#so like this might not be the best but i just needed to brainrot

[peachywontyell]

i have a crush on jenny and jaime and im brainrotting really really bad. this is all purely self-indulgent. the chances of me doing this again with 18+ thoughts are high.

poly jaime & jenny����🏾

-being friends (the kind that definitely have something going on but neither dare to name it) with jaime through uni. after graduation you both promise to keep in touch; it falls through immediately.

-thinking it's something you did, but really his life just got turned upside-down in less than 48hrs. hes a little occupied.

-you hear the news about kord industries, but it's not like they say what- or who- happened. all you know is the company has a new president and she's gorgeous.

-bumping into jaime en la tiendita de la esquina after impulsively moving to palmera city a year or so later. he somehow looks better. buffer, more confident- and so apologetic after he recognizes you.

-he invites you out for drinks later that night, begging with those pretty brown eyes of his. so you say yes, cause you both know you can't say no when he's looking at you like that.

-it went well. well enough that you're heading back to his apartment. and you know nothing is going to happen, but you're still nervous.

-yes, you both crash on his couch after even more (very drunk) soft chatter. no, you didn't expect to wake up to the smell of coffee and gentle clatter of plates.

-here you are though, half awake, using jaime as a pillow, really confused cause he didn't mention anything about having a roommate.

-sitting up to greet whoever it was and the words die on your tongue when you see who it is, cause what the hell is jenny kord doing in his kitchen and why is she offering you coffee and waffles with a smile so sweet you're not sure you can stomach any more sugar.

-but you do. her waffles are delicious and you're sure she's made of pure magic cause she got your coffee perfect first try. you almost spit it out when jaime gives her a sleepy good morning kiss though.

-you were already blushing, a bit flustered sure, but you were playing it off like you were just nervous to meet such a prominent figure. but this you couldn't play off.

-after many apologies and saying that nothing happened between you two, jenny looks as calm as ever as she tells you that it's okay, even if something had happened, it would have been okay. there is a flicker of something in her eyes and you can not put a name to it, but it's not negative.

-you run out of there, spewing something about remembering that someone was coming over for repairs. you're sure you only began to breathe again as soon as you stepped through your door.

-they both find it hilarious sure, but jaime tells her she can't just say those things to you, cause you fluster easily. she makes it a little game, which one of them can fluster you the most.

-you feel like you are going crazy. a month or two after the first introduction with jenny and lots of hangouts...now you're sure that they're both...hitting on you? but that's crazy, right?

-wrong. you're being guided to a more secluded part of the dancefloor at a strangers party by jenny and you know you're wrong.

-yes, you're drunk, so is she and her hands are on your hips pulling you closer and closer while some reggaeton plays in the background and now you find yourself throwing ass on your....friends? girlfriend while her fingertips sink into your flesh deliciously. you could get used to this.

-too focused on trying not to die from the feeling, you completely miss jaime and jenny sharing a smirk and a nod.

-you're sure they planned it cause it was too perfect of a coincidence. jenny left you, obviously hot and definitely bothered, saying she was gonna go get you guys drinks and all you could do was nod. as soon as she leaves, you blink, and there's jaime.

-you start to apologize for what just happened and shut up as quickly as you started because he is suddenly so close and asking if he could also have a dance and you're sure you're dreaming.

-the next morning, the only thing you know is that you're in a bed, it smells familiar, there is someone playing with your hair and a different arm across your waist.

-you don't know who changed you out of your clothes and both of the options have your head spinning so you choose not to think about it. a very needed conversation is had like that, cuddled in bed. you almost turn into mush when they ask you to join their relationship.

-now you've got two partners. and you gonna make up for lost time.

[yumedoca]

Ok,but Mermaid Saga is absolutely insane..

[whumpy-wyrms]

hey guys

[fairene]

gravity / ln

lando norris x fem!reader

reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n.

where your life with him is just beginning.

yes! yes! i have insane brainrot for lando norris! yes! this is meant as a single 'oneshot' of sorts, but i am open to taking requests of this so called 'universe.' reader here is a stem major, particularly physics (shoutout to the stem students!) which helps perfect the progression. also was inspired by interstellar.

wc: 15.2k woops!

warnings: smut! -- MINORS DNI!!, porn with a lot of plot! angst, drinking, language, friends to lovers, corruption kink (minor), choking, soft!top lando.

it was all consuming; he was, at least, with his curly hair, upturned eyes, smile that brightened the entire room. utterly irresistible, any woman could agree. they’d jump his bones the second he gave them a lingering glance, a playful wink.   but that’s all it ever was with those girls— glances, observations. but you, on the contrary, were a fixation. an obsession, one might call it— actually, someone has before. but you ignored it and let it fly over your whimsical head. how could a man like lando norris ever glance in your direction like he did those models, influencers? 

you were always just his friend. his best one, yours too you’d admit only in the solace of your lonesome in the hours of the evening. you met him when you were studying abroad in london at the ripe age of nineteen. you were there on a research term for a professor at your university, though it was much far north of london's borders. still, the girlfriends you managed to make would insist on your attendance to the night club scene on the town. 

who were you to deny any pleasantries? a hardworking student. a student with a vision, a dream to be more than what society compressed women to be. you’d rather be out to the stake like a medieval witch than become a loftily homemaker. while it was some of your friends desires, yours stretched far beyond the horizon of which any life was palpable. 

a nerd in short terms. 

you studied physics. with as much fun as your girlfriends had in the club, you found it in the quiet evenings if your research. you’ve devoted a great deal of time for your studies, but hey— every girl lets go here and there. 

the one time you did, you met him. in the late evening hours of the bustling club, drink in your hand, short dress sticking to your sweaty skin, he scared your close friend, laurel.

“boo,” he had said with a low tone, grabbing the girl with a blonde bob by the shoulders. she shrieked despite the loud atmosphere and spun around, slapping him on the chest. 

“lando!” she exclaimed, which had your attention drawn upward from the half bitten olive in your martini. he was taller than her, than you, muscularity built with a low taper cut of chestnut hair. he was freckled, and the first thing you noticed about him was the way that his eyes smiled. 

they curved up at the edges and you could feel the warmth of the sun drip in from the rooftop. even though it was past midnight at this point. 

“i didn’t know you were coming,” laurel breathed at an awkward pace then turned to face you. she outreached her hand for you to take with your free one. you did, feeling warm from the alcohol that you had downed from the night. 

“lando, this is my bestie from school,” she introduced you by name, to which you gave a small, dramatic courtesy towards the brit. his eyes caught on your act, gleaming with something you could even see in the yellow hued lights of the club. “this is lando norris, rookie of…what team again?”

you glanced from laurel to lando, brows raised. he hesitated for a moment, gracing you with a lopsided smile that, in time, you’d come to adore. 

“mclaren. formula one racing.” he answered, taking a hand to brace the back of his neck. he felt the need to clarify for you, which you took in earnest. he earned a light ahh in your reaction. 

you were impressed, to say the least. you hadn’t ever met a formula one driver in the flesh, nor you could say you were a devoting fan. of course you knew what it was, watched it on sundays when your uni friends would turn it on, but that was it. as smart as you were, it seemed that someone knew more about something than you did. you reeled. 

“and you like it?” you said after a beat, swirling the toothpick inside the olive around your finger. lando seemed to contemplate your words, taken back by such a question. without a doubt he liked racing, otherwise he wouldn’t do it. but that’s not what she was asking, was she? it weighed on him more as his mind unraveled the layers to such a question, but he ended on a simple answer:

“i don’t know if i could love anything more.” a jest, playful and lightheaded when it came from him. 

but how the whims would be tested over the years. 

────────────

a year later

“a whole season, lando?” you asked him, hands drawn out before you to iterate the sincerity of what he was asking. 

a season of going to races with him.

you were graduating within the next two semesters. twenty two now, whereas he was twenty three. but you had qualified to graduate early, as your intent was to do as such, but the tempting leave of absence form that sat in your lap tempted you even further. 

you sat in his monaco flat, a frequent place you visited or stayed until you recently gained residency in monte carlo. it was efficient enough for what you needed to do for work— france around the corner, italy to the west. the best physicians rallied in europe, and staying in the isolated united kingdom was not the best option for you. you caved at his months of pleading to move to monaco. 

your legs crossed as you glanced from his pacing, anxious position. your fingers tapped incessantly at the piece of paper before you, pre-addressed envelope sitting on the coffee table. 

“why not?” he questioned, putting his hands up in defense, stopping before you. he looked down at you, his heart thundering in his chest. say yes he wanted to plead. his knees felt weak. wobbly as your eyes looked back at him, determined. he loved that look. it drove him wild, enchanted by how the cogs of your brain turned. 

you sighed, looking off to the side out the floor to ceiling window. “how would i even pay for all—“

“you wouldn’t drop a pound.” 

you were taken back. you could never expect him to pay for that. you knew he was well off, given his hefty contract, but you are friends. friends don’t use each other for money. 

“lando—“ you began to shake your head. 

“no, no, don’t do that.” he stopped you, earning a glare from you. he shivered, relishing in how vindictive you could be. he hasn’t seen it many times untamed, but the fantasy had his blood roaring. “if money wasn’t a problem, would you come?”

“well—“ you attempted to come up with a defense, but nothing formed. you were at a loss of words. “what would i even wear?”

it was february when you touched down in jeddah. lando has instructed you to fly on the jet with him, side by side for the entire eight hour journey. 

you were taken back by the sudden personal touches and longing looks from him. something has changed. over the past year he’s had a few girlfriends, none of them serious so he’s told you, and you believed him. your blind affliction to nod your head and whisper okay was the only way you found that you could truly protect yourself. ignorance is bliss, or whatever the poets say. 

with your legs crossed the entire flight and eyes peering from the window, you never once felt lando’s eyes drilling into your face. though he was entirely enamored by your bravery, your understanding how important this was to him. 

you may be the only one to truly understand his passion. as he began to understand yours. 

on your lap was a research journal translated from german. your professor had sent it over to you for your leave of absence, along with ideas for your masters thesis. she was a kind woman and you appreciated all the work she has done to support you. especially translate it from german. 

you tended when you felt lando spread his legs, knee bumping into your calf. but you didn’t shy away. 

“what’re you reading?” 

“do you really want to know?”

he didn’t hesitate. “why wouldn’t i?”

your chest tightened at his soft tone. you’d never get used to that, would you? when you were in such close proximity with him, he would become so gentle, caring. not that he wasn’t in public spaces but… what was the word you were looking for?

intimate

“after your season i fly to germany to finalize my thesis. i’m still struggling on a topic, but…” you flip back a few pages in the book which was messily annotated and sticky-noted. you stopped on the event horizon section. “this one caught my eye. always fascinated me.”

lando scanned the page. it wasn’t the words he was reading, but the marks you left behind. messily written notes in the margins, smeared ink, bright orange notes with rather… rushed drawings of a black hole, surrounded by streams of… “what is it?”

your eyes glimmered. lando wanted to take a picture of you then, turning from your corner of the window and towards him. your palms smacked the page as you excitedly explained the phenomenon in far too great detail for lando to really pay attention, but he was so engrossed in your intellect and pure passion that slipped past your lips. your sweet, honeyed lips—

“lando?”

“hmm?”

“what will it be like?”

“what?”

“all of it.” your fingers tended around the journal creasing the pages unbeknownst to you. 

lando reached over, not thinking rationally, and grabbed your hands. they were colder than his. he was always warm. so warm. a light gasp left your lips when you looked up at him. 

“i’ll give you some pointers. ready?”

you nodded. 

────────────

he kept a hand on you at all times. unhindered by any sudden movement, feigning to latch at the small divot of your back. you’d grow used to its presence as you scaled the tarmac, hopped into the passenger seat of the mclaren— opened by him— and glanced down at how his hand made claim to the skin of  your thigh the entire drive. 

he’s stressed. you’d tell yourself, not thinking anything more of it. because what else could it be?

────────────

the entire time you kept modesty in mind. you had pestered lando about your choice of attire, thinking specifically about the nature of your outfits. 

“i don’t want to be disrespectful.” you said sternly, looking between the stylist lando paid to dress you, and him. it was your debut at lando’s side and you were determined to make the right choice. you were never usually like this— cold and bullheaded, but he was growing to…enjoy it more than he should. 

you stood there tapping your foot with your arms crossed. you shrugged towards the outfits she provided you. you shook your head at a few and decided to ask. 

“what about orange?”

orange.

lando thought about falling to his knees for you right then and there. to see you sporting his team colors for him was a dream that he would never want to wake from. 

the stylist nodded, raking through the options. there was one that was made of silk, a dress that covered you to the ankles, to the forearms. an abaya it was called. if you were going to be representing lando, which he mentioned on the plane, then you were going to do it right. 

and you’ll be damned before you’re ever wrong. 

────────────

you certainly underestimated the crowds. 

with the season opening, you and lando had been swarmed upon your arrival. he warned you of this, but to which the gravity of it you greatly underestimated. 

your fists bawled at the material of the dress, clenching with unspoken anxiety. you were never much of a public person, but you’d be willing to find out if that were true or not today. 

“hey,” lando nudged your shoulder. you glanced at him with a light smile. “you got this.”

that comfort was enough alone to let you be pulled from the car. lando opened the door for you. immediately swarmed by flashing cameras and the devilish heat of the middle eastern sun. 

questions were thrown at him about you, who you were, and you’d let him do all the talking. 

you straightened your posture, gripped the handbag tightly, and kept a soft smile to your features. 

lando would stop on occasion to sign some memorabilia, which was a perfect time for you to observe. he was kind with the people who were such loyal fans to him. dressed in the mclaren jerseys, hats, he’d sign anything that was thrown his way. even some arms were thrown in his direction. 

it was endearing for you. watching him thrive in his element. your heart warmed at the sight. a new found affection blossoming in the pit of your stomach. 

a thump was heard on the ground before you. you turned, glancing back at lando who kept moving forward. it was a mclaren hat dropped by a teenage girl wrapped in a similar garment to yourself. you traipsed over, crouching down to pick it up, and hand it back to her. 

“here,” you offered in a sweet tone. your smile was brighter. the girl was clearly elated, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

“are you and lando dating?” came a question from the girl beside her. she was earned a slap to the shoulder, being called rude.

you laughed lightly, shaking your head. “no, no, friends from home is all.”

you saw a phone held up, recording the interaction. but it didn’t scare you. why would it?

“do you want to wrap your hijab? it’ll fly loose in the wind…” the girl asked nervously, placing the mclaren hat on her covered head. you were taken back for a moment, glancing down at the rather lazy job of the stylist, and took intent note that it was rather windy today. it would be hard for you to maintain it by yourself. 

“you would do that for me?” you took a step closer to the barricade, which had lando snapping his head over his shoulder to wonder where you went. 

he ogled, watching as a young girl began tying the ends of the scarf in an intricate, skilled manner around your collarbones, your neck. his eyes were caught on the smile you graced, the laugh that left your lips. it was such a delicious sound, intoxicating, one that he wished to drown in. if that were his fate, he’d gladly accept it. 

his staring was noticed, fans beginning to call his name louder. he swallowed, hands flexing at his side before he signed a few more hats and posters. 

────────────

what you didn’t expect was the way that lando looked in his fire guard suit. the black emblems that contrasted his tan skin, bolstered the tone of his muscles. there was barely anything left up for the imagination as you brought the tip of your finger to your mouth, crossing your legs on the orange couch. you couldn’t seem to sit still. 

“you alright?” he asked out of concern, but you didn’t miss the slight curve of his mouth. he knew what you were thinking.  you were always so responsive to him, so good, even when there were no words transpired. 

“peachy!” you confirmed, sitting back against the couch, your leg bouncing as you tried not to let your eyes meddle on the muscles of his neck, the veins in his hands, the bracelets that dangled from his wrists. 

he gave you a look of doubt before his teammate walked in with a girl at his side. oscar, you remembered. you had met before briefly at a press conference you attended in monaco. the girl beside him was his girlfriend— she was entirely too sweet and studied a similar focus as you did. 

the two mclaren drivers patted each other on the back, while the woman approached you. she sat beside you with a tick of picking at her fingernails.

your hand found its way on top of hers. “first time, too?” 

she nodded and introduced herself formally. you did the same. you laced your fingers with hers, stopping the habit from ruining her lovely nailbeds. 

lando watched the interaction from over oscar’s shoulder, a cheeky smile etching onto his face. oscar caught wind of his inattention, and glanced over his own shoulder briefly. 

he turned back to lando with a toothy grin. “i’ve been trying to get her to stop that habit.”

because within the matter of minutes you were both talking, not once did his girlfriend raise her fingers to her mouth. 

────────────

you pulled and fixed at the collar of his race suit. lando sucked in a low, tight breath. you missed the sound, focused on making sure he looks presentable for the national anthem. it would be any minute he’d climb into the car to do a practice lap. 

when you were satisfied with the result, you dusted off the top of his head and was going to let your hand fall to your side. but there was a stain of soot on his chin. 

without thinking twice, you grabbed his chin between your fingers. his eyes went wide at the action. his fists clenched at his side, body rigid with the feeling of your unexpected touch. 

you licked your thumb before wiping it away, his stubble rough against your fingers. his head crooned visibly into the shape of your hand. the warmth from his cheek getting slightly hotter. heat rushed to your own face, flushing you in your orange dress. 

whatever moment was transpiring between the two of you, you didn’t want it to end. neither did he. his breathing softened, but his heart was pounding. your thumb swirled over his cheek once before you gripped him tighter. 

“you got this, lan.”

there was the first time you graced him with that nickname. the rest was history for him, knowing that he was a dead man walking at your side. if you weren’t going to be his, he would ruin you. such sickening thoughts had him mulling over what you meant to him. you made time out of your busy schedule for him, and so did he. you were there to answer his calls. he was there to be at your beckon and call. he would wreck his entire career if it meant your undivided attention. 

he would pivot, skid, take more reckless actions on the track if it meant having your hands on him. your eyes. your love. he wanted it all with you, he learned, from that first weekend in jeddah. with your communally wrapped headscarf, caring nature, your determination… he wanted it to be his. he wanted you to flourish with him. he wanted to be the reason you blossom. 

with your unwavering strength at his side, he could conquer the world. fuck the championship, he wanted it all to be with you. maddening thoughts would consume him day and night after that first weekend, knowing there was only more to come throughout the season. he could only imagine how these months would fare, but he didn’t bide into fantasies. he would expect the unexpected and let you consume him entirely. 

────────────

miami was everything you thought it to be. bustling with life, parties, music. it was a stark contrast to what your life at university looked like— though you didn’t mind the occasional outing, of course, especially when lando was at your side. 

he was a beam of light crafted by the gods of the sun, brightening every room he stepped in. he was utterly magnetic, drawing others around him, letting them have a joyous laugh. it made you giddy, proud, that he could hold himself so well in the mediocrity of the crowds. while you etched yourself at his side, clamoring for his shadow, he held you tightly at every opportunity. 

his hand at your back, clutching for dear life. warm and soothing, you’d lean into him, clutching the hem of his black mclaren shirt. 

it had been a friday night. his free practices had been stellar as you watched eagerly from the mclaren paddock. you’d earned a status of earning a headset, your consistent attendance rivaling tidal waves in the media. you always told yourself not to look, not to peek, but you couldn’t help it. 

accounts were created in your honor. in your fan name. the mclaren fans loved you, and you loved them. the video of your first appearance at the paddock had gone viral within the community. your sensibility for adhering to culture norms gained you rapport. though you didn’t know why— why wouldn’t you dress appropriately? it grudged you how low the media could stoop, but you were honored nonetheless to gain such positive attention. 

of course there were the negatives. some were born to hate and you could live with that. many thought you were using lando for his money, just another stupid girl who didn’t deserve to be at these races. you kept yourself modest from the media with a private account, similar to charles girlfriend, and found that it was better to remain a mystery to those who weren’t a part of your life. you owed them nothing. 

though you never breathed these negatives to lando. he would be furious and absolutely say something in public. the last thing you wanted was for him to fight your own battles, yet you thought this nothing to be more of a playground spat. you could handle it; lando doesn’t call you sting for no reason. 

on the bright side, you had a steady, growing relationship with oscar’s girlfriend, and even considered each other to be best friends. 

though lando would disagree ardently, reminding you that he was always first, no matter the circumstance. he’d whine like a child and pout. how could you resist that face? even when you would playfully hold up four fingers and raise your brows, his number four, contrary to one, he’d scoff and laugh, your ability to see through him was astonishing. 

at the club tonight there were bottles and bottles of champagne being opened and passed around in the driver's honor. in your time there you had grown close to all drivers, except a few give or take. but while you carved relationships with the boys, it was the women you sought refuge in. 

charles' girlfriend, a tanned brunette sweetheart, would bake for you. in return you would host wine nights with the other women. you’d become accompanied with her new furry companion, little leo leclerc, and you fell in love with him instantly. his little licks of appreciation, his tiny wagging tail. gosh, you loved the pup. 

carlos’ partner, rebecca, had intimidated you at the beginning. she was tall, fierce, blue eyes unwavering with confidence as she spoke of deep experience throughout her years in the paddock. it took her longer to adjust to your presence, feeling doubtful of your friendship with the british driver, but changed her mind when she saw you dehumidifying lando’s race suit that hung in the tents in japan’s humid weather. 

no one stood around you whilst you did that. no one asked you to. you did it because it was ruthlessly hot and you didn’t want lando to contract a heatstroke. 

lily held a place in your heart that none of these girls could truly replace. she was your rock from the first race. you both learned together, wrought each other of the nail biting habits, and laughed amongst the radio calls between the pair of drivers. 

the rap music thundered the floor you stood on. heels tall and encompassing, you’d admit plainly you got used to the treatment lando awarded you. nothing but the best, he told you one evening under the moonlight. the words were imprinted in your mind. 

alexandra, charles’ sweetheart, called your name. 

lando’s grip tensed at your back. you could feel it. you glanced at him, then to alexandra. 

“come dance~!” she swayed, floreale spritz in her hand. she egged you forward with her hand, and you loosened yourself from lando’s side. 

you had no obligation to stay by him. it’s not like you were dating.

though many would disagree with that. 

you mumbled something incomprehensible to lando. he bent his head down towards your mouth, angling his ear to hear your voice. 

“will i see you on the dance floor tonight, mr. norris?” you teased, body warm from the cocktail you downed. his head turned, a signature smirk daunting his face. 

“want me to?” he said, bringing his lips dangerously close to your ear. you shivered, his breath hot and wet as it graced the curves of your cheeks. 

“only if his highness can make time,” you looked up at him through your weary, drunken eyes. something shifted, then, as you stared up at his green eyes. it was dark in the club, but not as dark as his stare. it intimidated you, but not nearly as much as it intrigued you. 

“always make time for you baby,” he said, tone playful and airy but it was more than that for you. baby. he was just drunk, wasn’t he? he didn’t know what he was talking about. didn’t know he was talking to you. don’t let it get to your head. “just tell me when. think charles is dying to dance.”

you looked over your shoulder to see charles being teased by sweet alexandra as she shook her head, pointing at you. this was a girls dance, that told you. 

before you turned, your hand cupped lando’s neck. he grumbled; you felt it through your palm. it was a nonverbal okay. you spun, threading yourself out of lando’s grasp. he let his hand linger for as long as he could before you slipped away, the imprint of his hand leaving you bare and cold. 

it was quickly replaced by the rambunctious action on the dance floor. lit up with multicolored tiles, alexandra grabbed your hand and raised them above your heads, swaying to the heat of the music. 

she was a natural beauty. no wonder charles fell in love with her. 

you mimicked her dance moves to the best of your ability, hands sliding down your waist, through your scalp and over your head. 

alexandra laughed and sashayed, giddy with fun and life. you did the same, unable to withstand her pulsing vibrato. you twirled her around you, she did the same. heads turned at your giggles, a few grunts of laughs had you looking over your shoulder. 

the men of the club began to swarm. but in the moment, you didn’t care. let them gawk if they so wish. you felt untouchable. 

your body slid parallel to alexandra, hips gyrating with an orbit of its own cosmic makeup. she grabbed onto your waist pulling you close when you rocked from side to side. your hands slid up your neck, down your chest— exposed from the evening gown you chose for the evening festivities. 

the swarm intensified. one man attempted to twirl in front of you and alexandra, reaching to touch your forearm, but that’s where the line was drawn. 

a body pushed itself between you and the man, alexandra standing up straight behind you. you recognized him instantly— signature smell bringing you an insatiable comfort that soothed your soul. 

lando stood before you, face close to yours. he didn’t look pissed off…just…cocky?

before alexandra peeled away, you tilted your head back to her shoulder. she whispered, “needy, needy, needy…”

charles whisked her away for a dance. you didn’t get to respond. there wasn’t much for you to say though, watching how happy alexandra became when charles wrapped his arms around her. you felt sour. what was this feeling? 

“you didn’t ask me,” he said into your ear, bringing your attention back to him. little to your knowledge he watched as you glanced between the happy ferrari couple, your face scrunching and hand coming to cover your lips. 

you gave him a quizzical look. 

“to dance!” he laughed, big and goofy. but there was an edge to his tone. was he peeved? did he think that you forgot about him?

“wanted you to come get me.” you slurred, lifting your arms to throw them over his muscled shoulders. when you were met with a hard surface. your eyes bulged at just how big he’s gotten this year alone. it made you want to touch him more, explore his body behind the polo mclaren shirt. 

he raised his brows at you. “yeah?”

you pursed your lips together, letting your eyes flutter. “wanted you to hunt me down, little lando.”

his hands fell to your hips, fingertips functioning your skin. his demeanor shifted. your words igniting such a vicious flame inside his heart that burned for you and you alone. you were practically fucking edging him with your words. he wished it was the other way around. how insatiable your screams could be, the little noises you’d make. 

you warmed even more when his head dove into your neck, lips parting so you could feel his tongue. “‘ve already got you.”

“do you?” you challenge. lando loves a good challenge. 

he tucked you against his body, saying nothing more. 

“dance with me.” it wasn’t a question. but a statement. 

rolling your eyes, annoyed that he didn’t answer you, you pivoted on your heel. your back against his abdomen. you’d surely regret this on the morrow, but that was a problem for then. now, you only felt sturdy as you leaned your weight into lando. he supported you with ease. 

dancing with him was always the easy part. he knew how to move his body, sway his hips, and lure any girl into the trap of his toned and tanned arms. but it was never you up until now. you’d always dance with the other drivers, girls, friends, but never him. it was something far too intimate for you, but you weren’t sure how lando thought about it. 

but your friends noticed. 

rebecca snuck up behind alexandra, carlos at her arm. 

“look at him,” she gestured to lando who was entirely smitten with your let-loose expression. his hands were tight around your hips, legs spread to cage you against him. a fortress came with the name lando norris, and you were his queen. 

“entirely in love.” rebecca concluded, and alexandra agreed with a nod. 

“you should talk to her.” charles suggested, clearly feeling the pain his friend was going through, yearning at a distance. 

“and say what, char?” alexandra asked her partner. “do you love him like he loves you?”

“is that a bad idea?” charles retorted and was met with silence between the two girls. 

“we’ll figure something out.”

against your bodice, you felt the hard imprint of his dick blistering against his jeans. but it didn’t frighten you, not like his touches used to. your tour of the grand prix’s continued your closeness amongst one another, so…

your hips continued to sway, egged on by how lando ran his arms up your waist. it felt good–his hands, the tension woven into them. he felt good. 

you turned around to face him, letting your hands wrap around his neck. he looked euphoric beneath the dim lighting, rbg hues collectively making him look like he was glowing. he was, in truth, because of you. always because of you. 

the two of you were making eye contact now. not just any, but you thought it was the most intense of your life. his eyes rimmed with red, exhaustion you thought, and you suddenly felt guilty for keeping him out for so long. it’s not like you weren’t tired yourself. 

you raised your head to his ears. “we should go.”

he narrowed his eyes, looking disappointed that the festivities were ending so soon. “you want to?”

your head nodded. one hand came down to brush against his hand, taking it between yours. “tired.” 

the alcohol had taken its course through you. head pounding with a soft thump, you clasped your hand with lando’s. he returned the same force, swiping his thumb over your knuckles. he didn’t hesitate when you said you were tired. that was that for him. he had no other reason to stay.

“just wanna say bye to them,” you said, making your way over to rebecca and alexandra. they turned to you when you had lando in tow, entirely at your whims. 

“we’re meeting tomorrow?” you confirmed. both girls nodded, a shared glance between them making you feel uneasy. alexandra told you to come to ferrari’s paddock. you’d nod your head before they both raised their brows at each other again, sheepish smiles flashing in your direction. 

“what?” you prodded. they smiled at you again. 

“nothing. we just can’t wait for tomorrow.” rebecca soothed your concerns, though it didn’t prevail as much as you hoped. 

“that was weird.” lando said into your ear when you were close to the exit. 

“right?” you were glad he noticed. he always noticed these things. too observant for his own good. 

before you stepped foot out of the club, you turned back when you felt a thump. like a body had fallen to the ground. you stopped in your tracks. 

the man that grabbed your arm laid face flat on the ground. lando looked down at you, looking smug. though he didn’t hit him.

“must’ve tripped.” he shrugged. 

“should watch where he’s going.” you said, knowing that he didn’t just trip.

“guess so.”

────────────

saturday afternoon you were standing beside rebecca and alexandra when qualifying started. you wore a casually chic outfit. pants, a shirt, matching accessories. the stylist lando hired was getting to know you better. she understood what patterns you liked, your sense of aesthetic. it felt like a homecoming. 

“so,” alexandra crossed her legs as all three of you sat on the couch. “what happened with lando last night?”

you were taken back. “what do you mean?”

they exchanged a look. 

“you left together!” rebecca held up her hands as if pointing out the obvious. she was, really. 

“so…?” 

“so…! he went back to your room?” alexandra pleaded in wanting to know details. details of an extravagant night that didn’t happen. 

“we share a hotel room,” they gasped. your hands thrown up in defense. “not like that! he gets two bedrooms for us.” 

the girls settled, not looking entirely pleased. 

“besides,” you sighed. “we’re friends. he doesn’t see me like that.”

so confident

alexandra and rebecca burst out in a laugh. “are you serious?” alexandra wondered. 

you bristled, brow raised, wondering what she meant. “yes…?”

rebecca sighed your name, “have you seen the way he looks at you–?”

“or how he follows you around like a puppy.”

“how he pays for everything for you.”

“oh! how he scares any man off who tries to talk to you.”

your mind went numb. is this true? you thought lando was like that with everyone– kind, considerate, conscious. but as you sat there considering their words, just wondering how much truth was attached to them. 

“are…are you sure?” you hesitated about finding the answer. what would that mean for you? 

“absolutely.”

“one hundred percent.” they said at the same time. so this is what they wanted to talk about.

shit. maybe you were blind. it had gotten tempestuous over the course of these last few months. his growing attentiveness, his softness, his eager eyes whenever you’d make him coffee in the morning. no one makes it as good as you, he’d say. 

would it be so bad that you…weren’t upset with it? you loved being friends with lando. he was always there to listen to you, support you. he cherished your time together. but what if there was a slim chance that you were wrong? that you were in over your head? 

the last thing you wanted was to be embarrassed. 

“what do i do?”

the ferrari girlfriends exchanged looks. 

────────────

lando qualified in fifth for the miami grand prix. you thought he did absolutely wonderful. it was a close quali, he was pushing his car to its limits, but it wasn’t enough in the final stretch. a sigh left you as you were watching the tv, lily at your side. 

oscar placed just below lando at sixth. “i don’t get it,” you said.

lily looked at you, confused. 

“they should be faster. mathematically, i mean.”

lily was an engineering graduate. the question you brought forth had her perking up. you could see the cogs turning in her head. 

“the physical body of the car offsets it.” she tapped her thumb against her elbow, arms crossed. she raised a hand to bite at her thumb, but you stopped her. 

“you’re right. i don’t know–” you just had a weird feeling about this race. about lando. what rebecca and alexandra said…”lily.”

“yeah?”

“do…” you took a light breath in, suddenly intimidated by the answer you could receive. “do you think lando is in love with me?

a beat of silence.

“without a doubt.”

the mclaren plated with number four rolled into the garage. lando jumped out, taking off the neck guard, then his helmet. his hair had gotten longer this month. curls were starting to frame over his forehead. his stubble was more prominent. he was tanner. had his jawline always been that sharp?

he patted his engineer on the back but was looking for something. his eyes were darting all around the room, concern beginning to encompass his face. until he found you and lily, you, in the corner with her. you looked absolutely beautiful today. you had been worried about your outfit, wondering if the colors were too contrasting, or if they washed you out. 

lando didn’t think there was any color that could wash out the beauty of your skin. you were too bright for that, always glowing.

when you saw him, you beamed. but it was different this time. the way he looks at you. how is he looking at me?

he took a few steps forward before you met him half way. your fingers found the zipper to his jumper, the action was new for you and lando. he welcomed it, looking down at you with a smile. 

“you did amazing.” you breathed, undoing the zipper. though you couldn’t reach his eyes with your own. your hand shook against the zipper. he noticed, face falling with a slight frown. 

“are you alright?” 

“perfect,” you answered a bit too quickly. you still haven’t looked at him. you went to turn away, but he grabbed your elbow with a light grip. 

“hey, look at me.” he pleaded, voice entirely too soft and gentle for your state right now. the way he follows you around like a puppy. but why did you blush? why did you fiddle with your fingers, bite your lip? 

you looked up into those lovely pools of green. they shimmered so elegantly. your breath caught in your throat. 

“what happened? did–”

“do you want dinner tonight?” you blurted, suddenly feeling stupid and small. you kept shrinking with each passing second that he didn’t answer. little did you know, he felt like the earth was flipped on his head. was he dreaming? did you ask to have dinner with him? surely you just meant with all of your friends…

“we always have dinner,” he said with a light laugh. you felt shivers creep up your arms. Goosebumps.

“me. just you and me.”

“oh.” oh? that’s all that lando could say? yes. that was it. his brain was short circuiting, unsure of what you were inferring. was there a deeper meaning to this? was he thinking too hard? you’ve gotten dinner just the two of you before. but not in a long time. 

he was absolutely speechless as he looked at you, heart racing in his chest. It was just about to pop out when you opened your mouth to retract your statement and apologize. 

“what’s the dress code?” he bit his lip to hold back his childlike grin. 

“fancy.” you snipped back, feeling entirely too giddy that he seemed to come alive once again. you thought he would reject the idea, a part of you hoped that he did– silly, right? but you were terrified of confrontation. confrontation that rebecca and alexandra could be right. 

“fancy?” he said, taking a step closer to you.

“did i stutter?” your tone was playful as you raised your brows. his tongue got caught on his teeth as he pursed his lips. 

“wanted to make sure i get to see you in a dress.” the comment slipped from his lips easily, suavely. you blushed again. he noticed, surely. it was a rare occurrence that you blushed, even rarer for him to be the reason. what was this feeling in his chest? pride? pride that he could be the one to make you bashful. he felt like a king, wanting to conquer the skirts of your heart. 

“maybe i’ll let you pick it out.” 

lando’s face couldn’t light up any further. what did he do to award such treatment? such…such…god, he was entirely enamored with you. there was not a moment that went by that he didn’t wish you were his. he wanted this to be the norm. whatever it was. was it a date? was he supposed to hold your hand, kiss you? god, god, god, if he got to kiss you…

“deal.”

you were back in the hotel in an instant. the clock read 6pm, and you told lando no later than 7:30. both of you were in the kitchen filling up your bottles of water, cracking jokes between each other. when you were refreshed and relaxed, you spoke. 

“still picking my dress?” you lead him to the door to your room, opening it for him. he followed behind you without a second thought. his eyes weary, glossy. like he was about to cry or something. 

you stood at the doorway to the room. it was a chaotic mess of clothes, ruined sheets, open bottles of water. if lando noticed the state, he didn’t say anything. thank god. 

but he did

lando was keen on noticing every detail of how you lived. your habits. it was the only way he could figure out how your mind worked– the spectacular thing that it was. he turned his head over his shoulder to you, gesturing towards the closet. you nodded. 

he opened the door to the closet, dresses hanging by the dozens. damn, the stylist really put her money’s worth, didn’t she? rather his money, but if it meant for you to look jaw-droppingly stunning, who was he to complain? 

the british driver ran his fingers through the numerous dresses before him. different combinations of cotton, silk, satin. they all felt different at his fingertips, yet you would always be sweet to him. but something else caught his attention–

a lace bodice piece, lingerie, that hung low from a hanger. he waited a beat. another. he pulled it with both his hands, showing you the hanger with a curious, raised brow. 

you flushed.

never in your life did you run as fast as you just had. you tried to snatch the hanger from him, but he held it high above your head. he was laughing. 

“lando!” you screeched, trying to climb up his body to reach it. it only incited a more intense laugh from him. he hummed.

“what’s this for, then? hmm?” 

“i–” you stuttered, not really being able to know what to say. “she gave it to me!” the stylist.

his laugh quieted. “did she?”

“yes! if, you know, i dunno–” you rubbed your arms together anxiously. “if i ever met a guy. or something. it was stupid!”

you tried to get it back from him. he didn’t relent. you stomped your foot. 

“lan, please…” you whispered, looking up at him with his unreadable stare. lando was always the type to know how he felt through his eyes, but now…you didn’t know what you were looking at. 

“did you?”

“did i what?” you huffed, crossing your arms.

“meet a guy?” 

you looked away, embarrassed. “no. not like i was trying, though.”

he relaxed, noticeably. 

keeping all these guys away from you…

“it was just a fun idea. now will you pick something? else i’ll change my mind.” you threaten him. he hung the lingerie piece back up, surrendering instantly. 

you headed to the on-suite bathroom, starting to get ready for your night out. though his tone echoed in your mind– “did you?” – he sounded…deflated. bested, by some indomitable force. you had a growing epiphany that the ferrari girls were right, and you were just too damn scared to admit that such a beautiful man could be interested in you of all people. 

lando knocked on the door frame, watching as you finished up your look. you glanced at him through the mirror, then turning to see the dress he held. it was a long, black dress with lace flowers embroidered into it. it even had sleeves, lace ones, that could keep you warm with the miami breeze. it got rather chilly when the sun went down. 

his choice was rather impressive. dare you say that you liked it. you grabbed the fabric piece from him, taking it off the hanger and leaving it on the counter. it was beautiful– must’ve cost a fucking fortune– breathtaking, though. 

did you even deserve to wear something so elegant? 

“gimme a sec,”  you said, shooing him out of the bathroom before you changed. the dress slipped on with ease, much to your shock. but its downside–the zipper. you tried for about three seconds to get it up in the back, but you gave up.

you opened the door. 

“lan?” you called for him, voice whimpering for his attention. he shifted from your bed, scrolling on his phone. he looked up immediately, eyes widening at the site before him. you were absolutely breathtaking. his hands twitched, desperate to touch you. 

and you weren’t opposed, you thought, given your insolence towards any patience you had for the zipper. ‘test the waters,’ is what alexandra had said to you when you asked her for advice. ‘see how he reacts.’ rebecca followed up. 

testing the waters

that’s what you were doing

you turned your back to him, shimmying out of the bathroom. “zip me?”

“yeah. yeah of course.” he launched to his feet. the dress was so low down the curve of your back. he wanted to trace your spine with his fingers. he was gentle with his touch, warm to the skin. you absentmindedly leaned into him, back arching. 

he zipped the piece with ease, letting his fingers trace the back of your neck. you shivered, goosebumps crawling up your shoulders. he felt them, quickly glancing at the side of your face to gauge your reaction. was he going crazy? your body was so receptive to him. it was addictive. 

you pulled away. his hands felt empty, your back felt cold. 

“thanks,” you smiled bashfully, unable to look him in the eyes. so fucking cute, he thought. “go get dressed, will you? i’m getting hungry.” 

lando bolted from the room, and you managed a short laugh to yourself. while you were alone, you glanced at yourself in the mirror. you still felt entirely undeserving of such a gown. 

you slipped on your shining black heels and had to adjust to their feeling. you were never good at walking in them, but this tour was a playground for you to learn how. you wanted to learn. you felt badass walking around like you had pointy claws. 

in your hands was a matching leather clutch, simple and handheld. you waited patiently for lando, though it took him barely no time at all to look so put together. 

you heard the clink of his loafers before he made himself known. turning around, you got a good look at the man you’ve gotten to know over these past few months. 

it was chilling the way your body electrified. heat pooled in your lower belly, tingling with lust. he was dressed in a black dress shirt, few buttons undone revealing his chains, with a black jacket and taupe pants. his loafers were black with a silver buckle at the center of each shoe. 

he was fiddling with the cufflinks at his jacket when he noticed you gawking at the shape of his abdomen, to his exposed neck. he didn’t want to say a word, afraid that it’d break your moment of admiration. that you would never look at him in such a…virtuous manner. 

but he could never control his tongue. 

“my eyes are up here, darling.” you snapped your head up, blushing. you crossed your legs over each other, leaning against the kitchen isle. 

darling

you were caught red handed. there’s no point in pretending. your blood burned hot in your veins, the petname coming as second nature from his lips. you wanted to hear it again. 

“didn’t know you cleaned up so well.” you pushed off of the isle with ease, waiting for him to join your side. “used to all the sweat and pajamas.” 

he tsked at you, sheepish at your witty remarks. he hoped that no matter what it would always be like this; you and him, full of banter and fun. 

“and you look…agreeable.” his smile was bright, mischievous. you pushed his arm away as he came to rest his hand on your lower back. “kidding!” 

he lowered his voice and connected your eyes with his. “you’re breathtaking.”

and for the first time, you believed him.

────────────

the restaurant he chose was more than you could imagine. with high ceilings, a valet, lights in the shape of mystical orbs strung together on the walls. the floors were made of marble, the tiling on the sidings were matte black. 

but lando didn’t give a fuck about the decorations. he was staring at you. you in your beautiful dress, carrying yourself so elegantly. you were born to fit into this life, whether or not you believe you deserve it. he would do anything to prove that you did. that you were worthy of every dime he spent. 

“right this way, madam.” the waiter ushered you, but you didn’t move until you held out your hand for lando to grab. you’ve never asked him to sober. 

he didn’t hesitate, never did, and latched onto your hand with a warming grip. you tugged him along through the restaurant while he kept getting distracted from you and how you walked so well in those high heeled shoes. he remembers a time when you couldn’t. and look at you now.

the waiter seated you at your two person table. lando pulled out the chair for you. you smiled appreciatively. 

“aren’t you the gentleman.” you acknowledged his kindness, his face brightening as he seated himself with ease. he pulled into the table, leaning over it. you did the same, eager to meet his face with a bashful smile and your hands rubbing together. 

lando looked nervous, but most of all happy. he is happy. to be sitting here with you, in your presence, and most of all, you wanted to be here with him. he didn’t miss how you leaned towards him, your legs crossing over one another as the point of one of your heels grazed his knee. 

“so tell me,” he picked up his water glass, taking a sip. you watched the way his adam’s apple bobbed, the water running through him. you gulped. “why dinner?”

your hand touched the back of your neck. “‘m not allowed to want to spend time with you?”

“didn’t say that, did i?” he placed the glass down. “all this, i mean–” he gestured to your dress, his shirt, the restaurant. “you tryin’ to tell me something, darling?”

one of your fingers ran over your lip. darling. god, it sounded so good coming from him. it put you in such a state of heaven, feeling entirely weightless in his presence. you were staring at him speechless, before you heard a clatter of glass behind you. you were ripped from the safety of your trance. 

“maybe,” you muttered, looking away for him briefly before attempting to switch the topic. “anyways-”

“what was that?” he said languidly, the softness of his tone unrecognizable. his eyes were blown wide, taking in every subtle movement that you made. you felt like you were under a microscope being analyzed by his prerogative. you felt stripped bare– but that wasn’t such a bad thing, was it? no. no it wasn’t. the thought had you blushing. what weren’t you blushing about today?

“the race,” you continued on, disregarding his questioning. “are you nervous?”

he leaned back in his chair in defeat. fine, if she wanted to play it that way. he knew exactly what you said. but he wanted to hear it again. he will hear it again if it is the last thing he ever hears. you said “maybe” and didn’t brush him off with a scoff. his advances towards you had always been playful and light, but you never indulged him so…earnestly. he was caught off guard. in fact, he’s been caught off guard…a lot these past few days. something has shifted–

but what?

“am i supposed to be?” he wondered. you never really asked him those kinds of things. he always had your full reassurance. 

“no. it’ll be just like any other, won’t it?” you felt like you were talking out of your fucking ass. you, all of a sudden, didn’t know how to talk to your best friend. it was gibberish, dry, god, how the fuck did he put up with you beforehand? 

you began fidgeting with your fingers. his eyes latched on the movement. 

“are you nervous?”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, unable to look at him. you didn’t know he leaned in again until you felt his knees bump with yours. you jumped, but sunk into his light touch. 

“i dunno– no? no, why would i be nervous?” you continued fidgeting. “it’s just…it’s all so dangerous, isn’t it? i’ve done the math before. at your speed if–”

“hey.” he cut you off, grabbing both your hands. “hey.” he breathed, looking at you with his widened, sparkling green eyes. your hands were sweaty against his, a byproduct of your anxiety, but he didn’t seem to care when he brought them to his lips, gracing you with a sweet kiss on the top of your palms. 

your breath hitched in your throat. 

“didn’t know that you worried about me so much.” he gave you a light laugh, his eyes crinkling with a smile. he bit his lip. 

“what? of course i do,” you looked at him in disbelief, your hands still held in his. “i mean– why wouldn’t i? we’re friends, aren’t we?”

‘aren’t we?’ was branded into lando’s heart. he swallowed, pulling back and letting your hands fall to the table. “‘course we are.”

“you are both such a beautiful couple.” your waiter approached. you bristled, glanced quickly to lando, and an idea bloomed in your head. test the waters, the girls said. “what can i get for you lovebirds?”

lando sat up straight to correct him, but you stopped him. “you are too kind,” polite smile was gracing as you ran your fingers over the menu. “what are the specials?”

lando’s jaw dropped. he shut it before the flies flew in, but he wouldn’t forget this. no amount of alcohol or fantasies could recreate that feeling. this feeling. you glanced at him while you were ordering, puckering your lips. 

god, he wanted to kiss you. Ruin you. make you his.

dinner went smoothly despite a perpetuous tension lingering over the pair of you. you’ve never fiddled so much before with anything; your dress, napkin, glass. but you were still there with him, and he always knew the perfect way to make you laugh. you wanted to kiss him that night, beneath the glimmer of the moon, but you couldn’t do it. you couldn’t muster the courage to break the barrier. 

but you would, in time.

on your way out of the restaurant you were keen on grabbing his hand first. you felt him tense and he covered his mouth with his free hand, surely hiding a cheeky smile. 

the cameras were flashing when you came down the steps. you’d be trending on every social media platform, especially with how bright your smile was, and how tightly you gripped his hand. 

────────────

race mornings were always chaotic. but you somehow managed to make it to the track at the end of the f2 race with lando at your side. In the mclaren hospitality room, you straightened his collar of the fireguard, taking a deep inhale of his subtle cologne and natural scent. you felt dizzy, struck by the desire to run your hands over his chest. 

your touch lingered longer than it normally did. he noticed. what didn’t he notice?

especially after your stunt last night. he didn’t get a wink of sleep. he was up all night staring at his phone, watching the pictures light up his feed. he wasn’t embarrassed, shocked, nor ashamed. the british driver was entirely elated. with your graceful composure, assuredness in holding him at your side. 

he scrolled through the comments, too, but there was not one negative thing he could find. spare a few comments that he had to bite his tongue on responding to, you were gaining an overwhelming amount of support from his fans.

your fans.

there were accounts made in your honor. outfit accounts, update accounts, people with your face as their profile picture. he scrolled through every one of them. he was maddeningly obsessed. 

but what changed? why were you acting this way? not that he was upset by this change…but your inability to tell him…tell him what was going on frightened him. he felt anxious. 

“what’s going on with you?” he brought his face closer to yours, lowering his voice so no one else could hear the both of you. 

“nothing. it’s nothing.” your tone was hastened, weary. 

“it doesn’t sound like–” 

“we’re ready for you, lando.” his engineer interrupted the two of you with a polite smile. 

the british driver sighed. 

you placed your hands on his chest. “i’m fine.” though it did little to soothe his woes. 

he looked at you weary eyed, brows turnt upward with concern. he didn’t believe you. 

“i just…” your hand trailed up his neck, thumb caressing his bottom lip. he stayed perfectly still beneath your fingertips. “really want you to win.” 

you placed a soft kiss on his opposite cheek. 

“you got this, lan.” 

he kissed your thumb that was on his lips and said nothing else before he jumped into the mclaren.

────────────

you were on absolute edge the entire race. it was an uphill battle. you’ve never been seen so anxious with your headset on, tapping your feet anxiously against the concrete. arms crossed over your chest, it was down to the last few laps. lando had been hard running in first.

first. lando was in first. 

you could feel this in your blood. he was born for this.  

and when he crossed that fucking finish line, you’ve never felt so much joy in your entire life. 

he yipped and punched his fist in the air, his screams were pure music to your ears. 

his engineers came to pat you on the back, gauging your all too excited reaction. lily was at your side, too, jumping and giving you a hug. 

lando jumped from his parked car, ripping off his helmet and neck guard. he was on top of the fucking world when he jumped atop the crowd of mclaren workers, them holding him up with ease and chanting his name. 

you stood beside lily, hand covering your mouth to stifle your sobs. you couldn’t be more proud of him than in this moment. 

he caught your eye from above the crowd, watching the tears fall down your face. when he jumped off his celebratory pile, he ran over to you. 

you threw your arms around his neck, launching yourself against him. he caught you, he always would, and held you tight. he would never let you go. never. your tears wet the base of his neck.

“lando…” you said into his race suit that smelled of burnt rubber and sweat. you didn’t care. this was your lando. 

he pulled back, looking at you with concern. it was a characteristic look for him these past few days. 

but you wanted that to go away. 

you wanted nothing but his happiness. his joy. his passions. to see him on top of the world. but you wanted to be right there with him, side by side. 

your lips were on his before he blinked. he was taken back, surprised, and face dripping in sweat. your hands gripped around his muscular neck, tugging him to you. you wanted more. you wanted this. this over anything. him over anything. 

he returned your kiss when he was done pinching himself. your lips were entirely too sweet. luckily he had a sweet tooth. 

his hand cupped the back of your head, tilting you towards him for a better, deeper angle. you moaned into him as he sucked on your bottom lip, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. you were floating, floating in the world of lando norris. you never wished to return to the ground. 

but you did. the cheers around you got louder. you realized you would too if this kept up.

the new grand prix winner wasn’t finished, though, when his free hand gripped your hip. you stifled a giggle by smiling into his mouth, catching your breath. “lan,” you chuckled. 

“don’t tell me this is a dream.” he had tears swelling in his eyes, lips plump from your kiss. “i might just have to–”

you cupped his cheek. 

“real.” you assured him. “i’m real. this–” you brought his gloved hand to your heart. “is real.”

he bit his lip, though it did little to conceal his smile. 

“drink some champagne for me.”

he kissed you once more. a telltale we aren’t done. 

and you sure as hell weren’t. 

────────────

“don’t understand why we’re celebrating out there,” lando gestured to the door as you were putting your heels on in a hurry. “when we could be here.” he pulled you to him, your back flushed against his chest. you leaned into him, sighing. 

“because your friends want to celebrate,” you finished putting on your shoes. “me included.”

lando’s hand tightened around your waist. “you’re not my friend.”

your brows upturned when you spun around to face him. your expression was sickeningly innocent. “‘m not?” your hands landed on his chest, turning your head to the side with fluttering lashes. 

“absolute minx,” lando seethed with a hearty laugh, leaning in to kiss you. your noses brushed together, his lips coming to graze yours. but you smiled and pulled away from him before he could taste your lipstick. 

he made a move to pull you back to him by your elbow, but you gave him a look. “we’re going to your celebrations, lan. don’t care what you have t’say.”

he groaned, his head falling forward to your shoulder. your hands raked through his hair, down the back of his neck. he practically purred like a fucking kitten under your fingertips. 

“and as far as i know,” you kissed his temple. “we’re still friends. haven’t asked me to be your girlfriend, did you?” your hands curled in his hair, pulling him to meet your eye. he bit his lip, blushing!

“you’re blushing, baby!” you cooed, reaching to squeeze one of his cheeks. 

“can’t blame me,” he muttered, head darting back into the crook of your neck and leaving soft kisses down to your collarbones. “the most beautiful woman has her hands all over me…what am i supposed to do with m’self?” he chuckled and you felt his teeth against your sensitive skin. you sucked in a breath with a smile. 

“ask her,” you lowered your voice, whispering into him. “i’m sure she’ll say yes.”

“would she?” his head perked up, flushed and warm from your neck.

“in every universe, lan.”  your humorous tone turned serious. he gulped, adam’s apple bobbing when he felt the weight of your words. “you know that gravity is the only force that can travel through any dimension? any time, any place, it will be found.”

he was listening to you intensely, voice cracking as he spoke. “i would find you.” 

your eyes widened at him. 

“through any black hole, space phenomena, wormhole,” his breath fanned your cheeks. “i’ll always find you.”

you leaned in to kiss him. he met you halfway, swallowing your mouth with his. you let him push you up against the counter, your hand gripping the ledge so you didn’t tumble over. you opened your mouth and his tongue slipped in without hesitating. he explored the corners of your mouth, the shapes of your teeth, your own tongue. 

your moan was deep from your chest when you felt his hand start to slip up your thigh. his pinky scathing the fabric of your thin underwear. you gasped when he ran trailed over your cunt, already wet and swollen under his touch.

"all for me, baby?" he chuckled into your neck, soothing your cunt of its tumultuous ache.

you nodded, but that wasn't enough.

"words. need words."

"fuck. yes, lan, all for you." you moaned when he flexed a finger inside of you, the sweet burn was tender to your growing coil in your belly. but things just can't go smoothly, can they?

you were brought back to earth when your phone began to ring. fuck. 

you tried pushing lando off of you, but he grumbled against your lips. you smiled, but detached from him. “lan,” he shook his head, refusing to let you go. “lan, it’s probably everyone wondering where you are.”

“don’t care.”

“you should.” 

“don’t.” his mind didn’t change, finger still exploring you before you shook him off.

you kissed the tip of his nose. “we won’t stay for long, okay? besides…”

there was a sheepish look on your face. “i have a boyfriend to show off.” 

lando didn’t need to be told twice to get you swept off your feet and into his car. 

────────────

the entire drive there his hand was on your thigh, so high that he traced the lining of your black laced underwear with his pinky. you gripped his wrist tightly, but said nothing the entire ride there. 

when you pulled up, a valet man opened the door for you. you stepped out and were met with ten times the amount of flashing cameras that you were used to. you got this. with a straight posture and elegant– as elegant as you could muster– composure, you waited for lando to meet at your side. 

you weren’t disappointed when you felt his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowds. shouts were sent your way, his way; “lando! lando! is this your girlfriend? are you dating? what’s her name?”

he made sure to answer only one question with your nod of approval before he climbed the steps to the nightclub. 

“lando! is this your girlfriend?”

“yes,” he said with his charming nature, turning back to look at you, starstruck by your beauty. you smiled back at him, hand caressing his chest. the cameras went wild at your natural pose with each other. 

inside the club was much better. with a restricted guest list of close friends and family, you were at ease. when you entered you were met with all three of your closest girlfriends. lily, rebecca, and alexandra. they squealed when they saw you, sprinting in your direction leaving their boyfriends in distress by their absence. 

“congratulations, lando!” lily said upon her arrival first, then glancing to you. “and an even more congratulations is in order? are you fucking kidding me!” she said with utter glee. you leaned further into lando’s side if that was possible. he relaxed at your touch, hand loose at your hip. 

“i knew it.” rebecca said with certainty. 

“she really did,” alexandra confirmed. 

you rolled your eyes at the pair of them. 

“i’ll get us drinks, baby.” lando whispered into your ear, his nose jutting against your hair. he gave you a kiss to your head and departed from your side, meeting up with the guys, too. 

“tell us everything!” alexandra jumped up and down. 

“there’s not much to tell.” you shrugged, hands thrown up in defense. “i just thought about what you said. you were right. i was so, so blind.” wasted time was a fear of yours.

“we’re proud of you anyways. have you seen all the paparazzi for you?” rebecca opened her phone, scrolling endlessly through her timeline. “i fucking hate you. you look perfect in every one of them.” 

“oh please,” you brushed her off. “have you looked in a mirror, becca?” 

it was a stellar night. you found yourself on the dance floor shortly after with your favorite drink in your hand, per lando’s stellar memory of your order. 

without another moment longer, your hips were moving over lando’s on the dance floor, his hands loose on your hips as he ran them up and down your body. you decided you weren’t going to have more than one drink tonight, preferring to remember every moment of this celebration.

the song was a bumping rap tune, easy to follow along with your suave moves. “suave,” you were just letting loose against your now boyfriend. the word was still foreign to you, but you felt increasingly giddy at the mention. 

lando, though? he was a changed man. not only did your kiss bring him ultimate luck before his race, he now has you at his side. he’ll do anything to keep you there. fuck, how did he get so lucky? he had a feeling something was going on, but never would he think it would be your lips on his after his race. he can still taste your tears.

you cried for him the entire time he was up on that podium, absolutely relishing in the national anthem played in his honor. and he could only keep his eyes on you. your glittering, magnificent eyes that sparkled beneath the miami sun. they sparkled for him, only him, on this marvelous day. 

and he would let everyone know that you shined for him. that you were his. while he may have won his first race, you were better than any trophy he could ever get. 

eventually, everyone raised their glasses for lando and cheer’s to his victory. you held your glass high, downing the entire thing. he did the same, only keeping to a few so he could see you as clear as day. he felt the same way…he never wanted to forget a moment with you. 

you faced him now, body still swaying to the music. with your chest brushing against his, you felt a growing heat over your neck. as the night went on, the sweatier lando became. the more his tanned skin glowed beneath the hue of the lights. the more his cologne pumped through your nose. it was impossible to not be intoxicated by him, drunk on his affection. 

with your hands gripping his neck, you looked up to him through your hooded eyes, a look that he wished he could take a fucking picture of. 

“what?” he said into your ear. 

you only shifted closer into him if that was possible. 

“need me, baby?” he chuckled low and wicked. you shifted on your feet, tightening your legs together. you almost did before lando stuck his leg out, having you tightened around him.

you nodded rapidly into his neck, clutching the fabric of his shirt. it was an appropriate time to leave, too, given that many have already bid their goodbyes. lando was only sticking around for you, after all. “please,” you whimpered into his ear, mouth wetting the skin beneath his chin. 

“fuck.” he cursed, maneuvering your body towards the exit with ease. his hands felt so good around you. you wanted them everywhere all the time. 

you bid your farewells to your friends with haste, feeling a slight guilt for leaving so…suddenly.

but lando didn’t. 

the drive back to the hotel took no time at all, lando blowing through every fucking stop sign and light that came in his direction. his hand was firm on your thigh this time, white knuckling the steering wheel. you stared at him, his side profile. he was too irresistible like this–needy, urgent– so you leaned over to kiss the side of his face, down his neck with sensual, puckering kisses.

he leaned his head back, giving you access to his thick neck. you had no idea how he kept focus on the road, but you had full faith in him to get back unscathed. 

“i know, baby,” he sighed, low and deep. “almost there.”

pulling into the valet, you opened the door yourself. lando threw the keys up in the air to the doorman and proceeded to rush you through the lobby. you couldn’t contain your giggles when he kept pressing the elevator button over and over. 

“that doesn’t make it any faster, you know.” you commented, your own foot tapping against the cool marble of the ground. 

“i’ll show you fast, baby, watch your mouth.” chills ran up your spine. your legs clenched together again and you couldn’t meet his eye. 

bastard. 

when the elevator opened, you shuffled inside and he had you against the wall before you could catch your breath. his lips attacked yours, moving down to your jawline, peppering your neck with slower, intense kisses. you moaned, biting your lip to conceal the sound the best you could. 

he moved to your chest, your collarbones being the first to be victim of his biting kiss. he would bruise the skin atop your breasts, marks for only him to gawk at. it looks like you won’t be getting any miami sun any time soon. or ever if his swirling tuck keeps suckling against your skin. 

“fuck, lan.” you whimpered, looking down at him below you, hands cupping his neck in place. he would happily be imprisoned by you like this. he would never go hungry. 

he groaned at your breathless response, adhering heavily to his actions as he didn’t miss an inch of your skin with his sloppy kisses. you pulled at the curly hair of his scalp that had his eyes rolling back into his head. you watched the delectable sight, your panties becoming increasingly damp as the seconds rolled by. 

the doors to your floor opened. lando didn’t move for a moment. you pulled his head back from his devouring of your skin. “you’re fucking me in your bed or not at all.” 

“you’re the death of me, darling.”

you were swept across the floors of your hotel, lando fumbling with the key to the room anxiously. you kissed up his neck in anticipation until the door clicked open and you were practically tossed inside. he slammed the door shut, throwing the “do not disturb” sign on the handle. not a soul would bust in on the two of you. 

you were ripping off your heels and throwing them across the floor before you were latched onto him again. but it didn’t last long until you wanted more. you weren’t going to fuck him in this kitchen, either. you were going to do it right, despite your hazy mind and actions. 

lando chased after you like a mad man. you squealed running through the hotel room on your tip toes until you burst open the door to his place. the bed sheets were ruffled, clothes on the floor, and it smelled like him. you bit back a moan at the sight, lando’s chest meet your back.

his lips were back on your neck, your shoulders. he tore through the fabric of your dress, undoing the zipper with methodical fingers. the gown fell to the floor, leaving your chest bare and your panties thin and otherworldly. 

you were ethereal. 

there wasn’t an ounce of shame inside of you when you spun around to face him. his hands were running up and down your bare skin, feeling how soft you were. a cuss fell verbosely from his lips, like honey. 

you backed away from him with an enticing look, swaying your hips before you fell backward on his bed, hands threading over your head. a palm came down to trace down your sternum, your lower belly, the hem of your dampened panties. 

lando watched you through his darkened eyes, almost black with desire. black holes. they sucked up the light around them, absorbing it without second thought. you wanted nothing more than to be absorbed by him. wholly. 

he stalked towards you like a hunter, back straight with his lip caught between his teeth. he wanted to ravage you right here– tear the underwear from your hips, fuck you into another dimension, but he would resist. all he wanted was to savor this moment, this vision, of you laying out before him, bare and vulnerable. all for him. you trusted him with your intimacy, your touches. he’d do nothing more to keep you like this. 

the british driver stood over you, your legs coming to squeeze together until his knee shoved its way through. your thighs dangled over the edge of the bed, burning with the scorching heat of your core. 

one of his fingers came down to run over your chest, your nipples, your abdomen. you squirmed at his teasing touch, feeling everything and absolutely nothing at once. you mewled deep within your throat, begging for more. 

he stopped at the band of your underwear, latching the same finger beneath it and drawing his hand back. the fabric peeled away with ease, your cunt glistening at his will. he noticed, of course, nostrils flaring with a tense angst of lust. no woman had looked as beautifully sinful as you have. you were a blessing and a curse– the most angelic devil he’s ever met. 

“beautiful,” he cooed, trailing two fingers over the crease of your thighs, over the lips of your pussy. you whined again, shifting your hips to get him to touch you where you needed him. badly. he tsked, at your impatience. 

it took him all of a second to launch atop of you, his turn to cage you in with his toned arms. you watched as his veins pulsed, blood running viciously hot through his body. it had you glancing down at the outline of his cock through his pants, the indent firm and mesmerizing. 

you salivated, a string of drool leaking from your mouth. he wiped it away with his thumb and a chuckle, looking at you from his elevated position above you. “soon, sweet girl.”

that was enough for you right now. his lips attached to your chest once more, spots already swollen and bruising with his previous attack. he moved to your breasts, cupping them in his palms, kneading the flesh. it felt heavenly to be beneath him like this– you never thought you could be so vulnerable with a man like this before. 

the british driver’s mouth moved to your opposing nipple, latching onto it with his tongue swirling over the sensitive bud. you whined, mouth opening for a loud gasp at the curdling sensation. you felt that feeling in your lower belly, a white hot coil that was desperate to snap. 

you were so soft beneath his touch. he could mold you, bruise you for his own gawking at a later date. and you wanted him to. you were his and he was yours. nothing could change that now. 

he moved to the other breast, not daring to neglect any part of you. it was euphoric how delectable this was. you’ve never been touched so intimately. no one has cared this much about your pleasure. but to lando, it was everything. 

his gospel was on your pleasures. 

“lan, lan please,” you whimpered, squirming beneath him when he wasn’t between your thighs yet. “need you so bad.” 

“i know baby,” he said into the skin of your belly. you felt his smirk. he kept trailing down and down. “so pretty,” he sighed, coming face to face with your folds, swollen and beating for his touch. 

 you clenched around nothing, and the desperation has never been so poignant. 

and then his tongue was on you, spreading you wide. you gasped, so responsive to his touch, and grappled onto the curly strands of his hair. he was deliberate with his touches, fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs. his tongue drilled into you, curling upward that had you biting back your moans. despite your efforts, it was a failure. you were slack jawed and squirming beneath him. his grip tightened around your thighs in response, surely bruising the skin. 

he tongued every corner of your pussy, swiping over your clit once that had you jolting upward. he memorized the spot, stimulating you to the point where the coil began to itch to snap. 

there was no hope for you when he was getting impatient and added a finger to rub circles on your clit, his tongue continuing to thrust in and out of you. pleasure would build and build, rising to an ultimate bliss when he found that sparkler inside of you. 

at the angle he caressed with his tongue, you bucked your hips into him further. you felt him chuckle into you, his throat vibrating with such a cocky sound. he found a spot that made you fucking tick and you were entirely at his disposal. 

he abused the motion of his fingers, the assault of his tongue. you felt entirely undone by him, progressively getting tighter and tighter at his motions. “come on, baby…” he spoke into you. you couldn’t help the uncontrollable arch of your back. “you’ll be a good girl and come for me, won’t you?”

yes, yes! your mind shouted, fingers hanging onto his hair for dear life. you moaned, soaking further with his words of encouragement, eyes rolling back into your head. ‘course you needed him to talk you through it. how silly of lando with such an oversight. “so good, lan…”

“i’ve got you,” he uttered. “fuck baby, so pretty f’me. come on now,” and you needed nothing more than his sweet praise brushing past your ears to have the coil inside of you snap. 

you saw stars as you came on his tongue, sweet nectar filling his mouth with a gulp. he kissed every part of you, cleaning you with his tongue. you watched, weary eyed, amazed by how hot the action was. your pussy clenched. he felt it. glancing up at you from his position on his knees. 

“taste so good, sweet girl.” he cleaned up the excess from your plump folds with two fingers, bringing them towards your mouth. 

you opened your mouth on cue, his eyes widening with awe. you were fucking perfect. lips latching onto his plush fingers, you sucked them clean amply. you’ve never done such an act before, but it felt…natural. his dick was painfully hard in his pants, almost cumming at the sight of your lust filled eyes.

“my perfect girl…” 

you whined, sitting up on your elbows and clenching your hand to etch him closer. he listened on command, climbing to you. it was his shirt, pants, socks, shoes, everything that was on him that bothered you. 

fingers coming to yank at the hem of his shirt, he swiftly understood your nonverbal wishes. he tore his shirt over his head, throwing it to the corner of the room, and you fiddled with the belt of his jeans. your fingers worked fast and anxiously, throwing the damn belt across the room with a slap. he gripped your chin with a laugh as he loomed above you. 

“want you,” you demanded of him in your sweet, cracked voice. he wouldn’t make you beg this time, pulling his garments down with a swift motion. his cock sprung free and up towards the skin of his lower stomach. you flushed. precum was seeping from his tip, dripping onto your thighs. fuck, you whimpered under your breath. 

he didn’t settle for a grace period to settle from your orgasm. he wasn’t nearly finished with you. his hand came to cup the side of your face, your lips finding the skin of his palm. wet kisses covered the surface. he groaned. “you got me baby. relax for me, yeah?” 

you nodded eagerly, unable to speak as you wiggled your hips from side to side. he bent over and continued to kiss gingerly down your neck, his tip teasing your swollen cunt. you gasped into him, pulling him close to you. he grumbled, finding this angle inadequate. soon enough your legs were over his shoulders with one swift movement. 

lando dipped down for a kiss, his lips hot and feral against your own. soon enough, you felt him clamor inside of you. the stretch was invigorating, your entire body springing to life with his beating cock. “oh my god,” your head flew back into the sheets sinking inward as he felt too heavenly to be real.

“that’s it baby,” your cunt tightened around him with those sweet words. as he progressed further, you felt yourself fall further and further into pure bliss. you’d find no such place elsewhere, only in the comfort of his arms. you knew that to be certain. “taking me so well…”

you sucked in a breath, letting out a hoarse moan when he bottomed out inside of you, walls clenching entirely too tight and he thought he’d cum right then and there. but he withheld the best he could, promising to never cum before you did. he needed to see your face when you’d finish on his cock. 

“fuck…move, move lan, need you.” you whined, adjusting extremely well to his size. he didn’t even need to prod you to beg for him, you were already a willing candidate. he always knew you would. your sweet eyes, droopy and dolled up for him at the races. he’d imagined these scene over and over in his head, and never once did it disappoint when he’d fist his cock. now you were here, and your cunt was even more heavenly than he imagined. 

“anything, baby.” his pace was even and controlled, but you could see that he was tense. through your bedroom eyes, you could feel the tension through his cock. you appreciate the sentiment of taking it slow, but you knew how he was. 

he liked to be fast. 

“more,” you moaned, his head shooting up to look at you with surprise. you cupped his cheeks, flushed face begging him. “fuck me, lan. need you so fucking bad, please, please–”

he would burn the fucking world for you. you didn’t know it at that moment, but he had never been so in love with you than he has been before. he adhered to your wishes, losing the tension in his shoulders as he began a rough pace against your cunt. 

it was his only goal to make sure you felt him in every part of your body. he stretched every corner of your walls, squeezing him at every increasing thrust. he explored you fully and promised to know every inch of you. 

“taking me so well,” he grunted out, hips flexing in and out of you with an egregious pace. it was to your ultimate liking to get fucked so well by him. 

“lan…” you drawed out in a moan, lost in the stars of his throttling pace. “you’re so good. so fucking–” your own pleasure cut you off, squealing when he shifted only slightly and had your core clenching him tight. 

he let out a greedy snicker, knowing he found a spot that made you unbelievably tick. it was his to find, and his to use. you would know no better pleasure than what he awarded you. 

“oh fuck–!” you yelped as your release continued to build, the tip of the iceberg in reach. lando felt it, too, with his own stomach tightening and desperate to cum inside of you. you were a trigger for all his desires, and it would be sent off with a singular please that could leave your lips. the power you held over him and didn’t even know it…

“always gonna make you feel good, baby.” he promised you, dipping his abdomen over yours for a deeper, tighter angle. you whimpered, unable to speak. he would do it for you as he kissed over your cheeks, your jawline. 

his hand came to the column of your throat. your eyes flared with an undeniable attention and intrigue. you clenched around him, and he hadn’t even applied pressure. “always.” and you fucking believed him when his fingers swiped at the sides, applying the slightest pressure of his fingers to your airway. you fell lax against the sheets, trusting him with every part of your body. no one else would feel this way for him. no one except you. 

your eyes swelled with hot tears, breaking when he was firmer with his grasp, even with his hard cock beaming in and out of you. 

he lavished at the sight. he never knew he was so hungry up until now, starving for your affection, your pleasures. how perfect you were could never be summarized in words alone. 

“i love you,” you sputtered out, breathless and flushed hot. lando’s pace didn’t falter, but his grip around your neck loosened. 

“say it again,” he demanded, face pushing up into the crevice of your neck.

“love you so much, lando,” it was a promise you made to him. to yourself. he swore against your neck, his breath hot and humid against your skin. 

“come for me. come on, my love.” his words were only encouraging you towards and ultimate release, your tears hot against your cheeks. “i’ve got you, i’ve got you baby. so good for me, aren’t you?”

“yes, yes!” you whimpered, coil of lust for the british driver snapping a second time, harder, bringing an entire galaxy into your vision. you traveled through time and with lando, you found yourself grounded together in every universe. this was home. 

your cunt tightened, causing his pace to get sloppy, his own release parallel to yours. you milked him dry, panting and chests heaving together. 

he fell on top of you, his full weight comforting against your wet skin. he didn’t pull out yet, too exhausted to find the effort. 

“did you mean it?” i love you.

“yes.”

lando became shy as he found himself brushing your nose with his. “i love you, too. have for a long time.” 

a long time

“i will love you in every life time,” you said, earning you the brightest smile that the driver could muster. a lifetime. 

“a lifetime…” he repeated, in a daze. “love you so much…” he said your name into your cheek, giving you a plump kiss. “infinite lifetimes would never be enough.” 

you peppered his face with kisses. this was your gravity. the force that kept you grounded throughout time. if you ever got lost in the cosmic reaches, you would be able to find him. find home. find the beacon of light that he provided. 

you were safe here, and so was he. and does gravity know no bounds between objects. you would be attached to one another for the rest of your living days, and even further throughout the cosmos. and that was enough for you, for now. 

────────────

weeps;;

i am also open for requests <3

[reshinless]

kinich aggressively kissing you to the point you cant breathe. I can js imagine him holding your head against his and groaning while kissing you and then liQBQQHQJQKADFJTB AAAHAHEBWBS KINICH BRAINROT IS REAL

LIKE HE'LL TAKE BREATHS EVERY ONCE IN AWHILE BUT HE WONT STOP AND HE'LL BE LIKE

"I love your lips s'much."

SCREAMAIJNHHSGAGSBDB

──── ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა kiss 'till we're naked !﹒⟢﹒

ᯓ★ ── . summ. wherein kinich can't stop looking at your lips, why not give him a taste?

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ director's note. new layout ++ cute request!! i'll write more tonight, for now enjoy kinich crumbszzz, day 1 of kinktober :3

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader

ᯓ★ ── . warnings. nsfw, making out/kissing, switch!kinich kind of (leaning more onto sub, I received the asks wherein they ask for sub!kinich soo), switch!reader, childhood best friends to lovers, riding (kinich receiving)

no one would've expected to see renowned hunter- kinich, pinning his long-time childhood crush friend to the couch. a hand to cup your cheek, this tasted better than victory.

a charged silence was shared between you both, you certainly did love your childhood best friend, platonically and romantically. he maintained eye contact with you, you were somewhat spread out in front of him.

"may i kiss you, pretty?" he pleaded, maintaining a stare that told you everything you needed to know. he wanted you so bad, he needed you. he gulped, getting closer to your face.

you could feel a rush of heat flush to your lips- by the time you realized, you had already closed your eyes as he leaned in. it felt like the world stopped for a moment, his warm breath could be felt over your nape.

but finally- their lips touch. a kiss wasn't just something you reciprocated with your mouth. no, to kinich; it was his whole body reacting to how you felt against his lips.

in no way shape or form was the first long passionate kiss you both shared perfect, but it was damn near close. he pulled away, a smile dancing across his face. he's still in shock, but that is not to say he didn't enjoy it.

his hand held your face carefully, inspecting it before going in for a shy peck on your lips. that was at first, but progressively he started to ask for more each time.

you both shared a small, quick, yet passionate kiss for a sudden moment. it was just like any other evening looking up through the roof of your shared home- the sky was just an ocean of stars. as they stared back into the scene before them. "..can i have one more?"

and something around five... six... seven kisses later, you already went this far, might as well continue from there. he slowly took his gloves off, running the pads of his rough palms across your body.

you could feel every grunt, and groan he let out against your lips. pulling away for a moment just to breathe, and get right back into it. . his warm touch making sure to explore as much as he could (and only the areas you were comfortable with)

kinich starts off by placing kisses down on your body- you couldn't help but giggle, a hand in his hair as he continued. "kin.. that tickles." he placed one more kiss, trailing back up from your stomach to your lips. "for the times you took care of me when I was sick back then."

another peck. "for the time you dragged me to your home so I could eat with you and your parents back when we were younger.."

"and.." one last soft peck he places, his lips aren't chapped anymore. the saliva made the texture of his mouth was a lot softer than before, at least that's what you noticed.

"for making me feel at home." -he continued. archons was he so in love with you.

you smirk as you decide to pull him in by his collar, a blush running up his neck, to his ears. heavily breathing after the bold move you just made. you couldn't help but hold his face closer. flipping your position over; positioning him under you.

you straddled yourself atop his hips, feeling him through your clothed cunt. the intoxicating sense of whatever kinich had in mind wasn't something you'd think he'd plan, but you won't complain of course.

aligning the head of his cock into your oh-so-sweet hole, he couldn't help but groan. "haah- s- s'good pretty.." you couldn't help but arch your own back, you already felt dizzy and it was 'just the tip'.

you started to sink down slowly onto his shaft. fuck it felt so good, his headwear over his eyes, he could feel the way your velvety walls clenched around the base of his dick.

his hands kneaded your waist, the more you whimpered, each time that he hit your center of pleasure. only getting more turned on how each time you roughly slapped yourself down onto him made such loud noises, it probably could echo out the window nearby.

plop plop plop! "ssshit baby, slow down, 'm not going anywhere.." his breath hitched for a moment as you rolled your heavenly hips against his.

"k- kiinnnn ahh fffuckk!" you shuddered from the way his cock hit your g-spot so well. " 'm also close, pretty, shiitt waitt.." feeling his length literally throb inside you.

kinich loved the way his cock split you wide open, your thighs trembling even with the first thrust when you sank down onto him. ohhh he felt himself getting even closer.

"mmf fffuck- keep talking to me, baby." the lusty tone in your voice made him even harder against your sweet little cunt. he wanted to hear everything- from how his cock made you feel better than any other guy has. they didn't deserve you anyway. to how it feels getting such lengthy girth inside you.

you suddenly gasp as your orgasm came almost as a surprise, kinich slamming you down harshly onto his hips, his head threw back, and your eyes rolled back. "ahhn- fffuck c- cumming-!"

kinich who felt his orgasm come faster as well, hearing the way you moaned out to him, telling him how he was so good for you, you creamed on his cock. he felt his load shoot up inside you. leaning closer to your chest.

"..can i kiss you?"

"again?"

"please?"

dunno about this, it seems pretty okay ish I didn't mean to make it smut at first tho LOL

[benkeibear]

『 Patching them up 』

☼ synopsis: you patch them up after a fight

☼ characters: Sakura / Suo / Umemiya

☼ wc: 1.4k

��� cw: mentions of fights, wounds and blood

☼ notes: this windbreaker brainrot is going strong someone help my dear head || don't forget to sign up for the taglist so you won't miss out!

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹Sakura:

✧ Sakura didn't expect you to be sitting there at the Café when they returned after yet another fight and he almost walked right back out through the door, but Umemiya blocked his path, a stern look on his face

✧ You could see that Umemiya urged Sakura to walk towards you, a heavy blush on his cheeks as his face contorted into a scowl

✧ He looked like he'd rather be anywhere else but near you - near anyone right now and you decided to make it easier for him, not teasing him or speaking much

✧ Kotoha knew about your little crush on the man in front of you and decided that you will be helping to patch the guys of Furin up - perhaps you can get a little closer to him this way

✧ Sakura sat down with a huff on the chair in front of you, glaring to the side when his classmates snickered at how nervous you look now

✧ "I-I can do that myself. I'm not a child," he mumbled and wanted to take the bandages from your hand but you held onto his wrist - firm but careful to not hurt him

✧ You gave him a stern look and gently held the ice pack to his swollen eye, your gaze getting stuck on his handsome face which made him grind his teeth

✧ "You got a problem?" He asked pissed off and wanted to jerk away but when your gaze softened he was lost for a moment

✧ With gentle hands you bandaged his still bleeding knuckles, your fingers working so careful that he could only sit there dumbfounded, holding the ice pack to his face

✧ Without any further complaint he let you dress various wounds and clean the cuts but he drew the line at his face, unable to feel your caring gaze on him without getting affected

✧ However, you insisted on using the butterfly bandage on his brow to close the rather nasty cut without it leaving a scar behind and Sakura let you under heavy protest

✧ When you brushed the white hair out of his face, you saw that even the tips of his ears were blushed, his skin warm to the touch and you felt the heat rising up your cheeks as well

✧ Your hand rested on his face longer than necessary and you removed it as the second you realized, jerking away as if his skin just burned you

✧ The man in front of you didn't even dare to complain when you held one of his hands ever so gently while holding the ice pack to his knuckles

✧ It took so long to patch him up but it seems like both of you rather enjoyed the way you took care of him and perhaps he will let you take care of him again next time with a little less protest

✧ If you kiss his hands he might fall off the chair, affection a rather new thing to him but he would willingly bruise his knuckles again just to feel your lips on his skin

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹Suo:

✧ Suo was always so kind and his hands were so soft and gentle when holding yours or cupping your cheek, you never thought he could even fight

✧ So when he came back home after helping someone out of trouble you almost dropped the glass you were holding upon setting eyes on him

✧ There was a single cut on his cheek and his knuckles were bruised, some spots even bleeding but he wore his usual smile

✧ Without hesitation you walked over to him and inspected his hands, worry etched on your face but he did his best to reassure you, waving your concerns off

✧ “Oh please, this is nothing but a scratch you don't need to worry” He gently took his hands back from yours, not wanting you to worry about him

✧ His opponent certainly looked worse so what are a couple of bruised knuckles?

✧ You insisted on patching him up however and he sighed heavily, a sad smile on his face when he agreed to it

✧ He hated to burden you like this but it was you who insisted on it and who was he to deny your acts of love and care?

✧ Suo didn't complain a single time, not even when you dropped the bandages multiple times or hesitated to use the rubbing alcohol on his usually soft and delicate hands

✧ His lack of reaction to the more painful aspects of cleaning wounds surprised you but you didn't question it, still apologizing for putting him through this

✧ You didn't want to ask about what happened, your lovers rough side a mystery to you and he was glad you didn't ask

✧ He might be proud of his skills but beating someone up was nothing he'd ever brag about aside from the fact that he never starts a fight unless it's to protect someone

✧ You gently bandaged his hands up and kissed each of them tenderly which made him feel so loved and accepted by you

✧ When you cleaned the small cut on his face he insisted that you won't put a bandaid on it since it's not that deep so you put away the cutest bandaids you were able to find - little star shaped bandaids

✧ Once you were done of taking care of him he thanked you dearly. That you care about him this much fills him with so much gratitude

✧ Safe to say that he pampered you the rest of the evening by cooking your favorite meal and just holding you close

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹Umemiya:

✧ You were always the first to get texted that things went well and that he's okay which made you no stranger to taking care of wounds

✧ Being Umemiya’s loving partner meant that you patch up his guys after fights and you did so without a single complaint, proud of them for what they do

✧ But even if it was just Ume who got into a fight, you were the first he went to, a big smile on his bruised face and it made you wonder how he can be so cheerful in this state

✧ His secret trick? He gets to feel your hands on him, gets to bathe in your love and your tender care so there was nothing to frown about

✧ Umemiya adored the serious look on your face when you carefully cleaned all cuts before icing every single bruise

✧ “You need to be more careful, Hajime” you scold him in a soft tone, straddling his lap to patch up his face properly

✧ “I am being careful… but even if they land a punch, I know you're here to kiss it better” he mused, trying to kiss you but you stopped him

✧ You simply shook your head and denied him the kisses “I won't kiss anything better if you're reckless, Haji” you muse but kiss his bruised cheekbone with such care it made his stomach flip

✧ Feeling your lips against his skin, no matter how bruised and battered, made everything hurt less - he even swore that everything healed faster thanks to your kisses

✧ It's a good excuse to get more of them but you play along, wanting to pamper him to your best abilities

✧ When it was time to apply a bandaid you purposely took one for the younger ones, little stars on a blue bandaid now adorning the bridge of his nose

✧ Umemiya looked absolutely adorable like this when he smiled brightly and he knew damn well that no one would make fun of him like that

✧ The last guy who made fun of his cute bandaids wore a hello kitty bandaid on his broken nose for weeks - both a reminder by yours truly

✧ If getting beaten up means having you sit on his lap and tending to every bruise and cut, Umemiya almost liked getting into fights and perhaps he let his opponent land one more punch than necessary to his lip just so you can coo over and lecture him

[nnight-dances]

BABYDOLL

PAIRING: choi seungcheol x afab!reader

GENRE: fluff, angst, suggestive (nothing explicit)

TROPES: gym trainer!cheol, office worker!reader, you have INFJ syndrome until you start thirsting for cheol, mutual pining and perversion, wonwoo and lisa besties to lover side plot

LISTEN TO: babydoll by dominic fike

NOTE: unfortunately yes this is based on a brainrot ive been harboring for a real man but since cheol > all other men so here is my way of coping with it! i hope u like it and lmk what u think <3

You liked to think of yourself as a sane person. If anything, you had always had a reputation of having a good head on your shoulders, as the eldest daughter and the ideal student in class. You lived a life of discipline even out of college, waking up early to clean your apartment before you headed out to work and coming back late to a fridge full of meal-prepped tupperwares. 

You're sane. So why is it that you can't bring yourself to behave like it around him?

For some context, you had decided your daily 15-minute walk to your apartment from the subway wasn't cutting it anymore. More than anything, you feel like you needed something more intense for the sake of your stiff body. You'd come home feeling creaky as floorboards and without a concrete plan to keep you in shape, you would end up doing some lousy stretching before hitting the sack.

But today that was going to change. You had enrolled as a member in the nearby gym, a solid place from the looks of it. It was your first time in a gym this fancy, equipped with the best of any machine you could imagine but also an ambient changing room where you looked forward to showering in.

You had come in fully prepared, clad in a workout set that was your favorite shade of green. When you'd pulled it out of your closet after all this time, you felt like the inanimate fabric might actually be thanking you for remembering its existence. You had an adequately sized water bottle that you had set to the side when you'd started your cardio for the day, waiting for the personal trainer the lady at the reception had told you would come meet you in 15.

At exactly the 15 minute mark on your treadmill, you'd felt a presence next to you and to your surprise, it was a man wearing the black shirt everyone working in the gym wore with a little crest on the chest. But this man was particularly… built. You didn't like to be indecent about another person when he had yet to introduce himself but the man before you was right out of your dreams– his shoulders wide, that his shirt did little to hide, and his buff arms that he politely crossed waiting for you to notice him.

You pop the earbud in your left ear out, rushing to turn the treadmill off as you turn to greet him. "Oh, I'm sorry– I didn't see you there– Wait, how did this thing stop–"

"Let me get that for you," the man – the dangerously attractive man – leaned over to press a red button that you should've spotted sooner than you did. The treadmill comes to a stop gradually and you try to think of the different ways you could vanish into thin air.

But then the trainer smiles at your panic-sriken experession revealing his dimples and you think you might faint before you'd had a chance to exercise. "Hi, I'm Seungcheol," he holds out his hand to you when you manage to step off the machine in one piece. "But you can call me Cheol." He points to the name-tag on his shirt– another detail you had missed when you were far too busy being a pervert over the general amazing-ness of his build. The name-tag says cheol in lowercase with a few hand-drawn cherries next to it. 

"I'm Y/N," you say quietly, shaking his hand. "Sorry about that, by the way. I promise I'm not usually such a klutz. It's just my first time here so I'm kinda nervous."

Cheol simply blinks at you, "Nothing wrong with being a klutz. That's why I'm here. And as for being nervous…" He looks around at the rows of people on treadmills and various other cardio machines and shrugs. "You'll get a hang of it. Just follow me."

You don't have time to stand around gaping at Cheol's words so you do as he says, especially because you would rather die than have him think you're clumsy. But despite your effort to look put-together, you find your control slipping on the first machine he brings you to. It looks like it should be simple enough, a seat with handles for back-rows. Yet, when you sit on it, you can't seem to find the right position to start and when you do, it all feels wrong.

Then, Cheol comes up behind, a hand on your lower back pushing your spine up straight. His voice is gentle in your ear and you meet his eye in the mirror in front of you. "Hold still for me. Throw your shoulders back and focus on pulling with your back." 

You do as he says and he gives you a nod of approval. "Remember to breathe," he says, his fingers now on your shoulders, pulling them back to keep them in the right posture. When you're done with the first set, you feel like you've forgotten how to breathe.

"You must be an office-worker," Cheol comments as he lets you take a minute to breathe. 

"You say that like it's a bad thing," you frown.

"It's not the best thing for a person's spine. Makes for a stiff spine and whatnot."

You grimace when his words seem to describe you. "You're right. I can't sit with my spine straight for the life of me. Those back-rows almost sucked the life out of me."

"Then I hope you're ready for two more sets," Cheol chuckles, politely grabbing your precious water bottle out of your hands. "Two more sets," you repeat after him, praying that he actually meant no more sets and said the wrong thing. But he stares at you in the mirror, arms crossed, waiting for you to take your position.

By the time, you're done for the day, you think you might have seen God, with the way Cheol pushes you through the workout, throwing sets of shoulder presses and plank holds at you. He must hate you, you think, wiping the sweat off your neck with a hand towel as you watch him write something down on a notepad you only just noticed. You've been really out of it today, huh?

Still, Cheol's disdain for you aside, you couldn't help but marvel at him. His body was so lithe, lifting weights off the floor for you without a huff and demonstrating the exercises you had to do while narrating the movements like it was nothing. What's more, he had this amazing air of authority about him, not letting you give up on an exercise just because you felt like you couldn't do it. If the last set got physically impossible for you, he'd give you a hand but he didn't let you do anything half-earnestly. In short, he's really fucking cool.

You come to your senses when Cheol says, "All right, that's all for today. Thanks for the hard work." You nod, "Thanks, Cheol." You don't have it in you to say anything about the workout, mainly because you're embarrased at how weak you are so you simply smile an awkward smile and leave the room. 

God knows you were the worst version of yourself in there, the complete opposite of the composed woman you were on the outside. It was mortifying, honestly, to be that helpless and in front of a man you were attracted – that might have been your greatest nightmare realized into reality. 

Which is why you find yourself at the gym a day later, taking a deep breath before greeting the lady. "Hey, I'm here for my PT session," you start and then clearing your throat, you add, "With trainer Cheol?"

The lady looks surprised when she sees you for a split second but then she grins. "Of course, miss L/N. You're just on time." She types rapidly for another second before nodding at you, "Okay, you can start your 15 minutes of cardio and the trainer will meet you there."

You thank her before heading in, finding it a little strange that she looked surprised to see you but shrugging it off when you're welcomed by the lavender-scented changing room. You note to yourself to start buying more scented candles for your house as you place your bag and hoodie in a locker, taking just your bottle out. 

You're a minute from finishing your cardio for the day when you hear your name being called. You turn to find Cheol staring at you with an indecipherable glint in his eyes. His arms are crossed, almost like a signature pose on a game character, muscles glistening under the bright gym lights. You stop the treadmill successfully this time as you wave at him, "Hey!"

"...You're back?"

You frown when you hear the question in his voice, "Yeah? Is that not what I'm supposed to do?"

"I mean…"

"I didn't come in yesterday because I woke up feeling like someone beat me up," you add with a pointed look, "But I think you'll forgive me if your customer retention is that low."

Cheol blinks with a smile gradually consuming his expression. "It's not that– I just didn't expect you to come back because you looked mad when you left last time. And well, office-workers are usually inconsistent so I definitely didn't think I'd see you twice in the same week…"

You cross your arms to match his pose, "I wasn't mad, I was a breath away from dropping dead."

"Right, that makes sense," Cheol agrees proudly and you shake your head, "And you must have a grudge against office-workers."

"I don't. All my friends are office-workers. I've just watched the job suck out all the life out of them so I'm not a fan."

"I think you may have defined the word grudge just now," you point out with a poorly disguised laugh.

Cheol pauses before looking you up and down with a cocked brow. "Someone's in a feisty mood today. I like that, it means you're ready for leg day."

You were not ready for leg day. You used to think that your legs would be strong enough since you'd done your share of squatting and running in your lifetime but faced with Cheol's insane workout set-up, you should've seen this coming. It starts off fine– a normal cycle of squats and lunges. But then he adds weights to the equation, increasing it after each set. Then, he takes you to the machines and makes sure you do each rep right. You have a hard time even walking over to the bench where he wants you to hip thrusts. 

For a moment, Cheol's eyes betray softness. "You good? We can stop here if you want."

But for all your groaning and heaving, you weren't quite ready to give up yet, the adrenaline doing wonders to your head. "I can stop when I'm dead. Just tell me what to do next."

Cheol perks up at your challenge, "Okay, soldier, calm your horses. We'll do some hip thrusts now but let's start slow."

"You don't have to take it easy on me," you add, taking the barbell from his hands. He smiles, "Don't worry about that, I'm just getting started." You swallow the viscerality of the reaction that rises at his words and force yourself to get into the right position. Cheol must know what he's doing, towering over you with that nefarious smirk, monitoring your movements strictly while instructing you how exactly to maintain your form. 

With your eyes fixed on him, you can't help but feel your mind wander, far beyond your control. You can't blame yourself– this angle is sinful. He looks so delectable with his arms crossed across his chest as usual and legs steadily placed close to yours on the ground in case he had to help you out. You wonder what he's like under the trackpants he sports, about his thighs and what they'd feel like under your palm. You wonder what he'd sound like–

You slip mid-rep with your grip on the barbell going loose and you yelp out as the weight bounces dangerously. Cheol's arm flash before you sight, swiftly grabbing the barbell before it hit your shin, throwing it aside with a loud clank. A few people working out near you give you concerned glances but all you can do is heave out a breathe at the sight of Cheol crouched so close to you.

He hauls you with one brawny arm behind your back, holding you close to his face so he could inspect you. "Are you okay?" he asks you gravely, eyes scanning your torso and then going down your legs.

You must be truly sick because even in this situation, you're thrilled. Absolutely thrilled. Because you're so close to Cheol you can feel his breath against your hot neck and you finally have an excuse to paw against his chest, and feel the sinewy warmth under his shirt. 

"I'm fine," you muster, mouth unbelievably dry and Cheol takes the wideness of your gaze to be fear. He rests your body back against the bench and you mourn the loss of his touch silently. But then he presses the back of his hand against your cheek and then pats your head. 

"You're fine," he repeats your words but with more conviction, a reassurance. "You scared the shit out of me." You breathe out a chuckle, "Sorry. You'd get into trouble if I got injured under your watch right?"

Cheol stares at you. "That's what you're worried about? Not that you almost lost a leg and a half just now?"

You look away with a flushed face. "No, I was never worried about that. I knew you'd catch it before anything happened."

"You should be more worried, then," he responds with a shake of his head, "I'm not perfect. I won't make it every single time."

"Sorry," you sigh, "I'll be more careful." You're quick to give in, especially because you could not stand the reason behind this mess. 

You leave after that with Cheol firmly refusing to go on, with something about not taking more chances. You sense something akin to disappointment in his words and feel a pit in your stomach as you head home. You'd started to bond with him finally, with your determination to show up, but this felt like it put you back to square one. Cheol, as reliable as he was, seemed reluctant to open up to you and where he'd finally started to warm up to you, your slip-up today probably reminded you that you were a customer who he needed to train.

Your sleep is fitful that night because you can't stop thinking about your accident. Can't stop thinking what might have happened if you didn't mess up. And then you picture Cheol and his watchful gaze over you the whole time you're there. God, you feel crazy. 

–

"What's crazy is that I got a whole box of them for 20 bucks on sale!" Lisa exclaims. You nod at her anecdote about scoring extremely cheap protein powder that slightly concerned you about the quality of the product your co-worker was consuming. Lisa had caught you that afternoon in the lunch room, awkwardly stretching out your legs. When she grilled you about it, you'd revealed your recent gym membership and the consequent soreness.

"I've heard drinking lemon coffee before workouts is really helpful," she adds with an excited grin. Lisa, as it turns out, was a huge gym rat. "And oh, don't ever go to the gym if you haven't slept at least a good 8 hours."

"What?" 

"Yeah, lack of sleep combined with exertion is a nightmare for your body."

You tap your nail on the table nervously, worried that would mean you couldn't go to the gym today. Just then, Wonwoo enters the break room with a knowing chuckle. "What bullshit is Lisa feeding you this time, Y/N?"

"Hey!" Lisa protests, "I'm just sharing my years of advice with her since she just started the gym." Your glares at Lisa go unnoticed as she goes ahead and reveals your newest hobby to the man.

You groan, "You make it sound like such a big deal. It's not, I'm just finding ways to keep myself occupied."

"You must be getting old," Wonwoo says as he slides into a chair next to you. "But if I know anything about the gym, it's that it'll keep you young. Especially with the guys that you'll see there."

You stare at Wonwoo, "What the fuck is wrong with you guys? I can't have one normal conversation around here." The man simply elbows you with a chesire grin, "Oh, come on, Y/N. You're always so proper and put-together, it makes me think you're not even living your life."

You go silent, ears redenning at his words. "Wonwoo, that's a little rude," Lisa accuses him, "Y/N's the coolest member of our team, how could disrespect–"

"I'm not, I just mean that you've achieved most of your goals now," he shrugs, "But you probably have a side that you always keep in check. Maybe you should let go a little?"

– 

For all your attempts at ignoring Wonwoo's unsolicited advice, you end up thinking about it the whole day. And the next, when you make your way back to the gym. You're a little reluctant to, given you were still embarrassed about your incident last time. But stupid Wonwoo and his way with words. 

You found yourself overthinking your outfit for the day, ending up wearing a baby blue sports bra with a strappy back and black sweatpants. You had to admit that it was quite flattering on your figure, with your back tattoo on display, one that said babydoll in a cursive font, a reference to one of your favorite songs and just generally, a cheeky nudge to whoever was reading in the direction of your preferences. 

Today, you spot Cheol across the cardio room but with another client, a tall blonde woman who was jogging leisurely at a speed that would have you gasping for breath. She looked like she was in great shape, a flat stomach revealed by her cropped bra and an ass for days that her shorts accentuated. Cheol looked so different than when he was with you, eyes smiling as he continuously hyped the girl up, a proud beam on his face. You don't think you'd even seen all his teeth on display before. 

You force yourself to take a treadmill where you can't see him, turning the music on your earbuds all the way up to get your head straight. But every song you listen to reminds you of him. You ignore it anyway, increasing the speed on your treadmill when you catch a glimpse of him escorting the lady out. He really looked like he was enjoying himself, laughing loudly at something she says in a soft voice. She was in a league of her own. Heck, so was Cheol.

The reminder is unpleasant and you have a hard time putting on a smile when Cheol comes to stand at your side with an expectant grin. But in comparison to before, this grin seems dull and his eyes look like they're calculating something, not delighted. You had a feeling this was going to be another difficult session for you.

"That's a nice outfit," he comments when you turn around to him, covered in sweat from your jealousy-driven run. You don't respond to his compliment, feeling like it was empty and honestly, losing your will to please him after what you'd witnessed. You get off the treadmill with a sigh and roll your shoulders back, "What am I doing today?"

Cheol hesitates for a split second at your curtness but moves on quickly, guiding you to the dumbbells. "Arms and back for the lady today," he announces grandly, handing you two dumbbells labelled 10 lbs. You raise your brows at him, wondering if his decision had anything to do with your exceptionally bare back. Reigning in your curiosity, you do as he says.

The first few sets of various basic exercises go by well, so much so that you catch Cheol mumbling a good job in your ear when you pass him the dumbbells. The compliment goes straight to your head – and well, elsewhere – but you control your thoughts, not when you were finally feeling like yourself and not like a perverted idiot lusting over your hot hym trainer.

But then you're at the back-row machine and you lose your drive, glancing uneasily at Cheol. He simply gestures for you to get started. "You know the drill" are his brief words of explanation. 

The first set goes by okay with you struggling to finish the last rep but by the time you're in the middle of the second set, you feel a numbing strain in your back, making it a Herculean task to even tug at the handles. You spot Cheol walking over behind you and the pads of his fingers press into your back, somehow landing exactly where the fabric of your bra left you exposed.

Your eyes jump to his in the mirror, the contact sending a wave of heat to all kinds of places and feeling incredibly inappropriate for some reason. Cheol's eyes remain unyielding when you meet them though, his grip extending to your shoulder to pull them back. "Come on," his words splay out like breath on your neck, "Keep going."

You manage the last few reps with his help, groaning in pain when he finally lets you go. He pulls away as soon as you're done, sqaushing any hopes that you had of him sharing the vibe that you had felt. He even takes a large step away to give you air before the next round. You pout as you closely observe him in the mirror, wondering why he was so cold to you. He had seemed warmer a few days ago when you'd shown up to contradict his expectation, maybe even warmer than he had been with that lady earlier. So how come he's back to being distant now?

"Something on your mind?" Cheol asks, coming to your side, "You've been glaring at me for the past minute."

"Nothing."

"Really? You've been weird this whole time you know," he presses. "It's my duty to make sure you're satisfied as my client. So if I'm doing anything wrong…"

You sigh at his words. Satisfied, huh? If Cheol had even the slightest hint to your thoughts every time you were close to him– God, he'd probably drop you as a client altogether. "I'm fine," you say quietly, looking down at your hands instead of at him. You were doing so well at keeping it together and you didn't want to lose your progress to some whim. "Just tired from work."

"Have you been sleeping okay?"

"As okay as I can."

"Have you considered asking for a day off?"

You scoff, "I'm not on my death bed. A few hours of lost sleep won't kill me."

"It will in the long run," Cheol retorts, lips set in a thin line, "And that's the second time you've talked about dying before giving up with me."

You're starting to wish he would stop with his questions. "I'm not suicidal, Cheol," you start, "And I'm not losing sleep because of work anyway."

"Oh, really? What is then? A guy?"

You scowl at his words, "I'd rather not talk about this anymore. It's not funny."

"Didn't say it was," he mumbles but returns to his stance behind you. You feel his palm on your back again, "Let's go for the last set, then."

You pull hard, getting in a few good reps before your back muscles start to give up again. Cheol's in action, forcing your muscles to stay engaged as you continue pulling him. "Breathe for me, doll, you're doing so well. Just five more reps." Forget the fact that you'd done your required 20 reps of the back rows, when you hear Cheol's praise you feel your energy spike up, somehow pulling off 5 more reps. 

He lets go with a chuckle, "I knew you had it in you." You slump over, dropping your head in your hands, reeling. Did you hear him right? Doll? Your stomach turns with butterflies, the thought of him using your tattoo exactly in the way you'd intended – fuck, you think you could give the man the best head of his life right now if he let you.

But instead you pretend to be wiped out as you stand up without making any eye contact with him, crouching over your water bottle and taking a few sips. You realized that Cheol was being himself with you, now that you think about it, his sarcastic jabs and his cynical questioning. He was worried about you but didn't want to burden you with it. But to think that you'd managed to get him to praise you despite his aloofness, it made you want to do unthinkable things.

"All right, let's do some shoulder presses next," Cheol says, deciding you'd had enough of a break. You silently nod, following him to the bench. Surprisingly enough, you make it through the rest of the workout without a hitch, even earning yourself an approving hoot from Cheol along the way.

"You're on fire today, aren't you?" he beams and you want to imprint the sight in your mind. "Come on, I'll have do some good stretching today so you won't wake up feeling like someone beat you up again."

You chuckle at the reference to your earlier comment and gladly follow him to the mats where he guides you through some stretches. Then he perches himself in front of you, holding out his hands. "Give me your hands."

You look at him questioningly and he simply waits. Slowly, you put your hands in his, noticing the way his wrap around yours completely. He's big compared to you, easily pulling you toward him while keeping his feet planted above your knees so you could stretch your spine out. You let out a moan at the feeling in your spine, "That feels good."

His hand wrap around your wrist next, resting them on his shoulders– and you swear to God, he's got to be doing this to you on purpose. All you can think about is his skin under your palms, the hard shoulders that you didn't imagine you'd be touching. He continues to mess with you; his hands are on your shins, massaging their way up your legs– your calves, your knees, your thighs. 

You pull away with abruptly and his hands dance back down your legs. Cheol's looking up at you with hooded eyes, as if he can read every thought that's running through your head. "Good?" he asks and the vague nature of the question does nothing to help your situation.

You clear your throat, "Yes. Am I done for the day?" 

Cheol makes you suffer through some more stretches, ones where he finds an excuse to get his hands on you– an arm stretch with him pulling you from one side or a back stretch where he crossed your arms down firmly. Your head was all but spinning when you're finally done.

"Okay, you're done. Thanks for the session," he exclaims and as you turn to leave, he stops you with a hand on your elbow. "Oh and– Listen, I don't know what's on your mind but don't worry so much. You're doing great, at least in the gym. Sleep well tonight, doll."

– 

The only explanation for Cheol's behavior was that he hated you. Because why else would he enjoy torturing you like this? You had never thought you showing up mad to a session would lead to him doing all that– calling you doll of all things. You had all sorts of thoughts in your head right now and none of them you could voice out loud without embarrassing yourself. 

That night, you do sleep well, a little too well even. You have sweet dreams after all, dreaming of Cheol in your bed, climbing up your relaxed figure while his hands trailed up your legs, not stopping at your thighs. They make it all the way and the sound that leaves you is undignified but Cheol meets your mouth like he predicted your reaction. His touch burns you and his tongue leaves you feeling like you were starving. You sweat in his arms, his words sending you over the edge in no time.

You wake up the next morning to a mess in your panties, the sight leaving you truly dumbfounded. If you had thought you had come close to regaining your sanity in the last few days, you might just have lost any such hope. You rush to shower, making it cold on purpose so you could cleanse any dirty thoughts away with the remains of last night.

But Cheol's hold on you is strong, even when he isn't forcing you to go through the last few reps of an exercise. You enter the office in a daze that day, going about your daily tasks without a real thought behind your eyes. 

It's only when you overhear a conversation in the break room that you come to your senses.

"I'm thinking of changing my hair," Kazuha tells Katie with a thoughtful hum, "But I don't know what to do." You gaze at the younger girls in front of you. Kazuha had long hair the shade of mocha and Katie sported a short blonde bob that bounced when she peeked over her friend's shoulder to look at her phone.

"Oh, you know what you would suit? Blonde streaks!"

"Really?" Kazuha sounds dubious, "I don't know. I'm more of a dark hair girl."

"I know, that's why I said streaks, stupid," Katie pulls out her phone and scrolls through something that looks like an album of hair pictures. "Something like this– Just your bangs, or the ends of your hair."

Intrigued by the conversation, you approach the pair. "Hey, guys," you let yourself known and the two nod quickly when they see you.

"Oh, hi, Y/N!"

"Sorry to interrupt, but I… I had a question."

Katie looks excited, leaning forward with a sneaky grin. "Sure! What is it? Are you seeing someone?"

"What? No, that's not it," you protest, uneasily playing with your mug. "Um, actually, I was… this is a completely hypothetical question, okay?" The two nod eagerly. "If I was to know a guy who was a gym rat of sorts… What kinds of things would you say might interest him?"

"Interest him?" Kazuha says, "Aren't gym rats only into other gym rats?"

"Yeah, I think so, too," Katie echoes, "When you live for the gym, you'd only want a partner who understands the lifestyle. But I did have this friend…"

She trails off and you prod, "A friend?"

"Well, she had a crush on this guy at her gym so she tried to get his number and he–" she cuts herself off with a light laugh, "He said she was too plain. God, he was an asshole. My friend had the latest hairstyle and everything. She cried over him for a week. I told her not to spend so much money on the membership if she was just going there for a guy…"

You nod, "Right… That sounds awful." Eventually, Kazuha and Katie go back to discussing something on their phones and you excuse yourself. 

–

You don't go to the gym for the rest of that week, mainly because you're afraid to see Cheol, still not over the wet dream you'd had of him. Thankfully, there hadn't been any more but just the one occurence had you feeling like you'd committed a crime so you stayed away to keep your conscience clean. 

A week later, you finally force yourself out of your guilty spiral and head to the gym. At the reception, you pause before heading in for cardio. "Hey, Seol," you call out and she looks up from the computer. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"No, please, ask away."

"Is… Does Cheol have a lot of clients?"

Seol looks amused at your question and takes her time riling you up before saying, "Yes, ma'am. He's one of the top trainers in our gym. Sometimes, we have clients asking to switch over to be trained by him because they see him training other people."

"Ah, I see," you say, keeping your tone as flat as possible, "And can I ask how I ended up with him?"

"Oh, well, it was just good timing," Seol says with a polite smile, "He had a client leave after she got promoted at work so you joining worked perfectly."

You nod at her response, thanking her as you head in. So it was just luck. 

You don't know what you had expected– Of course, Cheol was popular. You weren't the only one with eyes around here and looks aside, he was genuinely great at his job. You didn't take that for granted but it didn't help the pit in your stomach, when you realized you were just a replacement client on his roster. 

Great. You've been in the gym for less than 10 minutes and the crazies have already started. 

To make things even worse, you see Cheol next to another woman yet again. This time she's short, a petite figure with long wavy hair and you almost laugh out loud at the situation. Someone must be playing a sick joke on you because how else was every single one of his clients so much prettier than you? 

You have to restrain your thoughts before they dig you any deeper in a hole of self-depreciation so you pick out a treadmill away from them. 

"Evening, doll," Cheol pipes up next to you, voice cheery as he pats your arm. You contain yourself as you stop your jog and get off. "Do you have to call me that?" you throw, giving him your best icy stare.

He simply grins, "What? Doll? But it's a cute name."

"I already have a name," you cut in, "And someone might get the wrong idea if they heard you."

Cheol regards you with a glint in his eye. What you would do to hear his thoughts. "There's nothing to get wrong," he finally says, "So don't worry."

If anything, his words are a harsh slap of reality. It brings you back to earth effectively so maybe you ought to thank him for it. You make it through that workout without an indecent though– well, okay, there might have been a few but nothing that was enough to put you in a life-threatening position. In fact, you make it through a whole week's worth of sessions with those words.

It's Friday when it all goes down the drain– your hard work at regaining normality with Cheol and your sanity. You're done for the day and in the middle of packing up, when you see Cheol being approached by a woman. Looking up, you realize it's the tall blonde from a few weeks ago. She speaks quickly and quietly but you hear the words drinks on me tonight. 

Your stomach churns and you look away without thinking, hoping to run away before you had to hear any more. But Cheol's voice is clear when he responds, "Sorry, I can't. I'm busy tonight."

You hate the way you're relieved at his rejection, the lack of any remorse in his tone and the way he quickly turns back to you. The blonde woman looks dejected and blinks at his back a few times before leaving. 

"Wow," you comment when she's gone, "That was cold."

"You think so?" he asks as if it wasn't clear as day. "I was just making myself clear."

"So you have a no-client dating policy?"

"Nah, not really," Cheol shrugs as he rolls up the mat you had used a few minutes ago. "Plus, she's not even my client anymore."

"Oh," you breathe and then feel a sudden burst of courage run through your veins. "So if I was to ask you out…"

Cheol tilts his head, lips lilting, "What about you asking me out?"

Asshole, of course he's making you spell it out for him. You bite back a smile, "Nothing. Just a thought." With that, you leave him hanging, exiting the gym as if you hadn't proposed to take him out on a date without any real conclusion. 

It was complicated, you explain to yourself later. For one, you didn't even think he was into you like that. Sure, he could be touchy and flirty around you when he wanted you, and yeah, maybe he didn't call you anything other than doll, but in real terms, those actions had no meaning behind them. They were just that. 

And you didn't enjoy putting yourself out like that– asking someone else out. It had always been the other way around, the guys asking you out after days of you charming them. And where you'd always been anything but yourself with Cheol, you weren't ready to let go of your reputation just yet. 

– 

Maintaining your reputation takes on a questionable turn that weekend when you pass a hair salon on your way home from shopping for some much-needed home supplies. You stop because the sign outside catches your eye. In flashy bubble letters, it reads GYU'S SALON: come by if you want to rediscover your wild side. You find yourself smiling, hand on the door before you have a second to debate it. 

Someone at the counter welcomes you and asks you to wait for a moment while they grab a stylist. You take a seat on the couch and look inside the salon. It's not too packed but there's a few customers, most of them women. You see that most of them are young and the observation comforts you. In particular, you notice a girl taking selfies with her new styled hair– a short layered look with blue ends. It looked cool but too bright for you to pull off. 

A kind-looking lady with hair the color of plum approaches you. "Hello, are you here for a hair styling session?" 

You stand up, "Ah, yeah, I am. Sorry, I don't have an appointment."

"That's fine, I'm free now," she says with a smile, "You must've seen the sign." You don't how she knows but you simply smile back at her. She nods, "Okay, come with me." 

The lady's named April, you find out, and she's the funniest person you've met in a while. She's also an expert in hair, it seems, because she can tell the last time you cut your hair was neary two years ago and even points out that you wash your hair every other day. Eventually, you tell her you want to do something different with your hair but nothing too crazy.

"Define crazy."

"Well, this is my first time dying my hair. But I don't want anything too light and please don't cut my hair too short."

"Gosh, you sure have a lot of demands." Then after a moment of running her hands through your hair, playing with its strands, she comes to a decision. "All right, missy, I have something in mind for you."

Two hours later,  you have red hair but not too red. It was the exact shade of wine under the salon lights but when you stepped out of the salon, it was more a dark brown. You'd thanked and tipped April generously for her work because she had come through on her word. In the mirror back at home, you admired your hair. April had trimmed off the ends but made sure your hair retained its length. You didn't regret your decision when you had a whole night to overthink it, thrilled whenever you caught sight of your head in a reflective surface. April might have been God's sweet gift to you. 

– 

That week you're showered in compliments at work with a coworker stopping at your desk every time they realized it was you sitting there typing away in red hair. You'd been somewhat worried that the change wasn't drastic enough for many to notice but you're proven wrong. Kazuha is the first one you run into that day, meeting her in the elevator and it takes her a glance to notice the new hair.

"Y/N? Your hair is so pretty!" she's spinning you around so she can get a better look, "Oh my God, where'd you get it done? It's amazing."  You thank her and vaguely describe the salon you'd found by chance. 

Later that evening, you walk unusually slow to the gym, taking your time to dwell on the response you might get from Cheol. You're close to the entrance when you see a familiar figure a few feet away. Before you can confirm your suspicion, you also spot an unmissable head of blonde hair.

It's her again. You feel your heart lurch in your chest as you unwittingly stop in your tracks. She's talking to Cheol, her back to you. If it wasn't for the expression on Cheol's face being a clear one of panic, you might have walked your way without a worry (other than the ones that would've spurred out of jealousy). You aproach them cautiously, wanting to get a better understanding of the situation before interfering.

"...is just mean. You led me on! You told me I was–"

"I'm sorry, Haein, if you feel that way but that's just part of my job," Cheol's voice is strained with suppressed emotions and you speed up, "I need you to stop cornering me–"

"Cheol!" you call out loudly, causing both of them to turn towards you. The blonde, Haein apparently, looks annoyed to find you there and you quietly walk over to Cheol's side. He's quiet when you poke him with your elbow. "What're you doing out here? You're gonna be late to my session!"

"Excuse me, miss, but I was in the middle of–"

"I'm sorry but I pay this guy an unbelievable amount of money to train me," you say in your most obsequious voice, "and I work really hard for the money I make. So unless you're about to pay me more than I pay him just to talk to him, why don't we call it a day here?"

When Haein storms off with a few unintelligible curses your way, you let out a laugh of disbelief. Cheol releases a chuckle from beside you, sighing in relief. "That was–" he starts, "Thanks, Y/N. You saved my ass."

"No worries," you reply, "but I wasn't entirely kidding about what I said. You start showing up late to our sessions and I'll start cutting the paycheck."

"You realize that's not how it works, right? You have to pay the same amount of–"

"I don't care how it works, Cheol," you interrupt him.

"For what it's worth," you hear him say as the two you finally enter the gym through its glass doors. "You were pretty cool back there. I felt so safe and protected with you throwing so many big words at her."

You turn to him with a frown, "Big words? I just talked really fast so she couldn't afford to call my bluff."

Cheol laughs at your confession, "It worked. She looked spooked when she finally ran off."

"So she's been bothering you even after you rejected her?"

"Yeah, looks like she thought we had a thing," he mumbles, "but all I did was my job and there's no nicer way to put it."

You grimace, waving at Seol who perks up at the sight of you arriving with Cheol. "That's tough. You should do something about it. I won't always be around to save the day, you know?"

"You're right," Cheol teases, "I need to become independent."

You pause in front of the changing room, "Okay, I'll go put my things away–"

Cheol breaks you off when he takes a step too close to you, voice dropping to a whisper. "Your hair's cute, doll. I'm a lucky man to have a pretty girl like you worry about me."

And then, he's gone with a flash of his smirk. As if he hadn't just left your veins blazing with the rush his words had caused. You drop to your knees inside the changing room, legs weaker than a day of working them out under Cheol's supervision. There's just no way he isn't messing with you on purpose, right?

But then you recall his words from earlier– all I did was my job and there's no nicer way to put it – and you're not so sure anymore. On the one hand, it was objectively not part of his job to call you doll or to have his hands wander your body or to constantly pester you with questions when you seemed out of it or to call you pretty. But at the same time, you couldn't say it was just him being nice to you, making sure you didn't feel unseen. 

Your worries find an answer later that day when you're leaving the changing room after another training session. Cheol intercepts you with a look that you've never seen before– uncertainty.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Yeah, sure, what's up?" you let him pull you aside to a more secluded area behind the reception.

"I know you're too humble to take it seriously but I really do owe you one for earlier," Cheol rubs the back of his neck, a boyish grin on his face, "If you hadn't sepped in, I might have had to agree to go out with her."

"Cheol," you sigh, "I just did that because you looked uncomfortable. You don't have to thank–"

"Thanking you isn't enough," he stresses, "I want to repay you."

You cross your arms, the phrasing of his request piquing your curiosity. "And how exactly do you want to repay me?"

"Let me take you out for dinner."

You hate the way your eyes betray surprise at his words, his pleased smile only doing wonders to the adrenaline rush that slapped you. "What?"

"I know a good place near here but it'll be packed today," Cheol pulls out his phone out of his pants, "But if I make a reservation, we'll be able to get in this week."

"I…"

"Is that a yes?" his eyes are focused on yours, waiting for an answer.

"Sure, but is it okay for us to…?" you find yourself unable to complete your question. "Why wouldn't it be?" Cheol tilts his head, "We're both adults and it's consensual."

"I guess you're right," you admit. Cheol places his phone in front of you, "Your number, doll."

– 

If you had thought you were insane a few weeks ago, now you were convinced that you were. Ever since you'd exchanged numbers with Cheol, all you could do was stare at his contact. You'd gone simple, just saving him as Cheol, not before you considered adding a cherry emoji next to his name. It was too much, you decided, settling for the plain name instead.

"Whose murder is she planning this time?" 

Wonwoo's question brings you out of your daze and you glare at him. "Yours if you don't shut the fuck up."

"Woah," Wonwoo holds up his hands in surrender, glancing at Lisa, "You sure she isn't up to something?"

"She's got a date tonight," Lisa reveals without a hint of hestitation in her voice. You kick the girl under the table, "Lisa! You're just gonna sell me out like that?"

"Sorry, Y/N, but I have a 100% honesty policy with Woo," she sighs, looking at Wonwoo dreamily. Right, you had almost forgotten. After months of pining for each other, the two had finally confessed to each other, becoming the office's newest couple. It was very sweet and also very inconvenient when you wanted to confide in your best friend.

"Remind me to get a new and single best friend," you murmur to yourself. Wonwoo drags a chair across from you, "So who's the lucky guy?"

"There is no guy. Just a funeral. For you."

"You're so funny today, Y/N," Wonwoo has the audacity to laugh, "Is it someone from your gym? No wonder you've been looking leaner these days. A little extra motivation to hit the gym can go a long way."

"I don't know why I bother hiding things anymore," you cave, "and for the record, it's not because of any guy that I'm getting fitter."

You find yourself doubting your own words that night when you're sitting across from the man, keeling over in laughter at something he said about the menu in this place. It's a unique restaurant with moody lighting and square tables for two scattered across the wooden floors. Most of the tables were already filled with couples, peering over a menu together and sharing a glass of wine. 

It's unnervingly romantic, you realize as you sit, tucking the tail of your dress under you. Cheol's eyes never leave you, weighing your reactions to the place. "It's so quiet here," you whisper, still surveying your surroundings, feeling hot under his undivided attention. You hadn't been prepared to be this close. Sure, you had been closer to him in the gym but this was your first time with him in a place outside of the gym, where you couldn't pretend your feelings for him were part of an alter ego you'd made up. 

Cheol is real right now, his knees brushing against your bares ones under the table. He looks different tonight, clad in a nice navy shirt whose buttons were unsuprisingly strained against his chest. It was unfair how attractive he looked in a plain outfit. 

"You like wine?" 

You look at him with a start and nod quickly, "Yeah, I do."

"And what about me?" Cheol sneaks the question in, teeth baring as he grins at your panicked expression. "I'm just kidding. Sorry, I can't help it. You're cute when you're embarrassed."

"And you're just as much of an asshole when you're not in the gym."

He shrug, defined collarbone peeking out at you at the movement. "I'm always myself," he tells you. 

The night progresses slowly with Cheol taking his time getting to know you, raining you in question after question about your life– when did you start working? Did you have siblings? Why did you move to the city so young? How many exes did you have? What was your favorite kind of coffee?

"You have a dog?" you exclaim when he shows you a photo of a white Maltese with a doting smile on his face. You hit his arm across the table, "Why wasn't that the first thing you told me?"

Cheol laughs with his head thrown back, "Really? That's what gets you? My dog? I'd take you to meet her but she's living with my brother because I got too busy."

"She's so cute, Cheol! I didn't think you of all people would have a dog."

"What do you mean, me of all people?"

You pause before thinking over your words. "You seem… distant. I thought you would like living alone so nobody bothers you."

Cheol sighs at your words, "What have I done for you to have such an impression of me?"

"I don't know, something about the way you're always cynical? Or your general condescending tone? Or that one time when you told me you hated your friends for being office-workers?"

"Okay, so you clearly like exaggerating things," he protests, "I love my friends, I just wish they lived more. And I'm not cynical, just…"

"Realistic?" you finish his sentence, "Trust me, that's what I tell people, too. But it's all a lie."

"You have a lot to say for someone who actually lives all by herself," Cheol accuses you with a sip of his wine, eyes narrowing, "And I feel like you're way colder than I am. It took me a week to get you to start calling me by my name and not just wait for me to look at you when you needed something."

You groan, "Can you not bring that up? I'm still embarrassed about that."

"Cute," he chirps, "But seriously, you're kinda scary when you're in your head. I get the chills when I imagine what you must be like at work."

"You imagine what I'm like at work?" you tease him, leaning back in your chair. 

"You're the one who's telling me you're not like this at work," he points out, "Whatever that means."

"It means I'm cool as a cucumber," you finally say, "I'm a little scary but only to people who deserve it. But I'm mostly just cool. Or at least I was."

Cheol waits for you to go on and you scrape at your empty plate with a fork, missing the pasta you had just devoured just so you could distract yourself. "I was cool before I… met you, I guess."

"Really?" Cheol does nothing to hide the glad grin that breaks out on his face, "What did I do?"

"Pushed me to my limit," you roll your eyes, "You forced me out of my comfort zone."

"So in other words, I bring out your wild side?"

You flush at his choice of words, "Well, I don't know if I'd say that but… maybe."

–

Your date with Cheol is a dream; he pays for the meal, walks you out with a hand on your waist. He even kisses you goodnight, a kiss that's on your mind for the longest time. His lips are beyond your dreams, plump and demanding on yours. It's too bad neither of you make another move because the night ends at a kiss. 

You can't wait to see him again, but as it turns out the following week means hell for you at work. You're absolutely swamped in your new assignments, with it being the middle of the month. There's increased visits from superiors and your boss insists you attend every meeting, a gesture that promised you that a promotion was in sight. 

It's that hope that keeps you going. You pull a few all-nighters to draft various proposals now that you're your boss' direct right-hand, working earnestly to improve the stellar performance that you were finally getting recognition for. It's on Friday evening that your boss finally notices the bags under your eyes, scolding you for pushing yourself hard. She rushes you out of the office, ordering you to take the day off or she'd force you to. 

You reluctantly do as she says, feeling hollow when you step outside in the fresh air. Your eyes feel heavy and you can't say you feel like doing much. Then, you remember Cheol's touch on your skin and with rejuvenated enthusiasm, you take your phone out. 

You consider texting him but then settle on calling him since he'd be too busy to check his messages. But as it turns out, he's too busy to pick up too. After some thinking, you decide you'd pay him a visit in the gym anyway, ignoring the lightheaded feeling that threatened to consume you. 

Seol greets you at the counter, "Y/N! We missed you this week! Are you okay?"

You sigh, "Yeah, sorry. Work stuff. Is Cheol in?" She nods, much to your relief. "Yeah, he's just finishing up with a client. He should be free for a session in 10."

You thank her as you head in. You knew it wasn't the best idea to work out in this state, but all you could suddenly think about was how Cheol might've taken your absence for the week to be your response to the date. And you hated the thought of that, so you rush to the changing room. 

You're 5 minutes into walking on the treadmill when Cheol's familiar presence makes itself known. "Y/N?"

"Cheol, hey," you say, slowing down, "Sorry I wasn't in this whole week, I've been really busy with work."

"That's fine, I figured it'd be something like that." You're surprised he takes it so well, even offering you a small smile. Then, he notices the way you look, eyebags and all. "Hey, doll, are you okay? You look tired."

"Oh, I'm fine, just a little out of it."

"Okay, why don't you take a rest?" He stops the machine before you have a say, his arm firmly pulling you off. His hand then comes to rest against your cheek and you smile against his touch. "You're warm, doll. I don't think you should be working out today."

"But–"

"I don't want to hear it," he's pulling you out of the cardio room without hearing you out. "Come with me. Is there a friend you can call to pick you up?"

"Um, sure, but I can just go home on my own–"

"Just do as I say if you want to live to see another day– And I swear to god, if you make another joke about death, I'll hurt you myself."

"Ooh," you coo at him as he enters the elevator with you, hitting the 5th floor. "Threatening me now? Is that how you treat a pretty girl?"

Cheol's breath is shaky when he lets out a sigh, averting his gaze. "What about when the pretty girl ghosts me for a whole week?"

"I told you, Cheol, I was busy–"

"I know, I know. I'm just teasing. I was just scared I did something wrong for a second." He doesn't let you say anything when the elevator opens, continuing, "Anyway, you can rest in my office while your friend comes to get you."

"You have an office?"

Cheol laughs at your shocked question, "Yeah, that's what I get for bringing in the most clients here. Anyway, go in and take a seat. I'll get you something to drink." You walk into his office, bewildered by the room. He had a nicer desk than you did and little polaroids decorated the board next to his window. It was a cozier place than you would expected to find in a gym. You sit in a chair, giggling at a photo of Kkuma on the wall, wearing a bow the same shade of pink as her tongue. 

"So adorable," you say under your breath.

"I know I am," Cheol startles you, coming up next you with a bottle of water. 

You elbow him away, starting to feel unusually hot out of the blue. "Sorry, I know it's kinda hot," he apologizes, "I asked them to turn the air up but it takes a while for it to actually work." 

You don't say anything, focused on getting your vision to stop losing focus and the man takes a seat across from, concern painting his face when he catches your dazed look. "Hey, look at me. Take a deep breath for me. What's wrong?"

"Hot," you mumble, pressing a hand against your sweaty forehead. It felt like the short five minute walk was catching up to you all at once, your heart starting to hammer wildly in your chest. You press against it in pain. 

"Doll," Cheol's voice mellows out, his hand taking yours in his. "Drink some water for me." You do as he says, but the water is lukewarm, doing nothing to help. You swallow hard against the dryness in your throat. 

"Okay, that's not going to work," he lets out. And then, his hands are your waist, grabbing the fabric of your shirt, "Y/N, I'm going to take your top off, 'kay?"

Even in your queasy state, you manage to jump at his touch on your bare stomach. "Cheol, I…"

"Trust me, doll," he leans down to meet your eyes. "It'll help." With an obedient hum, you let Cheol take control, him peeling the layer of fabric off your skin. You feel much better almost instantly, the warm air hitting your bare skin. You sigh out as you rest your head in your hands.

"Thanks," you breathe, "I feel like shit."

"That's okay." You look up at him when you catch the hitch in his voice. Through the fuzziness in your vision, you see Cheol avoiding your gaze. You reach for his bicep in your confusion, "Cheol."

He turns to you, eyes wavering as they trail down your neck. You feel heat shoot to your neck at his gaze and he coughs awkwardly. "Sorry," his voice is hoarse, "I'm not looking."

"You can," you state boldly, turning to him. You were wearing an old bra, a plain black thing that had kept you company for decades now, the lace in the back unravelling with wear. But the way Cheol looked at you right now, you could've been wearing the fanciest lingerie in season. 

"Y/N," he warns you. 

You're feeling better by the moment, vision clearing as your body tempertaure returns to normal. But instead of overheating, you find yourself losing focus for a different reason. You shift closer to Cheol, "If you're embarrassed, do something about it."

Your words stun him, his eyes wide as he stares back to make sure you were the one saying them. But all he finds is unbridled lust in your gaze, hand clawing at his knee, begging him to do something, anything that could help your state.

In a flash, Cheol's shirt is off and you drink in the sight before you hungrily. The sight you'd only ever imagined and dreamed about is finally yours to enjoy and you're going to make every moment worth it. When Cheol hears the desperate mewl you let out, he's pulling you close, hands encompassing your waist. You're on his lap before you know, knees hitting the valley of his pelvis. 

"Fuck, you're hotter than I imagined," you groan out, hands roaming his bare back. He bites back an undignified sound at your comment, "Doll, you're making this really hard for me."

You feel his body burning up under yours and you're not sure which one of you is out of breath, but you're panting into his mouth the next thing you know. "This is crazy," he mumbles into you and you can't help but chuckle. "I know," you shoot, thumbs on his cheeks, tracing the skin around his lips. "But I think I went crazy the day I set my eyes on you."

Your shameless admission has Cheol groaning into your skin, his lips attaching to your neck. You feel him bury his face in your hair, inhaling deeply before he finds your face again. "You don't know the kinds of thoughts I've had about you," he laughs, eyes hooded, "I can't even think about you without losing it."

You're about to reveal a part of your suffering when your phone starts ringing. When you see Wonwoo's name on the screen, you jump up with a curse. "Shit, it's Wonwoo."

"Who?"

"He's here to pick you up."

"Why?"

You glare at Cheol, "Because you asked me to ask a friend."

"Right," he says slowly, running a hand through his hair. Even now, all you can think is about the way his stomach contracts with the sharpness of his breath. God, you want him so bad. 

"I'm gonna ask him to come up here but we should probably get dressed–"

"I don't want to."

You stare at Cheol with a dumbfounded expression. "Cheol, we have to." After much convincing, you manage to get Cheol's shirt back on, just in time for the knock that comes on his door. 

"Wonwoo?" you open the door and smile at your friend. Wonwoo looks worried, not returning your greeting. "Y/N, what the fuck is wrong with you? You didn't get the day off so you could come here and–"

Wonwoo's reprimand is cut short when he catches sight of the other man in the room, mouth hanging open. "Oh, this is–" you turn to introduce Cheol but he's already at your side, holding his hand out for Wonwoo. "Seungcheol," his voice has dropped a magical two octaves, eyes cold. 

"I'm Wonwoo, Y/N's friend," Wonwoo says back, shaking his hand uneasily. "Anyway, let's get you out of here–" Wonwoo's hand is on yours to guide you out when Cheol's breaking between you, sticking his arm out in front of you with a frown.

"Cheol, what're you–"

"Sorry, you don't have to bother. I'll take her home."

You gape at his declaration, attempting to shake some sense into him with a harsh Cheol under your breath. But he remains unyielding, staring at Wonwoo to back off. Your friend looks puzzled and you sigh, "Wonwoo, I'll come with–"

But Wonwoo's taking a step back, a playful glint in his eye, "Oh, wait, I just remembered I have a thing to pick up for the boss before I go home. Sorry, Y/N, you'll be fine, right?" He doesn't even bother waiting to hear you confirm your safety before he's rushing down the stairs, not even bothering with the elevator. 

When he's gone, you stare at Cheol's back. "What the fuck was that?"

He turns to you, "We're not done here."

"Really? That's your excuse? I can't believe you made me call Wonwoo all the way out here–"

"That was before you got me all worked up, doll," he snaps, "And to top it all off, you expected me to watch you get escorted out of here by another man? I'm a nice guy but I can't just let him get his hands all over you."

You can't help the laugh that leaves you, "Cheol, are you jealous right now? Wonwoo's a friend and he's–" Before you can tell him that Wonwoo's already dating Lisa, Cheol's lips are on you, shutting you up for good. He pulls away when you're too weak to say anything back. "I'll drive you home, doll, so stop worrying. I'll apologize to your friend if I have to, but let me take care of you tonight."

Cheol's true to his word, watching your every move as he walks you to his car. You wonder for a second if he came from money, to be able to afford such a nice car on a gym trainer's salary and then, lose your train of thought when he leans forward to strap your seatbelt in. Catching the flush on your cheeks, he chuckles softly, "You're too nervous, doll. I'm not going to kill you and bury your body so why don't you relax for me?" 

He turns on the music, soft jazz hitting your ears and easing your nerves. You quietly ask, "Are we going to your place?"

"Since I don't know where you live," he says, "My place it is."

Cheol's a good driver, not to your surprise, with you falling asleep in the passenger seat on the drive to his home. He stirs you awake 20 minutes later, smiling, "We're here."

Your suspicions about Cheol's wealth are confirmed when you set foot in his place, convinced he was sitting on a crazy inheritance to afford the huge apartment where he lived. "My parents divorced when I was young," he explains when he understands your inquisitory looks, "And my mom felt bad about leaving my life so this is her way of saying sorry. Showering me with luxury. It's burdening but I love her too much to say no at this point." 

"Plus," he adds, coming to cup your hand in his, "I get to impress girls with it."

You laugh at his comment, pushing him away, "I'm sure you've have lots of girls over."

"You're the only one that matters," he insists, "At least the only sick one I've brought home just so I can nurse back to health."

He sits you down on his couch, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I'll make you something to eat, okay? Food's the best medicine."

– 

In the following weeks, you come to fall even harder for Cheol because outside the gym, he's a man full of love. He meets you after work every day, leading you to his car so you don't have to take the subway, not paying any mind to your protests. He even holds your hand the whole drive back to either of your places, more often his than yours, because he likes to cook you dinner in his kitchen before he makes love to you in his bed.

It's dizzying, being this in love with a man you've lusted after for so long. The sex is mind-blowing, somehow even better than your dreams. You explore his body every second that you can, lips finding their place on his when you're not busy talking. You kiss his back tattoo and tell how much you love it, tracing the lines of the olive tree until you could draw it in your sleep. He shivers under your touch, his tongue on your own tattoo every time you leave your back exposed around him.

"I tried so hard to keep my hands off you the first time you showed up in that backless bra," he admits one evening, circling your tattoo. "Seeing your tattoo made me feel crazy. I could barely think straight that whole day. All I wanted was to feel every inch of your body."

You bury your head in the pillows beneath you, "I knew it! You did that shit on purpose!" 

"Of course I did," his large hands roll you off your stomach and onto your back so you're making eye contact with him. "You think I call every pretty client of mine doll? You think I feel all of them up and down?"

"I hoped you didn't," you sigh into his mouth when it inevitably descends on yours. 

"You must think I'm a slut if you doubted it for a second," he laughs. You shrug, "You were too hot to not be one."

It's too late to take your words back when Cheol sits up with a pout, "Wow… That's what I get for being into you? You know what–"

"I'm kidding! Cheol, stop, don't go! I was kidding! Hey, come back!"

–

[heartlesscorpse]

Sleepy Cuddles w/ Pyramid Head 🩸🔪 △

Pyramid Head brainrot goes brrr. Pyramid Head brainrot is forever eternal, anyway — yeah I have yet another post of Pyramid Head because I’m bored, my brain had ideas, and I NEED him so I feel like catering myself once again w/ Pyramid Head. That’s all I can say. OH YEAH might I add, rather than Silent Hill’s PH like my last few posts this time I decided this time around I’m gonna do DBD Pyramid Head. Also a heads up for the small nsfw warning in this post, so MDNI.

Doing back to back trials or maybe more is always tiring. Leaves you all sleepy asf, grumpy, and really not wanting to be thrown into another trial for the entity’s amusement.

Usually you’d try sleeping around the campfire or take short naps, literally whenever you have the chance to do so before the entity drags you off to another random map, and it can get pretty annoying when you don’t get no breaks to rest. >:((

And what’s better than looking for none other than your favourite tall killer, the Executioner for some cuddles???

If you need cuddles or sleep, Pyramid Head’s always there in Midwich waiting for you whenever he’s not busy with any trials of his own. :))

He loves earning small visits from you while the both of you have some time to spend when the Entity isn’t calling for either of you for the next trial.

The two of you meet up usually in the halls of the school or some random classroom if Pyramid Head happened to be looking for you first. The nurses office is where the two of you kick back and relax in each other’s company most often, because that’s where all the old mattresses are left on the rusted metal bed frames.

The beds are way too small to fit with Pyramid Head’s large figure so the both of you would settle with stripping off all the mattresses from the bed frames, lie them all on the floor stacked atop each other by 2 by 4 for bigger space.

Cuddles w/ the big guy are the fucking best. And he enjoys cuddling you too.

Because of the huge height differences between the both of you, he thinks you’re the perfect size so he could gently squeeze you in his arms while you’re all curled up with him.

And don’t forget about them man tiddies, his tiddies are the best for a pillow but in the end, you’re waking up with a sore neck. But it’s fucking worth it. >:))

It’s also soothing listening to his breathing from his rusted helmet or the soft growls rumbling from his chest, which kind of reminds you of thunder rolling through the sky in the distance.

As I mentioned the last time in one of my other hc posts with Pyramid Head, he’s a fuckin’ walking heater and all that body heat radiating from him while you’re pressed against him with his arms around you is just pure bliss.

Feels so nice to pass out in his arms especially with all that exhaustion and the multiple trials you went through still racking your brain, and he likes it how easily you conk out the moment you get comfy with him just in a matter of seconds.

On some small occasions there’s times where Pyramid Head is also hornee and wanting help with finding some relief, once granted consent he’ll keep in mind how tired you are after all those trials you went through of course, this time around he’ll restrain himself from going too rough on you and will opt to fucking you gently and at a slower pace. Getting some relief out of this and also helping you destress, a small little reward for doing such a great job. <33

After cuddles and naps with Pyramid Head you’re feeling all rejuvenated and energized to keep pushing on through more trials the entity has yet to throw at you.

Sometimes it’s not enough and Pyramid Head will decide to keep you for a little while longer, drawing the entity’s attention in some instances and having to fight with them in order to prevent the entity from ripping you away from his grip.

Few minutes wasn’t enough he wants more time with his precious. Fuck off. >:((

Besides the exhaustion or stress from everything in the entity’s realm, you still visit Pyramid Head whenever just for more cuddles or naps to give the big guy some company and spend more time with your beloved Executioner.

🥩⋆♱✮♱⋆🔪 🩸

[fauustic]

late night bubble bath

((oh yeah the brainrot has hit HARD!!! IM IN LOVE!!! please send me asks / requests about miguel o’hara i might just melt ...))

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

comfort, fluff. a needy miguel who is just a big kitty.

warnings: mention of wounds, very little blood. taking care of him after a night of insomnia. use of spanish pet names, yet a translator helped me because my spanish isn’t the best. lmk if i missed anything!

word count: 3027

A sigh escapes your lips as you shakily grasp the cup of water along your bedside table. You weren't one to have intense insomnia, yet the anxiety bubbling within your gut served as a painful reminder that you haven't been blessed with a moment of shuteye.

Was it something you had forgotten? You ran through a mental checklist that consisted of taking after Miguel's late nights, and not a single chore was unfinished.

Leftovers for dinner could be found neatly packed away in the place he always checks in the fridge, so there was no need for your love returning from work hungry and tired. Today's laundry was already fluffed and ironed, which will make it easier to begin the upcoming morning. Miguel mentioned off-handedly to you how an important board meeting at his lab had been stressing him out, so you couldn't help but surprise him when he got back home even if it was just prepared outfits.

You leaned back against your pillow before rolling towards Miguel's side of your queen sized bed. You felt so jumpy, your hands itching to do anything. Nights like these you craved Miguel's presence tenfold, as he would be snuggled right in your arms, smoothing the stress out from the tips of your fingers through a careful massage. You could remember the sleepy rambles he'd murmur into the air over the ambience of the television, "Pasar tiempo contigo, brillante. Encantador. Mi pequeño amor. Could bask in your presence always, mi conejito." Miguel would whisper into your ears with a cute sleepiness, peppering your jaw with his lips. It's almost as if he was right beside you, brushing his thumb against your skin as he held your hands.

Thinking so fondly of your boyfriend's habits soothed the anxiety of your insomnia as you tried to remind yourself that he always stays safe and remembers you love him. Once coming home for the first time from work, he can't help but smother you in kisses and silly pet names, showering you in soft reminders of how much love and affection he has for you. And then the second time of the night, he'd do the same thing under different circumstances. It had happened the night before, and it'll happen again. 

Miguel, soft groans escaping his bruised lips, would come through the balcony of your shared apartment that stored your little collection of flowers and greenery, slip through the door you always made sure to crack, and wake you up in the dead of the night to be bandaged and treated by your caring touch with hushed pleas. Whispering sweet things, neediness in every touch. "I missed you, cariño. Been waiting to see your pretty face all day, can I kiss you? P-please, let me kiss you." 

And so you did, resting your fingers on his shoulders and slowly trailing up until they cupped his bloodied face by the jaw. Then, you'd painstakingly kiss him until his blood would mix with spit, his fangs desperately wanting to sink into your tongue. 

Getting so caught up in your little dream, the blaring of a shrill beeping car down below your apartment startled you. Interrupting the glass upon your lips, it spilled onto your nightgown with a gasp.

"Fuck.." you mumbled to yourself, missing your boyfriend more than ever. Changing in a rush, you pulled over one of his flimsy lounge shirts over your head to bask in his smell as a reminder of his presence.

Nueva York was a city that didn't sleep, as the chatter of passersby rang through busy traffic. Bars down below thrived under the limelight, people not in their right mind hid in the shadows of skyscrapers. 

You wondered what Miguel could be doing right now. Scouting the vibrant lights as his claws dug into the beam of a building? Knocking someone senseless under the conditions of justice? Saving a civilian as they fall from great heights? 

Wondering made you sick, the anxiety bubbling in your stomach as if you were the one downing margaritas and cocktails in a scummy bar down below. You needed to distract yourself. So you did anything an adult on a late night would do.

So when you finally came to your senses, you slapped a flour dusted hand over your mouth and groaned.

Apron tied to your waist, hair in a loose bun– nothing too serious, in fact you appreciated how this style still kept your androgynous but still staying practical. Wisps of hair straying from the hold would cloud your vision every now and then, which you'd have to blow out of the way subconsciously while preparing the whipped frosting. The TV, distantly able to still be heard from the living room, echoed quietly through the apartment with an ambience that lulled you to a calm. It was the news, you couldn't help yourself due to late night paranoia, but your hands were busy and your attention was snatched away from your beloved creation.

You've truly outdone yourself this time, you decide as you watch the oven in front of you with an exhausted gaze and a yawn. The kitchen was messy with egg residue and splashes of water and vinegar oil, the clock on the microwave read "2:49" in the morning. It was a kind of chaos you normally wouldn't find yourself to, as Miguel loved a schedule, a routine. It wasn't as if he didn't want you to have your fun, far from that, he simply just loved doing whatever was eventful with you. And you couldn't help but find baking amusing as you observed the small cakes in the shaped pans inflate as time went on.

You found yourself in the middle of your small apartment kitchen floor, sleepily peering into the oven until that sleepiness shifted into fully dozing off. It couldn't be helped, crashing so hard after pulling off a mission to pump out more than a dozen cupcakes, half chocolate batter and the rest strawberry flavoring. Thankfully, you were able to stay awake long enough to take the cakes out to cool, but as soon as the oven made the beep to turn off– the couch was the closest thing to fall into a needed rest.

It's hard to know how long you had exactly fallen asleep for, yet the frantic arms encompassing your form must have been any kind of indicator. It was a startle to wake from, as your mouth couldn't keep quiet before your brain began working. 

"Eeugh! I- God Miguel, you scared me so badly–" You heaved into his shoulder as he practically slumped on top of you, whispering his usual panicky tangents he'd spew after returning from his late nights. 

"Lo siento, lo siento mucho." Miguel buried his face into your neck, nose pushing against your pulse. "Would never purposely scare you, mi lucero del alba. But not seeing you in bed, that made me feel… not like myself." Miguel confessed with a shaky breath and a pause, breathing in the floury smell and just you, swearing a purr erupted from his throat. "Would have fallen on the floor of our apartment if you weren't here, in my arms.  "Te necesito más que al propio aire, baby."

A subtle smile peeked through his tone despite the desperation, the longing in his touch. His forearms pushed against your back ever so slightly, reminding himself that you're here. That you're safe. His hands met your sides, thumbs circling in a soothing motion. You knew it calmed him down to trace shapes within your skin, but you wouldn't be lying if you said you loved the burn of his touch when he isn't even truly doing anything on purpose. It was as if the warmth of his finger tips ignited into flames, searing his touch into you. You'll never be able to forget each circle, heart, or even a very rare star traced into your skin, accompanying every freckle or birthmark you have. Every part of you is adored, loved, cherished. 

"I'm going to be here, waiting for you. No matter where you are or where I have to be."

"I hope so." Miguel hummed, "If anything happens to you," His claws found themselves underneath his shirt that you wore to bed that night, trailing your sides like handing a delicate doll. "Tengo miedo de lo que pueda hacerles. For you I'd do anything." 

His body didn't feel suffocating to be lying beneath, as he cradled the both of you to be meeting halfway. It was heartwarming, being clung to like a teddy bear by a man who's trying to hold up an entire city with his own two hands.

You realized his suit was only partially off, head uncovered as well as part of his chest– the suit clung to his waist like a lifeline. Needing to see his soft little smile that he held so selfishly against your neck, you led his face to be held over yours. A soft whine escaped his lips, missing the warmth your neck provided, but a quick hush quieted himself easily.

"Don't act like a sad puppy, my love." You whispered into his lips, breath fanning an old cut just underneath. Inspecting the damage, Miguel's eyes fluttered shut as you smoothed over the stress lines between his eyebrows. Not too rough today, expect a few cuts and bruises. So in your terms and conditions, today may even be considered a great day. "Aww, look at you. You did so well today, didn't you?" Awarding him with a kiss, Miguel melted into you like a weighted blanket.

Both hands cupping his jaw, you held him there for a long while, relishing in the moments of peace and quiet with him. Peppering quick, feathery kisses over his lips and gliding over cheekbones and freckles upon the nose, kissing the stress line you smoothed out, before doing the routine all over again. You strayed, always did– couldn't resist his alluring features and soft pleas to continue kissing him. 

Miguel isn't always so docile. Some nights he'd storm into your bedroom in a trance of pent-up frustration and stress with bruising kisses and bites that took home amongst hidden skin. But most nights, he could be handled like putty. It was an adorable sight to see, as his fangs peeked through his plush lips from the tension going slack in his jaw.

Your lips finally met his for the first time that night, yet it wasn't heated or filled with ulterior motives. Miguel's mouth met yours, and he lazily tasted every inch of your mouth, grazing his fangs against your tongue by accident. He needed to know every inch of you, and remind himself a hundred times over.

"Miggy.." you mumbled between his kisses, and happiness dripped from your voice as he barely let out a "mm?" Separating for just a moment, he decided to simply nuzzle your hand as a substitute.

"Let me run you a bath."

This sparked his attention, a quirk of the eyebrow and a stare of disbelief. "Eh?" Miguel chuckled stiffly, his nuzzles coming to an abrupt end. "¿Qué piensas de mí, un niño pequeño? I'm no toddler." By his response, he hasn't heard such things in ages. But as you slipped away from underneath his grasp, you padded towards your shared bathroom without a word. He was the one to bicker, but once the plan was in motion Miguel couldn't help but abide with a light begrudge in his step.

"The little cakes can wait, honey. Don't try to use those as an argument to get out of this." Your words would come out as a scold to anyone else, but as you turned to start the water it was clear you simply just cared. Too much for your own good. "Let me just do this for you, I missed you today." You admitted. 

"It's too late for this still, cariño." He groaned with a tint of guilt as you started helping him undress. "I'll just shower, go on. Vete a dormir." Yet he did not swat away your advancements to prepare a towel, nor even the drop of bubble bath mix in the water. Miguel looked at you like a deer in headlights, mouth agape as you did so.

"I added the bubble bath formula only because you told me to sleep." You said deadpan, grabbing the suit that's fallen to the floor to hang it on the rack. Miguel's expressions contorted to annoyed, then shocked, to just downright amused of your antics that always had him guessing. He cackled as you kept yourself busy, until you finally signaled to get in.

It was as if you tried to get a cat in the water, as he stared at the mountain of bubbles that rivalled the skies. "I'm not getting in. I can't lose the rest of my dignity." This time, his tone was solid– nothing sounded as if it could get through to him. But you could read your boyfriend like a book, solve him like a puzzle in a matter of seconds. 

"Miggy, my love. My other half. My everything." You cooed, dropping to your knees to poke at the bubbles. "You don't get in this forsaken bathtub with just the right warmth and the bubbles I made with my own blood, sweat and tears, you will sleep on the couch until I give you explicit permission to lay with me." His scarlet eyes glowed with genuine fear in his eyes. "And then, you will just lie with me. You would not be able to hold my hands or waist or twirl your finger around my hair– you will be in timeout. No bed, no holding–"

A splash interrupted your words, wetting your legs as his size struggled to stay in the tub. His arm hung out of the side as his feet kicked up on the tile walls, and he looked as flustered as ever. "No me lo puedo creer." Miguel blew at the bubbles that settled on his face. "I'm no dog who needs a bath, cariño." 

Shaking your head at his rare childish antics, you leaned over the tub to kiss the bubbles upon his nose. It was a sweet, domestic little moment between the two of you.

Small little scars littered his form as you glided a soft wash cloth over the grime of the city that washed off onto him. When the fabric slid over a sensitive muscle or wound, he'd hiss a curse and a "be gentle with me, love." You only responded with a lick into his mouth, which earned you a bite to your lips. "I'm not trying to hurt you, just wanna take care of you, my angel." You whispered into the bubbles, shuffling your knees the closest you can to the tub without falling into it– and massaged the tension in his shoulders.

This elicited a groan to rip through the bathroom walls, a low rumble that he couldn't contain to himself following. Miguel was like a domesticated tiger, all bark and bite yet the rare moments of silly tenderness peeking through his rough exterior. "Ah, that feels–" Miguel hisses again in pleasure, his brain short circuiting under your graze. ".. increíble. Tú eres mi medicina." 

His forearm hanging off the side of the tub twisted to bring his grasp to your face, locking the both of you into a heated kiss, one that stored the unspoken words of lonely nights as Miguel's shifts grew longer and more tiresome. "Missed you, baby. I need you, need you always with me. Wouldn't know what to do without you, I'd go crazy." He rambled as one of your soap filled hands snaked into his hair, to lather his curls and simultaneously scratch where he loves. 

It was an endearing sight whenever Miguel openly expressed his adoration of you, both his thoughts and worries.

"I love you more, Miguel." You giggled as his nose scrunched together at the abrupt sensation of water cascading over his head, the bubbles falling from the softness of his hair and down the ridges of his jaw and nose.

Silence comfortably enveloped the two of you as you rinsed him off, scattering kisses on his skin whenever he mumbled declarations of affection.

As you wrapped his curls in a soft, small towel, his sleepy grumble of a question caught your attention. "What about your little sweets, mi amor? Do you need me to help you finish them?"

Laughing, you shook your head only to shush him softly. "No, no baby. Let's just do it together tomorrow once you get some rest." Leading him to stand, you began draining the tub. 

Miguel didn't argue with the idea of that, purring softly as he imagined the two of you frosting little delicacies– something incredibly cozy and lovely. He loved that about you, the way you reminded him about his own humanity, the little hanging reminder that he needs his own time to help to heal and thrive. 

"All done, baby." You slid your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest with a sigh. The towel hung around his waist was as soft as the fleece of a sheep, lulling you into the serene sleepiness your body craved to have. "How was your bubble bath?" The words tumbled from your lips as Miguel led the both of you to your shared bed, tucking you into the bundle of blankets scattering about. 

Before long, he slid into the opposite side with his own sigh of relief. Your hands grabbed at his now clothed chest, peeking at his exhausted, but content expression staring right back at your own. "Perfect, mi conejito." Miguel whispered with honesty, bringing you closer than ever as his breath fanned the crook of your neck.

Sleep began to take you as the strong scent of bubblegum flooded your senses, the slightly damp curls of Miguel tickling your neck and cheek. He intertwined his soul with yours, purring with a calm he could only achieve with you.

"Cupcakes tomorrow?" You murmured into his shoulder, soft and sleepy.

"Cupcakes tomorrow, cariño." A kiss to your neck. "Dulces sueños, goodnight."

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo's little sister seducing Choso at Shibuya

Pairing: Choso x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,6k

Synopsis: When Gojo's little sister is at Shibuya in order to find her brother, she meets none other than Choso - a man that seems to have everything she has ever dreamed about. Is she able to seduce him?

Warnings: the end is spicy as hell so read at own risk, Choso being a lil slow but straightforward in the end, this has no real plot so be aware of brainrot

Tags: @96jnie @shebibtedmypepnis @chososwhoresblog @sanicsmut (you didn't ask for that but I tagged you anyway) @curlynoodle937565 @ifuckfictionalmen (thought you might like that) @nyahctrl @khaleesihavilliard

„Let’s see where you are…”, you mumble to yourself.

Satoru has some nerves, letting himself get sealed when the whole country needs him and his stupid six eyes and hollow purple. You’ll definitely make fun of him for the rest of his life for that. What else should you do? After all, you are his little sister. It’s your job to get on his nerves.

Your heels klick against the hard floor beneath almost therapeutically while your eyes scan the area. Seems like none of these fuckers are here. Who the hell is responsible for this whole mess? Surely not that volcano and flower guy from before, right? If Satoru is smart, he already exorcised both of them.

Something inside you makes you stop in your tracks. There is someone, without any doubt.

“Don’t be shy, you don’t have to hide from me. I promise I won’t bite. Just beating the shit out of you”, you announce into the darkness, the only thing lighting up the hallways being the colorful signs.

This definitely isn’t one of Satoru’s students, that’s for sure. None of them is already skilled enough to hide from your sharp senses. Fuck, even Nanami can’t escape you.

So, who the hell is this?

Your nerves begin to tickle just the way you like it, a bright grin plastered on your face. Finally some action, finally someone you can fight eye to eye. How long has it been since you’ve experienced that? Too long, that’s for sure.

Despite being Satoru’s little sister, you aren’t gifted with six eyes or unlimited cursed energy. No, even though being a member of the Gojo-clan you were never able to meet his standards, always a shadow by his side. Gifted with the same blue eyes but without the glow, gifted with a few strands of white hair but your head isn’t fully snow-colored. That didn’t stop you from becoming a grade 1 sorcerer, one of the bests under the special ranks. Yes, you are an exceptional jujutsu sorcerer all by yourself, without being gifted since birth.

But regardless of your big brother always came first, he loves you with all his heart. Protected you when you didn’t want to be protected, trained you even though you hated getting beaten by him, comforted you when all you could do was cry. To be honest, Satoru is the best big brother you could have asked for and it’s your responsibility to save him. What do you have siblings for?

“You’re starting to get on my nerves. Come out or get out of the way.”

Foreign steps start to echo through the hallway, making your heart hammer against your ribcage in an instant. These footsteps don’t sound familiar to you, you haven’t met whoever this is yet.

Your vibrant blue eyes dart towards the figure of what seems like a man, coming closer and closer to you. He’s tall, dark hair hanging into his face. Oh, his face…he’s really handsome with that tattoo over his nose. Since being Satoru’s sister comes with meeting many good-looking man, this is nothing new to you. But something about him is special, more your type. A look into his brown violet eyes is enough to get lost in them.

“You’re hot”, you coo out, heels clicking while you approach him.

“Who are you?”, his deep but bored voice questions.

Choso hates to admit it, but you’re easy on his eyes. Something about your appearance seems familiar while he’s sure he has never seen you before. That ocean eyes…

“You look like Satoru Gojo.”

“Yeah, I hate to admit it but I’m his little sister. Are we really that similar? I don’t want to look like him”, you remark, face twisted.

That means you’re his enemy, that means he has to kill you. Instinctively, he shoots slicing exorcism your way, attempting to pierce right through your heart at horrendous speed.

“Watch out, that is dangerous!”, you warn him, flying through the air with ease to avoid his attack.

Damn, you’re fast. Your speed is exceptional for a human being, almost as fast as Satoru Gojo himself.

“Let me come closer”, you hush.

Before he’s able to react any further, you stand right in front of him, fists flying his direction.

“You’re so quiet, what’s on your mind?”, you insist, careful to not get sliced open by his blood manipulation.

“I wish you were too”, he hisses before catching your fist mid-air and slamming your body into the ground.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad”, you purr, hands grabbing his strong shoulders tightly.

Satoru would kill you right here on the spot if he’d hear you, always disliking your taste in men like nothing else.

“I think he’s kinda hot”, you admitted while eyeing the dark-haired boy from Kyoto named Kamo.  

Satoru almost choked on his coke, eyes and face screaming in disgust.

Are you serious, (y/n)? What the fuck is wrong with your taste in men, why always the bad ones? Maybe you should get them checked.”

He roughly smacked the back of your head, making you almost lose it completely.

“Are you out of your mind, idiot? I heard your eyes can freeze if someone hits you in the head while you’re squinting!”

“Your eyes aren’t functioning properly anyway. How about someone like Yuta or somethin’, a nice guy with good intentions. Or even better, just do this world a favor and stay single.”

“Can you just shut the fuck up? You have nothing to say to me!”

“I AM YOUR BIG BROTHER-“

“CAN YOU TWO SHUT UP ALREADY!?”

Hehe. You smile to yourself while shaking your head, focus back on the man in front of you. Oh, you can tell by the way he moves that he’s absolutely buff underneath that cloak. And his eyes…They look even more stunning up close. What a gorgeous man. Yes, he’s definitely more than your type. Who is he?

“Tell me your name.”

With a swift motion, you’re back on your feet, curse-loaded fists aiming for him.

“Choso Kamo”, he presses out.

What’s wrong with you? Are you really trying to seduce him while battling? He’s your enemy, he’s on his way to kill your comrade, he…you…

Why are you so good-looking? And why does your confident smile make his usual calm heart flutter? You don’t seem scared at all, let alone determined to kill him.

“Oh, that explains the blood manipulation.”

“I’m here to kill Yuji Itadori.”

“Yuji, huh? What did that poor boy do to deserve your hate?”, you question, letting yourself fall into a split to avoid his blood.

“He killed my brothers”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

You stop in your tracks for a second, gaze fixed upon his. Oh. This certainly wasn’t the answer you were expecting. In your mind, all of these curses and the people working with them are cold-hearted monsters, walking on this earth to kill every human that gets in their way. But Choso…

You can feel his pain.

“I’m sorry to hear that”, you breathe out.

And you mean it. You’d be devastated too if someone killed Satoru, seeking for revenge with every fiber of your being.

Your glistening eyes and words make it hard for Choso to raise his hand against you. The eyes that look like those of Satoru Gojo, those eyes that are partly responsible for the death of his beloved brothers. No, he can’t let you get away, you are a part of the problem, you have to die, you…

You are grabbing his hand.

“If someone killed my brother, I would do exactly the same thing. But let me tell you this wasn’t easy for Yuji, he had no other choice-“

“I don’t want to hear it”, Choso yells, slapping your hand away, trying to slash you open again.

“Good for you I like my man feisty and strong. You’re a great catch”, you shout, entangling him in close combat again.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t you understand that we are on different sides?”, he questions.

“Why though? We’d be a perfect match. I bet those fingers look good around my neck.”

The way Choso’s face instantly twists in disbelief and that little blush that creeps up his face are the best things you’ve seen for a long time while suddenly water rains down on him, fire alarms going off around both of you.

“Opsie, might have hit something important”, you comment, white uniform now soaked in water.

Did you really just say that? Are you too dumb to realize that he is your enemy, that romance has no place in his world, that he is fucking reincarnated? No, you are way too smart to not be aware of the fact who he is. You simply decide to ignore it.

But not only that, are you really flirting with him? Choso never really thought much about his appearance, it was never his goal to be ‘attractive’. But at the moment, when seeing your wet skin, your eyes lingering over him…

Something about your words and looks make him wonder.

“Do you…really mean that?”, he mumbles while blocking your attack.

“Huh, that you’re hotter than hell? Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m lying.”

Choso feels like fainting when your dripping face comes so close that it’s only inches away from his own, your mesmerizing orbs locking with his through wet lashes while your hands rest against his chest. Can you feel his heart hammer, can you tell that this the first time a women ever touched him? Oh god, what is he supposed to do? He has a mission, he needs to kill Yuji Itadori, he-

Your fingers start to draw small circles over the fabric of his soaked cloak, making something twitch inside his pants. Fuck, why do you have to look so absolutely stunning when your hair is completely wet, light up by purple light that makes you look almost angelic?

“Oh god”, he breathes out.

This feels so good. No, this is so wrong.

“You…you shouldn’t be flirting with me. I am party responsible for your brother getting sealed and killed. I am your enemy.”

“Urgh, stop talking about my damn brother, he’s fine anyway. He doesn’t let himself get killed by some idiots. And you don’t have to me my enemy. Let’s be…friends”, you suggest.

“Friends”, he repeats.

“Maybe more, who knows…I’m not mad about the things you’ve done. I fully understand why you’re outraged and what your mission is, I respect your motives”, you reply.

God, why does he have to be so breathtaking beautiful and relatable? Under all the men you’ve met, why is it exactly him you fell the hardest for? Why can’t it be someone like Ino or Todo? Why does it have to be him? Oh, Satoru will definitely kill you when he finds out about it.

But you don’t care. No, Choso has something you were looking for in every man you’ve met before. He is strong, outstanding smart, has clear goals, is straight up stunning and a little dangerous. You couldn’t care less about the fact that you’re standing on opposite sides.

You want him.

“You won’t stop me from killing Yuji Itadori.”

“I will have to try. But until then, there is absolutely no reason for us to fight, right? I’m into bad guys anyway.”

Choso looks at you completely lost at words. You, a breathtaking fine-looking and skilled jujutsu sorcerer, are really interested in getting to know him? This has to be a dream he didn’t know about until now, a deep desire that comes to life.

But he can’t resist. Despite all the things that speak against it, he can’t.

“Fine”, he grumbles.

“Great! Would you mind taking off that cloak so I can see your abs?”, you ask, eyes sparkling in excitement.

But why is this not enough? Why is a simple ‘fine’ not enough to fulfill that desire? Something inside him begs him to pull you closer, to hold your body firmly against his, kiss you and-

He swallows heavy. What has gotten into him?

“I won’t do that”, he automatically replies, gaze fixed on your pretty little mouth.

Oh, the things he wants to do right now, things he never thought about before. Is it because of the human body he reincarnated him? No, he never felt the desire to be close to a woman before. It’s because of you and the way you tilt your head, how you seem to know which words you have to use in order to drive him insane.

“Oh, was it too early for that? Fine, I’ll wait then… ”

Fuck it.

It happens faster than you’re able to react. With a swift motion, Choso pins you against a nearby wall, looking down at you with dark eyes.

“What do you have that other women haven’t had before?”, he hisses.

“Beauty, brain, power…”

You aren’t able to finish your ramblings. With rough hands, he grabs your waist and neck before pressing his lips against yours. You melt into his touch in an instant, too stunned by this sudden reaction. Instinctively, your very own hands begin to roam around his body, muscles now perfectly emphasized by the stream of water that pours down on both of you through the dim purple neon lights. Fuck, you’re melting like butter in his hands, your shared sloppy kiss being the only thing apart from the dripping water that fills the empty hallway.

“Fuck”, you moan into his lips, fingertips tracing through his wet hair.

This is straight out of your dreams. Making out with a man you didn’t even know an hour ago, a man that seems to have everything you want, a man who’s your enemy. But since when are enemies this good at kissing, since when is it allowed that they are so damn fine?

Why the hell are you so turned on?

He let’s go of you as suddenly as he grabbed you before, panting hard while looking down at you with glimmering eyes.

“I will search for Yuji Itadori now”, he proclaims, licking over his lips and closing his eyes for a second.

Slowly but surely, Choso returns back into reality, mind sorting itself. That felt good, way too good for his liking. If he didn’t let go, he’d probably stay here with you until the night ends. But he still has a mission to fulfill.

“You sure about that? Y’know, we could stay here a little longer, that fire alarm with all that water pouring down and the neon lights are kinda romantic…”, you begin.

“I’ll meet you again. Until then, don’t get in the way.”

One last touch. He allows his fingertips to brush over your cheek and mouth one last time before turning around and disappearing.

He’s gone, leaving you sinking down the wall as your knees give in. Mindlessly, your fingertips trace over your lips.

This really happened. Did you really just seduce the enemy? Your heart still hammers roughly against your chest, hands trembling in sensation while the water from above keeps pouring down on you. No man ever touched you like that, no man ever gave you that kind of feeling. Fuck, what did you get yourself into?

You chuckle into yourself, eyes fixed on the pouring water.

“If Satoru finds out about that…”

Click here for Part ll

[mayaree-darling]

mastermind

from aree: The Harbinger Trailer has consumed me yall are getting a brainrot. (I made this when the trailer first came out and have never posted it so here it is).

tw for yandere content

Yandere!Harbingers with a "darling" who is the right hand of the Tsaritsa herself. Not a Harbinger, but nonetheless important because they're the main strategist of the Fatui. I can just imagine the pain for the Harbingers because although darling is within arms reach, they're not allowed to make a move lest they anger their ruler.

Childe who first sees you akin to a younger sibling amongst the Fatui - you're no underling, on par with a Harbinger in importance if not more, protected almost as much as the Archon Herself - it would be hard not to be protective of you. And yet as you fix his wounds after another fight he started, telling him off in place of Her Majesty, giving him tips on how he could've fought better in whispers in between, his growing need for your attention consumes him. When he kisses your cheek (as thanks, he says) in front of the other Harbingers he's already looking forward to you treating the injuries they're sure to beat into him.

Scaramouche who grins when the Harbingers bristle as you walk side by side in the halls of Zapolyarny Palace - he says you should consider it an honor to walk with him, and it inflates his ego when you reply with a small nod and a smaller smile. Behind the others' backs, he follows you like a lost child, always walking behind you, gripping on to the back of your clothes like you might slip away if he's not careful. He's obsessed with the way you look at him and ask him questions about his creation. He fails to see that the adoration you hold for him is as hollow as he is.

Signora wonders if you know when she is at her lowest, that would certainly explain things, wouldn't it? She thinks she has lost her mind when she sees glimpses of her lost love when turning corners too quickly, haunting her when she lets her guard down but then you're in front of her, greeting her with a soft smile that feels all too familiar and she realizes she has gone mad in other ways (she welcomes that newfound madness like the lover that it is, finally coming home).

Pantalone who believes that one of life's greatest pleasures is to own what others cannot - to collect the rare, the exquisite and the hard to obtain - and to have you, a person of great mind and ranking, be dangled right infront of him on a piece of gold thread held by the Tsaritsa, who was he to resist the urge to make you his? (after all, he deserves only the best) The longer he does not have you, the more your worth rises in his eyes.

Dottore who initially wants to pick apart your brain (quite literally) but his interest shifts and doubles when he reaches an epiphany that what he truly lacked from the Akademiya was someone who shared his intellect, a genius to match his own. Maybe you don't share his affinity for biology, but he loves the way your conversations keeps him on his toes (if you weren't a being close to perfection for him before, then you certainly are now.)

Arlecchino who watches as you care for the children in the orphanage, checking in on them even long after they've joined the ranks of the Fatui and compares it to the frigid ways of the other Harbingers. For the first time since being a part of this cold nation, she is envious of the warmth you give (why must you have so much love to share?) She thinks that should the day come she turns her back on this frigid country, she would surely take your hearth with her.

Marionette who finds herself being drawn to the way you move around a room and hold yourself up in front of people, marveling at the intricacies of each part of your body and the way they make up the being that is you (you could trip and fall and she'd still sigh in awe). Her fascination turns you from muse to future subject. Surely such a specimen must be preserved, right? Not to mention, there would be no greater honor than to turn the Tsaritsa's best into a perfect unchanging doll.

Damselette who usually goes quiet when you're in the same room as her, always eager to hear you talk, almost hissing when a Harbinger tries to speak over you. She finds your voice is the one in her head who speaks reason to her when she gets a bit out of control (Does she listen? No, but your voice is always ever so lovely). Wouldn't it be so nice if you're the lone voice she hears always, the same way you're already always in her thoughts?

Capitano who is thankful his mask covers the fond look he gets when you turn to him - not with fear like the lower ranking Fatui or haughty like the Harbingers - but as an equal, leveling him with a gaze that leaves him fooling himself that it means something more. He's less thankful for his mask when someone calls your attention away from him and he can't control the glare he sends their way (maybe if they saw the way he looked at them, they'd finally be put in their place).

Pulcinella is quick to put you in a pedestal - you are someone to be respected and someone to be kept at a distance. And yet as he watches the Harbingers fall deeper and deeper into obsession, he takes it upon himself to protect the Tsaritsa's favorite and the Fatui's brain from whatever his co workers are plotting. As he spends more time with you (making sure the others do not occupy all of your time), the pedestal he keeps you on crumbles until all he sees is another child to keep under his wing. He fails to see he has only fallen into a different hole as the rest.

Strategist!Darling who may pretend to be oblivious to the Harbingers' feelings but is actually letting it all happen to make sure they all stay under the Tsaritsa's rule one way to another.

Does Pierro know what you're doing? Maybe. It's not like he is blind to how the Harbingers act around you, subtle as they try to be. If you spend enough time with him, you might be able to tell that he enjoys watching you play the part of a fool, dancing around the others and making them dance for you, too. He might even step in once he thinks the other Harbingers are stepping out of line, but it all depends on what he gets out of sticking into your business.

I also like the dynamic where although the Harbingers cannot make a move to claim what is "their's", darling is just as trapped. Although they always sometimes want to leave, they know as much as anyone that the Tsaritsa is the only thing standing between them and the others. The moment they try to leave the Tsaritsa's side or they lose her favor, it's all fair game for the Harbingers.

Everyone is stuck in a stalemate until someone makes a misstep.

✨ Masterlist ✨ 

Taglist: 💛@anime-allover  💛@faeriessky  💛 @prksolon 💛 @dai-tsukki-desu 💛 @wonpielle

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

[multifariousqueer]

The talk-Logan Howlett x Reader

A/n: oml the brainrot I have for this man is insane. Feel free to request imagines for this man. 😍😍

Warnings: talks of pregnancy, fluff, fiancé!Logan, idk I think that’s it.

Rain pattered against the windowsill of your shared cozy cabin up East. It was another night of waiting for Logan to return home from X men business and you couldn’t wait to see him; you had news that one of your friends was pregnant and that you were going to be an aunt. Your heart thumped in your chest as you heard your security system go off(ever since Logan joined the X men, he wants to make sure the only good thing[you] in his life is safe) and the sound of heavy boots entering through the door:

“Hey baby I’m home” he said. Logan always felt reassured when he walked through the front door because he knew that everything he needed and wanted was there. The house was always warm with candlelight and something amazing being made.

You had cooked dinner and set the table. All he needed to do was wash his hands and sit down.

“Hey honey! Oh my gosh I missed you”. You chirped as you rushed into his embrace. A hug seemingly lasting for centuries despite it being no longer than thirty seconds quickly melting all stress and worry from Logan’s frame.

Logan smiled down at you and kissed your forehead, resting his on top of yours.

“I missed you too, bub. How was your day?” Logan said. Even after almost dying, he was so thoughtful.

This wasn’t new for Logan and you however, he was always quick to ask about you before you asked about him(although don’t get me wrong, you still asked). This could’ve been due to PTSD or maybe just a natural occurrence in your relationship but either way, you both weren’t complaining.

“OMG YOULL NEVER GUESS WHAT HAPPENED!!” You shouted

“hm?” Logan asked, still holding his position on your forehead as you stood there for a minute taking each other in.

“IM GONNA BE AN AUNT AND YOURE GONNA BE AN UNCLE!!” You shouted again.

The news genuinely shocked Logan as he never pegged your friend for being the “parent” type. She was always sweet to him and seemed responsible enough but something made him feel offput. Maybe it was the fact that you guys were talking about children the other day or about how you two always talked about having kids but he felt a twinge of jealousy at this news.

“That’s great, baby” he said through gritted teeth

“What’s wrong?” You picked up on the shift immediately. He was your fiancee after all.

“Nothing” he said, trying his best to hide his displeasure

“Something. Tell me, baby” you cooed.

“It’s just…everyone’s getting pregnant except for us. I’m happy to be an uncle but I want to be a dad, you know?” He said honestly. This was one of the few times that Logan actually expressed himself and his emotions without shutting down. Needless to say, this might not happen again.

“I know, bubs. It’ll be our time soon but between you, the X-Men, our jobs… we just need to focus on each other right now. It’ll happen when it happens but have each other for the time being” you expressed.

A long pause permeated the room. Fear rang through your heart as the worst scenarios played through your mind. What if he shut down again? What if this turned him off? What if’s shot through your head as it was immediately turned down by a gruff voice:

“you’re right. I need to focus on you and me. I shouldn’t have brought it up” he said, remorsefully.

“No no no! Please bring it up but we just need to look at both sides of the coin right now. Okay?” You said reassurangly

“okay” he said with a small smirk on his face.

You both went to the table and made his plate before eating and going to bed. Nights and talks like this are what made you fall for him, the simplicity of complicated conversations and the calm demeanor’s of you both made you want to give him the child you both wanted.

*1 year later*

Tears flooded the corners of your eyes as the test in your hand showed two pink lines.

“Logan!!!” you said, your voice breaking with happiness.

“Yeah baby?” He asked standing by the door.

“Are we ready?” You laughed.

Logan smiled and shook his head before speaking:

“I think so bubs, I think so”



[chamomilewrittingblock]

Solo Leveling Brainrots

Fellow Jinwoo Simps I need your thoughts and opinion!! Also MASSIVE brainrot warning!!!

QUESTION: How do you think Jinwoo would react to his partner questioning his taste in lovers? (ie. Being interested in Reader themselves)

How id imagine the confession would go: Jinwoo, pre-awakening: I like you *holds bouquet of flowers Reader, confused: um! *looks around to see if he's talking to someone behind them before pointing at themselves confused*... me? Jinwoo: Yes, You. Reader, Shocked: oh! Um... I like you too... but *hesitates* are you sure? About me??

The feeling is mutual!!! It's just his lover doesn't have alot of confidence in themselves. Or any confidence into getting a romance with anyone, let alone Jinwoo!! Reader feels like they have ZERO RIZZ (reader has enough rizz to woo Jinwoo so...).

Like would he hype them up???? Mayhaps but in subtle ways though I'd imagine🤔🤔. You think he'd be extra affectionate when reader gets shy??? Would this differ pre and post awakening?? (I imagine Jinwoo and reader wouldn't want the relationship public due to safety since hes a hunter and all)

AND WHAT ABOUT HIS POST AWAKENING GLOWUP AND THE FANS!!! READERS ALREADY SHY BUT THE TABLOID EVENTUALLY CHIPS AT THE SLOWLY BUILT CONFIDENCE JINWOO HELPED BUILD.

OHMYGOSH WHAT ABOUT THE TABLOIDS WITH CHA HAE-IN???? WOULD HE GET WORRIED SINCE READER MIGHT GET INSECURE OR JUST KINDA SAD???

WHAT IF READER TELLS HIM THAT HE DESERVES BETTER, BELIVJNG THAT READWR DOESNT DESERVE HIS LOVE?? AAAA OUCHHHH.. I GUESS HE HAS TO STAY WITH READER AND REMIND THEM OF HIS UNWAVERING LOVE WITH CUDDLES AND QUALITY TIME DJBDBFIDN

(reader is Jinwoo's ride-or-die, the monarch of his heart and soul, the love reader gives him is like comfort of warm soup at the end of the day, the kind that soothes even the deepest of wounds. Reader's love is also a drug, one that he cant get enough of. If he loses reader, Jinwoo would go insane.)

AUDBUDBDIBD HOLY!!!! WOULD HE GET PISSED ABOUT IT AND ENDS UP GETTING CLINGY IF CRAZY SHIPPERS TRYING TO PUT READER IN DANGER IE. SENDING A MONSTER READER'S WAY BECAUSE OF THEM BEING A "THREAT" TO THEIR SHIP (HIM AND CHA HAE-IN)??? I MEAN LIKE GUIDE THE MONSTER SPECIFICALLY AWAY FROM THE DUNGEON TO READERS LOCATION TOO. (TO THE EXTENT THAT ITS CLEARLY FOUL PLAY)

LIKE THANK THE MONARCHS THAT READER HAD SHADOWS ASSIGNED AND MAYBE WAS DECENTLY RANKED AFTER AWAKENING BUT IT COULD HAVE ENDED AWFUL IF THE FATES WERENT ON READERS SIDE!!

WOULD HIS ARMY GET PROTECTIVE TOO?? IGRIS??? BERU??? LIKE HOW DARE THESE FOOLS HARM THEIR MONARCHS BELOVED?!?!?!? 😡😡EVEN WORSE IS IF READER WORMED THEIR WAY INTI THEIR HEARTS BY GENUINELY GETTING TO KNOW THEM SO ITS PERSONAL NOW TOO!!

Reader has to calm down not only a PISSED jinwoo but his Shadows too (mainly Jinwoo though)!! And maybe being the only reason Jinwoo hadn't gone on a rampage after everything setted. Was he bribed with a heated makout session and plenty of cuddles afterwards to temper his rage and soothe his anxiety, yes. Did it work??? Probably. If it did??That's none of our buisness.

Id imagie Cha Hae-in would feel bad™ if they found out about Jinwoo and reader (just assuming the two being best friends)?? Being like "oh shit someone, a civilian no less, almost died because of her fans" Even worse if later on she learns that they're together aaaaa

But like seriously, what a messed up reminder of the power S-Rank Hunter have on the media. Yes, they know about their celebrity status affecting what they can or can't do but like this??? A whole different level, because yes, people targeting other?? Awful? Yes, but its fine. Using a MONSTER FROM A DUNGEON to target a CIVILIAN?? This is a whole new level of messed up.

Would the other S-ranks and National-ranked hunters feel like kinda bad too once they hear about it??

what the fuck??? For the following reasons:

No one deserves that

Its a civilian going against fans that are most likely hunters, the very individuals hunters are ment to protect from monsters ever since the dungeons appeared

THE HUNTERS USED A HIGH RANKED MONSTER TO TARGET A CIVILIAN (the mutual enemy internationally)

this was all done because PEOPLE BEING ENTITLMENT OF THE RELATIONSHIPS OF THE S-RANK HUNTERS.

This is furthur solidified and makes the WHOLE DEBACHLE worse because only EXPERIENCED hunters would have the knowledge and experince to be able to lure a monster from a dungeon break to a specific location, especially if reader wasn't even near the dungeon in the first place.

(For anyone who's read this all the way, thanks for reading my silly thoughts!)

[stardew-shitposterino]

Stardew Valley Bachelors and how they deal with their secret crush on the farmer

———-——————————

BEHOOOOLD! I’m kind of back but I’m not because I have a job and feel tired most of the time. I still need to get used to adult life. Anyway, here are the bachelors and how they deal with having a fat crush on you, you cutesy farmer person covered in filth!

Contents might be a bit NSFW so MINORS…you know what not to do *fights them off with a stick*

Enjoy my brainrot 🍓🥰

Sam:

-Sammy is a cute little guy, almost like a dog wagging it’s tail when they see their owner.

-he is SO BAD at hiding it

-he will dream about you two jamming on a big stage together. In his ideal world, you two are a successful duo who make noise rock (kind of like the white stripes minus the weird siblings or married controversy)

-Sam will write songs about you. It’s not intentional per say, and he thinks he really sucks at writing love songs, but it just happens whenever he has to think about you. The words just start flowing.

-he might or might not have had some steamy shower fantasies about you…while in the shower. Jodie keeps complaining about the water bill being unusually high 👀

-yet, Sam is usually not too horny when he is in love with you. He is more gushy and daydreamy than anything

Sebastian:

-homeboy works with nightcore versions of love songs to cope with his longing

-he isn’t the type to show his feelings so openly, so no one really notices his crush on you. Maybe Sam, but well, he is Seb’s best bud. Of course he can tell

-He notices how his sleep has improved since having a crush on you. He willingly goes to bed earlier to have some time to imagine scenarios of you two

-just you and him together on his cool ass motorcycle, driving into the night and ending it with a passionate kiss (sounds familiar?)

-well,,, let’s just say Seb is increasingly horny since having a crush on you. Before, he was almost certain he is some sort of asexual, but nope 😃 he’s healthy and extremely down bad for the filthy farmer who eats raw fish out of the pond 🥰

-what I mean by horny? Uhhh… he didn’t really need to rely on certain websites to satisfy his needs, that’s for sure 👀

Harvey:

-Harvey is a good man. A very good man

-god bless his soul 😫

-Harv isn’t the type to have crushes easily…I can’t believe it either, considering his crush on Maru who is way younger than him 💀

-but in my head, he isn’t the type to be all lovey dovey over someone. That’s why he’s so bad at hiding it. But you don’t really notice. You just suspect it but it could also be his usual anxiety lol

-it happened anyway😎 and he doesn’t know how to cope. At all.

-he has to think about you at all times, especially when he looks at the empty jars of delicious pickles you’ve made him

-This man is usually collected, but now?! He forgets everything, can’t even form a comprehensible sentence at times when his mind is busy thinking about a romantic picknick date with a lovely farmer

-Harvey’s libido is pretty much a dead beat horse 💀 but now he even feels the desire to do some nasty nasty at times. It’s still pretty tame, he’s a gentleman through and through, but wild for him to have those feelings and longings after what feels like decades. He’s not mad at it. He has felt low-key dead inside for so long so this is very exciting and he’s eager to explore this side of him…despite being anxious 😭

Elliott:

-bet your ass he’s the prince of crushes

-he is very dedicated and welcomes those refreshing feelings with a kiss

-feeling better than usual AND having inspiration to write ?! SIGN HIM UP

-he will use every chance he can get to talk to you, maybe even get you drunk (in a non creepy way) because he likes when you’re unapologetically authentic and let loose. It makes him feel more in touch with your soul (or some shit idk I’m not a poet)

-Elliott is NOT SUBTLE

-you practically know from the start that he has the hots for you, but it’s kinda funny seeing him try to pretend it’s not that way…if you can even call that pretending not to be 😭

- his passion doesn’t end at his artistry. This guy will spend a lot of time in his shower thinking about what could be, or sitting at the docks at night just staring at the sea (he’s NOT doing anything nasty in public, peeps. Don’t get it twisted)

-I can also see him recreate a romantic bedroom date he’d love to have with you…but it’s just him 🤷🏼‍♀️ self care king 👑

Shane:

-like Harvey: HE CANNOT COPE!

-he hasn’t felt like this since high school. Every other encounter with potential partners was surface level and only based on sexual satisfaction

-so caring about you, thinking about what makes you happy and how he could be the reason you smile every day, that’s a lot for him

-as stupid as it sounds, he spirals and becomes low-key miserable over it. Give this man a 101 lesson on how to process emotions 😭

-despite the constant anxiety he feels, he low-key enjoys it. It’s kind of hopeless as well as pointless in his honest opinion, but there is this believe, that 0.00001% chance (in his mind) that he could turn his life around and be happy with you, married and maybe have a child of his own one day

-but that’s wishful thinking, riiiiiiight? So what does a self loathing piece of alcoholic man do instead of making a move? Yeah, self pleasure even more than usual, to get at least a bit of serotonin and the willpower to get his shit together, at least for you if it isn’t for him. He’s pretty rough with it too (ouch, unless you’re into that)

-sorry bros but him having a crush is not really all that cute. He’s my cutie pie, but let’s be real: him dealing with those feelings he tried to shut off for so long will be tragic in a way. He’s battling his inner demons here. So yeah… :(

Alex:

-my man, my maaaaan 🥰

-he has earned a soft spot in my heart, bless his soul

-so Alex has a crush on you from the start, it’s basically canon

-can he show his feelings? Yes! Can he do that in a way that can be read as the feelings he tries to get across to you? NO!

-low-key bullying is his love language 🥰

-at least in the beginning. He’s a bit anxious and fears he isn’t good enough for you, so he doesn’t try to be authentic. Being the jock jerk everyone expects him to be gets a reaction out of you and that’s better than nothing, right?

-he’s neither the poetic nor the intellectual type, so he doesn’t process his emotions by writing them down or putting them into words. Just imagine him going about his work-out routine, just thinking about your beautiful smile and rocking bod while sweating like a hog

-Alex and quiet ? Yes that’s possible. I imagine him to go quieter than usual since having a crush on you. He processes everything internally and that takes a lot of time for him as he usually just shrugs off his emotions and doesn’t try to brood too much on them. But now?! He can’t but blush in silence as he just imagines how soft and small your hands must be next to his (yours are way more impressive than his and calloused to the gods, but let him have this moment)

-when it comes to being nasty…Alex is a serial romantic. We know that he probably was the lady’s man back in school so he probably got some action one way or another. In other words, man has the libido of a teen that just hit puberty 💀

-despite being quite horny, he was able to manage to just do it every other day. Now, he cannot even get out of bed in the morning before doing it as you pester his dreams and make his hormones go crazy first thing in the morning…so many nice boxer shorts were lost along the way 🫡

-he also did his own laundry for the first time during that period lmfao

[dekariosclan]

I’m still brainrotting about jealous Gale…I know we love our sweet and goofy wizard, but HEAR ME OUT—

There’s an Astarion line where if you mention another companion as being beautiful/attractive, he’ll say he needs to “keep up with the competition.” SOOO that got me thinking, for an early-romance Tav that might also be romancing another companion(s), what do you think Gale would try to do to “keep up with the competition?” Would he try and sabotage the other companion’s wooing, or would he try to out dazzle/romance their efforts with Tav?

OP this is a fantastic question, but before I can give you my answer, I feel like I need to share my reasoning behind it! (I always have to defend my thesis 😂) So:

One of Gale’s best traits is that he is unwaveringly sweet, open, and honest about his feelings. Gale might’ve insisted on his privvacy when it came to initially sharing info about the orb, but he does not hold back when it comes to his affections and feelings for Tav. He doesn’t ‘play games,’ he’s not cryptic or mysterious, he’s not volatile, he’s not closed off. He’s an open book; and he wants a relationship with Tav that is built on an honest foundation with honest emotions.

All this to say—Gale is not toxic. He is not cruel. We are shown this later in the game, too, if Tav breaks up with Gale and decides to pursue another companion. If Tav lets him down gently, Gale will tell them he ‘would rather see Tav happy with another, than not happy at all.’ He will bow out gracefully.

Or, if Tav chooses to stay with Gale instead? Gale will be overjoyed, surprised that you picked him—he even mentions the ‘stiff competition’!—but he’ll also ask about the other companion’s feelings, about what the breakup will do to them; he is genuinely concerned.

Yes, he indulges in a bit of harmless jealousy and shade-throwing if Tav is flirting with someone else at the Grove party—but we’ll forgive him for it, since his hopes for that night were dashed, and the wine loosened his tongue a bit. (also, we’ll forgive him because we love a sweet jealous jelly bean Gale.)

So all of that said—do I think Gale would try and actively sabotage the other companion(s) wooing Tav?

I do not; I think Gale would find that to be unconscionable.

But, do I think he would try to ‘out romance/woo/dazzle’ the other companion’s efforts with Tav?

Yes. Absolutely. 10,000%.

Not out of any malicious intent to ‘win’ against the others, just out of pure desire to show Tav how much they mean to him. Because when he wants to convey his interest, by the Gods, he is going to do it. He is many things, but he is not coy.

For example, this is the man who, in one single early-romance conversation:

1. Affectionately compares Tav to his beloved cat tressym

2. Says he likes Tav’s stench, and

3. Ends the convo by saying he’d climax so hard for Tav he’d destroy the Sword Coast.

He’s a rizz machine.

So, I can absolutely see Gale trying to do some impressive magic to ‘wow’ Tav. As he himself says, “You know me—my grand gestures can never be grand enough.” Perhaps he starts doing some over-the-top spells in battle that look impressive, but are unnecessary. Or he puts on a light show at nights in the camp just to display his illusory skills. Or he goes out of his way to use magic for simple solutions—like casting Knock when they already have a perfectly good lock picking set they can use, etc.

The irony is that, for all these efforts, the ways that he not only ‘keeps up with the competition’ but actually beats it, in Tav’s opinion, aren’t his grand magical gestures.

It’s when he’s serving dinner portions, and he’ll lessen his own portion just to give Tav more. Or when he goes out of his way to loot literature on topics that he knows Tav is interested in. Or how he’ll say, “May I?” as he takes Tav’s cold cup of tea, enchanting it to the perfect temperature before handing it back.

Or even just how, when Tav comes to talk to him, he visibly brightens, smiles and says “I do enjoy our conversations,” with sincere affection.

Little things, sweet gestures—in the end, that’s what wins Tav over. Because that’s what’s most dazzling of all about Gale.

[gay-dorito-dust]

hi sweetheart ��🥺 I love ur page so much!! Also I feel so thirsty to ur cannibal and reader things we need MORE and more PLEASE FEED US 🙏🏻🙏🏻🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

I will keep feeding you cuz I have some stuff in mind but I’d like to add some benjicot Blackwood brainrot into it also bc he’s been on my mind since the sneak preview for episode 3.

So I might as well do a little short piece for you right here cuz I can:

Since we’ve toyed with the idea that reader and Cannibal would/could have a telepathic bond, so what happens if reader gains a crush on someone?

Cannibal is extremely protective over reader, no man -or woman- is good enough for them in his eyes and will let that be known.

Let’s say you met benjicot by pure coincidence, whether it be by a Bracken boy being a cunt and you kicked him in the dick, or you just happened to run into him and find his shy awkwardness somewhat charming and endearing as you found yourself wanting to get to know him more and he with you.

However Cannibal sees this interaction and is immediately in your head saying; the Blackwood boy? While skilled with the sword the boy can barely put together a sentence in your presence, what do you find so appealing about that small friend?

And you’re like: he’s sweet and kind and strong but has a warriors heart.

Only for cannibal to respond with seconds later as your getting lost in Benjicot’s eyes, cutting your daydream of being his short: he’s a guy that you’ve barely known for five minutes and you’re already saying he has your heart? Small friend you must realise how dangerous this mentality is, for your sake and mine.

You mentally curse this telepathic bond of yours as you tried not to show Benji that you were far away in your head to listen to him talk about anything; so? I can always get to know him more of you stop butting in you overgrown lizard.

Cannibal growled at the insult from afar, watching you practically eat the awkward Lord Blackwood with your eyes; I don’t want to see your filthy fantasies mortal, your hormones are getting the best of you that I can smell it from where I am.

‘Would you like to come visit Raventree hall sometime soon?’ Ben’s calming voice pulled you from your mental argument with your dragon as you blinked at him before realising what he had just asked.

‘Oh yeah, I would love to but I don’t wish to intrude-‘

‘It’s honestly no harm,’ Ben cuts in, cheeks flushing red after realising how desperate he might’ve looked in wanting to see you more as he clears his throat, ‘what I mean is that I’m the one who offered the invitation and besides I’d like to think my aunt would come to enjoy your presence.’ He adds with the shrug of his shoulders to act nonchalant.

You could hear cannibal groan at the obvious tension between the two of you, complaining that it was burning his sensitive nose, but you only smiled at Benjicot softly and laid a hand on his bicep. ‘I’d love to Benji, I would be honoured. I shall send a raven whenever I can.’ You tell him and you couldn’t help but smile when he smiled, warmth flooding your chest as you both bided the other farewell and see you soon’s.

When you got back to Cannibal and needless to say if a dragon could raise a judgmental brow, you knew that’s what he was doing as he huffed.

I don’t approve. Cannibal growled in your head.

You never approve of anyone I’ve ever fancied. You retorted back as Cannibal gave you the silent treatment for the next week for thinking about the sweet nobleman of house Blackwood.