silent conversation that spoke of power and control. His opponents were seasoned players, their faces a mask of indifference as they raised the stakes. 

With a flourish, Kang laid down his hand—a straight flush. The room erupted into a mix of gasps and murmurs of respect. The opponents' shoulders slumped in defeat, their pockets significantly lighter. Kang's smirk grew wider, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking beneath him. 

"Impressive," you murmured into his ear, your voice low and intimate. His gaze flicked to you, a predatory gleam in his eyes that sent a thrill of fear down you. He took a sip of his whiskey, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. "You're quite the player, Mr. Kang." you continued as you took a seat on the armrest of his chair. 

He placed his hand to rest on your thigh. "And you, Luna, are quite the lucky charm," he said, his voice a gruff rumble. His thumb stroked your skin in an intimite gesture. 

"Perhaps we could make a trade," you whispered, your voice a seductive purr. His eyes narrowed, the gleam of interest in them sharpening. "Your secrets for my... company." 

Kang's smile grew predatory, his hand squeezing your thigh slightly. "What makes you think I have any secrets worth sharing?" 

You leaned in closer, your breath tickling the shell of his ear. "Call it a hunch. And I'm sure I can make it worth your while." 

Kang considered your offer, his thumb continuing its slow, rhythmic stroking of your thigh. "What exactly are you proposing?" His voice was a low growl, the hint of a challenge in his tone. 

"A simple exchange," you purred "I want to know about your dealings with the Red Dragons." 

Kang's hand stilled, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. For a moment, you could see the wheels turning in his mind, weighing the cost of his secrets against the allure of the unknown. "The Red Dragons, you say?" He took a long sip of his whiskey, his gaze never leaving yours. "What makes you think I would have any dealings with them?" 

You gave him a knowing smile,"Let's just say I know how the wind blows in this city," you whispered, leaning closer so that your breath danced across his cheek. "And I can feel the heat of their breath on my neck." 

Kang's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on the whiskey glass. "And what makes you think I'd tell you anything?"  

With a boldness that surprised even you, you slid onto his lap, your dress hiking up just enough to reveal the edge of your garter. His eyes darkened, the pupils dilating slightly as he took in the sight. You placed your hand on his chest. 

"Let's just say I have a... vested interest in their business. And I'm willing to make it worth your while to share what you know." 

"What makes you so eager for this information, Luna?"  

"Let's just say I'm a woman who knows what she wants," you murmured. 

Kang's eyes never left yours, his hand tightening slightly on the whiskey glass. "And what makes you think I would be so easily swayed by a pretty face and a... willing disposition?" His voice was a silky threat, the challenge clear. 

"Because," you whispered, your teeth grazing his earlobe, "I'm not just any woman." your hand slid up his thigh, your fingertips grazing the bulge in his pants. His breath hitched, and for a moment, you thought you had him. 

But then, his hand shot out like a snake, grabbing your wrist and squeezing hard. "Careful," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "You might not like what you find if you play with fire." 

You yanked your hand back, the pain sharpening your focus. "I can handle the heat,".  

Kang's grip on your wrist didn't loosen, but his gaze softened slightly. "I don't doubt it," he murmured, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin of your inner wrist. "But the price for my secrets isn't one to be paid lightly." 

You swallowed hard, the weight of the mission pressing down on you. "Name your price”. 

"I want you in private," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through the very air. "Where we can... talk more freely." 

You nodded, your heart racing as you slipped off his lap. The room felt like it was closing in on you. You knew what he meant by "talk," and the thought made you nauseous. Had you gone too far with the act? But you couldn’t back now. 

Kang stood, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. He took your hand and led you through the labyrinth of the Golden Hall. The music grew fainter, the laughter more distant, until you reached a corridor that smelled faintly of cigar smoke and leather. He opened a door that led you to a bedroom.  

The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the flicker of candles scattered on the nightstands and dresser. The king-sized bed was the centerpiece, draped in luxurious fabrics that whispered of secrets and power plays. Kang walked over to the bar, pouring two glasses of amber liquid. He handed one to you, his gaze never leaving yours. 

"Drink," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. You took a sip, the whiskey burning a path down your throat, warming your insides. He took a sip of his own too. The silence stretched out, the tension in the air so thick it could be cut with a knife. 

"Now, about the Red Dragons. I want to know who they have deals with" you said, setting your glass down with a delicate click. 

Kang's smile grew, a cold gleam in his eye. "Ah, yes," he said, leaning against the bar. "The infamous Red Dragons. They don’t have deals. Only one, a bigger party they're dealing with."  

You took another sip of whiskey, your hand steady despite the racing of your heart. "What party is that?" you asked. 

Kang chuckled, "The kind that makes even the bravest of men tremble," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. You should pay your part of our trade" 

With a nod, you took a step closer to the bed, heels clicking against the marble floor. You sat on the edge, legs crossed, keeping your composure despite the racing thoughts in your head. Kang followed, his footsteps deliberate and predatory. He sat beside you, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight. His hand rested on your knee, his thumb making slow circles, a silent reminder of the power he held. 

"The group they deal with," you prompted, "What is it?" 

Kang's gaze remained locked on yours, his hand sliding up your thigh "A group so powerful, even I dare not speak their name aloud," he murmured, his thumb tracing the lace of youe garter. 

With a slow, deliberate movement, you leaned in, placing your hand on his chest to push him back onto the bed. He allowed himself to be moved. The bed's softness seemed to swallow him whole as he lay down, his expression a mix of arousal and anticipation. You slid closer to him, your hand moving to his belt buckle. 

"Tell me the name" you whisper, while slowly unbuckling his belt. Every inch of you felt nauseous of what you were doing, but you were so close to the answer. 

Kang's eyes glinted with amusement as he watched you, his chest rising and falling with every breath he took. "Not so fast," he murmured, placing a hand over yours. "First, I want to hear you beg for it." 

You clenched your jaw, the taste of the whiskey in your mouth turning sour. But you knew this was part of the game, so you leaned closer, "Please," you breathed, "I need to know. Tell me who they're working with." 

Kang's smile grew, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "The name you seek," he murmured, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek, "is the Snake." His thumb stroked your bottom lip. "But you must understand, Luna, that knowing the name of the Snake is only the beginning. It's like holding a cobra by the tail—dangerous and deadly." 

You nodded, trying to keep your revulsion hidden. "I understand," you whispered, your hand still on his belt. The need to escape was a living, breathing thing inside you, clawing at your thoughts. But you knew that any sign of fear would be a mistake. 

Slowly, you rose to your feet, hand trailing away from his body. His gaze followed your every movement, his breath growing heavier as you reached for the zipper of the dress. You pretented to start unzipping it. 

With a sudden burst of speed, you spun away from the bed. Your heart hammered in your chest as you sprinted towards the door. Kang's surprised grunt echoed through the room, and you knew he was already on his feet, moving to stop you. Your hand trembled as it reached for the doorknob. You twisted it, the door swinging open, and you slipped through, slamming it shut with a resounding thud. 

And there Han was, leaning against the wall, his eyes wide with shock as he had been listening to your conversation. He grabbed your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "We have to go," he hissed, pulling you into the shadows of the hallway. 

The door to the room slammed open behind you, Kang's enraged shout echoing down the corridor. "You little whore!" His footsteps were like thunder as he pursued us, his fury palpable. 

Han's grip on your hand was ironclad, pulling you through the maze of the Golden Hall with a sense of urgency that bordered on panic. The opulent surroundings were a blur as you darted through the crowd, dodging the grasping hands of drunken patrons and the suspicious glances of the Blackjacks' guards.  

You didn't speak, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you ran. Your feet stung with every step, but the pain was a distant echo compared to the fear coursing through your veins. You looked over your shoulder to see Kang running through the mass with his guards trailing behind you. Panic surged through you and your heart was racing so fast it threatened to burst through your chest.  

Han's grip tightened on your hand as he pushed through the crowd. His jaw was set, determination etched into every line of his handsome face.  

Hyunjin and Jeongin were waiting at the door. 

"We have to move," Han barked, his voice low and urgent. "Now." 

The four of you broke through the guards' line like a battering ram, their eyes widening in surprise as you barreled past. The cold air hit you in the face but you didn’t stop running. 

Changbin was waiting in his car and as he saw you four running for your life, Kang and his men behind you, he started the car.  

You dove into the car, the leather seats sticking to your bare skin. Han slammed the door shut behind you. Changbin didn't bother to ask questions, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror before he floored the gas pedal. The engine roared to life, the tires squealing as you shot away like a bullet from a gun. 

your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath. The adrenaline still pulsed through your veins. Han's arm was around your shoulders, his hand squeezing gently in reassurance. Jeongin was quiet beside you, his usual smirk gone, replaced by a look of grim determination. 

As the car sped away from the Golden Hall, the lights of the city flashed by in a blur. The sound of the engine was a comforting roar in the silence that had fallen over the four of you. You couldn't believe you had done it, that you had gotten the information and escaped Kang's clutches.  

Turning to face Han, you finally found your voice. "Holy shit, I did it," you exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and triumph coloring your voice. 

"You did," he said, his expression a blend of pride and concern. His eyes searched yours, his hand still on your shoulder, grounding you in the reality of your successful escape. 

Hyunjin turned to look at the backseat and you "So, who are the Red Dragon's working with?" 

You took a deep breath, still trying to compose yourself from the chaos of the last few minutes. "The Snake," you murmured, the name feeling like venom on your tongue. "He said they're working with someone called the Snake." 

Hyunjin's eyebrows shot up, his eyes glinting with interest in the rearview mirror. "The Snake?" he repeated. "That's big. They're a shadowy group, even for our world. No one really knows who they are, but their influence is everywhere." 

"Red Dragon's have made a dangerous deal" Changbin said, voice low. 

Once you got back to the house, everyone else made their way to Chan's office, to tell about the information you had just learned. You couldn’t follow them, you had to get to your own room. All the adrenaline and fear felt like seeping you away. 

You stumbled into your room, the door slamming shut behind you as you leaned against it, gasping for air. Your legs felt like jelly, threatening to give out beneath you. You had never felt so dirty, so violated. The taste of Kang's whiskey was still on your tongue, a bitter reminder of the man's touch. You unzipped your dress and let it fall on the ground. 

Stumbling over to the bed, you collapsed onto it, the mattress sighing under your weight. You could still feel his hands on your skin, his breath hot against your neck. You shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself in a desperate attempt to find some semblance of comfort. 

You felt a mix of proudness, fear and disgust. You were proud that you actually were useful and surprised even yourself with all the things you managed to say in the situation. You felt fear from thinking about how easily he could have killed you or made sure you could have never left that bedroom. Everything could have gone wrong. And finally you felt disgusted about the way he touched you, like he tainted you with his touch. 

The door opened, and Han stepped in, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. He closed the door with a soft click, the sound echoing through the quiet room. He didn't say a word, just approached the bed, his expression a mix of anger and concern. He sat down beside you, his hand tentatively reaching out to touch your shoulder. 

"Are you okay?" he whispered, his voice hoarse with unspoken rage. 

You nodded, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to push the memories away. "Yeah," you croaked, "just disgusted. I can still feel his touch on my skin." 

Han's grip tightened, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your shoulder. "It's over now," he said, his voice a soothing "You're safe." 

But the feeling of disgust lingered, a thick film coating your soul. You couldn't help but feel like you had lost a piece of yourself in that room with Kang. 

Han's touch was gentle, but firm. He leaned in, his warm breath fanning over your skin. "May I help?" he asked, his voice a tender rumble that seemed to resonate in your very bones. 

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the tumult of emotions churning within you. He began by kissing the nape of your neck, his lips moving in a slow, deliberate pattern. His hands followed the contours of your body, tracing the curves and valleys as if committing them to memory. It was as if he were trying to erase the memory of Kang's touch with his own, to replace the feel of Kang's cold hands with the heat of his own passion. 

Han's kisses grew more insistent as he moved down your body, his lips pressing against your collarbone, your breasts, your stomach. Each touch was tender, a silent apology for what had transpired.  

Finally, his eyes met yours again. You knew what he was trying to do—erase the horror of the past hour, replace the touch of the monster with the gentle caress of the man you loved. And so, with a tremulous smile, you reached up and cupped his cheek, drawing him back up to you. You brought his mouth to yours in a kiss that was more than just passionate.  

Your kiss grew more intense, his tongue exploring your mouth as if he could taste the fear and replace it with something sweeter. His hands slid over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. With each touch, the tension in your body began to unravel, your muscles relaxing under his ministrations. 

He pulled away, his eyes searching yours. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion. 

You nodded, your voice stronger now. "I need this," you whispered. "I need you." 

With a gentle nod, Han stood, taking off his jacket and shirt, revealing the taut muscles of his chest. His eyes never left yours as he undid his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. His movements were deliberate, a silent promise that he would not hurt you, that he would not take without asking. 

He climbed onto the bed, his body sliding over yours. He kissed you again, his hands framing you, his thumbs wiping away the tears that had escaped your eyes without you even noticing it. Your kiss deepened, the taste of whiskey fading as the familiar scent of him filled your nose. 

Slowly, carefully, Han began to explore your body again. His touch was feather-light, as if he were afraid to break you. He kissed away the tracks of Kang's fingers, His hands slid over your hips, your waist, your breasts, each touch a declaration of ownership, of love. 

He moved down your body, his lips leaving a path of sweet agony. When he reached your inner thighs, he paused, his breath hot against your skin. His eyes met yours, and you nodded, giving him the permission he sought. He kissed you there, his mouth tender. His kisses were like a balm, a gentle reminder that you belonged to him, and him alone. 

With a swift, smooth motion, Han swept off your panties, the fabric fluttering to the floor like a discarded piece of the past. The cool air hit your skin, sending a shiver up your spine. But it was his touch that followed, his mouth that set your body ablaze. He kissed and licked, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh, and you moaned 

The world outside the bedroom door fell away, forgotten in the face of Han's love. His hands held you in place, grounding you as his mouth moved. Each flick of his tongue sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, pushing the fear and revulsion further and further away until all that was left was the here and now, the feel of him. Your legs trembled, hips bucking as the pressure built, a dam ready to burst. 

”H-Han” you whispered, the sound of his name on your lips was a prayer, a desperate plea for release. He sucked harder, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, and you could feel the dam giving way, the wall crumbling under the relentless force of his love. The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your body arching off the bed as you moaned.  

As the tremors subsided, Han slid up your body. He kissed you again, a soft, gentle press of his lips to yours, his tongue dancing with yours. 

"I want to make you forget any feelings of him touching your skin," he murmured, his voice a promise in the quiet of the room. His hands skimmed over your body, not seeking to claim, but to heal. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if your were made of the most delicate glass. 

"Do you want this?" 

You nodded, "Yes," You whispered, the word a plea for salvation. 

With a fierce determination, Han claimed your mouth once more. His hands continued their exploration, moving over your skin. 

He slid one hand lower, his fingers ghosting over your stomach before finding the apex of your thighs. As he touched you, his fingers parted your folds, the contact sending a bolt of electricity through you. 

He began to circle your clit with his thumb, the sensation sending waves of pleasure that crashed against the lingering fear. You bit your lip to keep from crying out, the tension coiling tighter with each pass.

As his hand moved lower, his fingers sliding into you, your body arched. He filled you with a gentle pressure. His thumb continued to work its magic, the friction building until you could feel the beginnings of a new climax. His eyes never left yours. 

He knew exactly how to touch you, how to make you feel safe again. His movements grew more insistent, his hand working hard. You moaned into his mouth, your hips moving in a silent plea for more. 

He obliged, his fingers sliding deeper, the friction against your sensitive inner walls sending jolts of pleasure through you. Your nails dug into his back, your body responding to the delicious invasion.  

As the orgasm washed over you, your body spasmed around his fingers, your hips bucking against him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. The room fell away, leaving only the sound of your gasps and his steady breathing.  

Han's eyes searched yours, a silent question in their depths. "Do you need me to stop?" 

You shook your head, reaching up to pull him closer. "No," you murmured, my voice a whispered caress. "I want you, Han." 

With a nod, he kissed you softly. He slid his hand down your body, his fingers teasing the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh before gently pushing them apart.  

He positioned himself at your entrance. His eyes never left yours as he pushed into you, filling you completely, the sensation overwhelming and perfect. You bodies moved together.  

Han's strokes were slow and deliberate, each one designed to erase the memory of Kang's touch. He took his time, savoring every inch of you. His love was a fire that burned away the darkness, leaving only the warmth of his embrace. His hips rolled, a gentle rhythm that matched the beating of your heart. 

You needed to feel him deeper, you whispered, "Harder." His eyes flashed, a spark of something primal and raw lighting up the depths of his gaze. 

"Say it again," he rasped, his voice a harsh whisper. "Tell me what you need, y/n." 

You took a deep breath, your voice a shaky whisper. "Harder."  

Han's eyes lit up with something feral, something possessive. He leaned down, his mouth finding your ear. "Again," he urged, his voice a growl.  

"Harder," you gasped out, the words barely audible. 

With a low growl, Han complied, his hips driving into you with an intensity that stole your breath. Each thrust sent a wave of pleasure crashing through you, obliterating the lingering shadows of fear and disgust.  

Your nails dug into his back as he moved faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin a cacophony of passion in the quiet room. His hand slid down to your hips, his grip firm as he held you in place, his other hand cupping your cheek. 

His strokes grew deeper, his breaths coming in ragged pants.  

Han's hand slid down your body, his thumb brushing against your swollen clit with a feather-light touch. The sensation sent you spiraling over the edge, your body clenching around him as you screamed out his name.  

The climax shuddered through you, the intensity of it leaving you gasping for air. But Han didn't stop, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm that sent aftershocks of pleasure through you. His breath was hot against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he claimed you in the most primal way possible. 

Han's climax hit him like a bolt of lightning, his body tensing as he groaned your name. His eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open in a silent roar as he spilled himself inside you.

Finally, with a shudder, he rolled over to catch his breath, his chest heaving against the sweat-dampened sheets. For a moment, you laid there, your hearts pounding in sync, the only sound in the room the harsh intake of your breaths. 

Han lifted his arm, inviting you into his embrace. You didn't hesitate, curling into the warmth of his body, you head fitting perfectly into the crook of his neck. His arm tightened around you, his hand gently stroking your back in a soothing pattern that lulled you into a state of semi-consciousness.  

You laid there in silence for a while, but then Han broke the silence, his voice a gentle rumble in the stillness. "Are you okay?" he asked, his words a warm caress. 

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, the echoes of pleasure still resonating through your body. "I will be," you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest. "Thank you." 

Han's hand stilled on your back, his thumb tracing lazy circles. "You never have to thank me for loving you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "And you never have to go through something like that alone." 

He pulled away slightly, his eyes searching your face in the dim light. "What Kang did...it's not your fault. You're not tainted, y/n. You're strong, you're brave, and you're mine." The conviction in his voice was unshakeable. 

"I love you," he said almost whispering.  

You were caught off guard with his confession. A wave of warmth flashed in your chest as you looked him into his eyes. They were fillled with love, pure and unfiltered. 

"I love you, too," you whispered, the words a soft exhale. His eyes lit up at your admission, the corners of his lips tugging up in a gentle smile. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips. 

[sparklingcid3r]

Do you have headcanons for the Curtis parents

HELL yeah i do‼️ a lot of these are inspired by my own childhood bc i got nostalgic😭

- I’m gonna call Mrs. Curtis Josephine because I saw it once and ran with it, also it’s not fair we don’t know her name :(

- But in my head, Josephine accidentally got pregnant in her senior year to Darrel Sr., who’d already dropped out of high school, and they decided to keep the baby, and Josephine ended up dropping out

- Josephine’s parents were furious over the situation, both her dropping out and getting pregnant to someone like Darrel. They kicked her out of the house

- Darrel worked like hell to provide for her and his own family put up money for them to try and help, but it wasn’t much. Despite that, they were happy

- Shotgun wedding! Not a big thing or anything, Josephine wore her patchy homecoming dress and Darrel’s mom sewed up one of her husband’s suits for him, and it was a quiet affair

- Darry lowkey tricked them into thinking parenting would be easy because he wasn’t a crier even when he was born. He was well-behaved and didn’t cause them that much stress. Like he still cried but not nearly as much as a normal baby would. It was a little nerve wracking as they wondered if something was wrong with him or if this whole parenting thing was easy asl

- Uh yeah so then Soda was born

- Josephine had bad post partem depression after Soda where she couldn’t spend a lot of time with Soda and kind of used Darry as a crutch, spending more time with him as a result was Darrel spent more time with Soda. I imagine this being the reason Soda took on more of his dad’s mannerisms while Darry took his mom’s

- Slowly Josephine started coming around, but it was still hard. She spent as much time as she could handle with Soda, but Darrel always told her not to pressure herself and that she just needed to give it time, but he was anxious about the situation too

- Darry was actually the one who coined Pony’s name. When Josephine was pregnant with him, she let Darry and Soda touch her stomach and feel for him, and Darry said he kicked like a pony and Darrel and Josephine looked at each other like 👁️👄👁️☝️

- Originally it was just going to be Pony, but Darrel started saying “How’s our Ponykid doing in there?” and so when he was born and they found out he was a he, Josephine switched it because she didn’t want him to be called a kid his whole life

- Josephine was the cook of the family, but some days Darrel would make pancakes for the family while Josephine would make faces out of syrup and fruit for the boys

- Same with the grill, Darrel would ask for everyone’s order: burger, cheeseburger, hotdog, and Josephine would help them making faces and (not very good) pictures with the ketchup

- Darrel always woke the boys up saying “Time to make the donuts!” and while Darry and Soda knew what that meant, it took Pony a little longer to stop getting disappointed when there weren’t any donuts waiting for them in the kitchen

- Josephine was the one who tucked the boys in, but Darrel usually came in a few minutes later to say goodnight to them as well, and if he hadn’t shaved that morning he’d rub his face against theirs without them expecting it and hurt like a mf, Soda swore he’d always be clean-shaven

- Even though they didn’t call him Superman, Darrel was the one they all associated Superman with. Before closing their doors at night, he’d always do the motion of ripping his shirt across the middle as if to reveal the logo on his chest, so Pony calling Darry Superman meant more to Darry than he ever wants to admit

- Josephine was always singing or humming, just making music. When she was cooking, cleaning, doing the laundry, music was always going in the Curtis home. I’m pretty sure in the movie there’s a piano in the house, and it absolutely belonged to Josephine. She tried to teach all three of her kids how to play, but Darry was the only one who really took to it

- Josephine could have died from joy hearing Pony and Soda singing Andy Williams and Hal David off key while Darry stumbled through a song on the piano

totally feel like i could go on about this family, they mean so much to me🙏

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + short

a/n: angsty mess that's very multiverse based and somehow is 2 thousand freaking words....

----

"dada!"

one word. one word has easily become solana's favorite word in the entirety of the english language. a great feat considering her immense reverence and respect for the written word.

but, it's solely because unlike many of the other infinite words to exist, this one means so much to her. it means everything to her.

it's her world.

she is her world.

tearing her focus from the soapy water where she washes the dishes and pots from tonight's dinner, solana instead focuses on the sight that she would give anything to make her usual.

roman, this large specimen of a man, sitting on the floor, legs spread. he's dressed in some joggers, his shirt discarded, a small smile on his face as he speaks in a low voice to their 11-month-old daughter who wobbles in his direction.

it makes solana chuckle. melea rarely walks for her, prefers to crawl her cute self all over the house, if she could. but the minute her daddy comes around, she suddenly finds the ability and drive to use her legs.

solana studies the way roman reaches over to pick up melea, his own smile growing at the sound of his baby girl's sweet giggles as he lifts her up and plays with her.

eyes shutting, solana revels in this moment. does her best to stay in the here and now. tries not to think about tomorrow, about the absence of roman's body next to her in the bed, the crushing feeling of going into melea's crib, waking her up only for her to ask with those big, beautiful eyes, "dada?"

it kills her.

every. single. time.

sadness clouding her previous enjoyment, solana returns her focus to cleaning up the kitchen, instead focusing on making sure everything is put away and the dishes used are all sparkling clean.

it's an effective distraction, because by the time she's done, roman is sitting on the sofa, holding a sleeping melea.

small smile, she walks over to quietly sit down next to him, asking, "you want me to put her down?"

he looks over, shaking his head, "not yet."

she nods. she should have expected that. he enjoys spending as much time with her as he can when he can. for obvious reasons.

solana simply lays against the sofa, studying her daughter's sleeping face. as much as melea clearly loves her daddy, she looks so much like her mama. the most she has from roman is his dark hair color and those eyes. which solana has zero complaints about. of the many things she loves about her husband, his eyes rank pretty high up there.

"can you believe she's going to be one next month?" solana is both asking him and herself. it blows her mind sometimes just how quickly times has passed. continued to pass. her sweet little girl is going to be a year. it's been an entire year since solana became a mother.

roman chuckles, eyes focused on his daughter who sleeps so calmly on his chest. "not at all."

solana swallows, asking, "will you be here for her birthday?"

at that, his eyes turn to her, surprised almost, "of course." he then asks, almost defensively, "why?"

she shrugs, not wanting to feed too much into that defensiveness. "i never know when you're coming, ro."

"i wouldn't miss my daughter's first birthday, sol."

solana hates it. hates the bitter retort she has to do her best to suppress. to push away. it's cruel and uncalled for, but it's exactly how she feels.

clearing her throat, she carefully moves off the sofa, murmuring, "i'm gonna go take my shower."

she doesn't say anything else, already knowing he'll most likely have melea down and in bed by the time she gets out.

and that's exactly what happens, solana walking out the shower to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in hand. as soon as he lifts his head to look at her, his phone is discarded, and he's motioning her to come over.

wordlessly, she walks in between his thick, muscular legs until his hands are on her hips.

solana bites down on her lip, more than eager to skip to the part where he makes love to her throughout the night, until both of them are completely spent, tangled limbs and souls intertwined.

but roman has something else on his mind, bringing up not even an hour ago. "you wanted to say something. earlier."

solana stills for a second. she should have known better. known he would pick up on it.

she shakes her head, moving her hands up and down his strong shoulders. "it doesn't matter."

"everything matters when it comes to you, solana," he reminds, again asking, "tell me."

looking away, she debates lying to him, but she already knows it's a stupid plan. there is no lying to her husband. he sees through everything.

so, she swallows her anxiety at how she believes or knows this conversation will play out and shrugs, "i was just....i was just going to say maybe....maybe it would be easier if we....if we could come live with you." it's in watching his eyes shut, the almost scowl on his face and especially the way he stands up, walking away, hands on his hip, that solana knows exactly how this is going to play out.

not well.

as per usual.

"baby....we've talked about this." solana hugs herself, already dreading it. "why do you keep bringing it up? where is this coming from?"

"where do you think it came from, roman?" she asks, shaking her head. "our daughter is turning one, and i had to ask you if you're going to be there for her birthday, because i never know when you have time for us and when you don't---"

he turns around at that, gaze sharp and steel. "don't do that. don't fucking do that. you know what you mean to me. what she means to me."

feeling emboldened, she challenges, "just not enough for us to actually live together like a family?"

roman's eyes soften ever so slightly as he once again expresses, "it's too danger---"

"God, i'm so sick and tired of hear that." she cuts him off, eyes closing, mentally replaying the many times she's heard as such. "i understand that, roman. i do, but what you don't seem to understand is how hard this is for me." solana doesn't know where exactly it's coming from, well, not entirely, but the restrain she typically uses when it comes to this sensitive subject is all but gone. "i wake up alone almost every night. i go to sleep alone. i wake up our daughter alone. i bring her to my mom's alone. god, i---roman, i attended every ultrasound appointment alone. you....you weren't even there for her birth."

it's a low blow. deep down, she knows that. doesn't need to see the hurt flash in his eyes at something she knows he'll never truly get over. but, that wasn't just hard for him. it was hard for her. one of the happiest days of her life was also the saddest, because while her mom was with her on one side, the other side where he should have been, helping and supporting her as she gave him his first child, was empty.

but, of course, he won't comment on that, won't talk about one of his most painful regrets. he instead deflects, granted with a gentleness reserved for her and their child..

his volume lowers as well. "sol, you knew it would be this way before---"

"you're right, i did." because she did. because he made her very aware from the very beginning that he could never openly be with her. it was too dangerous. he had far too many enemies and would never risk anything happening to her. she understood it then. still understands it now, especially with them having a baby. it just sucks though. "and i'm not...i'm not mad at you, ro. i'm just frustrated with the situation. i'm tired of feeling like a single mother---"

at that, she sees the pain melt into something much more familiar for most people acquainted with roman reigns.

she sees anger.

but, she knows it's really hurt. he's understandably hurt by her honesty.

"you're acting like i don't fucking do anything." his tone continues to stay in the lanes of harshness, which doesn't help her tone down her frustration. "i'm trying, solana."

"but, it's not enough, roman!" she doesn't intend to raise her voice. it's a natural consequence of the emotions that have been bubbling to the surface for some time now. eyes watering, she explains, "you've given me this beautiful house, yes. i want for nothing financially, yes. you have the fucking secret service it feels like watching me and mel, yes, but.....but, i still feel so alone." sniffling, she admits, "i feel like i love you full time, but you only love us part time. when you can. and that's not....that's not fair. it's.....it's starting to mess with me, roman."

the tears are inevitable at this point, and before she knows it, roman is before her, gently cupping her face, wiping away her tears. "baby, please don't cry." it fascinates her how only seconds ago he was being borderline mean only for him to shift so easily into this gentle man who she loves with every part of her. "i fucking hate seeing you upset. you know this."

he would have hated to see her last week when she truly broke down over all of this.

"sometimes, i....i wonder if we moved too fast." met, married, and pregnant within a year, most would say it was absolutely too fast. most don't know, however, just how deeply she loves this man. "is this what you want?"

"i love you, solana. i love melea. i would give fucking anything for things to be different, but i can't. i can't change who i am, and what i do." he swallows. "but, i can't lose you either, so tell me how we make this work."

the real answer is she doesn't know. she doesn't know the sustainability of this dynamic. sporadic visits from her husband who only a handful of people know is her husband as he visits her and a daughter even fewer people know exist. she wants to love and be in love openly and wholly. not in the shadows and corners of secrecy.

but, maybe that's another problem for another day, because what solana wants the most is to just be with this man. be with the man she's shared so many first with. first time. first love. first child. there is no her without him, and navigating that might be difficult, but she'll do it. because she'll do anything be with him.

"i love you." she murmurs and moves against his chest, letting him hold and comfort her as he murmurs those precious words back to her. it settles her. more than it maybe should, but she doesn't question it. pulling back, solana reaches for his hand, moving it to her stomach. "the first one....just please be there for the first appointment."

roman seems to understand what she's telling him, but he still wants an additional layer of reassurance. "are you...."

she nods. a small, sad smile sets on her face. "yes, and i....i just want you there with me to hear it. to hear our baby's heartbeat this time."

roman scoffs, clearly a mixture of emotions: surprised, confused, happy. he then nods, his own face settling into the perfect combination of determination and dedication. "i'll be there." he kisses her forehead, so gently, so lovingly, vowing, "we're gonna be fine, sol. i promise."

as he takes her in his arms yet again, showering her with all of his love and vulnerability, rare displays only allotted to her and melea, solana's eyes shut.

if only she felt the same.

if only she trusted that they would be okay.

that this will work out.

but, she's not.

she's just not.

[watchingtheearthrise]

I want everyone who goes “hmmm but JJ set up nothing for Finn and put him in a coma at the end of the film so he never meant for Finn/John Boyega to be the lead” to understand:

First of all: No :)

Secondly: Hold onto this same energy for Rian Johnson regarding Rose Tico/Kelly Marie Tran

Because the Venn diagram that is people who claim JJ was the one who did Finn/John dirty and the people who claim Rian Johnson didn’t treat Rose Tico/Kelly dirty is a circle.

Rian only wrote Rose in because he thought “it’d be really boring” for Finn & Poe to go on an adventure together. He then erased a scene where Finn & Paige would’ve been together when Paige died, which could’ve given us a chance for Finn & Rose to actually bond over something but nope (Point 5 on the list).

Rian wrote Rose to ‘contrast’ with Finn (Point 8 in last link) but really just had her explain slavery and be part of a “war is bad” storyline for Finn? The same Finn who had been stolen as a baby and raised in a brainwashed boot camp to be a child soldier for an evil facist regime?

“Oh he gave her more screen time than in TROS.” He gave her ten minutes. Ten minutes out of a 2 and a half hour slog of a movie. Yes the difference of time is a bit drastic (ten minutes to almost 2) but it’s not that much when you put it against the actual length of the entire movie.

Overall, Rian also did Rose/Kelly dirty. Just like how he did with Finn/John. And I don’t trust people who only mentions her when talking negatively about anyone else (aka not Rian) involved in the making of Star Wars.

[welcometoteyvat]

 xingqiu, gold accents, ginkgo leaves, the light golden color tea gets in sunlight

hu tao, also gold accents, mahogany wood, smoky things, spider lilies unfurling in the dark. but it would be cool to edit her art so it’s more high contrast (darker outfit and hair) with stark black plum branches against winter snow 

chongyun, white, clouds, wisps of chill wind. fluffy things and a big fur coat

majority red palette ningguang would also be cool

and of course, zhongli with gold orange. old man can’t beat the geo lord cor lapis soulmates (ambiguous relationship) with azhdaha allegations