#their first mistake was asking what I wanted

[catchastarorten]

—100 loaves of bread.

Pairing: the salesman/recruiter x bakeryowner!fem!reader

Summary: it started with a few visits from him buying 100 loaves of bread each time from your little bakery, but overtime the two of you started to get familiar, little did you know about his ‘work’ and how he should’ve given the card to you but didn't...

Content: fluff, aggressive stomping on bread, him having a soft spot for you, trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care about you (it doesn’t work lol), a bit of reader's backstory, self-conflict and a bit of change of heart from him, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 2.1k

You were wiping down the counter when the familiar chime of the bell above the door jingled. It was late in the afternoon, and the bakery was quiet, except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the faint scent of freshly baked bread and sugar lingering in the air. You glanced up, already knowing who it was. He was here again—the man with the sharp suit and the briefcase who bought bread in quantities that always left you baffled.

“Afternoon,” you said, watching as he walked in with the same calm, measured way as always. He almost looked too friendly for someone who carried himself so formally.

“Afternoon,” he replied, stepping up to the counter and resting his briefcase at his feet. “I’ll need the usual. A hundred loaves.”

A hundred loaves of bread. It was such a ridiculous request, and yet, he never failed to make it.

You’d asked him once, early on, what on earth he did with all that bread. Selling it somewhere else for a profit? Feeding a small army? Storing up for an apocalypse? He had only smiled at you then, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and said, “Something like that.”

It had been weeks since his first visit, and by now, the routine was familiar. You’d load loaf after loaf into paper bags while he stood patiently, sometimes asking about your day, sometimes quietly observing the modest little bakery. Today, though, you felt compelled to ask again.

“Are you sure you want all of it?” you asked, sliding the first bag across the counter. “That’s… a lot of bread.”

He smiled faintly, reaching for the bag and setting it beside him. “You ask me that every time.”

“Well, it’s not everyday someone comes in and buys out half my stock,” you said, tilting your head. “It makes me curious.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, he seemed like he might answer—really answer. But then he only shrugged slightly, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. “Let’s just say it goes to good use.”

You frowned, unsatisfied but unwilling to press further. He always paid in cash, crisp bills that he counted out with precision. You noticed, as you often did, that he never left without dropping a generous tip into the glass jar by the register. He offered you a warm look as he slipped a few bills into the tip jar again.

“Keep up the good work,” he said. “Your bread’s the best in the city.”

You weren’t sure whether to be flattered or suspicious. He seemed genuine, but there was something about him—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Still, it wasn’t your place to pry. You handed him the last of the bags, and he left with the same polite nod as always.

The next time he came in, it wasn’t for a hundred loaves of bread.

You were behind the counter again, rearranging a tray of pastries, when you heard the door chime. Glancing up, you saw him standing there, his briefcase nowhere in sight.

“Not the usual today?” you asked, half-teasing.

He smiled slightly, stepping up to the counter. “Not today. I was thinking I’d try something different.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

He scanned the display case, his eyes lingering on a slice of strawberry shortcake near the center. “That,” he said, pointing.

You wrapped up the slice for him, and when you handed it over, he didn’t leave right away. Instead, he took a seat at one of the small tables by the window—a seat no one ever seemed to take—and unwrapped the cake with a kind of deliberate care. You watched, unable to help yourself, as he took a bite.

“It’s good,” he mumbled, almost to himself. “Really good.”

A flicker of amusement crossed your face as you watched him eat. He wasn’t as neat as you’d expected—a bit of whipped cream ended up on the corner of his mouth, and he licked it away absentmindedly, his gaze drifting to the shelves of decorative knick-knacks you’d lined the walls with.

“I never really noticed these before,” he said, gesturing toward a small ceramic cat perched on one of the shelves. “Did you make them?”

You shook your head. “No, those were my parents’. They used to run this place before me. They had a thing for collecting stuff like that.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s nice. Feels… homey.”

You didn’t know why, but his words left you oddly self-conscious. The bakery had always been your parents’ dream, not yours, and while you’d taken it over out of necessity, you’d never thought much about how it felt to anyone else. But hearing him say it was homey made you feel a faint sense of pride.

“Thanks,” you said softly.

He stayed longer than usual that day, finishing his cake and ordering a coffee to go with it.

You found yourself talking to him more than you normally would with a customer. He asked about the bakery, about your favorite thing to bake, about whether you’d ever considered expanding. You didn’t ask about him—not directly—but you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of man he was.

By the time he left, it was dark outside, and the bakery was empty except for you. As you locked up for the night, you found yourself thinking about his smile, the way it lingered even after he was gone.

One day, as he was paying for a loaf of sourdough, he looked at you, his head tilting slightly. “Do you ever think about getting out of here?” he asked.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… this place is great, but don’t you ever wonder what else is out there?”

You hesitated. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought about it—leaving, starting fresh somewhere new—but the bakery was all you’d ever known. It was safe, familiar. And after your parents passed, it felt like the only thing that tethered you to them.

“Sometimes,” you admitted. “But I don’t know. This place… it’s home.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, there was a silence between you. Then he smiled again, that warm, almost disarming smile, and slid an extra bill across the counter. “For the tip jar,” he said.

You watched as he walked out the door, his briefcase in hand, and wondered—for the hundredth time—what kind of life he led.

...

The bell above the bakery door chimed familiarly.

He stepped inside, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket, his polished demeanor there as always. But inside, his stomach churned. He had made a decision today—a decision that, for once, made him feel something like guilt.

He scanned the shop. You were at the counter, hands dusted with flour as you arranged freshly baked rolls on a tray. The soft glow of the afternoon light spilling through the window caught on your hair, and the faintest smile tugged at your lips when you saw him. That smile… It was a problem.

“Afternoon,” you said, just as you always did. Your voice was warm, even though he could see the slight tiredness beneath it. That smile didn’t reach your eyes as much these days, but you still tried, didn’t you?

He nodded, keeping his face neutral. “Afternoon.”

You weren’t supposed to matter to him. That was the rule. He had a job to do, a system to uphold, and people like you—drowning in debt—were just part of the equation. It shouldn't have mattered how good-hearted you were, how hardworking you were.

You weren’t special... at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

He first started coming to your bakery for convenience, but as time passed, the lines started to blur. The bread looked good, better than most places in this part of the city, and you didn’t ask too many questions.

The loaves weren’t for eating, of course. They were for a little ‘social experiment’.

“Bread or lottery?” That’s what he’d ask them—the desperate, homeless souls he scouted in the park. It was always the same. He’d hold out a loaf in one hand, a lottery scratcher in the other. The bread could fill their stomachs. But the lottery ticket? That promised a chance. A gamble. A way out.

They always chose the ticket. Every time.

He knew what came next. The moment they realized it wasn’t a winning ticket after all. They’d just stared at him, some cursed out loud, some were just disappointed, their hopes bleeding out onto the pavement.

And the bread? He destroyed it. Stomped it into the ground until it was unrecognizable, crumbs scattering across the concrete.

It was dramatic, yes, but it served its purpose. It showed them the choice that they had made, the food that they had thrown away and destroyed, not him. It was necessary. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

But the bread came from you.

That detail had started to bother him more and more. You put your heart into every loaf, every pastry, every crumb that came out of your oven. He saw it in the way you worked, the way you carefully packed the loaves into paper bags for him, the way you smiled when he left a tip. He had started tipping more, as if that would excuse him of the guilt of what he was doing with your work—it didn’t.

He had been keeping tabs on you. He knew about your debts, the ones you and your brother had racked up trying to keep the bakery afloat after your parents passed. He knew how hard you worked to stay above water, how you barely made enough to cover the bills some months.

You were exactly the kind of person he was supposed to recruit.

He told himself that’s why he started coming more often. He needed to assess you, to figure out the right moment to offer you the card. But the truth was, he liked being in the bakery. He liked the smell of fresh bread and sugar, the hum of the old refrigerator, the quiet way you moved behind the counter. He liked your voice when you asked him how his day was going, even though he never answered honestly.

And he hated himself for liking any of it.

The card was in his pocket today. He had been carrying it around for a while now, waiting for the right moment.

Today, he had decided, would be the day. After all, you deserved it, right? The games were brutal, yes, but they were also fair. A chance for people like you to escape the crushing weight of debt.

That’s what he told himself as he walked into the bakery. But when you looked up at him, your flour-dusted hands resting on the counter, and said, “So, what are you getting today?”—he froze.

He could feel the card in his pocket, its edges pressing against his fingers. All he had to do was pull it out, slide it across the counter, and say the words. But he couldn’t do it. Not to you.

Instead, he cleared his throat. “I’ll take another slice of that cake,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt.

You looked over to the display. “The strawberry one?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his finger gently tapping the display glass that caged all the pastries. “It’s… good.”

You smiled faintly, wrapping up the slice and handing it to him. “Anything else?”

He hesitated, the card burning a hole in his pocket. But then your eyes met his, and something in them—something warm, something real—made his resolve crumble.

“No,” he said softly. “That’s all.”

As he ate the cake at the small table by the window again, he told himself that letting you go was the right thing to do. You didn’t belong in the games. You didn’t belong in his world. And yet, he felt something close to longing as he watched you work behind the counter, your movements quick and precise, your expression focused.

For the first time in a very, very long time, he felt human.

When he left the bakery that day, he slipped a few extra bills into the tip jar. He told himself it was just another gesture, another way to balance the scales. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough to make up for what he did—what he was.

And yet, he didn’t offer you the card. He didn’t bring it the next time he visited, or the time after that. He told himself he’d do it eventually, that it was inevitable. But the truth was, he didn’t have the heart to drag you into the darkness he inhabited every day.

You weren’t like him. And he wanted—no, needed—to keep it that way.

[mattybsgroupie]

wet ♡ chris sturniolo

— CONTENTS: established relationship; making out; handjob (m receiving); thigh riding (f); PISS kink; mommy kink dom!reader; sub!chris

— NOTES: okay, this is the last time im bringing a taboo kink lmfao if my account gets suspended after posting this it’s not my fault you guys wanted it!!! if you don’t feel comfortable, please DO NOT READ. none of this is real, it’s just a fanfiction. inspired by this ask + the wedding pics 🙈 not proofread so i apologize for any mistakes, enjoy and please let me know if it was up to your expectations!

chris’s hands ran through your body, palming every inch of your flesh. his long fingers gripped on your hair, gently pulling your scalp as he grinned before biting your lower lip. he looked good and he knew it. you were his “plus one” on a family wedding and you couldn’t be happier — but chris wouldn’t stop acting up.

throughout that day, he kept on teasing you. smacking your ass as he crossed the dance floor, making you sit on his lap — in front of his parents — so you could feel his boner, taking you to the bathroom and sucking your tits. the ride home was quiet, chris’s pants becoming tighter and your panties, wetter.

you didn’t waste time. as soon as you arrived home, chris pulled you closer, pressed you against the wall and made your way to the bedroom between kisses and moans.

chris had his back resting on the headboard as you crawled to his lap, fully sitting over his boner. he groaned, throwing his head back and immediately placing his palms on your hips, trying to pull your satin dress up. 

you clicked your tongue once you realized what chris was trying to do. “nuh uh” you said, grabbing his wrists and placing them in front of you. his blue orbs flickered between your dress and his pants, silently pleading you for some attention. “you had all the chances to behave at the wedding, and yet you chose to act up” you spitted out, touching the fabric of his tie with your index. chris gulped as you interlocked the cloth between your fingers, pulling him closer. a choked moan came from the back of his throat, his chest suddenly inflating as the need for air took over his mind. 

you loosened your grip, noticing his parted, dry lips and the pink tint on his cheeks. “i think you need to learn how to behave” you continued, removing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. his fists were still resting on your thighs, but chris pulled away when you brought the tie to his hands. “i love you, and i want you to do this, but i need to pee first” chris said.

you chuckled at his innocence, gently caressing his flushed cheek with your thumb. not only chris would not be allowed to cum, his bathroom privileges were also revoked. “you’re not going anywhere, sweetheart” you cooed, the warm tone sending a shiver down his spine. “b-but! i need to go!” he protested, eyes suddenly widening as you tied the knot around his wrists, lifting his arms so they’d be resting above his head.

“it’s your own fault for drinking that much at the wedding” you said, adjusting yourself on his lap. you went back to the task of removing his shirt, slowly opening the white buttons across his torso. chris whined when you reached the last one, hoping that you’d let him to use the bathroom soon.

“please ma, i really have to go” he pleaded. you laid your palm against his bare chest, tracing circular motions towards his lower belly. you leaned in for a kiss, and the moment his voracious, desperate lips touched yours, you pressed his bladder. chris jerked his body forward, startled by your sudden action. “fuck! don’t f-fucking do that” he complained, furrowing his eyebrows. “i’m gonna fucking piss myself or something”.

“hey, look at me” you called chris, grabbing his jaw and forcing his chin upwards. “don’t worry about it, yeah?” you cooed once again, brushing your thumb over his lower lip. chris allowed you to get inside his mouth, latching his lips around your knuckle and sucking it. 

the sight in front of you looked straight out of a porno. chris had his arms up, his fingers motioning for no apparent reason. tiny droplets of sweat glued his brown locks to his forehead, and a small amount of drool started to form on the corners of his mouth. his opened shirt exposed his chest, red scratches from your nails contrasting with his pale skin. chris squirmed around, trying to ignore the growing pressure on his tummy. 

he couldn’t enjoy what you were about to do. you removed your dress, standing naked in front of him before sitting on one of his thighs. your pussy was drenched in wetness, the heatness coming from both bodies making your cunt throb against his clothed leg. the fabric was thick and somewhat itchy, giving you the perfect amount of roughness to hump chris.

chris threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut and whimpering “i wanna touch you so bad”. you ignored his pleads, focusing on your own pleasure until you decided you needed some more balance to go faster. your palm rested on chris’s tummy and gave it one last push, thrusting your hips forward. the cloth rubbed against your folds and a specific sewing of his pocket touched your clit, bringing you closer to the edge.

“mommy! please d-don’t push again” chris whined, taking you out of your trance. “please, i can’t hold it anymore! it hurts!” he complained, not being able to keep watching you getting off while his pathetic dick remained untouched.

“be a good boy and let mommy cum, yeah?” you said. “then you can make a mess, i promise” you sealed your lips together, now using his shoulders for support. his whimpers became louder as your orgasm approached, the repetitive “mommy” coming from his mouth throwing you over the edge. your body trembled as you released, the juices from your throbbing cunt leaking down his pants.

but that was not the only wet thing there. as you came back from your high, you felt something warmer quickly spreading under you. you opened your eyes to see the huge stain forming on chris’s pants, wetness taking over his legs. chris was pissing himself. 

he wouldn’t dare look at you. he was so embarrassed. he felt so helpless, so desperate, so humiliated. “‘m sorry— ‘m sorry i c-couldn’t hold it!”

you smiled at him, cupping his cheeks together, a small pout forming on his lips. “you did such a good job holding for so long” you praised, running your fingers through his hair as you continued to whisper, “you’ve made a mess and that’s what i wanted, hm? i’m not mad” you assured him. “you took your punishment like a good boy and i’m so proud of you”

chris let out a sigh of relief, thanking you as you untied the knot around his wrists, finally giving his arms some rest. “now let’s finish the mess you started” you said as you unbuckled his belt, revealing his completely soaked underwear. you chuckled at the sight in front of you, helping chris to remove his final piece of clothing before wrapping your fingers around his cock, spreading the pre-cum that leaked from his slit. 

“fuck fuck fuck” chris repeated, bucking his hips forward and thrusting inside your fist. his cock twitched inside your palm, his thick, swollen veins telling you he was about to burst. “i held for so long please please please i need to cum”

“already?” you playfully responded, fastening your pace. “cum! gon’ cum!” he cried out loud, not waiting for your permission. his entire body trembled beneath you, thick ropes of cum spurting from his tip. the white, sticky liquid spilled on your hand and his own tummy, spams taking over his worn out figure.

you laid on top of chris, snuggling further in his embrace as both of you recovered from such an intense session. after a while, chris spoke up. “listen, i don’t wanna sleep in my own piss so… i think we should take a shower” you giggled, playfully hitting his chest. “i’m serious. and we need to buy a waterproof mattress. next time i’m doing this to you”

— once again not using the actual taglist cause it’s not everyone’s cup of tea ♡⊹𑄽୧

chris masterlist | complete masterlist

[canideformed]

No ill will because I can (somewhat) understand the sentiment—but this is a problematic attitude.

I get it. I know. People on the internet are dicks. Everything is going to offend someone. But if you hesitate to do something because a hypothetical person might get mad at you… that’s not good. Especially when said thing you’re now hesitating to do is represent a minority.

Because here’s the thing. Yes, somebody might get mad. But if nobody steps up for a minority because they’re scared of what people (who probably mostly aren’t even going to be part of said minority) will say, that is not a good thing. People should be okay making mistakes and not being universally loved. You should be able to take a few annoying assholes online at the cost of giving a minority a positive representation. The fact that some people aren’t only leads me to assume it’s because of a lack of emotional maturity or some sort of bigoted attitude. Again, I don’t mean anything bad by it. Me pointing out an attitude that isn’t great, that it might potentially be bigoted or a result of emotional immaturity, is not meant to be negative per se. I’m just pointing it out because this is not an attitude I find productive.

And look, if you’re not part of a minority you’re representing, the fact is that you may get something wrong. Even people who are parts of the minorities they’re representing can perpetuate bigotry. But accidentally fucking up when trying to put more representation of a minority out into the world and learning from your mistakes is 1,000x better than 1. never standing up for anybody or representing diversity because you don’t want to be criticised and 2. never fucking up and thus never learning that that attitude/stereotype is flawed in the first place.

And like, again. You can always ask people. You can ask me about being physically disabled, deformed, and a cane user. You can ask me about being intersex and trans. There are people you can go to to ask about this stuff. And our opinions should matter more to you than internet asshole #49672.

Really wish I saw more art of deformed characters. More diversity in bodies. I feel like people are scared to draw us because they’re worried they’ll do it wrong or something. But 1. wrong and trying is better than nothing, and 2. you can always ask somebody for input. There are always people who are willing to answer your questions, you just have to find them. My asks are always open and I know a to of other people who are like that, too.

[maretinelli]

SWEET DISASTERS

Lando Norris X fem!reader

Summary: All the times Y/n was so clumsy and got genuine laughs out of her boyfriend.

Words: 2.7K+

Warnings: Makeout session, broken glass, mentions of injury but very funny, disastrous and cute Lando

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. And this could EASILY happen to me, I'm a walking disaster too.

MASTERLIST

Y/n was putting her bags in the trunk of the car, already getting ready to go back to university after a long weekend at Lando's house.

He, always helpful, insisted on taking the larger suitcases from the apartment to the car, while she organized everything in the back.

"That was the last one!" Lando warned, carrying the largest suitcase with annoying ease. He gave his girlfriend a soft kiss on the shoulder.

Y/n, with her head already inside the trunk, tried to adjust each item as if it were a game of Tetris.

"Okay, just slide it in there and you're done!" She said, patting the space she'd just made. Lando put the suitcase in place, then mumbled something about getting something from the driver's seat. She just waved her hand, focused on getting everything ready.

That's when it happened.

Y/n, trying to reach a bag that had fallen to the bottom of the trunk, lost her balance.

"Ops!"

Was all he could say before he fell into the compartment with everything. The impact was enough for the lid, by pure gravity, to close with a click.

Y/n blinked a few times, processing what had just happened. She was literally trapped in the trunk.

"Lando!" She called, her voice a little muffled, but not at all desperate.

He didn't answer. He was probably still in the front seat, distracted. "Lando dear, can you come here real quick?"

Still no response, she tried something more flashy. Somehow, she managed to stretch out her leg and started tapping her foot against the back window.

Lando, hearing the muffled sound and knocking, looked up. "Y/n love, what was that?" he muttered. Getting out of the car and walking to the back, when he saw the trunk closed and Y/n's foot sticking out the side, he froze for a second.

And then he started laughing.

"Y/n, for the love of God, what are you doing in there?" He asked, almost out of breath.

"I went to pack my bags and... well, I got ready too... Now, could you open this before I turn into a statue in here?"

Still laughing, Lando opened the trunk, revealing Y/n curled up, with red cheeks and an awkward smile.

"Are you okay there or do you want me to give you a little more time to reflect on your life decisions?"

Y/n got out of the trunk, fixing her hair, while he was still trying to compose himself. "Very funny, Norris. Next time, I'll leave you stuck in there and see what it's like."

"Impossible. I'm too smart to let myself fall into a trap like that," he replied, winking at her. But still laughing.

Y/n rolled her eyes, but soon started laughing along. "Okay, but promise me one thing."

"What?"

"That you will never tell anyone about this."

Lando gave a mischievous grin. "No promises."

•••••••••••••••••••••

Winter was punishing outside, but inside the apartment, the weather was completely opposite. Y/n and Lando were on the couch, cuddled under a blanket, their cheeks flushed and not just from the heating. The kiss between the two started slowly, but it quickly intensified.

Y/n was sitting on Lando's lap, with her legs on either side of him, while their hands explored every inch of the other. Despite the cold outside, the warmth of the moment made them both forget that it was winter.

Y/n laughed between kisses, Lando's fingers wandering around her waist and up her back, leaving goosebumps along the way. She, in turn, began to run her hands over her own skin, pushing the fabric of her sweatshirt up, wanting to take it off.

But that's when disaster struck.

In her haste and in the heat of the moment, she pulled her sweatshirt over her head, but somehow the fabric got caught.

The shirt got tangled in her hair and completely covered her face, leaving only her arms raised and uselessly trapped. She started to laugh, but the sound was muffled by the sweatshirt that was still on her head.

"Lando... I think I need some help here!" She said, between muffled giggles.

Lando, who was already trying to hold back his laughter, couldn't hold it in any longer. He collapsed on the couch, laughing so loudly that his cheeks turned redder. "My God, you look like a ghost in the hoodie!" He said, his voice cracking with laughter.

Y/n crossed her arms, clearly giving up on trying to take off the piece of clothing herself. Now she looked even funnier, with her face covered and her arms crossed in frustration.

"If you don't stop laughing, I'll be here forever!" Y/n complained, but the playful tone in her voice revealed that she was having as much fun as he was.

"Sorry, sorry," Lando said, still struggling to contain his laughter. He finally leaned over to help her, pulling her sweatshirt down and tugging it back onto her body.

When her face became visible again, it was as red as his.

She got off his lap, adjusting her sweatshirt as she rolled her eyes. "Great. Now all the warm weather between us is gone to the universe." She said, trying to look serious but failing as a smile escaped at the end.

Lando, still laughing, leaned back against the couch and looked at her. "I can't deal with you sometimes. You're the most adorable disaster I've ever met."

Y/n giggled and threw a pillow at him. "Okay, okay. I'll make you some hot chocolate. Do you want some?"

"I do" Norris replied, still smiling. "But please try not to spill anything. The sweatshirt was stuck enough."

She laughed, shaking her head, and went into the kitchen while Lando stayed on the couch, the scene etched in his memory as just another of the many funny stories they would share.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

The night was special. After so much dedication, love and trust, they finally had something huge to celebrate their engagement.

Y/n, with her contagious energy, said that the moment deserved champagne, and Lando agreed, smiling when he saw the excitement in her eyes.

She smiled, her eyes flicking between her future husband and the ring she had received a few hours earlier.

"Today is our day! I insist on popping the champagne!" She declared, as Lando followed her to the kitchen with a smile on his face, taking the opportunity to leave little kisses on his bride's face along the way.

In the kitchen, Lando leaned casually on the marble counter, watching Y/n grab a bottle of champagne from the small wine cellar they had in the apartment.

"Are you sure you want to do this? Remember the last time you tried to open a bottle of bubbly?" He teased with a mischievous smile.

"I'm absolutely prepared!" Y/n replied confidently. While she adjusted the bottle, Lando took two crystal glasses from the cabinet and carefully placed them on the counter, a few inches away.

"Alright, Miss Confident Norris. Do the honors," Lando said, crossing his arms, smiling and watching.

Y/n held the bottle with determination and looked at Lando. "To all the amazing moments that are yet to come." She said with a wide smile.

And then it happened.

The sound of the cork popping echoed through the kitchen. But to Y/n's horror, the cap flew like a missile, hitting the cabinet hard. The impact was so strong that it bounced directly off the glasses hanging on the counter. The sound of breaking glass was immediate - three glasses fell into the sink and shattered.

"OH MY GOD!" Y/n screamed, cowering close to the pilot as the sound of shards echoed through the kitchen. Lando also jumped a little, hugging her from the side, but soon began to laugh.

"I can't believe this happened..." Y/n said, her hand over her mouth, looking at the broken pieces in the sink. Her eyes were slightly watery, and she made a face like she was about to cry. "I broke everything..."

Lando, on the other hand, couldn't hold it in. He was laughing so hard he could barely speak, tears streaming down his eyes as he held the two glasses he managed to save.

"You're... amazing! Who else can turn an engagement celebration into a glass battlefield?!"

"Lando, stop laughing, this is serious!" Y/n complained, but his amused expression was so contagious that she couldn't help but smile a little.

Still laughing, he walked over to her, set their glasses down on the counter, and pulled her in for a quick kiss on the cheek. "You definitely made it even more memorable. I'll never forget our killer champagne."

Y/n let out a laugh, shaking her head. "Next time, I'll leave it to you. You're more used to popping champagne."

"Good idea" he replied, still smiling. "But you have to admit, this was a lot more fun."

They both laughed together as they began to clean up the pieces of glass, turning the disaster into yet another fun memory that they would always carry with them.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Lando was sitting on the couch, his arms resting on the back as he watched Y/n walk around the room, gesturing excitedly. She was telling him about the visit she made to her family while he was out running. His smile was impossible to hide, the passion with which she talked about anything always left him enchanted. seeing her

"And then my little brother...you know how energetic he is, he started teaching me some karate moves," Y/n said, laughing as she imitated the 15-year-old's serious tone. "He said I needed to learn how to defend myself, you know? Because according to him: 'You never know when you're going to need a spinning kick.'"

Lando let out a low chuckle, "Well, that sounds pretty useful. Just in case one of my adversaries decides to show up on the street."

"Exactly!" Y/n agreed, still laughing, as she stopped in the middle of the room and looked at him. "Want to see what the move looks like? It's pretty cool."

He crossed his arms, leaning forward slightly with a fond, amused smile. "Sure thing, love. Show me, Karate Champion."

She laughed, excited that he was interested, and positioned herself in the center of the room, adjusting her feet as her brother had taught her.

"See? First you prepare like this..." She showed the starting position, with her hands raised in guard. "And then you spin and-"

Before I could finish explaining, Y/n did the spin, but her foot didn't meet the air like she planned. The kick hit the side of the TV with a loud THUD, and the force of the impact was enough to knock it to the ground.

"Oh...my...God!" She screamed, her eyes widening as she clapped her hand over her mouth. She looked up to see the TV screen with a huge diagonal crack in it.

Lando froze for a second, but soon burst out laughing, holding his stomach as he fell back against the couch. "You... you just... knocked out the TV!" He said, struggling between laughs.

Y/n was still on the floor, a little scared by the situation with the TV, but also starting to find it funny. "I'm fine, before you ask. But I don't think the TV is." She said, looking at the destroyed screen with an expression of pure guilt.

Lando approached her, kneeling beside her while still laughing. "Are you okay? Didn't you sprain anything in your big epic stunt?"

"No, just my dignity," she replied, rolling her eyes but smiling. "And of course, the poor electronic device..."

He let out another laugh and ran his hand through her hair. "Well, at least the TV was the only casualty. Who knew my couch was a war zone?"

"Oh, shut up" Y/n said, still laughing, as she threw herself onto his chest, pushing him lightly. The two ended up lying on the living room floor, laughing together.

Lando took advantage of the proximity to start giving her little kisses on the face. "My love, you are the sweetest disaster I've ever seen" He murmured between kisses, drawing a smile from her. "And next time, I think it's better not to mix karate and electronics" He finished, laughing, while Y/n shook her head and promised to stay away from the TV.

"Damn, we're going to have to go out and buy a new TV."

Lando laughs and caresses her face. "That's the least of it."

•••••••••••••••••••••••

The end of year holidays were peaceful and full of special moments. Y/n and Lando had decided to spend them with her family, in the cozy country house that her mother loved. The weather was perfect - cold enough to remind her of winter, but sunny enough for outdoor games.

Lando was on the deck, sitting in one of the comfortable chairs and chatting with Y/n's father, her brothers and some of her brothers-in-law. They were laughing and exchanging stories while, on the lawn, Y/n played baseball with her nephews, trying to keep up with the children's boundless energy.

One of Y/n's brothers, laughing, commented as he looked at her on the lawn. "So, Lando, how many disasters has my sister caused since they got here?"

The family knew what a disastrous and energetic person Y/n was. This had been the case since the day she was born.

Lando chuckled, leaning his elbow on the arm of the chair and watching Y/n excitedly, holding the baseball bat with an almost childish enthusiasm.

"Oh, more than I can count. But honestly, it's part of her charm, isn't it?" He gave a knowing smile, drawing laughter from the others. "It's one of the things I fell in love with her for..." He whispers, smiling fondly.

Everyone on the deck looked in her direction, just in time to see Y/n positioning herself to hit the ball that one of her nephews threw.

She took confident aim and swung the cue, but instead of hitting the ball, she ended up swinging awkwardly and hitting herself hard in the back.

"AH!" Her scream echoed, and Y/n immediately dropped the bat, leaning over and falling backwards onto the grass.

Lando stood up quickly, as he saw the children run to her, surrounding her with worried expressions. He hurriedly got down from the deck, startled by the scream, but slowed down when he saw Y/n lying on the grass, laughing.

"Are you laughing?" He asked in disbelief as he knelt down beside her.

"I just hit myself with a bat, Lan! What else can I do but laugh?!" Y/n replied, holding her stomach from laughing so hard, even with the discomfort in her back.

Lando started laughing along, relieved that it wasn't anything more serious. He helped her sit on the grass, and Y/n, still laughing, handed the bat to one of her nephews.

"Okay, Auntie's sweet children. Please continue playing without Auntie this time." She smiled. And even though they were scared and reluctant, the little ones started playing again.

Even though his mood was light, Lando ran his hand gently down her back. "Let me see. Does it hurt a lot?"

"Oh, just a little." Lando looks at her. "Okay, maybe a lot." She admitted, grimacing.

"Excuse me, honey," he asked, lifting her shirt a little at the back. A red mark was beginning to form, indicating the bruise that would come. Lando sighed, gently rubbing his hand. "This is going to turn purple... you really are talented at getting hurt, you know that?"

Y/n held back a slight cry of pain, but soon rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the affection. "And you're talented at taking care of me. I think we make a perfect team."

He chuckled and kissed the side of her head. "My clumsy wonder woman. You are one of a kind."

Lando helped Y/n up, walking with her back to the deck.

Once they arrived, her father laughed, shaking his head. "Lando, I'm sure she does these things just to make sure you never lose the habit of taking care of her."

She rolls her eyes to try to hide the shy smile on her lips.

"Maybe" Lando replied with a smile, pulling Y/n closer. "But I wouldn't change a thing. She makes my days much more interesting."

Y/n laughed, shaking her head and leaning against her fiancé. Even with her clumsy tendencies, she knew that with Lando by her side, she would always have someone to laugh with her and love her unconditionally.

To him, his bride was nothing less than a true wonder woman.

[elikajinnie]

HI!!! can you do the enhypen prompt 16 and 17 with jay?? thank yoouu

P: Boyfriend!Jay X Fem Reader

Warnings: Suggestive Content, Whipped!Jay, we love a man who begs

note: i had time.. so yeah :) This for all my ladies who wear lacey underwear underneath the baggy clothes ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

16. "Do you want me to beg? Because I will." 17. "One more taste, and I swear I’ll lose control."

Jay absolutely loved seeing you, no matter the occasion or what you decided to wear. It didn’t matter if it was a casual hoodie and jeans, a simple summer dress, or the formal gown you once claimed didn’t suit you—it all reminded him of how breathtakingly beautiful you were. And to Jay, there was no arguing against that fact.

He could never understand why you sometimes doubted yourself, saying things like, “I don’t feel pretty today” or “This outfit doesn’t look good on me.” To him, those words simply didn’t make sense. He saw you through a lens tinted with love and admiration, one that made every aspect of you seem flawless. Your beauty wasn’t just about how you looked; it was in the way you carried yourself, the way you laughed, the way you treated others with kindness even when you didn’t have to.

In Jay’s mind, no other woman in the world could ever compare to you. Sure, there were plenty of beautiful women out there, but they weren’t you. You were the one who made him smile just by walking into a room. You were the one who knew him better than he knew himself sometimes, who made him feel safe, valued, and loved. You were the one he’d chosen, and to him, that made you irreplaceable.

There was also a quiet possessiveness about the way he adored you. Not in a controlling or overbearing way, but in the way he took pride in calling you his girlfriend. When he introduced you to his friends or casually mentioned you in conversation, there was always a flicker of pride in his voice. Jay loved showing you off, not because he wanted others to envy him (though, secretly, he didn’t mind if they did), but because he couldn’t help being proud of the fact that you were his.

And in his heart, Jay already knew he wanted you to be more than his girlfriend one day. He often imagined the moment he would ask you to marry him, rehearsing it in his mind and wondering how you might react. He didn’t want to rush you—he’d wait for as long as it took for you to be ready to take that step. But until then, he was more than happy to call you his girlfriend. To him, the title meant everything because it meant you were his, and he was yours.

Every day spent with you was a reminder of how lucky he was, and Jay never wanted you to forget how much he cherished you. In his eyes, you weren’t just beautiful; you were the kind of special that made him believe in soulmates.

He wanted you to be his forever. The thought of waking up next to you every morning, seeing you smile at him as the sunlight filtered through the curtains, was a dream he was determined to make a reality. Jay had no secrets when it came to you. He was like an open book, willingly laying himself bare in front of you, no matter how vulnerable it made him feel.

He trusted you with every corner of his soul, even the parts of himself he once thought were too messy or complicated to share with anyone. With you, there was no hesitation. If something was weighing on his mind, he told you. If he had a silly thought or a random idea, you were the first to hear it. If he made a mistake, he admitted it without shame, knowing you would never judge him harshly.

This honesty, though, also meant that his feelings for you spilled out in the most unfiltered ways. He would often find himself confessing just how much he loved you, even in the smallest, most casual moments. You could be doing something as mundane as scrolling through your phone, and Jay would blurt out, “I love you.” He couldn’t help himself really. His emotions for you were always bubbling just beneath the surface, waiting for the slightest excuse to overflow.

But there was more to his honesty than just his love—there was his desire, too. Jay wasn’t shy about how much he was drawn to you, how you had this effortless ability to captivate him in ways no one else ever could. It was in the way his eyes lingered on you a little too long when you weren’t looking, or the way he would lean in just a little closer than necessary when you spoke.

Sometimes, his words would betray just how deeply he craved you. It wasn’t always something he could control, especially when the thought of you consumed him in the best of ways. You could feel it in the way his hands would gently brush against yours, as if he was trying to be close to you without seeming too eager, but you both knew better.

“I can’t get you out of my head,” he’d admit sometimes. It wasn’t an exaggeration. He often found himself lost in thoughts of you, even when he should have been focused on other things. He would catch himself daydreaming, imagining the soft curve of your smile or the way you looked when you were nestled against him, your head resting on his chest.

Jay was always ready to voice what was on his mind, he wasn’t one to hide his thoughts, especially when it came to you. He didn’t even try to filter his reactions, which made everything he said feel honest.

You had just finished drying your hair after stepping out of the shower, the warmth of the dryer against your skin leaving a pleasant feeling while the bathroom smelled of the shampoo you liked. You stood in your simple, comfortable clothes, the fabric of your loose clothes falling over your skin, paired with a pair of lace underwear that you had bought on your birthday months ago.

It had been tucked away in the back of your closet, forgotten until now. You had never gotten the chance to wear it before, so when you found it still in its bag, the tag untouched, you decided today was the day. You had ripped the tag off without hesitation, and slipped it on, and now you found yourself rediscovering exactly why you had bought it. The way it felt against your skin, the way it hugged your curves, and the way it made you feel undeniably feminine—it was all so perfect.

You stood there for a moment, lost in your own thoughts, admiring the way it made you feel. But you were quickly pulled from your thoughts by the sudden knock on the bathroom door. “Are you finished in there?” Jay’s voice called out.

You quickly turned off the blow dryer and put it away, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face as you made your way to the door. You opened it to find Jay standing there with a laundry basket in his arms, his usual smile gracing his face. But when his eyes met yours, they flickered down for a brief second and up. Then, in a split second, they darted downwards again, clearly noticing the lace peeking out from under your clothes.

For a split second, he didn’t react—his eyes widened, and you could see him processing the sight in front of him, almost as if his brain couldn’t quite catch up with his eyes. His gaze lingered for a moment too long, and it was impossible not to notice the way his expression shifted slowly. His lips parted slightly, his breath catching as his eyes darted back up to yours, now a little more intense.

“Is that... lace?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper, like the question wasn’t one of curiosity, but more of surprise.

You could see his mind working, his thoughts clearly running wild as he took in the sight of you standing there. He swallowed hard, and for a moment, you both just stood there.

It wasn’t often that you saw Jay lose a bit of his usual composure, but now, his hands tightened around the laundry basket, his knuckles white as he tried to remain cool.

“You know,” he finally spoke again, his voice slightly more strained than before, “I was going to help with laundry, but I think I need a moment.” He was trying to regain some composure, but the way his eyes never left you made it clear that the sight of you had ignited something he couldn’t easily ignore.

Jay placed the laundry basket down slowly, the sound of it hitting the floor almost too loud in the silence that hung between you both. His eyes never left you, and his body seemed to move on its own, drawn to you like a magnet.

Without a word, his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer until his body was pressed against yours. The sudden closeness made your breath hitch, as his hands trailed around your waist, fingers grazing the fabric of the lace, the sensation sending a wave of warmth across your skin.

“God…” Jay groaned, the sound low and strained as his fingers gently ran along the edge of the lace, tracing the delicate pattern against your skin. His touch was tender and slow, as if he wanted to savor every second of feeling the lace beneath his fingertips.

You could see the struggle in his eyes, the way he fought to hold back, but there was no mistaking the desire that pulsed in him. “You’re killing me right now,” he murmured, his voice thick with longing. The words came out almost like a confession, so unfiltered, as if he couldn’t hide what he was feeling any longer. His breath was warm against your ear as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the side of your neck, the feeling sending a shiver down your spine.

His hands moved down, caressing the lace at your hips before pulling you even closer. The way his body responded to the touch, the way his groan escaped him, it all showed just how much he wanted you. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

Unable to resist, Jay leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was gentle at first, testing, exploring. But it didn’t stay gentle for long. The kiss deepened as he lost a bit of his composure, his hands gripping you more firmly, pulling you closer to him. The heat between you both surged, and you kissed him back just as eagerly, matching his intensity.

Jay guided you across the bedroom, your bodies moving together in sync. He broke the kiss for just a moment, his breath ragged as he led you toward the full-length mirror at the foot of the bed. As he spun you around, the sudden shift in perspective made your heart flutter. Now, you were facing the mirror, your reflection staring back at you, and Jay stood behind you, holding you close, his chest pressed against your back.

For a moment, you both just stood there, breathing in sync, before Jay’s lips found your shoulder, kissing it softly while his hands slid to your waist, holding you tight as he whispered sweet compliments in your ear. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his lips brushing your skin as he continued to kiss along your neck. “So incredible... everything about you…”

You tried to glance away from the mirror, feeling suddenly self-conscious, but Jay wasn’t having it. His fingers gently but firmly grabbed your jaw, guiding your face back so that your eyes met your reflection once more. You could feel the intensity of his gaze as he held you there, making you face yourself again.

“Look at yourself,” he whispered, “don’t look away.” His words were like a command that made it impossible to do anything but meet your own gaze. His hand remained firm on your jaw, gently guiding you while his other arm stayed wrapped around your waist, holding you securely against him. “You see what I see?” he muttered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his breath warm. “Do you see how beautiful you are?”

Your reflection stared back at you, and though you felt shy under his attention, there was something about the way he held you that made you feel secure. The way his hands moved—one tracing lazy, gentle patterns at your waist while the other stayed steady at your jaw—was grounding.

He dipped his head again, pressing his lips to your neck, just below your ear, lingering there as though savoring the moment. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and his grip on you tightened slightly. “Every part of you,” he whispered, his voice filled with affection, “is perfect.”

You swallowed hard, your breath hitching as you tried to process his words, his touch, and the way his gaze flicked up to meet yours in the mirror.

Jay’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling against your back as his lips trailed along your neck. The delicate lace seemed to have an almost visceral effect on him, his hands roaming your waist and hips. His fingers brushed against the lace, as if he couldn’t stop himself from feeling it again, marveling at the way it clung to your skin.

“This…” he murmured, his voice rough, nearly a growl, as his hand traced the hemline of the fabric. “You have no idea what this is doing to me.” He paused to take a deep, shuddering breath, his lips brushing against your ear. “You look so—God, I can’t even think straight.”

You couldn’t help but let a soft laugh escape you, the sound teasing in its lightness. “You really like lace that much?” you asked playfully, though you knew full well by the way he was reacting.

Jay groaned, his hand tightening slightly at your waist as he pressed a kiss to the curve of your shoulder. “Like is an understatement,” he said, his tone low and almost desperate. His lips hovered near your ear again, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with so much intensity that it made your heart skip a beat. “You have to wear more of it. All the time. For me.”

His bluntness made you smile, and you couldn’t resist teasing him further. “Oh? Are you saying I should go shopping for more lace?” you asked, turning your head slightly to glance at him, your tone light and filled with playful mischief.

Jay groaned again, his head dropping against your shoulder for a moment as if your teasing was physically affecting him. “Don’t play with me,” he muttered, his voice strained. “Do you want me to beg?” His voice was shaky now, his desperation seeping into every word. He pressed another kiss to your neck before continuing, his voice barely above a growl. “Because I will. I’ll beg if that’s what it takes. Just—please, wear more of this, want more of it.”

You couldn’t help the way your smile widened at his reaction, the teasing in your expression making his jaw tighten. “Jay,” you said, feigning an innocent tone, “you’re really going to beg for me to wear more lace?”

His breath hitched, and his hands moved to grip your hips more firmly. “Don’t tempt me,” he warned, though there was no real bite to his words. His forehead pressed against the back of your head for a moment before he groaned once more, almost as if he was fighting to keep control.

“I’ll do it,” he muttered, his voice low but filled with conviction. “If it means I get to see you like this every day, I’ll fill your closet with lace. Every color, every design—you’ll have so much, you’ll never wear anything else.”

You turned slightly, your smile softening as you reached up to touch his cheek, your fingers brushing against his skin. His eyes met yours in the mirror, filled with so much love that it almost overwhelmed you.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that much lace,” you said, but your tone was softer now, playful without being dismissive.

“Try me,” he challenged you, “I’ll prove it. I’ll make it happen. Just say the word.”

Jay would do anything to show you just how much he adored you, and if it meant filling your wardrobe with lace to see you smile—and to indulge his newfound obsession—he would gladly do it, no hesitation.

.....

And he did do it. After that day, it was as though a switch had flipped in Jay. He started bringing home lace in every imaginable color and design—soft pastels, bold blacks, rich jewel tones, delicate florals. Every type he could find was soon tucked away in your closet. It was thoughtful, sweet even, a little peek into how deeply he cared about you. But his reaction every time you wore it? That was something else entirely.

You weren’t used to seeing him like this, so utterly undone, so out of touch with his usual composed demeanor. But you couldn’t deny how much you loved it. You loved the way he folded for you, how a single glimpse of white lace beneath your clothes could derail him completely. Oh, you had him hooked. So much so that every time you wore it, his eyes would darken, his breaths would hitch, and whatever train of thought he had? Gone, like it had never existed.

Lace was his weakness, yes. But lace on you? He was gone—reduced to a pleading man, desperate for just one look, just one touch. And when you finally gave him permission, the transformation was instant. His hands would tremble slightly as they reached for you, his lips brushing reverently over the fabric like it was sacred.

“One more taste,” he’d whisper, his voice rough with need, “and I swear I’ll lose control.”

But the truth? He’d already lost control. The moment his fingers skimmed the lace against your skin, he was a goner. You saw it in the way he looked at you, like nothing else in the world mattered but you in that moment. His touches grew hungrier, his kisses turned sloppy and uncoordinated. And the marks? Oh, you had plenty. They were proof of just how completely he surrendered himself to you, his passion for you spilling over in ways he could hardly contain. Jay never held back when it came to you, and the lace only seemed to amplify that desire.

It wasn’t just about how beautiful you looked in it, though that played a part. No, it was the way you made it look—how effortlessly you wore it, how it became a part of your natural allure. He was mesmerized by you, completely at your mercy, and he didn’t care one bit.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he’d groan, his voice shaky as he traced the edges of the fabric with his fingertips. And maybe you didn’t. Maybe you didn’t realize just how thoroughly you owned him. But every time he dropped to his knees for you, every time he lost himself completely in the feel of you, the sight of you, the essence of you—you were reminded of just how deep his devotion ran.

Jay was yours in every way, and he wasn’t ashamed to show it. Especially when you wore lace.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

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[svetamillss]

Headcanons: Your joint cooking🥞🤍

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Kang Dae Ho x Reader(f), Gang No Eul x Reader(f), Nam Gyu x Reader(f), Le Myung Gi x Reader(f)

A/N: I hope you like it!

🤍🤍🤍

Cho Hyun Ju

You and your girlfriend cook very often, except in the morning, because she always wakes up earlier than you, so she cooks breakfast for yourself and for you.

For you, cooking is like a way to spend your dates. Only there is one but: she is great at cooking, and you... you try, but most often you don't succeed, especially complex dishes. Because of this, you sometimes have arguments, the reason is that Hyun Ju tries to teach you and tells you how to do it right, but you don't like it.

- Hyunnie! Don't tell me! I'm not small! I can do it myself! - you shouted when she told you again that you were cutting vegetables incorrectly.

- Baby, calm down, I just want to help. You cut vegetables coarsely, and you need smaller ones. - she explained, the girl was always calmer than you, so she didn't agree to provocations.

- So, if I don't do it like that, then do everything yourself, I won't interfere! - you threw a knife on the table and were about to leave, but Hyun Ju gently grabbed you, gave you back the knife and also took it, helping you cut correctly.

- Shsh, baby, don't be angry, now we'll do everything together. - she carefully guided your hand and you calmed down, noticing it, she kissed you on the lips.

- I love you, Hyunnie.

- And I love you, baby, and now don't be distracted.

Kang Dae Ho

The guy grew up with four older sisters, who taught him to cook very well. You also knew how to cook well, as you have been fond of it since childhood. Since you both work, the two of you cook only in the evenings and on weekends. While cooking, you joke a lot, bask like two kittens and argue a little, but the guy knows how to calm you down at this moment. He will gently kiss you and you will become like a silky.

- Honey, what do you want for dinner today? - he asks when he finally came back from work, you were always waiting for him, because you didn't want to cooking without him.

- I want chicken for dinner, I even thawed it while I was waiting for you.

- Oh, and I didn't notice her! Then let's start, because I'm hungry. - you can also cook to different music, sometimes dancing in the process.

Fun fact: you have a pair of funny aprons that you bought for your anniversary.

Gang No Eul

Before meeting you, she had never cooked with anyone, she was used to doing everything alone and in silence. Therefore, when you offered to cook dinner together, No Eul did not want to agree, but under your sweet eyes she gave up and in the end you cooked with her. Although the first time it didn't turn out very nice, as the girl often grumbled at you because you bothered her a little, you liked it. We spent time together after all. Your girlfriend also liked it quite well, she didn't even pay attention to the fact that she sometimes swore during the process, she just got used to working alone.

Since she liked it, now she often began to invite you to join the cooking, and you are only happy about it.

- Come with me. - she said briefly, the girl was not a master to talk much. Everything is short and to the point.

- Why? - although you asked, but you still followed her and when you came to the kitchen, everything became clear to you.

- I want to cook dinner for us now, so I want you to help me. - she said with a small smile, you only shone brightly at it.

The evening promised to be very nice.

Nam Gyu

The guy didn't know how to cook at all. Instead, he ordered all kinds of home deliveries or hoped for you, as everything turned out very tasty. But one day he peeped that it was very romantic when a couple cooks together and decided to offer you, you agreed. But it was a mistake.

The guy literally dropped everything out of his hands. You understood that he was not on purpose, but your patience is not rubber. The last straw of yours was that he didn't look the steaks, they burned, very much.

- Oh.. I didn't want to! - he began to justify himself, quickly turning off the stove, you boiled with anger.

- That's it! I eat regular sandwiches, and you eat these steaks yourself! And don't come to me with help during cooking anymore, otherwise you can burn the house. - you replied angrily. The guy really ate these burnt steaks through tears.

Nam Gyu still likes to offer his help to you, but you refuse outright, although sometimes you give him tasks, such as setting the table for dinner, fortunately, he copes well with this work.

Le Myung Gi

You have a great couple. Both don't really like to cook. Your boyfriend suggested not to worry about it and just order food delivery, but you told him that it was very harmful to health and said that both would cook dinner together. He was not sure of the correctness of your decision, but still agreed.

It was hard, a lot of quarrels and screams. In most cases, you shouted when the guy was confused in the little things, and he shouted in response to you, because you are not a chef yourself.

- Well, pancakes will burn! Make the fire smaller!

- Don't shout under my arm! I'm going to ruin everything because of you!

- Ah, because of me! - you wanted to lightly hit him in the shoulder, but changed your mind when you saw that the guy still managed to make a pancake normally.

Still, you need to trust him more and shout less.

🤍🤍🤍

[rafeshit]

babydaddy!rafe x mom!reader

warnings — MDNI kissing, sexual acts, and tensionn :)

summary — you had a bad date and rafe picks you up on his motorcycle and things get tense

—

you sit across from your date, trying to force a smile as he drones on about his job as an accountant. The conversation has been stilted from the start, and you glance at your watch for what feels like the hundredth time. You're desperate to get out of here, but your brother topper is busy at work and you can't call him to rescue you like you normally would and your mother was babysitting baby wren, the child you had 3 months ago.

you have been going out on dates every weekend in hopes of finding a fitting father for wren, but anytime you would bring up your baby girl each guy would make a fatal mistake — they would not even consider or shied away from asking questions about the most important person in your life. Which is this dates mistake, he would only talk about himself and what he’s interested in. you needed to leave.

you quickly dial the number of your brother's best friend and your baby daddy, rafe as your last resort. You've only talked to him a few times since the birth of your baby, and that was much better than the no-contact you had with him during your whole pregnancy. the baby was purely a mistake and after some disagreements you had broken up because of his drug usage.

you were so stubborn with him that he hasn’t met his child since the birth. You knew you were wrong for that but you couldn’t trust him, especially with his drug problem but you would update him about her progress and he would beg to see her — to which you were never ready to do. But nonetheless rafe would prove he was clean by monthly drug tests, and if you were honest with yourself you knew it wasn’t just the drugs that was keeping him from wren. It was because you knew that if you saw your baby in his arms you would want him back.

rafe answers on the first ring, and you pray he can sense the urgency in your voice. "rafe, I need a favor. I'm on a really bad date and I need you to come get me." You try to keep your voice low, because you lied to your date saying you had an urgent call that needed to be answered.

"Yeah, I'm on my way. Where are you?" He quickly says. You tell him the name of the restaurant, trying to keep your eyes from meeting your date's annoyed gaze. You hang up the phone and you can tell your date is getting suspicious, and you don't want to make things worse. You try to make small talk, but it's clear he's not buying it. He's getting angry, and you're getting scared.

You wait, feeling more and more trapped as the minutes tick by. Your date seems to sense your restlessness and starts to get agitated, his voice rising as he complains about how rude you're being. You try to stay calm, but your trapped, and you need Rafe to get here fast. You glance around the restaurant, hoping to see him walk through the door, but he's nowhere to be seen.

Finally, you see Rafe pulling up on his motorcycle through the glass of the restaurant. You breathe a sigh of relief as he walks towards you, his eyes scanning the area searching for you. He's dressed in his usual striped t-shirt and jeans, and he looks like a guardian angel sent to rescue you from this nightmare. He spots you and quickly walks over to you, "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he asks.

You nod quickly, desperate to get out of there. "I'm fine, just want to go." Rafe nods, his eyes never leaving yours as he reaches out to take your arm.

That's when your date decides to intervene. He grabs your shoulder, spinning you around to face him. "Where do you think you're going?" he sneers. You feel a safe as Rafe's nearby, knowing he would protect you.

He shoves the guy off you, his arm coming between you and your date. "Touch her again and I’ll fuck up your face," he spat, getting the guy to back off. You let out a light gasp as Rafe turns to you, he offers a reassuring smile.

"Come on, let's go," he says, his voice softening as he looks at you. You nod as Rafe takes your hand and leads you out of the restaurant. You can hear your date yelling behind you, but you don't look back. You're safe now, thanks to Rafe.

You follow him to the motorcycle and Rafe hands you a helmet, you put it on and climb onto the back of the bike. Rafe gets on in front of you, and you wrap your arms around his waist, feeling the rumble of the engine beneath you.

before you guys speed off rafe utters, “how’s wren while your out here trying to catch some dick she could’ve been with me, learning who her father is.” you sigh, “she’s with her grandma and I was looking for a father not some fix.”

“why look when you have a perfectly good one here.” He says, revving the engine of his motorcycle. As you speed away from the restaurant, you look back and see your date standing alone in the parking lot, his angry face receding into the distance. the wind whipping through your hair and you cling to Rafes chest.

Your hands roam around his torso, feeling the solid muscles beneath his shirt. You're acutely aware of the tension building between you. Rafe's hand brushes against your leg, ever so softly as he used to do when you guys dated. You glance at him, but his eyes are fixed on the road ahead. You can't help but squeeze him tighter, your grip on his chest growing firmer.

The bike turns into a driveway, and you look around, confused. This isn't your place. Rafe kills the engine, and he gets off the bike and approaches you. He takes off his helmet, then reaches out and removes yours, tossing it across the lawn with a carefree grin. he turns to face you. “this isn’t my place, what are you doing?” You asked.

"You can't touch me like that and expect me not to drive to my place," he says, you try to play it cool, but your words come out stuttering. "W-what?" Rafe takes a step closer, "Do you want me?" he asks. You try to say the right thing, but your mind goes blank.

"We shouldn't..." you trail off, knowing it's a weak excuse. Rafe inches closer, "That's not what I asked. Do you want me?" He says again. You try to deny it, to push him away, but your body betrays you. You nod, barely perceptible, and the word escapes your lips in a whisper. "Yes."

he take no time to lean in, his lips claiming yours in a sensual kiss. Your lips do not break apart as you he walks backwards towards the door of his house, fiddling with the doorknob until he manage to open it. He continues backing up, all the way to the couch in the living room. Your kisses are quick and intense as he tosses off his shirt.

He throws you on his lap and starts biting your lip in between kisses in the more pleasant way possible. His hands, roam from your neck to your back and then to your butt, which he squeezes with intensity.

You begin to grind against him, his hard on rubbing against your clit was only making it better. He tosses you onto the plush cushions beside you and slips off the couch angling his face in between your legs, he slides your lace underwear to the side and begins piping his fingers into you, in which you let out soft moans, taking in the feeling.

He uses his free hand to unzip his pants and begin stroking his dick at the same pace he's pumping his fingers into you. He beings to work his fingers faster and his tongue went to your clit, swirling at a prominent pace, matching the speed with how he is stroking his dick.

Your hands clutch his hair, gripping it with vice. His fingers begin to hit your cervix and your one pump away from comeing. Finally you feel the band in your stomach snap and body begins to shake. He gets up, pushing the tip of his dick into your cunt to come, his hands jerking the rest of his dick off as he pumps his warm come into you, painting your walls white.

Finally he comes to a stop and plops down on the couch next to you, zipping up his pants. "God, that felt so good, I’ve missed you so much." He breathes. You're still catching you breath when suddenly the door knob starts to fiddle and rafe quickly throws on his T-shirt and you slip your underwear to its appropriate place. The door opens and in walks your brother, topper. "Oh! Hey sis what are you doing here?" He asks, holding bags of Chinese food.

You stutter, "had a bad date and rafe picked me up." You innocently smile.

"Yeah we were just sitting here, chattin’" Rafe smiles. “I think we’ve came to an agreement that wren will be in my life a lot more.” he says looking to you for approval, you nod, thinking that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“im glad you two worked things out.” Topper places the Chinese food on the table and claps his hands together, "well who wants to eat!?" You look to rafe and he nods, and three of you enjoy egg rolls and rice.

this made me hungry ngl 🥲

[logoleptic-since-06]

Everything Has Changed

Pairing: Choso Kamo x Fem!Reader Content: Fem!Reader, Choso and Reader are 19-20, Angst, Profanity, Smut, Degradation/Humiliation, Handjob, Fingering, Oral (F!Receiveing), First Time, Dacryphilia (If You Squint), Not Proofread

<- Prev Part 5 Next ->

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

As Choso helps you put your shelf back up, he can’t help but notice how quiet you have gotten around him– something you never were. He misses your cheeky grin, your hearty laugh, your random rambles. His heart twists at the sight of your cold eyes that hold nothing but void as you look at him.

Breaking the silence, you speak, “Why did you do that?”

He knows what you mean, yet he asks, “Did what?”

“Not believe me when I told you Asami wasn’t a nice person?”

“I was dumb,” he confesses. “That was the first time I had been getting so much attention– or rather any attention at all.” You walk closer to him as he speaks, your eyes growing icier with every word he says and every step you take.

“I’m sorry,” he says finally as you stand merely inches away from him.

Your voice hums low as you speak. “You’re so fucking pathetic.” Your sultry voice seeps into his blood as he feels it flow down between his legs.

Talk about bad timing.

“I know,” is all he can manage with his shaky voice.

“What’s wrong, hm? You’re all flustered.”

“N-nothing,” he says, toppling over the bed, that is soon followed by you plopping yourself beside him. Much to his dismay, your glance lands between his legs and is greeted by the huge bulge in his pants. At the sight, you can’t help but let out a demeaning laugh.

“Look at that,” you say in between your chuckles as you move your face closer to his. “Is it turning you on, sweetie? Being called pathetic?”

He gazes into your eyes, inhaling deeply.

That’s all you needed to know.

You slide your hand along his inner thigh. Reaching between his legs, you ask, “You like this?”

He nods frantically, wordless. You rub his shaft through his pants, making his breath hitch. “Y/N…”

“Hmm? You want to get rid of these?” you coo as you hook a finger into his waistband. He lifts his hips up and you pull his trousers down, revealing his boxers soaked in precum. “Look at that… what got you so worked up?”

“Please…” he croaks out. Without missing a beat, you pull his boxers down as his hard cock springs out, red with sensitivity. You take it in your hand, the first time you’ve done it– not that he has to be aware of it. It is bigger than you expected. Your touch makes him quiver, almost as though–

“Is this the first time someone touched you?” you ask with genuine curiosity, your hand rubbing along his shaft. He is too breathless to answer, he babbles incoherent sounds instead.

You let out another laugh, stripping him away of any little dignity he had left. “Who sounds fucked out now, huh?” You fist his cock faster, making him arch his back. “Did she really never touch you? Aww you poor thing.”

He lets out a throaty grunt. “Ngh, faster…”

Obliging his words, you tell him, “You really have no shame at all, huh? Getting fucked by the hands of someone degrading you like that?”

He cries out, whether it is in pain or pleasure or both, you can’t tell. With that last cry, he cums all over your palm.

He lays on your bed, panting from the high, soaking in the humiliation, and ignoring your gaze on him. He is glad you are quiet for now, though he will be lying if he says your words didn’t turn him on to the greatest. Once the high dies down, he gets up and puts his pants back on.

You only break the silence after he’s done. “Was that really your first time?”

He decides to not answer. Instead, he says, “I should get going.”

“Right.”

As he steps out of your dorm, he can’t help the thoughts that race in his head. This was clearly a mistake, a moment of weakness. It was indeed the first time someone has touched him so intimately, as Asami had refused to do so, and he still doesn’t know why. Never has he felt so degraded yet satisfied. He wonders if it was your first time being in this position with someone, which makes him realise that–

He is the only one that finished.

Choso may not have been experienced in these, but if there’s one thing he knows, it’s to never leave a woman unsatisfied, and especially not when he had the best orgasm of his life.

He goes back into your dorm.

When you look at him, your eyes widen in surprise. “Choso, what are you–”

He interrupts you by crashing his lips against yours, and you reciprocate with full force. It is your time to stumble onto your bed now, and his to hover over you. He trails his kisses down to your jaw, neck, and then your chest.

“Choso…” you pant.

“Hmm?” is all he says as he brings his kisses down to your hips. Curling his fingers around your waistband, he looks up at you. “May I?”

“Yes.”

He pulls down your sweatpants, revealing your uncovered pussy. You never bother wearing underwear indoors anyways. His breath hitches at the sight. Spreading your legs further apart, he touches your glistening opening. You sigh in response. His fingers work on the outer folds before he spreads your lips, revealing your now engorged clit.

Choso brings his mouth closer and begins to suck on your clit, making you moan out loud. He laps at your cunt as though it is the one meal he has been waiting to try for ages, and perhaps he has.

You arch your back when you feel two fingers enter your pussy, hitting your g-spot while his tongue focuses on your clit. It is the most pleasure you have felt in your life. Your eyes roll back and you feel as though you are going to explode when your orgasm comes crashing in and you cum all over his face. 

He slows down with his tongue but keeps his fingers inside as you ride out your orgasm. You find yourself panting from the high when you realise this was probably the stupidest thing you could’ve done.

You sit up straight, adjusting your clothes. When you look at him, you look for any sign of smugness, but you fail to find any. Despite that, you simply say, “You can leave now.”

“Y/N–”

“It’s okay, we both know what we did is wrong. It’s better if we never speak of it again.”

There is a pause before he says, “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

[revelboo]

I am begging for more clumsy heart crumbs 🙏

Sure!

Clumsy Heart Pt 6

Soundwave x Reader, Shockwave x Reader

• Your shoulder is dislocated. You’re sure of it even before Shockwave runs the scanner over you, stares at the screen then shows it to Soundwave. And then they’re both just staring at you and you realize neither of them have a clue what to do. And the only thing you know is that the joint has to be forced back into place, right? Except touching it is agony, and you don’t want to do it. But you don’t want them doing it either. And they’re still just staring down at you. Like they’re waiting on you to tell them what to do and defeated, because you can’t do it yourself, you gesture with your good hand. “Can one of you gently help get my shoulder joint back in the socket. Gently?” Watching the two giants exchange a look that isn’t at all reassuring, you wait.

• Fear and pain. Your emotions prickle over him with nervous anxiety and he knows touching you is going to make it worse. Shockwave continuously making his life more difficult without meaning to because he can’t understand. Like you. Bringing you here thinking you’d make things better. Make him happy. All because he hadn’t been able to understand his grief. Those emotions stripped away during empurata along with his memories. Leaving this shell behind. And while he’s staring down at you, not wanting to handle you, Shockwave reaches for you with his one hand, servos wrapping around you as you inhale sharply and his thumb pushes down until you yelp.

• Fragile flesh and bone shifts under his servos as he feels the pop and then you’re doubling over his servos, making noises you’re trying to muffle with a fist and you’re leaking again. He’d done what you’d asked, but you’re still upset. Uncurling his servos from around you, he expects you to scurry away from him. Not to curl an arm around one servo, still making that pained sound. And he can’t move, antennae back as that sound shivers through him. Muffling a scream. They’d muffled his. Someone had. Hadn’t they? Is that his memory?

• Biting into the side of your fist and screaming swear words, you breathe through it. Because forcing it back into place had somehow felt worse than when it dislocated in the first place. He’d not warned you or anything, just did it. Damn, aliens. “Fixed,” Shockwave growls with a shudder, hand tipping as you glare up at him, eyes watering and you slide out of his palm as he dumps you, your fingers still stinging with pins and needles. Jerk.

• Watching you gingerly touch your shoulder, then shiver, Soundwave rubs his helm. Trying to figure out what to do with you, how to explain to Shockwave why bringing you here was a mistake. But if they just let you go, you might give away the Nemesis. And if he doesn’t watch over you, Shockwave is likely to try and ‘fix’ you. He’s seen the scientist’s attempts to fix organic life and the results have been… unsettling. Doesn’t really want a human to deal with, but can’t condemn you to being a test subject to satisfy Shockwave’s curiosity either. And there was the way Shockwave had stopped him from lulling you, the edge that had been in his voice had been accompanied by emotion. An emotion that had supposedly been stripped away. Had handling you somehow triggered a memory? A fragment of the mech he remembers surfacing? Is Senator Shockwave locked away somewhere in there still?

Previous

[songbirdreaped]

a soft sigh of relief escaped her lips as coriolanus told her that he found her better than billy taupe. it wasn't difficult to be better, but typically, especially when they were dating, lucy gray was lumped in with billy taupe. if he'd done something wrong, they both did something wrong. it was frustrating. ❝ my dad would have been tough on you at first, but i think he'd also warm up to you. he wanted what's best for me when he was alive. ❞ she told him, giving a half-smile. lucy gray missed her family a great deal, often wondering if they would be proud of the person she was now. she felt as if all she'd done as of late was make mistake after mistake. it was difficult, but now she may have been on the right path being with coriolanus. he actually had a direction in life he wanted to go. ❝ though if you ever meet maude ivory, she is hard to win over. she'll ask you a million questions to make sure you're good enough for me. ❞

❝ but don't worry, i will only use my charm on you, i'm not like that two-timing greasy taupe, ❞ lucy gray informed him, voice sweet like honey as she nudged his foot again after feeling his nudge hers. though the two were from different statuses, the brunette felt she could be herself around coriolanus. maybe that came from the fact that they hadn't liked one another before this-- or, at least that's how it had appeared, but she truly did think she could just let loose. she hoped he felt the same way around her, that he could also be himself in ways he didn't think he could be with others. ❝ i wish that you'd had the chance to meet my momma. she would have loved you, ❞ she admitted in a small voice. her mother had been friends with billy taupe's parents, so she knew billy taupe well. lucy gray was sure though that her mom would love coriolanus if she got to meet him.

[yeahthisisabadidea]

Twin Ghost Kings

An idea I got into my head, I've seen a few tropes where Danny and Dani are twins, two sides of a coin, the king and the free spirit sort of idea. so what if, both Dani and Danny become the ghost king?

I can just imagine some poor smuck (cult? the Justice Leauge? someone from another fandom?) decides to summon "the ghost king" for whatever reason, so solve XYZ or to grant them world dominating power, whatever, and they're expecting a single, monsterous, tyranical being Pariah Dark, but in stead, they get these two black and white child-ghosts (they're not acctually children, it's been centuries, but it's fun to be OP while being underestimated and messing with people)

This wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote a bit of it, so...

The boy’s eyes roamed over the heroes, down to the circle and then made eye contact with John.

“Dani?” he asked, tone echoing and childish but oh, so dangerous. The hair on the back of John's neck stood on end. The girl similarly looked directly at John, acid green eyes boring into him. The feeling doubled down.

“Yes, Danny?”

“I think we’ve been summoned.”

The two smiled twin grins. It was sharp and mischievous and unnerving with too many teeth, too wide for their faces. As they continued to speak, the two began to float around as easily and aimlessly as leaves in a breeze, circling the heroes like predators evaluating their next kill. John certainly felt like prey.

“I think you’re right.”

“Someone tried to call Pariah.”

“Someone called the ghost king.”

“Someone wants the dark.”

“Someone made a mistake…”

“Ying yang spirits,” John muttered. The two children continued to circle each other in a dizing display of black and white and green eyes that hold too much power.

“Nope,” the girl giggled, popping the p.

“Close, but no.” Confirmed the boy in a sing-song voice, his impish smile only growing sharper. 

“Then wha– who are you?”

The spirits stopped their flying to drop to the ground in front of Constantine, their wispy tails splitting and solidifying into sets of legs so they could stand and stare with those green eyes at the man.

“We are the ghost king,” the boy said simply, voice teeming with power that made John’s ears hurt. The girl continued.

“Heirs apparent of the infinite realms and all that call it home.”

“And you have dared to summon us.”

“I don’t understand,” John had to try twice before his voice was loud enough to be heard. “I thought I called The King... Pariah Dark?"

"We told you."

"We are the king."

“I am the king phantom,” declared the boy. “Watcher of stars, bane of the dark. I am the guardian, the keep, the order. I am the light of the moons.”

“I am the king phantasm,” declared the girl. “Who followed after and seen all first. I am the wanderer, the wild, the chaos. I am the void between.”

“You demanded the Ghost King.”

“You called to the Dark.”

“So, tell us, Hellblazer,” the girl mused, grin sharp and wicked as she circled him, pausing to leer over his shoulder. “Who are you loyal to?”

“The crown?”

“Or the dark?”

“Be honest now.”

“We’ll know if you lie.”

“We can see your soul.”

“We own most of it, after all.”

[insidekatmind]

Consolation-Virgil Van Dijk

wearning: +18,smut.

Request: yes!

It’s late in the evening, and you’re comfortably seated on your couch, wrapped in a blanket with a cup of hot tea in your hands. You watched the match on TV: a tough loss, with mistakes rarely seen from such a strong team. You know Virgil is the type to carry everything on his shoulders, and you can’t stop thinking about how he might be feeling right now.

A knock at the door pulls you from your thoughts. You’re not expecting anyone, but when you open the door, there’s Virgil, standing in front of you. He’s still in his tracksuit, hood pulled up like he’s trying to hide from the world. His face, though, gives him away: it’s marked by exhaustion and frustration.

“Can I come in?” he asks in a quiet voice.

“Virgil, of course, come in,” you reply, stepping aside to let him in. You close the door behind him and watch as he pulls down his hood, revealing a tense expression and eyes that avoid meeting yours.

“Sorry for showing up so late,” he says, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you say, guiding him to the couch. “You know you’re always welcome here. Do you want something? Tea, coffee…?”

He shakes his head, sinking heavily onto the couch. “No, thanks. I don’t think I could get anything down right now.”

You sit beside him, giving him space to speak. You know Virgil isn’t the type to open up immediately, but it’s clear he’s wrestling with something big. After a long silence, he finally breaks it.

“It was my fault, y/N,” he says, staring at the floor. “That missed marking… that goal… I can’t stop thinking about it. I let the team down, the fans… everyone.”

“Virgil, listen,” you begin gently, “one lost match doesn’t define who you are—either as a leader or as a player. You’re one of the best in the world, and you know that. But even the best have off nights.”

“It’s not just that,” he counters, clenching his fists on his knees. “I’m supposed to be the anchor, the one everyone else can rely on. And instead… instead, I feel like I’m sinking. It’s frustrating, y/N. I don’t know how to pull myself out of this.”

You look at him, choosing your words carefully. “Virgil, being a leader doesn’t mean never making mistakes. It means showing others how to handle those mistakes. Your team doesn’t need you to be perfect. They need you to be human, to fight to get better.”

He lifts his gaze, finally meeting your eyes. “But it’s so hard… I feel like I’m letting everyone down, and it’s eating me up inside.”

You lean in slightly, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “What really matters is how you respond to this feeling. No one can be perfect, Virgil, but you’ve already shown you can overcome challenges. This is just another one, and I know you’ll get through it.”

Virgil remains silent for a moment, then nods slowly. “Maybe you’re right,” he says with a small sigh. “I need to stop focusing only on what went wrong and think about what I can do to improve. But… it’s easier said than done.”

“That’s why I’m here,” you reply with a reassuring smile. “You don’t have to face this alone. Whatever you need, you know you can count on me.”

He offers a faint smile, the first you’ve seen since he arrived. “Thanks, y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Virgil gently takes your wrist and pulls you to straddle him.You stumble slightly as he pulls you onto him, your thighs resting beside his lap. You look down at him, your heart beating faster now. He looks up at you with an intensity in his eyes that you’ve seldom seen before. He keeps your wrist in his grasp, his fingers wrapped around it almost tenderly, yet with a hint of desire.

You can feel the warmth of his body against yours as he pulls you closer, his free hand coming to rest on your thigh. He watches you silently, his eyes roaming over your face. You take a breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “Virgil…?” you murmur, questioning, uncertain about the situation unfolding.

He doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze holding you captive. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, something you rarely see from the normally strong and confident man. His thumb begins tracing slow circles over your thigh, the touch sending shivers up your spine. After what feels like an eternity, he finally speaks, his voice low and a bit hoarse. “I needed this,” he whispers, his hand on your wrist squeezing gently.

You nod softly, hugging him, stroking his hair.Virgil returns your embrace, his arms encircling you, pulling you flush against him. His head dips slightly, his face burying into your chest, his breath warm against your skin. For a moment, he just holds you, his heart beating against your chest, his fingers tracing light patterns over your back.

This tender version of Virgil, all vulnerability and gentleness, melts your heart. You run your fingers through his hair, your touch soft and soothing. You can feel the tension in him slowly start to ease away as he clings to you, seeking comfort in your presence.

After some time, he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes are closed, and he looks weary, but his expression is less troubled than it was when he arrived. “Y/N…” he begins softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how you do it, but being here with you… it helps. Even on nights like tonight.”

"Do you want to spend the night here?" You ask softly, caressing his cheeks.He looks at you for a moment, his gaze searching your face as if to gauge whether you truly mean your offer. Then, a small nod of his head answers your question. "Please," he murmurs, his hand on your thigh squeezing again. "I don't want to be alone tonight."

You nod and kiss his forehead softly, then his nose, and then his cheeks.He watches you intently as you press soft kisses to his forehead, his nose, and his cheeks. A soft sigh escapes his lips, his eyes never leaving your face. His grip on your thigh tightens slightly, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he let go for even a moment. Each kiss seems to soothe him further, the stress lines around his eyes smoothing out.

The silence in the room feels heavy yet peaceful at the same time. The only sound is your soft breathing and the occasional sigh from him as you continue to pepper his face with gentle kisses. He lifts his hand from your thigh, his fingers tracing your jawline tenderly, before his thumb brushes across your bottom lip. He seems to have calmed down completely now, all the earlier turmoil replaced by a quiet vulnerability.

"Y/N..." he murmurs again, his voice barely above a whisper, "I..." He trails off, his eyes filled with an emotion you can't quite name. He looks like he wants to say something important, but the right words don't seem to come. The atmosphere in the room is thick with unspoken words and untold feelings.

You can sense that there's more he wants to say, more that he's feeling, but it's like a dam holding back a flood of emotions. His hand, still on your jaw, moves to cup the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer. His eyes seem to be searching your face for something, a silent question in the depths of their blue.

The closeness between you is almost tangible now. You're so close that you can feel his breath against your skin, his body against yours. The air feels charged with unspoken tension, the space between you filled with a heady mixture of desire and something else, something deeper and more complex. He keeps touching you, his fingertips tracing over your skin as if he's committing you to memory.

Finally, he speaks again, breaking the silence that hangs between you. His voice is deeper than usual, and raw with emotion. "I need you," he murmurs, his fingers splaying against the nape of your neck. "More than I need anything right now... I just... I need you."

You nod and kiss him softly.As your lips meet his, he responds almost instantly, pressing against you with a hunger that you haven't felt from him before. He pulls you closer, his fingers tangling in your hair. The kiss deepens, his tongue brushing against your lips, seeking entry. He kisses you like a drowning man gasping for air, as if he's pouring all his unspoken feelings into that one action.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you even closer. You feel the heat of his body against yours, the strength of his embrace. There's an urgency in his kiss, a desperate need he's trying to convey. His hands roam over your body, touching, caressing, as if he's trying to assure himself that you're really there, really with him.

He breaks the kiss, just for a moment, to look at you. His eyes are darker than before, filled with a storm of emotions. He's breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Y/N..." he whispers, his voice hoarse and raw with desire. "Stay with me tonight. Please... just stay."There's a vulnerability in his plea that cuts right to your heart. He needs you, not just now, but deeper, more permanently. He isn't just asking for comfort or physical connection; he's asking for something more substantial, a lifeline to hold onto amidst his storm of insecurities and fears.

You nod, your heart overflowing with affection for this man, who stands so strong in the face of the world, yet crumbles when alone. "I'll stay," you assure him, your voice soft but firm. "As long as you need me to, I'm not going anywhere."

You kiss him with more passion.The passion in your kiss stokes the fire that's been steadily building between you. He reacts instantly, the kiss becoming more intense, more desperate. He pulls you flush against him, his hands roaming over your body, seeking skin to touch, flesh to touch.There's a hunger in the way he kisses you, an intensity that borders on frantic. His tongue tangles with yours, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you even closer.

You gently pulled away to take off your shirt and then reattached your lips to his.His eyes follow your movements as you lift your shirt over your head, baring your skin to him. For a moment he just stares, his eyes raking over your exposed flesh, his gaze hungry and appreciative.As you return to his lips, he responds with a deep, guttural moan. His hands go to your waist, sliding over your bare skin, pulling you flush against him. He kisses you more fiercely now, his tongue delving deeper, his body pressing harder against yours.

He gently laid you down on the couch and took off the rest of your clothes and undressed himself too.As he moves over you, his naked body pressed against yours, you can feel the heat coming off him, his skin hot and smooth. He looks down at you, his eyes dark and heavy with desire. His hands rest on either side of your head, bracing his weight on strong arms, trapping you beneath him.

As he moves over you, his naked body pressed against yours, you can feel the heat coming off him, his skin hot and smooth. He looks down at you, his eyes dark and heavy with desire. His hands rest on either side of your head, bracing his weight on strong arms, trapping you beneath him.

In one sharp thrust he entered you making both of you moan into the kiss.You arch against him as he fills you, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. He moans into the kiss, his body shaking with restrained desire. He stays still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, his hands clenching the fabric of the couch on either side of your head.

“Babe, you're squeezing my cock so good,” he murmurs, moaning, and begins to move quickly. His thrusts were not gentle at all. You could feel inch by inch going in and out.He mouths at your neck, his lips tracing a path from jawline to collarbone. His breath is hot against your skin, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, holding you steady as he sets the pace.

You moan feeling his thrusts getting harder and harder. "Virgil I'm close" you murmur nibbling his neck."I know," he rasps, his voice strained with the effort it's taking to hold back. "Just... hold on a bit longer, please..." His body is tense above you, muscles taut as he tries to maintain his control, not wanting this to end too soon.

He picks up the pace suddenly, his thrusts becoming faster, more urgent. His lips are back at your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "I can't hold back much longer," he mutters, his words barely decipherable between the gasps and moans.

You can feel the edge approaching, your body trembling, your hands clawing at his back, seeking an anchor in this storm of sensations. "Virgil, I..." you start to say, but your words fade into a guttural moan as he hits a sensitive spot.

"I know," he gasps, his voice hoarse. "Me too." He's struggling to hold back, the need to let go warring with his desire to prolong this moment. His hips pound against yours, his fingers gripping your hips almost to the point of pain, holding you steady as he reaches the limit

"I need..." he moans, the word hanging in the air, half-formulated. He doesn't know what he needs; only that he wants more, more of you, more of this, more of the pleasure that's threatening to consume him altogether.

He pulls out of you and then turns you on all fours and enters you again.He's behind you suddenly, his body pressed against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist. His breath is hot on your neck, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He waits for a moment, letting you adjust to the new position, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your ear.

“fuck” you moan feeling his thrusts get even harder. Virgil grabs a lock of your hair and pulls it making you arch and moan.

"Yeah?" He asks, his voice rough and low, the sound sending shivers down your spine. His grip on your hair is tight, his hand keeping your head tilted back, exposing the vulnerable line of your neck. “You like that, huh?”

“yes” you moan resting your head on his shoulders as Virgil continued to thrust harder. "very much".He chuckles breathlessly, the sound more a exhalation than a laugh. "I thought you would," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "You make the best sounds when I pull your hair like this."

You moan feeling his thrusts get stronger. One push in particular had you bent back onto the couch.He follows the motion, the force of his thrust pressing you down into the couch. Your body is arched, your back bowing under the combined weight of his body and the intensity of his movements. You can hear him panting, his breath hot against your neck, his hands roaming over your flesh, seeking to draw out more.

"God, you look beautiful like this," he mutters, his voice rough and gravelly with desire. "Bent over for me like this."Virgil slaps your ass and goes faster.

His hands are everywhere, roaming freely over your flesh, seeking to touch every inch of you. His lips are back on your throat, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of little bite marks in their wake.

“Virgil” you scream loudly moaning.He groans against your neck, your cry of pleasure going straight to his stomach. "Yeah," he mutters, his voice hoarse and raw. "Say my name again. I love hearing you say my name like that."

He moves faster, his hips slamming into you with every stroke, his pace picking up steadily. "Again," he gasps, his teeth scraping against the sensitive skin of your shoulder. "Say my name."

“Virgil” you moan again.He shudders behind you, the sound of his name on your lips sending a jolt through him. "Again," he demands, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he moves faster. "Say it again. I want to hear you."

You repeat his name, the word becoming a litany, a prayer on your lips as you're pushed closer and closer to the edge. His grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh as he urges you on.

“That’s it," he growls, his voice hoarse. "Just like that. You’re so close, I can tell. I can feel it. Come on, say my name again. Let me hear you say it one more time."His words are like a drug, driving you higher, higher until you feel like you’re going to burst. You repeat his name again, the syllables almost lost in the litany of moans and gasps that fill the air.

as you fall over the edge, your body spasming around him, a cry of pleasure torn from your throat. Behind you he groans, the sound guttural and primal. He follows you over the edge, his body trembling against yours as he comes, your name falling from his lips in a shuddering gasp. For a moment there's only the sound of labored breathing, the aftermath of pleasure leaving you both boneless and weary. He gathers you in his arms, pulling you down with him as he collapses back onto the couch, holding you close against his chest.

"That was..." he starts, his voice thick with emotion. He trails off, unable to articulate the maelstrom of feelings coursing through him. "That was... incredible."

You nod, your legs shaking with pleasure. You rest on his chest as you recover from your climax.He holds you against him, his strong arms encircling you like a protective cocoon. He drops a kiss on the top of your head, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "You okay?" he asks quietly, the concern in his voice belied by the possessive way he's holding onto you.

You nod again, not quite trusting yourself to speak yet. Your body is still quivering with aftershocks, your mind a delightful buzz. You nuzzle against his chest, inhaling the scent of him, letting his presence ground you.

He responds instinctively, his hold on you tightening almost reflexively, as if afraid you might disappear if he lets go. "Good," he murmurs, the relief in his voice palpable. "I was worried I might've been too... rough."

"No," you find your voice at last, though it comes out as a gravelly whisper rather than your usual tone. "It was... perfect. I don't think I can move."Virgil chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Not surprised," he says, the pride in his voice evident. "I kinda went a bit... uh... overboard, huh?"

You give a weak nod, still feeling like your bones have turned to jello. "Just a bit," you manage to reply, a hint of a laugh in your voice.He tightens his hold on you just a fraction more, a possessive gesture that you don't mind at all. "Well, I'm not sorry," he says, sounding very much unapologetic. "You were making the most delightful sounds. Couldn't help myself."

"I have no complaints," you murmur, your eyes drifting closed. You can feel his heart beating under your cheek, the steady thump-thump like a soothing lullaby. You're tired, boneless, satisfied to the point of exhaustion, and very much not ready to move yet.

He seems to sense this and relaxes under you, his hand continuing that soothing motion on your back. "Get some rest," he whispers, his voice low and soothing. He doesn't seem in any hurry to move either, his body warm and solid beneath you.

You hum a wordless assent, already drifting towards sleep. The steady rhythm of his breathing, the reassuring presence of his body, the exhaustion of your recent activities all combining to pull you inexorably into unconsciousness."Sweet dreams," he murmurs, his voice a quiet whisper. You feel a soft kiss on the top of your head, his lips gentle and tender against your hair.

You murmur something inarticulate, too far gone to form actual words. The last thing you feel before sleep claims you is the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear, a soothing thrum that lulls you into darkness.

[grandline-fics]

Hello! I just found your blog and I am reading everything that you have (while working🤐)

I have to say I am in love with your writing. You are amazing, can't put the phone down.

I would love to be in the tag list for everything that you will write in the future.

Also if you don't mind can I ask for the Promp "Conforting Kisses" where the reader had a nightmare of the getting badly hurt and they give them kisses to forget maybe?

If you can do it for Luffy, Ace and Shanks I will be thankful for ever. If you don't want to write it is okey💕

Hope you have a great day! 💕

Thank you again for writing💕💖

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Comforting Kisses

WARNINGS:  descriptions of injury, mentions of death. slight angst. hurt to comfort

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Shanks

WORDS: 1,340

A/N: Thank you so much for your support and this request! I made a mistake and mis-read it to think you wanted the reader to do the comforting. I also only managed to get something for Luffy and Shanks for this but I hope this is still to your liking and you enjoy how it turned out.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

LUFFY

He was so much stronger than he had been when you first met and joined him on the crew. Luffy had spent two years under Rayleigh’s instruction to ensure he’d never lose anyone else close to him again. So now why was he staring in horror, completely helpless and unable to intervene as you were overwhelmed by multiple heavy hitting opponents he’d defeated in the past. Each one got hit after hit on you, ignoring Luffy’s yells for them to leave you alone. As strong as a fighter as you were normally you were no match against these monsters striking all at once. You didn’t even seem to notice Luffy as he screamed and struggled to get to you. The Captain could only watch as your attackers fell back into shadows while you fell to your knees as a wave of Magellan’s poison and Akainu’s magma came crashing over you.

Luffy awoke with a shuddering gasp, limbs locked tightly and body trembling as the cold sweat broke over his skin. With every rapid breath he took, the images he’d just detached himself from flashed in his mind in the dark. Every desperate gulp of air just brought more of a panic, drawing him back to the darkest, lowest point in his life when he’d realised he was weak and couldn’t save his brother. What would he do if he lost you? Before a new panic could set in, he caught the sound of soft footsteps approaching. Immediately he was out of bed and approaching the door, opening it before you could even knock. “Oh, couldn’t sleep either Lu-”

Before you could finish your question, Luffy had his arms out like a shot and pulled you against him. Laying his head against your chest the sound of your heartbeat finally began to ground him, rooting him in reality and not the horrible nightmare that still clung to him. You’d initially tensed at the hug Luffy drew you into, not because of it being unexpected-it wasn’t given how affectionate he was with everyone-but because of how timid he seemed. This wasn’t a usual Luffy hug, filled with warmth and happiness. As you wrapped your arms around his shoulders you could feel the tremor in his frame and took note of how every so often his arms would try to pull you closer. Angling one hand you settled your finger’s against the back of his head, moving in gentle motions to help him relax from whatever nightmare he’d clearly had. 

Lightly you pressed a kiss against the top of Luffy’s head, a small smile tugging at your lips when Luffy slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze. It was reassuring to see he seemed more himself albeit still a little shaken. “Can you do that again? Felt nice.”

“Sure.” Leaning forward you pressed a longer but just as gentle kiss against his forehead, your smile growing to hear and feel Luffy’s body relax from the comforting action. You pulled back to watch him carefully. “Ready to go back to bed? I can stay with you if it helps.”

Unsurprisingly Luffy’s gaze hardened at the suggestion. He was tired, he wasn’t going to lie but at the same time he hesitated. The last thing he wanted was to have that nightmare all over against your offer of staying helped him greatly. 

Together you moved back into Luffy’s room and lay down in the bed. Taking naps with Luffy was never anything new but since starting a relationship with him this was the first time you were going to spend the night in his bed. As much as you didn't like the circumstances that led to this but you couldn’t deny how right it felt to lie in Luffy’s arms, pressing comforting kisses against his head as he fell asleep to keep his nightmares away. 

SHANKS

Shanks knew this image well. Loguetown’s town square filled to the brim of people, their heads turned towards the towering execution block and awaiting the procession to appear on the top podium. Overhead thick grey clouds quickly swept in and darkened the clear morning, rain falling heavily as the winds began to shriek. Shanks lifted his arm to shield his eyes, his gaze firmly on the Marines who appeared. Your name was shouted out for the audience to hear and immediately Shanks’ body froze when the two Marines stepped aside and you were roughly shoved onto your knees. 

Your body looked so frail and small on top of the execution block. Even from where he stood he could see the bruises and cuts against your body as you knelt, hands held firmly by the heavy iron shackles and chains. Shanks quickly began to push through the crowd, trying to get to you but for every person he moved out of his way more replaced them. No, this couldn’t be happening. While the two Marines drew their weapons in preparation of what was to come, another stepped forward to begin calling out the charges. 

“You have been found guilty for aiding and abetting, harbouring, and consorting with known Pirate Emperor Red Hair Shanks on multiple accounts spanning years. For this clear defection of the World Government’s rule and repeated alliance with dangerous criminals we can only treat you as a pirate and deem only one punishment is suitable; death.” Over the pelting rain and thunder, Shank’s yell for you was swallowed and you defeatedly hung your head. Your eyes slid closed as you waiting the swinging of the blades, arcing straight for you. 

Shanks woke sharply, a deep pit of ice twisting painfully in his stomach as his heart thundered loudly in his ears. It was so incredibly rare for Shanks to feel powerless or weak, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a nightmare and any that came to mind paled in comparison to what he’d just seen. He’d never allow any harm to come to you, in all the years he’d known you and loved you he’d made sure the Marines and any pirate rivals he had knew nothing about you. Glancing down he saw you sleeping peacefully against his chest. Logic told him you were fine, you were safe. He could feel your warmth and feel your soft breath against his skin but still it couldn’t replace the images of your beaten body about to be put to death. 

Knowing it was irrational and stupid, he couldn’t help himself. Lightly he spoke your name and gently shook your shoulder. Immediately you stirred, a hum of sleep thickened confusion breaking from your lips. Shifting so you were on your stomach you blinked through the haze and looked to Shanks in sleepy concern, knowing he’d never wake you unless it was necessary. “Shanks? What’s wrong?”

“Sorry love, really I am.” Shanks explained softly, letting his fingers gently move in soothing patterns against your skin. Seeing you awake and hearing your voice already doing wonders to dispel the hurt his subconsciousness had created. “Had a bad nightmare. Just needed you.”

Immediately your gaze sharpened enough and you nodded in understanding. It wasn’t often but anytime you had a nightmare and Shanks was there he’d wake and be there with you until you’d calmed. Now it was your turn. 

Slowly you pulled yourself up and inched closer. With a feather-light touch you pushed the stray strands of red hair from his face before caressing his jaw. Leaning in you pressed sweet, caring kisses against his face. You started at his eyes, paying close attention to his scars before moving to his temple, then the bridge of his nose, his cheeks before finally settling your lips against Shanks’ pulling him into a deep, tender kiss, clearing the remnants of his nightmare away. Breaking apart you lay your forehead against Shanks’, smiling when he lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing your wrist, a clear sign he was becoming more like his usual self. “When the crew and I leave this time, you want to come with me?”

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya ,  @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut , @irumawife , @laidenbreecatchall

[albondiguilla007]

Drarry as Hogwarts Professors

✨ Finely Drawn Lines / 61k / Draco doesn't consider himself an artist (though the dozens of sketchbooks lining his shelves might suggest differently). Yet ever since Potter returned to Hogwarts, accepting a teaching position alongside Draco, his drawings have taken on a rather singular focus. From the curl of his lips to the exact number of lines that form at the corners of his eyes when he laughs, Draco has catalogued every shade of one Harry James Potter between the pages of his sketchbook.

So long as Potter remains none the wiser, Draco will have no trouble controlling his crush.

But when Potter comes to him with a dangerous proposition, Draco fears things are about to get so much more complicated.

✨ head over heels / 21k / Everyone in Harry's life thinks he's engaged to Malfoy. The solution to this is not pretending to date Malfoy, but here he is doing that anyway.

✨ A Lick and a Promise / 55k / Something sinister stirs in Hogwarts!

When magical creatures and students at the school are hit with a debilitating blood curse, Minerva McGonagall approaches the Ministry for help.

Star Auror Harry Potter seems to be the obvious choice to go undercover-as

DADA Professor, naturally. He's going to need the help of the Ministry's foremost expert in blood magic to get to the bottom of the mystery, though, and he's not entirely convinced that going back to Hogwarts with Draco Malfoy is a good idea.

Things are complicated between them-what's new?-but they know they have to learn to work together (and keep their hands off each other in the corridors) in order to solve this case.

Luckily for them, Hogwarts itself wants to lend a hand.

A tale of love, lessons, and learning to really live.

✨ Darkest Before the Dawn / 47k / The last thing Draco wanted was to show up at Harry Potter's door, cursed blind and holding a boxful of his friends Transfigured into snakes, but here he was.

Between breaking the curse, adjusting to life without sight, and teaching his Defence Against the Dark Arts classes, Draco's got his hands full. Being forced to live with Harry Potter might just be the death of him.

This is a story about the bonds of friendship, fairy tale endings, and learning to ask for help (even from Gryffindors).

✨ how can i love what i know i'm gonna lose? (don't make me choose) / 8k / Harry's soulmark is his scar, but he doesn't know that. He thinks he has no soulmate.

And Draco, who has Harry Potter's scar on the inside of his hip, is not planning on ever telling him. Ever. It would break him in two.

But when Hogwarts institutes a Health Ed week where Draco is tasked with the topic of soulmates, he begins to think maybe Harry needs to know.

✨ The New Potions Professor / 33k / Harry wearily entered the teachers’ lounge to meet the new Potions professor. After much convincing by McGonagall, Slughorn had finally agreed to retire and take better care of his health.

So now some new Potions master was taking his place, and they had arrived today.

Harry went inside and froze immediately.

“You’ve got to be joking.” He said.

or

Harry has taught Defense Against Dark Arts for over a decade and a half and Malfoy thinks he can just waltz into Hogwarts and teach too? Absolutely not.

✨ Phoenix in the Fire / 28k / Harry never expected to have a hot summer fling with Draco Malfoy when he agreed to mind the castle with him. He also never expected that it would all have to end on August thirty-first. What happens when casual sex with Harry’s ex-enemy turns not casual after all? And how the hell is he going to stop Draco from making one of the biggest mistakes of his life?

✨ Two Shadows in the Night / 81k / Five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry returns to his old school to claim the position of DADA teacher.

The way he's been ignoring his issues and trying to live up to everyone's impossibly high expectations is catching up to him. Will a certain blond ex-Death Eater be able to help him finally heal?

✨ Most Favourite Bedtime Story / 46k / Scorpius' most favourite bedtime story? The story of how his parents fell in love. And his grandmother tells it the best!

✨ Living in a Muggle World / 22k / After getting together during Eighth year, Harry and Draco move to Harry's cottage in the Scottish countryside and Draco starts working in a muggle library.

Or

My flimsy excuse to write the sappiest, cutesiest shit with almost no plot and love-letters and cheesy poems and I have absolutely no excuses or regrets.

✨ Spoiled Little Brat / 9k / Harry won't stoop to Malfoy's level.

Really, he won't.

(He will.)

[back2bluesidex]

BTS Scenario: Seeing Them Out With Someone Else - Hyung Line

Pairing: BTS Hyung line x Reader (Individual storyline)

Word count: 1.4k+ total

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak

Masterlist | Patreon

A/N: Tried something different. I always wanted to write angsty scenarios. Guess it's a good time to give it a try since basically nothing else is working out. haha.

Kim Namjoon

You are an expert in random trivia. You take pride in adhering to a little more than average general knowledge. But the moment someone asks you “what’s the deepest spot on earth?” you would fumble all over the floor with your answer because you don’t know if it’s Mariana trench or if it’s Kim Namjoon’s dimples. 

Kim Namjoon is not a simple name - it’s the person who holds your years of interest, the catelogue of your first kiss, the awkward skinship that were forbidden for any high schooler back then. Kim Namjoon is your first love, your first heartbreak, your first and last “will always remember him with a smile on my face.” so when you spot the depth of the same dimple, through the mass of black, brown and other coloured heads - you reel for a minute. 

You reel and reel and reel back to the time when he threaded his fingers with yours right under a cherry tree that was yet to bloom into beauty and whispered that he liked you. Your stomach feels light, butterflies uncaging in a moment to fly around all over your insides. 

You take a step towards him, ready to rekindle whatever the spark is left off after ten years of radio silence. As you make your way through the annoyed crowd, whispering ‘sorry’s but meaning none, you pray. You pray for him to remember you the way you remember him. But as you trudge close, you see another human being, attached to his side, fingers interlaced just the way he had yours once upon a time. 

Fool. A fool is what you  are. A fool in memory of a love that was lost long ago. 

Obviously. Obviously Namjoon has someone. Not everyone is an emotional fool like you. Not everyone cherishes memories more than living beings. 

Not everyone searches the crowed for a familiar pair of dimples for ten fucking years. 

You try to move forward, move on in cue. But it’s too late because Namjoon is looking straight at you. 

“Y/N…” He calls your name with a lingering familiarity. 

“Hey” you smile, trying to recall the time when you weren’t in love with him. 

Kim Seokjin 

From the beginning you knew it was a bad idea - both sleeping with your senior manager and falling in love with him. 

But when it’s Kim Seokjin on the other side, do you really have a say?  

He walked into your stuffy, damp life like a breeze of spring air, swept you off your feet and you gave in. you took whatever he offered you. 

It was a mistake to accept the ‘no-strings-attached’ condition he attached to your relationship even while being fully aware of how you feel for him. And now you are paying the price. 

Your corset dress threatens to choke your chest to death when you witness him walking in with an otherworldly beautiful woman in tow. 

They look beautifully perfect together. Now you understand what Seokjin meant when he said he needs to stop seeing you, that he found someone perfect for him. 

While you still think the conception of perfection is overrated - you would agree to the fact that you wouldn’t look as graceful as the woman he is carrying tonight to the party. 

“Yuri, this is Y/N. My best subordinate. And Y/N, this is Yuri, my girlfriend.” Seokjin introduces his woman, not meeting your eyes at all. 

You put on your best smile, “Hey Yuri. Nice to meet you finally.” 

Your eyes meet with Seokjin’s over her shoulders and he has a thousand different emotions playing in his iris. 

Min Yoongi 

Min Yoongi has always been a fraction of your dream. A faraway star residing in a different galaxy - light years away. 

So it doesn’t bother you at all when he walks into the cafeteria and doesn’t spare a single glance at your way. 

Your teammate rises on her feet and greets him with a bow to gain his attention, so you are left with no choice but to follow her suit. 

When his eyes find yours, he stops in his tracks, “oh. You are Y/N, right?” he asks in his rough yet soothing voice. 

“Yes, sunbae” you duck your head in respect. 

“I heard the demo you prepared for Jimin’s album. Must say, you have potential. Keep working hard and one day we will produce music together.” he smiles at you, full and gummy. You melt. All of the unsolicited feelings that you nurtured in the cage of your heart spread long vines around your rib cage. 

You find your ears and cheek heating up with the impact. 

“Sure, sunbae. I will work ha-” 

“Oppa! You are here? I have been looking for you!” one of the raising solo idols, that you forgot the name of, runs towards Yoongi and holds his arm in her grip. 

He, as much as you know, despite being someone who hardly encourages physical touches pulls her even closer. 

Your heart breaks as fast as it expanded earlier. 

He smiles at her brighter than he just smiled at you and you know… you know dreams hardly ever come true. 

“Have a good lunch, sunbae.” you greet again, before sitting down and focusing on your lunch. 

“You okay?” your co-worker asks once the couple is out of earshot. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you shove the bitter feeling down. 

Jung Hoseok 

It’s not everyday when you get to see a celebrity on the sidewalk. That too, the one that was in a relationship with you just six months prior. 

It would have been okay seeing Hoseok after he blocked you with a single explanation if there was not another human being with him currently. Her face is covered with a mask, head is bragging a black simple cap with a LV logo and somehow you know she is the reason behind Hoseok’s treason. 

A pang of fresh, sharp pain courses through the entirety of your body. 

If he told you once, you would have let him go without a fight. He didn’t… didn’t have to close the door on your face like that. 

Now as you walk behind them, while he has no idea of your presence - you find irony in the universe. You are witnessing the very thing that he didn’t want you to know, that too, on a random sidewalk. 

Funny. 

Suddenly your eyes fall on a car parked on the otherside of the road. A camera is pointed directly at the couple through the narrow slit of the glass window trying to capture them discreetly while they roam freely. 

You suck in a deep breath. 

It’s none of your business. You tell yourself again and again. 

But something about waking up to Hoseok’s dating rumour playing on the national television bothers you to the core. 

You take your phone out. Place it on your ear pretending as if you are calling someone. Then you walk close to the couple. 

When you are right behind Hoseok and you are positive he can hear you, you speak, “Hey Hoseok, it’s Y/N.” 

Hoseok visibly stiffens. 

“Don’t worry. I am not stalking you or anything. It’s a pure coincidence.” you continue. 

Hoseok is about to turn and face you but you stop him, “Don’t. Don’t turn around. I have my phone attached to my ear pretending to be in a call. I just wanna tell you that there’s a car on the other side of the road and they are clicking your pictures. 7337, the license plate number. If you have your managers somewhere nearby, you should inform them.” 

You finish with a huff and then proceed to walk away without a look back. 

Next day your phone buzzes with a call from a restricted number. You know what it can be. When you receive it, you hear him address you by your name after six long months. Your lungs fill with so much pain that it’s even tough to breathe. 

“Y/N..” Hoseok calls. 

“Hmm” 

“Thanks for yesterday. Manager hyung caught the papps in time. My face would have been all over the place today if not for you.” 

“Yeah. glad that I was of help.” 

“Yes. and I… I am so sorry for what I did-”

“Hoseok, if you are done then I think we should keep it till here. I am short on time. Gotta go. Take care.” 

You cut the call without waiting for a response. Tears spill through the corners of your eyes and you let yourself cry. 

If this is the end, your tears should be the best mode of farewell. 

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[maretinelli]

A GREAT MOTHER TO BE

Oscar Piastri X Dentist!fem!reader

Summary: Y/n Piastri has a pediatric dentist office and this leads to many fun conversations with the children. Oscar overhears one of the genuine conversations and is sure that she will be a great mother in a few months.

Words: 1.7K+

Warnings: Cute, mention of Y/n's work, cute patients, Y/n's pregnancy, Husband and wife, and again, so cute

Author: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. And you can request stories on my profile❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

Y/n always said her job was an adventure. Each child who entered her office brought a unique personality and stories that made them laugh, reflect and, often, be enchanted.

As a pediatric dentist, she knew it wasn't just about caring for children's teeth, but also about creating a safe and welcoming environment for little ones to feel comfortable.

At the end of each day, it was almost a ritual for her to come home and tell stories to Oscar, who listened attentively while caressing his wife's belly, which was already rounded by four months of pregnancy.

He loved listening to her describe the children's antics, laughing at their imitations or exaggerated expressions as he recounted how the unlikely conversations between her and her patients took place.

At the moment, Y/n was working another day at the office. Y/n gently adjusted her stool and leaned towards her little patient, a four-year-old girl named Emily. With golden curls tied with a blue ribbon, Emily was the definition of curiosity.

"Okay, Emily, I'm going to use this little mirror here to take a look at your teeth, okay?" Y/n said with a reassuring smile, turning the small dental mirror in her hand.

Emily nodded quietly, but as soon as Y/n took the mirror out of her mouth, the inevitable question came.

"Why is he so small?"

Y/n chuckled softly, keeping her tone calm and playful. "Because I need it to fit in your little mouth. If it were bigger, you wouldn't be able to see everything properly, right?"

"Ah... so he's like a princess mirror?" Emily concluded, her eyes shining.

"Exactly!" Y/n replied, finding the comparison amusing. "And with it, I can see all the hidden parts of your teeth castle." Y/n smiled at the girl and turned her amused gaze to Emily's mother, who was watching the procedure. "She's so sweet!" Y/n said smiling.

Emily's mother laughs in agreement. "And very curious, you see."

Satisfied with the explanation, Emily opened her mouth again. Y/n picked up an instrument to check for a small cavity, but as soon as she took it out, another question popped up.

"What is that? A paintbrush?"

"It's an instrument that helps me clean places where the brush can't reach" Y/n explained. "It's like a magic broom to keep everything clean."

"My mom will want one of these!" Emily responded excitedly, eliciting a laugh from Yin and her mother who was sitting in an armchair at the back of the office.

Outside, Oscar had parked his car in the parking lot and entered his wife's office. He smiles at the receptionist and she briefly says that Y/n was answering. Already knowing that he was her boss's husband.

Oscar smiles in agreement. "Oh sure, I was a little early, just..." He looks at his watch and smiles. "We have an appointment to see our baby in an hour."

The receptionist smiles and nods. And then the pilot walks down the hallway until he reaches the waiting room, which was in front of Y/n's office.

The environment was so colorful and full of life from the children passing by that Oscar felt more and more anxious to have his baby in his arms.

With the door to her office half open, Oscar could hear his wife talking calmly to the child she was treating, while the little one laughed and asked more questions about the dental equipment she used.

He couldn't stop smiling when he heard how Y/n handled the little girl with so much patience and affection, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

As Y/n explained each step to Emily, Oscar found himself thinking about what it would be like when it was their baby there, asking the same curious questions and seeking answers with the same sweetness.

Y/n adjusted the instruments on the tray beside her while little Emily lay there, waiting patiently.

"We're almost done, princess" Y/n said with a warm smile, standing up to get more gauze from the nearby cabinet. As she stood up, she instinctively placed a hand under her belly, the gesture so natural that she didn't even notice.

Emily, however, widened her eyes at the movement and pointed, with an innocent and curious smile.

"Ah, you have a baby with you!"

Y/n chuckled, turning to the little girl as she picked up the gauze. "Yes, I have a baby here with me."

"Do you take him everywhere?" Emily asked naively, her eyes shining with curiosity.

Y/n and the girl's mother laughed at the comment.

"Yes, I will. But only for nine months," Y/n replied, sitting back down in the chair next to the little girl. "Actually, after I'm done here with you, I also have an appointment to see how he's doing."

Emily opened her mouth, eager for Y/n to continue the procedure, but she couldn't hold back the questions. As soon as Y/n finished, Emily leaned forward in her chair and asked excitedly.

"And what is his name? Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

Y/n arranged the instruments and smiled. "My husband and I haven't decided on a name yet, but it's a little boy."

Emily smiled even wider. Y/n helped her down from the chair and the little girl ran to her mother. Before leaving, Y/n took out a 'certificate of courage' and a shiny star pin and handed them to Emily.

"There you go, you were a very brave patient today!" Y/n said, handing over the items.

Emily looked at the brooch and certificate as if they were treasures and, before leaving with her mother, she turned to Y/n with an unexpected request.

"Could... could you bring a picture of the baby for me to see at my next appointment?"

Y/n chuckled softly, bending down to her level. "Of course. Next time, I'll bring a picture of my boy for you to see. But only if you promise me you'll brush your teeth properly, okay?"

Emily smiled excitedly and nodded in agreement.

Meanwhile, Oscar, who was still watching everything from the half-open door, felt his heart tighten. He already knew that Y/n was special, but seeing her like this, so natural, so affectionate with the children, only reinforced how lucky he was to have her.

Y/n gave him a gentle smile as she opened the office door, before turning to Emily's mother.

"If you can avoid sweets for now and help her brush her teeth after meals, I believe she won't have any more pain. We look forward to seeing you next week."

Emily's mother thanked her, and the little girl gave Y/n a tight hug before running out of the office, she smiled excitedly and ran in front of her mother, stopping at the reception to show the brooch to the receptionist.

Oscar then approached his wife, smiling as she watched the girl walk away. He gave her a soft kiss on the forehead.

"How are you, love?"

Y/n sighed, a calm smile on her lips.

"I'm fine, I'm just going to pack up before we go to the appointment."

Oscar walked her back to the office, watching her as she organized the instruments. He knew their lives would change completely in the coming months, but at that moment, he knew for sure that Y/n would be an incredible mother.

"You have a gift, you know?"

"Why?" Y/n asked curiously as she sanitized the instruments.

"The way you deal with these children. The patience, the calm manner... You can see how safe they feel with you."

Y/n blushed slightly. "Ah, it's work, Osc. We adapt."

Oscar shook his head, approaching his wife. "No, it's you. And I have no doubt: in a few months, you're going to be an incredible mother."

His words took her by surprise, and Y/n felt her eyes well up. She smiled, moving closer to him and placing a hand on her belly.

"I hope you're right, because I'm counting on your help, Mr. Piastri."

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Always. Now let's go see how daddy's little boy is doing." He placed a hand on her back as he guided her to the office door.

She laughs. "No, he's definitely a mommy's boy. Isn't he, son?" She runs her hands over her belly and the baby moves. "Look, he moved. That means he agrees with me."

Oscar chuckled, bending down slightly to get closer to Y/n's belly. He gently ran his hand over the spot where the baby had moved.

"Little guy, listen to Daddy. You're my partner, right? You're going to help me with Mommy when she starts saying she's the boss around here."

Y/n gave a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Do you really think he'll take your side?"

Oscar looked up at her, a mischievous smile on his face. "I'm sure. We're already a team!"

"Of course they are..." Y/n replied, amused, running her hand through her husband's hair. "Until he's born, then he'll understand that, deep down, he's a mommy's little boy."

"We'll see!" Oscar teased and laced his fingers through hers as they walked down the hallway. "But in the meantime, let's see how our little champion is doing."

"Little champion?" Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Are you putting pressure on him already, Piastri?"

Oscar made an innocent gesture with his hands. "Not at all. I'm just saying that if he's half as good as you, he's already a champion."

Y/n stopped for a moment in the hallway, looking at him with a look full of tenderness. She leaned in and gave him a brief but meaningful kiss on the lips.

"You know how to make me emotional, you know?"

He smiled, squeezing her hand affectionately. "It's easy, you're everything to me."

And with that, Oscar opened the office door and led her to the car, as they laughed together about who the baby would choose as his favorite in the future.

That moment, so simple, yet so full of love and companionship, reinforced what Y/n already knew: They were not just a couple, they were a team, ready to face any challenge while anxiously awaiting the arrival of the baby that was already so loved.