#you shiver and the city shivers with you.

[elixirfromthestars]

Dancing Embers

Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Reader

Summary: A cozy cabin, the love of your life, and the warmth of a fire. What more could you ask for on a cold winter night?

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning(s): none. pure fluff. slight insinuation at the end. female reader.

Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> a crackling fire sets the mood

a/n: This piece is written as a standalone. However, I will link below the pairing this fic is based on in case you want to read more of them. For context, this timeline is one where Bucky made it back from the war safe and sound and is enjoying his life now that the war is over. Thank you for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡

how their love story began ♡ || fluffy winter drabbles masterlist ❆

The hum of the radio travels through the air and finds its way into the kitchen where you’re placing tonight’s dinner in the oven. A puff of hot air caresses your face as you close the oven door, the casserole dish cocooned inside by a blazing heat. You pick up the small timer from the counter and twist the dial, setting it for thirty minutes. 

Now, you have to find something to do to pass the time…

You look around the unfamiliar kitchen, its rustic woodsy furnishing a cozy contrast to the one in your apartment in the city. A smile makes its way to your face as you recall how Bucky surprised you with this weekend getaway. It was after you came home from a shift at the children’s clinic—exhaustion heavy in your bones. An exhaustion he eased with a homecooked meal and a plethora of loving kisses. All leading up to the surprise of a weekend trip just for the two of you, presented to you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a handwritten note.

You started packing right away after that. 

While still ruminating on the joy of the memory, you begin to tidy up the mess in the kitchen—the one left from your dinner preparations. There wasn’t much to clean up—bits of leftover ingredients here and a few prep dishes there—but at least it gives you something to do while the timer counts down in the background. 

Out of the blue, a frosty air embraces you from behind. You let out a small squeal as the arms that usually radiate warmth are bitterly cold against your skin. A sharp intake of breath escaping you at the contact.

“Bucky, you’re freezing!” you say with concern and caught off guard by the piercing chill of his hands. How long had he been out in the cold? 

“Not anymore,” he mutters a response as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his icy lips pressing kisses into your skin. A shiver goes down your spine as the frost on his lips melts away into a heat that you’re used to. 

You twist in his arms to face him, pulling him even closer by his wool jacket to kiss the tip of his reddened nose, hoping to bring warmth back to it. Bucky grins at you with a gentle adoration, even more so when you brush off the remnants of winter from his hair and shoulders. His eyes take in your every feature like he wants to commit this moment to memory. 

When it comes to you, he always does. There’s never been a moment with you he doesn’t hold dear in his heart. His time at war taught him to treasure every second he gets with those he loves most. And of course, as the love of his life, that includes you. 

“I’m going to need more than that to warm up, doll,” he claims playfully, before connecting his lips to yours, pulling you flush against him by your waist. Your arms eagerly wrap around his shoulders, melting into him faster than the snow on his body does. The kiss is sweet, yet profound as if the hour spent apart had been entirely too long for the both of you. 

When the kiss has restricted enough air from your lungs, you both pull away only slightly and out of breath, smiling from ear to ear. You collect yourself enough to say, “Dinner should be ready soon.” Bucky, however, has his attention elsewhere as he plants a soft kiss to your forehead, your nose, and then your lips once more. 

“Sounds. Good. Doll,” he mumbles the words between kisses that leave you in a fit of giggles. A sound that almost drowns out the grumbling of his stomach. 

“Someone’s hungry.”

“Mm, chopping lumber will do that to you.”

“Chopping lumber?”

“For the fireplace. I should probably go and get it started.”

Bucky lets out an exaggerated sigh, not entirely keen on going back out into the cold night. He presses a tender kiss to the top of your head before reluctantly detaching his arms from your waist as he heads back outside. He spends the next few minutes hauling in pieces of wood into the living room where he tends to the fireplace. Meanwhile, you get the dining table ready for your dinner for two. 

As you are on the brink of finishing setting up, you notice the radio gets louder—a slow song replacing the previous hum. It’s not long before Bucky comes back into the kitchen, however, this time he’s swaying slowly to the rhythm of the music. There’s a glimmer in his eyes as his hands outstretch to beckon you to him. 

“Dance with me,” he says, taking hold of your hands and placing them on his shoulders. You laugh softly, looking at him with fond mirth. “Maybe later, sweetheart. Dinner’s almost ready,” you mention, glancing at the mechanical timer that would go off in a few minutes.

Bucky shakes his head, watching as your hands slide down from his shoulders, but before they can go anywhere, he swiftly intertwines them with his own. He uses this small leverage to begin coaxing you out of the kitchen and into the living room with gentle tugs. “Dinner can wait, doll. I want to dance with my best girl first,” he replies, his expression full of pleading affection. 

You can never say no when he looks at you like that. 

You throw the image of the timer to the back of your head and follow Bucky into the center of the living room. To your right, the fireplace crackles beautifully with bright embers, cascading the room in an amber glow. To your left, the coffee table, handcrafted in oak, is pushed up against the sofa, giving you enough space by the fireplace to dance. 

Bucky’s hands find purchase at your waist as he anchors you closer. Your hands settle against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. Soon your hips and his gradually sway in sync, letting the melody of the song guide you. 

You hold each other close for what seems like a lifetime, the heat of the fire amplifying the warmth that radiates between you. Its flames flicker alongside you as if slow dancing themselves. The serenity of the moment forever engraves itself into your heart. 

“I love you, Y/n. I can’t wait for the rest of our lives to start,” Bucky’s voice is full of devotion, bringing your left hand up to his lips to kiss the spot right where your engagement ring is. You look at him as if he hung the moon for you, “I love you too, Bucky. Forever can’t come soon enough.” Your hands snake up to wrap behind his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss, the kind that consumes as quickly as a spark catches fire. However, before the intensity can reach a boiling point, a loud ringing suddenly breaks it. The timer in the kitchen signaling whatever desires were igniting would have to be put on pause until after dinner. 

“Dinners ready,” neither of you are ready to break apart when you whisper this. A beat passes and Bucky lifts your chin gently with his finger, so your gaze locks with his adoring one.

“One more kiss.”

“The casserole is going to burn.” 

“Just one more?”

There he goes again with that pleading expression you can’t resist. 

“You know it won’t be just one more, James Buchanan Barnes,” you point out and he lets out a hearty chuckle. 

“You know me so well Mrs.Barnes-to-be.” 

He kisses you again anyway—short and sweet—leaving you with a promise for more to hold onto. Your laughter mixes with his as you lead him back to the kitchen. He hugs you from behind one last time as he whispers an enticing promise into your ear. 

“After dinner, I’m having you for dessert.” 

[moonlightwritingf1]

Barcelona Nights | LN4

⋆˙⟡♡ summary ━━━━━━━ YN gets caught masturbating in the hotel room by Lando.

⋆˙⟡♡ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

⋆˙⟡♡ word count ━━━━━━━ 3.9k

⋆˙⟡♡ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

The Barcelona air was thick with the hum of engines and the buzz of anticipation. Y/n stood on the balcony of the luxurious hotel suite, her fingers gripping the railing as she watched the city lights flicker to life in the distance. She could still hear the faint roar of the crowd from the circuit, even miles away. Her heart had been racing all day, though not because of the cars—Lando’s presence had a way of doing that to her.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. Why did I agree to this? she thought, though deep down, she knew the answer. Lando had been persistent, charming, and borderline irresistible since the moment they’d met six months ago. His playful teasing, his unwavering attention, the way his eyes always seemed to find her in a room—it was intoxicating. And yet, she’d kept her feelings locked away, afraid to admit them even to herself.

The sound of the door opening snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned to see Lando stepping inside, his McLaren cap backwards, his face flushed from the day’s events. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm but slightly breathless. “Sorry it took so long. Post-qualifying stuff, you know how it is.”

Y/n nodded, trying to act casual. “No worries. How’d it go?”

He grinned, that familiar sparkle in his eyes. “P2. Not bad, eh? But honestly, I couldn’t wait to get back here.” He walked over, leaning against the balcony railing beside her. “How about you? Enjoying Barcelona?”

“It’s… different,” she admitted, her gaze drifting back to the skyline. “But nice. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Like I’d leave you behind,” he said lightly, nudging her shoulder with his. His touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she quickly looked away, hoping he didn’t notice.

They stood there in comfortable silence for a while, the city’s energy wrapping around them like a blanket. Finally, Lando straightened up. “Listen, I’ve got some media stuff tomorrow morning early, so I’ll probably be out late tonight. You don’t have to wait up for me, yeah?”

She nodded, though a part of her wished he’d stay. “Got it. Don’t let me keep you.”

He hesitated, studying her face as if searching for something. Then, with a soft smile, he said, “Alright. See you later, yeah?”

“Later,” she echoed, watching as he grabbed a few things from the living room before heading out the door. The lock clicked shut behind him, leaving her alone in the spacious suite.

Y/n wandered back into the living room, her mind buzzing with restless energy. She poured herself a glass of wine, sipping it slowly as she tried to calm her nerves. But the more she sat there, the more aware she became of the tension simmering beneath her skin. It had been building for weeks—months, really—and now, alone in this lavish suite, it felt impossible to ignore.

She set the glass down, her fingers trembling slightly as she made her way to her bedroom. The room was large and elegant, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city. She closed the curtains, shutting out the world, and began to undress.

Her hands moved slowly, almost reverently, as she peeled off her clothes and let them fall to the floor. The cool air brushed against her bare skin, sending goosebumps across her body. She climbed onto the bed, her heart pounding as she reached for the dildo she’d packed in her luggage. It wasn’t something she normally brought on trips, but something about being here, in this city, in this suite, had compelled her.

She lay back against the pillows, her breath quickening as she positioned the toy between her legs. The first touch sent a jolt of electricity through her, and she bit her lip to stifle a moan. Her hips arched instinctively, craving more, and soon she was lost in the rhythm, her fingers moving in tandem with the toy.

Her thoughts drifted to Lando—his smile, his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he teased her. She imagined his hands on her body, his lips on her neck, his voice whispering her name. The fantasy consumed her, and soon she was moaning his name aloud, her hips grinding against the toy as her pleasure built.

Unbeknownst to her, Lando had returned to the suite way earlier than expected. He’d intended to grab something he’d forgotten, but the sound of her soft moans stopped him in his tracks. His breath caught, and he froze, his body reacting instantly to the realization of what was happening.

He crept closer to her bedroom, the door slightly ajar, and peered inside. The sight before him was enough to make his knees weak. Y/n was completely naked, her body glistening with sweat as she rode the dildo with abandon. Her breasts bounced with each movement, her face a mask of ecstasy as she whispered his name between gasps.

Lando’s hand instinctively went to his crotch, where he could feel himself hardening at the sight. He wanted to turn away, to give her privacy, but he was rooted to the spot, transfixed by her raw, unfiltered desire.

Then, as if sensing his presence, Y/n’s eyes flew open, locking onto his. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Her movements faltered, and she scrambled to cover herself, her face flushing crimson. “Lando! Oh my god, I—”

He stepped into the room, holding up a hand to stop her. “Don’t,” he said softly, his voice low and husky. “Don’t apologize.”

She stared at him, her chest heaving as she tried to process what was happening. “I-I didn’t think you’d be back so soon,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando took another step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “Neither did I,” he admitted. “But I’m glad I was.”

Her breath hitched as he approached, his presence filling the room. She could see the hunger in his eyes, the same desire that had been simmering between them for months finally coming to a head.

“You were saying my name,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement and something far more primal. “Care to explain why?”

Y/n’s cheeks burned, but she held his gaze, refusing to back down. “What do you think?”

Lando smirked, closing the distance between them until he was standing at the edge of the bed. “I think,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, “that it’s about time we stopped pretending.”

Her heart raced as he leaned down, his face inches from hers. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, the intensity of his gaze making it impossible to look away.

“Lando…” she breathed, her voice trembling.

He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her lips. “Tell me what you want, Y/n,” he murmured. “Because I’m done waiting.”

Y/n’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath caught somewhere between panic and desire as Lando’s thumb lingered on her lips. His eyes bore into hers, unrelenting, searching for the truth she had buried so deep inside herself. The air between them was charged, electric, and she felt like a single word could ignite everything.

“I…” she started, her voice barely audible, but Lando didn’t let her finish.

“No more hiding,” he said firmly, his hand still cradling her face. “Tell me, Y/n. Tell me what you want.”

Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She swallowed hard, her walls crumbling under the weight of his gaze. “I… I want you,” she whispered, her voice shaking but clear. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Lando. I just… I didn’t think—”

He cut her off with a kiss, soft at first, testing, as if to make sure she meant every word she’d said. But the moment their lips met, something ignited—years of tension, longing, and unspoken feelings exploding in an instant. His other hand found the back of her neck, pulling her closer as his lips moved against hers with a hunger that left her dizzy.

She gasped into his mouth, her hands instinctively gripping his shoulders for balance. He deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers in a way that made her entire body tremble. It was raw, passionate, and utterly consuming. Every thought in her head evaporated, replaced only by the feeling of him—his taste, his warmth, his strength.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless. Lando rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, his breathing ragged. “God, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Me too,” she admitted softly, her cheeks flushed. Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, reveling in the roughness of his stubble. “But Lando… we can’t… not now. You have to get to the track again.”

He groaned, dropping his head onto her shoulder. “You’re killing me,” he muttered, his breath warm against her skin. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be to focus tonight knowing you’re here waiting for me?”

The low rumble of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She bit her lip, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you kissed me like that.”

Lando lifted his head, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Oh, trust me, darling, that was just the beginning.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Tonight, I’m going to make sure you forget your own name.”

Her breath hitched, and she felt a rush of heat pooling low in her stomach. She opened her mouth to respond, but he pulled away before she could, stepping back with a look of mock regret.

“Unfortunately,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I really do need to go. But don’t think for a second I’m letting you off the hook.” He winked, backing toward the door. “Be ready for me tonight, Y/n. I expect you to make good on all those fantasies you’ve been having about me.”

Before she could protest or even process what he’d just said, he was gone, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the room. She stared after him, her mind reeling. Did he just…? Yes, he did. A blush crept up her neck as she realized exactly what he’d overheard.

Groaning, she flopped back onto the bed, covering her face with her hands. This is going to be a long night, she thought, her heart still racing from the intensity of his kiss.

---

As the hours dragged on, Y/n found herself restless. She tried to distract herself—took a shower, changed into something comfortable, even attempted to read a book—but nothing could quiet the storm of emotions swirling inside her. Lando’s words echoed in her mind, taunting her, teasing her. Tonight, I’m going to make sure you forget your own name.

Her stomach flipped at the memory, and she found herself wondering just how far he planned to take this. Would he keep teasing her like he always did, or would he finally give in to the undeniable chemistry between them?

By the time the sun began to set, she was a bundle of nerves, pacing the living room of the suite. Every creak of the floorboards made her jump, her anticipation growing with each passing minute. Finally, she heard the sound of a key card being inserted into the lock, and her heart leapt into her throat.

The door swung open, and there he was, looking as unfairly handsome as ever. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his shirt clung to his frame in a way that made her mouth go dry. He smirked when he saw her standing there, frozen in place.

“Waiting for me?” he asked, his voice dripping with amusement as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

She crossed her arms, trying to appear nonchalant despite the way her heart was pounding. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually show up,” she replied, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.

Lando chuckled, setting his bag down by the door before walking toward her. “You really think I’d miss this?” he asked, stopping just inches away from her. His gaze dropped to her lips, and she could feel the heat radiating off his body.

“What?” she challenged, tilting her chin up defiantly. “Got something to prove, Norris?”

His laugh was low and throaty, sending shivers down her spine. “Oh, darling,” he murmured, leaning in so close she could feel his breath on her skin. “I’m going to prove so much more than that.”

Lando stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers as he began to unbutton his shirt. “I’m going to take a shower,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “You’re welcome to join me.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed, but she shook her head quickly, trying to hide the way her body reacted to his words. “No, thanks,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest in what she hoped was a defiant gesture.

He smirked, clearly not buying her act, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he tossed his shirt onto the chair beside him and turned toward the bathroom, giving her one last lingering look before closing the door behind him.

The sound of the shower starting filled the suite, and Y/n let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her heart was still racing, and her skin felt hot everywhere Lando’s gaze had touched her. She glanced toward the closed bathroom door, then at the bed in his room, an idea forming in her mind.

What if I…?

Without giving herself time to second-guess, she slipped into his bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. She stood there for a moment, listening to the faint sound of water running from the shower, then slowly began to undress. Her clothes fell to the floor in a pile, and she stepped out of them, feeling exposed yet exhilarated. She climbed into his bed, pulling the covers up to her chin as she waited.

The minutes dragged on, each one stretching longer than the last. Her nerves were on edge, every sound making her jump slightly. Finally, the shower turned off, and she heard the bathroom door open. She held her breath, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

Lando stepped into the room, towel slung low around his hips, his hair still damp and tousled. He froze when he saw her in his bed, his eyes widening slightly before a slow, knowing smile spread across his face. “Well, well,” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe. “Look who decided to make herself comfortable.”

Y/n bit her lip, trying to appear confident despite the way her pulse was racing. She shrugged, the motion causing the sheet to slip slightly, revealing the curve of her shoulder. “Your bed looked more inviting,” she said, her voice soft but steady.

“Is that so?” he asked, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward the bed. His movements were deliberate, each step bringing him closer until he was standing at the foot of the bed, looking down at her with a heated gaze. “And here I thought you weren’t interested in joining me earlier.”

She shifted under the covers, the sheet sliding down further to reveal the swell of her breasts. “Maybe I changed my mind,” she murmured, her eyes locked on his.

Lando chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine. He reached for the towel around his waist, his fingers brushing against the fabric as he teased her with his next move. Slowly, almost torturously, he tugged the towel loose, letting it fall to the floor.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of him. His cock was already hard, thick and throbbing, and she couldn’t help but lick her lips as her gaze traveled over him. God, he’s gorgeous, she thought, her mouth suddenly dry.

“Like what you see?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he watched her reaction.

She nodded, unable to tear her eyes away. “Very much,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Lando’s grin widened, and he climbed onto the bed, kneeling at the end as he leaned over her. “Then why don’t you show me just how much?” he suggested, his tone teasing but unmistakably serious.

Y/n hesitated for only a moment before sitting up, letting the covers fall away completely as she moved toward him. She crawled across the bed, her eyes never leaving his as she positioned herself between his legs. Her hands rested on his thighs, warm and firm beneath her touch, and she leaned forward, her breath ghosting over his cock before she finally took him into her mouth.

“Fuck,” Lando groaned, his head tilting back as her lips wrapped around him. His hands tangled in her hair, guiding her but not forcing her, letting her set the pace.

She took her time, exploring him with her tongue, savoring the way he throbbed in her mouth. She kissed him, licked him, played

She pulled back slightly, her lips still brushing against the tip of his cock as she spoke, her voice low and teasing. “You have a very nice cock, Lando.” Her tongue flicked out to taste him again, and he groaned, his hips jerking involuntarily.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he breathed, his hands tightening in her hair. “You’re going to kill me.”

She smiled, her eyes locking with his as she took him deeper into her mouth, savoring the way he filled her. She could feel him throbbing against her tongue, taste the saltiness of his skin, and it only made her want more. Her hand moved down to cup his balls, gently rolling them between her fingers as she sucked him, her lips moving up and down his length with practiced ease.

“I love your cock,” she murmured, pulling back just enough to speak before taking him in again. “I could suck it every day.”

Lando let out a choked laugh, his breath hitching as she worked him over. “You’re fucking insatiable,” he muttered, but there was no heat in his words, only awe and desire.

As she continued to pleasure him, she could feel herself growing wetter, her own need building with every moan that escaped his lips. She was dripping onto the bed beneath her, her arousal impossible to ignore. When Lando noticed, his eyes darkened, and a sly grin spread across his face.

“Look at you,” he teased, his voice thick with lust. “So fucking wet for me, aren’t you? My little slut.”

She blushed at his words, but they only fueled her desire, making her even more desperate for him. She moaned around his cock, her eyes fluttering closed as she lost herself in the sensation of him filling her mouth.

But Lando had other plans. With a growl, he pulled her off him, ignoring her whimper of protest. He flipped her onto her back, his eyes raking over her naked body like a predator sizing up its prey. His gaze lingered on the glistening wetness between her thighs, and he licked his lips hungrily.

“I need to taste you,” he declared, his voice rough with need. “Now.”

Before she could respond, he was on her, his mouth descending on her core with a hunger that left her gasping. His tongue delved into her, exploring her folds with an intensity that made her arch off the bed. She cried out, her hands tangling in his hair as he devoured her, his tongue lapping at her wetness like a man dying of thirst.

“Lando!” she screamed, her hips bucking against his face as he drove her closer and closer to the edge. Every lick, every suck, every thrust of his tongue sent waves of pleasure crashing through her, leaving her trembling and incoherent.

He paused for a moment, looking up at her with a wicked grin. “God, you taste so good,” he murmured, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh. “I could eat you out all day and never get enough.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she whimpered, her nails digging into his scalp as she begged him not to stop. He didn’t need to be told twice. His mouth returned to her, his tongue working her clit with a precision that had her seeing stars. He slipped two fingers inside her, curling them just right, and she came undone, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave.

“Fuck, Lando!” she cried, her body convulsing with pleasure as he continued to lick and suck at her, drawing out her release until she was left boneless and panting.

When he finally pulled away, his lips were glistening with her wetness, and his eyes were filled with desire. He crawled up her body, his cock pressing against her thigh as he kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against her lips, his voice fierce and possessive. “All mine.”

She nodded, her heart swelling with emotion as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. “Yours,” she agreed, her voice trembling with the weight of her feelings.

There was no turning back now. The tension that had been simmering between them for months had finally boiled over, and neither of them could—or would—put out the fire. They were consumed by each other, lost in a whirlwind of passion and desire that showed no signs of slowing down.

Lando positioned himself between her legs, his cock pressing against her entrance as he looked down at her, his eyes searching hers for any hesitation. There was none. Only want, need, and something deeper that neither of them was ready to put into words yet.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he promised, his voice husky with desire.

And then he was inside her, filling her completely as she gasped, her nails digging into his back. He started slow, allowing her time to adjust to him, but it wasn’t long before the pace quickened, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

“You feel incredible,” he groaned, his forehead pressed against hers as he thrust into her, each movement driving her higher and higher.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, could only feel. The way he filled her, the way he touched her, the way he looked at her—it was overwhelming in the best possible way. She clung to him, her cries of pleasure mingling with his groans as they moved together, chasing the ecstasy that only the other could provide.

And when it finally came, it hit them both like a freight train, their bodies shuddering as they reached the peak together. Lando’s name spilled from her lips like a prayer, and hers from his like a promise, as they tumbled over the edge into blissful oblivion.

For a moment, they simply lay there, tangled together and breathing heavily, the world outside forgotten. But as reality began to creep back in, Lando rolled onto his side, pulling her with him so that she was nestled against his chest.

“Tell me this is real,” he murmured, his voice soft but urgent as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.

She looked up at him, her heart aching with the depth of her emotions. “It’s real,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s always been real.”

He kissed her then, softly, tenderly, as if sealing the truth of her words. And as they lay there, wrapped up in each other, the lines between fantasy and reality blurred, leaving only the undeniable truth: they were meant for each other.

[yoitsjay]

This is more cause the Epic musical ended, but can you do like Jason x Reader based on the final song “Would you fall in love with me again” like Jason returns to reader after Jokers gone, he’s fought to return to her while feeling like he’s no longer human, reader arguing how long shes missed him and he obviously still cares. You can add smut if you want but i feel like Jason needs an Odysseus ending.

EPIC THE MUSCICAL MENTION?

Your Still Human

Summary: throughout everything she waited. He fought for her, she waited for the moment he returned to her side. Now he was home, and he didn't believe that she still loved him, despite all he's done. But she can make him believe.

Warnings: slight angst, Jason todd backstory shit, arguing, reader slaps him into reality (literally), light smut, not really descriptive.

Word Count: 1931

A/n: I feel like whenever anyone says "you can write smut if you want" is a very passive aggressive way to say they want to fuck the character they requested. LMAO, if u want smut, ASK FOR IT, and be specific if u want smth special. 😃

Gotham City never sleeps, not even under the weight of snowflakes that dust the cracked pavement and the jagged rooftops. The air was sharp tonight, biting against your cheeks as you tightened your scarf, shivering in the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp. Winter in Gotham had always felt heavy, oppressive even, but this one weighed on you differently.

Two years. Two years since the night Jason died.

The thought lingered, as unwelcome as the gusts of wind that snuck through the gaps in your coat. The Joker had taken him—your best friend, your love, your anchor. And while the world had kept turning, the city humming along with its chaos and crime, your own clock had stopped that night.

You stood at the edge of the East End, the skyline swallowed by a curtain of falling snow. Somewhere out there, Bruce was probably brooding in the shadows, and Dick might be chasing down a lead. But you? You couldn’t bring yourself to move. This corner of the city felt quieter, like even Gotham’s perpetual noise knew better than to intrude on your grief.

In your pocket, your gloved fingers curled around a worn photograph. The edges were frayed from how many times you’d unfolded it, staring at Jason’s crooked grin, the light in his eyes that had always seemed so unshakable. You could almost hear his voice in the silence, teasing you for standing out in the cold without gloves—though, this time, you were wearing them.

A crack in the snow behind you startled you from your thoughts. You turned sharply, heart thudding, but it was only the wind sweeping an empty soda can across the ground. Still, the moment reminded you of where you were—Gotham wasn’t safe, not even for someone who had loved a Robin.

You sighed and tucked the photo back into your pocket, pulling your hood up against the cold. Jason would’ve told you to keep moving, to stay sharp. And though your grief threatened to anchor you in place, you took a step forward.

The city was still alive, and so were you. For now, that would have to be enough.

you made your way from the side of the building and back to the door that leads to the staircase. You took your time walking down, keeping one earbud in, one out so that you could still listen to the music you enjoyed, while staying vigilant to the dangers.

The Wayne’s were your family, through and through, especially after that night, you knew they would always have some form of eye on you, whether it was Oracle through city surveillance cameras, or one of Bruce's adopted menagerie of children making sure you got home safe in the evening.

You finally arrived at your apartment building, though as you approached your door, you quickly realized something was off. The door was ajar, but there was no sign of forced entry, no cracked, splintered or broken door frame or handle, no scratches.

Tentatively, you pulled out the pocket knife that alwaysat heavy in your left pocket. It was a silvered blade, short but deadly sharp, and the handle was red, polished wood and resin. A goft from Jason, before he had died. he made you promise to use it if your life was ever in danger, to fuck bruces no killing rule if it meant you stayed alive.

you promised you would.

You approached the apartment, knife gripped tightly in your dominant hand as you slowly pushed open the door, glancing around the darkness of your loft. It was a very open concept, but you loved it. You could easily see up the stairs to where your bedroom was, and from the loft you could see below to the living room and kitchen.

The large windows provided bright moonlight, which illuminated the apartment. At least it wasnt pitch black.

Cautiously, you moved further into the appartment, checking the corners, sticking close to the wall as you studyied the living area, seeing nothing out of place, nothing turned over or destroyed. Alright, not a robbery. But that didnt mean it was any less dangerous.

You heard some shuffling, coming from above, on the lofted area where your bedroom was. You narrowed your eyes. You should be smart, and leave the appartment and call Dick, Tim or Bruce to come investigate, and make sure it was safe…

but then an oddly familiar scent hit your nose as you crept up the staircase, keeping the knife firmly gripped as you slowly poked your head over the last step on the staircase, keeping low as you spotted a shadowed figure seated on your bed, looking through an album.

your private album with polaroid pictures you took of \jason, and yourself, when you were both kids and he was alive.

Slowly you rose up, and you flicked on the bedroom light.

then your knife clattered to the ground.

Familiar eyes stared up at you, though once a deep blue, they now shone almost tealish green in color, though, perhaps that suited him more.

“Jason”.

Your voice flooded the area first, breath stolen away as a diffrent, but familiar man slowly rosr to his feet, already towering over you, even from a few feet away.

“You didnt move out.”

he voiced observantly, glancing around the loft apartment. “new furniture though, i like it.” He added, his gaze falling back to you, and your dumbfound expression.

“Your dead.”

“Lazerus pit.”

“ah…”

Silence once more, until he took a step forward, you flinched, but didnt moce back as he slowly, cautiously approached, before crouching down and grabbing the knife that had fallen from your hands.

“Have you used it?”

He asked, and you shook your head.

“Only to peel an apple. don’t think that counts.” you muttered softly, eyes following his movements as he stood back up, closing the knife before handing it back to you… tentitively you reached out, though rather than grabbing the knife, you grased his hand.

He was real, here, standing right in front of you.

You let out a sob, and your knees began to buckle, but his arms were quickly wrapped around you, and he was holding you close, his face, scarred, older, buried into your hair, the scent not changed since he saw you last.

“Y/n…” He trailed off, his voice cracking as he squeezed you gently in his arms. “i tried to come sooner, you were the only thing on my mind- im so sorry.” Jason whispered, feeling you slowly wrap your arms around his neck, hands sliding into his soft, black, and now white streaked hair.

“is it really you?” You asked, voice cracking as you pilled back, looking into his teal green eyes, moving your hand down to his chee, thumb brushing over the J shaped scar in his cheek, causing you to from as he flinched slightly, though didnt pull back.

“You look diffrent, older… broken”

Jason frowned, his eyes searching yours before he removed his arms from around you and he pulled back, looking out of the large windows, the moonlight illuninating the haunted look in his eyes.

“Ill be honest Princess… im not the man you fell in love with.”

He breathed out in a chuckle, slipping his hands into his pockets as his eyebrows furrowed.

“im not kind, gentle or- any of that bullshit you knew…”

He trailed off, trying not to notice the way your frown deepend, and how tears glistened your cheeks.

“Ive done so many bad things… trying to get back to you, to my world… things i- i cant take back…”

His worlds trailed off, and he glanced in your direction as you approached, sliding your hand up his arm, to his bicep.

“what have you done?”

you asked, voice soft, quiet. you were afraid it would break if you spoke up any louder.

“i-”

Jason paused, frowning as he looked away, balling his hands into fists within his pockets.

“I’ve killed people darlin’- a lot of people. i was so angry, i left a trail of blood everywhere i went… but my goal was always you, princess.” He replied, his voice cracking slightly as he looked down at you.

“If that's true.” you spoke up tentatively, “Then take your knife back, and slit my throat.”

you demanded it so sternly, and his eyes flew wide open as he took a step back.

“What?” he barked out, glaring down at you. “Why the fuck would you say something like that Y/n? i would never hurt you, i love-”

His words were cut off as your hands grabbed his face, and you pulled him down, smashing your lips against his.

Jason quickly melted into it, his muscular arms wrapping around you, holding you firmly against him as he relished in the feeling of your lips against his.

Fuck, he whined when you pulled away.

“Only the Jason Todd I knew would say that, would love me so unconditionally that he killed anyone in his path just to get back to me.”

You breathed out brushing some white strands of hair from his eyes, so you could take in all the trauma, the sadness locked away behind them.

“I love you, i missed you- and don’t you dare call yourself a monster, Jason Todd, i'm not Bruce, i don't care how many you’ve killed, it just means there's one less criminal in the world. I know damn well you still care about me.” you stated sternly.

he was silent for a little, holding you, taking your words in, before he chuckled, and his eyes closed as he pressed his forehead to yours. Muttering an ‘im sorry’

“Theres nothing to be sorry about.”

You replied, smiling when he simply snorted, and said nothing else… until he did.

“I need you.”

He whispered, and you raised an eyebrow, studying his facial features, the way his bottom lip quivered slightly.

“You have me me Jas-”

“No Y/n- i need you.”

He whimpered.

he fucking whimpered.

Your face heated up significantly, though he made no sudden movements as you continued running your fingers through his soft black locks.

“Oka-”

You couldn't even finish your sentence because his lips were already locked against yours, his arms under your ass as he hoisted you up with ease and spun you around before placing you on the bed, stealing your breath away with every kiss he stole from you, his own soft, needy grunts already filling the room as you felt him grind his massive bulge into the plushness of your thigh, one arm wrapped around said thigh to keep it secured as he rutted against you.

“Jason-” You managed to grunt out between every kiss, letting out a soft moan as he nipped at the skin of your neck.

“You're mine.” He growled out, like he was fucking feral.

“m’ never gunna leave you again princess, never- fuck- will you let me use that pretty pussy? yeah? Let me claim you?” he grunted with each particularly rough grind against your thigh.

Words and sounds mingled into one as the night progressed, the open apartment door left forgotten as he all but consumed you.

In the end you laid in his arms, letting him hold you as tightly as he needed to as cum leaked from between your legs, bruises littered all across your skin. But Jason was back, your prince of gotham was home. safe in your arms.

if it were you who died, and crawled back to life…

you would have destroyed the whole world just to see him again.

Tag list:

All: @francesfarhadi

Batfam tag:

Jason Todd tag:

Jason todd smut tag:

[hanniewho]

────୨You're The Warmth In My Cold World ৎ────

⋆˚࿔ Summary: Vi found a letter from her younger self and realized how broken she had become, leaving you to make her feel loved and human again.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Notes: I actually wrote this yesterday during family dinner, and it's a bit rushed, so I apologize for that 😭

𐙚˙✧˖° Words: 6.1k

༘ ⋆｡ ˚ Warnings: Soft dom Vi, Fingering, Body worshipping, Comfort sex, Nipple play, Squirting, Multiple orgasm, Crying after sex.

⋆✦ Pairings: Pitfighter! Vi x Afab reader

The snowfall outside was a stark contrast to the warm, candlelit room where Vi sat, her eyes glued to the pages of an old, worn-out book. It was a tale of valor and passion, battles won and lost. She felt a peculiar kinship to the characters, their struggles mirroring her own, but in a world of magic and grandeur rather than the gritty streets of Zaun. The fireplace crackled, casting a gentle glow over the worn leather armchair that had become her sanctuary amidst the city's hustle.

Her mind wandered to the pit fights she had once dominated, the roar of the crowd now replaced by the distant sound of carolers. The Yuletide season had brought a strange sort of peace to the city that she hadn't felt in a long time. The scent of pine and cinnamon filled the air, and she found herself missing the simple joys she had long ago forsaken.

As she turned a page, a letter slipped out from between the book's aged sheets. It was addressed to her, the handwriting unmistakably hers. She hadn't written it. With a furrowed brow, she unfolded the parchment, revealing a note from her younger self. It spoke of dreams and aspirations, of a life beyond the steel cage. She had forgotten about the girl who had once hoped for something more, lost in the haze of blood and sweat that had become her existence.

In a warm, candlelit room, Vi finds a mysterious letter from her past in a book. It stirs feelings of nostalgia and forgotten aspirations, juxtaposed with the peaceful Christmas ambiance outside.

The words stung, a stark reminder of what she had become. Vi's heart felt a pang of regret, a feeling she had buried deep beneath the layers of her hardened exterior. The scent of the book's ink and the crackle of the fire brought back memories of her youth, a time when the world was a canvas of possibilities rather than a battleground of survival. Her eyes grew wet, blurring the ink on the page as she read the innocent dreams she had scribbled down so long ago.

Suddenly, she felt your arms wrapped around her from behind. A warm embrace that was as surprising as it was comforting. Her body tensed at first, instinctively bracing for a blow that never came. Instead, she felt a gentle squeeze, and the soft whisper of your breath against her neck, "You're not alone in this, Vi."

Her heart skipped a beat. She had never allowed anyone to get this close to her, not since she had left the safety of her old life behind. The walls she had built around herself trembled at the touch, unsure how to respond to the tender gesture. She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of your embrace seep into her. The room grew quiet, save for the crackling fire and the soft patter of snowflakes outside the window.

Touched by the letter from her past, Vi is surprised by your comforting embrace, which brings back feelings of vulnerability and a sense of companionship she thought she had lost.

Your hands rested on her shoulders, gently rubbing the tension that had knotted there. Vi leaned back into your chest.She felt your breath on the nape of her neck, a sensation that sent shivers down her spine. It was a feeling she had almost forgotten, one that didn't come with the bite of a knife or the crunch of bones. Your presence was gentle, soothing, and she found herself letting go of the pain that had held her hostage for so long.

The warmth of your body against hers brought a blush to her cheeks, and she swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in her throat. She hadn't allowed herself to be vulnerable like this in years, not since she had become the feared pitfighter of the underground. Your touch was a promise of something different, something she hadn't dared to hope for. It was as if your arms had cracked open the heavy door to a room she had locked away, filled with the warmth of Christmas past.

Vi took a deep breath, the scent of your perfume mixing with the aroma of the pine and cinnamon, creating an intoxicating blend that seemed to melt the ice around her heart. She could feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against her back, a gentle reminder that she wasn't the only one in the room. The words from the letter echoed in her mind, and she wondered if perhaps you had seen the same dreams she had once had.

Vi experiences a rare moment of vulnerability and comfort in your embrace, feeling a connection she had long forgotten. The warmth and tenderness of your touch opens a door to her past, suggesting a shared understanding of her once-innocent dreams.

Her body began to relax, muscles uncoiling from their defensive stance. She allowed herself to be drawn into your embrace, leaning back into the comfort you offered. The warmth of your touch spread through her, reaching places that had been cold and empty for so long. It was as if you had lit a candle in the dark caverns of her soul, casting shadows on forgotten desires. Your hands continued to move in soothing circles, working out the knots of tension and pain that had become a part of her.

With a tentative hand, Vi reached up and placed it on your forearm, the warmth of your skin searing against her own. She felt your pulse quicken, a response to her touch, and she took it as a silent acknowledgment of the connection forming between you. Your arms tightened around her slightly, and she felt the firm press of your lips against the top of her head, a gesture that seemed to hold more meaning than words could convey.

For a moment, she was lost in the feeling of your embrace, the warmth of your breath on her neck, the steady beat of your heart. The words from the letter swam in her mind, and she found herself whispering, "I didn't know I could still want... this."

Vi's body relaxes as she accepts your comforting touch, allowing the warmth of your embrace to fill her. The connection strengthens as she reaches out to you, feeling your pulse and the gentle kiss on her forehead, hinting at deeper feelings and shared longings.

You pulled away slightly, just enough to look into her eyes, and she could see the understanding in your gaze. Without a word, you leaned in, your lips brushing against hers in a tender kiss that seemed to carry all the unspoken promises of the season. The taste of you was like the first sip of hot cocoa on a cold winter's day, sweet and comforting, filling her with a warmth she hadn't felt in what felt like an eternity.

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't pull away. As your kiss deepened, she felt the thawing of something within her, an emotion she had long thought lost to the frost of her life.

The room grew warmer, the crackle of the fireplace now a distant backdrop to the symphony of your breathing mingling with hers. Your hands moved from her shoulders to her waist, pulling her closer, and she didn't resist. The leather armchair creaked under the sudden shift in weight, but neither of you cared. The chill of the winter outside was forgotten as you both found solace in the warmth of each other's embrace.

A silent understanding passes between you and Vi as you share a comforting kiss. She feels the warmth of human connection, her frozen emotions beginning to thaw as she touches your heartbeat. The room's ambiance intensifies as your intimacy deepens, leaving the cold outside world forgotten.

Vi's eyes remained closed, savoring the sensation of your arms around her. It had been so long since she had felt anything other than pain and fear that this sudden affection overwhelmed her. She leaned back into you, her head nestling into the crook of your neck a sensation that was both foreign and comforting.

Your hands began to trace patterns along her arms, sending sparks of electricity through her body. She hadn't been touched with such gentleness in what felt like a lifetime. The weight of your embrace was a stark contrast to the bruising grips she was accustomed to in the fighting pits. Each caress felt like a gentle promise, a whisper that she could let go of the burdens she carried. Her breathing grew shallow, matching the rhythm of your own as your kiss grew more insistent.

The fire cast a warm, flickering light over your entwined forms, painting your skin in shades of gold and amber. The room grew hazy with the heat of your shared passion, the candles casting shadows that danced along the walls as if in celebration. Vi felt her body responding to your touch, the years of solitude and pain momentarily forgotten in the face of this newfound connection. Your kiss grew deeper, your tongue exploring the recesses of her mouth as if seeking the essence of her very soul.

Overwhelmed by your affection, Vi relaxes into your gentle embrace. Your tender caresses contrast with her harsh past, offering her a brief reprieve from pain and fear. The warmth and safety of the moment ignite a passionate response within her, hinting at a potential future of healing and love.

Her own hands grew bold, sliding up to tangle in your hair, the soft strands a stark contrast to the roughened calluses on her palms. The scent of your perfume grew stronger, mingling with the sweetness of her own arousal as she felt her body begin to arch into yours. The armchair groaned in protest, but neither of you paid it any mind. Your hands roamed lower, caressing the curve of her waist, the firmness of her hips, and she gasped against your mouth.

You broke the kiss, your eyes searching hers for any hint of hesitation. Finding none, you leaned in and kissed along her jaw, down her neck, leaving a trail of fire in your wake. Vi shivered, her breath hitching as you reached the sensitive spot just above her collarbone. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, yet she didn't want you to stop.

Your hands moved up to cup her breasts, feeling the soft mounds through the fabric of her shirt. Her nipples pebbled under your touch, and she couldn't hold back a soft moan. You took it as an invitation, your thumbs brushing against the peaks, eliciting a gasp from her parted lips. The sound was like music to your ears, a sweet symphony of desire that you hadn't heard in far too long.

As passion ignites, Vi's hands explore your hair while your gentle touches continue to evoke a sense of safety and yearning. Your kisses travel down her neck, eliciting moans of pleasure. Her body reacts to your intimate caresses, revealing a side of her that has long been hidden beneath the armor of her past.

With a deft move, you pulled the fabric over her head, revealing her nakedness to the flickering firelight. Her breasts were full and round, the dark areolae a stark contrast to her pale skin. "You're so fucking gorgeous." You said before took one of her breasts in your mouth, sucking gently as she arched back with a cry of pleasure. Your hands slid down to her waist, unbuckling her belt with a practiced ease that spoke of countless similar moments.

Her hand traveled up the back of your shirt and pull it off, her fingertips tracing the contours of your spine. You shivered at the sensation, your own body responding to her touch. With a sudden urgency, she reached around and unhooked your bra, freeing your breasts to the cool air. The sight of them, heavy and full, made Vi's breath hitch in her throat.

Her own hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer as she stood, the armchair abandoned behind her. You took a step back, allowing her to guide you towards the soft, inviting bed that stood in the corner of the room. The mattress dipped as you sat down, Vi's eyes never leaving yours as she stepped out of her boots and pants, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor.

The candles cast a soft, flickering glow over your bodies as you stood before each other, both naked and exposed. The flames danced in her eyes, a mix of hunger and something softer, something she hadn't seen in a very long time. Your skin was like silk under her touch, and she marveled at the difference from the rough, scarred flesh she was accustomed to feeling in the pits.

With trembling hands, she reached out and traced the outline of your breasts, feeling the weight of them in her palms. Your nipples were like pebbles, hard and eager, begging for attention. Vi leaned down and took one into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the sensitive peak. You moaned, the sound echoing in the room, and she felt a thrill of power at being the cause of such pleasure.

Her teeth grazed the tender flesh, and you gasped, your hand shooting up to grab the back of her head, pressing her closer. The taste of you was like a drug, a sweet elixir that she hadn't known she craved. Her hands slid down to your hips, her nails digging into the soft skin as she felt your legs part, inviting her closer.

The bed whispered a sweet lullaby as you lay back, pulling Vi with you. The weight of her body was a welcome pressure, the heat of her skin a stark contrast to the coldness of the world outside. Your legs entwined around hers, pulling her in tight as if afraid she might disappear if you let go.

Her kisses grew more fervent, moving from your neck to your chest, her tongue tracing the delicate line of your collarbone. She took a nipple in her mouth, and the sensation was like lightning, shooting straight to your core. You arched your back, your hips bucking involuntarily as she bit down gently, eliciting a cry of pleasure from your lips.

Her hand trailed down your stomach, the softness of your skin giving way to the damp heat between your thighs. She found your clit, already swollen and begging for her touch. With a deft flick, she sent a wave of pleasure crashing over you, making your eyes roll back in your head. Your legs tightened around her, your body a symphony of want and need.

Vi's own desire was a living thing, pulsing and demanding. She straddled you, her thighs pressing against yours, feeling the wetness of her own arousal.The sight of your flushed face, the way your body responded to her touch, it was a heady feeling that she never wanted to end. Her hand slid lower, one finger dipping into your slick heat, making you gasp.

Your hips rose to meet her, and she began to move her hand in a slow, rhythmic motion that made your breath catch. Your hands roamed her back, pulling her closer, as if you could absorb her very essence. The sensation was overwhelming, a crescendo of pleasure that grew with each passing moment.

Her eyes locked onto yours, a silent question hanging between you. With a nod, she leaned down and captured your mouth in a kiss that was as fierce as it was tender. Her hand never ceased its movement, and you could feel the tension coiling within you, a tight spring threatening to snap at any moment.

The world outside the window was lost to the swirling snow, but in here, in this warm cocoon of desire, there was nothing but the two of you. Her hand moved with increasing urgency, her fingers dancing over your clit, teasing and stroking until you were on the edge of the precipice. Your nails dug into her shoulders, your body arching off the bed as the first waves of orgasm washed over you.

The room was alive with the sounds of your muffled cries and the slick wetness of skin on skin. Vi felt your body tighten around her, the muscles in your thighs clenching as you came, your hips grinding against her hand. The intensity of your climax was like a punch to her gut, a reminder of what she had been missing in the cold, lonely world of the pits.

Her own need grew more urgent, her clit throbbing in time with your heartbeat. She slid a second finger into you, feeling the walls of your pussy tighten around her. The sensation was intoxicating, a potent mix of power and vulnerability that made her head swim. Your eyes closed, your mouth open in a silent scream, your body lost to the rapture she had brought forth.

Vi watched you, drinking in the sight of your pleasure, feeling it resonate deep within her own core. Her thumb found your clit again, pressing down as she began to fuck you with her hand, her own arousal growing with each of your whimpers. The candlelight danced across your skin, casting shadows that played over the contours of your body, making you seem almost ethereal.

Your eyes flew open, locking onto hers as a second, more powerful orgasm ripped through you. Your nails raked down her back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She felt the wetness of your release, the warmth of it coating her hand, and she groaned into your mouth, the sound lost in the symphony of your cries.

Vi felt a primal urge to claim you, to show you the depth of her need. She pulled away from your embrace, her eyes dark with desire as she pushed you onto your back. Your legs fell open, welcoming her in, and she took a moment to appreciate the beauty laid out before her. Your skin was flushed, your chest heaving, and your eyes were glazed with passion.

With a growl that was more animal than human, she bent down and took your other nipple in her mouth, teasing it with her teeth as her hand returned to your wetness. Your body responded immediately, your hips lifting off the bed, silently begging for more. She chuckled against your skin, the sound vibrating through your body and sending another shiver of pleasure through you.

Then she lowered herself so that both of your pussies met, the warm, slick flesh pressing together in a dance of desire. The sensation was unlike anything you had ever felt, a perfect melding of passion and need. Your hands moved to her ass, urging her closer as she began to grind against you, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your core.

The heat between you was palpable, the air thick with the scent of arousal. Your hips moved in tandem, a silent choreography of want as your bodies sought out the perfect rhythm. The slickness of your skin made it easy for her to slide against you, the sound of your wetness echoing through the room. It was a symphony of need, each movement a crescendo that built upon the last.

Her eyes never left yours, the fire in them burning brighter with every stroke. Your breaths grew ragged, matching the tempo of your hearts as your bodies moved in a slow, sensual grind. The friction grew, a delicious pressure building at the apex of your connection. It was as if you were two flints striking together, sparks flying as you sought the sweet release that only this union could provide.

The feeling of your wetness sliding against hers was a revelation to VI. It was a dance of desire she had never known, a gentle battle of passion that was as intoxicating as any fight she'd ever had. Her movements grew more urgent, hips rolling in a steady rhythm that made your toes curl. The warmth of your skin, the softness of your folds, it was a stark contrast to the cold steel she'd become accustomed to.

Your legs wrapped around her waist, pulling her in closer, as if trying to become one. The sensation of your bodies moving together was a silent symphony, each gasp and whimper a note in a melody of lust. Vi felt the walls of her own desire crumbling, the dam of her control threatening to break under the relentless pressure of your need.

Her own hips began to buck against yours, the friction between your folds growing more intense with each movement. The feeling of your wetness coating her, the softness of your skin, was a revelation. Her thumb found your clit, circling it with a fierce determination that matched the rhythm of her hips. Your eyes grew wide, your mouth opening in silent plea, and she knew you were close.

With a growl, she increased her pace, her body moving against yours in a symphony of passion. Your legs tightened around her waist, pulling her in even closer, and she could feel your heat building, the tension coiling like a spring ready to snap. The room was filled with the sound of your breaths, the slickness of your skin, the gentle slap of flesh against flesh.

Her eyes never left yours, the fire in them burning brighter with every stroke. You could feel the climax building, a crescendo that threatened to overwhelm you both. Your nails dug into her back, leaving red trails on her skin, a silent plea for more. The friction grew, a delicious pressure that built between your legs, a storm brewing in the center of your being.

Vi's movements grew more urgent, her hips grinding against yours, the heat between you like a living, breathing entity. You felt the first tremors of orgasm, a delicate tremble that grew into a quake of pleasure. Your legs tightened around her waist, pulling her closer, your body begging for the release she promised.

The sensation of her wetness sliding against yours was unlike anything you had ever experienced. It was a symphony of sensation, a dance of desire that seemed to resonate in every nerve ending. Her hand remained between your legs, the pad of her thumb pressing insistently against your clit as she watched the passion play out on your face.

Your eyes grew glazed, the candlelight flickering in them like stars in a night sky. "Vi," you murmured, your voice thick with need, "I want this, I want you, forever." The words slurred together in your mouth, a testament to the intoxicating effect she had on you.

Her own eyes searched yours, a mix of surprise and something deeper, something that made your heart stutter in your chest. Her movements grew more deliberate, her body grinding against yours with a fierce tenderness that spoke of a hunger that mirrored your own. The room spun, the candles a kaleidoscope of color and light, as you both lost yourself in the moment.

Your breaths grew ragged, the words you had spoken echoing in the air, a declaration of something that felt so right it was terrifying. Vi felt your legs tighten around her waist, the heat of your pussy against hers a siren's call she couldn't resist. She whispered back, "You're mine, forever," the words a promise that seemed to resonate through the very fabric of the room.

Her movements grew more urgent, the slickness of your arousal making it easy to glide against you. Your hips met hers, the friction setting off sparks that seemed to ignite every nerve in your bodies. The room was a whirlwind of sensation, the only anchor being the fiery gaze that held yours. The candle flames danced in your eyes, a reflection of the passion that burned between you.

As you reached the peak of your pleasure, Vi felt your body tighten around hers. A sudden, unexpected rush of liquid warmth coated her lower abdomen and the tops of her thighs as she came down from her high. You had squirted, the force of your climax painting a picture of ecstasy on her skin. The sensation was shocking, a reminder of how intimately connected you were in this moment.

Instantly, you felt your cheeks flush with heat, and your hands shot up to cover your face in an adorable display of embarrassment. Vi, caught in the aftermath of her own orgasm, froze for a moment, unsure of how to react. Then she chuckled, the sound rich and warm in the quiet room. "Don't be shy," she murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. "It's a sign of how much you enjoyed it."

Her own laugh was a gentle rumble that seemed to vibrate through the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Slowly, you lowered your hands, your eyes meeting hers again. There was something in her gaze that made your heart flutter, something that went beyond the physical connection you'd just shared. It was as if you had bared your soul to her in that one moment of vulnerability.

Vi reached up, her thumb gently brushing away a tear that had escaped your eye. "Don't be embarrassed," she murmured, her voice softer than you had ever heard it before. "This is what happens when two people connect on a deeper level."

You felt your cheeks heat up even more, but the warmth in her gaze was reassuring. With trembling hands, you reached out to touch her, your fingers tracing the contours of her face. "I've never felt anything like this," you admitted, your voice a whisper that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

Vi's expression softened, the fiery desire in her eyes giving way to something much softer. She leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, the gesture filled with a tenderness that was almost painful in its beauty. "You're not alone in this," she murmured against your skin. "We're in this together." She said as she laid down beside you.

The words seemed to resonate through you, unlocking something deep within your heart that you had long kept hidden. Suddenly, you felt the weight of your emotions threatening to spill over. Your face grew hot, and you buried it in your hands, trying to hide the tears that had started to fall. The warmth of your own embarrassment was a stark contrast to the coolness of your skin, the reality of your vulnerability crashing over you like a wave.

Vi, sensing your distress, pulled you closer, her strong arms encircling you in a gentle embrace. "Hey," she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to your soul. "It's okay. You don't have to hide from me." Her words were a gentle coaxing, a promise of safety in a world that had shown you so little of it.

Your body trembled as you let yourself be held, the dam of your emotions giving way to the warmth of her touch. The tears fell freely now, soaking into the pillow beneath your cheek. You felt her kiss the top of your head, a sweet benediction that seemed to soothe the rawest parts of you. Her hand stroked your back, a gentle rhythm that mirrored the beat of her heart.

"Shh," she whispered, her voice a soft lullaby in the candlelit room. "You're safe with me. I'll always protect you." Her words were a balm to the bruised parts of your soul, a promise that seemed too good to be true. But in this moment, with her arms around you, it was easy to believe.

You felt your body relax into her embrace, the tension of the day, of your life, seeping out of you like water through a sieve. The warmth of her skin against yours was like a warm summer's day, a stark contrast to the cold, harsh world outside. Your tears slowed, the sobs subsiding into quiet hiccups.

Vi's hand moved from your back to your cheek, her thumb wiping away the last traces of your tears. "Look at me," she said softly. You lifted your gaze to hers, the candlelight playing in her eyes, making them twinkle like distant stars. "You are not alone. I am here."

Her words seemed to echo in the quiet room, resonating in the very air you breathed. You searched her gaze, looking for any hint of deceit or insincerity, but all you found was warmth and a fierce determination that made your heart swell. "Vi," you whispered, your voice hoarse with emotion. "Thank you."

Vi's expression softened further, and she leaned down to press her lips against yours in a kiss that was as gentle as it was passionate. The taste of your tears mingled with hers, a bittersweet symphony of pain and comfort, of fear and hope. Your arms wrapped around her neck, holding her close as if you could pull her into the very core of your being.

As your kiss deepened, she felt the last vestiges of your fear melt away, leaving only a smoldering ember of desire in its place. Your legs entwined with hers, your bodies fitting together like two halves of a whole. The candlelight painted shadows across the room, flickering over your skin like a lover's caress.

With a mischievous smile, Vi pulled away, her eyes shimmering with a warmth that seemed to belie the harshness of her past. She leaned in and booped the tip of your nose with the pad of her finger, a playful gesture that made you giggle despite the intensity of the moment. The sound was like a bell in the quiet room, a reminder of the joy that could be found even in the darkest of places.

The sudden playfulness was a welcome reprieve from the passionate intensity that had just passed between you. Her finger lingered on your nose for a brief moment before she leaned in to press her lips to yours again, the kiss a sweet blend of laughter and love. The warmth of her smile was a beacon of light in the candlelit darkness, a promise of happiness to come.

Vi pulled you closer, her strong arms wrapping around your shoulders and her legs entwined with yours. She began to pepper your face with feather-light kisses, each one a tender declaration of her affection. Your cheeks, your eyelids, the tip of your nose – no part of your face was spared from her adoration. The feeling was overwhelming, a gentle reminder that there could be sweetness in the world, even for someone as damaged as her.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned into her touch, your breaths mingling with hers. Each kiss was like a gentle summer rain, soothing your soul and nurturing the fragile blossom of hope that had begun to grow within you. Her lips danced across your skin, a silent ballet of love and comfort that seemed to melt away the years of pain and solitude you had endured.

When she finally pulled away, the warmth of her smile was like the first light of dawn breaking over the horizon of a new day. You felt reborn in the softness of her embrace, your heart pounding in your chest like the drums of a triumphant army. "Merry Christmas," she murmured against your ear, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

You leaned back into her, your heart feeling as if it might burst from your chest. Her hand stroked your hair, her touch soothing and gentle. "Merry Christmas, Vi," you whispered back, the words filled with a warmth that seemed to warm the very air around you.

Her fingers traced the line of your jaw, her thumb brushing against your lower lip. "You know," she said, her voice a low purr, "I've never had anyone to share Christmas with before." There was a hint of wonder in her eyes, as if she couldn't quite believe that she had found someone who could see beyond the scars and the armor she wore.

You nodded, snuggling closer into her embrace. "Neither have I, not like this." Your voice was soft, filled with the contentment that only came from being truly seen and accepted by someone else. "It's been... amazing."

Vi's hand continued to stroke your hair, the gentle rhythm lulling you into a state of pure bliss. Her thumb traced the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "I didn't know it could be like this," she murmured, her voice a gentle rumble that seemed to resonate in the very marrow of your bones. "So... good."

You nodded, nuzzling closer to her chest. The steady beat of her heart was a comforting lullaby that seemed to sync with your own erratic pulse. Her warmth was a stark contrast to the cold you had known for so long, a reminder that there was more to life than pain and fear. "Neither did I," you admitted, your voice a soft whisper that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

Vi's arms tightened around you, her chest rising and falling with each breath she took. You could feel the warmth of her skin seeping into yours, chasing away the last remnants of the cold that had once been your constant companion. Her hand continued to stroke your hair, the gentle motion a silent promise that she would never let you go.

The candles flickered in the quiet room, casting a soft glow over your intertwined bodies. The shadows they painted on the walls danced in time with the crackling fireplace, creating a serene, intimate atmosphere that seemed to envelop you both. The scent of your mingled arousal lingered in the air, a testament to the passion that had just transpired between you.

Vi's gaze was fixed on you, her eyes shimmering with a warmth that seemed to belie the harshness of her past. She whispered, her voice barely above a breath, "You're the warmth in my cold world." The words hung in the air like a gentle embrace, wrapping around your heart and filling you with a warmth that seemed to spread through your very soul.

Her declaration was a stark contrast to the cold, hard steel that had been her armor for so long. Yet, here she was, laying bare her most vulnerable truth in the candlelit sanctity of your shared space. The flickering flames cast an intimate glow over the two of you, a visual metaphor for the fire that had been ignited between you.

Her eyes searched yours, the depth of her words reflected in their emerald pools. The warmth of her gaze was a stark contrast to the frigidness of the blizzard raging outside, a beacon of hope that pierced through the shadows of your own fears and insecurities. You felt your heart swell in response, the warmth of her words filling you with a sense of belonging that you had never known before.

The room grew quiet, save for the crackling of the fireplace and the soft sounds of your breathing. You reached up to cup her cheek, feeling the roughness of her skin under your palm. "And you're the light in my darkness," you murmured back, the truth of your words resonating in the very core of your being.

Her eyes searched yours, a silent question lingering in their depths. "What are you saying?" she asked, her voice a low, sultry rumble that seemed to vibrate through you. You swallowed hard, your heart racing. "I'm saying that I want to be with you, Vi. Not just tonight, but always."

Vi's expression grew serious, her eyes searching your face for any hint of doubt. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice tinged with a vulnerability that was rare for her. "I'm not like other people. I'm... broken."

You shook your head, your voice firm. "You're not broken, Vi. You're strong. You're the warmth in my cold world." The words slipped from your lips like a warm embrace, wrapping around her heart and filling her with a sense of belonging that she hadn't felt in years.

Her eyes searched yours, the candlelight casting a warm glow over the room. "I never knew it could be like this," she murmured, her voice a soft rumble that seemed to echo the tumultuous emotions swirling within her. "To have someone who... who sees me."

You nodded, your own eyes filled with a soft understanding that seemed to pierce the very armor that had protected her heart for so long. "I see you, Vi," you whispered, your voice a gentle caress. "All of you."

Her breath caught in her throat, the words striking a chord deep within her. For a moment, she said nothing, the weight of your declaration hanging in the air like a warm embrace. Then, she leaned in, her mouth brushing against yours in a kiss that was as gentle as it was fierce. "And you're the warmth in my cold world," she murmured against your lips.

[shybluebirdninja]

On a Cliff

Summary: You and Logan are having passionate sex on a breathtaking cliff, completely lost in the moment and the stunning view around you.

Pairings          : Logan Howlett x Gf!Reader Note                : smut

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting vibrant hues of orange and pink across the sky.

You stood at the edge of the cliff, the wind tousling your hair and sending shivers down your spine, but the breathtaking view was worth every chill.

The ocean roared below, waves crashing violently against the rocks, and a part of you felt like you were standing at the edge of the world.

Logan had insisted on this trip, the two of you escaping the chaos of the city to find solace in nature. He stood a few feet behind you, a rugged silhouette against the vibrant backdrop, and as you glanced back at him, his smirk sent a thrill through you.

Dressed in his typical casual style—faded jeans and a tight-fitting black shirt that accentuated his muscular frame—he looked every bit the part of a wild man, untamed and fierce.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” you said, turning your attention back to the ocean.

“Yeah, but not as beautiful as you,” Logan replied, his voice low and gravelly, sending a shiver of desire through you.

You felt heat creeping up your neck as you smiled at him, feeling bold under his intense gaze. “You always know what to say.”

He took a few steps closer, the ground crunching beneath his boots. “Maybe I should show you how much I appreciate you,” he said, a wicked glint in his eyes.

Your heart raced at the suggestion. The cliff was secluded enough that no one else was around, but the idea of being so exposed—so vulnerable—made your pulse quicken. “Here?” you asked, glancing at the steep drop behind you.

“Why not? No one’s here, and I’ve always wanted to make the most of the great outdoors,” he said with a smirk, stepping closer. “Besides, I’d catch you if you fell.”

You laughed nervously, your stomach fluttering with anticipation. “I don’t know…”

Logan closed the distance between you, his body radiating warmth as he pressed against your back. His hands found your waist, his rough palms grounding you against the wildness of the moment. “Trust me,” he whispered, leaning in closer. “I promise it’ll be unforgettable.”

His breath tickled your ear, igniting a spark of courage within you. “Okay,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

With that, Logan turned you around, his hands still firmly on your waist as he captured your lips with his. The kiss was hot and demanding, igniting a fire deep within you.

You melted against him, losing yourself in the moment as his hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly off the ground.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. You complied, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you to the edge of the cliff, the world falling away beneath you.

Logan leaned against the rocky wall, his body pressing you against the rough surface. The thrill of being so close to the edge heightened your senses, your heart racing as he ground against you. “You okay?” he asked, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze.

“Yeah, just… a little nervous,” you admitted, biting your lip.

“Don’t worry,” he replied, his voice low and reassuring. “I’ve got you.”

With that, he kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands exploring your body with a sense of urgency. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, the hard muscles of his chest pressing against your soft skin. Every brush of his fingertips sent jolts of electricity through your body, igniting every nerve ending.

You could feel the excitement building within you, the thrill of being outdoors adding to the heat between you. Logan’s hands moved with intention, peeling away your clothing piece by piece.

The cool breeze kissed your skin as you found yourself completely exposed before him, but the vulnerability only added to the intensity of the moment.

“God, you’re stunning,” he breathed, his eyes darkening with desire.

You felt a rush of pride at his words, your body responding eagerly to his praise. As his lips traveled down your neck, the sensation sent shivers coursing through you. “Baby,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as you urged him on.

“Yeah?” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing.

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded, craving more of his touch, more of his heat.

With a growl, he took control, lifting you higher against the rocky surface as he pressed his body closer to yours. Your back arched instinctively, craving the delicious friction of skin against skin. He was rough yet tender, a perfect blend of dominance and desire that made your head spin.

Logan’s hands explored every inch of you, tracing the curves of your body with a possessive grip. As his lips moved lower, trailing fiery kisses down your chest, you gasped, your body arching towards him in response.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, taking a moment to appreciate you before his mouth found its way back to yours. The kiss deepened, growing more frantic as the heat of the moment consumed you both.

He gripped your thighs tighter, lifting you slightly higher, and you could feel the rough rock pressing against your back, but it only added to the thrill. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, his eyes locking onto yours, filled with a mix of intensity and desire.

“More than ready,” you breathed, feeling a rush of adrenaline as he positioned himself at your entrance.

With one swift motion, he filled you completely, a low groan escaping his lips as he buried his dick deep inside you. The sensation was electrifying, the thrill of being so exposed combined with the sheer intensity of your connection leaving you breathless.

“Damn, you feel incredible,” he grunted, his breath hitching as he began to move. Each thrust was powerful and deliberate, the rhythm matching the crashing waves below. You felt alive, every nerve ending tingling as you lost yourself in the moment, the world around you fading into oblivion.

“Baby,” you gasped, your body arching against him, urging him on. “Just like that.”

He responded with a low growl, picking up the pace, the urgency building between you. The thrill of being so close to the edge—both literally and figuratively—heightened every sensation. You could feel the heat pooling deep within you, building with each thrust, each moan escaping your lips.

“Let go,” he commanded, his voice thick with desire. “I’ve got you.”

With those words, you surrendered completely, allowing yourself to be swept away in the intensity of the moment. The world around you blurred, the only thing that mattered was him and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, the last rays of light painted the horizon in vibrant colors, you felt the waves of ecstasy crashing over you. Your body tightened around hin, pulling him deeper as you cried out his name, the sound mingling with the roar of the ocean below.

Logan’s grip on you tightened as he followed you over the edge, the two of you spiraling into bliss together. The moment felt infinite, a collision of passion and nature that would forever be etched in your memory.

As the last light of day faded, the world fell silent, leaving only the sound of your breath mingling with the crashing waves. You clung to him, your heart racing as the reality of what you had just shared began to sink in.

“I think we should do this more often,” Logan said with a teasing grin, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Definitely,” you agreed, still feeling the aftershocks of your shared moment.

The cliff stood tall and silent around you, but in that moment, it felt like a sacred space where you had truly found each other, lost in the wildness of the world.

[leesromanova]

dust collected on my pinned up hair

pairing: natasha x reader

warnings: angst, hurt reader, happy/hurt/guilty nat, idk they're both hurting, marrige, cursing, self-criticism, lots of feelings. (i’m sorry)

synopsis: you go on your usual coffee run and bump into your ex, who if it wasn’t for the mutual break up, would have been the one.

a/n: i love angst lol. blame my over active imagination and taylor swift. thank you all for continuing to support and read my works <3

to put y’all in the mood i recommend listening to ↴

The line seemed endless. Bodies upon, bodies of caffeine addicts waiting to be serviced.

The energy of a busy New York coffee shop at 8am was truly a sight to see for any newbie to the city—thank god, you were accustomed to the rude grogginess of the baristas and the lines to wait for your wanted—no, needed, yet still overpriced coffee.

You hear the door open again as a small bell atop of the frame is triggered by the entering customer. The chill breeze of the city winter rips through the space, making you shiver and wrap your coat around yourself a bit tighter. Cool air creeping through the fibers of the winter coat you were sporting made you need that coffee a bit more urgently.

“Next in line!” the line moved as you pulled out your phone and took a step forward. You scroll through your notifications, looking for anything you had missed in your previous peak, before feeling a tap on your shoulder. Your first reaction is to look up with a rather hostile look in your eyes at whoever intruded your non-social, pre-caffeine headspace.

“Natasha?” your eyebrows crinkle at the sight of the woman in front of you. Her smile genuine as she looks down at you.

“Hi, stranger” she says, the raspy voice bringing back memories of a not-so-forgotten time in your past. She moves her arm around you to pull you into a side hug, you accept it—a bit stiffly and pull away, taking in her appearance.

She looked professional yet still casual and comfortable, a combination that always suited her quite well—at least the version you had gotten to know in your past. Her red locks in a neat braid that swept across her head and onto her shoulder, a few framing strands left out on the sides. Her eyes were more worn on the sides—the start of crows feet present besides her lashes.

Her eyes were the same, still the same shade of captivating green.

“How are you? How have you been?” she asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. Her voice coming out a bit rougher than how you remembered. Maybe it was caused by the cold air or, maybe it was just the other way the few years had affected her.

You look down and pocket your phone, “I’ve been okay, just y’know…holding up,” you watch as the person ahead of you steps forward, prompting the both of you to move up and fill the gap. You shift to the side, and make room for the redhead to stand beside you. The scent of her perfume lingers in the air, stirring up memories of the past.

“How about you? What have you been up to, besides finding ways to cut-in-line at random coffee shops?” she lets out a huff of air as she turns to look at you “I was leaving when saw you…so I decided I should come and say hi," she looks at you with an amused expression.

you smile and hum in acceptance, letting her continue. She takes a breath before starting, "I've been okay—for the most part. Just trying to keep up with what life throws at me." She smiles and puts her hands in her pockets. You wonder if they were just as rough as how you remembered, or if they’d grown more calloused with time.

"Are you cold?" you ask, still looking at her now-concealed hands. She turns to look at you, you meet her eyes, and she lifts a brow "I've told you before how we Russians don't get cold," she says before continuing "that’s something you should've remembered." her voice carries as the last words enter your ears and without thinking you respond.

"I remember lots of things."

You feel the energy around you both change as the words leave your lips and you cringe as you watch her body visibly stiffen. Your brutally honest word choice must’ve reminded her of the reason why it had been so long since the two of you spoke.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Sometime in the past 2 years

“Natasha… I just can’t do this anymore.” The words choke in your throat as you pace in front of her in the living room of your shared apartment. Every step you take feels like it’s pulling you further from everything you once wanted, but you can't stop yourself. You can barely breathe, the emotion inside you holding your lungs down. Your eyes move to look at Natasha, and everything inside you screams to hold on.

“I’ve always been here for you,” you continue, voice cracking. “Always. I kept waiting, hoping you’d open up to me, just like I did for you, bare an-and vulnerable.” Your voice cracks making you take a steadying breath before continuing, pointing a shaking finger toward her. “I put my heart on the line, expecting the same... but I never got it. And when you finally did open up... I was there. I loved you through the dark days, the lonely nights. I stayed, Natasha. I stayed through everything, and I'd do it all again in a heartbeat.” Your words spill out like a dam breaking, but the anger, the frustration, the heartbreak—none of it makes the pain go away.

You want to somehow make it work, to find the missing piece that would make her open up fully. You wanted this to work more than anything. But the hard truth is, you don’t know just how much more you can keep giving without receiving the same in return. You’ve poured so much of yourself into this relationship—your love, your patience, your vulnerability—but now it feels like you’re just…empty. Every night you lie awake, hoping that tomorrow will be the day she finally opens up to you the way you’ve been opening up to her, and every day feels like another unanswered question, an in-life purgatory you can’t escape.

Your fingernails find their way into the flesh of your palms, the sharpness grounding you, but it doesn’t help.

Her heart tears in two as she watches you like this, feeling like a failure. She feels it deep inside—your hurt, your exhaustion, the years of unspoken emotions—and she knows, with crushing certainty, that no matter how much she loves you, she can’t undo the damage. You’re the one person who has always been there, who’s loved her unconditionally, who’s been so patient, so willing to fight for the relationship. She’s failed you. It wasn’t enough. Nothing she did was enough. She loved you—God, she loved you so much—but somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to give you the one thing you needed most: her whole heart. Every single time you reached out, she recoiled, afraid that if she gave you more of herself, she’d lose herself in the process. She knew loving you would mean taking the risk of loosing herself within the beauty that was to love just as hard as you did. 

She doesn’t know how to love you the way you need.

She lifts her head, eyes red, blurry with unshed tears, and glances at your hands, fingers still digging into your skin like you're trying to hold yourself together, as the nails cut through the layers of flesh on your palms. The pieces of yourself feeling like they're falling through your fingers like water. She hurts seeing you like this, she knew you did it to feel control in moments where you felt that control slip away—she’d had been trying to help you stop it, to show you that hurting yourself wouldn't heal anything, but now, she feels just as lost. She feels herself drowning in guilt. 

She’s the one who’s made you feel like this, hasn’t she? 

A warm, trembling hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you out of the darkness of your thoughts along with herself–trying to claw her way out of her guilt. Her touch is gentle, almost too gentle, as if she’s afraid you’ll break if she holds on too tight. She guides your fingers away from your skin, but the ache in your chest only deepens. She’s trying to fix you–to help you, not acknowledging that she needed it as well. And neither of you knew how to do it.

What’s the hell is wrong with me? 

The question cuts deeper than anything she’s ever felt. 

Why can’t I just give her what she needs? 

I love her. 

I love her so much. 

Why isn’t that enough?

“I feel horrible,” she whispers, her voice thick with tears. When you meet her eyes, they’re filled with more pain than you’ve ever seen in them. It tears through you. You wanted to help her, to make her feel loved and safe, but all you've done is hurt her. You've made her feel like she's failing, like she’s not enough, and the guilt is suffocating. She wants to tell you how much she loves you, wants to apologize, to make it better, but she knows deep down that no amount of apologies can fix the damage done. 

You swallow, but your throat is tight, your chest heavier than it’s ever been. "You’re right. You always did the right things. You said the right words. You showed me you loved me, but… I couldn’t see it. I didn’t feel it the way I needed to, and I hate myself for that. I hate that I couldn't be enough for you, Natasha." Your voice breaks at the end, a sound that rips through you, as if you're breaking apart inside. Not enough for her to give you her all. “I’m so sorry. So sorry for making you feel like you weren’t enough.” Making her feel like she hadn’t been giving you enough because she couldn’t give you want you wanted—craved. The sudden realization makes you heave as you reel about you both hurting each other unwillingly—how could something so good turn into something so hurtful?

The weight of your own apology hangs in the air, suffocating, because you don't know how to fix this anymore. You don’t know how to make her stop feeling like she’s a failure when all she’s ever done is try. 

Her heart shatters as you speak. She sees the pure hurt in your eyes, feels the way you’re pulling away from her. it crushes her to know she's the one that hurt you, the one that made you feel as if you weren't enough. Every word you say is a reminder that she’s failed. She’s tried so hard to be the person you need, to show you how much she loves you, but every time she’s gotten close to letting herself go the crippling fear of falling too deep holding her back. 

“I wish I could change,” she says, voice barely audible, but you hear the depth of her regret in every word. She places her hand over her heart, almost as if trying to stop the pulsating ache there. “I don’t want you to suffer with my shit anymore. I don’t want to drag you through this anymore… but I don’t know how to fix me.” She looks at you, her tears falling freely now. “I hate that I can't give you everything you need. I hate that I couldn't be the person you deserved."

You feel every ounce of her guilt like a physical blow, and it’s suffocating. You wish there was something you could say to make her feel better, but the truth is, you're not sure if you even deserve to make her feel better right now. You've failed her too, in so many ways.

Maybe I’m not enough for her. Maybe I never was. 

The thought stings, like a shock against your skin. You can’t help but feel that maybe you’ve failed, that you’re the real reason things fell apart, not Natasha. But as you look at the redhead, her guilt hanging heavy in the air, you realize there’s not just one person to blame, there’s not only one person responsible for this. You’ve both been afraid. Afraid of fully trusting, of letting the walls down completely, of letting each other in.

And now? Now, it feels like it’s too late.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” she says, her voice cracking. “You deserve so much better than me. You deserve someone who can love you with everything they have, without holding back... and I’m not her. I can't be that person." Her eyes search yours, desperate for some sign, some glimmer of hope, but all she finds is a reflection of her own pain.

Staring at her tear-streaked face, the realization hits you like a punch to the gut: it’s not going to happen. It’s not because you haven’t tried, and it’s not because she doesn’t love you—she does, so much, and you can see it in her eyes. But love isn’t enough. 

I can’t keep waiting for something that’s never going to come. 

I can’t keep hurting like this. 

You’re shaking now, but it’s not from anger. It’s from the unbearable truth that lingers in the space between you. The love you had, the connection you both tried so hard  to hold onto, is slipping away, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

“I think…” you can barely get the words out, but they’re there, hanging in the air like the inevitable. "I think you’re right." Your voice cracks, your heart shattering with the weight of those words. You’ve known for so long, deep down, that this was coming. The back and forth, the exhaustion, the constant battle to make her open up, to make her let you in—it was destroying both of you, and it would never change. The months of fighting—wanting her to open up, to show you the real her, nothing was working as it should be. You had been fighting against something inevitable.

You run your thumb over her knuckles, trying to find comfort in the familiar motion, but it feels hollow now. “We’ve tried, Natalia,” you whisper, your heart breaking with every syllable. “We’ve tried to make this work, but I can’t keep pretending it’s going to be okay. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I don’t want you to hurt for me anymore.”

Her tears fall harder now, as if the weight of your decision has broken something inside of her. You both sit there, silently, broken and exhausted from a love that was never enough. Neither of you knows how to fix what’s been destroyed. As she looks at you, so broken, so utterly lost, she feels like she’s watching her own heart crack in two.

You both sit in silence as the sounds of the city bleed into the apartment and circle the two of you.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

“Next!” the barista’s tired voice carries through the space of the café, and makes you both turn to reach the counter. Your cheeks warm and tinged a shade of red at your earlier admission.

“Uh, can I get an iced blond vanilla late, with an extra pump of vanilla, and sweet foam with Carmel drizzle on top?” you order and look over at the redhead who was diligently staring at the side of your face.

She wondered how you hadn’t changed. Time seemed to have left you untouched. While she felt it’s weight etched into her face and mind—you were still the same. With the same coffee order, at the same coffee shop, the same you.

“W-would you like anything?” you ask, stuttering at the gaze she held.

“I’m okay,” she turns to the barista, “That’ll be all.” she completes your order out of habit as you pull out your card to pay.

the barista asks for your name and you both utter a thanks to the young woman, who doesn’t return the pleasantry as you both walk off to the side. The silence, between you both not unwanted, but definitely heightening your anxiety at the unexpected meeting.

You were not dressed to be seeing your ex at a coffee shop.

“Would you like to sit?” you clear your throat and ask, finding a table with two chairs. She smiles and looks at her watch. “Yeah—yeah, I got enough time” she says, sitting down beside you and looking out at the busy streets of the city that never sleeps.

She loved it here, her time in other continents and cities made her realize just how at home the city lights and sirens made her feel, just how at home the people in her life made her feel.

The light of the rising sun reflects off of the glass windows of tall buildings and illuminate her face. Her nose had stayed the same, the feature being something you loved about her even if she said she hated it from time to time. She turns and catches you staring. You to look away and clear your throat as she smiles warmly. She always liked that about you, so attentive to everyone around you.

Stop staring. You mentally kicked yourself for being caught.

“Y’know…you still order your coffee as if you hate the taste of it.” she teases, her hands motioning to the receipt that outlined the specific order you gave. A smile grows as you turn to look at her and laugh softly at her face of accusation. “I swear, you get the sugariest thing on the menu.” she continues, making you laugh a little louder.

Your laugh was the same–she noticed, your smile the same, but your eyes now held a few winkles at the sides as the joy spread over your face. She smiles at you then and leans back in the uncushioned, tall stool.

You roll your eyes and remove your gloves, “hey, before you tease just know you traumatized me with your coffee order,” she looks at you questioningly, making you lean in “Nat, you order a black coffee with like two sugars and call that a coffee order.” she laughs, her cheeks tinting a wonderful shade of red as she answers “It’s a legitimate coffee order y/n, that’s why they make me pay and why I made you try it.” her voice raspy as ever as it leaves her lips. “Oh yeah, trust me I know. I can still feel it on my taste buds and recoil every time I think about it.” she looks at your now very serious expression with a raised brow, and you both break into a shared cackle.

As the laughter settles, you both look at each other. Familiarity and warmth returning to your veins, you missed her. Sure, it had been more than enough time for you to get over her, but you never truly did. Everyone told you it was time to move on, but you never did, hoping, praying, manifesting that maybe one day you could fix things and reunite with the love of your life.

You went out with people, met other singles, dated—but no one made you feel what she did.

"So, how’s work?" you ask, your fingers nervously fiddling with the paper wrapping of a straw that was left on the table by some other customer. She glances down at your hands, noticing how your nails are no longer bitten or ragged, your palms free of the crescent-shaped marks that used to linger there. She smiles softly, noticing how you'd managed to break those anxious habits.

"It’s been good," she replies, her voice warm. "We got some new teammates in—I'm sure you saw it on the news." She looks into your eyes, smiling as she sees the familiar focus in your gaze. That hadn't changed either.

You nod and smile back, leaning in as she continues. "One of them is named Wanda. She's brilliant—you'd love her. Amazing sense of humor, and the best style. I know you’ve always been into fashion."

You chuckle softly, the memory of how you used to carefully pick out your outfits coming back. "That’s nice. So, you and her are close?" you ask, your voice lighter than you feel. It's easy to fall back into the rhythm with her. Conversations with her never felt draining, never like you were just filling silence. At least, it didn’t, not before everything went wrong.

"Yeah," she says, smiling shyly, but her eyes drop to her hands. And that's when you see it. The ring.

The world seems to blur for a moment as your eyes lock onto the silver band adorning her finger. Simple, yet undeniably there. Your mind races, struggling to catch up, focusing on the details—an engraving, some flowers, maybe lilies? You remember how she always loved those.

The sound of her voice cuts through your thoughts. "Y/N?"

You snap back to reality, but it feels like your heart is still racing. You blink, meeting her gaze. The concern in her eyes is unmistakable, but it's not for you. She's moved on.

“Order for y/n!” the barista yells, and you turn, smiling tightly at Nat before getting up to retrieve your coffee.

God, how had you not seen it before? Was it always there? How long ago did she become so open? So willing to let someone in, that she’d actually gotten married?

The questions hit you like a wave, crashing over your mind with unbeatable force.

You make yourself look away, desperate to regain control of your thoughts. You tuck some hair behind your ear, trying to ground yourself, and take a long sip of your cold drink, the ice crunching between your teeth. It does nothing to ease the nausea building in your stomach.

“I—uh, I was looking at your wedding band,” you mutter, feeling the words slip out awkwardly. Your gaze drifts back to her fingers, the ring glinting in the sunlight. She follows your stare, quietly adjusting her hand, almost as if she’s waiting for this moment to land.

“Oh, um… yeah," she clears her throat, her voice sounding a little tighter than before. "Me and Wanda... we, uh... I proposed a few months ago,” she adds, looking down at the ring, tracing the engravings with her fingers. Finally, she meets your eyes, and for a brief second, it feels like everything you thought you knew about her is slipping away. This wasn’t the Natasha who used to laugh at your bad jokes, or the one who whispered your name in the quiet of your shared apartment, the one who whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you laid naked in bed after you’d had sex. No, this was a version of her you did not know.

“Oh.” The word barely leaves your mouth as you nod slowly, but it’s enough to echo in the silence between you two. It’s all you can manage, the word feeling too small, insignificant.

What else could you say?

You want to bury your face in your hands.

God, Y/N, think of something better. Say something better.

The words feel hollow, useless, as they form in your mind. The words don’t feel like your own. They feel forced, clumsy, like you’re trying to hold onto something that’s already slipping through your fingers. You hate how it feels. You hate how she feels like a stranger to you now, someone you don’t know anymore, someone who has moved on without you.

"Congratulations," you finally say, the words coming out flat, lifeless. Your smile feels too tight, too forced. You can feel it pulling at the corners of your lips as your body instinctively turns inward, the discomfort sharp and heavy.

Congratulations? Are you fucking serious?

She notices, of course—how could she not? Her eyes flicker with concern, watching as your posture shifts, your guard rising. But it’s too late. You’re already pulling away.

What the hell did I just say?

The self-criticism is almost suffocating.

Congratulations?

You want to slap your forehead, but you settle for simply glancing up at her. Her gaze is locked onto you now, intense and unwavering. It’s like she’s trying to reach you through the growing distance between you two, but you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve lost her... that you never really had her.

The sound of the coffee shop fade as your own internal dialogue takes over, mocking you.

You’re pathetic, it whispers.

You haven’t moved on.

You never really let go.

You glance around the coffee shop. There’s a woman in the corner smiling at her boyfriend—no husband, the wedding ring sparkling as she holds his cheek, a group of tourists chatting loudly about going to watch some play on Broadway, someone in the backline swiping through their phone, you can see the TikTok home screen from your place in the corner of the café.

But you can’t hear them. All you hear is the hollow beat of your own heart, pounding painfully in your chest, as if it knows that this moment is the end of something—something you still thought was possible.

It feels like you’re drowning, surrounded by noise, by life moving forward, while you’re stuck here in this tiny moment, unable to breathe.

Her eyes flicker with concern, noticing how your posture shifts, how you stiffen at the words that should have felt normal, casual. But they don’t. They can’t.

There’s nothing casual about this.

Nothing normal.

Not when your heart is bleeding under the weight of a past you can’t shake, a future you never thought you’d face.

You try to steady yourself, but you can feel the walls you’ve built around your emotions crumbling.

She’s married, Y/N. She’s married. Get over it.

But you can’t.

You feel a pang of guilt. Natasha’s gaze is warm, but there’s an ache in her eyes too—something that makes your heart hurt in a different way. She’s trying. She’s not the woman you left behind. But then again, neither are you. Neither is she.

Her hand rests, trembling, on the table now. She wants to reach out to you, but she’s scared of pushing too hard. You can see it in her eyes—she’s uncertain. She’s terrified of what you might say. Terrified of making it worse. Her fingertips brush against the edge of the table, hesitant, before pulling away. She’s probably wondering if she’s done the right thing. Wondering if she was wrong to move on, to make this decision without you, without this—whatever you two were. She watches you, her gaze softening as if she wants to comfort you, but she doesn’t know how. She doesn’t even know where to begin. She could try to reach for you, but she knows it might make things worse.

"Are you okay?" Natasha asks softly, her voice trembling slightly. She’s staring at you now, as if trying to understand what’s happening inside your head, but you don’t have an answer for her. You don’t even have an answer for yourself.

The silence stretches between you two, heavy with unspoken words, as the noise of the coffee shop crashes around you both, a stark reminder that the world keeps moving. And in it, Natasha is moving forward, and you... you’re left behind.

She regrets it. She regrets this—this distance. This moment. She wants to take it all back. To fix this. To fix you. But she can’t.

The weight of the regret hits her, and she breathes out a slow, steadying breath, her hand trembling on the table. She can feel it too, the unbearable tension between you both, the space that feels like a chasm even though you’re only inches apart.

But you—you’re the one who’s drowning, trying to keep your head above the weight of the memory and the feeling that you were never enough.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, almost too quietly to hear. “I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like this.” Her voice cracks, and she looks away for a second, almost as if she can’t stand seeing you like this, can’t bear the thought of how much she’s hurt you.

But the truth is, she’s already lost you.

And she’s the one who will never be able to move on.

Her words cut deeper than she knows, because you can’t help but wonder—does she really not know? Has she been so caught up in her own life that she hasn’t seen how much this is tearing you apart? Or is it just that she’s moved on, and this is all just… a part of the past to her?

The thought makes your chest tighten. Your breath feels shallow, and you find yourself squeezing your cold drink harder, trying to steady the storm inside. You swallow, but it feels like there’s a lump lodged in your throat, blocking any response. You want to scream, to tell her everything, to make her understand how much it hurts to see her here, happy, with someone else. But the words are gone—lost in the space between your need to cry and the reality of the life she’s chosen without you.

“Why?” The word slips out before you can stop it, raw and desperate and hurt. You didn’t mean to ask it—didn’t want to ask it—but you can’t help it. You need to know.

Natasha’s heart aches at the sound of your voice, the fragility in it. For a moment, she feels as though the floor beneath her might give way. She had hoped—hoped—that you would be okay. That this wouldn’t hurt so much. But the pain is evident, like a raw wound, and it’s impossible to ignore.

Her face crumbles for a moment, and she looks away, as if she’s searching for the right words, for something that might make this hurt less. But there are no words that can make this better. No words that can undo the last few years.

she feels a lump in her throat, the wounds she'd covered, gashes shed mended, all coming undone in this moment.

“I don’t know,” Natasha whispers. “I really don’t know. I thought I could give you what you needed, but… I couldn’t. And I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you needed me to be.”

Her voice cracks as she says it, and she feels herself breaking inside. She knows you’re hurting, but she’s not sure what she can do to make this right. She had tried—tried so hard—to be what you needed, but she failed. And it kills her that she couldn’t give you the love and stability you deserved. The love she thought she could offer, the love that now feels so distant and ungraspable.

Your heart aches. It’s a contradiction, isn’t it? The way she sounds so guilty, and yet you know deep down that she’s not really sorry for her life—she’s sorry for the fact that she hurt you in the process of living it.

Her words feel hollow to her, and as they leave her lips, she wonders if she’s just prolonging the pain for both of you. She swallows hard, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her ring again. It’s such a small, insignificant gesture, but in this moment, it feels like the biggest thing in the world. It feels like a symbol of everything she’s lost. A symbol of a promise she made to someone else, a promise she can’t go back on.

She wants to reach for you again, but she knows better now. She knows that you’ve already made up your mind—that you’ve already closed the door on what could have been. The door that used to swing open so easily for her, but now only feels heavy and locked.

You look at her, your gaze raw, and for a second, you think you might say something else. You might beg her to take it all back. To come back. But you know you can’t. You know you have to let this go. You feel a deep ache in your chest as you realize that this is the end. The finality of it settles in, and you can’t hold on any longer.

Instead, you take a shaky breath and pull back from the table, your hands folding into your lap as you gather yourself. It’s almost like you’re physically trying to close yourself off, to shield the part of you that still hopes and longs for something that no longer exists.

“Maybe... maybe you were never what I needed either,” you mutter quietly, more to yourself than to her. The words taste bitter on your tongue, and you wish you could take them back as soon as they leave. But it’s true. Somewhere along the way, you lost her. And maybe, just maybe, you lost yourself in the process.

The words hit Natasha like a slap, but it’s the truth. She’s never been able to give you what you needed, and that realization settles like stone in her stomach. She opens her mouth as if she’s going to say something—something to fix it, to undo the damage—but the words die in her throat. They would only make things worse, only deepen the wound between you both.

She doesn’t speak. She can’t. She just watches you, helpless, as you turn away from her, the finality of your departure cutting into her chest like a knife.

You shake your head, unable to meet her gaze. The tears you’ve been holding back for so long feel close now, threatening to spill over. You can’t let them. You won’t. Not here, not in front of her, not when everything feels like it’s already slipping through your fingers.

“I should go,” you say, your voice quieter than you intended. It’s not a demand, it’s not even a decision—it’s just the only thing you can bring yourself to say. You push your chair back, standing up slowly, feeling like your legs might give out beneath you. You feel empty, but in a way, that emptiness is almost worse than the pain.

Her eyes follow you, and Natasha doesn’t try to stop you. She doesn’t ask you to stay. Her hands are folded in her lap, and she’s left with the sense that, somehow, she’s failed you, failed the both of you. She doesn’t think she could stand to watch you walk away again. The understanding in her eyes is quiet, gentle. She knows this is the end.

As you turn to walk away, you hear her raspy voice one last time. “Y/N… I still care about you.”

You stop for a moment, the weight of her words pressing down on you. You want to say something back—anything—but you know it wouldn’t change things. It wouldn’t fix anything.

You don’t respond. Instead, you walk. One foot in front of the other as you push open the door of the coffee shop, the cold New York air hitting your face like a slap. It’s sharp, biting, but somehow, it’s exactly what you need. You step into the busy street, the noise and the rush of people washing over you, but all you can hear is the silence of her absence. Is this it? You think. It has to be.

You keep walking, trying to put one foot in front of the other, but every step feels heavier than the last. You don’t know how you’re supposed to move forward—to move past her. You don’t know if you ever will.

After all, it’s never over.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

a/n: YAYY!! i was so excited to start writing this fic, it’s my drafts since October so i’m happy it’s finally out. i hope you all liked it! it was my first time writing angst and i’m very proud of it, if you guys have any constructive criticism pls give it politely:)

ps: i’m excited to see everyone’s reactions to it, please do share how you feel afterwards <3

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Something to Prove

Pairing: Osferth (The Last Kingdom) x f!reader Warnings: Smut. Word count: ~3k

Summary: Osferth is keen to sate curiosity when questions are raised as to why he has women fighting over him.

Author's note: Day eleven of Smuffmas - party and position changes. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She was exhausted, and hot. It was a chilly winter’s evening, and yet her skin felt clammy. The air in the tavern hung humid and heavy, the place more crowded than it had ever been. Loud cheers, laughter and the crash of wooden flagons being knocked together in joyous toasting filled the space, the cacophony of it all so loud that she could scarce hear the shouts for more ale that rang out in chorus each time a group had drained their mugs.

Her tired feet carried her ceaselessly from behind the bar and back again each time she emptied her jug and needed to refill it from the cask. The flagstone floor was sticky underfoot, and she had to be careful not to add to the mess by spilling what she carried, as the shoulders of revellers jostled her while she worked her way through the crowd, refilling and topping off the drinks of those that held their cups out to her. She did not mind though, they had every reason to celebrate; Wintanceaster had achieved victory that day against the Danes. With the aid of Uhtred and his men, the city had been defended from invading forces. The battle had been fierce, yet those that had taken up arms against the Danes had fought bravely, cutting down the opposition and causing what little remained to retreat. Wintanceaster was safe once more.

Everyone present was eager to toast to Uhtred, to thank him for his help, and congratulate him for how valiantly he fought, yet it was another person entirely who captured her attention. Osferth, a warrior monk who had pledged his loyalty to Uhtred, fighting alongside him and his men – ordinarily, he wasn’t a man she would have looked twice at, yet tonight she could not keep her eyes off of him. Two days previous, she had witnessed two women fighting viciously over him, to the point that his lord had had to step in to separate them. She could understand such jealousy being expressed over Uhtred, Finan or Sihtric; they were surly, confident, everything one would expect when envisioning bravery and heroism. Osferth, though he stood at least a head taller than the three men he travelled with, was wiry, his demeanour timid and apologetic.

She was desperately curious about him and, without even being conscious of it, her eyes sought him out each time she made a pass of the room. He was lost in merriment, laughing and joking with Finan, slopping ale onto the floor each time he raised his drink. Perhaps she would never know precisely why he inspired such feelings of jealousy from other women, at least not from simply looking at him anyway.

“I need some air, will you be alright for a moment?” she asked the other barmaid, shouting to be heard over the noise, as she placed her empty jug back upon the bar.

The older woman nodded. “Go on, can’t have you fainting on me. Don’t be long though, they’re a rowdy bunch tonight.”

The bite of the crisp night air made her skin prickle as she pushed outside, rapidly cooling her sweat-dampened skin and making her shiver. It was refreshing. She leaned back against the rough stone wall of the tavern, the noise inside muffled to a dull hum as the wooden door thumped heavily closed behind her. She huffed a sigh, her breath puffing out into a white cloud against the inky black night sky.

A burst of the din from the tavern startled her as the door swung open again, quieting as quickly as it had come as the person who had stepped out gently pushed it closed. She looked over, her lips parting in shock as she saw Osferth, moving to lean his back against the wall on the other side of the door, next to her. She masked her surprise, offering him a tight lipped, polite smile in greeting, before looking away again.

“Are you alright, lady?” he asked her softly, a hint of concern in his voice.

“Mmm,” she affirmed quietly, smoothing her hands over the white apron that was tied around the waist of her linen dress. She kept her eyes fixed upon the ground, “it is warm inside. I just needed a moment to breathe.”

“Me too,” he replied, “I don’t think I have ever drank so much ale…may I…ask you something?”

She lifted her eyes to meet his, not moving her head as she cast him a playful sideways look and a smirk. “You already have.”

Osferth grinned, bowing his head as his eyes crinkled in amusement, and she lifted her face fully to watch him. “Yes, I suppose I have. But–” he turned fully to face her as he tucked his hands inside of the brown leather breastplate that he wore over his robes, “I have noticed you staring at me tonight, lady. May I ask why?”

Turning to face him too, she leaned her shoulder against the wall, her fingers fidgeting nervously with her apron. She didn’t want to tell him the real reason why, it was gossipy and impolite. “You fought bravely today, surely that is deserving of admiration?”

She watched his cheeks flush pink in the pale moonlight, as he looked through the window of the tavern, the soft glow of the lamplight inside illuminating the sharpness of his profile. He was quite beautiful to look at, she decided, as she studied the sharpness of his profile; an aquiline nose, strong jaw and high cheekbones. 

He offered her a shy smile as he looked back at her. “It is my lord, Uhtred, who is deserving of your praise. Most do not even know my name.”

“You are Osferth, are you not?”

His eyebrows raised slightly as his lips parted in surprise. “I am,” he answered, pulling his hands free of his breast plate to fold them over his chest as he studied her face. “Might I know your name, lady, and the real reason for your interest in me?”

Her skin grew warm with embarrassment, despite the frost that had begun to settle upon the ground. She told him her name, hesitating before revealing the real reason for why she had been looking at him throughout the evening. “I saw those women fighting over you the other day, and I was curious about it. Forgive me, it is not my place to wonder. I should get back inside, I have been gone too long.”

Without another word or a glance back, she pulled the door open, enveloped in heat once more as she weaved her way back to the bar. She concentrated on keeping the ale flowing for the rest of the night, doing her best to keep both her mind and her eyes off of Osferth. 

By the time the tavern closed for the evening, her body was practically crying out for the comfort of her bed and, thankfully, she did not have far to go. Her job included lodging – a small room located above the tavern, accessible from the outside of the building by stairs located at the back.

As she rounded the corner of the building, headed for the back of it, she gasped as she felt a hand grasp the top of her arm, accompanied by a soft whisper of her name. Heart hammering wildly and eyes wide with fright, she rounded on her assailant, preparing to defend herself against the worst.

She relaxed considerably as she stared up into the face of Osferth. He quickly let go of her arm, stepping back as he saw her fearful reaction. “Forgive me, I did not mean to frighten you.”

His eyes were unfocused, his posture suggestive of a state of drunkenness that he had not been affected by when she had spoken to him earlier; he swayed slightly upon his feet, his posture not as rigid as it had been before. She worried that his group had left him in such a vulnerable state, and wondered if perhaps he had sought her out for help.

“How much ale have you had, Osferth?” she asked softly, gently grasping the leather cuffs that encased his forearms, holding him steady.

He blinked slowly, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he stared fondly down at her. “Enough that I feel no shame for what I am about to ask, and not so much that I will regret it in the morning.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion, tilting her head slightly. “What do you mean?”

He turned his arms in hers, his own fingers gripping her forearms in return. She could feel how cold his fingers were through the sleeves of her dress. “Your question earlier…I should like to sate your curiosity.”

Her skin grew heated with embarrassment at his brazen suggestion, yet the chill of his skin worried her more. “Come, let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”

Osferth trailed after her up the rickety wooden stairs to the room she occupied above the tavern, hovering quietly behind her as her fingers, numb with cold, struggled with the key in the lock. It wasn’t much better once inside, but it was a roof over their heads at least – a roof much closer to Osferth’s head than hers, in fact. She had to stifle a laugh behind her hand, once she had gotten the lamp lit – Osferth stooped within the small place – she had never taken the time to consider his height before, but seeing him dwarf the space around him really emphasised just how tall he was.

She cast her eyes around the modest room, as though seeing it for the first time – the small double bed that was pushed up against the far wall, and the tiny window above it, the chest that sat at the foot ot it, and the rickety table and chair tucked away in the corner, with a cracked and dusty mirror that rested precariously upon the tabletop, alongside the wooden tub that she used for washing.

Looking back at Osferth, her tone was apologetic. “It’s not much, I don’t even have a fireplace, but it’s better than being stuck outside. It was wrong of Uhtred to just leave you like that.”

“I asked him to,” he admitted, as his gaze moved around the room, lingering on each item until he looked upon the bed. “May I?” he gestured towards it, “I’m going to end up bumping my head otherwise.”

She allowed herself to laugh then, and he laughed with her, the drunken haze of his blue eyes shining in the soft lamplight. She simply nodded, gesturing for him to sit on the edge of the bed, before joining him.

“Why did you want Uhtred to leave you?” she asked after a moment, acutely aware of how his thigh pressed against hers as they sat side by side.

“I told you before,” he said, turning slightly so that his body faced her, though he looked at her through his lashes, as his head was bowed, “I wanted to show you why those women fought over me.”

She scoffed in amusement, shaking her head. “That is highly presumptuous of you. What if I had said no?”

“You didn’t though, did you?” he asked, reaching out and gently taking her hand. The contact made her pulse race, but she didn’t pull away.

“It would have been unkind to leave you out in the cold…”

“You could have given me a blanket and allowed me to sleep it off in the tavern,” he reasoned, as his thumb stroked gentle circles against the back of her head, “but you invited me up here. And I think we both know why that is.”

“I just–”

Osferth shook his head as he lifted it, his eyes imploring as they stared into hers. “I was a novice. I know what it is to deny yourself what you desire. I saw that same look in your eyes tonight every time you looked at me. I no longer deny myself, and I don’t think you ought to either.”

Her breath hitched at his words, the weight they carried stirring a nervous fluttering within her. She hadn’t realised it until now, but her grip on his hand was now vicelike. “You’re drunk,” she whispered.

“You are beautiful,” he said sincerely, as his free hand reached up to brush a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

The moment that his lips were upon hers, something inside of her snapped, all restraint and sense of proprietary leaving her. She let go of his hand, both of hers coming to ball into the fabric of his robes not covered by his breastplate as she pulled him close. His nimble fingers tangled into her hair, causing her to moan, allowing his tongue to lick against hers as their kisses grew more urgent, the sticky sound of their saliva and panted breaths filling the small space.

She helped him to disrobe, unbuckling his cuffs and giggling as the straps of his leather armor tugged at his hair as she helped him to pull it over his head. Once both fully undressed, she was scared to look upon his naked form, afraid to let him see her, in case she lost her nerve. Before she had the chance to change her mind, she crawled on all fours onto the bed, presenting herself to him. It was how every other man she had allowed to hump her had taken her, so she didn’t see why Osferth would be any different.

He surprised her when he didn’t immediately grasp her hips and force himself inside of her. His fingertips trailed the length of her spine, making her shiver. She felt the mattress dip as he knelt upon it, leaning over her, his chest against her back as he nuzzled into her neck. No one had ever treated her with such tenderness before, especially not while intoxicated. She turned her face towards his, her heart almost skipping a beat as she saw the soft reverence in his eyes. He pressed a tender kiss to the corner of her mouth as his fingers dipped between her thighs.

His touch was gentle, exploratory. He stroked her in a way that made her ache and throb, gathering arousal from her opening before circling her bud with it. It felt nice to be prepared in this way, no one had ever taken such care with her before. Only when she bucked and mewled under his ministrations, the ache between her legs growing almost intolerable, did he notch the head of his cock against her and press forward. The stretch was slow, but pleasant, the fullness of him inside of her made her push her hips back against him, impatient to feel more of him.

She heard him exhale shakily, before giving her hips a playful squeeze and beginning to thrust into her. It wasn’t hard and fast, as she was used to, he took his time with each pull back and forward motion, as if he was getting to know her body, learning what movements made her whimper and sigh softly in pleasure. When he pulled out altogether, she whined in protest at the loss of him, looking back over her shoulder at him in annoyance. Osferth chuckled softly, before coaxing her onto her back.

“What are you doing?” she asked, feeling prone and exposed in this position. Her eyes raked over him, he was thin, but corded with lithe muscle and small faint scars that covered his torso. His cock stood proud between his legs, flushed at the tip and shiny with her wetness.

He stared at her with similar appreciation as he grasped the base of himself. “I do not wish to rut you like an animal,” he told her. He pushed her thighs apart, leaned down and dragged the flat of his tongue against her dripping sex, making her cry out in surprise. Osferth grinned as his face reappeared from between her thighs, grasping her calves and placing them over his shoulders, before plunging back inside of her.

The angle knocked at a spot inside of her that made her throw her head back, screwing her eyes shut, her legs shaking as his hips started to move again. She clutched the bedsheets to ground herself, her knuckles blanching with the force of her grip.

“There you go,” Osferth whispered breathlessly, holding her legs firmly against his body as he rocked his pelvis, “this is how you should look – worshipped and carefree.”

She dared to open her eyes, lifting her head to look upon the place where their bodies joined. She watched in rapt fascination as he disappeared inside of her, drawing back each time to reveal his glistening shaft and the light thatch of curls that sat at the base of it.

His eyes were hooded as he watched her and he let go of her thighs, allowing her legs to rest of their own accord against his shoulders as one hand moved to tweak one of her nipples into a stiffened peak, while the other snaked between their bodies and began circling her sensitive pearl with his thumb.

“It is too much,” she protested weakly, writhing beneath him, the dual assault on her senses making her feel as though she would lose all control.

“Nothing is too much for you,” Osferth reassured her. The hand upon her breast moved back to her thigh as he turned his head to kiss the inside of her knee. “Almost there, I can feel it.”

She could feel it too. The insistent bullying of his cockhead against her sensitive walls, coupled with the relentless rubbing of his thumb against her swollen bundle of nerves were rapidly tightening the coil in her lower belly. She felt his erection begin to pulse, and the sensation pushed her over the edge. He pulled out as she cried out in ecstasy began to spasm, groaning as he painted her lower belly with pearly ropes of his spend. Their bodies shuddered together, utterly lost in the throes of their shared peak until, finally, Osferth collapsed beside her, panting heavily.

He gathered her against his chest, holding her close, not caring that her skin was sticky with his release, and she couldn’t help the contented smile that spread across her face.

“It has never been like that for me with anyone before,” she confessed quietly.

“Do you feel like you understand now why those women fought over me?” Osferth asked playfully, “if not, I’d be more than happy to show you again.”

She giggled, lightly swatting his chest. “You have certainly proven yourself, though I would never say no to another demonstration.”

Read on AO3

More Osferth fics

[hannahbarberra162]

Imagine Getting Baby Fever with Crocodile

TW: talking about children in the beginning, breeding kink

~800 words, F!Reader

First part fluff, second part smut under the cut. I have nothing to say for myself. Send me to the horny dungeons.

~

“Aw, look at that little family,” you said quietly, watching a father play with his toddler on the playground. The mother was sitting in the shade, waving with a smile to the laughing baby while she sipped on a lemonade. The toddler’s short curls and chubby cheeks were so cute you just wanted to squish them between your hands. The baby ran to its mother, the husband chasing it playfully. Shortly thereafter, the trio left with each parent holding one of the toddler’s chubby hands, laughing at something or other the child had said. The sight warmed your heart and you yearned for something you'd always wanted but hadn't the courage to ask for. You were in the city center with your husband Sir Crocodile, enjoying sitting in the shade during a short break in his day. He, of course, was smoking a cigar and idly playing with the halter strap of your sundress with his hook. One wrong move and your top would fall, but then he never made wrong moves.

“Dear, have you ever thought about having children?” you asked quietly. Crocodile glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Hm,” was all he replied to you. But not his disinterested hum, you'd learned enough to know that was him allowing you the space to talk without disagreeing outright. He puffed smoke out of his cigar, tipping the ash off with his hand to the pavement below.

“I just - we could try? If you don’t want to, I won’t ask again,” you said, testing the waters. 

“Alright,” Sir Crocodile agreed easily, resuming playing with your dress.

“That’s it? I - I must admit I am surprised, Love. I thought you’d be harder to convince.”

“I’ve given the idea thought before. It has merit.” 

“”I didn’t know you’d thought about it before,” you replied, your eyebrows hiked high. Crocodile shrugged before placing his hand across your back, cupping your neck with his hand. Pulling your head towards his large body, he kissed you gently on the temple.

“Before you, I didn’t think about marriage either,” was all Crocodile said before removing his hand from your neck. Standing up, he extended his hand towards you, giving you a life off the bench. He reached into his pocket for his Baby Den Den.

“Daz, please clear my schedule for the afternoon. I will be otherwise occupied,” he said, giving you a once over.

“Go eat a nutritious lunch, Tesoro. I will need a few minutes to prepare,” he said enigmatically, kissing your hand.

“I told you not to waste a single drop, and yet here you are, leaking all over me. What do you have to say for yourself?” Crocodile tutted at you, dragging the dull middle of his hook through the slit of your dripping pussy. You could feel the cold metal through your folds, gathering some of the copious come he’d already left there, making you shiver. 

“I thought you wanted me to breed you but you waste my gifts. I suppose I’ll have to start all over again,” he said with a heavy sigh. In reality, you knew he wasn’t put out at all. Crocodile had been fucking you raw since the early afternoon and didn’t have any intention of stopping. You’d come more times than you could count, your pussy taking pounding after pounding. He treated each round like a separate event, often enjoying a cigar and scotch afterwards while you remained in position to better accept his cum inside you. He kept you well hydrated, taking the gag out of your mouth and giving you sips of water for as long as you needed. But as soon as you were done drinking, the gag went back in and Crocodile went back in you.

At the very beginning he had you in a mating press with your legs hiked high over his muscular arms.

“You want my seed? You want me to make you a mother?” he’d  said, holding your legs in place with his bulky frame.

“I n-need it, I ah ah need it,” you’d mewled into him. He’d come shortly thereafter, using his fingers to fuck his come back into you as he stared at your messy pussy.

“This will never do, my Love. You’re spilling,” he tsked at you. Shortly thereafter, he’d manhandled you into a breeding stand. You weren’t sure if he’d had it made in the hour you were eating lunch or he had it prepared beforehand. The stand was simple in design, a metal frame keeping you positioned on all fours with an attached collar around your neck and another around your waist. Crocodile had thoughtfully placed it on top of a comfortable rug on the floor which kept your knees from hurting too much. The height of the neck collar kept you lowered onto your forearms and your ass high in the air.

He’d been fucking you ever since, filling your sopping pussy with load after load of his come. After each time he would examine your cunt to determine if you’d sufficiently kept his come inside. You had yet to pass his examinations. He often used a vibrator to tease you in between sessions, leaving you wanting until he determined it was time for the next round.

“You’ll need to learn this lesson a few more times today. And of course, we try again tomorrow,” Crocodile said, licking his hook.

[raekensluver]

MIDNIGHT RIDES - BIKER!LUIGI MANGIONE x FEM!READER

DESCRIPTION: going on a night ride with luigi is one of your favorite pastimes.

CONTAINS: dangerous acts on a motorcycle, oral (fem receiving), luigi cumming in his pants.

w.c: 2.8k

the neon lights of the city flickered in the puddles from the recent rain shower, casting an eerie glow across the asphalt. the air had the scent of wet concrete and exhaust fumes. you sat snugly behind luigi on his sleek motorcycle, feeling the gentle purr of the engine vibrate through your body. the warmth of his back radiated against your chest as you tightened your arms around his waist, your gloved hands resting just above his hips. the red light loomed over the intersection, a silent guard dictating the flow of traffic.

you couldn't help but let your curiosity wander. your fingertips traced the contours of his muscular thighs beneath his jeans. luigi stiffened slightly, but a soft chuckle rumbled from his chest. "what's going on back there?" he asked without looking back, his voice a low murmur over the engine's hum. you giggled in response, your breath warm against the fabric of his shirt. "just enjoying the ride," you said with a playful smile. the light turned green and he revved the engine, but you didn't pull away. instead, you slid your hands upward, under the hem of his shirt, and onto the firmness of his abs.

luigi's grip tightened on the handlebars, the bike wobbling slightly as you continued your exploration. you felt his stomach muscles tense as your hands roamed higher, reaching the base of his ribs. his breathing grew shallower, a subtle sign of his growing discomfort. "hey," he said, half-laughing, half-serious. "keep that up and we're gonna end up on the sidewalk." the light had turned red again, and the world around you had stilled once more. you leaned in closer, your helmet's visor kissing the back of his neck. "i don't know," you murmured. "i like the view from here."

his cheeks flushed a little beneath the cool evening air, the only indication of his rising temperature. "you're really not making it easy for me to focus, you know," he said, his voice strained. the engine's vibrations grew more pronounced as his heart rate increased. you grinned, feeling a thrill at the effect you had on him. "good," you said, your voice a low purr. "i want all your attention."

you felt his abs tighten as you slid your hands around to his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath the fabric of his jacket. the light changed again, but luigi didn't move. "are we just going to sit here?" you asked, a teasing lilt in your voice. "i thought we had somewhere to be?"

his shoulders relaxed slightly and he sighed. "right, sorry," he said, before turning the throttle and peeling out of the intersection. you gripped his thighs tightly as the bike surged forward, the wind rushing past your ears like a symphony of freedom. the city lights streaked by in a blur of color, reflecting in the puddles like a disco ball had shattered on the street. luigi leaned into the turns, his body moving in sync with the bike, your heart racing to keep up with the rhythm of the engine.

the feeling of his thighs beneath your palms was exhilarating, the power of the motorcycle seemingly transferring to your fingertips. as you gripped tighter, luigi's muscles flexed, responding to the pressure. it was like holding onto a living, breathing creature, one that thrummed with life and strength. each shift in gears sent a jolt of excitement through your body, making you feel more alive than ever before.

you slid your hands up to his biceps, giving them a gentle squeeze. luigi's shoulders hunched slightly, and you felt his tension spike. "you're gonna make me lose control," he warned, but his voice was tinged with amusement. "i trust you," you whispered, nuzzling his neck. your breath was hot, a stark contrast to the cool air rushing past. he chuckled again, the sound low and deep, sending a shiver down your spine.

the city streets grew quieter as you ventured further into the night. the buildings grew taller, their lights casting long shadows that danced with the bike's headlight. the air grew crisper, hinting at the approaching winter. the chill didn't bother you, though, not with luigi's warmth surrounding you. you leaned in closer, pressing your chest against his back, your hands now resting on the tops of his arms. the bike's vibrations grew more intense as he picked up speed, the thrumming a delicious reminder of the power beneath you.

finally, luigi pulled over to the side of the road, the engine sputtering to a halt. the silence was deafening after the constant roar of the motor. you slipped off the bike, your legs wobbly from the adrenaline rush. "what's up?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips as you both pulled off your helmets, letting your hair cascade down your back. he turned to face you, his eyes dark with something unspoken. "i need a break," he said, his voice gruff.

you took a step closer, placing your hand on his arm. "are you okay?" you asked, genuine concern lacing your voice. he took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "yeah," he murmured. "but you're driving me crazy." a soft laugh escaped your lips, and you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "sorry," you whispered, not really meaning it.

luigi stepped closer, closing the space between you. his eyes searched yours for a moment, before he leaned down and captured your mouth in a fiery kiss. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you tight against his body. your hands found their way into his hair, the strands damp from the misty night. the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you standing under the flickering streetlight.

his kiss grew more demanding, and you felt your body respond in kind. your heart pounded in your chest, the throb of the engine still resonating in your bones. the coolness of the metal bike frame pressed into your side, a stark contrast to the heat emanating from luigi's embrace. the scent of engine oil mingled with the sweet aroma of his cologne, creating a heady mix that made you dizzy with desire.

finally, he pulled back, his breath coming in short gasps. "behave," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "and i'll give you what you want." his eyes searched yours, a promise and a challenge all rolled into one. you bit your bottom lip, nodding slowly. "okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

without another word, luigi grabbed your helmet from the handlebars and placed it back over your head, the cool plastic a stark contrast to your flushed cheeks. his hands lingered for a moment, adjusting the strap, his fingers brushing against your skin. you felt a sudden thrill at his assertiveness, a side of him you don't see much of. "let's go," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. you climbed back onto the bike, your legs straddling the seat, and wrapped your arms around his waist once more.

the ride back to your townhouse was a blur of neon lights and the occasional streetlamp. luigi's focus was intense, his eyes never leaving the road ahead. every so often, you'd feel his abs tighten against your grip, a silent acknowledgment of the tension that still crackled between you. your hands remained on his thighs, but you didn't push any further, content to simply feel the warmth of his skin through his jeans.

as the bike pulled into the driveway, you felt a sense of anticipation building in the pit of your stomach. luigi killed the engine and swung his leg over the side, helping you off the bike. the moment your feet hit the ground, he turned to face you, his eyes dark and smoldering. without a word, he took your hand and led you up the stairs, the sound of your boots echoing through the quiet night.

once inside, he reached up and unbuckled your helmet, lifting it off with surprising gentleness. you felt a sense of vulnerability without the barrier between you, but also a thrill at the intimacy of the gesture. luigi's eyes never left yours as he placed the helmet on the coat rack by the door. his own helmet followed, the clunk of it hitting the wooden floor echoing through the hallway.

his hand found yours, and he led you to the living room, the warm glow of the lamp casting shadows across the floorboards. the couch beckoned, a cozy sanctuary in the chilly night. without breaking eye contact, luigi sat down, pulling you onto his lap. the heat of his body was like a warm embrace, and you melted into it, feeling your own desire flame brighter with every beat of your heart.

his hands moved to the zipper of your jacket, tugging it down slowly, revealing the soft fabric of your shirt beneath. his fingertips traced the line of your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. the air in the room felt thick with unspoken words and unexplored feelings. you leaned in, capturing his mouth in another kiss, this one slower, deeper. your tongues danced together, a silent conversation that spoke of passion and yearning.

luigi's hands grew more confident, slipping beneath the material of your shirt to caress your bare skin. the touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure through your body. with a sudden decisiveness, he pulled the shirt over your head, breaking the kiss just long enough to discard it onto the floor. his eyes roamed over your torso, drinking in the sight of your curves, your skin flushed from the cold and excitement.

his hands moved to the laces of your boots, deftly untying them and tugging them off one by one. the feel of his warm, calloused hands against your ankles was heavenly, sending a thrill up your legs. you shivered slightly, and he looked up with a question in his eyes. "are you cold?" he murmured, his voice thick with want. "no," you replied, your voice a whisper. "i just want you."

his gaze held yours for a moment longer before dropping to your waist, where his hands began to work on the button of your jeans. the denim felt tight, constricting, as if the fabric itself was eager to be removed. with a pop, the button was freed, and luigi slid the zipper down with torturous slowness. the anticipation was palpable, a silent crescendo building between the two of you.

once your jeans were undone, luigi's hands slid inside, cupping your hips, his thumbs teasing the sensitive skin of your stomach. your breath hitched as he began to peel the fabric down, exposing your legs to the cool air. his eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race even faster. you could see the desire in his eyes, the hunger that matched your own.

his hands moved to your back, unclasping your bra with a practiced ease that spoke of familiarity. it slipped off your shoulders, and you shrugged it away, feeling the weight of it fall away. your breasts pressed against his chest, the fabric of his shirt a thin barrier to the warmth of his skin. his thumbs grazed your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. you gasped, arching into his touch.

his hands moved to the waistband of your underwear, hooking his fingers into the fabric and pulling it down with your jeans. your legs were bare now, the soft skin of your thighs exposed to the cool air. luigi's eyes never left yours as he removed the last of your clothing, his gaze a mix of desire and something else, something deeper that made you quiver.

he slid you off his lap, standing in front of you as you stepped out of your jeans and underwear. your legs felt wobbly, but you didn't need to stand for long. with a gentle tug, he guided you back onto the couch, this time with your legs spread wide open for him. the fabric of the couch was rough against the back of your thighs, but it was a delicious contrast to the softness of the cushions beneath you.

luigi knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours. his hands rested on your thighs, the warmth of his palms sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. slowly, so achingly slowly, he leaned forward, his breath hot against your skin. you felt his nose nuzzle the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh before his lips followed, placing a soft, lingering kiss just above your knee. your body quivered in response, your heart racing with anticipation.

his kisses grew bolder, moving upward, each one sending a shiver through your core. the anticipation was almost too much to bear as he approached your center. when his mouth finally found your clit, it was like a bolt of lightning had struck you. the sensation was intense, the gentle pressure of his lips against the sensitive bud sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. you moaned, your hips bucking upward involuntarily.

his nose rested against your clit as he explored you with his tongue, delving into your folds with a hunger that left you breathless. the warmth of his breath was a stark contrast to the coolness of the room, sending goosebumps racing across your skin. your fingernails dug into the couch cushions as he lapped at you, the rhythm of his movements matching the pounding of your pulse. your eyes rolled back in your head, lost in the symphony of sensation.

his hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he worked his magic. you felt your body begin to tighten, the tension coiling like a spring deep within you. your breathing grew ragged, your chest heaving with every gasp. "luigi," you moaned, his name a prayer on your lips. he responded by increasing his pace, his tongue flicking against your clit with an expert touch that had you seeing stars.

his eyes flicked up to meet yours, a smoldering intensity in their depths. you could see his own desire mirrored in the dark orbs, his own need growing with every passing moment. and then, as if unable to resist any longer, luigi's body tensed, and he ground his hips against the couch cushions. you watched, mesmerized, as he gave in to the pleasure you were giving him, his own need evident in the way he moved.

his teeth gritted as he fought for control, his eyes never leaving yours. the fabric of his pants grew tight against his erection, the outline clear and unmistakable. the friction from the couch cushions must have been driving him wild, because you could see his body strain with each movement, his thighs flexing as he sought release. the sight of him like this, so raw and unbridled, only served to stoke your own passion.

you reached down, your hand sliding over his shoulder to the back of his head, urging him closer, your legs shaking. "yes," you panted, the word barely audible. "just like that." luigi's eyes darkened, and he took the hint, his mouth working more fervently against your clit, his tongue swirling in a pattern that had you teetering on the edge. your toes curled, the tension in your body reaching a crescendo that threatened to shatter you.

suddenly, it was too much, and you were falling, the world around you dissolving into a sea of white-hot pleasure. your nails dug into his shoulders, your hips bucking against his mouth as you cried out his name. the orgasm washed over you in waves, leaving you boneless and trembling. luigi didn't stop, though, continuing to kiss and nip at your sensitive flesh, drawing out every last bit of ecstasy until you were a puddle of satisfaction.

as the spasms of pleasure began to subside, you felt a shift in his posture. his breathing grew more ragged, and his grip on your thighs tightened. then, it happened. a muffled groan vibrated against your skin as luigi's body tensed, his hips jerking. you watched with a mix of fascination and desire as he came in his pants, the fabric straining against his erection. the sight of him losing control was more intoxicating than any alcohol could ever be.

his eyes snapped shut, and he remained there for a moment, his forehead resting against your thighs. his chest heaved with each ragged breath, the sound a testament to his restraint. finally, he sat back on his heels, his eyes opening to meet yours. "i'm sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with passion and regret. "i couldn't… i just needed…"

you reached out, placing a hand on his cheek. "it's okay," you assured him, your voice soft. "i liked watching you." a hint of a smile played at the corner of his mouth, and he leaned into your touch, his eyes searching yours. the air between you was charged with something unspoken, a silent understanding.

[jeannyjaykaydeh]

Merry Sinsmas (Part 2)

Alastor x Reader

Some of you have asked me if I could write a sequel. So, here it is. I hope you like it. :)

———————————————————————————

And there you are. Directly in front of the radio demon. Under a sprig of mistletoe. And everyone around you is expecting you to kiss him.

Including him.

Smug as he is, he grins down at you. Expecting you to submit to tradition and pressure.

How much you would love to.

How much you would love to give in to it all. Surrender to him.

And the longer you stare into his beautiful, ruby red eyes, the more you realise how incredibly in love with him you are.

But that simply can't be! No! That would be your downfall!

A relationship with Alastor would never have a future. He's a demon - no - he's THE radio demon. Dangerous. Feared.

He murdered people when he was alive. And possibly enjoyed it.

Would he even be capable of love?

"Come on now, doll," Angel urges you on his behalf and on behalf of everyone who is staring at you as intensely as if they were waiting for the show of the year, "it's just a kiss. Nothing wild."

You look to the others.

Charlie grins like a rainbow unicorn that's been eaten up by romance. Vaggie doesn't look like she approves of what's going on, but there's a certain curiosity in her eyes, too. Husk looks like he always does: unmotivated, bored, annoyed.

Niffty has a look of madness in her eye. It's a look that sends a cold shiver down your spine, but her grin reveals that she too wants to see this love that seems to be in the air here in action.

Then you look at Alastor again. He is standing in front of you, in his upright, elegant posture, with his arms behind his back. He probably hasn't even blinked the whole time.

What is he thinking right now? You don't know. You just can't read him.

You sigh. Then you gather all your strength and slowly shake your head.

"No. I don't want to," you say quietly.

Alastor raises an eyebrow. You hear annoyed groans from the others.

"Spoilsport," Angel condemns you with a teasing undertone as he strokes your head once to show that he means no harm by what he says to you.

You walk past Alastor and up the grand staircase to your room.

----------------------

You sit on the large windowsill of your room and gaze thoughtfully through the huge pane of glass, which offers you a breathtaking view of the Pentagram City skyline.

It's hard to believe how beautiful hell can actually be.

Speaking of beautiful: your thoughts wander to Alastor. As so often lately. And even more often since the mistletoe incident.

It was just a few days ago.

Since then, you've hardly dared to leave your room. The whole situation was so unpleasant for you, you just don't know how to deal with it now if you meet Alastor again.

You don't know anything anymore.

Suddenly there's a knock on your bedroom door.

"Yes?" you call out and shortly afterwards the door opens. Angel enters your room and comes towards you.

He sits down next to you on the windowsill.

"Well, little one?" he starts his greeting and gives you a touching smile.

"How much longer are ya going to isolate yourself? Do ya think you can hide in your room for all eternity?"

He chuckles slightly, because as sympathetic as he is to you right now, he also finds your behaviour a little amusing.

You shrug your shoulders: "I don't know. Maybe Alastor will be redeemed one day in four hundred years or so and then I can move around the hotel freely again."

Angel laughs softly. He knows just as well as you do that the idea of Alastor being redeemed is the most unrealistic thing imaginable.

"And what exactly are ya hiding from?" he asks curiously.

You reply: "I have no idea. I guess from embarrassment again."

"And do ya think it was only ya who was embarrassed?"

You look at Angel Dust. Your expression shows surprise and questions in response to his question.

"What do you mean?"

He puts both hands on your shoulders and fixes his gaze on you.

"Y/N," he sighs at your naivety, "sure, maybe it wasn't the most tactful of us to push ya into a corner like that and it's also yer right not to want to kiss someone."

He wipes a strand of hair from your face and continues: "But ya don't seem to realise how much Smiles likes ya. The way he looks at ya every day, that happiness in his eyes, and I could swear his permanent smile at those moments is a genuine smile for once. For months, this buck has been trying to get ya round, which we all notice, and ya keep turning him down. And the expression in yer eyes when ya see him is no different to his. Girl, we don't just see the tension between ya two, we feel it as soon as ye're both in the same room. And it's starting to hurt to watch ya still resisting it, even though it's clear that Alastor is exactly what ya want. Ya both really need to fuck. So please, do it already."

You look at Angel and raise an eyebrow. You can't suppress a slight giggle at his strange speech.

"Oh man, you're out of your mind," you reply jokingly, looking at him with a grin.

He laughs and replies, shaking his head: "Eh, no, YOU are out of your mind. After all, I'm not the one who's stupid enough to have broken the radio demon's heart."

Your laughter stops abruptly and you blink at Angel in surprise: "What? I broke his heart?"

"Absolutely, sweetie! Even if creepy voice master would never admit it, but I think I've known him long enough to realise that he was definitely not happy after yer rejection. Which is understandable, ya embarrassed him like that instead of just pulling yerself together and giving him a fucking kiss."

You broke Alastor's heart? What is Angel talking about? Is it even possible to break this man's heart? Does he even have a heart?

You think about it.

And the more often you replay this scenario in your mind's eye, the clearer it becomes to you how outrageously you behaved towards him.

It wasn't the fact that you didn't want to kiss him that was rude, no, it was that you went against your own feelings. That you treated him so disparagingly and he simply went out of his way to show you what a gentleman he was and that he seemed to be genuinely interested in you.

And that you don't admit to yourself how much you're in love with him, even though that's exactly what he deserves.

An uneasy feeling spreads through your chest. It's pity. Pain.

Poor Alastor!

Suddenly you leap from your windowsill and walk resolutely towards your bedroom door.

"Hey, what are ya doing?" Angel calls after you, curious and puzzled.

"Throwing myself into embarrassing situations," you answer him and hurry out of your room.

-----------------------

You hurry down the stairs into the lobby - Angel is right behind you.

As expected, you find the others there: Charlie, Vaggie, Niffty, Husk - and Alastor. They are all busy preparing the Hazbin Hotel for the next upcoming celebration: The New Year's Eve party.

Charlie and Vaggie are decorating, Niffty is cleaning, Husk is setting up the bar and Alastor is standing there in his usual elegant pose with both hands on his staff, giving instructions to his shadow demons, who are eagerly lending a hand.

You walk purposefully towards the radio demon - he doesn't notice you at first and when his gaze finally falls on you, it's too late for him to react, because you stand in front of him quite quickly, immediately grab the man by the collar of his coat, pull him down to you and press a short but intense kiss to his lips.

And his lips feel really good! Wow!

As you break away from him, you hear the brief, startled static and his wide eyes, which stare at you briefly but quickly return to their arrogant state. Alastor's grin widens slightly as he looks down at you.

"WOOOOOH!" cheers Angel, clapping his hands. Charlie joins in, Niffty claps along and Vaggie and Husk just stand there with their mouths open, as if they can't believe what's just happened.

Just like you.

Because only now do you really realise what you've done.

Why did you do that?

You look at Alastor, astonished and confused. Your own action has left you speechless, but you can see from the look on his face that he is waiting for an explanation.

"That- um," you start to stammer, "well, I still owed you a kiss... Because, about, um. Mistletoe and all that."

You pause for a moment as you notice Alastor looking at you with a raised eyebrow, amused at the way you're stammering.

You take a deep breath, then start again. With a serious expression and an honest look in his eyes, you say: "Al, I'm very bad at this sort of thing. Romantic gestures in public can really put me off and I generally have massive commitment issues. But the fact is that I kind of like you and I've realised that I should jump over my own shadow and give it a chance between us."

And that's where you stand now: with your trousers metaphorically down. You've poured your heart out in public and shown your weakness to the guy you should never show your weakness to. Your pulse is rising. The stress level in your head is high. You can feel the blush creep into your cheeks and take on the colour of his coat.

There is a brief but uncomfortable silence between you. So uncomfortable that it seems like hours, even though it's only a few seconds.

Alastor looks down at you with a surprised expression and a frozen grin.

And then the radio demon suddenly bursts out: "Hohohoho! Now that's what I call a surprise. Tell me, my dear, how are you feeling right now? Judging by your red cheeks, this must be more unpleasant for you than the moment I confronted you with the mistletoe."

Wait a minute! What?!

Horror spreads across your face. And questions. That's not the reaction you were expecting.

Well, actually, that's exactly the reaction you'd expect from Alastor.

But then again, you assumed that you had broken his heart.

"W- why are you laughing?" you ask meekly and anxiously.

You feel a little stupid right now.

Alastor tries to get his laughter under control again to give you an answer.

He puts a hand on your shoulder and replies: "Sweetheart, what makes you think you've hurt me? Me? Because of some pathetic mistletoe? Haha! Oh, that's downright hilarious!"

Your gaze falls on Angel Dust. "You said that-"

Angel grins sheepishly and replies, "Oh come on. As if I or any other cock here knows what's going on in Radiodaddy's head. Alastor's a walking enigma and he'll always be one."

So Angel just made it all up to get you to finally take the initiative. He just wanted to see you kiss the radio demon.

Furious, you shout at him: "YOU ASSHOLE!"

"Well, ah, ah! My dear! Watch your choice of words," Alastor admonishes you, "look on the bright side: you've finally managed to come out of your shell and now I know what's really going on inside you and that my advances weren't in vain."

You bury your face in your hands.

Then this difficult step that you finally managed to take was completely in vain.

Fuck!

You're so embarrassed.

----------------------

It's New Year's Eve. The party at the Hazbin Hotel is in full swing. Everyone is drunk out of their minds.

You're having an incredible amount of fun together, the music is good and the games Charlie has come up with amuse everyone who joins in.

But at some point, like at any party where alcohol is flowing, you feel the need for some fresh air - if you can call those smelly fumes that are spreading through hell fresh.

You excuse yourself and go out the door. You look down from the hill at the city lights and can hear the other inhabitants of Pentagram City celebrating from a distance.

You put your cup, which is filled with a sugary cocktail, to your lips and take a big sip.

You realise that you are already very woozy.

Suddenly you notice a hand moving out of the corner of your eye towards the cup at your mouth and taking it away from you.

"Hey!" you exclaim and are startled when you see Alastor next to you.

He shakes his head with mock indignation and says: "Oh, my little deerling, don't you ever learn from your mistakes? You barely manage to get through a day without embarrassment and then you still dare to pour yourself full of alcoholic drinks."

He takes a look at your cup, raises an eyebrow sceptically, takes a quick sniff and then grimaces in disgust. Cocktails really aren't his thing.

But the glass filled with whisky he's holding in his other hand is his thing.

You may be well drunk, but you still have the ability to notice that the radio demon is in the same mood.

He's trying to mask it and continue to maintain his mysterious, elegant demeanour, but it's clear he's having a pretty hard time of it right now.

"Well," you reply, shrugging your shoulders, "I've got nothing to lose now anyway."

"Hmmm," the man hums happily and slightly judgementally to himself. Then he says: "Do you know what your problem is, my dear?"

"You?"

A short laugh escapes him.

"Ah, hahaha. Hilarious. Oh yes."

He likes your joke, but feels a little offended at the same time, which is revealed by the dark undertone behind his laughter.

He continues: "You're trying too hard. Either you don't want to stand out or, if you fail to do so, you're trying far too hard to avoid the centre of attention."

"I see," you reply sceptically, "and what would be your advice for me?"

"Advice?" he asks in mock surprise, "hahaha! No, I don't have an advice at all. Oh no, little doe, I'm having incredible fun seeing you so pathetic. I'm just taking advantage of it."

You grimace. Anger rises in you. You turn your gaze away from him, cross your arms in front of your chest and stare silently into the distance.

And suddenly Alastor says something that throws you completely off course: "But I don't want to be like that, because - as you probably already know - I like you too. My advice would probably be that you should learn more from me. As Angel said a few days ago: I'm an enigma. None of you deluded souls could have guessed that you hurt me with your rejection on Christmas Day. Because none of you would have believed me capable of it."

Your gaze wanders to him again. You look at him, shocked and surprised by his words.

He's just openly said that he likes you? And has he just admitted that you hurt him after all?

Is he serious? Or is he just taking the piss?

Or is that perhaps the alcohol talking?

"So I did hurt you after all?" you ask without restraint.

He narrows his eyes menacingly and replies: "I hope you realise that this will stay between us, right?"

A warmth spreads through your chest - and it's definitely not the alcohol - and you're overcome with joy.

So he really likes you.

He seems to have a genuine interest in you.

And jumping over your shadow was not in vain.

Now you know: You are ready! Ready to embrace this feeling. Ready to get involved in a new relationship. Ready to get involved with this man.

A smile plays around your lips and you look at him in love.

"Ah, that smile suits you beautifully, my dear. You should show it to me more often," Alastor comments on your facial expressions with a warm look as he puts his hand on your cheek.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you at Christmas, Al," you whisper, looking intently into his eyes.

His smile widens a little, then he turns on his heel towards the door and holds out his elbow for you to hook onto.

"Let's go back inside, my dear. The evening is still young and the party is too good to miss. And believe me when I tell you that I know a thing or two about a good party. There was never a better party than in the Roaring Twenties. Ahaha!"

You catch up with him and you walk towards the hotel door together.

Alastor opens it and holds it open for you - like the gentleman he is.

You walk past him and enter the lobby. Alastor follows you, he walks upright and elegantly with his arms behind his back. He walks right behind you into the hotel and suddenly you feel him lean down a little and whisper in your ear:

"It's midnight in two hours, sweetheart. And you know by now that I'm a man of tradition. Where I come from, it's customary to kiss at the turn of the year, otherwise it's bad luck in the new year."

You look him in the eyes and giggle. A suggestive smile spreads across your lips and you reply while winking at him: "Don't worry. Unlike mistletoes, the New Year's Eve custom also exists in my home country."

@stattikdemon @coffeesefied

[kathlare]

interrupted magic

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amid the glittering aftermath of the Wicked premiere in London, Lando and Amelie find themselves caught in a magnetic and intimate moment, only to have reality intrude at the most inconvenient time.

Wordcount: 1.4 k

Warnings: just fluff

December 24th, 2024 - London, United Kingdom

The night had been filled with the glitter of flashing cameras, the clink of champagne glasses, and the excitement of the Wicked premiere in London. But now, as the evening's chaos faded into the soft hum of the city, Lando and Amelie found themselves stepping into the quieter world of his sleek apartment.

Amelie, still in her long, bright yellow dress—its soft silk pooling at her feet—was trying to steady herself after the whirlwind of the event. She laughed softly, her fingers brushing Lando's tuxedo jacket as he closed the door behind them. He was still dressed impeccably, his shirt slightly undone at the collar, and she couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked.

—You look stunning, Ames,— Lando whispered as he slid his hands to her waist, his fingers skimming the smooth fabric of her dress. His voice was low, and his breath felt warm against her ear. She smiled softly up at him, tilting her head to meet his gaze.

—You too,— she said, her voice a little breathless as her eyes flickered between his lips and his eyes, both full of mischief. It was as if all the tension from the night was suddenly gone, replaced by an undeniable magnetism that had always been there.

Before she could say another word, Lando leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that started slow but quickly deepened, a reminder of how easily they fell back into each other. His hands roamed down her back, and her hands found their way to his chest, feeling the hard lines of his muscles beneath the tuxedo.

Amelie let out a soft sigh as Lando’s lips moved from hers to her neck, his hands tightening around her waist as he gently pulled her toward the bed. Her heart raced, each touch sparking a current that shot through her veins. She could feel the heat of his body against hers, the tension that had been building throughout the night finally breaking free in this intimate moment.

Lando’s hands slid along the sides of her dress, the fabric smooth and cool under his touch as he laid her down on the bed. He hovered above her, his lips trailing from her neck to her collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Amelie’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she arched her back, wanting more of the warmth and intensity he was giving her.

—Lan,— she murmured, her breath shaky as her fingers traced his jawline. —You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting this.—

Lando grinned against her skin, his lips curving up as he pressed a kiss just below her ear, causing her to shiver. —I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, Ames,— he teased, his voice a soft growl. He moved to kiss her again, this time more urgently, his body pressing into hers as if he couldn’t get close enough.

But just as their kisses became more heated, Lando’s phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand, breaking the moment in a harsh, jarring ring.

—Are you fucking serious?— Lando groaned dramatically, pulling back from her with a frustrated sigh. He reached over, grabbing his phone, his expression turning from sultry to irritated in a heartbeat.

Lando glanced at the screen, his irritation deepening when he saw the caller ID.

—It’s my dad,— he muttered, tossing the phone in the air as if considering throwing it out the window. —I swear, this is the worst timing.—

Amelie chuckled softly, the tension in the air easing slightly, even though both of them were now caught in this awkward interruption. She reached up, running her fingers through his messy hair, offering a small smile.

Lando sighed dramatically, throwing his head back slightly, clearly annoyed at the interruption but unable to hide the small smile that tugged at his lips. Amelie, never one to miss an opportunity, slid herself onto his lap, her legs draped over his, her yellow dress pooling around them like a soft cloud of silk. She leaned in, planting delicate kisses along his neck, her lips grazing his skin, sending an electric shiver down his spine.

Lando's hands instinctively gripped her hips as her kisses grew more persistent. His breath hitched slightly, the warmth of her body pressing so close to his making it increasingly harder to stay composed. But the phone rang again, its insistent buzzing pulling him back to reality.

—Ames,— he whispered, barely able to get the words out as she continued her delicate assault on his neck, —I swear if I could just ignore this...— He let out a shaky breath, trying to maintain focus as she pressed her lips closer to his skin, her kisses gentle yet teasing.

He struggled, biting his lip, forcing himself to push her off just enough to answer the call.

—Hello?— he managed to say, his voice betraying the tension he was feeling as his dad's voice crackled through the speaker.

—Lando, where are you?— Adam's voice was calm but authoritative, the sound of background chatter audible, suggesting they were already downstairs in the lobby of the building.

Lando’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, his mind still caught in the whirlwind of what Amelie was doing to him. He had to focus, or this whole situation would turn into a disaster.

—Yeah, we’re coming down now, Dad,— he replied, trying to control his breathing. He glanced at Amelie, who had her head resting on his shoulder, looking entirely too cute with her innocent expression as if she didn’t know the effect she was having on him.

—Are you ready? The chauffeur’s waiting downstairs. We don’t want to miss our flight to Mexico, right?— Adam added, making sure to remind him of the time crunch.

Lando sighed, his hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose. —Of course, I forgot. Let me just... I’ll be down in five.—

He hung up the phone, his mind still spinning with the mess of emotions he was feeling from the night, the premiere, and most of all, the beautiful girl on his lap. But reality was quickly sinking in.

Amelie pulled away slightly, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she looked up at him.

—So, we need to get dressed and head downstairs now, huh?— she asked softly, still close enough that her breath fanned across his neck.

Lando groaned, his hand running through his hair as he tried to suppress the frustration building inside him. —Yeah. Looks like it, Ames. I swear to God, the universe is fucking with us tonight. We had the perfect moment, and then my dad calls to ruin it.—

Amelie’s eyes twinkled with mischief, and she leaned in to plant a small kiss on his lips, savoring the brief contact. —You know I love when you get all dramatic, Lan. You really know how to make things interesting.—

Lando sighed dramatically, throwing his head back slightly, clearly annoyed at the interruption but unable to hide the small smile that tugged at his lips. Amelie, never one to miss an opportunity, slid herself onto his lap, her legs draped over his, her yellow dress pooling around them like a soft cloud of silk. She leaned in, planting delicate kisses along his neck, her lips grazing his skin, sending an electric shiver down his spine.

Lando's hands instinctively gripped her hips as her kisses grew more persistent. His breath hitched slightly, the warmth of her body pressing so close to his making it increasingly harder to stay composed. But the phone rang again, its insistent buzzing pulling him back to reality.

—Ames,— he whispered, barely able to get the words out as she continued her delicate assault on his neck, —I swear if I could just ignore this...— He let out a shaky breath, trying to maintain focus as she pressed her lips closer to his skin, her kisses gentle yet teasing.

He struggled, biting his lip, forcing himself to push her off just enough to answer the call.

—Hello?— he managed to say, his voice betraying the tension he was feeling as his dad's voice crackled through the speaker.

—Lando, where are you?— Adam's voice was calm but authoritative, the sound of background chatter audible, suggesting they were already downstairs in the lobby of the building.

Lando’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, his mind still caught in the whirlwind of what Amelie was doing to him. He had to focus, or this whole situation would turn into a disaster.

—Yeah, we’re coming down now, Dad,— he replied, trying to control his breathing. He glanced at Amelie, who had her head resting on his shoulder, looking entirely too cute with her innocent expression as if she didn’t know the effect she was having on him.

—Are you ready? The chauffeur’s waiting downstairs. We don’t want to miss our flight to Mexico, right?— Adam added, making sure to remind him of the time crunch.

Lando sighed, his hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose. —Of course, I forgot. Let me just... I’ll be down in five.—

He hung up the phone, his mind still spinning with the mess of emotions he was feeling from the night, the premiere, and most of all, the beautiful girl on his lap. But reality was quickly sinking in.

Amelie pulled away slightly, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she looked up at him.

—So, we need to get dressed and head downstairs now, huh?— she asked softly, still close enough that her breath fanned across his neck.

Lando groaned, his hand running through his hair as he tried to suppress the frustration building inside him. —Yeah. Looks like it, Ames. I swear to God, the universe is fucking with us tonight. We had the perfect moment, and then my dad calls to ruin it.—

Amelie’s eyes twinkled with mischief, and she leaned in to plant a small kiss on his lips, savoring the brief contact. —You know I love when you get all dramatic, Lan. You really know how to make things interesting.—

Lando pulled a face, his lips twitching as he tried to suppress a grin. —I swear, if the universe has a sense of humor, it’s got a sick one.—

Amelie chuckled softly, her fingers brushing along his jaw, making it clear that she wasn’t quite ready to let go of the moment either. She was still perched comfortably on his lap, and her dress had twisted around them both like a golden halo. She loved seeing him like this—half-irritated but still trying to keep his cool for her. It was adorable.

But they both knew they couldn’t stay in this intimate little bubble forever. The reality of their impending flight hit them hard. They still had to travel to Mexico for Christmas Eve dinner, which meant they needed to get their act together fast.

—Alright, alright, no more messing around,— Lando said with a sigh as he reluctantly helped Amelie off his lap. He grabbed his phone again, checking the time. —We need to get dressed and head downstairs, or we’re really gonna miss the flight. My family’s not gonna let me hear the end of it if we do.—

Amelie, with her usual playful smile, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. —No worries, Lan. I’ll try not to make it worse for you.— She got up from the bed, smoothing down her dress as she started to move toward the bathroom to freshen up a bit before they left.

Lando got up too, but before he could even walk to the closet, he glanced at her, still in awe of how beautiful she looked even with everything rushing around them. She had a certain glow about her, something magnetic that always made his heart race.

—You’re still the most beautiful thing in the room, Ames,— he said, his voice soft but with that trademark sincerity that made her heart skip a beat.

Amelie smirked, catching his gaze in the mirror. —You’re such a charmer, Lan,— she teased, stepping into the bathroom. She glanced at her phone, a few texts from her family popping up. They’d been expecting her for days now.

Lando took a few deep breaths, trying to snap out of his flustered state. He needed to focus. Getting ready for a flight was hard enough without his mind wandering back to their stolen moments.

As he was rummaging through his clothes, trying to find something more casual for the long flight, he heard the sound of Amelie’s voice in the other room, followed by the rustling of clothes. A few moments later, she reappeared in a hoodie and leggings, looking effortlessly cute despite the rushed change. The hoodie was one of Lando’s, from an old race weekend, and it hung loosely on her, the sleeves rolled up slightly.

—Well, I guess this will have to do,— she said, flashing him a playful grin as she adjusted the hood.

—You look perfect,— he said, his eyes softening as he took her in. His voice was full of warmth, mixed with a hint of admiration. —I love how you always manage to look stunning, no matter what.—

Amelie chuckled, the sound light and musical. —You just say that because you’re biased, Lan. But I’ll take it.—

They quickly gathered their things, Lando grabbing his jacket and slinging it over his shoulder before leading her to the door. The tension from before was still there, lingering between them, but now there was an excited energy in the air. They were about to embark on a journey to Mexico, where they’d spend Christmas with both of their families. For Lando, it was a huge step—his family had never met Amelie’s, and this would be the first time they all came together.

As they stepped out of the apartment, the elevator ride down felt like the longest few moments of Lando’s life. The air between them was thick with anticipation. When the doors opened to the lobby, Lando’s family was already waiting, their excited chatter filling the room.

—Lan!— his younger sister, Flo, squealed as she rushed over to hug him. —You two look great tonight. Hope you didn’t keep us waiting too long.—

Amelie smiled at her, always finding comfort in the warmth of Lando’s family. —Sorry, we got caught up,— she said, smiling softly. —You guys ready for the flight?—

—Absolutely,— Oliver, Lando’s older brother, said with a grin. His wife, Sav, was holding their two young children, Mila and Anthena, who were both busy tugging at Amelie’s hands, eager for attention. The sight made Amelie’s heart melt as she leaned down to scoop up Mila, kissing the little girl’s cheek.

Amelie’s heart swelled at the thought of her family meeting Lando’s. She had heard so much about them and had been eagerly anticipating this moment. For her, it wasn’t just a holiday; it was a chance to bridge the gap between two worlds, to show Lando the warmth and joy of her family.

As they made their way out to the waiting chauffeur, Lando slipped his hand into hers, squeezing it gently. —Ready for this?— he whispered, his voice full of affection and excitement.

Amelie squeezed back, her heart racing. —Yeah. Let’s go make some memories, Lan.—

They stepped into the car, the lights of London fading away as the night unfolded into the promise of a new chapter—together.

[ivohex]

who do you like more? || LADS 🔞

"Of course you'd start without me," Xavier grumbles, shooting Lumiere a dirty look over your shoulder. "I couldn't keep our little bunny waiting, could I?"

Summary: Lumiere suddenly appears in Linkon City. You and Xavier make the most of things.

Rating: E for EXPLICIT. MDNI! 🔞 Mind the tags!

Word Count: ~1.2k

Relationship: Xavier x fem!Reader x Lumiere

Tags: complete and utter filth, barely edited, plot what plot, consensual nonconsent, MFM threesome, double penetration, first time anal fingering/anal sex (F receiving), vaginal sex, rough sex, spanking, handjob (Lumiere on Xavier), selfcest, creampies, use of bunny/little bunny and good girl as petnames, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, come eating, hair pulling, lumiere calls xavier little prince, jealousy, dirty talking, 100% ooc but idec, lumiere topping xavier topping you

Note: While I'm working on requests(!!!) please enjoy this short fic featuring you getting railed by both Xavier and Lumiere because I'm depraved. Merry Christmas 🤪

Smut below the cut!

"Of course you'd start without me," Xavier grumbles, shooting Lumiere a dirty look over your shoulder.

"I couldn't keep our little bunny waiting, could I?"

Lumiere emphasizes his point with a sharp upwards thrust, and your cunt clenches around him greedily. You brace your hands against his chest, gripping the lapels of his coat and panting, while two glittering eyes stare back at you behind his silver mask. His hands slide up your bare waist, encouraging you to grind against him.

One of Xavier's hands kneads your breasts, the other coming to clutch at your jaw and force your head to the side. "Don't look at him. Look at me," he breathes, and then his lips close over yours in a bruising kiss. His hips bump into your backside, and you can feel his length pressing insistently against your ass.

"You've always been selfish, little prince," Lumiere chides Xavier. He reaches around to grab the other man's hips, bringing him to a sudden stop.

You've never heard Xavier growl the way he does now, and the sound goes straight to your cunt.

"Be still," Lumiere commands. "We have to prep you."

You squeak as he yanks you against his chest. One of his hands encircles your wrists and holds them in place at the small of your back.

"Wait," you whimper, but neither pay you any mind.

"Xavier," Lumiere says, nodding his chin towards the nightstand.

You can practically feel Xavier glaring at Lumiere as he plucks the bottle and pops the cap open. In the silence that follows, all you can hear is the sound of your own panicked breathing. You try to twist to look at Xavier, but Lumiere won't let you.

"Eyes on me," he demands. You struggle to meet his gaze, shivering at the heat you see simmering in his eyes.

Behind you, something cold and wet gently grazes your other hole.

You thrash in Lumiere's grip. "Wa-wait—oh, fuck—"

A fingertip presses into the tight ring of muscle. He rubs your thigh soothingly. "You have to relax, bunny."

"I-I can't—"

Lumiere interrupts you with another pointed thrust. When you cry out, he brings one of his hands between your legs, and gently strokes his thumb against your clit. "Yes, you can. Breathe."

You focus on steadying your shuddering breaths. Xavier keeps prodding you, pushing deeper each time until his entire finger slips inside.

It isn't a sensation you're used to at all—but as he adds a second and third finger, you can't stop yourself from rocking back onto his hand.

"Does it feel good, bunny?" Xavier breathes into your ear, nibbling on your lobe in the way he knows you like. But before you can speak, his hand is suddenly picking up its speed.

When you don't answer, Lumiere jerks his hips again again, hard. You let out a sharp cry. "Answer us," he murmurs, his soft tone contrasted against the way that Xavier's fingers are pistoning in and out of your tight hole. "Do you like it?"

"N—ah, fuck! I—" Your words break off into moans as Lumiere starts thrusting into you.

"You didn't let her finish," Xavier snaps, withdrawing his fingers. You whimper, and you aren't sure if it's out of relief or desperation. "I guess we'll have to keep going to see if she likes it or not."

Lumiere slows. "Come here," he says to Xavier.

Xavier shuffles forward, and this time, Lumiere lets you watch as he wraps a fist around Xavier's cock. Wordlessly, Xavier grabs the bottle of lube again and squeezes a few drops onto Lumiere's hand.

Lumiere strokes, and Xavier's composure crumples for the first time. You stare, enraptured, as his hips jerk forward, and he fucks himself into Lumiere's fist.

"I should make him cum like this instead of letting him cum inside you," Lumiere muses. The muscles in his forearms tense as he grips even tighter, and Xavier's head falls back as he lets out a shaky moan. "I bet I could. I doubt he can last as long as me."

The glare Xavier shoots Lumiere has you clenching on his cock, and Lumiere inhales sharply, glancing at you with a warning look.

"Careful," Xavier says, his voice dark and low. "Or I'll make you eat your words."

Lumiere just scoffs, wiping his hand on the sheets. "Ready?"

You aren't sure who he's talking to, but you suppose it doesn't matter as he grabs the plush of your ass and spreads you apart. You feel Xavier moving behind you again, and then the tip of his cock presses against your ass.

You make an attempt at a sudden escape. Xavier's hand slaps down on your ass, hard, and you keen, but keep struggling. Lumiere grips a fistful of your hair and pulls, and you're forced into submission, whimpering.

"Don't fight us," Xavier whispers against the shell of your ear. "Be a good girl, okay?" His hand soothes the red mark on your ass, and he pushes a little further, his tip breaching the ring of your ass.

"No—oh—"

Xavier groans behind you, his hips stuttering forward, his cock settling deeper with each tiny movement, until he's finally nestled all the way in.

You've never been this full. And you aren't sure you'll ever settle for less again. This has ruined you.

They only give you a moment to adjust. Xavier breaks first, his arms wrapping around your waist as he starts thrusting.

"You're so fucking tight," Lumiere grits out, his hands gripping your hips in a way that you know will leave bruises. "Fuck—you like this. I can feel you clenching."

His hips raise to meet yours, and then you're gone.

They fuck you brutally through your first orgasm into a second. The burn, the stretch—it's so delicious, so mind-numbingly good that it has your eyes rolling back. Skin slaps against skin, echoing against the walls, the sound as decadent as it is obscene.

Xavier suddenly wrenches you upright, pulling you by the hair against his chest, and bites down on your neck. Lumiere's hand chases your clit, rubbing you roughly, sending you screaming into a third orgasm.

They had both called you bunny, but they were the ones fucking you like animals in heat.

"I'm gonna—" Xavier gasps.

"Ah, fuck, I'm—" Lumiere starts.

You feel them both tense up. A moment later, you're keening again as they spill inside of you, filling you with a hot, liquid heat.

Then you're laying on your back, Lumiere stroking your hair as Xavier settles between your legs, using his fingers to gather up the mess they'd made and push it back into your cunt.

The overstimulation has you moaning brokenly, even as you clench on his fingers. "Xavier, don't..."

"What's the safe word, bunny?" Lumiere asks.

"Red," you murmur.

They wait. You don't say it.

Of course you don't.

"Good girl," Xavier breathes, dipping his head down to tongue at your entrance.

"Don't go to sleep, bunny," Lumiere says, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. His hand slides down your form to rub your clit in slow, gentle circles as Xavier laps greedily at your cunt. "We aren't done playing with you yet."

Thanks for reading! Make sure to give this a like and reblog if you liked it! ❤️

[gilverrwrites]

Take your mind off it

Tim Drake/Reader, 750 words A/N: This is an amalgamation of 2 requests, one for Tim gently eating out his people-pleasing gf, the other for Tim eating out his gf to comfort them after a rough day. I also want Tim between my legs carnally so I can't fault you. Though I've gotta say, Tim is one hell of a hypocrite. He might not be a people-pleaser, but he sure as hell take on to much work and suffers in silence about it. Warnings: Very minor mention of overstim.

The mattress creaks under Tim’s weight as he crawls over you. He’s naked and damp from his post-patrol shower, dark hair scraped back away from his face, cheeks reddened from the steam, and lips pressed into a frown as he examines your heavy eyes and bitten lips.

“What are you still doing up?” It’s not that he isn’t happy to see you still awake. The city had been quiet tonight and he’d been hoping to find you awake if only to help let off some pent-up energy, but he can tell just by looking at you that something is wrong.

“Just couldn’t sleep.” You sigh, a smile cracking on your lips as Tim plants his hands on either side of your head and leans in for a kiss.

His breath is hot on your skin, but after a moment cooled remnants of his wash begin to drip onto your skin making you writhe from the ticklish sensation. You try to bat him away, but he remains firm, eventually grabbing your wrists and pinning them to your pillow. He hovers over you, watching you through wispy, envy-inducing lashes as you struggle to escape his grasp.

“Why can't you sleep?” He quizzes, look on his face tells you he already has the answer. “Have you been overthinking again?”

That knowing expression twists, becoming playfully smug as you sheepishly nod, admitting defeat. His grip doesn’t falter, but eventually, his manner softens as you fill him in on the day you've had. He kisses your neck as you lament about how you’ve once again stretched yourself thin trying to do everything for everyone. His hands slip beneath your sleepwear, and he savours the way your voice hitches as you admit that you’ve no idea how you’ll keep all the promises you’ve made. The problems are so quintessentially you, he can’t help the affectionately sly smirk that spreads across his lips as he starts to kiss his way down your chest.

“You need to learn to say no.” He scolds quietly before hooking his fingers into your bottoms, and without hesitation you lift your hips, allowing him to pull them from you. It should go without saying but he feels the need to tack on; “Not now though! Unless you don’t want to, but I really think that right now you need to relax. Things won’t seem so dire if you get some rest and take your mind off it.”

“You’re right.” You hate to admit it.

Only because he always responds quickly with; “I’m always right.”

There’s no time to dwell on it, however. The moment Tim starts to inch between your legs, you spread them without hesitation, a shiver rolling up your spine when you feel his thumb brush gently along your slit. He rolls the calloused bed against your clit with paper-light pressure until you start to roll your hips, silently begging for more.

You’re in no state to be goaded, so he doesn’t make you wait any longer; quickly sinking his thumb between your lips and into your entrance in one quick movement before putting his mouth to good use. There’s no teasing, no clever comments, just Tim, watching you through adoring blue eyes as he laps at your cunt.

He starts slow, lolling his flat tongue against your clit in lazy, slow motions, soaking up your juices and thoroughly enjoying the way his satisfied groans make you grip his wet hair harder and harder with every hum.

His cock is rock-hard. Unconsciously, he ruts it against your shared bed-sheets but primarily he keeps his focus solely on your clit, fucking your tight pussy with his thumb in short, relaxed pumps between sucking and licking at your sensitive bud to ensure your stimulation. When you start to really squirm, he ups his tempo, locking his free arm over your stomach and chasing after you when you begin to lift your hips. He all but purrs into your heated sex when your grasp in his roots tightens, the resulting vibrations push you over the edge.

You shut your eyes tight, pussy constricting even tighter around his thumb as you reach your climax, but Tim’s eyes are wide open, focused on your blissful face and the way you call his name as your legs shake and your core gushes down his neck. He keeps you in his grip, working at your cunt until your body falls limp, legs still twitching as he boarders overstimulating you. Your answer to his next question will be the deciding factor on whether he crosses that line. “What are you thinking about now?”

[love-and-war-on-cybertron]

Christmas date with Blurr

Short little thing for the holidays. Tried to get his speed talking to show. Have you guys seen that one RATBAT piece of Blurr and the lady?

Blurr revs his engine while you snuggle closer to the warm metal. It was fucking COLD and you were vastly underprepared for it. You had turned back to get a thicker jacket, but a certain blue speedster was impatient and snatched you up before driving off. Yes, the stars twinkled in the sky as beautiful as the lights strung among the trees and light poles. The snow looking glowly, the distant music cheerful. You were fucking freezing. Teeth chattering, goosebumps, can't feel your hands: freezing.

"I'msorrysweetspark, Ijustwantedtomakesurewegotherebeforetheyshutthelightsoff." He spoke rapid-fire as he tried to apologize, revving his engine again. A benefit of having a racer frame boyfriend was how much heat he put off. Miserable in the summer, but perfect in the winter. Despite the huffiness and annoyance, you were gonna soak it all in. Tucked up as close as possible and held in his arms.

It was hard to fault the bot completely. Needing to stay hidden was already difficult when he looked flashy in his altmode, and his regular mode would draw the worst kind of attention. The city had decorated the park into a winter wonderland that would only be up for one more night. Blurr had mentioned it plenty of times, and revealed that he had been scoping the place to find the right time to go with you. Before lights shut off and when there was no one else. Even with the lack of other humans, he had to keep to the trees, close enough to see and no closer.

"The lights are beautiful, even from a distance," he chatters on, carefully tightening his hold on you, nuzzling the side of your head, "Of course they aren't as beautiful as you."

You push at his helm playfully with a giggle, "Cheesy!"

"But true!" He flashes a grin and revs his engine. Heavy footsteps thudding over the snow in the shadows. Your own little hallmark scene, minus the CEO fiancé and small town with an obsession of Christmas. His faceplates find your cheek and he places an obnoxious kiss. You laugh and wiggle out of his grip and onto the snowy ground. Cold be damned, you were gonna throw a snowball at him. Fingers reaching into the icy white blanket beneath you as he cocked his head, trying to figure out what exactly you were doing. His face was so cute… The perfect target.

Blurr steps back in shock as the snowball hits him right between the optics. His mouth agape, steam rising where it melts.

"Sweetsparkhowcouldyou!?" You cackle and make another snowball, intent on getting him again. But the bot is fast and dashes away and around you, scooping you back into his arms, "Ithoughtyoulovedme!" "I do." You reply, before smashing the snowball into his face. He looks shocked again.

"Ohsweetspark, Ithoughtwehadsomething, Ireallydid." He starts walking and you worry you took it too far. Maybe should have explained snowball fights first.

"I'll forgive you this time." He reaches up to the tree you are being held under, and shakes a branch. You let out a screech as ice goes down your thin jacket. Smacking against his plating, you call him a few choice words. He just nuzzles your cheek with a grin and point out how you started it.

"I though you loved me." you repeat his own pitiful declaration of doubt.

"Oh sweetspark. Of course I do!" He sees the way you shiver and chatter worse than before, "Enough to keep you from freezing to death." He finds his way back to the roadway and transforms around you. Once you are comfortably sat in the passenger seat, he activates his holoavatar and turns up the heat.

"Ooooh much better," You settle back in the seat and sigh happily.

"You'll warm up quicker if you take that wet clothing off." The holo-avatar wiggles his brows and you roll your eyes. Blurr drives on, mindful of the ice and resisting the urge to speed through the streets. Watching out the window as city lights fade into sparse streetlights of the highway.

"Why did you want to take me there so badly?" You ask, chin in your hand, "It was nice but…" You stop talking when you glance at the Holo-avatar. It's gone tense, a sign that Blurr is uncomfortable so you drop it.

Blurr isn't heading towards your place, and turns into a neighborhood not your own. You narrow your eyes, mouth open about to question it. Turning the corner, it looks like you're in Santa's village. Every house decked out in lights and decor. Music, lights, the heater going. The only way to make this better would be a big mug of cocoa. You turn with a squeal and look at his holo-avatar, pointing at the giant nutcrackers standing guard.

"Look at them! Look at how cool those are!" A few more streets down, and you unbuckle to scoot closer to the avatar. Leaning against him as he cruises through the neighborhood, up and down each street. Nice and slow. Practically a glacial pace compared to what he prefers. You smile wide and talk about Christmas memories, different gifts you remember and traditions you wish to do again. After going through the large neighborhood, Blurr finds a place to park, still in view of the sparkling lights. Humming along to the music, you rest your head on the shoulder of the avatar, his arm around you. "I saw some couples." His voice crackles over the music, preferring to speak to you this way, even with the facsimile of a person in the driver seat.

"Couples? Walking around?" You look out the window trying to see what he sees, and why he pointed it out.

"At the park." He starts, "I saw couples at the park and thought maybe… Wellyouoncesaidyouwishedwecoulddocouplethings. AndIsawpeopleholdinghandsandwalkingunderthelights. Kissing under a plant."

"Kissing under a plant…" You think for a moment, eyes lighting up as you realize. Leaning close and putting your arms around the avatars neck, you smile "Mistletoe. You wanted to do couple things with me?"

The avatar nods and he speaks quickly again, "Iwantedtospendtimewithyoudoingsomethingspecial. Youseemtoreallylikethistimeofyear. Ieventriedtryingtobuyyouthatchocolatedrinkyoulovesomuchbut-"

You silence him with a kiss to the holo-avatar. It's weird to kiss it. Him, this way. Like kissing an old tv after turning it off, the buzz of static against your lips. The feel of something there, but knowing it was just a very real projection. His engine growls.

"My last partner complained about this all being 'basic bitch' stuff." You said, snuggling closer, "but I love it. Romantic snowy walks under the lights…. A drive with you is just as good. Actually better. I don't have to be cold."

The speedster smiles back, engine growling, "You'renotupsetwecan'tkissunderaplant?"

You grin, reaching for one of your festive Mistletoe earrings and hold it above your head, "I think I can make it happen."

[matsmi13]

From Shadow to Utility

For six long years, Louis had held an administrative position within an organization dedicated to professional integration. His days unfolded like a litany of repetitive tasks: opening files, filling out forms, answering the phone. Each action was performed with mechanical precision, every minute meticulously planned. Yet, behind this well-oiled routine lay a deep sense of invisibility.

Officially, he was "helping" others. Yet every evening, as he stepped into his silent apartment, he questioned whether his own life had any meaning. He consumed bland meals in front of a television turned on more out of habit than genuine interest, before collapsing onto his bed. There, in the darkness, a question haunted him, one he scarcely dared to articulate: "Is this really what it means to live ?" A life dictated by routine, where days blurred into one another in a despairing inertia, like a stagnant river refusing to find its course.

------

One evening, after an especially grueling day, Louis left his office. A fine rain fell, draping the city in a gray veil. But instead of heading toward his apartment, he let his feet carry him aimlessly, as if his body was instinctively searching for an escape from his suffocating routine.

He walked for hours, passing through familiar neighborhoods and then into others he had never explored. Gradually, modern buildings gave way to dilapidated structures. The walls were covered in graffiti, and broken windows stared down at the street like vacant, silent eyes.

A burst of laughter shattered the heavy calm. Intrigued, Louis turned a corner into a dimly lit alley. Under a flickering streetlamp, a group of young people gathered, carefree despite the rain. Standing apart from them, leaning against a wall, was a man. Unlike the others, he didn’t move. His posture radiated an unusual authority, and his shiny tracksuit, glistening in the rain, seemed to catch all the light.

“You lost or something ?” the man asked in a deep voice.

Louis froze, startled. “Uh… No, I mean… Maybe.”

The man smirked, a mix of disdain and curiosity. “This place isn’t for guys like you. What are you looking for ?”

Louis lowered his eyes, fumbling for words. Everything in him screamed that he didn’t belong here, yet some inexplicable force held him in place. In a desperate moment, he looked up. “I’m looking… for something else. A different life. I don’t want this empty existence anymore. I want… I want to matter, to feel alive, to be indispensable.”

The man raised an eyebrow, amused. “Change ? But what are you willing to give up for it ?” He asked, stepping forward, his tone almost taunting.

A heavy silence hung between them. Louis took a deep breath. When he finally spoke, his voice wavered, but a newfound resolve underpinned it : “Everything”.

The man stepped closer, his presence commanding and unyielding. “Everything ? Easy to say. But you’ve never risked anything in your life, have you ? That’s why you feel so empty.”

Each word struck Louis like a slap.

“If you had the chance to change everything, your life, your body, even the memory of who you are, what would you say ? ”

A chilling shiver ran down Louis’s spine. The thought terrified him, but he knew he couldn’t keep living as he had been. In a barely audible whisper, he replied : “I’d say yes”

The man straightened, clearly pleased. “Alright, then. Let’s see. Follow me.”

------

They entered a decrepit building. The lobby reeked of damp concrete, the dim light casting long shadows across peeling walls.

The man stopped in the center of the hall, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a device. Its shape vaguely resembled a weapon, but it emitted a strange, electric hum that seemed to vibrate through the air.

“What is that ?” Louis asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

The man gave an enigmatic smile. “A solution to your wish. You wanted to be useful, right ? Then stand still.”

Louis hesitated, but something in the man’s gaze froze him in place. It wasn’t fear. It was a strange, magnetic authority that made retreat impossible. Before he could voice another question, the device was activated.

A beam of cold light swept over Louis, scanning him from head to toe. He felt an unfamiliar sensation ripple through his body : A tingling that grew into an unbearable intensity, his muscles twitching as though dissolving. He tried to move, but he was completely paralyzed.

Louis’s eyes widened in horror as he looked down at his hands. What he saw froze him in terror. His skin, once warm and organic, began to change. It lost its human texture, becoming smooth, uniform, almost synthetic—like fabric stretched taut.

“What’s happening to me ? What are you doing ?” he stammered, panic rising in his voice.

The man remained eerily calm, his tone almost reassuring. “Relax, bro. You’re becoming what you wanted to be: useful.”

Louis’s limbs stiffened, his breathing slowed, and he felt as though his body was draining of everything that made it alive. His flesh unraveled into threads, intertwining and morphing into a flexible, elastic material. His mind screamed in terror, but no sound escaped his lips.

Then the real horror began : his thoughts started to dissolve. Memories, emotions, every fragment of his identity was systematically erased. The doubts, the regrets, even the concept of who he was faded into an unsettling void.

When the transformation ended, there was no trace of Louis left on the cold, tiled floor. In his place lay a crumpled gray tracksuit, lifeless and motionless.

The man crouched down, picked up the garment, and inspected it with a satisfied grin.

“Welcome to your new life bro” he murmured. “You wanted to be useful, didn’t you ? Now you are. You’re perfect. Just a tracksuit. A piece of clothing serves its purpose every day, everywhere. No need to be seen, no need to exist to matter. Just be there, ready for use. Now, you’re with me, wherever I go.”

He rolled up the tracksuit and tucked it into a gym bag. Without a backward glance, the man straightened and walked out of the building, disappearing into the fine drizzle of rain.

------

Outside, the rain continued to fall, its droplets streaking the sidewalks and splashing against his sneakers with every step. He walked at an unhurried pace, his shoulders relaxed, the gym bag swaying gently at his side.

A few streets away, the others were waiting at the usual spot—a bench under a flickering streetlight.

“Took your sweet time ?” called out a guy in a gray hoodie as he saw him approach. “Where were you ?”

“Yeah, we thought you disappeared with that other dude” added another guy in a black cap, slouched on the bench. “Speaking of which, where is he ?”

“Disappeared ? Nah, not at all” the man in the tracksuit replied casually. He dropped the gym bag onto the wet ground with a dull thud, crouched down, and unzipped it. “The other guy? He’s right here”

He reached into the bag and tugged lightly at a sleeve.

A low whistle escaped one of the guys.

A heavy silence hung in the air for a moment.

Then one of them burst out laughing. “No way ! Are you serious ?” he said, standing up from the bench, his eyes wide. “You really did that ?”

“Yeah” the man shrugged, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. “He said he wanted a ‘new life,’ didn’t he? Well, he’s got one now.”

The others roared with laughter. Not one of them protested. Not one demanded an explanation.

“Oh, man, the poor guy” chuckled the one in the black cap. “He wanted to ‘change,’ but he didn’t exactly say into what ! And look at it ! brand new ! Smooth, clean...”

“Honestly, it’s better for him this way” the man in the tracksuit added, tucking the sleeve back into the bag and zipping it shut. “At least now he’s useful.”

“Totally” agreed the guy in the black cap. “What was he doing before anyway ? Always whining. ‘My life sucks,’ ‘I’m tired of it,’ blah blah blah. Well, now he’s got a real purpose!”

“Exactly” said the man in the tracksuit, crossing his arms. “Some people spend their whole lives trying to find their place. His? It’s right here, in this bag. And guess what? He’s not going anywhere.”

The laughter erupted again, crude and unfiltered. For them, the logic was simple : You’re either useful, or you become useful.

“So, when are you gonna put him on ?” asked the guy in the hoodie.

The man in the tracksuit shrugged, a thoughtful look on his face. “Nah, it’s raining and he’s still ‘fresh.’ Gonna keep him warm for now. Don’t worry. He’ll get his turn.”

“Haha, yeah, keep him clean” added the one in the cap. “A piece like that? You gotta take care of it. Trust me, it’ll fit like a glove when you’re ready. A good tracksuit never lets you down.”

The conversation shifted after that, moving on to other trivial topics.

The bag itself sat still near the bench, looking like any other gym bag. But if someone had listened closely, they might have heard a faint rustling, the subtle sound of fabric shifting ever so slightly. A tension, almost imperceptible, that only silence could reveal.

The man in the tracksuit glanced down at the bag, a faint smirk curling his lips.

“See ?” he muttered. “You should’ve kept quiet bro. But hey, you’re better off now. You wanted to change, didn’t you ? Well, you’ve changed.”

He crossed his arms and let his gaze wander down the empty street, his friends’ chatter fading into the background.

“At least now you’ve got a place. No more excuses, no more ‘I don’t know what to do.’ You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. Useful. Invisible. Always ready.”

-----

A few days later, the man in the tracksuit pulled the garment from his bag, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. Louis no longer existed, not as a man. He had become this flawless piece of clothing, ready to serve its purpose.

The man held it up with a sense of pride, examining the smooth, perfect fabric under the dim light. Slowly, he slipped his arms into the sleeves, adjusting each one with care. The material clung to him, molding to his body like a second skin. Next, he pulled on the pants, ensuring the fit was just right, the fabric draping neatly over his hips and legs.

He stood in front of the mirror, turning side to side, admiring the seamless ensemble. A smirk played on his lips as he pulled out his phone, angling it just so to take a selfie. The shot captured him perfectly: his new tracksuit gleaming under the light, paired with his crisp TN sneakers.

“Perfect” he muttered, his voice low and smug. “Finally useful. Finally in your place ”

Outside, life carried on as usual. The rain had stopped, and the streets were busy with people going about their routines. The man walked through the crowd, blending in effortlessly. To anyone watching, he was just another guy in a tracksuit, nothing out of the ordinary.

Yet every step he took felt deliberate. The fabric moved with him, adapting to his body as if it had always been a part of him. No discomfort, no awkward folds. Just perfection.

Louis was there, quiet and unseen, but undeniably functional. For the first time, he was exactly what he’d always wanted to be : Be useful.

-----

Louis was no longer a man. He was fabric, fibers, and seams. Each thread, each strand had a purpose, a role to play. This was his new reality. No more questions, no more internal struggles. He was no longer human. He was a tracksuit, perfectly crafted to fulfill its function.

Louis stretched, and moved with the man, adapting seamlessly to his every motion. He had become an extension of him, a simple layer of material between the man's skin and the outside world.

The warmth of the human body transferred to the fabric, more and more intensely as the effort increased. Sweat began to bead on the man’s skin, and Louis, now inanimate, absorbed it without hesitation. Each drop, each trace of perspiration soaked into him, the texture of the fabric imperceptibly changing with the contact. There was no discomfort, no resistance. Sweat was no longer an unpleasant sensation; it was part of his purpose. Each droplet slid over him, vanishing into the fibers designed for this exact task.

Louis moistened himself, and the man’s body heat enveloped it, oppressive but entirely functional. Louis felt every movement, every gesture. The bottom of the tracksuit, taut over the man’s legs, hugged each stride, each step. It remained in constant contact with his skin, absorbing the energy of every motion. It stretched, tightened, and moved with the fluidity of action. Louis felt useful, and in that feeling, he found fulfillment.

The man paused for a moment, and Louis silently registered the pressure of his hands on his thighs, fingers gently gripping the fabric. With every movement, the tracksuit responded without sound, smoothing, stretching, adapting.

When the man started to run, the sensation shifted again. The heat intensified, and sweat poured more freely, soaking into the fabric. As a tracksuit, Louis absorbed it all—the moisture, the warmth, ensuring that nothing irritated the man’s skin. He became a vessel for this perspiration, containing it, holding it within himself, all while remaining entirely at the man’s service. With every breath the man took, every movement that grew sharper and faster, Louis stretched a little further, perfectly conforming to the contours of this body with unwavering loyalty.

The heat, the sweat, the contact. This was all Louis knew now. He didn’t think about what he had become. He had no doubts, no regrets. All he felt was the constant presence of the man against him, a pressure he absorbed, a movement he followed, never ceasing. The sweat became his new texture, an organic extension of his existence. It weighed him down, bringing him closer to his purpose. He was made for this: to absorb, to hold, to endure. It wasn’t a burden; it was his role. A tracksuit that served, that helped, that allowed itself to be worn.

At the end of the day, the man, exhausted, returned home. Louis felt the transition, the return to stillness. The fabric relaxed slightly, settling into the man’s folds.

Louis was simply a garment, and in that simplicity, he found his reason for being. He was useful. He had a purpose. He was perfect in his new form, exactly as he was meant to be. Nothing more.

[femd-archive]

BROKEN HEATER

pairing: love and deepspace — xavier/shen xinghui x fem!reader

word counting: 1.3k

content warning: couch sex | slight fingersucking | slight mention of nipple stimulation | vaginal penetration | reader rides xavier

summary: the heater breaks and the house gets very cold. xavier suggests steamy sex to get your bodies heated up.

side note: english is not my first lenguage, so i apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes.

It was yours and Xavier's day off, and to deal with the cold weather that winter brings to Linkon City, you guys decided to pass by your favorite bakery and buy some of your favorite pastries to eat with some hot chocolate at home —your apartment—.

As you enter your apartment, both of you hang your scarfs and jackets side by side on the clothes rack next to the door, and after you take your shoes off, Xavier starts walking towards your kitchen to make the hot chocolate himself, making you panic.

"Xavier" you call him out as you put the bag of pastries down on the kitchen counter and grab his arm. He looks back at you with the most clueless eyes in the world. "I'm gonna take care of the hot chocolate, yeah?" you say along a nervous chuckle. "Meanwhile, could you take care of cutting down the pastries and turn the heater on?"

Xavier looks back at you, a little pout forming on his lips. "But I wanted to make the chocolate" he says, the pout obvious on his voice.

Patting his shoulder, you walk past him to grab a stewpot, along the cocoa powder and the milk. "You can do it next time...while we're at your apartment" you add at the end, not wanting to put your kitchen at risk while Xavier cooks, or attempts to do so.

Resigned, Xavier ends up doing what you asked, always with a pout. After cutting the pastries down and putting the plate on the coffee table on the living room, he next walks towards your heater, trying and failing to turn it on after multiple tries.

As you walk into the livingroom with two mugs of hot chocolate, you find Xavier squating in front of the heater with furrowed eyebrows.

"What's wrong?" leaving the mugs on the coffee table, you approach Xavier and squat next to him.

"I can't seem to get it on" he says, giving the heater a light smack, as if that would fix magically.

You let out a little 'ooh' when you suddenly remember something. "Oh yeah, now I remember that it broke down last week, so it surely it's not gonna work" I give his shoulder another pat. "It's alright, you can borrow a sweater of mine if you're cold" Xavier nods at that and both of you stand up to walk towards the couch to enjoy the hot chocolae with your favorite pastries.

You take a bite of that new pastry the bakery had on stock and you brought to try, and hum at how delicious it actually was. "You should try this one" you tell Xavier as you offer him a bite of the bake good. And how could he say no to you and a pastry?

Leaning in, he takes the bite as he looks up at you with those pretty blue eyes of his, and you feel how his lips brush against your fingers, and by the little smirk on Xavier's face and the way he licks the cream off of the corner of his mouth after pulling away, you know he's doing it on purpose.

"It's delicious" he says with that tender voice of his, his eyes never leaving your face. Was he really talking about the pastry at this point?

The afternoon went by, and the plate that once was full of the pastries and the mugs with hot chocolate were now empty. Now, you and Xavier were cuddled on the couch, a blanket throwed over the both of you as you watched a movie that you find while changing the channels on the TV.

After a while, the lack of the heater started to make a number on the tempeture of the apartment and your own, making you shiver slightly before you could even stop yourself, which obviously didn't go unnoticed by Xavier.

While rubbing his hand up and down your arm, he asks. "Are you cold?" and you know there's no use on lying to him.

"Just a little" you mumble, looking up at him and giving him a slight smile before going back to the movie and to try not to shiver anymore.

After contemplaiting it for a while in silence, Xavier speaks up again. shocking you with his next words. "Then I guess we should fuck to bring the heat back up" as you look up at him again, he smiles down at you like he hadn't just say the most sinful thing in the most calm manner.

After a moment of shock, you speak again. "Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asks back as he tilts his head like a confused puppy. "What other way we have to not get cold?"

"Uh...socks? Sweaters? Blankets? More hot chocolate?" you listed out, as they were the more obvious things in the world.

Still, Xavier's eyebrows furrowed as he acted like he was thinking it out, before shaking his head.

"Not enough" he hums in a low tone, looking intensely into your eyes.

And before you can even notice, your cozy clothes were already on the floor next to the couch, only your socks remaining in both of you. The sound of the long forgotten movie playing on the background as it mixed with your moans and the way your skins slapped against each other as you ride Xavier like your life depend on it, a thin layer of sweat already appearing on both your bodies.

Xavier's hands wandered aroud your waist before going up your stomach and finally cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing against your sensitive pecks as he attentively looks at your face as your moan freely and looking beautiful as little drops of sweat rolls from down your temple to your neck.

He thinks you look stunning as you use him to get heat up from the cold.

As your hips soon get tired, you look down at your boyfriend before leaning down to kiss him messily, both your tongues pushing against each other as your hands run against his blond hair, rolling your hips on him as his thick cock swollens even more inside of you.

"Are you not cold anymore?" he ask teasingly against your lips, being really obvious that by the way you're sweating and even your cheeks are rosy that you are, in fact, not cold anymore.

"Mmh, no I'm not...but it seems like you still are,do you wanna do something about it?" you whisper against his lips as well, pecking them and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Yes" he simply answered in a whispered hoarse tone, wrapping his arms around your waist and starting to thrust his hips upwards, fucking into you.

Xavier's thick cock rub against your velvety walls with a heavy speed, his soft lips leaving kisses down your neck and shoulders as he if wasn't fucking into you like a mad men.

"Fuck..." you moan on the low, feeling the way he hitted all the right spots with each thrust.

Your eyes meet, and your thumb changes from brushing his cheek to slowly shove it in between his lips, which Xavier gladly takes and sucks on it as he diligently keeps on fucking you.

The clock strikes ten at night and the third movie is already playing on the TV when, after several orgasms, you and Xavier finally end up lying exhausted on the couch, skin now sticking stickily against each other, but neither of you care as you cuddle up next to each other.

Xavier holds you close, wrapping his arms around you as he leaves kisses along your face, not caring that it's covered in sweat, but you did.

"I need to take a shower now" you let out with an exhausted sigh.

"I'll join you" without waiting for you to invite him, Xavier had already gotten up from the couch and started walking behind you as you headed to the bathroom, watching you with one of his sweet smiles.

And how could you say no to him when he looks at you like that?