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fushitoru · 2 months ago

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finish her! a toji fushiguro oneshot

pairing ⸺ wrestler!toji x reader

summary ⸺ you will have to face one of the most formidable wrestlers in history in your next match: toji fushiguro. but don't be confused, this isn't normal wrestling⸺no, it's nude wrestling. and winner gets the spoils of the other's body! (extended ver of my toji drabble here) creds to @/reynisxxsimart on twitter for art!

warnings ⸺ nasty, NASTY smut, VERY public sex, WWE but pornhub edition, you’re a wrestler fighting toji, so some violence but nothing graphic, fem!reader, HUMILIATION, degradation, you're literally fucked in an arena of people, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spanking, oral sex (f! recieving), boobplay, very inaccurate depiction of wrestling/WWE, not edited we die like toji

a/n im going to sit in the corner and think about what i just wrote

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

the muffled sounds of the crowd’s deafening roar seem to swirl in the space around you, each cheer vibrating through your chest like distant thunder. you take a long, cool sip of water, a welcome contrast to the warm air backstage. lounging back, you let the chair support your weight, your muscles still humming with the residual tension of anticipation. utahime’s fingers work into your shoulders, and her voice filters through the buzzing atmosphere, calm and steady as she gives you a rundown of the night ahead, though her words seem to blur slightly at the edges—just background noise to the constant hum of adrenaline.

“in front of a crowd—do you understand? and the rules are no fucking, unless all clothes are off first.”

“right,” you affirm, albeit hesitantly. you’re feeling a bit jitterish in anticipation of what’s to happen, despite having trained months to hone your ability as a wrestler. look, wwe itself can get really suggestive at times, with people giving wedgies, removing certain articles of clothing, or even letting the crowd cop a feel of the defeated to serve as humiliation. not only does it improve publicity, but it also increases viewership of all the horny bastards on the internet to circle the televised clip around in their subreddits or discord servers.

but what you were going to do today—that was a bit…extreme. it was like bridging the gap between soft core and hard core, with the humiliation turned up to a hundred. because today, you were going to wrestle the man that all female–and male–wrestlers could even dream of having their hands on, even if for a slight moment.

toji fushiguro.

a man of impressive build—entering a ring with him only meant defeat. he’s had numerous career wins, far exceeding any other. hell, you shouldn’t even be matched to wrestle with him today; he outweighs and outranks you by far. the only thing you really have running for you is the sheer amount of fans you have, ready to tune in to your fights and edit your moves and time spent in the fighting ring to songs like “chun li” and “maneater.” so, sure, you don’t exactly anticipate a win today in that stadium that’s waiting for you, but you’re no less of a wrestler in your own right. you won’t go down without a fight.

however, today was no normal fight. the wwe had suddenly decided that their viewership was too low, that extreme measures needed to be taken to boost. so, ironically enough they had decided to change the rules just before your momentous match:

all wrestlers must consent to having all and any articles of clothing removed from their person, particularly for sexual intercourse as a reward for the winner.

so, WWE (Pornhub’s Version) (In The Vault).

and your luck dictated that this paradigm shift for the organization occur just before your most anticipated match with toji. again, you knew that no amount of training could prevent you from getting utterly humiliated, but it was almost like the gods were laughing down on you, eager to rub in your impending defeat once more. because you were going to get your shit fucked up—-literally.

“it’s going to be fine,” utahime assures you, and you snap back to the present from your thoughts at the sound of her voice. “just think about the publicity this’ll get you! not that you don’t have any fans of yourself, but there are going to be a lot of people tuned in because of fushiguro.”

you take an inhale in and nod. “yea, that’s true. i just want to get it over with.”

as if answering your prayers, gojo satoru, the mc, burst into your dressing room. “it’s your time to shine, buttercup!” he grins, ushering you out the door. albeit a bit nervously, you stand up and make your way into the hallway that leads directly into the middle of the arena. “you’re going to do great!”

as soon as you walk closer and closer to the arena, the screams get louder and louder, the music booming and causing the floor under you to vibrate. the sounds of people surround all your senses, wrapping you up and causing your heartbeat to go faster and faster.

reaching the end of the hallway, the arena is filled with light, and you have to blink to get a hold of your sight. surrounding the center boxing ring are stands upon stands of people, hustling and bustling. at the sight of you, cameramen stationed around in various spots through the arena furiously angle their cameras towards you. not only are journalists and the media snapping pictures, blinding you with the flash, but you see yourself displayed on the big screens visible to everyone in the arena. you smile and wave, causing your fans to scream as they register that you have walked in.

then, a realization washes over you. these are the same screens that are going to be projected whatever's going to happen during the fight and when you lose.

oh god.

you walk forward, trying to keep up your smile and wave to all of your fans that outstretched their hands, trying to cop a feel and/or get a high five. most of your fans are male (to no one's surprise), and you can feel their eyes roving over you appreciatively, taking in your outfit. it was simple and tight; shorts that just barely covered your ass and was snug around your hips, and a low cut top that couldn't even be called a top. your cleavage was on full display, and the top stopped just below your waist. typically, this is your wrestling attire you wear to a normal match, but you couldn't help but wryly notice that today, your neckline was cut lower than usual. the wwe was really trying to milk this, huh?

you stood just below the boxing ring, eyes anxiously scanning the arena, unconsciously searching for the man you were set to fight. but no matter how hard you looked, you couldn't spot his tall, muscular figure either in the ring or in the seat he was supposed to occupy with his manager.

a light tap on your shoulder startled you, and you turned to find utahime behind you, a concerned look on her face. "everything alright?"

"yeah," you said, waving her off with a forced smile. "but where is he?"

utahime pointed toward the boxing ring, and then you saw it—a glimpse of black hair.

"alright," you said, swallowing nervously. "i'm heading into the ring. wish me luck."

"wait!" utahime called out, but you were already too far to hear her. gripping the ropes at the edge of the ring, you hauled yourself up and strode toward the center, determined to get a better view. and there, just on the far side of the ring, hidden from your previous angle, was toji fushiguro.

he was lounging back, relaxed, his posture almost lazy as he faced his manager, shiu kong. you couldn’t see toji's face from this angle, but his body language indicated that he was the epitome of ease. shiu was saying something to him, and from your best attempt at lip reading, you could just make out the words, "don't break the rules today."

toji, on the other hand, didn't seem to be looking at him (giving 0 fucks, something so classically toji), focusing now towards the big screens everyone else saw in the arena. you turned your gaze towards them as well, only to be taken aback when it was you, a compilation of your best moments in the ring, narrated by gojo.

“and today, fellas, we’re going to see the bombshell y/n—the maneater, as coined by her fans—-competing! while her opponent is fushiguro, don’t be fooled—she can pack a mean punch. look at this fight with mei mei; she sweeped the floor with her face!”

satisfied, you looked around, the arena bustling with people getting drinks, being enraptured with your fight on the screen, or pointing at you or toji. toji, on the other hand, was chuckling and shaking his head at your fight, observing as you gave the bitch mei mei a wedgie. which kind of made you flustered, because you had developed a crush on the guy observing him from afar or in passing, so you just focused on shaking out your legs and arms in nervousness.

gojo similarly announced toji’s fights and compilation, gassing him up for the crowd and it was then that toji finally turned around, uninterested in whatever was going on, and caught your eye. you stared back, breath held involuntarily.

his eyes had a predatory glint to them, and he smiled, charmingly in a way that showed off his scar, and they scanned up and down your figure, taking in what you were wearing—or rather, letting his imagination run. nervously, your heart sped up as you clenched your thighs up in anticipation or anxiety, you couldn’t choose which, as your mind began running at the speed of light thinking about what was going to happen today.

today, you weren’t only going to wrestle toji fushiguro. you were going to fuck him.

but you’re jolted out of your thoughts as gojo’s obnoxious voice blares through the speakers. “give it up for thee wwe goat, toji fushiguro!”

screams reach an all time high as his smirk is broadcasted to the audience, biceps bulging and flexing as he heaves his way up on the ring, joining you. he waves lazily, roars at an all time high as he stalks his way to you, and you squeeze your nails into your palm out of nervousness.

when gojo announces your name, the male screams rise up in volume, causing you to giggle and fushiguro to roll his eyes from what you can see in the corner of your eye. you give a dainty wave, choosing to wink and blow a kiss to the camera in front of you, causing your fans to scream even louder.

“you sure got a lotta fanboys, darling.” you jump as toji has now bent down to whisper in your ear, literally sending shivers down your spine.

you force out a laugh. “and you're at no shortage of fangirls yourself, fushiguro.”

he gives you a nonchalant hum, assuming his original position. as gojo continued to yap about the stakes of the round today, the recent rule change, a referee walked over to you both, coming in closer so that you would be able to hear him over the chaos of the arena.

“so, you’re both aware of the rules, right?” he both looked at you, to which you nodded and toji’s smirk widens. “you gotta get the other’s clothes completely off, and the first one to do that wins.”

you gulp, eyeing what toji was wearing today. it was his signature garb, the one he wore to almost every match without fail: grey pants with various sponsorships sewed on, and a black compression shirt. it was definitely very minimal compared to what a lot of the other wrestlers wore, but it was iconic, giving him a lazy, laid back aura that no other wrestler could truly emanate.

it wasn’t anything hard to take off in particular.

both of you affirmed your consent to the referee, who then took a step back after wishing you both good luck. you turned, facing toji face on, who had his hand on his hip. “try to last long, okay?” he smirks, patting your shoulder with his other hand. “i’ll try to drag this out as much as i can, but it’s gonna be fuckin hard if that ass is grinding against me.”

you glare, but there isn’t much intensity to it because you know he’s much stronger than you. there isn’t much to get angry about. “yea, yea,” you huff. “for all i know, you’ll be my personal dildo today.”

he barks out a laugh and looks at the referee, who has one hand raised, the other one poised on his whistle, ready to blow and start the round. it’s starting soon. then, he looks back to you and smiles. “let the games begin.”

the referee blows the whistle.

at once, you launch yourself towards toji, trying to jump on him to get him off his feet with your weight. instead, he dodges easily and leaves you hurtling towards the floor, making you poise yourself on your hands and feet upon impact. you roll over just as toji tries to tackle you and pin you against your original position on the floor and quickly get up.

however, as you’re steadying yourself on your feet, toji grabs your ankle, causing you to lose your balance and giving him the advantage to pin himself on top of you, his mouth breathing heavily next to your ear, whispering so it was just the two of you that could hear his words. “what do you think i should take off first?” he laughs deeply, the vibration causing you to shiver and try to squirm to get out of his hold, to no avail. “should it be these?” he snakes his hands down to grope your tits, giving them a firm squeeze, much to the arena’s pleasure. “or should i take these off of you?” he slaps your ass, making you blush furiously.

“fuck you,” you hiss as his hands catch on the edge of your shorts.

he gives you a sweet, small kiss on your temple. “don’t worry, baby,” he smiles. “you’ll be doing that anyways.” and with that, he pulls at your shorts until the waistband’s elastic rips, leaving your shorts in tatters until he throws the remains of it away, baring your panty-covered ass to the crowd, which immediately grows wild.

you crane your neck to look at the screen, which is currently focused on toji’s hands feeling up your ass, dipping inside your underwear to knead the flesh. your heart is pounding, the thought i need to get the upper hand flashing continuously across your mind. it’s almost as if you’re drowning, the noises of the crowd blurring together until it was only you and toji’s weight on you. you barely heard the announcer exclaim, “toji is currently in the lead!” as you focused on calculating your next move.

it was time to pull out all the stops.

turning your head until you were making eye contact with him, you bit your lip, momentarily distracted him with the 180 turn of your actions, now nonchalant rather than the flailing you were doing earlier. then, you raised your hips, meeting your backside with his crotch in an effort to catch him off guard and to make him lose balance. then, you maneuvered yourself so your thighs surround toji’s waist and hump your hips against his bulge. this momentarily distracted and weakened toji, and you take full advantage of it by overtaking him and now straddling him. you quickly take off his shirt, salivating at the muscles you see. the whole stadium, in fact, can see his abs and pecs glistening with sweat.

smirking while peering down at him, you slowly grind your hips as if you were riding a mechanical bull, making a show of spinning around his shirt with your hand to mock him. toji’s eyes darken, but a mirthless smile flashes across his face anyways. “damn, take me out to dinner first.”

you flash him one of your own humorless smirks, happy that you got at least one thing against him. “i don’t fuck anyone before the first day, honey. this is just another cheap fuck.” with that, you yank his head back with his hair roughly, making a show of motorboating his pecs, as if to mock him.

instead of getting angry, he chuckles darkly. “you’re going to regret that. i was going to drag this out, princess, but i gotta fuck the brat out of you.” with that, he spins you around just as quickly—if not quicker—pinning you against the ground with your hands held above your head in one hand in a vice grip, the other groping its way down your body. he buries his face in your neck, salaciously licking the length of it. with his free hand—now stationed around your tits—he grabs at the hem of your top, pulling it up so everyone could see your lace bra. mockingly, he plants his face in the middle of your tits, moving his head side by side to motorboat you just as you had done to him, the soft plush of your tits encompassing his face.

the crowd cheers, even more so than they had when you had ripped his shirt off, as toji completely rips the top off as you squirm, making the removal even easier for him. you can feel all eyes on you as toji reaches for the clip of your bra, unhooking it and making your tits pop out. helplessly, you look at the screen, your writhing making them move in a jiggling motion, sweat shining and giving you the “oiled-up” look. he takes a moment to grope them, your whines ignored as he pinches your nipples. “what a sensitive girl,” he coos. “too bad she was too weak. now she’s going to have to take my cock.”

with that, he teasingly closes the distance between the waistband of your panties and his teeth, mouth snagging on the elastic. slowly, he drags them down, unveiling your glistening pussy for all eyes to see, and the crowd goes wild, chanting random requests at toji to do the most heinous things to you. as soon as you’re completely naked, he grabs you by the waist, propping you up against one of the corner posts. you’re now standing up, tearfully facing the arena as the wrestler kneels behind you, burying his face and nosing his way until your pussy, lapping up your wetness.

at the unexpected feeling of his tongue, you yelp, and toji slaps your ass. “stay still.” acquiescing, he licks up long stripes and shakes his head to grind his nose into your cunt, pleasuring you while humiliating you in front of everyone, forcing you to succumb to the pleasure he’s making you feel. while licking you, he groans. “fuck, this pussy is so sweet. i’ve run out of patience, fuck the performance part.”

with that, toji flips you over so you’re on your hands and knees on the floor and pulls down his pants. you don’t even look back at the monster that’s about to enter you for the sake of your mental health, but your legs are shaking in anticipation of his cock, slick dripping down your thighs.

he drags his cock teasingly through your folds, and then brings it out to slap it against your ass, humming appreciatively at the recoil. then, as if he’s lost patience, he’s slowly entering you, pushing against your pussy’s resistance as he penetrates you in front of the whole arena. “fuck!” he groans, getting a better grip on you as he pushes your head down on the mat and fully goes to pound town.

the humiliating plap! plap! plap! of his hips against the flesh of your ass echoing multiple strangers watch your pussy get wrecked. “the fuck this pussy’s so tight for? thought you were a slut?”

you’re tearing up, the feeling of his dick hitting your g-spot straight on making you clench hard, overwhelmed by the feeling of him pummeling you and his hands on your body, feeling you up. clearly, he knew how to pleasure a woman, and it made you all the more annoyed. you were fucked out, but not fucked out enough to prevent you from snarkily replying, “you’re not turning me on, small dick.”

he did not like that very much.

toji drills his hips into yours faster and slaps your ass multiple times consecutively. “yea, so why is she clenching so fucking much? why is she dripping, you whore?” as if to demonstrate his point, he brings his fingers to rub at your clit furiously, collecting the wetness that had dripped down from your hole then shoving his fingers into your mouth. “suck.” when you did just that, suckling at his fingers while hollowing your hot, wet heat around the appendages.

at that, he groaned. “what a little cockwhore. shoulda made you suck my dick instead.”

in retaliation, you bite his fingers, hard, and then spit them out. “i would’ve bit your micro off.”

toji hisses, grabbing the hair at your scalp and pulling on it until your face was up, his mouth at your ear. “just for that, i’m going to come inside of your slutty pussy.” he speeds up, moving his hips faster and fast. the hand that wasn’t at your hair is now sneaking his way down your back, until you gasp.

because he’s inserted his thumb inside your ass.

“oh, ho ho,” he laughs mockingly. “you liked that, didn’t you?” you offer him no response, choosing instead to focus on the feeling of the sheer amount of pressure you were feeling down there, being doubly stuffed. by now, your orgasm has been steadily building because of the sheer power of toji’s stroke game, but as soon as he hits your spot one last time, your eyes roll back, causing you to arch your back and writhe due to the intensity of your orgasm.

you’re breathing heavily, toji fucking you roughly through it. once you’ve gotten a hold of your sense, you come back to reality as you realize that the crowd has adopted a rhythm to their chants, your fans and his screaming the same thing.

cum! cum! cum!

and toji only chortles as he continues your thirst, looking at you once again, and you can tell that he’s staving his orgasm back just after experiencing your clenches with the way he’s biting his lips, sweat running down from his temple to his abs. “what do you say, baby? wanna give the crowd what they’re asking for?”

all it takes is a whimpered please, and toji just does what the crowd asks of him. ropes of his cum fill you, and you drop down in exhaustion to hear toji declared as winner.

as you exhaustedly lift your head up, you see that cameras are out all around you, focused on the screen. you’re flustered when you realize the billboard is displaying toji’s cum seeping out of you.

A hand on your shoulder. “you good?” toji’s looking at you, eyes twinkling.

you let out a breath. “yea,” you laugh, out of breath. “good round.”

and he’s huffing, giving you a hand to get on your back. you can only lie on the ground as he barks for clothes to be put on you and for some water. then he turns to look at you once more, eyes twinkling. “wanna go for more in my hotel?”

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n i was going to have him carry u up near to the stands where your fans could grab at ur titties but this is alr depraved as it is. now im going to take a breather from tumblr for the rest of this week becasue WHEW ch5 gojo yesterday and finished this today i am ON A ROLL. see you guys for next week's kinktober fic (comment if you want to be tagged)! much love<3

reblog and comments are much appreciated!!!!!

taglist:

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto @cheescakebroom

@r0ckst4rjk

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fanfictionismyaddiction · 24 days ago

Text

Waiting for the Green Light

word count: 863

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summery: As rain delays qualifying in São Paulo, Y/n and Lando share a heartwarming moment in the garage, wrapped in each other's warmth

______________________________________________________________

The rain continued to fall heavily on the São Paulo circuit, creating a rhythmic patter against the garage roof that provided an almost soothing soundtrack to the tension in the air. Y/n had shifted onto Lando’s lap, her legs draped over his in a way that felt both natural and electric. He was still in his full racing suit, the tight fabric accentuating his lean build and showing off the logos of his sponsors, while his fireproof undershirt peeked out from under the suit. The smell of rubber and fuel clung to him, mixed with a hint of adrenaline that never seemed to leave a driver even in moments of calm.

“Can you believe this weather?” she asked, trying to make light of the situation as she settled in, feeling his warmth radiate through the layers of fabric.

“Honestly? Not really,” Lando replied, his tone playful. “It’s like the rain gods have decided to ruin my day on purpose.” He chuckled, leaning back slightly against the cold metal wall of the garage, and adjusted her on his lap so she was even more comfortable. His hands were firm but gentle, one resting on her waist while the other found her knee, his fingers absentmindedly drawing small circles over her jeans.

The tension of the rain delay melted away as they shared this little moment together. Y/n relaxed into him, allowing her head to rest against his shoulder, enjoying the way his heartbeat drummed softly beneath her ear. The garage was alive with activity around them, mechanics hurriedly checking tires and adjusting setups, but here, in their own bubble, it felt like time had stopped.

Just as she was starting to lose herself in the warmth and closeness, a flash of light caught her eye. She turned to see a couple of camera operators from the media team positioning themselves nearby, clearly looking for the perfect shot of McLaren’s rising star and his girlfriend. Her heart raced, not just from the closeness of Lando, but from the sudden realization that they were about to be the center of attention.

“Oh no, they’re filming us!” Y/n exclaimed, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she instinctively ducked her head to hide her face in Lando’s shoulder.

“Y/n, look,” he laughed, his voice playful and teasing as he gently nudged her chin up with his fingers. “Let them capture the moment. I want everyone to see how lucky I am.”

Peeking out from behind her hair, she caught the proud gleam in his eyes. Lando’s demeanor radiated confidence, and as he looked straight at the cameras, a broad grin spread across his face, showcasing the dimple in his cheek that always made her weak in the knees. “This is my amazing girlfriend,” he announced, his voice playful but filled with genuine admiration. “She’s the best part of my life!”

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at his antics, the shyness still lingering but overshadowed by her affection for him. She felt warmth spreading through her, a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “Lando!” she murmured, trying to suppress a smile as she glanced at the cameras.

He wrapped his arms around her tighter, drawing her closer, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, ignoring the buzzing around them as he focused entirely on her. “Honestly, you should see how pretty you look right now, all shy and cute. I want to show you off to the world.”

The cameras captured every moment—the way Lando’s fingers danced lightly along her side, the way he couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he watched her blush deepen. The crew around them murmured, impressed by the genuine connection between the two, a stark contrast to the cold and professional atmosphere typically found in the paddock.

“See? I told you, you’re gorgeous,” he said softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his touch sending little sparks across her skin. “And this?” He gestured vaguely at their surroundings. “This is just the beginning of the day. I have a feeling things will heat up once they call us back out there.”

She chuckled, playfully rolling her eyes. “What do you mean? You want to take me on a victory lap?”

“If it means I get to show off how beautiful you are, then absolutely!” Lando’s enthusiasm was infectious, and it made her heart soar. The way he looked at her with such pride made her feel like the only person in the room, even amidst the chaos of the garage.

As they continued to wait, the rain began to lighten, and the crew prepared for the eventual announcement from the FIA. Y/n nestled into him, feeling safe and cherished. Lando’s racing suit felt slightly damp against her cheek, but that only added to the feeling of being enveloped in warmth.

“Just so you know,” he murmured, his breath warm against her hair, “no matter what happens out there today, I’m glad I have you here with me. You make all this chaos worthwhile.”

She turned her head to meet his gaze, her heart swelling with affection. “And you make waiting in a damp garage the best time ever.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #f1 #f1 imagine #fluff #f1 fanfic #reader insert #f1 x reader #lando noris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris #lando x reader #f1 fic #formula 1 #formula racing #formula one #x reade

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harrysfolklore · 29 days ago

Note

we need a fic about carlos’ win and piastri sisters’ reaction to it

THE LITTLE BITCH WON 🥺 ahhh im so happy for carlos, i had to write this ! i hope yo like thisss

READ LITTLE BITCH HERE

The Mexico City sunrise painted the sky as you and Carlos made your way to the track. He'd been unusually quiet during breakfast, that focused energy already building.

"Nervous?" you asked, squeezing his hand as your driver navigated through the early morning traffic.

"No," he said automatically, then caught your knowing look. "Maybe a little. Starting from pole here… the run to Turn 1 is so long."

"You've got this," you brought his hand to your lips.

"Max will be aggressive-"

"And you'll handle it," you cut him off. "Like the little bitch you are."

That broke his tension, making him laugh. "How do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make me feel better by insulting me."

"It's a gift," you grinned. "Now stop overthinking and kiss me before we get to the track and you go all serious racing driver on me."

He obliged, one hand tangling in your hair as he pulled you close. The kiss was deep and slow, full of everything he wasn't saying.

When you pulled back, his brown eyes locked into yours, a soft edge on them that made you melt.

It was hard to think that those same eyes glared you across the paddock once and now you were about to complete five months of being his girlfriend.

When you arrived at Ferrari, Reyes and Carlos Sr. were already there. Reyes pulled you into a warm hug while Carlos got swept up in pre-race preparations.

"My girl," she kissed both your cheeks. "You look beautiful today."

"Thank you, Reyes," you said, squeezing her hands before your eyes unconsciously drifted to the McLaren area.

"You're going to check on your brother?" she asked knowingly.

"Am I that predictable?"

"No, mi amor. Just a good sister."

You couldn't help but smile at that. Over the months you've slowly learned to not feel like you needed to choose between Carlos and Oscar, it was a slow process but their support made it easier.

You found Carlos doing his final preparations. "I'm going to check on Osc for a bit.”

He nodded, already half in race mode. "Tell him I said he's got this. The McLaren's race pace looked good."

"I will," you kissed his cheek. "See you on the podium, little bitch."

His engineer snorted, trying to cover it with a cough.

The walk to McLaren was filled with nervous energy. Early fans were already filling the grandstands, the atmosphere electric with anticipation.

The McLaren garage was quieter than Ferrari, the mood still heavy from yesterday's qualifying. You found Oscar in his driver room, staring intently at track maps.

"Brought you coffee," you held out his favorite pre-race drink. "And Carlos says your race pace looked good."

"Thanks," he took the cup but didn't meet your eyes. "For both."

You sat beside him, studying his face. "Talk to me, Osc. What's really going on?"

He was quiet for so long you thought he might not answer.

"I just..." he set down the coffee, running both hands through his hair. "Sometimes I feel like I'm not good enough for this. Like everyone made a mistake choosing me."

Your heart broke. "Oscar..."

"And I know it's stupid. I know I've earned my place here, but days like yesterday... it just brings all those doubts back."

"Look at me," you waited until he met your eyes. "Do you remember when you were ten, and you came home crying because some kid said you'd never make it to F1?"

A small smile tugged at his lips. "And you made him eat dirt at school the next day."

"Exactly. And what did I tell you then?"

"That I was meant for this," his voice softened. "That you could see it in the way I drove, even in karts."

"And has that changed?"

"No, but-"

"No buts," you took his hands. "You're exactly where you're supposed to be, Oscar Piastri. Bad qualifyings don't change that. Bad races don't change that. You're my little brother, and I've never been wrong about you."

He squeezed your hands. "How do you always know what to say?"

"Big sister superpower," you kissed his forehead. "Now drink your coffee and show them what you can do from P17.”

“Thank you, sister,” he squeezed your shoulder, “Now go back to your man, he’s driving like a beast this weekend.”

When you returned to Ferrari, the pre-race energy was at its peak. Carlos was in his final preparations, but his eyes found yours immediately.

"Oscar okay?" he mouthed.

You nodded, giving him a thumbs up. Another side effect of your relationship was that Oscar and Carlos became closer than ever. Oscar looked up to him and Carlos grew so fond of him that he cared about him like an older brother.

It was something not even in your wildest dreams would make sense a year ago. But right now felt like the perfect dynamic.

The garage began clearing for the grid walk. Carlos pulled you aside quickly.

"Para suerte," he murmured, kissing you deeply.

"Little bitch," you whispered against his lips. "Go win this thing."

Reyes and Carlos Sr. were waiting in the garage, both greeting you with warm hugs as you settled in to watch the start.

"Nervous?" Reyes asked, taking your hand.

"Always," you admitted. "For both of them."

The formation lap began, your heart pounding as you watched Carlos lead the field around. The ambient temperature was rising, making tire management crucial.

"He's got this," Carlos Sr. said confidently. "Look how smooth his formation lap is."

The garage fell silent as five red lights appeared above the start line. Your hand found Reyes', both of you holding your breath. The Mexican heat was stifling, but you barely noticed, every nerve focused on the Ferrari at the front of the grid.

"Vamos, hijo," Carlos Sr. whispered, his usual composed demeanor cracking with nervous energy.

The lights went out, and twenty cars launched forward into the long run to Turn 1. Carlos got a perfect start, but Max's Red Bull was immediately in his slipstream, the blue car looming in Carlos's mirrors. Side by side they went into the first corner, neither giving an inch.

"Come on, come on," you whispered, unconsciously leaning forward.

Carlos held firm on the inside line, forcing Max to take the longer way around. Through Turn 2, the Ferrari emerged still leading, and the garage erupted. Engineers who usually maintained professional calm were jumping up and down.

"Tranquila, mi amor," Reyes squeezed your hand. "Look how controlled he is."

The pit stop window approached, tension ratcheting up. Ferrari brought Charles in first, the stop clean but nerve-wracking.

"Pushing too hard on those tires," Carlos Sr. observed as Carlos finally pitted.

When Carlos crossed the finish line first, the garage exploded. You hugged Reyes, both of you crying and laughing. Carlos Sr. wrapped you both in a bear hug, his usual composure forgotten as he shouted "¡Vamos!" repeatedly.

Through happy tears, you saw Carlos pump his fist as he drove past, and you couldn't be happier for him.

The podium ceremony felt eternal. When they finally played the Spanish anthem, you saw Carlos's eyes glistening as he sang along. He caught your gaze in the crowd and winked, making your heart flutter just like it did that first time you saw him win in Australia.

Back then, you tried to play it cool, like you didn't care that he won. But right now the story was completely different.

After the ceremonies and media obligations, Carlos finally made it back to the team. He lifted you off your feet the moment he saw you, spinning you around as you laughed.

"Mi amor," he breathed against your lips before kissing you deeply.

"My champion," you whispered back. "My little bitch."

He laughed, pressing his forehead to yours. "Only yours."

Carlos received hugs, cheers and champagne showers from friends, team members and family. After taking some photos and watching him complete more interviews, it was time to head out and celebrate.

"I'm going to check on Oscar one more time," you told Carlos, as you walked through the paddock.

"Tell him to come to dinner," Carlos said. "He drove well today, P8 from P17."

You found Oscar in the McLaren garage, already changed and packing up.

"Hey champ," you smiled. "Coming to dinner with us?"

He gave you a small smile back. "Think I'll pass tonight. Bit tired, and…" he paused. "Just want some quiet, you know?"

You studied his face. "You sure? Carlos specifically asked for you to come."

"I know, and tell him thanks," Oscar squeezed your hand. "But you guys should celebrate properly. I'm good, really. Just going to order room service and study the race data."

You pulled him into a hug. "You drove amazingly today. P8 from P17 is no joke."

"Thanks, sis," he hugged you back tight. "Go celebrate with your winner. Just... maybe not too loudly in the hotel? The walls are thin."

"OSCAR!"

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 376,528 others

ynpiastri MY LITTLE CHAMPION BITCH 🥲🥲 i’m SO proud of you mi amor, we all are. one more win this season showing everyone the talented driver that you are. the best is yet to come ❤️

also beyond proud of my baby brother as always, your determination and ability to push through every setback never ceases to amaze me. chin up, i know you got this

oh and lando got p2 i guess

GRACIAS MEXICO CITY 😩

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username1 AHHHH

username2 SIMP PIASTRI

username3 this is still wild to me they used to hate each other’s guts

scuderiaferarri ❤️

username4 this is wild bc she hated him when he won in australia 😭

nicolepiastri Congrats Carlos! Come visit and bring embarrassing stories of my daughter please

↳ ynpiastri MUM😩

↳ username1 she’s an icon

reyesvdec Te amamos ❤️

↳ username2 the sainz love her so much i could cry

username5 HELP THE LINE ABOUT LANDO 😭

oscarpiastri Love you sis. Congrats to Carlos ❤️

↳ carlossainz55 Thank you brother

↳ username2 this would send 2023 me into a coma

↳ username3 THIS PLOT TWIST

carlossainz55 Te amo

At the restaurant, Lando was the only driver who joined your celebration with the Sainz family. He fit right in, making everyone laugh with stories about Carlos.

"You know," Lando said, taking a sip of wine, "I used to be Reyes and Carlos Sr.'s favorite adopted son."

"Used to be?" you raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, then you came along with your whole enemies-to-lovers storyline and stole my spot," he pouted dramatically. "Now I'm like the forgotten middle child."

"Ay, Lando," Reyes laughed, reaching over to pat his cheek. "You're still our favorite British son."

"Small comfort when YN gets all the good Spanish mom cooking," Lando grumbled good-naturedly.

After dinner, it was time for the party celebrating Carlos' win. He claimed that he didn't want to drink much, but that went out the window when his friends lifted him up as 'Smooth Operator' played.

"SMOOTH OPERATOOOOR!" they sang terribly off-key. Carlos was laughing, one hand clutching his drink, the other reaching for you.

"Join me up here, mi amor!"

"Absolutely not," you called back, but you were laughing too.

Hours later, the celebrations were winding down. You stood outside waiting for your car, Carlos' arms wrapped around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. The Mexico City air was cooler now, but his warmth kept you comfortable.

"I still can't believe it," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your neck. "Second win this season."

You turned in his arms to face him, taking in his slightly flushed cheeks and bright eyes. The victory high was still there, mixed with the pleasant buzz from the celebrations.

"You know what's different this time?" you asked, playing with the collar of his shirt.

"Hmm?"

"I don't have to pretend I'm not happy for you," you smiled, remembering Australia. "Don't have to hide how proud I am."

His eyes softened as he pulled you closer. "You were terrible at hiding it even then."

"I was not!"

"Mi amor," he laughed, pressing his forehead to yours. "You called me 'little bitch' with way too much affection."

"That was pure hatred," you protested weakly.

"Sure it was," he grinned. "Just like when you stared at me during the podium ceremony."

"I was plotting your demise."

"With heart eyes?"

"Shut up," you buried your face in his chest, feeling it rumble with laughter.

"Never," he kissed the top of your head. "I love reminding you how bad you were at hating me."

"I'm starting to hate you again right now."

"No you're not," he tilted your chin up, eyes twinkling. "You love me."

Before you could retort, the car pulled up. As you settled into the backseat, Carlos pulled you close again.

"For the record," he whispered in your ear, "I was terrible at pretending too. Ask Charles - he said I talked about you constantly."

"To complain?"

"That's what I told myself," he smiled against your hair. "But I think everyone knew better."

You intertwined your fingers with his, watching the city lights blur past. "We were kind of idiots, weren't we?"

"The biggest," he agreed. "But we figured it out eventually."

"Yeah," you turned to kiss him softly. "We did."

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boypied · 1 month ago

Text

BUT YOU'RE MY STEPDAD... *PART 2*

pairings: stepdad!henry cavill x male reader

summary: The build-up of sexual tension comes to an end when your stepdad Henry can't go on ignoring what happened that lustful night anymore.

requested by: anonymous

warnings: SMUT, anal sex, pet names, hair pulling, rough fucking, spitting, cheating.

part one

You loved him. You loved him, and you know you shouldn't have. You couldn't stop thinking about the way his hand caressed your skin that lustful night, the way he instantly knew what spot would have you squirming like a bitch in heat, how you could shoot buckets of cum with just one thrust of his beefy cock. He claimed you, he owned you and then acted like nothing happened that night. Your blood boiled when you heard the bed squeaking and moans coming from their bedroom. She didn't deserve him, You knew deep down that she couldn't satisfy Henry the way you could, the way you did! That bitch never liked you, maybe she realised Henry secretly liked you better or maybe she was just super homophobic but atleast she won't be around this weekend and you get too have Henry all to your self. You made sure to wear all the most revealing outfits for the first day your mother was away, Henry's eyes widened once you graced him with your presence. He was practically salivating at the mouth when you reached up for something from the top shelf and your skirt lifted up to reveal your jockstrap, the one that perfectly cups your ass.

"M-Morning" he chokes out, spitting out some of his coffee. His eyes admiring the way the jockstrap hugs your ass in the utter most perfect way, "morning daddy" you say seductively as you slowly walk over to him he chokes slightly trying to avoid eye contact with you. "Any plans for today?" Henry asks you politely trying to change the subject as you slowly straddle onto his lap wrapping your arms around his neck "I was thinking maybe we could spend today together... connected" you say in a sultry tone. Henry's hands gently grip onto your waist, he bites his lip trying to have some self restrain to not fuck his step-sons brains out again. "We shouldn't." He mutters out softly in a quiet tone before he gets interrupted as you begin to grind your hips down against his clothed cock, "I know you want me.. I see the way you've been eyeing me up" you say in a whisper causing his body to shudder beneath your whisper.

"You think about me, don't you." You whisper in his ear once more, "when you fuck her. You think about me" You say causing his eyes to widen as he's been caught out, he slowly nods his head before you passionately pull his face into a kiss. Feeling his lips smack against yours it really takes you back, his tongue slides on top of yours as he dominates your mouth once more, the atmosphere hornier then before. Henry's grip on your hips tighten as you continue to buck your hips back and forth causing friction against his cock, you break the kiss and bite down on Henry's lower lip tugging on it slightly causing your step-daddy to let out a sultry moan. You slowly climb off his lap and you take his hand pulling him up and making his follow after you upstairs and into your bedroom where it all began originally.

You seductively crawl onto the bed getting in a sexy position where you begin undressing out of everything you have on, Henry watches from afar where he joins in the stripping session where he reveals his muscular hairy body that you love so much, the body that has been in every single one of your jerk off sessions. He crawls on top of you feeling his warmth corrupt your body, your hand travels down his body until it reaches his large hanging cock and balls, "so thick daddy" you whimper out as you wrap your hand around his shaft jerking it slightly 'till it's rock hard.

Henry brings his fingers up to your mouth "open," he commands, which you obliged. He gently pushes his two fingers past your lips and into your wet mouth, his fingers grazing across your tongue as he slides his fingers deeper into your mouth, and they hit the back of your throat causing you to gag slightly "wider" he commands as you open your mouth wider opening your throat as his fingers go deeper causing your eyes to roll back. Henry pulls his soaked fingers out of your mouth as he brings them towards your tight pucker, gently circling them before he begins to push them past the tight ring.

"D-Daddy!" You whimper out as his fingers slide fully inside you, "you like that baby boy?" He coos in your ear as his body lays on top of yours, his fingers curve back and forth probing your sweet spot, causing your body to shudder beneath him. Henry's eyes meet yours as he bites his lip, watching you shake beneath him, "open wide and stick your tongue out," he commands, and you obliged once again as he sees your tongue come out your mouth he spits in your mouth "now swallow" he demands. The taste of his spit had your cock stiffen, your hole tighten and your nipples harden. His musky scent and sweat dripping off his face from how fast his fingers are working is enough to drive you over the edge.

You bite your lip. "p-put it in," you voice in a begging tone, "I thought you'd never ask," he says in a seductive tone before pulling himself away and lining himself up before thrusting in fully giving you no time to adjust to his size, your body just accommodating to him. Henry grips onto your hips, thrusting back and forth. "F-FUCK! I forgot how good you feel." He groans as he bucks his hips back and forth, feeling your hole tighten around his length.

Your eyes follow up his muscular body to meet his face, pure ecstasy on his face as he pumps back and forth into you. Your eyes widen as he wraps his hand around your cock and he begins jerking you quickly bringing you closer and closer to your release, "so much better... then your mother!" Henry groans louder and louder causing a smirk to appear on your face, Henry's thrust become sloppy as he begins to spurt his cum inside your tight hole, "I-IM CUMMING!" You scream out as you shoot your load all over your stomach.

Henry continues to thrust back and forth pushing his cum deeper and deeper inside of you, he pulls himself out and flops down beside you pulling you closer towards him in a snuggle. "You know I love you... right?" He whispers sweetly in your ear, you nod your head feeling his cum seap out the tight ring of your hole "I know." You say pecking his lips snuggling your head into the nook of his neck. He gently strokes your head as you fall asleep. "My boy." he says possessively. He leans over to the side, grabbing his phone to take a picture of them sleeping naked together, making it his home screen, "my boy.." He whispers to himself.

taglist - @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronaaaaaaa @irlsamcarpenter

#henry cavill #henry cavill x male reader #henry cavill smut #x male reader #fanfic #x male y/n #gay #male reader #smut #gay smut #henry cavill gay #henry cavill x you

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the-tarot-witch22 · 4 months ago

Text

Your first kiss with your future spouse 💋 - Pick a pile

*Note : Some language and se*ual message too so minors DNI*

Pile 1/ Pile 2

Pile 3/ Pile 4

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me! | My Paid Readings | My insta

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you - 6 of swords, 4 of swords, Ace of wands, The lovers)

Okay so the first thing i felt was very romantic, like you would be waiting for him to make the very first move and, the first kiss will be around buildings and a very clear sky, a place where there is not so many people around you, a tourist place, but it will be quite magical you would not want to stop at all like just keep going, you both will be waiting for this moment for very long, for some of you i saw a vision where you both would be holding eye contact with each other and just you lean forward at same time, smile and presses your lips on each other, it will be quite passionate unlike any other kiss you have had, for some of you it will be the very first time, the kiss will make you feel all sorts of emotions, take you to other place, just like another verse, that's how much you would love it, for some of you i see there will be some tension around you like you are contemplating talking discussing and you will be venting and here he will come and just presses his lips on yours and you smile and kiss back, a very sweet moment between you both honestly, I also see for some of you, you guys could be in some sort of restaurant, and hospital or airport you would be so happy to see each other you just both lose yourself in each other, you would feel at home very safe when you kiss them, I also heard " i have been dying to this, thank you for making me the happiest person in the world", the kiss between you both will also be very quite sensual like the atmosphere would be set your future spouse would be planning to kiss you from the very moment but they will hold back, after your kiss i also feel you will melt in each other's embrace, forgetting everyone and everything just the two of you , I also heard "baby, it's us against the world, and if the world is against you, i am against the world", they are so romantic, The kiss will be a very divinely period for you both, Like this was supposed to happen sooner or later type of thing, the kiss will make you feel on the cloud nine.

Honestly? cutest! even i am feeling all lovey-dovey right now, good for you my pile 1! I am so happy for you!

Pile 2:

(The cards I got for you - Nine of cups, The magician, The hermit and the queen of swords)

Okay so the very first thing i felt from this pile was nervous and shy energy as well as the kiss would be very manifested, like you wanted to do this in forever with your future spouse, you might not have had a good first kiss or some of you might even regret doing it or wasting it on someone, for some of you like pile you are still haven't kissed anyone or waiting for the right person if you also feel connected to pile 1 do see it as well it might have some messages for you! Okay so the first kiss between you both could be on wedding day, some people here have a very good self control, or when where you will be celebrating a win and you kiss your future spouse because you just feel so happy with each other, like you are grateful for them being with you, your first kiss could be a dream come true, like everything you have ever desired or wanted, a literal fairytale, I also feel you will be planning your first kiss with them for a very long time and when it finally happens you would be the happiest person ever, I also see lots of giggles it could be you, because as i said a literal dream kiss, Okay so i see a vision where you just when kiss each other, feel so lost like wow, never thought a kiss could feel like it, the atmosphere would have greenery, or it might be also be raining or a windy day for some of you, like as I said a literal dream come true for you both, you won't be regretting it at all, but i also feel you guys be quite nervous after like if they liked it, but spoiler they will love it no matter if you were not good at first try they would cherish the moment of you to kiss them, for some of you the area could be surrounded by water, a beautiful place, i heard "bali", maybe you have your first kiss there, or somewhere with water surrounding the area, I also feel some of you could be taking minty fresh breath, so you guys don't feel self conscious, no matter what your future spouse will love it, i also feel your fs will be the one to initiate the kiss or giving you eyes and finally have the courage to go for it!, some of you will be spending this moment at home with them and that's when you greet them with the kiss, for some of you this pile could be very logical and intellectual, do think with their mind so the very first move from them will melt you, you guys would be enjoying this moment a lot, you both will, this will be your first time feeling this way, you guys could also be full of nerves but a kiss with them will ease everything the stress, the worries. I heard "just be you", i love that.

wow pile 2 your fs is quite a romantic, and you could do the embarrassing thing with them and they will still adore the freak outta you! love that!

Pile 3:

(The cards I got for you - 2 of cups, 3 of pentacles, judgement and king of wands)

Okay so for some of you guys it could be you making the first move, like they are taking so much time and you are so tired and you just kiss them on whim they would be first very shocked but will kiss you back with same intensity, it could be a dream come true for both of you, especially you guys, i also feel very balanced or masculine energy from this pile whoever is reading it, for some of you the first kiss is cosmic like fireworks, sparks everywhere you just feel like "wow" so is this how it supposed to feel type of vibe. You both will be focusing on each other a lot, and for some of you, you will be doing it in early period of relationship, i also see a alleyway, like kind of deserted and you kiss him while put your hands in his sweatshirt, and he pins you against the wall and say "my turn, sweetheart", the first kiss between you both will be emotional as well as passionate, very sexual too, like you have been craving for each other, some of you could be doing or filming it, for a memory for you and your kids to watch, i also feel he will be smiling a lot against your lips, like smirking, which will make you weak in your knees, like damn it, bro give me a ice shower right now so fucking sweet, for some of you the first kiss could be in the work place, educational place, like unusual place for sure like a sweet peck, which will leave you wanting more, it will be a very new experience for you i also feel your future spouse will be touching your lips a lot or looking at them, with them you would be left with no worries, this is the kiss you deserved to have with your future spouse, you will see the difference when it happens, some of you could be quite spiritual in this pile, or starting to go into spirituality, you would not be worrying for anything when this finally happens with your future spouse, for some of you he could be taking charge and catching you off guard with your kiss, "like enough, i need to taste you" is what i hear. Definitely hungry for you.

Pile 3 you guys are quite hungry for each other, love that, love to see you guys in control <3

Pile 4:

(The cards I got for you - knight of swords, 2 of wands, knight of wands and knight of cups)

Okay so very few of you not EVERYONE but few of you could have their first kiss by someone from kindergarten? like i see two kids one kissed other one of their cheek it was so random but i need to write it out for you guys, might mean something for you guys, so random. But anyways let's start, For some of you be having an argument or disagreement and they shut you with kiss which will lead to a kiss and then sex time for you both, lol, they are quite naughty for you like would just go for it, i also heard "let's do this", "i have waited so long for you, darling", mhm they are feeling quite emotional, and just wants to be with you now, I also feel when you kiss for the first time you guys could be having conversation, intense deep talks, your future spouse would be doing his best to make you feel very comfortable with them and then they make you feel so at ease, and then they make the move towards, okay so i see a vision where they put, hand behind your neck, pulls you close, while you both are breathing hard, chests heaving up and down, and they tease you with nibble on your lips, they kiss you hard seductively, I also feel many of you could be using their tongues, SO FREAKING HOT, gosh, then they pull you in them whisper something in your ear and continue to make you feel good, I also feel in the heat of moment they could be touching your waist, caressing every part of you, i am also hearing lots of heavy breathing, no wonder its SO HOT in here, they will be exploring every part of your mouth your body , they will kiss your neck too give you hickey and just not let you go hold you so tight in their arms, just mm. They are also quite a gentleman and chivalrous person who has been planning to do this for you with who knows how long, for some of you this will happen in amusement park, or on a first date with them, the kiss would be quite emotional yet loving, very balanced.

OMG guys i am so in love, so happy you guys would be experiencing that! you deserve that <3

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

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jaythes1mp · 5 months ago

Text

Your secrets are ours, kid

Yandere BatFam x Reader — CH10 -> CH9 -> CH8 -> CH7 -> CH6 -> CH5 -> CH4 -> CH3 -> CH2 -> CH1

8919 words, 46418 characters, 408 sentences, 290 paragraphs, 32.8 pages.

The car comes to a stop outside a fancy restaurant. The building is huge, the exterior lit up with soft, warm lights. A Doorman is standing outside, the entrance framed by a pair of elegant lion statues either side.

Bruce gets out first, holding out his hand to help you out of the car. His face is neutral as you step onto the sidewalk, his hand still gripping yours. He gives a short nod to the Doorman, who immediately opens the door to the restaurant without a word.

The interior of the restaurant is just as impressive as the outside. High ceilings, a grand lobby, and a row of archways leading to the dining areas. Expensive artwork hangs on the walls, the lighting soft but flattering. The interior is opulent, with glittering chandeliers and high arched ceilings. The soft buzz of conversation fills the air, mixing with the sound of silverware clinking against china.

The sound of soft classical music filled the air, mingling with low murmurs of hushed conversations. Almost immediately, as soon as Bruce steps inside, the atmosphere hushes. Every eye turns to look at him, then at you. The way everyone was watching you made you squirm. It was like everyone except you was in on some sort of secret.

Bruce leads you through the restaurant, his hand is still holding yours, his steps confident and assured. You get the sense that the staff know him well as you both pass, various people nod in greeting as Bruce murmurs a few words to them.

Finally, you reach a private booths, secluded in a corner, away from any potential interruptions.

The private booth you’re settled into has a dark, rich oak interior, with a large semi-circular leather booth wrapping around the table in the centre. The table is covered in a crisp white tablecloth, with a variety of fine china and sparkling silverware laid out.

Bruce motions for you to take a seat as he slips into the booth opposite you, his eyes still quietly taking in your features. You mumble a soft thanks in return. Feeling well underdressed.

A waiter appears beside your table, a tablet in his hand, a fake, courteous smile on his face as he addresses you both.

"Good evening, Mr Wayne. What can I get for you tonight?"

Bruce’s voice is measured as he responds, his gaze never leaving you. "Good evening. A bottle of the house red, and two glasses, please."

The waiter nods and disappears, leaving the two of you alone and enveloped in quiet. There's a strained atmosphere in the air, Bruce's eyes watching you intently as you shift awkwardly in the booth.

The atmosphere in the booth is tense, the silence between you and Bruce almost deafening. Trying to break the ice, you attempt a joke, your voice soft as you speak.

"Buffet, huh? You'd think a place this fancy would have a set menu."

Bruce quirks an eyebrow at your joke, a small smile flickering across his face. Despite the situation, he can't help but find it endearing.

He leans back in the leather booth, his broad frame taking up the majority of the space. "Well, I figured you might prefer to pick your own food.”

He pauses for a moment, his eyes still trained on you, "Unless you'd rather I pick for you."

Your chuckle is nervous and soft, a strange mix of anxiety and amusement. You feel a touch out of place, sitting in this posh restaurant, with Bruce Wayne staring across at you.

"No, no," you say quickly, "I can pick my own food. I don't want to trouble you."

The tension in the air is thicker now, the weight of expectations almost palpable. You fidgeted nervously in your seat, your eyes darting around the booth before settling back on Bruce's unwavering gaze.

You take a deep breath, your fingers fiddling anxiously with the hem of your shirt. You feel embarrassed, almost vulnerable in your ignorance. "Um, actually," you admit, "I'm not really sure what's on the menu here."

There's a hint of vulnerability in your voice, a vulnerability you'd usually try to hide in these situations. But in front of Bruce, you can feel yourself slipping, your guard lowering just an inch. He always seemed to leave that effect with you.

His expression softens as he watches you fidget nervously across from him. He notices every little detail, the way your fingers play with the hem of your shirt, the way your gaze darts around the booth before settling back on him.

Bruce's eyes soften as he hears the hint of vulnerability in your voice. It's a sound that's all too familiar to him, yet coming from you, it tugs at his heartstrings nonetheless. He leans forward, his forearms resting against the table, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Don't worry about it," he reassures you, his voice gentle, "You don’t have to pretend to have a taste for fine dining or anything. You can tell me what you want, or I can order something for you."

Bruce's words are a surprising contrast to the confident, almost arrogant persona he usually exudes. Here, in this moment, he seems... gentle, almost fragile in his own way.

He pauses for a moment before continuing, his eyes studying your face for any kind of response. "Although, I have to admit, I'm a little surprised to find you out alone at this time of night."

Your head snaps up suddenly as realisation hits you. "Oh, shit." You curse under your breath, your eyes wide with realisation.

The guilt settles in as you start to consider the possibility that you've interrupted something important. Maybe Bruce had a prior commitment, a business meeting or a social event, and you've stumbled right into the middle of it.

"I'm sorry," you say quickly, your voice filled with genuine remorse. "I didn't mean to intrude. Did I ruin your plans for tonight?"

Bruce watches you carefully as your realization sinks in, your eyes widening in guilt. He notices how your body tenses, how your fingers twist nervously in your lap.

He lets your words hang in the air for a moment before responding. "Ruin my plans? You think you're the one interrupting my night?"

His words are soft, but there's a hint of amusement in his tone. As if the thought of you interrupting his plans is almost absurd to him.

Bruce had patiently waited for nearly forty-five minutes, his evening already planned out. He had booked out the entire restaurant, reserved for just the two of you, and a select few of nobodies, with the kitchen specially rented for your taste in food. He had gone through all of this trouble, just to see you.

And now, sitting across from him, you had believed that your little run-in had ruined all of his well-laid plans.

Bruce sees the guilt and worry in your expression, your shoulders tense and brow furrowed. He can't help but feel a pang of something within his chest at your expression. Of course, you would think you ruined his plans, that you somehow inconvenienced him or got in the way of something important.

As your words hang in the air, he considers telling you the truth. That these were his plans. That spending time with you - watching you grow, listening to you breathe, hearing your voice - meant more to him than anything else that the world could ever offer.

Spending time with you, his precious one, trumped all else. He would willingly cancel any other plans, rearrange any meetings, just for the opportunity to sit across from you like this. Spending time with you trumps anything and everything else.

Tonight, however, he would feign ignorance. He would act as if you were merely a convenient disruption to his otherwise busy schedule. He didn't want you to know the extent of his dedication and devotion to you. Not yet. One day you would come to be aware of the fact. Tonight however, he’ll pretend.

Bruce's face betrays nothing as he watches the guilt and worry etched on your features. He can see it clearly, the worry and guilt in the set of your shoulders, the furrow of your brow. It hurts him to see you this way, to think that somehow, you are the one who ruined his evening plans.

As your words hang in the air, a deep, silent pang resonates within his chest. He can see the tension in your shoulders, the furrow of your brow as you chew on your lip. He notices every little change in your expression, and it makes his heart ache a little bit. He wants to tell you. He wants to reassure you. To tell you that you didn't ruin anything, that you were the plan.

Finally, he lets out a soft sigh, his voice breaking the silence. "You didn't ruin anything," he says, his voice low and reassuring. "I'm not too bothered. It's not like I had something particularly important to do tonight."

He pauses for a moment, watching as your expression changes to reflect the relief that washes over you. He can see the tension leaving your body as his words sink in.

He lets out a soft chuckle, his mouth curving into a small smile. "Besides, I'd rather spend my night out with you than anyone else."

He's treading dangerously close to revealing just how important you are to him, how much you actually mean. But he just can't keep the words from escaping. To not let you know who you really are to him. You were his child. His sweet, broken, child. One that he will soon mend back together gently. Give you everything you deserved yet never got to experience.

Your expression immediately relaxes, relief washing over your face as you take in his words. It's hard to describe the feeling that floods through you. It's a strange mixture of comfort, surprise, and reassurance.

His soft chuckle and smile bring a warmth to your chest that only he can manage to ignite.

As he says he'd rather spend the night with you than anyone else, your breath catches in your throat.

You can feel the danger in his words, his care and devotion carefully concealed behind a thinly veiled facade. There's a raw honesty to his tone that makes you shiver.

The meaning behind his words hitting you like a wave. This man, this powerful, wealthy, influential man, would rather spend his time with you.

You have to bite your lip to conceal the small smile. No one has said they’d rather spend their time with you. Definitely not that woman. It so unexpected and makes you feel all warm and fuzzy.

The way your expression relaxes, the surprise and relief etched on your features, makes his chest tighten a little bit. It's a feeling he's never experienced before. You're reacting in a way that is completely foreign to him. Completely new. Something he's never really gotten to experience.

Bruce notices that you're biting back a smile, and a wave of satisfaction courses through him. He's able to elicit such an unexpected, genuine reaction from you. One he's sure you don't give to just anyone. It's a feeling of pride.

He’ll have to message Tim to send him the cameras footage of that moment later.

The waiter suddenly reappears at the table, a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands.

Bruce's attention momentarily diverts as he nods his thanks to the waiter, taking the bottle and the pair of glasses.

He gives the waiter a dismissive gesture, indicating that he can take his leave. The waiter murmurs a soft, "Please enjoy your evening, Mr Wayne," before he exits the booth once more.

He pops the cork from the wine with ease, his hands almost like a practiced expert.

He then pours a generous amount into both glasses, the liquid a dark, rich color as it sloshes against the glass.

He hands you one of the glasses, his fingers brushing against yours for just a moment as his eyes meet yours.

"Take a sip," he says, his voice surprisingly gentle.

“Oh. I’m not the biggest wine drin...” the words die on your tongue by the encouraging grin on his lips. You look down to the rich red liquid, swirling the glass for a second before closing your eyes and drowning down a small sip.

It... wasn’t bad.

He watches as you hesitate, the words dying on your tongue, before taking a small sip of the wine. He can see the surprise flicker in your eyes as you taste the liquid. There's a hint of doubt on your face, as if you're expecting it to taste awful.

When you don't wince or make a facial expression, he lets out a soft chuckle. A satisfied sound that's low and gravelly.

"See? I don't have that bad taste in wine, do I?"

You manage to make a small sound of agreement, despite the heat of embarrassment that creeps up your face.

His chuckle, low and gravelly, sends a shiver down your spine. It's a sound that never fails to make you feel both calm and a bit flustered.

You take another, slightly larger sip of wine this time, the liquid warm as it slides down your throat, leaving a pleasant burn in its wake.

He observes as you swallow the wine, his eyes never leaving your face. He can see the slight flush to your cheeks, the way your body reacts to the warm liquid in your system. There's a small spark of triumph in his eyes.

He takes a sip of his own glass, his gaze still fixed on you.

"You're not a frequent drinker, right?" he asks, his tone casual. He already knows the answer.

You shake your head, the heat still present on your cheeks. You take another small sip of the wine, almost in an effort to cool down.

"No, I'm not," you admit, your voice a touch more shy than you wanted it to be, "I don't really drink that much. Bad experiences in the past.”

It was the truth. You didn't drink often, and you certainly didn't want to accidentally embarrass yourself in front of Bruce Wayne of all people. And the men that woman used to bring home left a sour view on alcohol for you.

His eyes soften a bit at your admission, a look of quiet understanding passing over his features. He lets the silence hang for a moment before responding.

"I see," he says. There's an undertone in his voice, almost a hint of anger at the implications of your past.

But he doesn't press the subject any further. He has his suspicions, but he won't ask you to dig up painful memories. At least, not here. Not now. Maybe someday. Maybe someday he'll get you to open up to him fully.

As the quiet stretches between you two, you take another sip of the wine, letting the warmth of the liquid soothe your nerves.

You can feel his eyes watching you, his gaze steady and intense, even as he tries to soften his features. It feels both terrifying and reassuring at the same time. Terrifying, because you feel so seen under his gaze. And reassuring, because you trust that he's being sincere.

The wine is starting to take effect now, your head feeling a bit fuzzy, your inhibitions slightly lowered.

The change in topic is abrupt, but it allows you a moment to compose yourself.

Bruce's voice breaks the silence, his fingers absentmindedly rolling the stem of his wine glass between them as he addresses you. "Have you had enough time to think over what you're craving?" he inquires, his eyes fixed on your face, observing your expression. His gaze soft.

Your thoughts are slightly fuzzy now, the wine having settled in your stomach, making it easier for you to express yourself.

You think for a moment, your mind swirling as you try to think of something to eat. Your first instinct is to tell him it doesn't matter, that you can eat anything. But the look on his face, the way he's studying you, tells you that he won't accept that answer.

So you say the first thing that comes to your mind.

"Nuggets," you murmur.

Humiliation washes over you, the realization of your faux pas sinking in. You cringe inwardly, mentally kicking yourself for even entertaining the idea that there might be something like a children's menu in a high-class establishment like this one. There's practically a "no minors allowed" sign plastered over the door. You can almost hear the staff snickering behind your back.

You want to bang your head against the table, sink into the leather seats and disappear.

He can't help but raise an eyebrow at your response. Nuggets.

He almost wants to laugh, the sound bubbling up in his chest. He manages to hold it back however, sensing the embarrassment that's painted on your face. There's a certain... charm to your honest, albeit slightly tipsy response.

But he finds the suggestion endearing, the image of you with a plate of nuggets amusing. It's such a simple request, a request that so many people would immediately dismiss. But the fact that you had suggested it, had actually thought there was a possibility of this place offering such a thing, somehow makes his chest feel lighter.

Your ears burn with embarrassment, and your eyes fall to the table, avoiding his gaze. You half expect him to roll his eyes, to make some comment about how childish your choice is.

But instead, you notice a flicker of something in his eyes before he speaks. It's a mixture of surprise, and something akin to amusement.

He holds back a laugh, the sound coming out as a low rumble in his chest. When he speaks, there's a hint of a smile on his face. "Nuggets, huh?"

The heat on your face increases at his words, your cheeks flushed with a mixture of the wine and the embarrassment. Your hands fidget nervously in your lap, fingers twisting and untwisting, looking for something to do.

You can't believe you just admitted that. That you actually suggested you order nuggets in a fancy establishment like this one. God, this is so pathetic.

You open your mouth to try to amend your statement, trying to salvage the already ruined evening, but no words come out.

He notices your flustered state, the way your face is flushed and your hands nervously fidgeting in your lap. It's an endearing sight, and he feels a pang in his chest, a mixture of protectiveness and affection. He wants to reassure you, to tell you that there's nothing wrong with wanting nuggets.

He lets out another soft chuckle, his eyes softening even more as he speaks. "Hey, there's nothing wrong with that. I can order them for you."

He’s silently thanking Dick for the list of food places you frequent.

Your face only flushes deeper, the heat practically emanating from your skin now. You hadn't expected him to actually agree to it. You were sure he'd laugh, or tell you to pick something more suitable for your surroundings.

You hazard a glance up at him, meeting his gaze, and are met with a soft, earnest look in his eyes. He's not mocking you. He's not looking down on you.

The realisation sends a wave of relief through you, and the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. "You would? Really?"

Jason would have made fun of you for how you sounded.

"Of course," he responds immediately, his tone completely genuine.

He motions to the waiter, who's standing at a discrete distance, waiting to be summoned. It takes only a moment for the waiter to hurry over to the table, his expression schooled into perfect professionalism.

Bruce addresses the waiter bluntly. "Nuggets," he states, his eyes flicking back to you, silently asking you to confirm.

When you avoid the waiters eye contact Bruce lets out a small chuckle, quickly hidden into his palm as if he’d coughed. “And one medium rare steak with mixed vegetables.”

The waiter nods, his expression remaining neutral, though you can see a hint of bemusement in his eyes. To hear Bruce Wayne, billionaire and Gotham City's biggest philanthropist, order nuggets of all things must be an unusual sight for the man.

You can't help but feel relieved that the waiter doesn't comment on the order though. The last thing you need is even more embarrassment.

Your eyes widen a bit at the addition of the steak, and you shoot Bruce a questioning glance.

Bruce catches your questioning glance, his eyes sparkling with an impish mischief. He can see the surprise and confusion in your expression, and he can’t help but smirk a bit.

"Don't worry," he assures you, his tone a touch too innocent, “the steak's for me.”

You deadpan. Seriously? That was his way of assuaging your worries? Steak for him?

As you give him a flat look, he can't help but chuckle at your unimpressed expression.

"What?" he asks, feigning innocence, "I'm hungry."

He leans back into his seat, a small, amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he watches you. He can see the mixture of surprise and skepticism on your face, and he finds it almost endearing.

You roll your eyes, a small huff escaping your throat. Typical rich guy, ordering steak.

There's a comfortable silence that falls over the both of you, as you watch the waiter walk away from the table. The alcohol in your system has left you feeling a bit light-headed, and you can’t help but feel a bit more at ease. Like you can fully relax for once.

But a question burns at the back of your mind, and the alcohol makes it a bit easier to voice it.

You break the silence, your voice somewhat slurred as you speak. "Can I ask you something?" you say, your tone casual.

Bruce turns his attention fully back to you, his gaze steady and attentive. He can see the light flush on your cheeks, a result of the alcohol in your system.

"Of course," he responds, leaning forward a little bit, "ask me anything."

You pause for a moment, searching for the right words as you try to articulate your thoughts. Your mind is a muddled mess of alcohol and shyness, which makes it a bit harder than usual for you to speak. But with a bit of willpower, you manage to push the words out of your mouth.

"Why do you do what you do? Why do you want me to do it?" you ask, your voice soft.

His eyebrow raises in a silent, inquiring question, encouraging you to elaborate on your question.

Your voice cuts through the air, your words firm and a touch bewildered. "Everything," you gesture emphatically with your hand, the vague motion encompassing everything you're trying to convey. "The business. Helping people, charities. You could have anyone to do whatever you wanted."

You pause for a moment, your confusion and disbelief clear in your expression as you meet his gaze. "Why would you need to fund my random blog?"

Bruce leans back into his seat, his features taking on a contemplative look. He can sense the confusion and disbelief in your tone, and he can understand why you're asking such a question.

He takes a moment to answer, letting his words settle in your mind. When he speaks again, his voice is steady and sincere.

"It's simple really," he says, his eyes never leaving yours. "I see potential. I see someone who’s willing to try, to make a difference. I suppose I just want to give you the means to do it."

It’s a nice sentiment, but you can tell he’s holding something back.

Your eyes flick to his face, searching his expression for any hint of deception. But there’s nothing but honesty in his gaze. He truly believes in you, in your potential. The thought is both thrilling and terrifying.

You try to process his words, the weight of what he’s saying slowly sinking in.

There’s a question burning on the tip of your tongue, but you’re hesitant to ask it. It feels too personal, too vulnerable. But the alcohol in your system makes you brave, and the question slips out of your mouth before you have a chance to stop it.

"Why me?" Your voice is soft, almost inaudible.

Bruce's gaze softens at your question, his eyes studying your face intently.

"Why not you?" he replies. The words are simple, but they carry a weight to them.

He can see the vulnerability in your expression, the desire to hear a more detailed answer. But there’s a part of him that’s hesitant to fully divulge his reasons.

You lean back against the plush leather of your seat, your thoughts racing.

You're honestly not sure how to respond to that. The depth and sincerity behind his words catch you off guard, and you're momentarily at a loss for what to say.

Bruce watches the emotions play across your face, the mixture of surprise and flattery at his answer. He can tell you’re surprised, maybe even a bit wary in accepting his response. But he can also see a hint of curiosity, a hint of eagerness to know the why behind him.

He takes a subtle breath before he speaks, choosing his words carefully.

"Because I believe you have a voice worth listening to," he says quietly.

You bite your tongue, looking away in thought.

Bruce knew that his words would get to you. That he could charm his way through an explanation rather than admit the truth.

You can feel his words stirring something within you, a mixture of emotions. On one hand, it's flattering, almost dizzying, to know that someone like Bruce Wayne believes in you that much. But on the other hand, there's a nagging skepticism, an inkling that there's more to his reasons than he's letting on.

Your fingers pick at the fabric of your sleeve, a nervous habit you can never quite shake off. You glance up at him, your eyes meeting his.

"Is that really the only reason?" you ask, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Bruce can see the skepticism in your eyes, the way your fingers pick nervously at the fabric of your clothes. He can tell you're searching for more, that you want to hear a deeper reason for his actions.

His gaze doesn’t waver, his composure not faltering even a bit.

"Why? Do you think there's another reason?" he asks, his tone as casual as ever, betraying nothing of his inner thoughts.

You shake your head, feeling slightly flustered at his response. You had hoped he'd offer up more information, give you a deeper explanation. But he's not budging, not willing to divulge more than he's letting on.

You let out a small, frustrated huff, the sound almost inaudible. You're not sure how to respond to his casual denial, his nonchalance in dismissing your question.

For a brief moment, you almost contemplate asking more direct and personal questions. But the moment passes, and the waiter returns with your food.

The waiter silently places your plate in front of you, the golden-brown nuggets sitting innocently on the white china. There's an awkward moment of silence as Bruce and yourself glance at the plate, before the waiter quietly slips away.

You stare at the heaped plate of food before you, your eyes widening at the sheer amount of food placed before you. The white china plate is practically overflowing, not a single part of it left untouched by the generous portions of food. You swallow hard, your gaze shifting to Bruce, who is calmly cutting into his own steak.

"Why is there so much...?" you can't help but ask, your voice laced with bewilderment. "Is this normal here?"

No, this isn't normal. Bruce has made arrangements to ensure you have a substantial meal, much more than usual. He’d grown worried over the small portions you’ve been making for yourself recently. Each day watching the cameras with an angered expression. So you will be eating every piece of chicken on that plate and you will be enjoying it.

He’s scolded Jason far too many times for letting you do this to yourself, it’s about time he’d taken it into his own hands.

Bruce can see the surprise written all over your face, the way your eyes widen at the sight of the food on your plate. He lets out a small, amused huff, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"They tend to be... generous with their portions here," he responds, an air of nonchalance in his tone. "Don't waste it."

He cuts another piece of his steak, taking a bite as he watches you. His gaze flicks back and forth between his own plate and yours, making sure you’re actually eating.

You swallow hard, your gaze shifting back to your plate. You're not sure how you're supposed to eat this much food, let alone even finish it. The small bites you're accustomed to taking seem pitiful in comparison to the massive amount of food before you. But you know you can't refuse, not with Bruce watching you, silently waiting for you to take a bite.

You pick up a single nugget, gingerly taking a bite. The crisp texture and flavor of the nugget fill your senses, and for a moment you momentarily forget about your worries.

Bruce watches you carefully, his gaze fixed on your every move. He takes another bite of his steak, his eyes lingering on you for a few moments longer before he speaks.

"Slow down, you'll choke," he advises, his tone jokingly admonishing.

You pause for a moment, the nugget halfway to your mouth. You shoot him a brief glare, momentarily forgetting your manners.

"No, I won't," you argue, your voice slightly muffled as you chew.

Bruce can't help but suppress a small chuckle. Your stubbornness amuses him, your irritation at his comment almost endearing.

"You will," he says, his tone firm, though there’s an amused sparkle in his eyes. "You're eating too fast. Slow down, enjoy the food."

He takes another bite of his steak, his gaze still fixed on you. It’s amusing to see you pout at him, your expression somewhere between annoyance and embarrassment.

You huff in irritation, rolling your eyes at his words. But deep down, you know he's right, his voice echoing your own internal thoughts.

You take a moment to collect yourself, forcing yourself to slow down as you take another bite. The food is good, the flavors rich and satisfying. But you can't help but grumble under your breath.

Your words are delivered with a mix of petulance and half-hearted jest. "You're not my parent, you know," you mutter, the words leaving your mouth with a hint of teasing.

It's clear you're unaware of the way his knuckles tighten around the handle of the knife until they're almost white, nor do you notice the way his jaw clenches ever so slightly at your words. You're entirely oblivious to the possessive, dark fatherly look that flashes in his eyes.

Bruce has to bite his tongue to refrain from correcting you. He was your dad. You just didn't know it yet.

Patience, he has to remind himself.

Bruce is thankful for the years of his rigid self-discipline, years of controlling his thoughts, feelings, and emotions. He’s thankful for the tight control he has over his mind, the strict control over his senses. Because in that moment, the urge to correct you, to claim you as his child is immense. It’s difficult for him to keep his words at bay.

He clears his throat, the sound more of a forced noise than anything. His voice is slightly strained as he responds to your words. Though he forces the calm, steady tone of his words to remain.

"Just eat your food.”

You're too preoccupied with the taste of the food in your mouth to notice his brief change in tone. His words break you out of your thoughts, your attention shifting to him.

You glance back down at the plate in front of you, the pile of food still standing despite your efforts to eat it.

"I’m trying," you say, a slight hint of annoyance in your tone. "But you're giving me a lot of food here."

Bruce remains silent, his gaze fixated on your plate, calculating the amount of food left.

He takes a moment to think, silently observing you. He scans the remaining food on your plate, mentally calculating how many more bites you’d have to take. He’s not satisfied in the slightest, not until he can see your plate completely empty. He needs to be sure you're going to finish all of it.

“You can do it,” he says, his words a simple, casual statement.

You groan. “dude.”

You roll your eyes at his words, your annoyance with the situation growing. The amount of food still left in front of you seems almost intimidating, especially with Bruce silently watching you.

You’re not used to eating so much, and the thought of finishing all of it makes you slightly nauseous.

“I feel like I’m being fattened up for something,” you grumble under your breath, your tone half-serious, half-joking.

Bruce leans back in his seat, a silent chuckle escaping his lips at your comment. The sound is subtle, only barely heard in the quiet restaurant.

The corners of his mouth twitch, a hint of a smirk forming.

“You ate more than this the last time we were out together, kid.” He says in return, his voice teasing.

His words are meant in playful jest, but there’s a hint of possessiveness in his tone, a hint of protectiveness, the protective fatherly instinct lingering within him.

Your eyes widen in surprise at his words, your expression quickly morphing into annoyance.

"Oh, shut up," you retort, a hint of petulance in your tone. You continue to eat, trying to ignore the smug smile on his face.

You chew on a nugget for a few moments, contemplating his words. "...You remember that?”

Bruce’s smirk widens, watching as your expression morphs to an obvious mixture of surprise, annoyance, and mild humiliation. His tone is casual, yet the amusement is obvious.

“Of course I do,” he responds simply. “I pay attention to things.”

For a normal person, what you ate over two weeks ago would be forgettable, insignificant. But Bruce Wayne isn’t a normal person, not by a long shot. He’s observant, his mind committing details to memory almost second nature to him. Anything that relates to you he makes sure to keep note of. All of his kids interest, really.

You huff in annoyance at his response.

“Oh, right. You’re a billionaire, how could I forget,” you snark back, rolling your eyes at the casual way he responded.

The fact that he’d remembered such a small, insignificant detail of your night together caught you off guard. And for a brief moment, it makes you feel… special, the idea that you’re important enough for him to remember things about you.

“What else do you remember from that night?” you ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Bruce takes a moment to respond, his gaze locked on yours. There’s an almost imperceptible smirk on his face, a hint of pride.

He remembers the entire night, every little detail. Every word that slipped from your lips, every small gesture you made. He remembers it all, committing each memory to the back of his mind. And even if you could somehow forget the colour of your coat, he’s always got the footage from that night to look over time and time again.

But he won’t tell you that, not yet. Instead, he responds with a casual yet vague answer.

“I remember a lot.”

You hum, “mysterious.”

You raise an eyebrow at his response, the vague yet casual tone of his voice. It’s an answer that gives nothing away, yet at the same time makes it clear that he remembers more than he’s letting on.

The thought of all the possible things he could remember makes something churn in your stomach. Part of you wants to pry, to ask more.

But you know better. There’s a reason Bruce Wayne is Gotham City’s most popular billionaire. The man’s secretive, that much is clear.

Your curious expression does not escape Bruce’s notice. He can see the way you’re contemplating your next question, your mind working a mile a minute.

His gaze flickers over your expression, taking in every detail. He knows you’re tempted to ask more, to pry and probe him for more information. He can read you almost as easily as he reads a book.

But he remains calm and collected, his smile never wavering.

“Finishing your food, yet?” he asks in return, his tone shifting the topic away from his memory.

Your eyes widen in surprise, darting down to the plate in front of you. Two lonely nuggets stare back at you, their former coating of sauce now reduced to a glistening sheen.

The sight of the near-empty plate triggers a wave of realization. You had been so caught up in conversation that you hadn't even realized how quickly the food on your plate had vanished, the satisfying sensation of your grumbling stomach barely even registering in your awareness.

Bruce can see the moment realization washes over you. The way your eyes widen, the surprised expression that crosses your features.

He can tell you hadn’t even noticed how quickly you’d finished your food, too caught up in conversation to pay attention to the almost empty plate.

He lets out a small, pleased hum, his eyes flickering across your face for a moment longer before he speaks.

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” he teases quietly.

You flush, your cheeks burning slightly from embarrassment. It’s embarrassing to think that you’d actually finished all the food on your plate, without even realizing it.

You open your mouth to reply, but Bruce continues.

“One more bite,” he says, his tone almost fatherly, yet firm. His gaze flicks down to the two last nuggets on your plate.

You look down at the food, your stomach feeling full. You don’t think you can eat anymore without feeling nauseous. But the expectant look on Bruce’s face makes it clear this is not a request.

The tone of his voice, the fatherly insistence of his words, leaves no room for argument. The way his eyes flicker expectantly to the two remaining nuggets on your plate tells you that it’s not a request. It’s a demand.

You grimace slightly. The thought of forcing down one more bite of food makes your full stomach churn, the feeling of nausea rising in your gut.

“I feel like I’m gonna be sick,” you protest, your voice almost a petulant whine.

“No, you won’t,” Bruce responds simply. He can see the nausea in your face, the look of discomfort in your eyes. But he’s not backing down from this, not now.

His jaw is set, his gaze unwavering as he locks eyes with you, silently making it clear he won’t accept any arguing.

He leans forward just slightly, his gaze intensifying the slightest bit. “Now eat, Sunshine.”

You want to simultaneously kick his face in and curl up into a small ball of fuzz.

You don’t think that you’ve ever been talked to this way. Not even by the woman who raised you. It’s new.

There’s an authority in his tone, a hint of possessiveness in his gaze. He’s telling you what to do, demanding you finish the food on your plate, expecting you to listen to his every word.

It’s a tone that makes you want to both melt into a puddle and stand your ground and refuse. It’s a tone that makes your gut flip, your heart flutter, the butterflies in your stomach suddenly flying around in an erratic mess. Not in any sexual way, but in a way that makes you long.

“...Sunshine?” you murmur, looking up at him with an arched eyebrow.

A hint of a smile tugs at the corners of Bruce’s lips when he notices your reaction to his tone, the arch of your eyebrow at his nickname. He knows it caught your attention, the way your eyes widened slightly, the way your voice came out as a soft murmur.

“Yeah,” he repeats in a matter-of-fact tone, the hint of a smirk still on his face. “Sunshine.”

His gaze flickered over your expression, taking in every little detail. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was almost preening.

The tone of his voice, the way he said the single word, sends a shiver down your spine. It sounds almost sweet, almost affectionate. The way he glances over you, the way his gaze seems to linger over you, it’s as if he’s claiming you as his.

“That’s a weird nickname..” you say, your voice almost timid. You can’t keep the hint of a flush from your cheeks.

“Why Sunshine?”

His smirk widening at your quiet words. He can see the way your gaze flickers away, avoiding his, the way the flush on your cheeks deepens.

“Why not?” he counters, his tone almost challenging. He takes a moment, his eyes flickering up and down your face.

“You’re a little ray of sunshine, kid,” he says eventually, his voice quieter but almost affectionate.

The rest of the night blurs together in a rapid succession of events that seem to move almost too fast for your brain to register. In a flash, you find yourself stepping out of the luxurious limousine, the streetlights casting a soft glow on the sidewalk.

Bruce’s larger hand still grips your shoulder, his grip both supportive and affectionate. His voice is warm as he bids you farewell, his words echoing in your ears.

"Good night," he says, his voice gentle yet firm. "I’ll see you soon."

Had you given the man your address...?

You chalk it up to the wine. Bringing your hand up to wave the black vehicle goodbye before adventuring up the worn down familiar steps that you called home.

As you wave farewell to the retreating car, you find yourself pondering for a moment whether or not you had actually given Bruce the address to your apartment. Perhaps the wine had been to blame.

With a slight shake of your head, you turn away from the departing limousine and begin your familiar ascent up the worn-down steps of the building you called home. The night air is cool and crisp, the glow of the streetlights casting elongated shadows on the concrete paths and cracked walls.

You linger outside the door of your apartment building, your keys clutched in your hand. For a few moments, you simply stand there, the cool night air caressing your skin as you press your forehead against the solid wooden frame.

You can't help but let out a soft sigh, the thought of facing Jason on the other side of that door not very appealing. You're not quite ready to deal with him just yet.

With a deep breath, you finally push yourself away from the door, the cool night air still caressing your face as you turn your attention back to the lock. You insert the key into the keyhole and twist it, the familiar click of the lock sliding open filling the air around you. As you push open the door, you brace yourself for what awaits inside.

As you step into the apartment, you're met with a peculiar sight. The living room is dark, save for a few dim shafts of light filtering in from outside and casting flickering shadows across the furniture. There's a strange stillness to the air, an aura of tension that you can feel even before registering the shape sitting nonchalantly on the couch, illuminated by the silvery moonlight.

Jason's tall form is casually sprawled across the piece of furniture, his body tense and his gaze focused on you with an unwavering intensity.

The moment you step into the living room, your eyes immediately land on Jason's form lounging on the couch. His tall frame is casually sprawled across the furniture, each muscle taut with an obvious tension. His eyes, sharp and dark, fix on you with a penetrative intensity that makes your skin tingle.

He doesn't move or speak, instead choosing to regard you with a quiet, almost unsettling stillness. The silence stretches on, the only sound the soft hush of the night outside and the faint ticking of the clock.

Your lips are caught between your teeth as you approach, your movements tentative and slow. Your eyes remain fixed on his face, his tense expression unwavering as you come closer.

Finally, you stop a few feet away, clutching a small bag in your hands tightly. Without a word, you hold it out in front of him, the rustle of the paper bag breaking the heavy silence.

Jason's eyes flicker to the bag extended towards him, tracking your movements with a guarded wariness. He makes no move to take it, instead regarding you with a suspicious eye.

A beat of tense silence passes before he finally responds, his voice low and gruff. "What's that?"

“An apology for storming out.”

Your response is quiet and deliberate, your voice carrying a hint of remorse. Jason regards you for a moment, his eyes fixated on your face. Finally, he shifts slightly, leaning forward to accept the bag from your hand.

His fingers brush against yours, the touch brief yet sparking a small jolt of electricity up your arm. "An apology, huh?" he responds, his voice a touch gruff but edged with a trace of reluctant understanding.

"It's your favourite," you motion, the words leaving your mouth in a soft whisper.

A small moment of silence passes before Jason responds again, his voice a bit gentler this time. "You didn’t have to," he replies, an unexpected but noticeable shift in his tone.

He regards you for a moment longer, a touch of surprise in his expression, before lifting the bag and peeking inside. At the sight of the familiar, beloved treats, a flicker of warmth sparks across his face. He looks up, meeting your gaze.

"You remembered," he mutters, his voice still gruff but laced with a hint of begrudging gratitude.

You nod your response, your movements weary as you finally collapse onto the couch beside Jason. Your body sinks into the soft cushions, the weariness of the day seeping into your bones.

"Made a stop on my way home," you explain, your voice quiet yet clear in the softly lit living room.

Jason grunts, acknowledging your explanation with a barely perceptible nod. He's still carefully avoiding your gaze, his focus fixed on the bag of treats. He’s not really angry. He never could be. Not with you.

After a moment of silence, he finally speaks, his voice a mix of gruffness and reluctant warmth. “Thanks,” he mumbles, the words a testament to his gratefulness despite his usual tough demeanor.

“Anytime man.”

Jason glances up at your response, his eyes flickering to your face. A brief moment of quiet passes, the sound of the night creatures outside the only background to the silent exchange between you two.

Eventually, he replies, a hint of gruff warmth lacing his words. “Damn right, anytime.”

Jason’s eyes flick up as you let out a small, amused snicker at his words. A small, sardonic grin pulls at his mouth, his shoulders relaxing just a bit.

"You think that's funny?" he mutters, his voice edged with amusement.

He teases, his voice taking on a more playful edge. "Don't see what's so funny about me saying you can bring home my favourite treats anytime you want."

Your snicker only increases in volume in response to his faux-offended tone, a smile slowly breaking out on your face. Jason's stoic expression cracks just a little at the sight, a reluctant smile pulling at his own mouth. He scoops his arm around your waist and pulls you close.

His large arm hooks easily around your waist, giving a gentle tug that pulls you closer to him. You end up pressed against his side, the warmth of his body seeping into your own. Despite the initial surprise at the sudden movement, you don't resist.

Jason keeps his grip on your waist firm, holding you against him as he shifts a bit to make room for you on the couch. His body is warm and solid beside you, a comforting presence in the dimness of the living room.

He leans back against the couch, his arm still around you as his gaze once again drifts down to the bag of treats in his lap.

"You always know what’ll get me to forgive you, don’t you?" he mutters, his voice low, yet holding a hint of affection.

His fingers idly play with the edges of the bag, the slight rustle of the paper filling the quiet space between you.

“Yep.” You pop the p.

No use of y/n, no descriptive features for the reader mentioned, no gender.

Did I drone on about nuggets? Whattttt nooooo… you must have read that wrong.

Tag list: @zero-s-tea @chemicalsandghosts @yandere-enthusiast @starsdotalk @small-mushroom-fae @wpdarlingpan @dhanyasri @tojislvrr @phoenixgurl030 @mel-star636 @lilyalone @lavender-moony @nickey-diano @sociallyakwardpanda @obsessedwithromance @thickerthanthieves @nckcn @xxrougefangxx

For the Americans, your weird only being able to drink when you’re 21 law doesn’t exist anymore, you’ve joined the rest of the world at 18.

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vanteguccir · 4 months ago

Note

Matt choking you with his tattooed arm... I'm just a girl

── ୨୧ !　a small blurb with matt choking you with his tattoed arm in front of the mirror

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

The dim light from the bedside lamp casts a soft glow over the room, highlighting the contours of the bed and the large full-body mirror at its foot.

Matt and Y/N were on their knees on the bed, facing the mirror. Y/N's eyes were locked on her reflection, her breath coming in shallow, rapid bursts. Matt was behind her, his presence overwhelming and dominant, his gaze dark and fixed on her with a hunger that sent shivers down her spine, his hands running possessively along her sides.

His touch was both a promise and a demand, a silent assertion of the control he held over her. Y/N's breath hitched in her throat as she met his gaze in the mirror, her own desire mirrored back at her in his piercing stare. He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear as he growled.

"Look at yourself." Matt's voice was a low growl, sending shivers down her spine. "See how desperate you are for me."

Y/N's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, her body trembling with the need to be closer to him. But a firm grip on her chin brought her back to the present, forcing her to keep her eyes open and fixed on their reflection.

"Don't look away." Matt commanded, his voice brooking no argument. "I want you to see everything I do to you."

Her heart raced as she nodded, unable to form coherent words. The air around them seemed to crackle with electric tension, each moment building upon the last until it felt like the very atmosphere was charged with their shared anticipation.

Matt's hands moved with practiced precision, exploring every inch of her skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His touch was a heady mixture of rough and tender, a testament to the delicate balance of their dynamic. He reveled in the way her body responded to him, each shiver and gasp a silent affirmation of his control.

"Please, Matt." She whispered, her voice barely audible. "I need you."

He smirked, his hand sliding down to her hip, gripping it firmly.

"You need me, huh?" His tone was mocking, teasing. "Beg for it, then. Show me how much you want it."

Her heart raced, the pulse of desire pounding in her ears.

"Please, Matt." She repeated, louder this time, her voice thick with need. "I need you inside me. Now... Please."

His response was immediate. He shifted his position, his hands guiding her to part her knees wider. She felt the heat of his body against her back, the solid weight of him pressing against her. And then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he entered her, filling her completely. She gasped, her hands clutching the sheets beneath them, her body arching in response.

"Look at yourself." He commanded, his voice a low growl. "Look at how beautiful you are when you're taking me."

The sight of them together, his strong, tattooed arm wrapped around her waist, his body moving rhythmically against hers, sent a wave of pleasure coursing through her. Her gaze drifted to his arm, the intricate tattoos that adorned his skin, and a sudden, intense desire surged within her.

"Matt." She gasped, reaching for his arm, pulling it toward her neck. "Choke me with your arm. Please. I need it."

His eyes darkened, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

"You want to be choked, huh? You really are a dirty little slut for me." His hand shifted, his fingers wrapping around her throat, the tattoos on his arm pressing against her skin. The pressure was firm, just enough to send her senses into overdrive without cutting off her air completely, the steady pressure of it a constant reminder of who was in control.

Y/N's eyes never left the mirror, watching the way her own pupils dilated, her lips parted in a silent moan. The sight of his tattooed arm around her neck, combined with the feeling of him inside her, pushed her closer to the edge.

"Yes, Matt." She whispered, her voice strained. "Just like that."

Matt's grip on her throat tightened slightly, the added pressure sending a fresh wave of arousal coursing through her body. The combination of his powerful thrusts and the delicious constriction around her neck was an intoxicating blend of pleasure and pain, each sensation heightening the other in a vicious, addictive cycle.

Her breath came in short, desperate gasps, the pressure against her windpipe sending a delicious wave of arousal coursing through her body. The sensation was intoxicating, a heady blend of fear and excitement that left her craving more.

"Look at you." Matt's voice was a dark whisper in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "So needy, so desperate for me. You love this, don't you?"

"Yes." Y/N managed to gasp out, her voice barely more than a breathless moan. "I love it, Matt. So much."

His response was a low, satisfied growl, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror. The sight of her, on her knees, utterly at his mercy, was almost more than he could bear.

"Watch." Matt commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Watch as I fuck you."

Her eyes were locked on their reflection as he thrust into her, the sudden, intense sensation causing her to cry out in pleasure. She could see the way his muscles tensed with each movement, the raw, unfiltered desire in his eyes as he drove into her with an almost feral need.

"You're mine." He growled, his voice a low, possessive rumble. "Every part of you belongs to me."

"Yes." Y/N's voice was barely more than a choked gasp, her eyes wide and glazed with pleasure. "I'm yours, Matt. Completely."

The words seemed to ignite something within him, his movements becoming even more forceful, each thrust a powerful declaration of his dominance. Y/N could feel herself teetering on the edge of oblivion, her body straining against the overwhelming sensations that threatened to consume her.

As he continued to drive into her with relentless intensity, Matt's free hand found its way to her breast, his fingers pinching and teasing her nipple with expert precision. The added stimulation was almost too much to bear, her entire body quaking with the force of her impending release.

"Come for me." Matt's voice was a dark, demanding whisper. "Come for me while you watch yourself break."

The command sent her over the edge, her body convulsing with the force of her climax. The sight of herself, completely undone and at his mercy, was a visual symphony of raw, unfiltered desire. Her cries of pleasure echoed through the room.

Matt followed her over the edge moments later, his own release a powerful, almost violent explosion of sensation. His grip on her throat tightened for one final, delicious moment.

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies intertwined, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Slowly, he loosened his grip on her neck, his hand sliding down to her shoulder before firmly holding her hips. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of her neck, feeling her legs shaking against his own.

#⋆౨ৎ˚ 𝒍𝒆𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒔 #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #smut #matt sturniolo x reader smut #blurb #matt sturniolo blurb

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livlaughloveluke · 5 months ago

Note

plz plz plz part 2 to the loser luke

- 🍒

loser!luke x best friend reader 🫡

(part one)

18+ mdni

warning!- afab reader, porn what plot, no actual p in v, just a blurb, oral (f receiving), best friend to lovers, inexperienced luke although not really that much of a loser (sorry)

“wait, you want me to fuck you?” you asked in a hushed whisper, cocking your head to the side with a look of utter confusion. the bonfire raged on in the background, every other counselor too drunk on cheap vodka to notice how you two had drifted away from the crowd. the subtle taste of cherry lip balm and malibu lingered in your mouth as you anxiously chewed on your bottom lip, awaiting a response.

“please! just think of it as helping a friend out,” he pleaded with such desperation that it made you weak in the knees. the annoying sounds of cicadas chirping and teenagers hollering made your headache even worse, confusion and alcohol fogging up every logical thought. how in the world had luke “lightsaber” castellan (a generous nickname given by the aphrodite cabin after he mistakenly wore sweatpants out) never experienced good sex? you heard firsthand how the girls talked about him, and saw how their eyes peered for a smidge too long during training when he was dripping with sweat and out of breath.

“first off, where would we even…” the rest of the words got caught in your throat, adding onto the tension was practically suffocating you. were you really considering hooking up with your best friend of five years?

“there’s plenty of empty cabins. hera’s, maybe?” luke eagerly suggested, eyes widening with hope as his brain buzzed.

“her cabin is practically a temple! are you crazy?”

“everyone does it. it’s hot,” he reasoned, and you let out a sharp exhale of the sticky air. it was such an inexplicably bad idea, with your friendship and potentially your life at risk. but gods, he looked so attractive with the moonlight shining on his features, practically on his knees begging you to have sex with him.

“you swear this isn’t just the drinks talking?” you interrogated as your heart rate unwillingly increased to concerning speeds.

“pinky swear. i need you,” he entreated, the ending morphing into a breathy groan of despair. you looked up to meet his lustful gaze, watching his adam’s apple bob up and down while he swallowed impatiently.

instead of responding, you grasped his hand and nearly jogged to the hera cabin, the gravel from the road kicking up with every step. you barged into the wood building, silently praying no one had the same idea as you, at least not tonight. the door slammed shut and you threw yourself onto luke, teeth clashing feverishly and spit swapping as you cusped his face. his hands snuck down to the fat of your ass, kneading and grabbing your skin through the thick fabric of your jeans.

“take my clothes off,” you instructed, pulling apart while breathless and greedily wanting more. all he could muster up was a quick nod before kissing you again, his veiny hand feeling around and unbuttoning your pants. tugging on the loops, you wiggled out of the denim and kicked them across the hardwood floor.

like two dancers, you stepped back in sync until you ran into the post of an unused bunk bed. he broke away from your swollen lips, carefully lying you down on the squeaky mattress that bounced as you made contact. luke loomed over your body, eyes darting around frantically as his face flushed pink from embarrassment, a nice contrast to his naturally tan skin. it didn’t take a genius to figure out he had no clue what to do next, so you made sure to swoop in quickly.

“you need to prep me first. like, eat me out or something. do you know how?” you asked, trying to sound calm but failing miserably as you gasped for oxygen. the sickening heat radiating from his body mixed with the summer air and the sexual tension created a distastefully hot atmosphere, beads of sweat adhering to your skin.

luke shook his head shamefully, the whole bizarre situation finally registering in his mind. you, his dream girl, was lying underneath him without any pants, and he didn’t know what the fuck to do.

“s’okay, that’s what i’m here for,” you sent a reassuring smile, hopefully letting him know that he shouldn’t stress. “start by taking my underwear off.”

he followed along slowly, tracing the lace edges and running his fingers over the small, perky bow in the front before pulling them down completely. you slid your shirt off while he waited in awe, his dick growing painfully harder with every second.

“now you just sorta, lick it, i guess,” you tried to explain, unsure of how to word going down on someone. he cautiously kissed up your thighs, his plump lips sending jolts of pleasure and anticipation through your body. landing on your wet heat, he nervously licked a stripe through your glossy folds, his warm breath a good contrast to the cool air circulating from an overhead fan.

looking up from your pussy, he watched as you let out a shaky breath of pleasure and gave him a small nod to continue. he ran his tongue over your folds again, this time brushing over your clit momentarily and coating it in spit. a hungry whine slipped out of your lips as you shifted to support your upper body using your elbows.

luke began to suck the edges, using suction to gnaw at the warm flesh. moving around, he started to rapidly flick his tongue over your most delicate parts. soft moans escaped your throat, installing some confidence within him. he grew sloppy and messier, now full blown making out with your cunt as your juices coated his lips. you groaned in response, the volume of your whimpers increasing with every movement. praises spewed from your lips mindlessly like a water fountain, encouraging him to keep going.

growing curious and more cocky, he slowly stuck his tongue in your soaking hole, causing you to gasp and moan with an unexpected pleasure. his nose brushed against your clit as he curled and flexed his tongue muscles, and that familiar knot in you stomach began to form. you urged him to keep going as your back arched and you tugged his damp curls.

“luke, i swear to the gods— mphm!— ‘m so close, please, please, please—“

the final straw was when he shook his head back and forth, knowing how you would react when his nose rubbed against your core. instinctively, your thighs closed around his head and your grip tightened in his hair as you reached your climax. waves of pleasure racked your whole body, your toes curling and legs shaking. after a few seconds, you realized that you were practically suffocating luke and apologized profusely while loosening your grip. he pulled apart slowly, dribbles of your cum seeping down his chin.

“what’s next?”

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan blurb #luke castellan smut #luke castellan imagine #luke pjo #luke castellan pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #charlie bushnell x you #charlie bushnell x reader #liv’s writing !

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ot8xbangchansgirlsblog · 2 months ago

Text

ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕜🧸

< prev // next >

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕨𝕠: Why is she here?

Word count: 3832

Summary: In this chapter, Felix anxiously prepares for Y/N, their new pack member, to arrive at their home. Despite Chan’s announcement generating excitement, some pack members, especially Hyunjin and Seungmin, are skeptical. Felix reassures Y/N that the pack is eager to meet her, even though he senses underlying tension. Upon arrival, Y/N is greeted warmly by Minho and Han, which helps ease her anxiety. Felix explains the pack’s bond, which allows them to communicate and sense each other’s emotions. Though apprehensive about the bond, Y/N finds comfort in Felix’s support. During dinner, the atmosphere turns tense when Hyunjin and Seungmin express disapproval of Y/N’s inclusion, leading to a confrontation. Upset and overwhelmed, Y/N has a panic attack. Felix comforts her, helping her calm down and feel more at ease despite the rocky start.

Warning: Angst/comfort, cursing, hate, insecurities,

It had been about 15 minutes when Felix, the only person awake at the moment, noticed that they were approaching the house. His nerves grew as he worried that the boys wouldn't like her. The group chat began to buzz when Chan announced the new member of the pack. As usual, everyone except Han was skeptical about the situation, but they were also buzzing with excitement.

"If you all are sure about it, then I am," Changbin said through the bond for everyone to hear.

"I'm with Changbin. I trust you guys, so if you're so sure about it, then let's see where this takes us," Minho adds to the conversation.

Sometimes, Felix wondered why they even needed to text each other when they had a bond and could communicate through it. However, Chan said that texting was important for their human connection and that they needed to learn social skills, which was a fair point after all. Chan knew best.

"Thank you Mingi," Felix politely said as they stopped in front of the house. He turned to Y/n and gently pushed her hair away from her face, revealing a small beauty mark that resembled Hyunjin's.

"Y/n, we're here," Felix murmured softly, gently shaking her awake. She blinked, taking in the imposing structure of the house before them. The sight of it made her heart race. Was this really happening? Was this grand building about to become her new home? Her mind swirled with worries—what if the pack didn't accept her? What if she made a mistake? What if—

"Hey, stop overthinking," Felix said, trying to sound reassuring. "I'm nervous too, but believe me, they're excited to meet you. I can feel it through the bond." It wasn't entirely true—Felix did sense the excitement the pack was feeling through the bond, but he was also acutely aware of the frustrations and anger simmering beneath the surface, which churned his stomach.

He couldn't ignore the undercurrent of tension from Hyunjin and Seungmin. It hurt to think that two members of the pack, were already shutting her down with such negative feelings toward her when they barely knew. He understood their protective instincts and where they were coming from—they had always been like this ever since... well, ever since he had left. Felix knew that their feelings came from a place of deep loyalty and protectiveness for their home and pack.

"Really?" she asked, a wave of relief washing over her as his reassuring words eased her anxiety. She felt a surge of confidence and was finally able to take a deep breath. "Wow," she murmured, her eyes widening as she took in the grandeur of the building. "You all live here?"

"Yeah, it's amazing, right?" Felix replied with a grin. "Minho-hyung put so much effort into building it. He wanted it to be nestled by the forest, and Chan, being all love-struck, was totally on board. Now we can go hunting, fishing, or just let our wolves roam whenever we want." As they stepped inside, Y/N was greeted by a jumble of shoes at the entrance and a medley of sweet scents that instantly made her omega purr with contentment.

"I'm home!" Felix called out cheerfully as he stepped through the door. "Leave your shoes here," he instructed, and Y/N followed his lead, slipping off her shoes.

"Finally, Lix! Dinner is ready! Go wash up and—oh, hello! Who's your new friend, Lixie?" A strikingly handsome man appeared, his face beaming with a radiant smile. He wore an apron smeared with flour, which made Y/n chuckle.

"Minho-hyung!" Felix groaned in mock exasperation as he tiptoed to wipe the flour off Minho's face. "I told you to act natural, but you're terrible at it." He planted a quick kiss on Minho's lips before turning back to Y/N, who was smiling warmly at the scene.

"Okay, okay, I know," Minho said with a playful roll of his eyes. "But how was I supposed to act natural when you texted the group screaming that you'd found the last soulmate?" He huffed dramatically, still teasing Felix as he continued to fuss with his apron.

"Yeah, I didn't quite think that through..." Felix mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Anyway, Y/N, this is Minho—or Minnie, or babe, or baby, or—"

"Okay, okay, I think she gets the point, Felix!" Minho interrupted with a groan, ruffling Felix's hair affectionately. He turned to Y/N with a gentle smile, as if she were the most delicate thing in the world. "Hey there," he said softly, "It's really nice to meet you. You're absolutely beautiful."

Y/N blushed deeply, her cheeks turning a soft pink as her omega purred in delight at the warm welcome. "T-thank you, Beta," she responded shyly, her voice trembling with emotion. "It's nice to meet you too, Minho. You smell really nice, and you're so pretty." She gazed up at him through her long lashes, and Minho's heart nearly burst with happiness.

"Thank you," Minho said warmly, his eyes shining. "I made a big meal to welcome you to the pack. Why don't you wash up with Felix and then come join us? I'm sure you're starving." As if on cue, her stomach rumbled, drawn by the tantalizing aroma of the food cooking in the kitchen. She nodded, her face flushing with embarrassment.

"Thank you, it really means a lot," Y/N said, bowing slightly. Before she could straighten up, Felix had already tugged her past Minho and into the living room.

"Oh my God, I need to give you a tour of the house," Felix said with a chuckle, "but first, you might want to brace yourself."

"What do you mean, Felix—" Y/N started, but her question was cut off as Felix suddenly called out, "Han! Guess who's here!"

Confused, Y/N barely had time to react before she heard rapid footsteps descending the stairs, accompanied by a fresh, fruity scent—cherries and sweet lemon.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming!" chanted a brown-haired boy as he flew down the stairs, nearly tripping over himself. Without hesitation, he leaped into Y/N's arms, snuggling against her as if she were his long-lost friend. "I'm here!" he cheered, burrowing into her embrace like an exuberant puppy. Y/N giggled, trying to keep her balance as she held the enthusiastic boy.

His large, brown eyes and round cheeks made her coo at his cuteness, reminiscent of a fluffy squirrel. He pulled back slightly to touch her face. "So pretty," he whispered in awe.

"Told you," Felix said with a grin, watching the scene unfold. Han then threw his arms around Felix in a tight hug, showering his face with kisses. "Felix, you did it! You found the last piece! She's so... SHE'S SO..."

"Breathtaking!" a deep voice boomed from the corner. Everyone turned to see a muscular, imposing figure stepping into the room, his presence commanding immediate attention.

"Binnie! Hey! Come say hi to Y/N!" Felix called, waving enthusiastically. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she recognized the strong scent of mint and rainy forest emanating from the approaching figure. An alpha. Though she wasn't terrified, she couldn't shake off the lingering trauma from her past. Her instincts made her take a hesitant step back behind Felix, causing a flash of hurt to cross Felix's face.

"Hey, he won't hurt you," Felix said softly, his voice tinged with concern. "This is Changbin, remember? I told you about him. I know alphas can be intimidating, but I promise you he's really nice. I'll be right here with you." He squeezed her hand reassuringly.

Y/N nodded slowly, forcing a smile as she extended a hand towards Changbin. "H-hey, Binnie. It's nice to meet you," she said quietly.

Changbin's face lit up with a relieved smile as he took her hand gently and kissed it. "Hey there, little one. It's nice to meet you too. Welcome to the pack. I hope my scent doesn't trouble you," he said softly.

"No, it won't," Y/N replied, tracing her fingers over the spot he had kissed. "I just need some time to get used to it, Changbin. But judging by how my omega is reacting, she really likes you." She looked into his eyes earnestly. "Please be patient with me?"

"Of course, love. Just know that you're one of us now, and no alpha will ever lay a hand on you," Changbin said, his hand gently resting on her chin as he rubbed his thumb across her cheeks, which were now flushed with a rosy hue.

"Ugh, seriously?" Minho's voice came from the kitchen door, dripping with mock disgust. "There are people around! And didn't I tell you two to wash up? Dinner's going to get cold!" The boys groaned in unison as Felix quickly pulled Y/N away, leading her up the stairs.

"Sorry about that," Felix said, a bit flustered as he led her through a maze of corridors. "They get a little clingy when they meet new people."

"It's okay," Y/N reassured him with a small smile. "They seem really nice. Where are the rest?"

Felix stopped in front of a door painted blue with his name on it. "Just a sec. I'll check with I.N." Instead of pulling out a phone or walking to I.N's room, Felix closed his eyes, focusing intently. After a moment, he exhaled and said, "He's in the downstairs gym but he'll be up soon."

Y/N looked at him, intrigued. "How did you...?"

Right..she didn't know about the telepathy. "We can communicate through the bond," Felix explained as he sat down on the bed, removing his sweater. "Have you heard of it?"

"Bond? No, I don't know what that is," she admitted, shaking her head.

"Well," Felix patted the bed beside him, inviting her to sit, "when we became a pack, Channie hyung taught us how to use the bond. It's a way we can communicate and feel each other's emotions. We can even see what someone else is seeing sometimes. It's a bit complicated and might seem strange at first, especially when he marks you. It's a bit embarrassing because we can see, hear, and feel everything you do."

As Felix spoke, Y/N's eyes widened in apprehension. "That sounds... intense."

"Yeah, it can be overwhelming at first," Felix said with a comforting smile. "But you'll get used to it. And remember, it's all about being connected and supporting each other."

"Don't worry, it's not scary at all," Felix said, waving his hands as if to reassure her. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, making her blink in surprise. The warmth of the gesture was comforting, and despite her initial shock, she couldn't help but feel a flutter inside. After all, he was undeniably attractive. "Would you like to shower first?" he asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from the more overwhelming aspects of their pack's secrets. Felix knew Chan could explain things in a way that would be less daunting for her. After all, he'd once been the new omega himself.

"Yes, please. But I don't have any clothes," she said, glancing down at her old maid's outfit with a frown.

"No problem," Felix said with an encouraging smile. He reached into his wardrobe and pulled out a towel. "I can get you one of my pajamas. Just go ahead." He gently nudged her toward the bathroom, then turned on the water for her. "This is how you turn on the cold water, and this is how you turn on the hot water," he explained, guiding her step by step. She nodded, memorizing each instruction as she absorbed the information.

"Um, Felix?" she said softly, her voice carrying a note of uncertainty.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for everything, really. You're such an angel. I don't know how I could ever repay you," she said, her gaze dropping to the floor as she thought about her uncertain future—probably facing starvation in a dungeon somewhere.

"You don't have to thank me, my love. That's what soulmates are for," Felix said, nuzzling her cheek gently. His touch elicited a soft purr and a contented whine from her omega. "But I do have one request," he added shyly.

""What is it? I'm open to anything," she said quickly, snapping out of her trance and looking up at him.

"C—can you remove your patches?" Felix asked, his voice tinged with frustration. "My omega keeps whining because we can't smell you." His annoyance was directed more at his own omega's insistence than at her. Her eyes widened, and she instinctively placed her hands on her glands, a look of embarrassment crossing her face.

"I—Felix, I wish I could, but... my scent is rotting right now—"

"What? Why?" Felix's concern was evident as he interrupted, his face falling as realization dawned on him. "That only happens when you're... oh." His whisper was filled with regret.

"Yeah," she said softly. "But I promise I'll remove them once I'm feeling better. Please?"

"Of course," Felix said, his voice softening. "I'll get more patches for you." He quickly left the room, and Y/n let out a sigh of relief as she closed the door behind him.

She stepped into the shower, finally peeling off the itchy patches. The hot water felt soothing against her skin, easing some of her tension. As she let the water cascade over her, she traced her fingers over the bruises covering her body—old and new, a mix of purples, blues, and yellows. She winced as her fingers brushed against one particularly sore spot, her mind drifting back to the moment she'd sustained it. The pain was a stark reminder of the trials she'd endured

🍄🌻🥞🌿

"Here you go," Felix said softly, handing her a box of patches and a steaming cup of tea. "This should help with the um... subdrop. Minho works with medicine and he said it might clear up the rotting scent, though it won't do much for how you're feeling," he explained delicately. "I hope it's okay that I told him..."

"It's okay, Lixie. Thank you." She accepted the tea gratefully, taking a soothing sip as Felix slipped into his pajamas. He then gently began braiding her hair, his touch light and comforting. "I.N is here," he whispered, just as a knock resonated through the room. Felix's face lit up with a smile as he opened the door, only to be enveloped in a warm hug. The alpha then placed a tender kiss on Felix's lips before stepping into the room, his grin bright and welcoming.

"Y/n, this is Innie," Felix said, his voice filled with affection. "He's the youngest alpha and the youngest of the pack. He's really sweet." Felix ruffled Innie's hair playfully before settling back down beside Y/n, who offered a shy wave.

"It's nice to meet you, Alpha," she said, bowing slightly as she took in his scent of chocolate and peppermint, which filled the room with a comforting aroma.

"Ah, I see," Innie cooed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "So, they were calling you two the 'sunshine twins.'" He smiled warmly at them both.

"Innie! Stop it," Felix whined, his cheeks flushing a deep red as he covered his face.

"Yah! Stop being so cute!" Innie teased, his voice filled with warmth. "It's so nice to meet you, Y/n. Let's head downstairs to eat before Minho goes mad. Chan just got back from the company. Come on," he said, extending his hand.

Y/n glanced at Felix for reassurance, who nodded encouragingly. She took Innie's hand and then reached for Felix's, the three of them making their way downstairs together. They entered the dining area where all eight packmates were seated, patiently waiting. Y/n offered a quick bow and a wave before sitting next to Felix, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement as she joined her new packmates for the meal.

"So, Y/n, I trust you've met everyone?" Chan's voice filled the room, drawing everyone's attention to her. She looked around and replied, "No, Alpha. I've met 6 out of the 8."

The room was rich with various scents, each contributing to an overall feeling of safety and sweetness, though there was a faint, sour note in the mix.

"She's really sweet, Hyung. She got along just fine with I.N and Changbin," Felix said, his pride evident as he spoke. Chan nodded in approval before taking another bite of his meal.

"That's good to hear. If you need anything, Y/n, don't hesitate to let me know or just talk to Felix or Han," Chan offered her a polite smile. "I'd like to have a chat with you after dinner, if that's alright."

"I'm perfectly okay with that, Oppa," she replied quickly, eager to show her willingness to integrate.

"Alright, enough talk. Welcome to the pack, little one!" Leeknow exclaimed, giving her a friendly ruffle of her hair and adding more meat to her plate. The room erupted in cheerful applause, but Y/n couldn't help noticing the two betas sitting together, casting her sharp, disapproving glances.

One started to speak up but whas quickly shut down by Chan. "Hyung, are you sure—"

"Not now, Hyunjin. Don't ruin the night," Chan cut off the blonde boy, who was seated next to him. Y/N hadn't met either of them yet, nor the other guy with brown hair and blonde streaks. She could tell they were betas and, judging by their expressions, they weren't thrilled about her presence.

Her ears twitched as she overheard snippets of the conversation, but her attention was soon captured by Han, who cheerfully linked their hands together, offering her a warm smile.

"We should go shopping tomorrow, Y/nnie!" Han exclaimed, running his fingers through her long hair with a bright smile. "Felix and I will take you."

"That's exactly what I was thinking, Han!" Felix chimed in enthusiastically from beside her. "Great minds think alike," he added with a boastful grin.

"I—I would love that, but I don't have any money," she hesitated, feeling a bit self-conscious.

"Don't worry about that!" Han waved off her concern with a playful flick of his hand. "That's why we have Chan and Changbin's credit cards. We never go broke. So stop pouting!"

Despite Han's cheerful reassurance, Y/n couldn't shake off the pang of guilt. "I couldn't— I mean, you guys have already welcomed me into your home. I honestly couldn't impose."

"Y/n, you're part of the pack now," Han insisted with a grin. "You don't have a choice. Let us love you and treat you right! Pretty pleaseee?"

"They won't stop until you say yes," Changbin added with a chuckle, startling Y/n as she hadn't realized he was listening. His presence was subtle but his voice carried well, especially against Han's enthusiastic chatter. "So just agree."

"Fine, we can go shopping, Han—"

"And also get nesting supplies—"

"And room decor," Felix interjected with a wink.

Y/n couldn't help but smile at their excitement, feeling a bit overwhelmed but also touched by their eagerness to include her.

"Yeah, you're right," Han continued, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "We can also get her hair and nails done—"

Y/n glanced back and forth between Han and Felix as they eagerly planned out the next day. She couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm and care, touched by their efforts to make her feel at home. Her gaze drifted back to her plate, but her attention was soon drawn when her name was called from the other end of the table.

"Yes, Oppa?" she responded, looking up at Leeknow.

"I need to know your dietary requirements so I don't accidentally cook something that might make you sick," Leeknow said with a friendly smile.

"Oh, Hyung! You didn't ask us for our dietary requirements," I.N whined from his seat across the table.

"Yeah, well, that's because I don't need to worry about you lot," Leeknow retorted with a snicker. "You guys eat like a small army!"

"Meanie," I.N muttered, giving Leeknow a mock glare.

The sudden loud thump of Hyunjins's fist hitting the table made Y/N flinch. Instinctively, she nuzzled into Felix, seeking comfort from the commotion. Felix wrapped an arm around her, offering a reassuring squeeze as he gave her a warm, comforting smile.

"Hyunjin, don't—"

"No, Chan! You're acting like she's the Luna or something. She's messing up our dynamics!" Hyunjin's voice was sharp, cutting through the room. Every eye turned to him in shock, except for the beta, who merely looked bored.

"You didn't even consult us about adding someone new to the pack," Hyunjin continued, his frustration palpable.

"Hyunjin, stop it! We were always meant to be nine, not eight," Changbin growled, his scent growing increasingly sour. Felix's grip on Y/n tightened, his own scent turning bitter.

"Did you really have to do this in front of her?" Leeknow's voice was a low hiss, his irritation evident.

"He's right, Hyung. You can't just expect us to accept a random, lawless omega—"

"Seungmin, that's harsh! Why would you say something like that?" Han's voice rose in defense, standing up to protect Y/n.

"I-I can leave," Y/n whispered, barely audible. Tears welled up in her eyes as she choked on her words, her heart sinking. She had feared this moment, and now it felt like her worst fears were coming true.

"Felix, take Y/n to the living room. I'll be there in a minute," Chan ordered, his tone icy as he glared at the two betas who had soured the evening.

Without another word, Felix lifted Y/n from her seat and carried her down the hall. As they left, the last thing she heard was Hyunjin's bitter remark: "You're trusting someone we don't even know with Felix? That's absolute bullshit."

They entered a large room with dim lighting, cozy couches, and blankets scattered around. A massive flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall, and a bar was set up in the corner. Her knees gave out, and she sank onto a couch, curling up into herself. Quiet sniffles escaped her as she struggled to hold back her tears, overwhelmed by the sharp sting of rejection.

"Hey... it's okay. No need to cry. I'm sorry—"

"Please don't..." Y/n whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. Her fingers trembled as she picked at the frayed edges of her hoodie, her panic escalating into a storm that churned in her chest. Every breath felt shallow and tight, her heartbeat a frantic drum in her ears. The room seemed to close in around her, a suffocating presence of her fears and insecurities. She felt an overwhelming wave of shame and self-loathing crash over her, thoughts spiraling in a dark vortex of self-doubt. No one would want a ruined omega. They were dirty, used, and unworthy—

"Breathe, Y/n. Breathe for me, please. You're panicking," Felix's voice cut through the storm. His eyes, full of concern, locked onto hers, grounding her in the chaos. "You don't have to talk, but you need to try and calm down, okay?"

She turned away, her breathing ragged and uneven, but his hands gently guided her into a hug. The warmth of his embrace enveloped her, his scent—a soothing blend of cedar and honey—washing over her in waves. "I'm right here. No one is going to hurt you. Not while I'm here. Those two are just being pricks. I promise, we all want you here..."

As Felix's scent enveloped her, her frantic thoughts began to blur, the edge of her anxiety softening. Her body felt like it was melting into his embrace, every tense muscle loosening under his tender care. "There we go... nice and easy," he whispered, his voice a soft, reassuring murmur. He continued to coo softly, his gentle presence a balm to her frayed nerves, slowly pulling her back from the precipice of her panic.

🍄🌻🥞🌿

Dont forget to reblog and follow! <3

Taglist: @ihrtlix @bowsnbang @katsukis1wife @thegingerthatwaited (open)

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wifeyoozi · 4 months ago

Text

🍚 : Help me! My rival producer is annoying but like so damn sexy

insp. by this by @sluttywonwoo ,, smut ,, hate sex kinda

The tension between you and Jihoon had been building for months. As rival producers in the same company, it seemed like you were constantly pitted against each other. Your styles clashed, your opinions differed, and every time you were in the same room, the air seemed charged with an electric kind of animosity. It didn't help that the company often messed up the studio schedule, forcing you both to share the space far more often than was comfortable.

Today was no different. You stormed into the studio, only to find Jihoon already there, headphones on and deep in concentration. He glanced up as you entered, his expression immediately darkening.

"Again?" you snapped, throwing your bag onto a chair. "Seriously, how hard is it to schedule us at different times?"

Jihoon pulled off his headphones, looking equally irritated. "Believe me, I'm just as tired of this as you are," he shot back. "But we're both professionals. Can we just get through this without another fight?"

You rolled your eyes, but you knew he was right. The constant bickering was exhausting. You set up your equipment on the other side of the room, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened every time you looked his way. There was something about Jihoon that always got under your skin—his confidence, his talent, the way he seemed to effortlessly command respect.

Hours passed with the two of you working in silence, the only sound being the occasional click of a mouse or the soft hum of music. The tension was palpable, like a storm cloud ready to burst. It wasn't until you accidentally bumped into him, trying to reach for a cable, that the dam broke.

"Watch it," he muttered, grabbing your wrist to steady himself. The touch sent a jolt through you, the contact burning like a live wire.

"Let go," you hissed, pulling your hand back. But instead of releasing you, Jihoon stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours. The intensity in his gaze made your breath hitch, a cocktail of anger and something else—something raw and primal.

"You know what? I'm sick of this," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Maybe we should just settle this once and for all."

"Settle what?" you shot back, heart racing. "Who's the better producer? Who cares?"

Jihoon's lips curled into a smirk, his grip on your wrist tightening just slightly. "That's not what I meant," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "This thing between us... let's end it."

Before you could respond, Jihoon's mouth crashed onto yours, the kiss rough and demanding. It was as if all the pent-up frustration, all the unspoken tension, erupted in that single moment. You responded with equal fervor, your hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened, becoming a battle for dominance. You bit his lip, he groaned in response, and soon you found yourself pressed against the studio's couch, Jihoon looming over you. You pushed him back just enough to flip the situation, straddling his lap, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

"So, this is your idea of settling things?" you taunted, grinding against him, feeling the hardness beneath his jeans. "Fine. Let's see who's really in control."

Jihoon's eyes darkened with lust and challenge. "You think you can handle it?" he shot back, his hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements.

You leaned in, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, "Watch me."

With a swift motion, you tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head and discarding it carelessly. Your own clothes followed, the urgency and heat between you making quick work of buttons and zippers. Jihoon shifted, helping you out of your pants, until the two of you were skin to skin, the heat of your bodies intensifying the electric atmosphere.

Jihoon's hands roamed over your body, exploring, teasing. You gasped as his fingers found your wetness, sliding against your folds with expert precision. The sensation was maddening, and you rocked against his hand, desperate for more.

"God, you're so wet," Jihoon muttered, his voice husky with desire. "You sure you're not the one who's going to lose control?"

You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, you reached down, gripping his erection cock and positioning it at your entrance. The feel of him, hot and hard, against your slick folds made you moan softly.

Without another word, you sank down onto him, taking him in inch by inch. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure as his big girth stretched you. Jihoon let out a low groan, his hands gripping your hips tightly as you began to move.

You set the pace, riding him with a fierce intensity, your movements a silent declaration of dominance. Jihoon matched you thrust for thrust, his eyes locked onto yours, daring you to look away.

"Fuck, you're tight," he hissed, his voice strained. "You think you can keep this up?"

You smirked, leaning in to kiss him hard, your teeth grazing his lower lip. "You have no idea what I can do," you whispered against his mouth, before pulling back and riding him even harder.

The room was filled with the sounds of your bodies colliding, the slap of skin on skin, the breathy gasps and moans of pleasure. The friction, the heat, the undeniable chemistry—it was intoxicating, driving you both to the brink.

Jihoon's hands roamed over your body, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple. The sensation made you arch your back, a gasp escaping your lips. He took advantage of your distraction, thrusting up into you with renewed vigor, each movement sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

"You like that?" he growled, his voice rough. "Admit it, you love this."

You couldn't hold back the moan that escaped you, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. "Oh, just shut up and fuck me," you gasped.

Jihoon chuckled darkly, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust into you harder, deeper. "Say it," he demanded, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me how much you love this."

You were too far gone to resist, the pleasure consuming you. "I love it," you breathed, your voice trembling with the intensity of your orgasm building. "I love it, Jihoon."

His name on your lips seemed to drive him over the edge. With a final, powerful thrust, Jihoon buried himself deep inside you, his body tensing as he reached his climax. The sensation pushed you over the edge, and you came with a cry, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

You collapsed against him, both of you breathing heavily, the aftershocks of pleasure coursing through your bodies. For a moment, there was only silence, the reality of what just happened settling over you like a blanket.

Finally, Jihoon spoke, his voice rough but softer now. "This doesn't change anything," he said, his breath warm against your ear.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "I know," you replied, though you weren't entirely sure what this even was anymore.

#svt #ceecee sees #seventeen #svt smut #woozi #svt x reader #woozi smut #woozi x reader #seventeen smut #jihoon #jihoon smut #lee jihoon #lee jihoon smut

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axeeglitter · 3 days ago

Text

Lights are up but no one's home

Brad adjusted his letterman jacket and grinned as he caught sight of Emma walking down the driveway. She looked perfect, as always, with her auburn hair shining staircase morning light. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek before her father, Mr. Gaines, stepped out onto the porch.

"Good morning, sir," Brad said, trying his best to sound polite.

Mr. Gaines didn't bother to respond, his sharp eyes scanning Brad as if he were unworthy. “Emma, be back by 3pm. And, Brad…” His voice was cold. “We’ll talk later.”

Brad shrugged it off, flashing his confident smile at Emma. "I think your dad will come around."

Emma gave him a concerned look, but Brad dismissed it, brushing off the tension.

Later that evening, as Brad walked Emma back to her house, Mr. Gaines met them at the door. “Brad, a word. Alone.”

Brad hesitated but eventually nodded. “Sure thing.” He gave Emma a reassuring glance before following her father into the study. Brad followed Mr. Gaines into the study, the older man closing the door firmly behind them. The heavy scent of leather and cedar filled the room, matching the dark, intimidating décor. A single lamp cast a golden glow over the desk, its light flickering slightly, giving the space a tense, almost foreboding atmosphere.

Brad stood his ground, towering over Mr. Gaines with his broad, athletic build. Years of football and rigorous workouts had shaped him into the picture of masculinity: square shoulders, a defined chest, and an aura of cocky confidence.

“Look, sir,” Brad began, his voice firm yet polite, “I know we don’t see eye-to-eye, but I care about Emma. I’m good to her, and…”

Mr. Gaines raised a hand, cutting him off. “Spare me the charm, Brad. I see right through it.”

Brad bristled, his jaw tightening. “With all due respect, I don’t need your approval. Emma and I…”

“You’ll find you need more than you think,” Mr. Gaines interrupted again, his voice cold and commanding. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small glass vial filled with an iridescent liquid that shimmered unnaturally in the dim light.

Brad frowned, his brow furrowing. “What is that? Some kind of whiskey or…”

Before he could finish, Mr. Gaines popped the cap off and flung the contents at him with surprising speed. The liquid hit Brad square in the chest, seeping through his letterman jacket and white tight shirt and into his skin.

“What the hell?!” Brad shouted, stepping back as he frantically tried to wipe the liquid away. His hands tingled where they touched it, as though the substance was alive.

“You’ve had your time with my daughter,” Mr. Gaines said, his lips curling into a smirk. “Now, it’s time to see what you’re really made of.”

Brad opened his mouth to retort, but a sudden, searing heat coursed through his body, cutting him off. It started in his chest, radiating outward in waves that left his muscles twitching uncontrollably.

“Wha, what’s happening to me?!” he gasped, clutching at his chest. The heat intensified, and he felt his ribs shifting beneath his hands. His sturdy chest, once broad and solid, began to shrink. The hard ridges of his pecs softened, the thick slabs of muscle deflating like a balloon.

“No!” Brad groaned, his voice cracking. He could feel his sternum pulling inward, the bones grinding painfully as his torso narrowed. His shirt hung awkwardly now, loose in places it had once hugged snugly.

The heat spread downward, latching onto his abs. His once-chiseled six-pack, earned through countless hours of crunches and dieting, began to fade. He pressed his hands against his stomach, desperate to hold onto the definition, but the flesh grew soft and smooth under his touch.

“Stop this!” he begged, his voice trembling.

Mr. Gaines crossed his arms, watching with a cruel, detached interest. “Oh, we’re just getting started.”

Brad stumbled forward, his legs shaking as a sharp pain erupted in his pelvis. He fell to his knees with a grunt, his jeans tightening uncomfortably around his hips. He groaned as his pelvis shifted, the bones grinding and reshaping into a narrower, more delicate structure.

His thighs quivered, the thick muscle softening and slimming. He had always prided himself on his powerful legs, tools of a star athlete, but now they looked more suited to a dancer. His calves followed suit, becoming slender and shapely, their once-prominent muscles fading into gentle curves.

“No, no, no!” Brad whimpered, clutching at his thighs as if sheer willpower could stop the transformation. His jeans shimmered and morphed, the denim becoming tight, ripped skinny jeans that clung to his new, slimmer legs like a second skin.

The heat moved downward, pooling in his feet. Brad gasped as his sneakers began to tighten painfully. His feet shrank, the size 12 shoes compressing around his toes until they reformed into smaller, more delicate size 9 feet. The sneakers warped, reshaping into sleek, white designer trainers that felt foreign and wrong.

He scrambled to his feet, swaying as he realized how much shorter he’d become. The once-commanding 6’2” frame that had made him stand out on the field was now gone and replaced by a slim and delicate 5’4”. He felt fragile, like a shadow of his former self.

“Why can’t I stop this?!” Brad cried, his voice growing higher-pitched with each word. He clapped his hands over his throat, horrified as his Adam’s apple receded. His deep, commanding voice was replaced by a soft, boyish tone that sounded utterly alien to his ears.

“Your height suited your arrogance,” Mr. Gaines said with a smirk. “But this? This is much better.”

The heat moved back up to Brad’s arms, and he watched in horror as his biceps and triceps, once bulging with power, shrank down to slender, almost dainty proportions. His shoulders narrowed, losing their broad, masculine width, leaving him with a delicate, almost effeminate frame.

His hands began to tingle, and he stared down at them in disbelief. The calluses that had marked years of lifting weights and gripping footballs faded, leaving his palms smooth and soft. His fingers slimmed, their rough, masculine shape replaced by long, elegant digits.

“This isn’t real,” Brad muttered, his voice trembling. “This can’t be real!”

“Oh, it’s real,” Mr. Gaines replied, his tone dripping with amusement.

Brad’s skin began to tingle as the transformation spread across his body. The fine dusting of body hair that had covered his chest, arms, and legs vanished, leaving his skin unnaturally smooth. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, desperate to cool the burning in his armpits, but the familiar musky scent of sweat was gone, replaced by a faint, floral fragrance. brad then felt his letterman jacket and white shirt starting to tighten around him. He turned his head to look at it only to realize he was now wearing a tight blue stripped shirt.

The heat surged into his face, and Brad stumbled back, clutching at his cheeks. His square jawline softened, the sharp edges rounding out into delicate curves. His cheekbones became more pronounced, giving his face a refined, almost ethereal beauty. His lips tingled and swelled, becoming fuller and pinker, while his nose slimmed into a petite, upturned shape.

Brad turned to the mirror on the wall, his heart sinking as he saw the stranger staring back at him. The rugged, masculine face he had always known was gone, replaced by one so pretty it could have graced a magazine cover.

The heat shifted to his scalp, and he reached up, gasping as his long, messy brown hair grew longer and softer on the top. It lightened to a golden blond, shimmering in the lamplight as it styled itself into a trendy, tousled look. His sides receded back in his scalp in millions of ant bites as Brad took his lobes in his hands screaming in pain.

“Look at you,” Mr. Gaines said, stepping closer. “You could pass for a model now. A twink, as they say.”

Brad stumbled away; his legs weak. “This… this isn’t me,” he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“It is now,” Mr. Gaines replied coldly.

The final wave of heat pooled in Brad’s groin, and he doubled over, clutching at his hips. The muscles and bones there shifted painfully, completing the lithe, feminine shape his body had taken on. He wanted to scream, but his voice cracked once more, betraying the raw emotion he felt. Brad could feel his huge 8 inches cut dick boiling with heat as he could feel his cock grinding against his new jockstrap and his hairless thighs until it stopped to a 3 inches uncut cock. His nuts followed as he felt them taking less and less place inside the pouch. Brad tilted his head and looked as the front of his slim jeans was shrinking faster and faster. When the shrinking stopped, brad exhaled from fear as he tried to get up once more. But as his hands touched the ground to help himself, he felt a discharge of electricity zap him in the ass. He screamed from surprised and pain as he heard Mr. Gaines laugh viciously. “Now we’ll see how you handle these new sensations” he said with a deep voice while looking at Brad trying to find his breath again.

He collapsed to the floor, trembling as the heat finally began to subside. His body felt alien, every movement unfamiliar and wrong. He could feel the smoothness of his skin, the slenderness of his limbs, the absence of his once-powerful build.

Brad looked up at Mr. Gaines, his deep brown eyes glitching as they finished turning into bright blue eyes wide with horror. “Why… why would you do this to me?”

Mr. Gaines crouched down, smirking as he looked the transformed Brad in the eye. “Because you needed a lesson, boy. And now, you’re exactly what you deserve to be.”

Brad lay on the floor of the study, his altered body trembling with lingering heat. He tried to push himself up, but his new, slender arms buckled under the effort. The unfamiliar weight distribution of his body threw him off balance, and he collapsed again, the smoothness of his skin and the strange proportions of his limbs only amplifying his panic.

Inside his mind, Brad’s thoughts whirled. This isn’t me. This can’t be me. He clenched his teeth, or at least tried to, but even the sensation of his now-soft jawline felt wrong. Every breath was foreign, the floral scent from his armpits a mockery of the musky, masculine odor he’d once carried.

Mr. Gaines stood over him, arms crossed, his smirk cold and calculating. “You’ll get used to it,” he said. “Or maybe you won’t. Who knows?”

“You won’t get away with this, Emma will know, I will tell everyone” Brad spat, his voice unnaturally high and trembling. He cringed at the sound of it. “I will sue you!”

But as if to mock his resolve, a sharp pain stabbed into his temples, sending him sprawling onto his back. The room spun as his hands flew to his head, gripping at the blond strands of his new hair. It felt like something was clawing its way into his brain, rewriting him from the inside out.

“What is going on?! Fuck it hurts!!” he screamed, but the words came out in a whiny, petulant tone, almost like a pout.

“You think you can threaten me under my roof, Brad?” Mr. Gaines said smoothly. “Well… I thought this was enough, but seems not! Let’s see how you’ll behave now, Blaine!”

Another jolt of pain struck, this time deeper and more insistent. Memories flashed through his mind and memories of who he was, who he had been. The star athlete, the golden boy, the charming boyfriend who could talk his way out of trouble with a grin. He clung to those images desperately, but they began to fracture, splintering like glass.

In their place came foreign thoughts, feelings, and impulses. Bright colors danced behind his eyes, an overwhelming hunger for attention and admiration bubbling up from nowhere. He tried to suppress it, but it grew stronger with each passing second, like a dam about to burst.

“No,” Brad whimpered, tears streaming down his now-delicate face. “This isn’t me. I’m not…”

But the assault on his mind continued. His thoughts grew disjointed, a battle between his old self and the intrusive presence worming its way into his consciousness. His sense of humor shifted, memories of football games and weightlifting sessions replaced by an inexplicable appreciation for fashion trends and pop music.

The new personality emerged, brash and unyielding. It wasn’t subtle; it stormed into his mind like a diva on a stage, shoving Brad’s old self aside.

“Oh my God,” a voice bubbled in his head, light and effervescent. “This room is so drab. Like, who decorated this? A sad old man?”

No! That’s not me! Brad screamed internally, but the words didn’t make it out. His lips parted, and instead of the defiance he wanted to express, a soft giggle escaped.

“Stop it!” he thought desperately, but his body betrayed him. His delicate fingers brushed a strand of golden hair from his face, and he caught his reflection in the nearby mirror. A coquettish smile spread across his lips without his consent.

The final blow came when the pain in his head spiked to a blinding crescendo. Brad’s name, his name, slipped away, leaving a void where his identity had been. In its place, a new name blossomed, sugary sweet and unbearable.

“Blaine,” Mr. Gaines said with satisfaction, as though plucking the name from Brad’s own thoughts. “That suits you. Blaine, my new personal assistant.”

No, no, no! Brad’s mind screamed, but it was as if he were trapped behind a glass wall, watching his body and voice act without him.

Blaine blinked a few times, his wide, blue eyes fluttering. “Blaine,” he repeated, his voice sing-song.

Inside, Brad seethed. He was still there, buried deep, but he couldn’t control his body anymore. Every word, every movement, was Blaine’s now. And Blaine was everything Brad wasn’t: flamboyant, animated, and utterly unconcerned with the past.

“Do you need me for anything, sir?” Blaine said, tugging at the tight, ripped skinny jeans and tight blue striped shirt that had replaced Brad’s clothes. “I remember you told me to come to work on The Fortress Club folder, right?”

“Plenty of time for that later,” Mr. Gaines said, his smirk widening as he took a step about to grab Blaine’s shirt.

At that moment, the door to the study swung open, and Emma stepped in. “Dad? Have you seen Brad? He just vanished, and… Oh hello, I didn’t know you were busy working, you must be my dad’s new personal assistant, right?”

Her eyes landed on Blaine, who was standing with his hands behind his back, his head tilted in a way that screamed playful mischief. She froze, her brow furrowing.

“Who… are you?” she asked, clearly confused.

Blaine smiled as he presented himself while Brad’s trapped consciousness burn with humiliation.

“I’m Blaine!” he chirped, twirling a lock of his golden hair. “Just helping your dad out with… um… his work schedule. Nice to meet you!”

Emma blinked, then turned to her father. “Where’s Brad? He said he was coming in here to talk to you.”

Mr. Gaines feigned a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “Brad showed his true colors, I’m afraid. I caught him cheating on you. Told him to pack his things and leave. He didn’t even argue, just walked out without a word.”

Emma’s face fell, hurt flickering across her features. “He… what?”

Inside, Brad screamed. No! That’s a lie! I would never do that to her! But Blaine remained silent, batting his long lashes at Emma.

“You’re better off without him,” Mr. Gaines said firmly. “He wasn’t right for you.”

Emma shook her head, clearly unsettled. “Fuck him! If I ever see him again, he is dead! Well, I’m going to go. I need to process all of this.”

She turned and left the room without another word, leaving Blaine standing in the center of the study and Brad crying and screaming for Emma to come back.

Inside, Brad felt his heart shatter. She doesn’t even recognize me. She thinks I abandoned her. I’m still here! I’m still me!

Mr. Gaines clapped a hand on Blaine’s shoulder, ignoring the storm raging inside the former jock’s mind. “Well, Blaine, it looks like you’re all mine now.”

Blaine turned to him with a bright smile. “Ooh, what do you need first? Coffee? A snack”

Brad’s mind recoiled, hating every word, every exaggerated gesture. He was trapped, forced to watch and feel everything Blaine did, powerless to fight back.

“None of that, I was thinking something more… personal,” Mr. Gaines said as he walked to Blaine, grabbing his shirt and tucking it behind his head. “And you’ll do exactly as I say.”

“Anything for you, Mr. G!” Blaine said with a wink as he got on his knees, his small hard cock pressing on his thighs and leaking in his jockstrap.

As Mr. Gaines’s hard daddy cock entered Blaine’s virgin mouth, he came, leaking through his ripped jeans and directly on the carpeted floor. Mr. Gaines laugh and started to face fuck Blaine even faster with a smile on his lips, not caring about Brad's gagging please for this to stop. “I think you’ve learned your lesson son. And you’ll have to clean this up!”

______________________________________________________________ Hey guys! Here is my contribution to the story swap I did with @misctf. Go check his content if you haven't already. He has lots of great stuff there. See you soon!

#male transformation #my writing #mental change #male tf #reality change #tf #gay #personality change #straight to gay #jock to nerd #jock to twink #nerdification

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wheeboo · 2 years ago

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emergency contact {pt. 1} | choi seungcheol

SYNOPSIS. in which an accident forces you to call your emergency contact. PAIRING. ex bf!choi seungcheol x gn!reader (ft. cousin!joshua but he’s only mentioned for the sake of plot) GENRE. angst, light fluff, exes to ??, hurt/comfort, second chances WARNINGS. mentions of an accident and speeding (drive safely, please!), mentions of a vague break-up, depiction of injuries, implied that reader struggles w/ mental health and goes to therapy WORD COUNT. 1.9k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 →

The moment Seungcheol got the call from the hospital, he knew that something was wrong.

Without a second thought, he abandons everything in a fleet of urgency, almost as if he lost control of his entire body. He feels the intense pounding of his heart and the anxiety flowing through his veins as the thoughts of you lingering in the dark corners of his mind come back to him.

He remembers you telling him about setting your emergency contact under his name and expected for you to remove it after your break-up, but it seems like you didn’t make the effort to, or... just simply forgotten to. Even if you didn’t want to see him, even if the call was out of spite, Seungcheol knew that he had to be by your side. He has to. It was a promise that he made to himself.

“Come on, come on, hurry up,” Seungcheol urges frustratingly through gritted teeth, his grip tight on the steering wheel. “Drive faster, god dammit.”

As Seungcheol speeds through the streets, his knuckles turn white from the intensity of his grip. Every red light lasts an eternity, every slow-moving car in front of him tests his patience. Time seems to taunt him, stretching the seconds into feeling like hours.

Turning a corner, the hospital finally comes into view. He parks his car hastily, barely taking a moment to collect himself before rushing through the sliding doors. The pungent smell of septic hits his nostrils as he enters inside the building. Seungcheol realises it’s been a while ever since the last time he came to the hospital.

As he follows the signs and continues to walk, he feels a mixture of nervousness and anticipation thinking about seeing you, the bittersweet and painful conversations leading up to the break-up clouding his mind. Was this really the best choice?

But if you choose to push him away, he wouldn’t stop you.

Seungcheol’s steps echo loudly in the hallway as he approaches the entrance to the emergency ward. Each step brings a wave of uncertainty, making him torn between wanting to be by your side and his respect for the boundaries you may have set.

With a long, deep breath, he pushes open the door to the emergency ward, and he’s already met with an overwhelming sight𑁋doctors and nurses rushing past to attend to patients in need, the repetitive beeping of machines, and an atmosphere thick with tension.

Seungcheol steps up to the receptionist with his hands clasped nervously together. “Excuse me.”

The receptionist looks up at him with a welcoming smile. “How can I help you?”

“Uh, I received a call from... Their name is Y/N. I’m their emergency contact.” He mentally curses to himself for stumbling over his words.

The receptionist types frantically on her keyboard. “I see, and are you the guardian of this patient?”

“Yeah, I’m...” Seungcheol takes in a breath, feeling the uncertainty building up. “I’m their boyfriend.”

The receptionist nods understandingly and gives Seungcheol a sympathetic look. "I'll check the records and find out where they are. Please wait a moment,” After what feels like an endless amount of clicking and typing, she looks back up with a glint of hope. “Yes, there is a patient under that name who has been transferred to our patient care unit in room... 214. You can proceed past those doors, continue straight ahead, and you’ll reach it.”

He thanks the receptionist and hurriedly makes his way towards the designated area. His eyes scan each of the room numbers, and after feeling like walking through a maze, he finally reaches the hallway and finds himself paused in front of your room.

Seungcheol feels his heart pounding once more, and it felt almost painful to withstand. But with a deep inhale, he gives the door a quick knock and waits a few moments before stepping inside.

He’s met with utter silence broken only by rhythmic beating of the heart monitor. As he pushes past a drawn curtain, he finally sees your fragile form on the bed. A heavy weight settles in his chest as he takes in the sight of your injuries: one of your arms had been plastered up, a few noticeable stitches to the skin above your eyebrows, and bruises painted over the skin of your forearm and another one on your cheekbone.

Your eyes were closed and your breathing appeared steady, but he can’t bare to think the amount of pain you might be in and that he can’t do much to ease it. He wishes he can just hold you in his arms, to tell you that he was here, but he can’t do that.

Seungcheol slowly makes his way to a seat sitting against the wall, pursuing his lips together to keep himself quiet. But when he makes it to the seat, a low mumble makes him pause in place.

“Who...” You struggle to open your eyes, vision hazy. You attempt to turn your head to the side, squinting your eyes to a blurry figure you can barely make out. “Joshua?”

Seungcheol smiles faintly. The sound of your voice makes his stomach leap.

“It’s Cheol... Uh, Seungcheol,” he corrects you. Joshua is one of his close friends and also your cousin.

“Cheol?” You find yourself instinctively sitting up at the mention of his name, but Seungcheol races to your side and places a hand at the small of your back, guiding you back down on the bed.

“I𑁋Be careful. You were just in an accident.” When you glance down to where his hand was on your back, he swiftly takes it away.

Situating your back down on the bed, you let out a light chuckle, cringing from the slight discomfort in your chest. “I-I didn’t think you’d actually come. They said they were calling whoever was in my emergency contact, and I... remembered it was you.”

Seungcheol feels his heart clench around your words. “Do you... want me to leave?”

You pause for a moment, before shaking your head slowly. “No, it’s... You can stay,” You finally look up at him, meeting his soft gaze and his slightly disheveled appearance. “It feels comforting that you’re here, and I... don’t really want to be alone right now.”

Relief washes over Seungcheol’s face. He takes the seat from behind and brings it closer to your bed, finally able to get a close look at your face. And when you turn to look at him, you could’ve sworn something was tugging at the strings of your heart. You remember that look𑁋the same look he would give you whenever you weren’t looking at him, yet you knew he was looking at you. It was a look of fondness, a look of affection that you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Is it bad?” You ask him, interrupting the tension-filled silence. “My face?”

You see his expression change to worry, and he leans slightly closer to take a better look at you. His eyes trace over the bruises and clean cuts on your face, even to a small cut at the corner of your lips that he just notices, but he doesn’t mention anything about them. Instead, he gives you a gentle smile that causes his dimples to deepen slightly and a shake of his head.

“You’re still...” As beautiful as ever, he wanted to say, but he lets those words fade. “Don’t worry, they’ll all heal eventually.”

You only give a nod to his words. The air between you both hangs heavy with unspoken words as you exchange stolen glances. The room feels confined, almost suffocating, as if it's begging for the walls to break down and release the pent-up emotions the two of you were hanging on to. Perhaps you both knew what your hearts are yearning for, but why is it so hard to simply say I miss you?

Seungcheol is the first to clear his throat. “I heard you’re going to therapy again.”

His words make your head cower down in shame, eyes locked at the ends of the hospital bed as you feel the pit of guilt bury itself in your stomach. You know he’s not judging you𑁋he never has and never will𑁋but you can’t shake the feeling away.

“Did Joshua tell you that?”

“Does it bother you that I ask about you sometimes?”

Both of your voices tangle together, but you hear his question clearly. You don’t feel irritated or annoyed because after all, you were the one who decided to end the relationship as you let your insecurities and fears project onto your burdening feelings. At the time you thought Seungcheol deserved better, and you let those thoughts ultimately make your decision without even considering his own feelings. And ever since then, you’ve wanted nothing more than to express the depth of your regret.

“Because I still care about you, you know?” You hear him continue. “and I want to know how you’re doing. But if you want me to stop, I can𑁋”

“Cheol,” You call his name sternly, surprising both him and yourself as he closes his mouth right away from his rambling. Overturning the hesitation, you finally confess, “I-I ask about you sometimes too.”

Seungcheol's feels his mouth go dry, caught off-guard by your words. A mixture of surprise, relief, and a flicker of hope dances across his features. But he keeps himself from getting his hopes up.

“And therapy... has been well,” He swears he sees that glimpse of hope in your eyes as well. “It’s been hard, but I think I’ve been making a lot of progress.”

“That’s good,” Seungcheol comments, scooting himself closer to the bed. “I’m proud of you, you know that, right?”

You know he’s proud of you. Whenever you made those kinds of efforts, even the smallest kinds such as getting out of bed, taking a shower, or eating a single bite of a home-cooked meal, you remember Seungcheol giving you those words of praise, the kisses he would shower you with, the way being his arms felt safer than your own head, and the genuine reminder that he was there for you and ready to drop everything just to make sure you were okay.

But your thoughts always considered otherwise.

Seungcheol reaches out tentatively upon noticing your stillness, his hand inching closer to your free one. His fingers brush against your skin, lightly over one of your bruises, and a shiver runs down your spine. You look at his hand, then meet his eyes, and he silently asks for permission.

Nodding ever so slightly, his hand laces with yours, and it feels as if a missing puzzle piece has finally found its place. The warmth spreads from his touch, easing the ache in your heart and the shakiness of your breathing. You both sit there in pure silence, hand-in-hand, the weight of the past slowly dissipating and leaving only the present moment.

“Seungcheol.”

Your voice sends him back to reality, his mind not processing the presence of your hand in his just yet. “Yes? Are you okay? Do you need something?”

You give him a shake of your head, chuckling quietly at his expression.

“No, I’m okay, but I was wondering...” You bite your lip reluctantly, eyes switching back between your clasped hands and his focused look. “Do you... want to stay the night?”

Seungcheol's eyes widen at your unexpected question. He hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to respond. The desire to be with you is overwhelming, but he doesn't want to overstep any boundaries. Anything but that.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable𑁋”

“It’s okay,” You reassure him with a gentle squeeze to his hand. “I want you here with me. I’ve... I’ve really missed you.” And I want to tell you how sorry I am for letting you go.

A smile crosses his face, eyes lighting as he brings your hand carefully up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to a bruised spot as if to convey his appreciation. You can’t help but smile in return, feeling a surge of warmth spreading through your chest. The simple gesture holds so much meaning, like a tender reassurance of your unbroken connection that you both seek to repair together.

“Okay,” is all he replies with. Because you have no idea how much I’ve missed you too.

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simplygojo · 29 days ago

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"Double the Pleasure, Double the Pain"

a.n. ⸺ Hey y'all, I've been excited for this short fic, requested by the lovely @takuma-talkz! I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much for requesting! <3

Spooky Szn Masterlist

Pairing ⸺ Ino Takuma x f!reader x Kento Nanami

Word Count ⸺ 2K

Kinktober Taglist ⸺ @nanamisrighthand @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy

Warnings ⸺ 18+ SMUT, MDNI, threesome, spanking, face-fucking, hair pulling, nicknames, brat taming, rough sex.

The night had begun innocently enough, the three of you hanging out at Nanami’s apartment, but as the hours passed and the wine flowed, a simmering tension coiled between you, ready to snap.

Now, you found yourself sandwiched between the two of them, heart racing and anticipation building as the atmosphere shifted from playful banter to something far more charged.

Ino leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “You really thought you could tease us all night without consequences?”

His fingers danced along your thigh, tracing the delicate fabric of your skirt. The thrill of his touch sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip, daring him to continue.

Nanami’s expression was a mix of amusement and discipline, his piercing gaze locked onto yours.

“You’ve been quite the brat tonight, haven’t you?” He said, his voice low and gravelly, sending a delicious thrill through you. You smirked, defiantly meeting his eyes, but the challenge didn’t go unnoticed.

In one swift motion, Nanami’s hand gripped your chin, pulling your gaze upward to meet his intense stare.

“You think you can test our patience?” He asked, a hint of a growl in his voice, his grip firm but not painful, just enough to assert his control. His other hand moved to his belt, expertly unbuckling it with a practiced ease that sent a thrill of anticipation through you.

“Let’s see how long you can keep that mouth shut,” he murmured, the promise of discipline lingering in the air. He pulled the leather strap free, holding it up as if it were a weapon of seduction.

“Good girl,” Ino purred, leaning in closer. “I think it’s time we remind you who’s in charge.”

As Nanami’s hand tangled in your hair, tugging gently but firmly, your breath caught in your throat.

He maneuvered you so that your wrists were presented before him, the cool metal of his belt buckle glinting in the dim light.

“This will help keep you in line,” he said, wrapping the belt around your wrists and securing it snugly, leaving you helplessly restrained.

The soft leather felt rough against your skin, and the rush of being bound sent a thrill coursing through you.

Your breathing quickened, a mix of excitement and arousal flooding your senses.

“What if I like being a brat?” You challenged, trying to sound confident despite the vulnerability you felt.

But as you glanced between the two men, the heat in their gazes sent another wave of anticipation rushing through you.

Ino chuckled, the sound low and intoxicating.

“Oh, you’ll like it even more once we’re done with you.” His palm connected with your ass in a sharp smack, sending a jolt of pleasure and pain through you.

“Now, how many times do you think we’ll have to remind you to behave?”

Nanami’s grip on your hair tightened, forcing your head back.

“I suggest you take this seriously. We both know you’ve pushed your luck.” His voice was a steady murmur, as if he were simply stating a fact, and it made your stomach flutter with excitement.

Ino’s fingers danced over the exposed skin of your thighs, drawing circles that ignited flames of desire.

“You like that, don’t you? Knowing we can do anything we want with you?” His voice was silky, laced with a hint of danger.

“I can’t wait to see how you react when we really push you.”

With that, Ino's fingers ghosted higher, teasing just at the edge of your heat, while Nanami's grip on your throat tightened slightly, a reminder of just how much control he had over you.

You could feel the heat pooling in your core, and you fought the urge to grind against Ino’s hand, desperate for friction.

“Please,” you whimpered, the word escaping before you could think.

“Please what?” Nanami challenged, his voice dropping an octave as he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Use your words.”

“Please... I want more,” you gasped, the heat in your cheeks deepening as you let the vulnerability wash over you.

“Good girl,” Nanami said, satisfaction colouring his tone.

“You’ll get what you want, but only when we decide.”

Ino chuckled, and you could see the gleam of mischief in his eyes. “You’re going to have to work for it, though.”

As Nanami’s hold on your throat eased, his fingers trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, while Ino’s hands explored the curves of your body, squeezing and pulling in all the right places.

The dual sensations left you gasping, your body arching toward their touches, wanting nothing more than to be completely consumed by them.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom,” Nanami suggested, his tone commanding.

Without hesitation, they guided you down the hall, the anticipation buzzing in the air as you entered the dimly lit room.

Nanami pushed you gently onto the bed, the cool sheets contrasting sharply with your heated skin.

“On all fours,” he instructed, his voice firm yet enticing.

You obeyed, getting onto your hands and knees, heart pounding with anticipation. Ino knelt behind you, his hands gripping your hips, positioning you just right as Nanami moved closer.

“You’re going to feel so good,” he promised, his breath fanning over your back.

Ino’s fingers danced along your spine, teasing you as he spread your legs wider, exposing your desperate cunt fully to them.

“Look at you, so eager,” he taunted, a wicked grin on his face.

Nanami stepped forward, his hard length just inches from your face, a sight that made your mouth water.

“Remember to keep your hands behind your back,” he reminded you, his tone darkly playful. You nodded, the thrill of being so vulnerable only heightening your desire.

With a swift motion, Nanami gripped your hair, pulling your head back slightly as he pressed his cock against your lips.

“Open up for me,” he commanded, his voice low and filled with authority. You gladly complied, taking him in your mouth, feeling the heat and weight of him as he pushed deeper, touching the back of your throat.

“Such a good girl,” Nanami praised, his grip on your hair firm as he began to thrust, setting a rhythm that was both deliciously intense and overwhelming.

The warmth of his skin against your tongue, the taste of him filling your mouth—it was intoxicating.

Ino positioned himself behind you, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock.

“You’re going to love this,” he said, his voice thick with lust. He pushed in slowly, filling you completely, stretching you in a way that made you moan around Nanami’s shaft, causing.

The combined sensations were overwhelming.

Nanami pulled your hair, guiding you to take him deeper, while Ino thrust hard and deep, the two of them working in sync to bring you to the edge of ecstasy.

“Tell us how it feels,” Ino urged, his breath hot against your ear.

“Y-you feel so good,” you managed to gasp, the words muffled around Nanami’s cock.

“Good girl,” Nanami replied, his thrusts becoming more demanding as he drove into your mouth, forcing you to take him fully with each movement. He pulled your hair harder, and the mixture of pleasure and pain had you trembling, completely at their mercy.

Ino’s hand came down hard against your ass, a sharp smack that sent shockwaves of pleasure racing through you.

“You like that, don’t you?” He taunted, his pace quickening as he buried himself deep inside you.

A stifled moan escaped your lips around Nanami’s length, the words swallowed by the delicious pressure of him filling you completely.

Tears of pleasure pricked at your eyes as you fought to take him deeper, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you.

The heat radiated from your cheeks, your body alight with desire as you revelled in the sensations.

Every thrust, every slap of Ino’s hand against your skin heightened your arousal, pushing you closer to the edge.

The dual stimulation was overwhelming. Nanami’s grip on your hair was a tantalizing reminder of your submission, pulling you just right, guiding you deeper onto his cock as you struggled to breathe.

The taste of him filled your senses—salt and heat—overwhelming you with every thrust. You felt like you were floating in a blissful haze, completely consumed by them.

Ino’s pace increased, his thrusts deep and forceful, each one sending pleasure spiraling through your body.

You could feel every inch of him as he filled you from behind, stretching you in ways that made your head spin.

The sensation of being filled from both ends was exquisite; it was as if you were being split open, filled to the brim with pleasure that was both dizzying and deliciously intense.

“Such a good little slut,” Ino breathed, his voice thick with lust as he leaned closer, his hands gripping your hips.

The way he filled you completely, thrusting deep and slow before picking up the pace, made you whimper in response.

You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, dripping down your thighs as your body reacted instinctively to the raw, primal urges surging within you.

“Look at you,” Nanami said, his voice low and steady, contrasting with the chaos of your emotions.

“So eager, so desperate. Just for us.” His thrusts grew more insistent, each movement pushing you closer to the brink, demanding everything you had to give.

With every stroke of Ino’s hips against yours, the pleasure built like a coiled spring, ready to snap at any moment.

The rhythmic slap of skin against skin, the heavy breaths that filled the air, and the intoxicating heat radiating from both of them enveloped you in a cocoon of bliss.

“Don’t you dare come until we tell you to,” Nanami growled, his grip tightening on your hair, sending a shiver down your spine.

The tension in your body became almost unbearable, your thighs quaking with the effort to hold back the impending wave of pleasure.

The thrill of submission sent waves of warmth flooding through you, and you felt alive, pulsating with need.

A muffled sound escaped your throat, a blend of desperation and desire as you felt the pressure building within you. Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes, each thrust driving you closer to a peak you could taste but couldn’t reach.

“Good,” Ino replied, a dark grin spreading across his face as he thrust harder, the force of his movements sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body.

“Just keep taking it, and we’ll reward you.”

You could feel the heat building deep within you, your body desperate to release, yet every time you got close, the control they exerted over you kept you teetering on the edge.

Each thrust, each slap, and every harsh pull of your hair drew you further into a haze of lust, completely lost to the sensations.

“Look at you, all flushed and needy,” Nanami taunted, his voice a deep rumble that sent shivers coursing through you. “You want to come, don’t you?”

The only response you could muster was another stifled moan, a sound filled with desperate longing that echoed around Nanami’s length.

The pleasure coursed through you, thick and suffocating, and you felt as if you were drowning in the overwhelming sensations.

“Then just hold on a little longer,” he urged, his movements becoming more rhythmic, driving deeper, pushing you closer to the precipice with each powerful thrust.

As they worked together, the world around you faded into nothing, leaving only the heat, the pleasure, and the intoxicating dominance of both men.

You were theirs, completely lost in the overwhelming sensations of being filled from both ends, caught in a whirlwind of pleasure that you never wanted to end.

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atzaurora · 4 months ago

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╰┈➤ ɪɴᴛᴏxɪᴄᴀᴛɪɴɢ

[˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗] mіძᥒіgһ𝗍 mᥱᥣ᥆ძіᥱs

❥ 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓: Hongjoong

➤ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: fem!idol!songwriter!reader x idol!songwriter!hongjoong

➤ 𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆𝒔: imagine (smut)

➤ 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑: group members, good friends

.ᐟ.ᐟ𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔.ᐟ.ᐟ: 18+/smut/suggestive content, MDNI!!!, unprotected sex

➤ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Stuck in the studio late at night with Hongjoong and who knew, what you were writing in the song would turn into reality...

➤ 𝒘/𝒄: > not counted <

➤ 𝒂/𝒏: as you can see I changed my theme for my blog >.< I hope y'all like it! anyways enjoy this fanfic with Hongjoong

if you have any ideas or wishes let me know, requests are open

here's my [𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕]!

[𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕]here!

about me, my writings, request rules [𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆]

It was late at night, too late to form a straight thought around all of the work in front of you.

Being in the songwriting position alongside Hongjoong could be a blessing and a curse at the same time. You loved writing songs, putting your all into the lyrics but you hated how long you and him had to stay up sometimes just to find the right words.

Eventually the words came to your minds as you sat there scribbling it down onto a piece of paper and testing out some beats that could fit the vibe of the song. Hongjoong groaned, leaning back into his chair, his hands covering his eyes in exhaustion.

"Shit, it's so late already," he glanced at you, lowering the hands from his face. "Do you want to go to sleep? You must be tired already?"

You smiled at how he looked out for you but shook your head. "No, it's alright. Plus, we both should write the song. I don't want to leave you to it all alone."

He nods approvingly. "Yeah, you're right. But before you collapse please tell me, we can always continue tomorrow, okay?"

"Yes, I know, but I'm fine, I'm not that tired." It was sort of a lie to be honest because in fact you were tired already. You turned back to face the paper.

Hongjoong’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips before he turned back to his notebook. The two of you worked in silence, the only sounds being the scratching of pens on paper and the occasional sigh of frustration. The lyrics were shaping up nicely, weaving a tale of forbidden desire and hidden passion.

As the night wore on, the words on the page grew increasingly sensual. The group had agreed earlier on doing a song a little more explicit than usual just to test it out.

Hongjoong’s voice softened as he read aloud a particularly provocative line. “Your touch ignites a fire, burning with forbidden desire…” He trailed off, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. There was something different in his gaze, something darker and more intense.

You felt a shiver run down your spine, the atmosphere in the room shifting palpably. “That’s... perfect,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Hongjoong’s eyes stayed locked on yours, a small smirk forming on his lips. “Yeah? You think so?” He leaned closer, his hand brushing against yours as he reached for a pencil. The contact was brief, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you.

“Definitely,” you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly. You tried to focus on the paper in front of you, but the proximity of Hongjoong was making it difficult to concentrate. His cologne, a mix of cedarwood and vanilla, was intoxicating.

As the song continued to take shape, the lyrics grew bolder, more explicit. You could feel the tension building between you, an unspoken understanding passing between the two of you. Hongjoong’s touches became more frequent, more deliberate. His fingers would linger on yours a moment too long, his knee would brush against yours under the table.

It was becoming harder to ignore the growing heat between you. Finally, Hongjoong put his pen down, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. “I think we’ve got something really special here,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Don’t you think?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah, we do.”

Hongjoong’s gaze was intense, his eyes dark with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. He reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You know,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, “some of these lyrics... they make me think of you.”

Your breath hitched, the air between you charged with electricity. “Hongjoong...” you whispered, your voice trailing off as he leaned closer

“Tell me if I’m out of line,” he said softly, his lips just inches from yours. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. About us.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, soft and insistent. You melted into the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The notebook and pens scattered to the floor as Hongjoong lifted you onto his lap, your legs straddling his waist.

The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent. His hands roamed over your body, exploring and caressing. You could feel the hard evidence of his arousal pressing against you, sending a thrill of excitement through your body.

Hongjoong’s lips trailed down your neck, sucking and nibbling, leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake. You moaned softly, your hips grinding against him as you sought more friction. His hands slipped under your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“God, Y/N,” he groaned, his lips returning to yours in a heated kiss. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You rocked your hips against him, feeling the heat between you growing. “Show me,” you whispered, your voice breathless.

Hongjoong didn’t need any more encouragement. He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you over to the couch in the corner of the studio. He laid you down gently, his body covering yours as he kissed you deeply.

Your hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. He helped you, shrugging off his shirt and tossing it aside before returning his attention to you. His hands slid under your shirt, pushing it up and over your head.

His lips found your breasts, sucking and licking, drawing soft moans from your lips. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, your body arching towards him as he continued his ministrations.

“Hongjoong, please,” you gasped, your need for him growing unbearable.

He smiled against your skin, his hands moving to unbutton your jeans. “I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with promise.

As he removed the last of your clothing, you could feel the cool air of the studio against your heated skin. Hongjoong’s eyes roamed over your body, his expression one of pure desire. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips capturing yours once more.

His hands and lips explored every inch of you, leaving you breathless and wanting. When he finally positioned himself between your legs, you could hardly stand the anticipation.

You felt his body heat radiating against your own skin, making you feel hot despite the fresh breeze from the air conditioner.

He took his dick into one of his hand, the other one holding your waist down, in a firm grip. His tip grazed your hole, drawing circles around it.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any hesitation.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice filled with need. “Please, Hongjoong.”

He entered you slowly, the sensation overwhelming. You gasped, your nails digging into his back as he began to move. The rhythm he set was slow and deliberate, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss. “You feel so good.”

You could only moan in response, your body arching towards his as the pleasure built. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you to meet his thrusts.

Your hips lifted away from the soft fabric, which each thrust, only for him to take your sides and press them down. "Come one, doll, stay put."

The sound of your combined moans and the slap of skin filled the room, the intensity of your connection leaving you breathless.

His cock slammed harder into you, burying himself deeper and hitting your gummy spot. "R-right there," you whimpered, grabbing onto his wrists.

As you reached your peak, Hongjoong’s name fell from your lips in a breathless cry. He followed soon after, his body tensing as he found his release.

Your liquids mixed inside you, finding their way around his length and leaking out once he pulled out of you.

The two of you lay there for a moment, catching your breath. Hongjoong’s hand brushed a strand of hair from your face, his eyes filled with tenderness. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his thumb caressing your cheek.

You nodded, a smile spreading across your lips. “Yeah, I’m more than okay.”

He chuckled softly, pulling you into his arms. “Good. Because I don’t think I can ever get enough of you.”

You snuggled into his embrace, feeling content and happy. As you lay there in the afterglow, you couldn’t help but think that this night had changed everything.

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