#so the final gif is so long because it looks like he out of instinct dipped his head and then had to fumble for his own lighter :(
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—Two sides of a coin.
Pairing: Young-il / Hwang In-ho x fem!reader
Summary: when he went into the games and blended in as a player, he didn’t expect himself to start caring for you so much. However, during Mingle, he realized you might not be so different from him…
Warnings: In-ho & Young-il are interchangeable—I used both in here, violence, death, him being concerned for you a lot, fast-paced, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!
Word count: ~ 2.0k
You had caught his attention early on, long before you had even spoken to him. You weren’t like the others—no frantic alliances, no desperate pleas. You moved through the games like a shadow, calculating but not ruthless, detached but not cold. You held people at a distance, but you weren’t cruel about it. That intrigued him.
He watched how the others in his group gravitated toward you, despite knowing next to nothing about you. You let them in just enough to function as a team, but no further. And yet, there were moments when you let something slip—when your guard lowered just slightly, a half-smile at Jung-bae and Dae-ho, a quick hand extended to steady Jun-hee when she winced in pain, her hands covering her stomach.
It made In-ho wonder. Who were you, really? What had brought you here?
More than that—why did he care?
He wasn’t supposed to. He was here with a purpose. Not to get attached. And yet, every time a new game started and ended, his first instinct was to check on you. To make sure you were still there. Still breathing. Still alive.
Like now.
The platform beneath him whirred as Mingle began again, spinning slow but fast enough to disorient, especially in a state of panic, though he barely felt it. The more players lost, the more chaotic it became. Fear made people desperate, and desperate people were unpredictable.
His eyes stayed on you.
You stood with your usual quiet focus, weight balanced perfectly, already anticipating the moment the platform would stop.
The moment the platform jerked to a halt, the voice crackled overhead:
“Five.”
Panic erupted around him instantly.
People lunged, grabbing at whoever was closest, shoving and clawing to form groups. He ignored them all, moving toward you. His hand reached out, fingers brushing your wrist—
And then someone crashed into him.
The impact sent him stumbling just enough to lose sight of you.
His heart pounded against his ribs.
No.
Shoving past bodies, he searched for you, ignoring the hands trying to pull him into groups, or Dae-ho’s constant call for him. The countdown was already ticking down, but his only thought was find her, find her, find her.
Then he saw you.
You had spotted the others—Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Jun-hee, and Dae-ho. They were waving at you, shouting from the front of one of the rooms they found empty.
Four.
They needed one more.
You didn’t make a move right away, your head turning around as if you were looking for something—or someone. Then, your eyes locked with In-ho, the lingering look told him to go with the group, and he felt his breath hitch.
Before In-ho could try to communicate that you needed to be the one who’s safe—you ran.
Not towards the room, but into the waves of people scrambling to find others to get into a room.
He cursed under his breath and ran toward the other four, who all shouted for him.
The doors slammed shut. His breathing quickened by the thought of you being eliminated. What if you didn’t find another group? What if you didn’t find a room?
A moment later, the final buzzer sounded, and the doors locked.
The ones who had failed to form groups pounded against the locked doors, their screams cut short by the inevitable gunshots. The guards moved in, silent and efficient, dragging the bodies away.
It should have been routine. In-ho had seen this before. He had orchestrated it before.
But he barely saw any of it.
Because all he could think was—was she inside?
Had you made it?
When the clean-up was over, the doors unlocked, allowing the players to come out of the rooms. In-ho’s first thought was to look for you in the crowds of players.
You stepped out from another room. Alive.
He felt the air rush from his lungs.
For a second, he didn’t move. Just stood there, taking in the sight of you, as if his mind needed proof. You walked out with that same composed stride, only the slight rise and fall of your chest betraying the fact that you had almost died.
And then—then you smirked.
That soft, knowing smirk. Like you were telling him, I’m fine. See? You didn’t need to worry.
Something inside him snapped.
Before he could stop himself, his feet carried him forward, fast, almost desperate. He barely registered the others, barely cared if they noticed.
He just needed—
He stopped inches away from you.
His breath was steady, but his hands twitching at his sides. He had almost lost you. The realization crashed into him harder than it should have. It unsettled him, made his pulse hammer in a way he didn’t like. He had known fear before, but never like this.
And you—damn you, you just stood there, watching him with those unreadable eyes. You had no idea. No idea how close he was to pulling you into his arms just to make sure you were real. To confirm you were still here. He forced himself to breathe, to shove the instinct down.
You smirked again, tilting your head slightly. “Missed me?”
“You worried me.” Young-il said simply, trying to calm himself, giving you a smile, though it felt a bit forced.
“I saved you too.”
—
The last round.
The tension was suffocating.
126 players left. Only 50 rooms. It meant 26 people were guaranteed to die if the remaining players were required to form pairs.
You felt it in the way the bodies around you tensed, the way some players shifted closer together, while others eyed their competition like prey.
The platform had barely stopped spinning when the announcement came.
“Two.”
Young-il didn’t hesitate. He didn’t stop to think, didn’t give himself a moment to assess. His body moved purely on instinct. His hand shot out, fingers curling around your wrist in a firm grip, and before you could react, he pulled you forward.
“Come on!"
There was no time to wait. No time to look for anyone else. He needed you by his side, needed to ensure that you wouldn’t be swallowed by the chaos erupting all around.
And it was chaos.
Players lunged for one another, hands grabbing, shoving, desperate to form pairs before the rooms filled. The knowledge that not everyone would make it—that some would be left behind to die—drove them to madness. Some scrambled without thought, others moved with purpose, pulling people down, throwing punches, trampling those too slow to keep up.
The room was in sight.
Not far. Just a few more feet.
Then something slammed into him.
A body, heavy and frantic, slammed into his side with brute force, knocking the air from his lungs and sending him crashing to the ground. The grip on your wrist slipped away as his back hit the hard platform floor.
The player who tackled him was bigger—strong, but wild with panic. His hands clawed at Young-il’s teal tracksuit, trying to shove him back down. A split second’s hesitation in a game like this could mean death. He knew that.
But before he could fully react—before he could twist the man off him and take back control, you were already moving. No hesitation. You grabbed the man’s collar, your grip brutal and sure, and yanked him off with shocking strength. Young-il barely had time to register the movement before—
Crack.
A sickening sound, one that echoed in the madness.
Your foot came down hard, precise, against the man’s leg. The force of it snapped the bone like it was nothing more than a twig beneath your heel.
The man screamed—a raw, gut-wrenching sound—but it was already over. He collapsed, writhing, his face twisted in agony. But you weren’t looking at him, you were looking at Young-il.
And for the first time in a very, very long time, In-ho was stunned. Not by the violence. He had seen worse. Done worse.
But by you.
The sheer efficiency of it. The lack of hesitation, the brutal finality in the way you moved. You didn’t even look at the man after you broke him. You didn’t hesitate, didn’t tremble, didn’t stop to think about what you had just done. There was no regret in your eyes. No guilt. Just cold, calculated action.
For a single breath, he just stared at you, trying to make sense of what he had just seen, of who he was looking at.
Then your fingers curled around his arm, yanking him to his feet with a sharp, urgent tug.
“Move!”
That single word shattered whatever had frozen him.
He shoved the thoughts aside and ran with you, the chaos of the game roaring in his ears. He could process it later. Right now, all that mattered was survival.
The room was just ahead, one of the few left.
One last sprint.
Young-il pulled you forward, feet pounding against the floor. Almost there.
You both got inside.
The door slammed shut behind you.
For a moment, the world outside faded, the noise of screams muffled by the walls enclosing you both. The sheer brutality of the game had been left outside the door. Inside was silence, heavy and suffocating.
But then—a presence... A third person in the small room with you and Young-il.
A man stood against the far wall, panting, sweat forming on his forehead.
Young-il’s stomach coiled.
You weren’t safe yet.
“There’s only room for two,” he said, voice calm, controlled.
The man’s breathing hitched. His wild, panicked eyes darted between you and Young-il, looking for a way out, a way through.
“I—I was here first,” the man stammered. His voice wavered.
Young-il stepped forward, his presence looming, his voice quiet but sharp.
“Get out.”
The man flinched but held his ground. Desperation flickered in his expression, the refusal to accept his fate. “No way,” the other player tried to sound firm, his eyes flickered between the two of you again, desperate. “Please.”
Young-il exhaled sharply. There was no point in wasting words.
In a single, fluid motion, his arm shot out, wrapping around the man’s throat. The struggle was brief. Short-lived. The other player clawed at Young-il's arm, his legs kicking as they slowly slid down against the wall.
A sharp, sickening crack filled the air, final and absolute.
The body went limp against him. Dead weight.
Young-il let go of the body.
His breathing was quickened, but his eyes were steady. His heartbeat calm. He had done this before. Many times. It didn’t shake him. Didn’t bother him.
He looked up at you, and once again, you surprised him.
Because you weren’t shocked. You weren’t even remotely fazed. You stood by the door, blocking it, your eyes locking with his as if you had expected this outcome from the moment you entered and saw the other player. You hadn’t gasped, hadn’t flinched, hadn’t looked at him like he just committed some great treason.
You had simply accepted it as fast as it came.
And that—that sent something twisting inside him in a way he didn’t fully understand.
He had seen it in the way you moved, in the way you made decisions without hesitation. He had seen it in the way you had broken that man’s leg without a second thought, in the way you had looked at him after—assessing, calculating, but never afraid.
And now, in the quiet aftermath of the kill, you weren’t recoiling from him either.
No.
You were simply watching.
Like you had known all along exactly what he was capable of. And you didn’t care.
That sent a strange, sharp feeling through him. A curiosity. An understanding.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The doors locked with a click as the timer ran out, the sound of gunshots filled the air, the distant screams beyond the door fading as the game ended.
Finally, he exhaled, his fingers twitching at his side.
“We’re alive,” he said, voice steady. You just gave him a nod, turning your back to him as you looked to the chaos outside through the small space on the door.
Young-il rested against the wall, his mind processing all that had happened.
Then, his lips curled, a soft smirk that you couldn’t see.
#hwang in ho#hwang in ho x reader#squid game#hwang in ho x you#hwang in ho x y/n#hwang inho#hwang inho x reader#the frontman#squid game fanfic#squid game fic#squid game imagine#squid game x y/n#squid game season 2#squid game x reader#squid game x you#player 001#young il#young il x reader#squid game front man#young il x you#player 001 x reader
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔; min ho
summary: in this intense romance, y/n and min ho, both struggling with fear and hesitation, confront their undeniable chemistry in a private moment that leads to a passionate kiss, marking the beginning of an emotionally charged relationship as they finally embrace what they’ve both been too afraid to admit. (pt. 2 to roses)
warnings: mention of making out
word count: 2120
AS YOU WATCHED MIN HO WALK OUT YOU HAD ONE OF TWO DECISIONS TO MAKE !
you weren't going to let him walk away this time.
the second min ho stepped out of the dorm, you were already on your feet, heart pounding in your chest.
before you could even second-guess yourself, you were chasing after him.
he felt it.
you knew he did.
and if you didn't confront it now, it was going to drive you mad.
"min ho," you called out.
he didn't stop.
you quickened your pace, frustration creeping in. "min ho—"
"go back inside, y/n." his voice was cold, clipped, nothing like it had been just minutes ago.
no.
you weren't going to let him shut down on you.
you grabbed his wrist, gripping it tightly. "no."
he turned to face you, his expression unreadable. "what?"
you glanced around, heart pounding in your ears.
the hallway was too open, too exposed. anyone could hear you, and you needed privacy.
without thinking, you yanked him toward the nearest supply closet, flinging the door open and shoving him inside.
"y/n—"
before he could protest, you slipped in after him and slammed the door shut.
darkness.
the only light was a faint sliver from the hallway, barely illuminating the cramped space. shelves lined one wall, stocked with blankets and cleaning supplies.
it was too intimate, too close—but you didn't care.
min ho exhaled sharply, leaning back against the door. "are you serious?"
"yes," you snapped, your chest heaving. "because we need to talk."
"there's nothing to talk about." his voice was forced, his body tense.
you stepped closer, the confined space leaving barely any room between you. "bullshit."
min ho inhaled sharply as you moved into his space, your chin tilting up to glare at him.
his adam's apple bobbed, lips parted as if he was about to say something—before they pressed into a firm line.
"you don't get to just say all that," you continued, your voice trembling slightly, "and then walk away."
his jaw clenched. "i didn't leave—"
"yes, you did!" your frustration boiled over. "you dropped that confession like a bomb, and then walked away like it meant nothing."
his eyes darkened. "isn't that what you wanted?"
you froze.
min ho let out a humorless laugh. "you weren't exactly jumping at the chance to say anything back, y/n."
you swallowed hard, pulse racing. "because i—i didn't know what to say."
min ho scoffed, shaking his head. "right."
you wanted to hit him. or kiss him. or both.
instead, you shoved at his chest, frustration burning through you. "you can't just drop something like that on me, min ho! you can't look at me like that and—"
"like what?" he challenged, stepping forward.
you instinctively backed up, the shelves pressing against your back.
min ho moved closer, his hands bracing against the wood on either side of your head, trapping you in.
your breath caught.
"like what, y/n?" his voice dropped, rough and dangerous. his scent—clean, warm, unmistakably him—wrapped around you, clouding your thoughts.
you swallowed hard, fingers trembling. "like—like you want me."
his lips parted, a sharp inhale escaping him.
then, ever so slightly, he leaned in.
"maybe that's because i do."
your entire body locked up.
min ho's gaze flickered to your lips, lingering there for a heartbeat too long.
the air between you was charged, thick with something neither of you could fight anymore.
you exhaled shakily, every nerve in your body heightened by how close he was, how easily he could close the space between you.
"say something," he murmured. his voice was softer now, almost vulnerable.
you licked your lips, heart racing. "i don't know how."
min ho's brows furrowed, his breath uneven. "then tell me to leave."
your hands clenched into fists.
"tell me you don't want this," he challenged, lips barely an inch from yours. "tell me, and i swear i'll go."
but you couldn't.
because it would be a lie.
and from the way min ho's expression shifted—the way his eyes searched yours, desperate, hopeful—he already knew.
you sucked in a shaky breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. "min ho..."
his fingers twitched against the shelf, like he was using every ounce of restraint not to touch you. "tell me, y/n."
instead, you reached for him.
fingers curling into his hoodie, your voice barely a whisper.
"don't go."
min ho let out a shaky exhale—and then he moved.
one moment, you were standing there, every nerve in your body on edge, and the next—
his hands cupped your face, warm and firm, tilting your head up. his lips hovered over yours, so close you could feel his breath ghosting over your skin.
but he didn't kiss you.
not yet.
instead, he rested his forehead against yours, fingers tightening around your jaw like he was still waiting for permission, still waiting for you.
your breath stuttered.
your hands fisted into his hoodie, grounding yourself, confirming he was real.
"are you going to run away again?" you whispered, voice barely steady.
min ho let out a breathless laugh, his thumb brushing against your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine.
"not a chance."
and then—finally—he kissed you.
the kiss was everything and nothing like you expected.
min ho's lips were soft, but his kiss wasn't. it was desperate, like he'd been holding this in for far too long, like he was afraid you'd slip through his fingers if he didn't act now.
your hands tightened in his hoodie, your body instinctively pressing into his. he let out a frustrated exhale against your lips—like he wanted more but was holding himself back.
the tension snapped.
but just as quickly as it started, you pulled away.
your chest heaved, lips tingling, your heart a mess.
min ho's eyes were heavy-lidded, his breathing ragged as he stared at you like you'd just turned his world upside down.
maybe you had.
you swallowed, voice barely a whisper. "we... shouldn't have done that."
min ho's expression flickered—just a moment, just enough for you to notice—before his usual mask slipped back into place.
"right," he muttered, stepping back, jaw tightening. "of course."
your stomach twisted.
you didn't mean it.
not really.
but panic surged through you.
this was min ho—the same min ho who had spent months teasing you, acting like you were just a nuisance in his life.
now he was kissing you like he needed you?
it didn't make sense.
min ho scoffed, shaking his head. "i should've seen this coming."
your eyes snapped to him, heart still racing. "what the hell does that mean?"
"it means," he said, voice sharp, "that i was dumb enough to think—maybe—you felt the same way."
his words knocked the air from your lungs.
you opened your mouth, but no sound came out.
wasn't that the problem? that you did feel the same way? that you didn't know what to do with it?
"i—"
min ho scoffed again. "save it, y/n."
he turned for the door, reaching for the handle.
panic surged through you. "wait—"
min ho froze, his back still to you.
you inhaled sharply. "you can't just... walk away."
"why not?" his voice was cold now, distant, the exact opposite of the min ho who had held you like you were fragile just moments ago.
you hesitated. "because i—"
you what?
liked him? wanted him? needed him?
min ho exhaled sharply. "that's what i thought."
and then he was gone, slipping through the door, leaving you standing in the cramped closet, your heart still thundering.
the second min ho walked out, something inside you snapped.
you couldn't let him leave. not like this.
your heart was still racing, your lips still tingling from his kiss, his touch, the way he'd held you like you mattered. now, because of your own fear, he was walking away.
before you could talk yourself out of it, you blurted it out.
"i want you."
min ho froze.
the words hung in the air, heavy and irreversible.
seconds felt like hours.
slowly, min ho turned.
his expression was unreadable, lips parted, eyes locking onto yours with a intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
"what did you say?" his voice was barely a whisper, unsure if he'd imagined it.
your throat went dry.
but you couldn't back down now.
"i want you, min ho."
something flickered in his expression—dangerous, unguarded.
min ho sucked in a slow breath, stepping forward, and suddenly the distance between you disappeared.
"say it again," he murmured, voice rougher.
you swallowed, your chest tight, aware of how close he was. "i want you, min ho moon."
min ho's jaw tightened, fingers twitching like he was fighting the urge to pull you into him. "then why the hell did you act like you didn't?"
you exhaled shakily. "because i was scared."
his eyes darkened. "of what?"
"of this." you gestured between you, frustration creeping into your voice. "of us. of what it means."
min ho let out a bitter laugh. "you think i'm not scared?"
you blinked.
he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. "you drive me insane, y/n. i've spent so much time pretending i didn't care, pushing it down... but it never stops. i see you, and suddenly, i can't think straight."
your breath hitched.
min ho stepped closer, voice quieter, more vulnerable. "so yeah, i'm scared, too. but the difference is—i want this. i want you. if you feel the same way, you need to stop running."
your heart pounded.
because he was right.
you'd spent so much time fighting this, fighting him, when the truth had been staring you in the face all along.
you didn't just want min ho.
you needed him.
so, finally, you stopped thinking.
you grabbed his hoodie, pulled him down, and kissed him like your life depended on it.
min ho let out a sharp breath, surprised, but the moment your lips met his, all hesitation vanished.
his hands immediately found your waist, pulling you closer like he couldn't bear the distance between you.
the kiss was desperate, frantic, like he was trying to make up for lost time.
his fingers curled into your shirt as if needing something to hold onto.
when you pulled away, breathless and lightheaded, min ho rested his forehead against yours.
"say it one more time," he murmured, voice low and wrecked.
you smiled, hands still gripping his hoodie.
"i want you."
and this time, there was no hesitation.
the world outside that closet didn't matter anymore.
it was only min ho, and only you.
your heart still raced, every nerve alive with anticipation.
his fingers tangled in your shirt, pulling you closer, and for the first time, you weren't scared. you weren't questioning yourself.
this was real.
this was happening.
min ho's lips were on yours again, deeper this time, urgent, like you were both absorbing every ounce of this moment you'd both been too afraid to face.
his mouth moved against yours with a raw, desperate hunger.
and you kissed him back just as fiercely, hands trailing up to his neck, pulling him closer, feeling the heat of his body against yours.
his hands slipped under your shirt, caressing your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine.
you gasped into the kiss, your stomach flipping with every touch.
min ho deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours, asking for permission you didn't hesitate to give.
you opened up to him, and the moment his tongue met yours, everything else disappeared.
it was just him.
just you.
he pulled you into him, backing you against the shelves, trapping you between the cold wood and his warmth. his hands gripped your hips, lifting you, pressing you against him, like he couldn't get close enough.
his lips trailed down your neck, and you gasped softly, tilting your head back as his kisses marked your skin.
"min ho..." you whispered his name like a prayer, tugging him back to your lips.
the kiss deepened, more frantic, desperate, because you both knew this moment would change everything.
you felt his heart pounding against yours, felt how desperately you both needed this.
finally, when you pulled apart, breathless and dazed, min ho pressed his forehead against yours, his hand cupping your cheek, as if to reassure himself this was real.
"be mine, y/n," he murmured, voice rough. "i don’t want to let you go."
you smiled. "you’re mine."
and with that, words no longer mattered.
you both knew what came next.
“happy valentine’s.” you whispered to min ho before going back into his dorm to talk to kitty.
a/n !
HAI! i’m gonna be so real i never planned on making a pt 2 but since i saw some ppl liked it i decided to write an update.
i hope its good because most pt 2s aren’t but hopefully!! please like, comment, and repost! ilysm 😻 - xoxo, nova
tags: @munsonsquinn | @bluesmithereens
#Spotify#min ho x reader#min ho moon#min ho#xo kitty#kitty song covey#netflix#valentines day#valentine#making out#kissing#part 2#all i really want is you#roses#sang heon lee#anna cathcart#y/n l/n#y/n#to all the boys i've loved before#enemies to lovers#south korea#seoul#kiss#xokitty#tumblr fyp#fanfic#fanfiction#fem reader#diorsdolliest#nova writes
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“Could he make you feel as good as i do?” prompt for Sonny? Thank you! 🩷
Disclaimer: I wrote it as a sequel to my previous prompt because I was still inspired by it. also, its smutty
The sun is high in the sky when you wake up. It must be around noon already but considering the night you’ve had, it’s not surprising. You try to blink the sleep out of your eyes, and looking down at your left hand you feel a surge of guilt in your stomach. Even though you know you’ve made the right decision, he never deserved this. He never deserved the hurt you caused him last night. On what should have been one of the happiest days of his life.
As Sonny tightens his arms around you in his sleep, the negative feelings are replaced by the overwhelming flutter of the clichéd butterflies; something you had always rolled your eyes at; thought of as overrated. And yet. When you left the party after that horrific but necessary conversation with your now ex-fiancé, when you ended up running as fast as your heels would allow it, when you knocked on Sonny’s door with dread, afraid that he would tell you to fuck off and reject him like you had him earlier. However in that moment he opened the door, surprised yet as if he had expected you - that was when the butterflies became real.
You snuggle into him; his warm body feels so unfamiliar still, yet like a home that is welcoming you. His scent, so heavenly, you want to wrap yourself up in it, and you surely try as you press your face into his chest while your legs wrap around his under the blanket. Sonny sighs, holding you even closer and placing a kiss onto your forehead. There’s so much to say, so much to talk about but neither of you have been able to put it into words just yet. Even last night all you managed to say was a tearful ‘I’m sorry’ followed by his many ‘It’s okay’, followed by even more tears and kisses before you ended up in his bed, fully clothed.
These clothes are in the way now. Your hand wanders underneath his shirt, and you can feel him shiver in response to your touch. This is the first time you’ve been this close and sober; that drunken night spent together an exciting yet blurry memory of lust and urgency. Now the need to make him yours isn’t any less desperate but you aren’t in a rush, both of you knowing that this is right; that this is you two together from now on.
Your lips meet; a soft kiss that soon turns more intense as you press your body closer to his and it doesn’t take long before his hands find the zipper of your dress while you manage to shove his shirt over his head. You’re finally skin on skin. It’s kind of crazy how quickly you feel yourself getting wet, especially since you can feel his body having a similar reaction; and you both smile into the kiss, a slight blush on your faces.
‘I love you.’ Sonny whispers, the first words spoken since last night, and the fact that it’s those three words makes you dizzy.
‘I love you.’ you don’t hesitate for one second because the truth is, you’ve always loved him.
You continue to undress each other and it feels like everything is happening in slow-motion. Yet all of a sudden he flips you onto your back and covers you with his body, making you giggle with anticipation. Sonny’s body feels so good, and you know you’re going to have trouble prying yourself away from him in the future. You want him so much. You know you’re going to want him all the time. How you’ve ever denied yourself of him, you do not know.
His lips leave yours and kiss all over your face before wandering down your neck, lingering there as you moan at the contact. Instinctively, your arms wrap around him; hands all over his strong back tracing the muscles there, finger’s digging into his skin as you feel his mouth continue. He is for sure leaving a mark on your collarbone as he sucks on the delicate skin there. That’s right, let them see. Let them see I’m yours. All yours. You sigh his name at the thought, sigh his name again as his mouth finds your breast, sigh his name over and over as he scoots down your body, his lips stopping at the waistband of your panties.
‘Dominick…’ your eyes are closed but you can feel him smile against your skin and he looks up at you as you open them.
‘Can I?’ he asks and you have to control yourself in order to not nod too enthusiastically. His smile grows even bigger.
He pulls your panties off slowly before flinging them across the room, making you laugh.
‘You’re beautiful.’ he says, pushing your legs apart gently, exposing your wetness, and turning your laughter into a shy giggle.
All of that shyness is forgotten as his long, tender fingers brush over your folds, making you shudder. His lips are back on your skin, kissing the inside of your trembling thighs, inching closer to your core until you feel the flick of his tongue on your clit, sending an electric current throughout your entire body.
‘More?’ Sonny asks sheepishly as his fingers continue to stroke you.
‘More. Yes. Please.’ you reply, biting your lips.
And he gives you so much more. Oh, much much more. Soon, you’re a panting mess, your hands in his hair, tugging desperately while he eats you out. Dominick’s expert mouth is all over your pussy; sucking, licking, teasing as though he has been waiting his entire life for it. Come to think of it, it turns out you have, too. No man has ever gotten you this close to an orgasm in such a short amount of time. Your eyes meet as he fucks you with his tongue, delving into you, his thumb on your swollen nub. He knows you’re close.
‘Please.’ you beg again. ‘Please, Dominick.’
He withdraws his mouth, letting his fingers continue by slipping into you, curling over your g spot, almost sending you over the edge.
‘Do you want me to stop?’ he asks and you shake your head before nodding instead.
‘I want to be yours. All yours. And I want you to be mine. All mine.’ you answer, pulling softly on his hair. He understands.
And within a heartbeat he sits up, his hands are on your waist, and he pulls you up toward him; you can only whine in response to his hesitation before he buries himself into you with a slow but firm thrust. Fuck. You arch your back at the sensation of him filling you up, stretching your already sensitive sex to a point of blinding pleasure.
‘Oh my god!’ you cry out, giving yourself over to him completely.
��Could he make you feel as good as I do?’ Sonny breathes, pulling back just to push into you again, deliberately hitting that spot inside you.
You shudder, hands grabbing at the sheets and at him. Truth be told no one has ever made you feel as good. As loved. As exposed. As vulnerable. As powerful. As sexy.
‘No. And every time I was with him, I thought about you. I thought about our night together. And I’d cum, thinking about you.’ you admit, your voice shaking.
He pulls you up so you’re in his lap, and kisses you deeply. His tongue slips into your mouth and you can still taste yourself on him, and your hands are all over him while he holds you, your hips pushing down harder against his thrusts.
‘Cum for me now.’ Sonny purrs in your ear, his cock twitching inside you. He’s close too.
You can’t hold back even if you wanted to. Sinking into his arms your orgasm washes over you, and it’s earth-shattering. Nothing on your mind except him. Dominick.
And it turns out there will be a ring on your finger again in no time. This time forever.
prompt requests
#svu#sonny carisi#dominick carisi#law and order svu#sonny carisi x reader#dominick carisi x reader#carisi x reader
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Grant could feel the weight of Stella's words pressing against his chest, each one a raw, trembling confession. The look in her eyes—torn between fear and the flicker of something like hope—made his heart ache. She had been through so much, endured more than anyone should ever have to, and yet she was still standing, still fighting for the chance at something better. When she asked him to promise, his voice was steady, unwavering. He didn’t hesitate. "I promise," he said, the words carrying a depth of certainty that he hoped could reach her, offering her some measure of comfort. He meant it with everything he had. The tremble in her voice when she spoke of Trevor chilled him to his core. He wanted to say something to erase that fear, to make it go away. But he knew it wasn’t that simple. All he could do was hold her, offer her the strength she needed. When she spoke about the countless times she had wanted to call for help but couldn’t, it shattered something inside him. The pain in her words, the years of silence and terror, weighed heavy on his heart. Grant noticed Stella flinching - knowing it wasn't him. Just instinct. She wasn’t alone anymore. He couldn’t guarantee that Trevor wouldn’t come looking for her, but he would damn well make sure that she didn’t have to face him alone. As she thanked him, the rawness in her voice struck him hard. The gratitude was overwhelming, but it also hurt because it was tied to the pain she had suffered. Grant didn’t know how to respond to that. How could he, when everything she’d been through had been so unfair, so cruel? All he could do was nod, his throat tight. "You don’t need to thank me," he murmured. When they climbed into the car, he could see her trying to pull herself together, her shoulders shaking, scared, frightened. His heart ached for her, but he didn’t push. He just let her be. He couldn’t take the pain away, but he could be there, right beside her, offering his presence as a steady, unspoken promise. He didn't reach out to touch again. His attention, however, did turn towards the girl next to him. He didn’t have the perfect words to make everything better. He couldn’t promise that it would be easy or that the road ahead would be without its challenges. But he would be there for her, every step of the way, until she found that peace. "You'll finally have some peace at mine. It's your resting spot for however long you need it." His gaze softened as he watched her. He understood the depth of her pain, the longing for peace that had been denied to her for so long. "And I’ll be here with you, every step of the way. You don’t have to fight for it alone anymore."
"you don't have to go through this alone." those words echoed in her mind, a promise she had never heard before—not truly. for years, she had been surviving, or at least trying to. but surviving wasn’t living, not when she’d been trapped in that hell with trevor. now, for the first time, stella felt like she could see a faint light at the end of the tunnel. maybe she was going to make it. maybe she could survive after all. “you promise?” she asked, the words tumbling from her lips before she could even think. her voice was shaky, raw with fear and hope tangled together. she was terrified. she needed grant. without him, she was certain she was doomed. he was going to save her—he had to. but the idea that someone was willing to help her, to care for her, felt almost too good to be true. she had spent so long believing she was worthless, a burden, just another problem for someone else to deal with. she felt so small, so scared. when he promised that she wouldn’t lose him, she nodded, hesitant but desperate to believe him. she had to believe. the thought of trevor finding her sent ice through her veins. “i want him far away from me,” she whispered. “you don’t know how many times i wanted to call for help. but… if he found out, i’d be dead.” her voice cracked, her words heavy with the weight of years of fear. “i didn’t want this. when i started dating him, i really thought he cared about me,” she cried, the confession spilling out before she could stop it. she didn’t even know why she was telling him, but she needed him to understand. when grant told her she didn’t have to thank him, she shook her head, her voice breaking. “no… i have to thank you. you saved me. you’ve saved me from being beaten at home. you’ve saved me,” she sobbed, her heart cracking under the weight of everything she was feeling. the fear of stepping outside was paralyzing. what if someone saw her? what if trevor found her? what if he saw her with grant? she could already picture the chaos that would follow. as he agreed to give her his jacket, she whispered a soft, trembling “thank you.” when he wrapped it around her shoulders, her eyes stayed downcast. she couldn’t bring herself to look up at him. she felt so small, so fragile. slipping her hands into the oversized sleeves, she rolled them up slightly. the jacket was far too big for her, but it felt like a shield, something to protect her from the outside world. she didn’t feel ready—not even close. but she knew that if she didn’t leave now, she never would. and staying meant going back to trevor, and she couldn’t survive that again. as grant’s hand tightened around hers, she flinched instinctively, her eyes squeezing shut as she braced for the worst. it wasn’t that she was scared of grant; it was just her reflex now. “sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she pulled away slightly, drying the tear that slipped down her cheek. “okay,” she said softly, nodding more to herself than to him. the gentle trace of his thumb across the back of her hand made her let out a shaky sigh, though she wasn’t even sure what it was—relief, maybe. “okay,” she repeated, still unsure of what else to say. she was overwhelmed by gratitude, but there were no words that could capture the depth of it. as they walked to his car, she climbed in quickly, pulling the jacket’s hood over her head and tucking her hands back into the long sleeves. she sat there, silent, her head bowed as quiet sobs shook her shoulders. “i—i…” she began, her voice breaking, “i just want to be at peace.” she whispered the words, barely able to get them out. it was the truth, the only thing she knew for sure. she just wanted peace.
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In no universe should Louis de Pointe du Lac be lighting his own cigarettes❗️
#we used to be a proper country!#so the final gif is so long because it looks like he out of instinct dipped his head and then had to fumble for his own lighter :(#I just learned how to make gifs today so i could do this#they're not great but i couldn't care less i'm in a fugue state#louis de pointe du lac#interview with the vampire#jacob anderson#loustat#loumand#s2#iwtv spoilers#vcsource#lestat de lioncourt#iwtvedit#portraitoflestatonfire#max.gif
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Say Yes to Heaven
[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Sometimes all it takes is one look. One gesture. One word. One action. To remind them that not everyone sees them the same, and It's enough to send a person over the edge.
WC: 3690
Category: Fluff, First Kiss, Logan’s POV
Another Grumpy!Logan x Sunshine!Reader because it’s my comfort trope ✨🫶
『••✎••』
He never realized how much he wanted someone to care for.
It was something he didn't know he desired. A year ago, he didn't care for a single thing. He felt nothing. He was so numb. So empty.
He was an angry man. The kind of man people kept their distance from. Wade ruined that; he aggravated him so much that Logan started actually caring about his life. And for as much as he despised his fugly ass, he was internally grateful for him. He started to open up more and more.
Wade had a part in taking him out of rock bottom, as they say, but you… you aggravated him in the most endearing way possible. You were so bright, so happy, and full of life. Logan couldn't understand how someone could be like that, and he hated you for it. He thought it was so ignorant of you.
"I mean, come on, how could she be that happy all the time? It's fucking dumb. She doesn't even know me!"
That's what he said to Wade, but his roommate only laughed. He found his frustration hilarious and made fun of him constantly.
And don’t even get started on the way you spoke. Never once have you raised your voice at anyone. You always talked softly, and even if you were pissed off, you still found a way to make your words sound gentle.
The man couldn’t wrap his mind around the way you acted, you weren’t a mutant, but you damn well could have been with that forever customer service smile you wore every day.
The level of patience and understanding you held for people was insane to him, especially the amount of patience you held with him.
He was constantly telling you to fuck off, and you took no offense; you just returned that stupidly kind smile and told him that if he needed anything, you were there for him.
You had no clue what he’s done, what he's capable of, and yet you treat him with the utmost respect. And being a mutant, respect, and kindness were two things he hadn’t received in a very long time.
It made him realize things—about himself and others. He started noticing you a little more—the way you looked and the way you acted. It started out as simple confusion and disgust… the typical reactions one would have when one sees an overly happy person.
But it evolved slowly into intrigue and curiosity.
Then something else. Something he couldn't describe.
His first instinct was to push it away. To try and convince himself, he was disgusted. He did this with everything he felt, but he couldn’t keep lying to himself.
It wasn't disgust.
He couldn't name it; he wasn't ready to, but he knew it wasn’t that.
Wade had noticed the change in him, the way he looked at you, the way he started being a little less rough with the words he chose to say. He didn’t bring it up, but the shit-eating grin he gave each time Logan walked in and saw you was more than enough proof that he had picked up on it.
Of course, it only resorted to grins because the one time he opened his mouth, Logan didn’t restrain himself. He popped his claws and had to go couch shopping the next day.
Whoops.
So, with Wade keeping his mouth shut after being chewed out by Blind Al and Logan trying his best to push away the foreign feelings, it finally reached a point where he could no longer ignore them.
He didn’t understand why, of all nights, it had to be this one, but it was.
It was 3 am, and his old nightmares had come back to haunt him. He was restless, sweaty, and couldn't take another second of sleep.
It took a rinsing of the bathroom sink and a pitiful glare at his reflection for you to return his gaze.
He froze for a second.
You were wearing a large T-shirt, with a pair of shorts underneath. Your hair was messy, but it looked so soft, and your face was clear of makeup, leaving the imperfections of your skin that made you all the more beautiful.
Always wearing a smile. Always greeting him with a soft voice, sometimes a little raspy if just waking up, butnonetheless soft.
But once he rubbed his eyes and let out a tired yawn, you weren’t there anymore.
Because you were never there, you lived across the street. You were in your apartment, sleeping, with no idea that, at that moment, the man who constantly told you to fuck off realized he couldn't stop thinking about you.
The same man who would grunt, scoff, and throw away every kind gesture now realized he secretly cherished them.
He stood there for a moment, just pondering his thoughts. His eyes were still on the spot he saw you in.
His head turned to the right, seeing the digital clock that rested on the nightstand.
3:02 am.
You were asleep…. most likely asleep. You would be unhappy if he came over and woke you up, wouldn't you?
He looked back at the sink.
You could be upset, but you could also be happy. You could give him that smile. That sweet, warm smile.
It would be worth it, right? Just for that?
3:04 am
He didn’t think about it. Not even for a second. Ironically, it started raining as if to test him, but the man was determined.
He put on a jacket to cover his bare chest, threw on some random shoes, and was out the door before his mind could stop him.
3:13 am
He knocked on your apartment door. He was completely drenched from the rain. His hair was messy, his jacket sticking to his body, and his shoes were so wet that the squelching sound they made was the only thing audible.
He heard shuffling. Soft steps coming closer. He could smell your scent. It shocked him how easy it was for him to recognize it.
You unlocked the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion.
His mental image of you being in sleepwear, messy hair, no makeup, had been confirmed. You were beautiful.
You had a tired look, one of the many looks he wasn’t used to. But it was still a good look, and it still held your signature kindness.
He had a feeling it would.
You didn't look too shocked, just tired and confused.
You spoke. "Logan, is…? Are you okay?"
Your voice was even softer than usual, the raspiness it held only making it more comforting.
You were genuinely worried about him, and it hit him then that he was being an asshole. Making you wake up in the middle of the night, and for what? Just because he wanted to see you?
Just because of that, he should’ve given you a reason. An explanation.
He should've asked. He should have done so many things differently, but he didn’t.
His head was in the clouds, and all he could think about was you.
You. That was all.
But his expression gave away that he was in a daze, and your worry only grew.
"Logan? What's wrong?"
You stepped out into the hallway and reached a hand to him.
His heart jumped a bit when you did so. It was just a gesture—one simple act of compassion.
He wasn't worthy of that, but he couldn't resist. He didn't want to.
Your fingers barely brushed against his upper arm before he moved. He grabbed your wrist.
His grip wasn't hard. His hold was gentle, as he had no intentions of hurting you. You could’ve easily pulled your arm away if you wanted to, but you didn't.
His eyes locked with yours. He wasn't sure what possessed him, but it felt so right, so he followed his instincts.
He tugged at your wrist, causing your body to fall into him. Your chest pressed against his. His arms wrapped around you, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other resting on the small of your back.
The embrace was so sudden, and he knew the situation was far from ideal, but his senses were overflowed by your presence, your scent, your softness.
His chin rested atop your head, and his eyes fluttered closed.
It wasn’t the first time he ever hugged someone, but it was the first time he hugged someone in such a way. He held onto you tightly, his grip possessive but not painful.
He was afraid to let go.
He felt your hands press against his chest. You were probably going to push him away, he thought, and he tried to prepare himself. He told himself he would let you go because it was the right thing to do, yet he didn’t need to.
You hugged him back, and he almost lost his footing.
How long had it been since he last received a hug? Since the last time, someone held him and showed him affection?
Too long.
Your hands went inside his opened jacket and held onto him. Your fingers pressed against his skin, and your soft, warm breaths caressed his neck.
He could stay like this for eternity, and he would never grow tired of it.
Your voice reached his ears.
"Logan, did something happen?"
He had been standing there for quite a while. He wasn’t aware of how long. Time seemed to freeze around you, but he didn’t mind. He wasn't one to believe in such nonsense, but when it came to you, he was ready to accept it.
Your hand rested on his arm, and he knew you were subtly prompting him to move, and so he did.
He pulled away from the hug just enough to look at you.
Your lips were turned upwards. The corners of your eyes creased.
"Logan?"
It was then that his actions registered—how utterly close the two of you were, how intimately you were holding each other. He was already warm just from genetics alone, but now he felt everything around him heat up.
"I-"
He didn't know what to say. It was like he was back in that bar, drinking away every thought. He couldn't think. There was nothing. Nothing but the feel of your body against his.
But what truly sealed the deal was when he felt your thumb gently caress his knuckles. It was a small movement, barely noticeable, but it was centered exactly on the scars his claws made.
That little movement made his brain short-circuit. His hands twitched. His grip tightened. He held onto you with his entire body as if scared to let you go.
"What happened?"
You were patient with him. The fact that he hadn’t even answered any of your concerns said enough.
But, eventually, he did find some words to respond with. It wasn’t the answer you were searching for, but it was a response.
"Why are you always being so fucking kind?"
It was such a simple question, and yet the amount of pain it carried was overwhelming. He knew you could hear every word behind it. Every word he couldn't bring himself to say.
He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good man. He did horrible things, and sure… he made an attempt to make up for it. To be better, but it couldn’t have been enough, could it?
You were still here, looking at him with those soft eyes.
Why couldn't you look at him the way he deserved to be looked at? Like he was a monster.
Why did you have to look at him with those goddamn beautiful eyes?
"You deserve kindness, Logan. We all do."
And then, your voice became even softer and a little shaky. Your hands went back to massaging his knuckles. His scars.
"Just because you see yourself a certain way doesn’t mean the rest of us do. I see the good in you. Always have since we first met."
You spoke so softly, yet your words were heavy with emotion.
"I know it's not easy, but try to have a little more faith in yourself."
You didn’t deserve the harsh words he always threw at you. You didn’t deserve any of his anger. You didn't deserve him.
"Why?" He repeated his question, his voice strained, and you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched. "Why should I?"
His arms loosened their hold around you; his hands moved down your sides, and his touch feathered light. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he couldn’t quite let go just yet.
You paid it no mind. Only staring back into his eyes with the same kindness he was so used to, the one he had grown to treasure.
"You have a right to feel the way you do, Logan. And I can't claim to understand what you've been through. I can't begin to imagine. But you are a good man. A little rough around the edges, maybe, but you’ve shown me time and time again that you're trying."
A smile crept its way onto your face, and a soft giggle escaped past your lips.
Now, to be fair, he was used to hearing your laughter. With your… odd sense of humor, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. But, this would be one of the firsts to add to his collection.
The one reserved for him and him only.
Your laughter wasn’t loud, or annoying, or anything like Wade's. It was soft, sweet, and oh-so pleasant.
You were looking at him. Staring up at him with such love and warmth. You didn't even realize it, but he did.
"Besides, who wouldn't be a little grouchy waking up to that handsome face every morning?"
And, now, he was repulsed by the unwelcome vision of a certain masked man making his way into his head. He was so disgusted by the thought he didn’t bother responding. He didn't want to.
So, instead, he moved.
He had a habit of moving on his own and not thinking about it. It went from his hands going to your sides, and now, his hands reaching out to press against the door behind you.
You were pinned against the door, and the way you looked at him didn’t change. Of course, it didn't. Your eyes were always kind. They always were.
You were leaning against the door. Looking at him, waiting.
And he stared back.
He was so close, and he was tempted to pull away. To take a step back and leave. It would be the best for both of you; at least, he thinks so.
He couldn't give you anything.
He had nothing.
There was only himself. His body. His mind. His past.
His claws, too, if that counted for anything.
But, besides those, there was nothing.
He wasn’t a bad man, but he wasn't good either. Not like you were. He couldn’t possibly begin to match you, not even if he tried.
Which is why he had no intention of trying.
Yet, even as he thought that, his body moved even closer. The dog tags he had never taken off since he was given them hung loosely, dangling in front of your face.
One of your hands was on his chest, the other gripping onto the material of his shirt.
"Logan."
You spoke his name so softly. Almost a whisper, and yet, the sound of it was all his senses were focused on.
Your gaze shifted between his eyes and lips, and the hand that had been holding onto his shirt moved, reaching up to his shoulder.
The touch was light, as if hesitant, and it caused him to lean even closer.
It was so close. You were so close. You had been before, but never like this. Never in the way he wanted.
He wanted you so badly.
And you were right there. Looking at him with those eyes, with a soft, tender smile, and with an expression he didn't recognize.
He knew that was an invitation. You were always an open book, and your body language was no different.
And it wasn't the first time you did so.
There were many times when you looked at him. Your eyes trailing over his face. Your gaze went downwards, lingering before you snapped out of it and looked away.
He always saw it, always knew it was there, but he just chose to ignore it. He wasn’t in the right mind, then. He was just another broken man, struggling to get by, trying his best.
Trying to find some meaning in his life.
But, even now, he was still hesitant. Even after coming all the way here and making his intentions clear, he struggled with it.
"Are you sure?"
Because you were so much better than him.
Because he could still remember the day the two of you met. How much of an asshole he was, how rude, how angry.
It wasn’t until the seventh time you approached him that he realized that he had met someone who genuinely, wholeheartedly cared.
It wasn't until the twentieth time you approached him that he finally accepted it.
He could never forget the way you smiled and spoke to him, even though he had given you no reason to.
"Hi, Logan!"
You would say.
"Good morning!"
You would wave.
"Have a nice day, Logan."
You would nod, even though the man himself chose to ignore you. Goddamn it. You were so much better than him.
Much purer. Much more innocent.
You had a heart of gold, and a soul as white as snow. You were so good, so kind, and the thought of soiling you, of ruining your light with his darkness, it scared him.
It was the sole reason he didn't give in, even now, with you offering yourself to him.
He didn't want to ruin you.
"Yes."
No hesitation. No second thoughts.
Your eyes were so kind. So full of love, and the same emotion reflected back in his own.
But, even with the clear sign of assurance, he still felt the need to create one last line of defense.
With the hand against the door, he peeled it back enough to have your eyes catch sight of the fist it made.
In a millisecond, he unleashed his claws and slammed his fist against the door, the sharp adamantium easily slicing through the wood, causing the door to crack.
And, yet, no reaction. Not a single flinch, not a wince, not even a hitch of breath.
You weren't afraid. Not at all. Even as the claws were mere inches from your face, you weren't scared.
The corners of your mouth twitched. Upwards, and it soon bloomed into a bright smile.
He retracted his claws, and gave you another once-over, just to be sure, and you responded by lifting your hand, grasping the metal chain hanging from his neck.
Your fingers grazed against the cool metal, and your smile softened before turning into a small grin.
"For a man who states he isn’t scared of anything, you sure have a lot of defense mechanisms, Logan."
Teasing. That was a new one for you.
He liked it.
"Say it again." Now, finally, you showed a different expression. Confusion mixed with curiosity. You were wondering what he meant. "My name."
"Logan."
For you, his actions were mere seconds. You had no time to process the feeling of his breath against your lips. The feeling of his stubble tickling your skin. The feeling of his warm, dry lips pressed against yours.
But, for him, it was a slow, steady motion. He took his time. He pulled you closer, his hands moving from the door and cupping the back of your head and your waist.
The kiss was soft. Gentle. Nothing rushed.
He held you like you were fragile. Like you were made of porcelain and could break at any moment. He could, theoretically, but he would rather go through Cassandra’s entire repertoire of torture than hurt you.
He lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck, his own pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin.
You tasted exactly how you were. Pure. Sweet.
Like heaven.
He was sure he was leaving that of the bitter alcohol he had downed on your lips, but you didn't seem fussy about it.
Not that he could focus on anything else, anyway.
He was too distracted by the way his tongue danced with yours.
Too focused on the taste of your mouth.
Too distracted by the way your hands made themselves a home in his wet hair. They would tug every once in a while, releasing a groan he hadn’t known was there.
He was too distracted to care.
He was too lost in your scent. Wade always called him that character from that shity vampire movie due to his nose.
He always disagreed until you happened to mention the resemblance. Then, and only then, did he see the logic.
And you saw the logic here, too—the logic of how good you melted together. Experiencing it now made him question his decision to stay away.
If it was always going to be this good, this intoxicating, he should’ve done it a long time ago.
He should've taken the chance.
It would've saved the two of you a lot of frustration, and a lot of headaches.
But it didn't matter. He was here now.
And, as his foot broke into the door, mouth still latched onto yours, with him figuring his way about your apartment, he thought:
It doesn't matter.
As long as I’m here.
As long as you’re in my arms.
It doesn't matter.
Fortunately, that meant he didn’t have to wake up to that toupee-stapled face every morning, as he had so dreadfully imagined.
Unfortunately, it also meant that the next time he saw Wade, he would have to deal with him talking his ears off about what had transpired.
But, for now, he could live with that.
He was more focused on the fact on making sure you weren’t regretting your choice.
Because he sure as fuck didn’t.
#logan howlett#wolverine#deadpool 3#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool#hugh jackman#wolverine x reader#wolverine fic#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett xmen#xmen#xmen fanfiction#xmen fandom#xmen x reader#marvel#marvel fic#marvel fandom#wolverine imagine#wolverine drabble#marvel x reader#x reader#reader#fluff#hugh jackman x reader#deadpool x reader#the worst wolverine#first kiss#mcu x reader#wolverine deadpool
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Is Octavia afraid of Stella?
This brief scene of them together in Mastermind confirmed for many of us something we’d long suspected—that Stella is not close with nor very maternal towards Octavia. But after watching this a few times, I think it might go even deeper than that. I think there are subtle hints that Octavia might actually be afraid of her.
There is evidence as early as Loo Loo Land that even when Stella was more involved, she may not have been a source of comfort for Octavia.
When baby Octavia is crying for them at the beginning of the episode, Stella says, "You get up," before Stolas sighs and goes to comfort their daughter.
There’s been some debate in the fandom that maybe this exchange was more about “taking turns” than anything else. But the sigh that Stolas gives is clearly a reaction to her response and he is already sitting up before she has even finished her sentence.
I think the implication is that he was going to get up either way and is annoyed that she has no interest in comforting Octavia, whether it be alone or together. The intensity of the sigh may also indicate that this was a regular occurrence at the time.
In the same episode, there is a photo and drawing of just Stolas and Octavia. Then later, in The Circus, we see a another photo of just the two of them.
The only pictures we see that include both Stella and Octavia are family photos with the three of them together. Over the span of 17 years, these are the only two photos that seem to exist and she is not physically touching nor looking at Octavia in either of them.
In Mastermind, Octavia is clearly very upset, but there's more being shown than just her hesitation to embrace Stella.
When she first runs from the television, Stella swoops in front of her so forcefully that there is a *whoosh* sound effect. Octavia briefly puts her hands up as she comes to a stop, so that they don’t collide.
Then, arms back down at her sides, she stands there for a moment with a look of confusion and concern on her face. At first I assumed that this was her reaction to being blocked from the doorway, but then I realized that they are in Stolas’ palace, where she wouldn’t expect her mother to be in the first place.
But the thing that startled me when I first noticed, happens when Stella reaches out to engulf her in a hug. Octavia's reactive instinct is to raise her hands, palms facing outward, and back away.
Once in Stella's embrace, she then stands there limply until she begins to cry. Only after that does she move to hug Stella back, but even then, there is another moment of hesitation when her arms are halfway up before she finally embraces her back.
It makes sense for her to be startled and confused at first, but seeing her recoil when Stella raises her arms, paints a concerning picture.
To be clear, I don't think it's meant to imply that Stella has actually hit Octavia before. Honestly, if she had, I think we can all agree that Stolas would have absolutely kicked Stella's ass straight out into the stratosphere.
We do know, however, that she has seen Stella be physically violent towards Stolas. While it’s possible that she’s never witnessed them fight previous to his cheating, she was at least exposed to it enough afterwards to be completely unfazed when her mother hurls an imp at him in Loo Loo Land.
So, I suspect that, on some level, she does not feel entirely safe around Stella.
Either way, I think we’re supposed to assume from their exchange that Octavia has likely never been comforted, or possibly even held, by Stella before.
Because the fact remains that, even after finding herself merely in an embrace, she still hesitated to accept comfort from her own mother.
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Jealous Papa to Baby Emi (Kenji Sato x Reader)
Synopsis: Yep. The title is basically the fic. I had so much fun with this that it became a bit longer than my usual drabbles and imagines.
🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷
Kenji Sato would never admit it but you know him well enough to say that he is a very jealous man.
However, right now, you are 100% sure that he would never admit it, especially because his number one source of jealousy is his very own kaiju daughter, Emi.
He is not even discreet in showing it. Watching him opening his secret fridge and pretending to count his coco water but his eyes and mind was never even tuned in on the task he had at hand.
His eyes kept straying to you and Emi while you're teaching her about human things. Scowling, lip pouting, and his body emitting a vibe yelling, “When’s me? I want to be next.”
You do your best not to notice or smile as his scowl deepens, he is so funny when he is like this.
At first, you thought he was jealous of Emi becoming a Mama’s girl.
The baby imitating the way you will put your hand on your hips if she’s being sassy, raising an eyebrow if his Papa overreacts about something, crosses her arm and rolls eyes if she's rebelling and the best of it all, is copying your crossed legs whenever you sit on the floor.
Yet, you found out that you were wrong when he suddenly wrapped his arm around your waist, nestled his face on the crook of your neck and asked, “How about Papa, Mama? When are you going to spend your time with me?”
It took you by surprise. And all his actions for the past few days are starting to make sense. His intense clinginess, to the point that he would find you wherever you are alone and wouldn't stop touching you. The way he wouldn't let go of a chance to have you sitting on his lap. Cuddling to the fullest before the baby wakes up crying. He would pout and grumble whenever you remove his hand from you.
Your mind goes “Ohhhhh” finally putting the puzzle pieces together, of his out of pocket intense change in showing his affection.
But before you could even answer, Emi is already throwing a tantrum because you turned your back on her while she was practicing and showing you her dance.
“Must be hard being so popular.” Professor Sato joked once when Kenji was busy scolding Emi for prying his arms away from you. She is scowling, head held high, as she crosses her arms, not looking at his Papa who is now yelling, “Bad girl! You don't act like that in front of your Papa!”
“It is harder knowing that the supposed to be eldest is the one who is acting like a kid.” You gave out a heartfelt chuckle and replied.
“Oh! For sure. He is used to having all the attention only to himself. He probably didn't expect that his competitor would be her own daughter.” He smiled as you two continued to watch their exchange which started to get hilarious the longer it takes.
“Baby, how about dinner, just the two of us, this weekend?” You asked the moment you caught his eyes, your hand resting on your hips, lips curved with a sly knowing smirk.
At first, he whipped his head down fast, immediately pretending to still be counting, while mouthing “Oooooh! I must have drunk a lot of augh….coco water.”
But when he heard the magic word, his head whipped up so fast and he started walking towards you like a dog being told “Do you want to go out?” by its owner.
“Really?” He asked. Purple eyes practically shining with hope and excitement.
“Yeah. I missed you. We haven't gone out together on a date for a while.” Your smile softened when he instinctively leaned forward on your hand when you reached for him to cup his face with pure longing and affection.
“Emi?”
“Professor Sato and Mina would take care of her for us.” You cannot help the way your heart flutters when you see his boyish grin which makes his whole face glow with happiness.
You swallowed the twinge of guilt in your heart when you realized how much he must have felt left out and neglected by you these past few days.
You promised that this weekend would just be about you two. The both of you will enjoy the time of your lives, alone together as you two watch the sun dips on the horizon, your head resting on his shoulder, back pressed comfortably on his chest, while his arms wrapped around you, and his hand playing with your palm. It will be relaxing and you melt just by imagining it.
Or so you two tried your best to compromise.
When Emi saw the both of you dressed to the nines— the plan was to just tell her to be a good girl and bid her goodbye before leaving, she probably felt something was wrong, and the moment the two of you stepped on the glass elevator, preparing to leave, she screamed and threw the biggest tantrum.
The whole building shook from her roar. Her feet kicked the floor so hard that you swore it felt like there was an earthquake.
You and Kenji tried to console her but she didn't stop until Kenji promised that you two are not going to leave and Mama and Papa are going to have a dinner date with Emi.
As if knowing she had won, the baby kaiju stopped immediately and gave out the biggest smile.
Yep, you had been fooled.
So now you found yourselves at the side of the beach. Sitting in front of each other with a candlelight dinner. The sky is a beautiful mix of red, orange, and yellow as it slowly dips on the horizon. The perfect color and atmosphere for a romantic dinner date by the beach.
Except, beside your table is Emi’s own table with her fish, who was happy and chirpy as she looked around. Just content to be with her Mama and Papa. Cheery to be included.
“Come on now. Stop scowling. You're going to age faster with those deep frowns on your forehead.” Joking, you cupped his cheek, reached out to his forehead, and ran your thumb to the lines formed from frustration wanting to smooth it out.
With a deep sigh, he leaned on your hand and his lips formed a long pout.
“But how about a dinner date with just the two of us?” He grumbled.
“Hmmm…I guess maybe we could do that once Emi grew a bit more.” You smiled.
“That will be too long.” He sighed. Exasperated.
“How about sneaking out whenever she is sleeping or busy watching your games?” You compromised.
“We can do that.” He hummed, grabbed your other hand resting on the table, squeezed and kissed the back of it.
Sensing that your attention is not on her, Emi stood up, and started clapping and dancing to the new dance she learned. Mina instantly played one of her favorite songs.
“Show off. Mama’s mine either way.” You let out a laugh when you heard Kenji speak in a hush tone not wanting the baby girl to hear it and had another of her tantrums.
#aenna fic#kenji sato ultraman rising#kenji sato ultraman#ultraman rising#ultraman#kenji sato fic#kenji sato x you#kenji sato imagine#kenji sato x reader#kenji sato#kenji sato x y/n#ken sato x you#ken sato x y/n#ken sato x reader#ken sato#emi ultraman#jealous kenji sato
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Barcelona Nights | LN4
⋆˙⟡♡ summary ━━━━━━━ YN gets caught masturbating in the hotel room by Lando.
⋆˙⟡♡ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader
⋆˙⟡♡ word count ━━━━━━━ 3.9k
⋆˙⟡♡ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content
The Barcelona air was thick with the hum of engines and the buzz of anticipation. Y/n stood on the balcony of the luxurious hotel suite, her fingers gripping the railing as she watched the city lights flicker to life in the distance. She could still hear the faint roar of the crowd from the circuit, even miles away. Her heart had been racing all day, though not because of the cars—Lando’s presence had a way of doing that to her.
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. Why did I agree to this? she thought, though deep down, she knew the answer. Lando had been persistent, charming, and borderline irresistible since the moment they’d met six months ago. His playful teasing, his unwavering attention, the way his eyes always seemed to find her in a room—it was intoxicating. And yet, she’d kept her feelings locked away, afraid to admit them even to herself.
The sound of the door opening snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned to see Lando stepping inside, his McLaren cap backwards, his face flushed from the day’s events. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm but slightly breathless. “Sorry it took so long. Post-qualifying stuff, you know how it is.”
Y/n nodded, trying to act casual. “No worries. How’d it go?”
He grinned, that familiar sparkle in his eyes. “P2. Not bad, eh? But honestly, I couldn’t wait to get back here.” He walked over, leaning against the balcony railing beside her. “How about you? Enjoying Barcelona?”
“It’s… different,” she admitted, her gaze drifting back to the skyline. “But nice. Thanks for inviting me.”
“Like I’d leave you behind,” he said lightly, nudging her shoulder with his. His touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she quickly looked away, hoping he didn’t notice.
They stood there in comfortable silence for a while, the city’s energy wrapping around them like a blanket. Finally, Lando straightened up. “Listen, I’ve got some media stuff tomorrow morning early, so I’ll probably be out late tonight. You don’t have to wait up for me, yeah?”
She nodded, though a part of her wished he’d stay. “Got it. Don’t let me keep you.”
He hesitated, studying her face as if searching for something. Then, with a soft smile, he said, “Alright. See you later, yeah?”
“Later,” she echoed, watching as he grabbed a few things from the living room before heading out the door. The lock clicked shut behind him, leaving her alone in the spacious suite.
Y/n wandered back into the living room, her mind buzzing with restless energy. She poured herself a glass of wine, sipping it slowly as she tried to calm her nerves. But the more she sat there, the more aware she became of the tension simmering beneath her skin. It had been building for weeks—months, really—and now, alone in this lavish suite, it felt impossible to ignore.
She set the glass down, her fingers trembling slightly as she made her way to her bedroom. The room was large and elegant, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city. She closed the curtains, shutting out the world, and began to undress.
Her hands moved slowly, almost reverently, as she peeled off her clothes and let them fall to the floor. The cool air brushed against her bare skin, sending goosebumps across her body. She climbed onto the bed, her heart pounding as she reached for the dildo she’d packed in her luggage. It wasn’t something she normally brought on trips, but something about being here, in this city, in this suite, had compelled her.
She lay back against the pillows, her breath quickening as she positioned the toy between her legs. The first touch sent a jolt of electricity through her, and she bit her lip to stifle a moan. Her hips arched instinctively, craving more, and soon she was lost in the rhythm, her fingers moving in tandem with the toy.
Her thoughts drifted to Lando—his smile, his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he teased her. She imagined his hands on her body, his lips on her neck, his voice whispering her name. The fantasy consumed her, and soon she was moaning his name aloud, her hips grinding against the toy as her pleasure built.
Unbeknownst to her, Lando had returned to the suite way earlier than expected. He’d intended to grab something he’d forgotten, but the sound of her soft moans stopped him in his tracks. His breath caught, and he froze, his body reacting instantly to the realization of what was happening.
He crept closer to her bedroom, the door slightly ajar, and peered inside. The sight before him was enough to make his knees weak. Y/n was completely naked, her body glistening with sweat as she rode the dildo with abandon. Her breasts bounced with each movement, her face a mask of ecstasy as she whispered his name between gasps.
Lando’s hand instinctively went to his crotch, where he could feel himself hardening at the sight. He wanted to turn away, to give her privacy, but he was rooted to the spot, transfixed by her raw, unfiltered desire.
Then, as if sensing his presence, Y/n’s eyes flew open, locking onto his. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Her movements faltered, and she scrambled to cover herself, her face flushing crimson. “Lando! Oh my god, I—”
He stepped into the room, holding up a hand to stop her. “Don’t,” he said softly, his voice low and husky. “Don’t apologize.”
She stared at him, her chest heaving as she tried to process what was happening. “I-I didn’t think you’d be back so soon,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lando took another step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “Neither did I,” he admitted. “But I’m glad I was.”
Her breath hitched as he approached, his presence filling the room. She could see the hunger in his eyes, the same desire that had been simmering between them for months finally coming to a head.
“You were saying my name,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement and something far more primal. “Care to explain why?”
Y/n’s cheeks burned, but she held his gaze, refusing to back down. “What do you think?”
Lando smirked, closing the distance between them until he was standing at the edge of the bed. “I think,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, “that it’s about time we stopped pretending.”
Her heart raced as he leaned down, his face inches from hers. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, the intensity of his gaze making it impossible to look away.
“Lando…” she breathed, her voice trembling.
He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her lips. “Tell me what you want, Y/n,” he murmured. “Because I’m done waiting.”
Y/n’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath caught somewhere between panic and desire as Lando’s thumb lingered on her lips. His eyes bore into hers, unrelenting, searching for the truth she had buried so deep inside herself. The air between them was charged, electric, and she felt like a single word could ignite everything.
“I…” she started, her voice barely audible, but Lando didn’t let her finish.
“No more hiding,” he said firmly, his hand still cradling her face. “Tell me, Y/n. Tell me what you want.”
Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She swallowed hard, her walls crumbling under the weight of his gaze. “I… I want you,” she whispered, her voice shaking but clear. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Lando. I just… I didn’t think—”
He cut her off with a kiss, soft at first, testing, as if to make sure she meant every word she’d said. But the moment their lips met, something ignited—years of tension, longing, and unspoken feelings exploding in an instant. His other hand found the back of her neck, pulling her closer as his lips moved against hers with a hunger that left her dizzy.
She gasped into his mouth, her hands instinctively gripping his shoulders for balance. He deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers in a way that made her entire body tremble. It was raw, passionate, and utterly consuming. Every thought in her head evaporated, replaced only by the feeling of him—his taste, his warmth, his strength.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless. Lando rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, his breathing ragged. “God, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
“Me too,” she admitted softly, her cheeks flushed. Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, reveling in the roughness of his stubble. “But Lando… we can’t… not now. You have to get to the track again.”
He groaned, dropping his head onto her shoulder. “You’re killing me,” he muttered, his breath warm against her skin. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be to focus tonight knowing you’re here waiting for me?”
The low rumble of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She bit her lip, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you kissed me like that.”
Lando lifted his head, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Oh, trust me, darling, that was just the beginning.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Tonight, I’m going to make sure you forget your own name.”
Her breath hitched, and she felt a rush of heat pooling low in her stomach. She opened her mouth to respond, but he pulled away before she could, stepping back with a look of mock regret.
“Unfortunately,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I really do need to go. But don’t think for a second I’m letting you off the hook.” He winked, backing toward the door. “Be ready for me tonight, Y/n. I expect you to make good on all those fantasies you’ve been having about me.”
Before she could protest or even process what he’d just said, he was gone, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the room. She stared after him, her mind reeling. Did he just…? Yes, he did. A blush crept up her neck as she realized exactly what he’d overheard.
Groaning, she flopped back onto the bed, covering her face with her hands. This is going to be a long night, she thought, her heart still racing from the intensity of his kiss.
---
As the hours dragged on, Y/n found herself restless. She tried to distract herself—took a shower, changed into something comfortable, even attempted to read a book—but nothing could quiet the storm of emotions swirling inside her. Lando’s words echoed in her mind, taunting her, teasing her. Tonight, I’m going to make sure you forget your own name.
Her stomach flipped at the memory, and she found herself wondering just how far he planned to take this. Would he keep teasing her like he always did, or would he finally give in to the undeniable chemistry between them?
By the time the sun began to set, she was a bundle of nerves, pacing the living room of the suite. Every creak of the floorboards made her jump, her anticipation growing with each passing minute. Finally, she heard the sound of a key card being inserted into the lock, and her heart leapt into her throat.
The door swung open, and there he was, looking as unfairly handsome as ever. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his shirt clung to his frame in a way that made her mouth go dry. He smirked when he saw her standing there, frozen in place.
“Waiting for me?” he asked, his voice dripping with amusement as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
She crossed her arms, trying to appear nonchalant despite the way her heart was pounding. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually show up,” she replied, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.
Lando chuckled, setting his bag down by the door before walking toward her. “You really think I’d miss this?” he asked, stopping just inches away from her. His gaze dropped to her lips, and she could feel the heat radiating off his body.
“What?” she challenged, tilting her chin up defiantly. “Got something to prove, Norris?”
His laugh was low and throaty, sending shivers down her spine. “Oh, darling,” he murmured, leaning in so close she could feel his breath on her skin. “I’m going to prove so much more than that.”
Lando stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers as he began to unbutton his shirt. “I’m going to take a shower,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “You’re welcome to join me.”
Y/n’s cheeks flushed, but she shook her head quickly, trying to hide the way her body reacted to his words. “No, thanks,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest in what she hoped was a defiant gesture.
He smirked, clearly not buying her act, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he tossed his shirt onto the chair beside him and turned toward the bathroom, giving her one last lingering look before closing the door behind him.
The sound of the shower starting filled the suite, and Y/n let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her heart was still racing, and her skin felt hot everywhere Lando’s gaze had touched her. She glanced toward the closed bathroom door, then at the bed in his room, an idea forming in her mind.
What if I…?
Without giving herself time to second-guess, she slipped into his bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. She stood there for a moment, listening to the faint sound of water running from the shower, then slowly began to undress. Her clothes fell to the floor in a pile, and she stepped out of them, feeling exposed yet exhilarated. She climbed into his bed, pulling the covers up to her chin as she waited.
The minutes dragged on, each one stretching longer than the last. Her nerves were on edge, every sound making her jump slightly. Finally, the shower turned off, and she heard the bathroom door open. She held her breath, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
Lando stepped into the room, towel slung low around his hips, his hair still damp and tousled. He froze when he saw her in his bed, his eyes widening slightly before a slow, knowing smile spread across his face. “Well, well,” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe. “Look who decided to make herself comfortable.”
Y/n bit her lip, trying to appear confident despite the way her pulse was racing. She shrugged, the motion causing the sheet to slip slightly, revealing the curve of her shoulder. “Your bed looked more inviting,” she said, her voice soft but steady.
“Is that so?” he asked, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward the bed. His movements were deliberate, each step bringing him closer until he was standing at the foot of the bed, looking down at her with a heated gaze. “And here I thought you weren’t interested in joining me earlier.”
She shifted under the covers, the sheet sliding down further to reveal the swell of her breasts. “Maybe I changed my mind,” she murmured, her eyes locked on his.
Lando chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine. He reached for the towel around his waist, his fingers brushing against the fabric as he teased her with his next move. Slowly, almost torturously, he tugged the towel loose, letting it fall to the floor.
Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of him. His cock was already hard, thick and throbbing, and she couldn’t help but lick her lips as her gaze traveled over him. God, he’s gorgeous, she thought, her mouth suddenly dry.
“Like what you see?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he watched her reaction.
She nodded, unable to tear her eyes away. “Very much,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Lando’s grin widened, and he climbed onto the bed, kneeling at the end as he leaned over her. “Then why don’t you show me just how much?” he suggested, his tone teasing but unmistakably serious.
Y/n hesitated for only a moment before sitting up, letting the covers fall away completely as she moved toward him. She crawled across the bed, her eyes never leaving his as she positioned herself between his legs. Her hands rested on his thighs, warm and firm beneath her touch, and she leaned forward, her breath ghosting over his cock before she finally took him into her mouth.
“Fuck,” Lando groaned, his head tilting back as her lips wrapped around him. His hands tangled in her hair, guiding her but not forcing her, letting her set the pace.
She took her time, exploring him with her tongue, savoring the way he throbbed in her mouth. She kissed him, licked him, played
She pulled back slightly, her lips still brushing against the tip of his cock as she spoke, her voice low and teasing. “You have a very nice cock, Lando.” Her tongue flicked out to taste him again, and he groaned, his hips jerking involuntarily.
“Fuck, Y/n,” he breathed, his hands tightening in her hair. “You’re going to kill me.”
She smiled, her eyes locking with his as she took him deeper into her mouth, savoring the way he filled her. She could feel him throbbing against her tongue, taste the saltiness of his skin, and it only made her want more. Her hand moved down to cup his balls, gently rolling them between her fingers as she sucked him, her lips moving up and down his length with practiced ease.
“I love your cock,” she murmured, pulling back just enough to speak before taking him in again. “I could suck it every day.”
Lando let out a choked laugh, his breath hitching as she worked him over. “You’re fucking insatiable,” he muttered, but there was no heat in his words, only awe and desire.
As she continued to pleasure him, she could feel herself growing wetter, her own need building with every moan that escaped his lips. She was dripping onto the bed beneath her, her arousal impossible to ignore. When Lando noticed, his eyes darkened, and a sly grin spread across his face.
“Look at you,” he teased, his voice thick with lust. “So fucking wet for me, aren’t you? My little slut.”
She blushed at his words, but they only fueled her desire, making her even more desperate for him. She moaned around his cock, her eyes fluttering closed as she lost herself in the sensation of him filling her mouth.
But Lando had other plans. With a growl, he pulled her off him, ignoring her whimper of protest. He flipped her onto her back, his eyes raking over her naked body like a predator sizing up its prey. His gaze lingered on the glistening wetness between her thighs, and he licked his lips hungrily.
“I need to taste you,” he declared, his voice rough with need. “Now.”
Before she could respond, he was on her, his mouth descending on her core with a hunger that left her gasping. His tongue delved into her, exploring her folds with an intensity that made her arch off the bed. She cried out, her hands tangling in his hair as he devoured her, his tongue lapping at her wetness like a man dying of thirst.
“Lando!” she screamed, her hips bucking against his face as he drove her closer and closer to the edge. Every lick, every suck, every thrust of his tongue sent waves of pleasure crashing through her, leaving her trembling and incoherent.
He paused for a moment, looking up at her with a wicked grin. “God, you taste so good,” he murmured, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh. “I could eat you out all day and never get enough.”
His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she whimpered, her nails digging into his scalp as she begged him not to stop. He didn’t need to be told twice. His mouth returned to her, his tongue working her clit with a precision that had her seeing stars. He slipped two fingers inside her, curling them just right, and she came undone, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave.
“Fuck, Lando!” she cried, her body convulsing with pleasure as he continued to lick and suck at her, drawing out her release until she was left boneless and panting.
When he finally pulled away, his lips were glistening with her wetness, and his eyes were filled with desire. He crawled up her body, his cock pressing against her thigh as he kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue.
“You’re mine,” he whispered against her lips, his voice fierce and possessive. “All mine.”
She nodded, her heart swelling with emotion as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. “Yours,” she agreed, her voice trembling with the weight of her feelings.
There was no turning back now. The tension that had been simmering between them for months had finally boiled over, and neither of them could—or would—put out the fire. They were consumed by each other, lost in a whirlwind of passion and desire that showed no signs of slowing down.
Lando positioned himself between her legs, his cock pressing against her entrance as he looked down at her, his eyes searching hers for any hesitation. There was none. Only want, need, and something deeper that neither of them was ready to put into words yet.
“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he promised, his voice husky with desire.
And then he was inside her, filling her completely as she gasped, her nails digging into his back. He started slow, allowing her time to adjust to him, but it wasn’t long before the pace quickened, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony.
“You feel incredible,” he groaned, his forehead pressed against hers as he thrust into her, each movement driving her higher and higher.
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, could only feel. The way he filled her, the way he touched her, the way he looked at her—it was overwhelming in the best possible way. She clung to him, her cries of pleasure mingling with his groans as they moved together, chasing the ecstasy that only the other could provide.
And when it finally came, it hit them both like a freight train, their bodies shuddering as they reached the peak together. Lando’s name spilled from her lips like a prayer, and hers from his like a promise, as they tumbled over the edge into blissful oblivion.
For a moment, they simply lay there, tangled together and breathing heavily, the world outside forgotten. But as reality began to creep back in, Lando rolled onto his side, pulling her with him so that she was nestled against his chest.
“Tell me this is real,” he murmured, his voice soft but urgent as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.
She looked up at him, her heart aching with the depth of her emotions. “It’s real,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s always been real.”
He kissed her then, softly, tenderly, as if sealing the truth of her words. And as they lay there, wrapped up in each other, the lines between fantasy and reality blurred, leaving only the undeniable truth: they were meant for each other.
#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 fic#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#f1#f1 fanfic#formula one x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris#ln4#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you
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Addicted (Stephen x FemReader)
Summary: You love your sweet baby boy, but you know how much of a pretty little liar he can be. Especially when it comes to something he wants.
Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. Mission, refusal to pull out, slight mommy kink, and… Stephen’s cute, big dick.
Notes: I would love to hear what all you, lovelies, think! If you would like to see more of Stephen! If so...I already have another idea in mind! ❤️
- It’s in the way he exhales; breathy, laced with the sweetest whimper. Just barely audible over the lovely, lewd sounds of Stephen’s clumsy thrusts.
- You can practically feel his impatience. See the look of dizzy, drunk pleasure on his angelic face. Clearly on the verge of his orgasm with the way his compact muscles tense…how his neck strains deliciously. “Good…feel so good…”
- Sweat gleams on his skin in the faint light. As well as the angry, red scratches you left on his biceps…chest. “Sucking me back in…clenching around me…”
- The scent of sex lays heavy in the air when he begins to twitch. His calloused hands grip your hips harder. Pace picks up, drives grow more erratic. While he sputters out… “S-shit. You’re g-going to make me…make m-me…”
- “P-pull out, baby,” you pant softly. Writhing beneath him, head tilted slightly to the side. Showing off all the adorable marks he left behind. “You need to p-pull out.”
- Strokes become uneven, sloppy. He shakes his head and something wild, defiant flashes in those blue eyes. “N-no. Please, m-mommy. I want to m-make a mess of this p-pretty pussy…”
- Instinctively you try to push him off, but his hold tightens. Pinning you to the bed, pressing you into it with his weight. “Coat these t-thighs; cover those s-swollen folds…”
- You know you shouldn’t. That you should be more forceful; attempt to fight back, put him in his place. Demand he releases on your stomach, like always. But he looks so sweet, so desperate…you can’t deny him.
- Legs wind, lock securely. Hands cling to his shoulders, pulling him close. Walls flutter while your lips ghost over the shell of his ear. “All right…just this one time though…”
- “T-thank you…thank y-you… I p-promise… Only…only…” Movements falter, stutter. Long fingers digging in, bruising you. As he buries his face into the side of your neck, hot breath and soft curls tickling your skin.
- “O-one…onnnce…” Slamming awkwardly, brutally. Strangled moan flies from his mouth and he cutely cums. His warm seed pumping you all full, making you…
- Wail out at the sudden load. Coil in your stomach finally snapping, sending you crashing over the edge. Crying out; gushing all over his cock, milking him for every drop. Head reeling in the best way possible, barely able to think…because it’s just too good. Not that you'll admit it.
- He babbles, whimpers. Tongue lapping, teeth nibbling gently. Continuing to pound and fuck you through his high. “Warm…s-so warm…” Until the last spurt paints your walls and he stills.
- Propping himself, he hovers above you. Chest heaving, face all flushed and splotchy. Glasses crooked and completely fogged up. “That…that was a-amazing.”
- Try as you might, you can't help but giggle at his adorably, pathetic state. Cupping his pink cheek, tapping it gently. “Glad you enjoyed yourself, but don't get used to it though. One time only…got it?”
- “Y-Yeah…” He mumbles, reluctantly pulling out. Gaze locked on, entranced from the way that creamy whiteness seeps from your core. “O-only once…”
- That something wild, defiant flashes in those blue eyes once more and you know… That by the end of the night you’ll have lost count of how many times he’s cummed inside you… That it’s too late to stop Stephen now… Now that he’s addicted…
- Oh, well… Maybe you'll get a cute baby or two out of this, out of your pretty little liar…
Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @adorbzliz, @sythethecarrot, @divineani, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @fuckmyskywalker
#hayden christensen#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen fanfiction#hayden christensen smut#anakin skywalker#anakin#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin x reader#star wars anakin#sw anakin#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin fanfiction#anakin smut#star wars#star wars prequels#star wars fanfiction#star wars smut#darth vader#darth vader x reader#dart vader fanfiction#darth vader smut#stephen glass#stephen glass x reader#stephen glass fanfiction#stephen glass smut#shattered glass#shattered glass fanfiction#shattered glass smut
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Title: More Than Just Friends
Summary: Everyone at school can see it—JJ Maybank and Y/N clearly have a thing going on. Whether it’s the way he always steals her lunch scraps, refuses to sit anywhere that isn’t next to her, or how protective he gets when another guy gets too close—there’s no denying the connection between them. But are they just friends… or something more?
Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader
Warnings: Fluff, mutual pining, protective JJ.
It was obvious.
Painfully obvious.
The Pogues had been watching it happen for months now—every stolen glance, every lingering touch, every shared laugh between you and JJ. The two of you swore you were just friends, but no one was buying it anymore.
Especially not today.
You sat cross-legged on the grass during lunch, the sun warm against your skin as you unwrapped your sandwich. JJ sat right beside you, so close that his knee brushed against yours every time he shifted. He was leaning back on his hands, his usual grin present, but his eyes kept flicking toward your lunch like clockwork.
It was routine by now.
You pulled the tomato slices from your sandwich, scrunching your nose as you handed them to him.
“Here,” you said with a soft smile.
JJ smirked, taking them without hesitation. “You know me so well, princess.”
He popped the slices into his mouth like they were the best thing he’d ever tasted, and then without a word, you reached for his untouched veggie cup and swapped it with your container of grapes.
“Seriously?” He groaned.
“You need fruit, JJ.” You grinned, popping a grape into your mouth. “Besides, you hate veggies.”
“Yeah, but I tolerate them for you.” He shot back, taking a grape despite his grumbling.
Kiara raised a brow, watching the entire exchange from where she sat with Pope and John B. She leaned closer, whispering, “They’re literally so together.”
“They’re not, though.” Pope muttered, narrowing his eyes. “I asked Y/N. She said they’re just friends.”
John B snorted. “Yeah? Tell that to JJ when he’s practically feeding her grapes like they’re in a rom-com.”
Sure enough, JJ had just held up a grape, wiggling his brows at you.
“C’mon, open up,” he teased.
You rolled your eyes but still let him feed it to you, your lips brushing his fingers just enough to make him swallow hard.
The Pogues exchanged looks.
Friends? Yeah, right.
—
The clinginess didn’t stop at lunch.
In history, JJ was already seated when you walked in, feet propped up on the chair next to him, clearly reserving the seat.
“Really?” you teased, raising a brow.
“Really,” he shot back, grinning as he dropped his feet and patted the chair. “C’mon, sunshine. Sit next to your favorite person.”
You couldn’t even argue because, truthfully? You wanted to sit next to him. Being close felt easy, like second nature, and the way he scribbled dumb doodles on your notebook when the teacher droned on only made you smile more.
When class ended, JJ was right there again, waiting outside your next period.
“Need a bodyguard?” he joked, throwing an arm around your shoulders.
You huffed a laugh. “I can walk to class alone, JJ.”
“Yeah, but it’s better when I’m around,” he smirked, eyes twinkling.
But his playful mood shifted the second he spotted the guy who was your partner in biology standing a little too close when you walked in. His grip on your shoulder tightened just slightly, voice dropping as he whispered, “This guy bothering you?”
You snorted. “No, JJ. Chill. He’s my lab partner.”
JJ narrowed his eyes at the guy anyway, holding eye contact for a beat too long before reluctantly letting you go—but not before brushing his hand down your back on his way out.
And by the time the final bell rang, he was already waiting outside, leaning casually against the lockers with that grin.
“Miss me?”
You rolled your eyes but felt your heart flutter as he slung his arm around you once again.
It was instinct now. Automatic.
And when the two of you met up with the rest of the Pogues after school, still tangled together, JJ’s arm secure around your waist, Kiara muttered under her breath—
“Yeah. Just friends.”
#outer banks x you#outer banks x reader#outer banks#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj maybank x y/n#john b routledge#pope heyward#kiara carrera
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i neeeed a kraven smut where he’s warning the reader they can’t have sex because he won’t be able to control himself and he’ll hurt her. the reader is really submissive and innocent but he keeps smelling and sensing how turned on she is, the tension is too high and he gives in and they have really rough sex. i mean like him choking her, pinning her down, and maybe biting her. after he feels really bad for how rough he was, but he couldn’t help himself because it was all instincts from his animalistic side. i cannot stop thinking about it.
Kraven's Temptation
Pairing: Sergei Kravinoff x Fem!reader
Warning: Smut!, little bit of blood
Masterlist (requests are currently open for now)
Sergei's eyes flashed with a dangerous intensity as he growled, "We can't do this. I won't be able to control myself... I'll hurt you."
You trembled, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through your body. "I--I trust you," you whispered, your innocence only heightening his primal urges.
He inhaled sharply, catching your scent. "You have no idea what you're doing to me," he rasped, his control slipping.
Unable to resist any longer, Sergei pounced, pinning you beneath him. His strong hands gripped your wrists as he claimed your mouth in a bruising kiss. You gasped as he bit your lower lip, drawing blood.
Sergei's grip tightened as he trailed hungry kisses down your neck. You whimpered, both from pain and pleasure, as he bit down on your sensitive skin. His powerful body pressed you into the mattress, leaving you breathless.
"Mine," he growled possessively, one hand moving to encircle your throat. He applied just enough pressure to make you lightheaded as he roughly entered you. You cried out, overwhelmed by the intensity.
Sergei set a punishing pace, driven by pure animal instinct. His fingers dug into your hips hard enough to bruise as he took you relentlessly. You surrendered completely to his domination, lost in a haze of pain and ecstasy.
As the intensity built, Sergei's grip on your throat tightened. Your vision began to blur at the edges as he pounded into you mercilessly. Just when you thought you might pass out, he released your neck, allowing you to gasp for air. The rush of oxygen heightened every sensation.
"That's it, take all of me," he snarled, his voice rough with lust.
You cried out as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. Sergei growled in approval, angling his hips to strike it again and again. The coil of pleasure inside you wound impossibly tight.
"Sergei, please!" you begged, not even sure what you were asking for.
He leaned down, his teeth grazing your ear. "Come for me," he commanded.
With a strangled cry, you obeyed. Waves of intense pleasure crashed over you as your body convulsed beneath him. Sergei groaned deeply, your release triggering his own. He thrust into you a final time, holding you tightly as he spilled himself inside you.
For several long moments, the only sound was your shared ragged breathing. As the haze of passion faded, Sergei's eyes widened in horror at the marks covering your body. Bruises were already forming on your wrists and hips, and angry red bite marks dotted your neck and shoulders.
"Oh god," he choked out, scrambling off of you. "I'm so sorry. I... I couldn't control myself. I told you I would hurt you."
You winced slightly as you sat up, your body aching pleasantly. "Sergei, it's okay," you said softly, reaching for him. "I wanted it. All of it."
He shook his head, unable to meet your eyes. "No, it's not okay. I... I'm a monster. I should never have let this happen."
You reached out to gently touch Sergei's arm. "You're not a monster," you said softly. "Please don't say that."
He flinched away from your touch, his eyes filled with self-loathing. "Look at what I've done to you," he said hoarsely. "I could have seriously hurt you. I did hurt you."
"But you didn't seriously hurt me," you insisted. "I'm okay, Sergei. More than okay."
He finally met your gaze, searching your face. "How can you say that? After what I just did..."
You took his hand, placing it over your heart. "Feel that? My heart is racing, but not from fear. I've never felt more alive." You leaned in closer. "Or more wanted."
Sergei's expression softened slightly. "You truly aren't afraid of me?"
"Never," you breathed.
He pulled you into his arms, holding you as if you were made of glass. "I don't deserve you," he murmured into your hair.
You nestled against his chest, feeling safe and cherished. "Let me be the judge of that."
Sergei's arms tightened around you, his body still tense with lingering guilt. You nuzzled against his chest, breathing in his musky scent.
"I meant what I said," you murmured. "I trust you completely."
He sighed, running his fingers gently through your hair. "Your trust in me is misplaced. I lost control. My instincts took over and I..." he trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
You tilted your head up to meet his troubled gaze. "And you gave me exactly what I needed," you said softly. "What we both needed."
Sergei's brow furrowed. "How can you say that? I was far too rough. I could have seriously harmed you."
"But you didn't," you insisted. "You pushed me to my limits, yes. But you didn't go beyond them." You traced your fingers along his stubbled jaw. "That's the difference between you and a true monster, Sergei. Even in the throes of passion, some part of you was still aware. Still in control."
He caught your hand, pressing a tender kiss to your palm. "I wish I could believe that," he said quietly.
You shifted in his arms, wincing slightly as your sore muscles protested. Sergei immediately loosened his hold, concern etched on his features.
"See?" you said with a soft smile. "You're still being gentle with me now. Your instincts aren't solely about violence or domination."
Sergei's expression remained troubled, but some of the tension left his body. He carefully traced the marks he'd left on your skin, his touch feather-light.
"I never want to hurt you," he murmured.
You caught his hand, bringing it to your lips. "Then don't push me away," you said. "That's the only thing that could truly hurt me."
Sergei's eyes softened as he gazed at you. Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your forehead.
"What did I do to deserve you?" he whispered.
You smiled, snuggling closer to him. "You were simply yourself," you replied. "That's all I ever wanted."
As Sergei held you close, his guilt began to fade. In its place, a fierce protectiveness took root. He may not fully trust himself, but he would do everything in his power to keep you safe - even from his own darker nature.
#💌 asks#kraven movie#kraven the hunter#kraven oneshot#sergei kravinoff#kraven x reader#kraven smut#sergei kravinoff x reader#aaron taylor johnson#aaron johnson#one shot
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Vvvv... VVVV...
... ZHONGLI MORAX SMUT... ZHONGLI/MORAX BREEDING SMUT... PWEASE
✮ cw. . (18+), breeding kink, afab reader, marking. divider creds: cafekitsune.
I think the essence of being a dragon drags with it those primordial instincts. The fact that they are such territorial and possessive creatures is something that Morax can't always fight against.
Despite being an Archon and knowing that he possesses more power than the others, Morax doesn't miss the opportunity to show his followers that you are his. That you have been chosen to be by his side, in his home, in his temple where people worship him and bring him gifts, in his chambers.
His arm always wrapped around your waist, his broad hand constantly finding space on your lower back. Teeth marks you wear as jewels on your neck or wrist.
There, where the murmur of the people who often congregate outside the temple comes as whispers and where the footsteps of the crowd sometimes make you shudder because they sound like thunder; with the candle fires dancing merrily and conjuring shadows on his face, Morax forces you to look at him. His long, slender fingers grip your jaw with just enough force to keep you from escaping.
“Eyes on me,” he commands in a husky voice, charged with pleasure.
Hearing him, your eyelashes flutter, focusing on him and him alone. You shift your hips deeper, as the silk robe that was gifted to you a few moons ago falls angelically over your shoulders and drapes like a curtain over your hips. The color highlights your skin and fits perfectly to your body measurements, after all, it was made with a fabric specially chosen by the Archon, like each of the clothes you wear.
Your breasts shudder with each new rhythm at which your bodies sway, a perfect dance that causes Morax to thrust his hips from below and grunt through his teeth. Eventually, the position you were in unravels and you end up lying on the sheets, your feet dangling on his shoulders; his hands flattened on the mattress on either side of your head.
“You're so deep inside me,” you whisper through half-opened lips. All you could feel was him, his overwhelming presence, his body crushing you to the floor.
Morax is looking at you, not directly into your eyes but where his cock comes in and splits you in two. He's drunk in the way your juices wet his cock and the way your clit peeks out from between swollen lips.
The thought of cumming inside you has his pelvis clenching warning him of his own soon release, his breath escaping heavy through his nose and his teeth grinding against each other. Morax leans back and carefully lowers your legs off his shoulders to then sit on his own feet, thighs bent as he grabs your hips, lifts you off the mattress and with his strength uses you freely to move you up and down at his whim.
The wet sounds of your pussy fill the room, your cries are silenced by your teeth biting into your own forearm.
“Mine… mine… mine…” Morax growls, his golden eyes stained with lust.
In between stroking your stomach and thighs to bring comfort after his hard thrusts, Morax cums with a grunt, thrusting so deep inside you that the curly hairs are brushing against your pussy lips. And now, he wishes, this is the time he could finally see you pregnant with his babies. There is nothing that would give him more satisfaction than to see you with swollen breasts, sensitive nipples, being adored for being the woman carrying a semi-archon in her womb.
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Could you possibly make a Joe x clingy wife🫣 My brain is craving it😭
~ enjoy ~
A lot of things in your life make perfect sense to you and your husband.
Like the home office that originally had two desks with some space between them, but now is one long desk with two comfy desk chairs side by side- his and hers of course.
Or the giant loveseat in your mini library/study that could fit the both of you with ease. And the modern shower with adjacent shower heads to spend and save time together.
These things made sense and some others would agree. But not all the things you did made sense to the other people in your life.
Like getting to games freakishly early to see your husband warm up and leaving very late just to go home together. Or never sitting in the warm box seats even when it’s 28° outside, you’ve always chosen to sit behind their bench.
Everyone knows you hate waking up early when it’s not called for, so they’re confused as to why you make sure to wake up whenever Joe gets up (even if it’s 4:45 AM). But what they don’t understand is you don’t wake up for no reason, you wake up for that sweet morning kiss from him that sends you back to sleep with a smile on your face.
Not everything you do has to make sense to them, because it makes sense to you and Joe.
-˚˖ ੭*⠤
It’s finally the offseason. Sure the season didn’t work out the way everyone hoped it would but you still witnessed the love of your life play the best football of his career. But it’s safe to say, you’re more than happy to have him all to yourself now.
So why is your home filled with laughter that does not belong to you or your husband?
Walking down the stairs, the chatter becomes clearer and you get the full picture of Joe, Ja’Marr, Tee, Sam (and his wife), and a couple other friends sitting in your living room.
So fun.
You greet everyone with a kind smile then tiptoe towards the kitchen to grab a large snack tray and hurriedly fill it with enough cheese, crackers and fruits that it can hold for the light dozen of people in your home.
Do you have to immediately turn into the picture perfect host? No, but it’s still a nice gesture to offer them. So you deliver the tray to the living room and place it on the coffee table, then go back to the kitchen and grab a case of chilled spring water to take over there as well.
The small group sung sweet praises for your kind gesture which warmed your heart like no other.
“Babe come sit.” Joe called you over with his pretty smile. The simple command caused fluttering in your stomach, you would never turn any of his offers down.
There was plenty of room for you to occupy, but there was only one seat you would ever want. Now, if the people in the room were strangers, you would sit on the couch next to your husband’s recliner. The seat was open, meaning they expected you to take it. But everyone in this room already knew you too well.
As you approached your destination, your husband instinctively held out his hand and pulled you into his lap while still holding a conversation about your next trip to Vegas with Sam.
Some of your friends chuckled silently as you got comfy in Joe’s lap, your arm resting behind his shoulders while you sat horizontally, one of his arms securing your back while the other tightly but lovingly held onto your thigh. It was perfect. This was you and Joe in a nutshell and no one would ever change that. Even your parents have gotten used to it.
Later on in the evening, most of the guests had cleared out and the snack tray was graciously empty. The only person left was Ja’Marr and considering he lived on the same street as us, he’d find his way home when he was ready and you weren’t one to push.
(Aka he’s a professional 3rd wheel and has pretty much walked in on us in almost every way you could imagine.)
“Hey Shadow,” you looked up from your phone instantly to the nickname the wide receiver had given you moons ago.
“Yes freelancer?” You bit back making Joe chuckle.
Ja’Marr rolled his eyes and relaxed back on your couch. “Relax. I met him before you did, Shadow.”
“And I got a ring before you did.” You smirked, feeling your husband attempt to hold back more laughter, keyword attempt.
The freelancer glares at both of you. “That was just wrong. You not even defending me to your wife, J?”
Joe shakes his head, a shameless smirk on curving up his pink lips. “Nah man, this is between you and her. I’m just enjoying the show.”
You chuckle and lean into him. “Wifey: One, Uno: None.”
Ja’Marr rolls his eyes and stands from the couch, looks back down at you cuddled up against his friend and chuckles. “She’s gonna snuggle you to death one day, J.”
Joe’s hand tightens around you as the front door shuts, emphasizing the fact that you’re now alone.
You look up at your grinning husband and peck his lips softly. “You hear that, I’m gonna snuggle you to death.”
He snorts holding you closer, if it’s even possible, and kisses your head. “Sounds like a perfect way to die to me.”
Turns out he’s just as clingy as you are, a perfect match if you’ve ever seen one.
#bengals barnesbabe#joe burrow x black reader#black reader#joe burrow x reader#nfl imagine#joe burrow#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow bengals#anon request#requests are open#joe burrow blurb#clingy duo#babe answers#joe burrow imagine
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caleb horny thoughts >:3 | fem!reader
not proof read I wrote this on a whim LMAO | dividers by @/anitalenia !! <3
18+ MDNI SMUT AHEAD!!!!!
As soon as your head hits the pillow, Caleb is hovering over you instantly. His breath tickling the side of your neck as he leaves hot, opened mouth kisses on all over. From your shoulder to your collarbone, hastily making his way towards your lips. Finally, he places a steering hot kiss on your lips. You whimper into his mouth as he bites your bottom lip. In return, he lets out a shaky guttural sounding groan, he's losing his composure, his resolve wearing thin.
He doesn't want to be rough with you but the whines you let out as his hands explore your body is making it hard for him to keep a hold of himself. Soon enough, he's taking off his shirt, a light dusting of pink covering your cheeks as you take in his tone chest and body. He grabs your hand and places it on his heart, his forehead touching yours as he says, "This heart will always be yours, even when all the odds are stacked against us." Tears start streaming down your face. You cry because you have been waiting for this moment for what feels like a lifetime. "I will always love you." You promised, Caleb's eyes painted with emotions, and with that his lips meet yours again.
The kiss is more emotional than both of you had expected, but it is soon replaced with desperation as his hands spread your legs. Your breath hitches. Soon, his hands move up to the hem of your shirt, slipping it over your head. He makes quick work with taking off your bra, you gasp as the cold air of the room touches your nipples. "Fuck," Caleb hisses, "your so beautiful." you moan as his mouth attaches to your nipple, his other hand massaging your other breast.
His lips start making their way to your lower half, stopping at the waistband of your shorts. Caleb takes your shorts along with your panties by the hem and pulls them down. You lift your hips up to help him, he throws them somewhere across the floor. He looks down at your sex, his breath hitching when he sees how wet you are, your arousal almost glistening under the soft lighting of the room. Caleb leans down to steal your lips again, you moan when you feel his thumb press lazy circles onto your clit. He pulls away to hear your moans as he presses two fingers into your soaked hole. your hips grind on his finger as you moan with desperation.
"Singin' for me, pipsqueak?" he smirks. With those words, it is obvious that his teasing side never disappeared. "mmph-! need more, please...!" You pleaded as you looked into his violet eyes. He thrusts his fingers into your little hole, knuckle deep. You moaned in ecstacy as he settled for a quick rhythm. "Hahh... Caleb, please...!" You begged, his name falling from you lips. He hummed in return, watching the way your legs shook. "I want you to cum, can you do that for me hm?" You nod feverishly with a 'mhm' leaving your mouth. He continues to abuse your poor cunt, you chase your release by grinding into his hand. His palm rubbing on your clit.
The heat in your lower belly feels like it's about to burst, your hole fluttering around his fingers instinctively. Caleb feels you flutter, he purrs "C'mon princess, you can do it.." You moan in return, his lips wrap around one of you nipples trying to help you catch your release. Fortunately enough, that's all you need to tip over the edge. You cry out in bliss as you come undone around Caleb's fingers. His pupils dilating as he takes in your pleasure covered face.
"fuck, you look so divine when you cum.." he sighs, "You did so good baby, I'm so proud of you." He removes his fingers from your sensitive core, you letting out a whine from the loss of fullness. He brings his digits to his lips, taking them in to taste your arousal. He hums with contentment, pleased with your sweetness. As the night goes on, you and Caleb give in to the longing both of you share. Love and desperation filling the nightly air.
You wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world.
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace caleb#caleb x reader#lnds caleb#caleb smut#caleb x mc#caleb x you
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— milf ★ chris sturniolo
— CONTENTS: handjob (m receiving); p in v; mommy kink; corruption kink; milf!reader; virgin!chris; sub!chris
— NOTES: i was so, so excited for this one. and i'm so happy for all the support on my silly ideas. this is the whole story of this blurb but it's just a taste, because i want to do a series about them. i wanna write about the first time they ever saw each other, how did chris confess to her, the time she came back to her husband, everything. there's so much to explore about these two and i hope you guys enjoy this just as much as i did. i love yall so much ♡ btw this is so long and not proofread please don’t hate me
it was a silent, cold afternoon at home. your daughter was away, traveling with her father — your ex-husband — and you were enjoying some much needed alone time. the sun was setting and the wind blew through the windows as you adjusted yourself on the couch and took a sip of the coffee you were holding in your left hand.
you heard three knocks from the back door, letting out a deep sigh from the back of your throat. you got up to stretch your tired bones and walked in slow steps towards the kitchen, opening the door. it was chris.
christopher sturniolo, one of your daughter’s best friends. he was energetic, funny, educated and extremely attractive for his age. the type of guy you’d want for your daughter — the gentle, sweet kid, who was surprisingly smart and was definitely going to be a great husband.
however at this moment, chris looked tired. his eyebags were darker and his usual easy smile wasn’t here. he seemed… exhausted.
“hi, dear” you said in your gentle, yet sensual tone, which always caught chris off guard. there was something about your voice that soothe him at the same time it got him worked up, the conflicting feelings taking over his chest.
“uhm, hey” chris said, scratching the back of his head. you noticed how his fingers tangled on his own hair — chris was tense. the other hand was hidden inside his pocket, his bruised lips looking even prettier under the sunset.
you smiled gently, thinking your daughter could’ve forgotten to tell him she’d be absent “she’s not here today, honey”.
“i know” chris answered abruptly, his gaze floating from your chest to his own shoes. “c-can i come in?”. with a simple nod, you entered the house, waiting for chris to join. he closed the back door and made his way to the kitchen, quietly following you around.
“i haven’t cooked since it’s just me” you said, noticing how his blue eyes scanned the empty table.
“oh” chris hadn’t realized you paid just as much attention to him as he did to you. “y-you don’t have to” he said. you raised an eyebrow and placed both of your hands on your hips, a classic mom pose. “i just like your food, that’s all” he looked away as you chuckled.
“aw, baby!” you cooed, genuinely happy with his confession as you opened your arms, offering him a warm, tender hug. “fuck, don’t call me that” chris mumbled under his breath as you approached him. you clicked your tongue in disapproval, silently calling him out. you were the older one and he needed to show some respect.
that’s when you noticed it. chris had failed to cover his pathetic boner, standing there, hard, in front of you.
you dragged your feet towards chris in slow, rhythmic steps, the sound of your heels clacking against the floor taking over the empty house. with a grin, you placed your hand on his tummy, chuckling at the contrast of your red nails and his baby blue hoodie.
“chris, what’s this?” you say as if you’re surprised, gradually lowering your hand to his pants, gently palming his hardened cock. “you’re a naughty, naught boy” chris whined, throwing his head back as he finally felt your hand around him.
this had happened a few times — a couple more than it should. chris was just so, so needy. your maternal instinct could always tell when he needed a hug or some encouragement, and you always gave it to him. until the hugs got tighter and the words turned to whispers, the handshakes turned to interlocking fingers and the quick gazes became lingering stares. one day, you don’t exactly recall how, chris ended up sitting on your lap, which led to your first kiss and chris inevitably cumming untouched inside his jeans.
“i just— ‘m s-sorry” he gasped when you finally got a proper grip of his cock, stroking him over his sweaters.
“i don’t think you are” you teased, pulling his waistband and wrapping your knuckles around chris’s dick, which was covered in pre-cum. his cock twitched inside your fist when you placed a kiss on his neck, as if it was the first time he had ever been touched. “hm? what is it baby?”
“mommy” he breathed out without even thinking. his eyes were closed and his forehead was glued to your shoulder, his pathetic moans filling slipping from his bruised lips. “‘m gonna cum!”
“is that why you came here, chris? you wanted mommy to take care of you?” you cooed, biting his bare skin. with one last stroke and a shaky breath, chris came all over your fingers. the thick, sticky liquid covered your hand and dripped down his legs, staining his grey sweatpants. you brought your hand to your lips, licking all of his release.
you chuckled at him and chris quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, trying to get closer to you. chris hid his face on the crook of your neck, sniffing your scent. “i missed you” he mumbled. “missed you s’much”
your hands went to the back of chris’s head, gently caressing his brown locks. “did you, sweetheart?” you cooed, squeezing his shoulder, silently asking for him to look at you. you touched his chin and chris tilted his head, closing his eyes for the kiss he so long waited for. you pressed your lips together in a tender seal, smiling into the kiss.
“let’s get you clean up, shall we?” you said, noticing the cum stain on his pants. “i’ll wash this one for you”
you said and he agreed, undressing right away. you smiled at his politeness and couldn't help but glance at him as he removed his sweatshirt, exposing his abdomen — chris noticed you staring at him and attempted to tease you “like what you see, mama?”
you rolled your eyes, reaching for his clothes. his half-pumped cock remained coated in cum leaking down his thigh, ending just before his knee. “go take a shower” you suggested — demanded, actually — tossing everything he had on into the washing machine “are you gonna sleep here, sweetheart?”
“i-i… can i?” chris hesitantly asked. “well, there's no one else around” you checked the living room, reassuring chris that neither your daughter nor your ex-husband would be back any time soon.
chris rushed upstairs and took a shower as you finished his laundry. you took that chance to take off your soaked panties, making yourself bare beneath your nightgown before heading to your bedroom.
stepping out of the shower, chris wrapped a towel around his waist and wiped the fogged-up mirror with his palm. his reflection stared back at himself, blue orbs with a mix of excitement and apprehension for sleeping with you for the first time. chris knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. you were just perfect. too perfect.
he opened the door and slowly dragged his feet across the hallway, the soft sound of your movements in the bedroom guiding his steps. through the door gap, chris caught a glimpse of you seated at the edge of the bed, your fingers tracing patterns on the mattress.
“done already?” you asked, voice low and tender. chris nodded as he sat by your side and leaned his back down the bed, holding his weight with both elbows.
for a moment, the room was silent, the weight of your emotions hanging in the air. in a sudden rush of courage, you got closer to him, brushing your lips against his, taking it nice and slow.
chris immediately melted under your touch. his large hand went to the back of your head, softly pulling your hair as you moved to his lap, your curvy thighs practically hugging him.
he gasped with the sudden move, even though he had touched you and you had touched him — you never went all the way. chris was a virgin after all, and you had lost your innocence decades ago. you chuckled at him “it's okay, prince” you whispered, placing a kiss on his cheek. “we don't have to do anything you don't want to”
and that's why he loved you. you were so understanding, so compreensive and gave him the reassurance he needed “no! i w-want it!” chris said, a bit of desperation on his tone, the fear of losing you somehow taking over his already fuzzy mind.
“‘m jus scared i'm not... not gonna be good” he admitted, gaze flickering between your chest — right in front of him — and the ceiling. “g-gonna mess up” he mumbled, nuzzling his face against your breasts.
“that's totally okay” you smiled gently, ruffling his hair before playfully biting his neck, pulling his skin with ur teeth. “and besides, you already know how to make me feel good” you purred like a kitten on his ear, your long, red nails scratching a line down his torso.
“you're such a tease, mama” chris whispered back, placing his palms on your ass, pulling the silk nightgown upwards and revealing your bare flesh, making you moan as he groped your lower body.
with a light push, chris had fallen against the mattress. you crawled back to your previous spot, resting your back against the countless pillows that adorned the bed. chris quickly made his way to you — he was used to sitting on your lap — but you were smarter and, obviously, more experienced.
you stopped him by placing both palms against his chest. receiving a pout in response, your skilled fingers moved to the towel loosely wrapped around his hips, finally pulling the cloth and revealing his hardened cock.
you took a moment to admire the scene in front of you: chris, freshly showered, his hair dripping small droplets of water down his shoulders, his lips slightly parted, a string of saliva connecting both parts, his chest quickly rising and falling and his dick unashamedly leaking.
you had been wet from the moment he showed at your door. by now, your pussy was pratically begging for chris. you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer and sealing your lips on a desperate kiss. chris audibly gasped when he pressed his cock onto your pussy, the new feeling taking over him. he started to drag his swollen lenght against your open cunt, not really sure of what he was doing, but it felt so good.
“whenever you're ready, prince” you breathed out as you enjoyed the feeling of having your folds explored after so long. chris savored that for a bit longer before positioning himself and moving his hips forward.
nothing.
he tried again. it was his first time and it was okay to make mistakes — that's what you told him. chris snorted, a frustrated sigh coming from him. one last try.
nothing, again.
you tried so hard to keep your composure. poor little thing, chris had no idea of what was going on. “w-why is it so hard?” he complained, more to himself than to you. his failed attempts were making him restless and sweaty, “mama” chris called, displaying puppy eyes and the biggest pout. “i c-can't get in...”
he was gonna cry. he was so vulnerable and upset at the same time. you ran your fingers through his hair “hey, hey, look at me” you shushed him, cupping his cheeks. “didn't i tell this could happen, baby? there's no reason to embarassed”
“c'mere” you called, patting the spot next to you on the mattress. “what if mama goes on top, huh? wanna try it that way?” you asked chris with your usual gentle, warm tone. he nodded eagerly, tears beggining to form in the corners of his eyes.
you changed positions, chris had his back resting against the headboard as you sat on his lap. “can you be a big boy and do a big favor for mommy?” he nodded once again, gripping at your hips with both hands. “stay still, alright baby? gonna sit down on you” you warned as you placed your folds against his flushed tip, gradually lowering yourself on his shaft.
“fuck fuck fuck fuck” chris cried at the overwhelming sensation. “mama! s-shit!”
a soft sigh escaped your lips as you surrendered to the moment, relaxing with chris underneath you. “nhng, so big” you whined, adjusting yourself on his cock. you were used to that feeling, being filled up by a huge cock and having men at your feet. but this time was different. it felt so raw, so genuine, so real with chris.
chris threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. his moans got louder as you fastened your pace, soon bouncing on his dick. he was making no effort at all, being a pillow prince and simply letting you do whatever you wanted.
more than having his veins pumping inside you, the thought of being his first woman, of taking away his last bit of innocence, of completely corrupting him helped you get closer to the edge.
“mommy, i can't hold it! 'm gonna cum!” chris whined, panting heavily. “cum with me, my good boy” you gave him permission, but the praise was all he needed. chris trembled and jerked his body forward, the instensity of his orgasm being almost too much for him to handle.
his whimpers and uncoordinated movements ts along with the spurts of warm cum filling your insides made you reach your own climax, your juices mixed with chris's release oozing from your pussy and coating his cock.
“gonna pull out, okay?” you told him, preparing to remove yourself from his dick. “no!” chris prosteted. you furrowed your eyebrows, more curious than mad. “c-can i... can i stay inside? please? it took me so long to get in”, he confessed and you couldn't hold back anymore, a giggle escaping from your lips.
you might have taken his virginity, but deep down, chris would always be your little boy.
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