#(and yeah reflection is difficult but I tried)

[pathologicalreid]

put a bow on it | s.r.

in which Spencer is in charge of doing both of your daughters hair in the morning

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: twin dad!spencer AND girl dad!spencer. twin jealousy. word count: 1.5k a/n: twin dad!spencer!!!! a pathologicalreid first!! this one goes out to arya because she let me ramble about this idea lolololol

The pout that was being reflected in the mirror reminded him of you. At another time, he would’ve found it cute, adorable even, that one of your daughters had adopted your mannerisms, but right now, he was running late. 

He’d spent hours over the past week assuring you that you didn’t need to move your appointment this morning and he was more than capable of getting the girls off to school on his own. Breakfast was easy enough—they liked his french toast more than yours anyway—and the girls were old enough to lay their own outfits out the night before, but what he hadn’t anticipated was what happened after their teeth were brushed and he was handed two combs. 

It was something you enjoyed, individualizing the girls’ hair every day before school, but aside from a classic ponytail, he wasn’t well versed in styling their hair. Naturally, a ponytail wasn’t going to cut it today. 

“I wanted mommy to curl it,” June insisted, pointing at the curling iron that was neatly hung away from the reach of tiny hands. She’d been the first to scowl at the offer of a ponytail, insisting that her hair had to be done precisely the way she wanted it. 

Eyeing the hot tool warily, Spencer quickly tried to put together an excuse that the five year old would accept, but he came up empty. “I don’t think I should use something hot until mommy shows me how to use it,” he tried to explain. 

As if on cue, June tilted her head to the side curiously and asked, “Why not?” 

Admittedly, he had walked right into that one, but he sighed and scrambled for the answer, “Because you might get hurt.”

Big, brown eyes stared up at him, waiting for further explanation to satisfy her inquisitive nature, but instead of it coming from him, it came from her twin, standing on the other side of the counter. “It’s like the stove,” Edie offered, trying to climb up on the bathroom counter and frowning when Spencer gently tugged her down. 

Realization flooded June’s eyes, “Oh, you need an adult to use the curler.” She rattled off the answer that made sense to her. 

With both girls standing on their respective stepstools—engraved with their names and bedazzled by Aunt Penelope—Spencer took a deep breath. “Exactly,” He conceded. “So, what do you want me to do with your hair?”

“Braids, please!” Edith piped up with her request, but those were outside of Spencer’s skillset. You’d been teaching him how to braid the girls’ hair, but it was difficult to find the time and to get to stay still. Fruit snack bribery only got you so far. 

June looked pensively in the mirror, shrugging off her frustration about the curling iron and looking up at Spencer, “Can you do a half-pony?” 

“I can’t, but I appreciate your manners,” he responded to Edith first before turning to June, “Can you show me what a half-pony is?” He asked, making a note of the hairstyle jargon that he was getting a crash course on. 

June nodded happily, pulling strands of her hair back from her face and gathering them at the back of her head in her little fingers, “And then you do a bow.” 

He frowned slightly, “A bow?”

Junie beamed, “Yeah, a matchy bow.”

Spencer was familiar with the tote filled with bows that you’d invested in over the years, he was convinced they had a bow for every outfit. “Can you pick a bow?” He moved the tote on the counter in front of her, hoping to solve the issue of needing a matching bow by having her choose one on her own. He turned his attention to Edith, who had traded expressions with her twin and now bore a pout. “What’s wrong, honey?” 

“I wanted braids,” Edie explained, dragging her fingers down each side of her head to show that she wanted french braids. Disappointed tears welled in her eyes, and the fact that Spencer couldn’t fix the issue broke his heart. 

He frowned slightly, “Hey, no tears,” he cooed. “What if I try to do little braids?” His offer was a carefully calculated plan, using words that he’d heard you use before when talking about the girls’ hair. These weren’t french braids, little braids would start at the base of her neck and go to the ends of her hair. 

Woefully, Edith nodded, fiddling with the cuff of her sweater while she eyed the bows her sister was deliberating on. “Can I have a bow too?” 

“You can have two if you’d like,” Spencer proposed, “One for each braid.” He accepted the bow that June was holding out for him and slid the tote over to Edith. 

June gaped at his offer, “I want two bows!” 

Somewhere, he had misstepped, “She gets two bows because she wants two braids, you only wanted one pony.” He was fairly certain he was approaching pigtail territory, and his almost never turned out even. 

“I want two!” June exclaimed, waiting a moment before speaking up again, “Please.” 

Spencer nodded reassuringly, “Okay, but no more changes,” he told her, knowing she was already on her third hairstyle of the day. 

She nodded happily at his compromise, producing the matching bow that she had already fished out of the tote for him. June teetered on the balls of her feet excitedly at the prospect of getting pigtails while he sprayed her hair with detangler, just barely starting to comb her hair back for the pigtails when she flinched away from him. 

His heart jumped for a moment, fearful that he’d pulled too hard on her head, but he relaxed when she spoke up, “That’s not how mommy does it.” 

No, he supposed it’s not how you would do it, but then again, you would’ve been able to curl her hair the way she wanted, avoiding the realm of pigtails entirely. “Trust me on this,” he tried to reassure her despite his rapidly dwindling confidence. 

June put her head back in place, letting him brush her hair back before parting it down the middle. He glanced up at the mirror, watching Edith as she took her own brush in her hands and started raking it through her hair. “I’ll do yours in a minute, Edie,” he told her, not wanting her to feel like she had to do it on her own. 

“She always goes first,” Edith whined, slightly out of character for your bashful daughter. Spencer frowned slightly, not realizing her had conformed to the general order of things. 

“Cuz I’m older,” June countered pointedly, glancing up at her father to gauge his reaction to her claim, but Spencer remained stone faced. Both of you had decided to refrain from revealing which twin is older, and it’s saved you from dozens of arguments along the way. 

Spencer hummed, wrapping the first elastic around June’s hair, “I’ll let mommy know, and you can go first tomorrow.” 

Junie huffed at his dedication to keeping the secret, but her scowl turned into a grin when she saw her hair. A golden rush of victory led to a sigh of relief from him, clipping her bows to her pigtails while she bounced in excitement. He had a sneaking feeling she didn’t act this way when you did her hair, meaning all of this joy was solely for him. 

When it was Edie’s turn, Spencer still combed through her hair, even though she had done most of it on her own. She fiddled with the peeling laminate of the bathroom counter while he braided her hair, talking himself through the process—left, center, right, center—and hoping he wouldn’t get them mixed up. 

June was unable to stand still any longer, so Spencer told her she could go watch cartoons until it was time to leave. “Is she older?” Edith mumbled slightly. 

Spencer shrugged, tying off her braid with a bow that previously belonged to a doll, “Does it matter?”

She sighed in a way that only a five year old could, “Guess not.”

“You’re still twins, you were born on the same day,” Spencer tried to explain in a way she would accept. 

“Is that why we have the same birthday?” She asked, fumbling through her words—birfday. 

He hummed a confirmation, “Yeah, because your birthday is the day you were born.” He tied off the second braid before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. 

She was quiet for a moment, he thought she was pondering birthdays, so he was surprised when she whispered, “Daddy?” 

“Yeah, baby?” He responded. 

Pointing at her hair, Edith gave him a sympathetic look while silently showing him the huge chunk of hair that had been left out of the braids.

“I think mommy’s gonna have to give me another braiding lesson,” he told her, unraveling the braid so he could try it again. 

Edie nodded mournfully, “I think so too.”

[hamliet]

Do you ever find it difficult to be a fan of a show or movie or any form of media that’s considered flawed, I love both Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss, while both shows have their quirks there’s so much nuanced to them and it can be pretty frustrating seeing thumbnails on YouTube videos spreading so much misinformation and negativity, the same goes for the Last Jedi and The Acolyte.

Yeah haha. I'm going to echo what my friend @aspoonofsugar said here. It's good to have a friend to salt with whenever you see bad takes, and also writing my own metas helps me process my thoughts, to work out why I disagree with a take.

Believe it or not, also, there are plenty of people who make valid critiques and/or who don't even like stuff I love for valid reasons! We can come to different conclusions, and also have different tastes. But admittedly, a lot of the stuff you're talking about for the Hellaverse, TLJ, The Acolyte, and RWBY? It's... not that. It's "you should feel bad for liking this," and intellectual dishonesty paired with a bunch of microaggressions and a disdain for academia that, like the Emperor with new clothes, pretends said disdain is actually brilliant analysis.

Also, there are definitely patterns between which media gets punted by dudebros on YouTube. Namely, the stories appear to almost always be female centric and often have a queer component as well. That's not a coincidence. Sadly for the world, people think punching each other harder but with math (10% increase! 100%!) is more compelling storytelling than characters reflecting on who they love and what makes them who they are.

Frankly though, punching can work as a character development tool but I do think that a lot of the criticism isn't in good faith and refuses to examine stories that follow less traditional tried-and-true mass appeal structures with the same level of critique and evaluate them at the same level of value. They start from the assumption that it's beneath, and work to dismantle it from there. And truly no story is perfect, so there's always going to be something to grab hold of.

But the main thing is that there's no good faith in that approach. There's nothing wrong with disliking something and trying to pick it apart to discern why. Again, a lot of my critical metas start from that perspective. The problem is that if you go into it knowing you won't like it, you already have a conclusion, and thereby you're not examining it to discern why. You're examining it to justify your own self and taste, not even bothering to consider what the narrative is trying to accomplish and why it fails or succeeds from other perspectives.

It's funny, I've also started examining why I didn't like some aspects of a story and in the end rethought my perspective and realized it did work for the narrative, even if it wasn't my taste. But if there is nothing wrong with the narrative, or if you start splitting hairs to get to a problem and ignore the same glaring problem in something you like, then you might have to examine why your taste tells you that queer media is always shallow or why female characters irritate you, and no one wants to face that about themselves. Especially not people who genuinely believe and want to be allies. I don't think a lot of these people are badly intentioned. I just think they aren't willing to self-examine in a lot of ways. Like, I have a grudge against that YouTuber who made the dastardly RWBY video, for example, for this reason.

At the same time, not all people are well-intentioned either. Like that #yikes RWBY snark subreddit that likes to repost my metas and take them apart when they have never published a literary analysis paper in their life and think TikTok is close reading. Yes, I'm being snarky and kinda petty here. There are valid critiques of my metas. Very valid. But not on that subreddit, which exists to bully and boast about anti-intellectualism. And those kinds of outrage bad faith rants generate clicks.

[omint]

mirror

[julietsf1]

For Her - Lando Norris x Reader

summary: She came to support him. Instead, she was met with hate and a paddock full of people who acted like she didn’t exist. But if there was one thing about Lando Norris, it was that he loved out loud (3.2k words)

content: protective boyfriend, public relationship, public displays of affection, romantic grand gesture

AN: happy new season guys!!! what a race, I hope china will be kinder with my heart :') here's another fic for our race winner! muah <3

........................................................................

The first race of the season should have been magical.

It should have been the kind of morning you’d always imagined—walking through the paddock with the giddy excitement of someone witnessing greatness up close, feeling the electricity in the air, the intoxicating mix of tire smoke, adrenaline, and champagne already waiting for its moment in the podium spray. You had thought of how proud you would feel watching Lando, how thrilling it would be to see him in his element, how belonging you might feel in a world that, until now, had existed for you in stories and through screens.

You had not imagined being denied entry.

"Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to step back."

The security guard barely spared you a glance, already moving on to the next person in line, his voice impassive, as if he had done this a hundred times before and you were simply another face in a sea of hopeful girls who had tried to talk their way into the paddock.

You gripped your lanyard a little tighter, your heart skipping slightly. "I have a pass," you said, voice gentle but firm as you lifted it to eye level, the McLaren logo glinting in the sunlight.

The guard exhaled sharply through his nose, unimpressed. "We've had a lot of fans trying to sneak in today. If you don’t have the right accreditation, I can’t let you through."

Your stomach twisted.

"I do have the right accreditation," you tried again, as kindly as possible, despite the heat creeping up your neck. "I’m with McLaren. My boyfriend-"

"Yeah, that’s what they all say."

The words were clipped, dismissive, and spoken with the kind of flat finality that suggested he had already decided you were lying.

Embarrassment coiled in your chest, wrapping itself around your lungs, making it suddenly difficult to breathe.

You stood there, cheeks burning, as people brushed past you, throwing curious glances your way. The seconds stretched endlessly, each one more excruciating than the last.

It wasn’t until a McLaren staff member recognized you—"Oh, she’s with Lando," they had said offhandedly—that the security guard finally stepped aside, not bothering with so much as an apology.

By the time you walked through the gates, the joy you had carried that morning had dulled into something smaller, something fragile.

And then, somehow, it got worse.

...

The McLaren motorhome stood like a beacon in the paddock, its sleek glass windows reflecting the bustle of team personnel moving inside. You exhaled slowly, shaking off the earlier embarrassment, and made your way toward the hospitality lounge, longing for something warm and familiar.

A latte, perhaps. Something to reset the day.

You stepped up to the hospitality counter with a practiced sort of grace, the kind that had been instilled in you from your childhood—shoulders back, chin lifted, a polite smile even when you wanted to disappear.

The woman behind the counter was stunning in a sharp, effortless way, her McLaren uniform crisp, her dark eyes shrewd, assessing. She barely looked up when you stepped forward.

"Good morning," you greeted, your voice light, pleasant. "Could I get an oat latte, please?"

The woman’s gaze flicked to you then, sweeping over you in a way that wasn’t unkind but wasn’t exactly warm, either.

"Are you with media?" she asked, already sounding bored.

You shook your head, still polite. "No, I’m—"

"Hospitality is for team guests only," she interrupted, her words clipped, a polite but unmistakable dismissal.

There was something about the way she said it, the way her lips curled just slightly, that sent something sharp down your spine.

You held up your accreditation again, your expression kind but unwavering. "I am a team guest. It is my first race though! I'm with Lando."

A pause. A flicker of something in her gaze.

And then, a small, almost imperceptible smirk.

"Ah," she said slowly, like she was only just now realizing. "Of course you are."

There was something else behind her tone, something you recognized.

You had met people like her before, in glittering lobbies, at perfectly curated events, in spaces where perception was everything. People who measured others in careful glances and quiet, ruthless judgments.

The woman tilted her head, her smile suddenly saccharine. "I’m afraid we’re only serving certain guests at the moment."

The words landed with the soft cruelty of a velvet dagger.

She wasn’t saying no outright.

She was refusing you while pretending it was about something else entirely.

You stared at her for a moment, your fingers tightening slightly over the strap of your bag.

You could have fought. Could have pointed out that this was ridiculous, that you had every right to be here, that her behavior was as transparent as it was petty.

But instead, you simply let out a soft breath and smiled.

Not the kind of smile that was warm and grateful.

The kind of smile that veiled the frustration you were feeling.

"No worries," you said gently, dipping your head, your voice smooth, graceful. "I wouldn’t want to trouble you."

And with that, you turned and walked away, back straight, head held high, because if nothing else—you were not the kind of woman who begged.

But it still stung.

...

The hotel room is quiet except for the faint murmur of the city outside. The occasional car hums past beneath the window, the distant noises of Melbourne nightlife drifting in through the small gap in the balcony door. Inside, the glow from the bedside lamp casts soft golden light over the pristine sheets, the half-finished cup of tea you abandoned hours ago, and your phone—face-down, untouched, deliberately ignored.

You had set it aside like it burned you.

And in a way, it had.

You don’t need to look at the screen to know what’s waiting for you there.

A photo. You, walking alone through the paddock, caught at an unflattering angle—your hands adjusting the strap of your bag, your gaze flicking off to the side. Out of context, impersonal, just another frame in someone else’s story.

But the caption beneath it?

That made it personal.

The caption beneath it, however, was anything but subtle.

"Classic gold digger. No personality, no job, just another wag looking for a paycheck."

The replies were worse.

"She looks so full of herself. I bet she spends his money like crazy."

"Lando deserves better. She looks disgusting."

"Does she even like racing or just his wallet?"

You had expected something like this eventually. Being seen always came at a cost.

But expectation doesn’t soften the blow.

It doesn’t make the words less sharp. It doesn’t stop them from settling in the quiet places of your mind, the ones that whisper in the dark when the world is still.

You exhale slowly, smoothing your hand over the sheets, willing away the tightness in your throat.

It’s fine.

You were raised to handle things like this with grace, with an understanding that women who stand beside successful men are often reduced to spectators, accessories, footnotes in their own stories.

You know who you are. You know your worth.

And yet, knowing doesn’t stop the sting.

A keycard beeps at the door.

Then, the soft sound of it swinging open, of footsteps—light, easy, carrying a kind of restless energy even now.

"Hi, darling," Lando’s voice fills the space before he does.

You don’t turn immediately, letting yourself blink once, twice, composing yourself in the quiet before offering a small smile as he steps inside.

He looks effortlessly disheveled—his hair still damp from the rain outside, his McLaren polo slightly untucked, the fabric creased like he’d run a hand over it one too many times.

He is still buzzing—from the high of the weekend, from the thrill of being back in the car, from the sheer joy of doing what he loves.

And then he looks at you.

And everything shifts.

His grin falters. His brows pull together.

"Hey," he says again, but softer this time, slower. "What’s wrong?"

You hesitate, fingers brushing against the sheets. "It’s nothing."

Lando stills.

"You’re upset."

It’s not a question.

You exhale, tilting your head slightly, lips curving in something almost amused. "No big deal, this is your weekend."

But Lando doesn’t smile.

Instead, he moves—crossing the room in three long strides, sinking down in front of you, his hands warm against your thighs, his gaze level, intent.

"Tell me," he says, quiet but firm.

All day, you have been ignored, dismissed, treated like an inconvenience. And yet, here he is, giving you his undivided attention, his entire world narrowing down to this moment, to you.

You hesitate. Then, finally, you murmur, "People weren’t exactly kind today."

His grip on your legs tightens just slightly.

"Security thought I was a fan trying to sneak in. Hospitality wouldn’t serve me." You let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking your head. "And now there’s a photo of me online. People saying I’m a disgusting gold digger."

Lando doesn’t move.

Doesn’t even breathe.

Then, slowly, he reaches for your phone, flipping it over with careful precision before scrolling. He doesn’t need you to guide him—he finds it immediately.

His jaw tightens.

And then, in a tone so low and steady that it makes your stomach flip:

"Are you joking?"

You open your mouth, but he’s already shaking his head, pushing himself up, pacing now, running a hand through his curls.

"Such bullshit," he starts, turning sharply, voice too controlled, too even, "that after everything—after how much effort you’ve put into being here, after how much of your life you’ve adjusted for me—these people had the nerve to treat you like that?"

You shift under his gaze, biting your lip. "Lando, it’s not—"

"No, no, hold on," he interrupts, hands in the air like he needs a second to process. He lets out a short, disbelieving laugh, but there’s nothing amused about it.

"Because from where I’m standing, you’re the easiest person to love in any room, and I genuinely don’t understand how anyone could be that dense."

He exhales sharply, shaking his head, jaw tight. "Honestly, I don’t even know whether to be pissed or impressed by their level of dickheadness."

He stops, inhales sharply, then turns back to you.

"Tomorrow," he says, voice steady now, decisive. "We fix this."

You raise a brow. "We?"

Lando tilts his head, giving you a look like you have just asked if the sky is blue.

"Obviously."

...

There are very few things in life that can silence an entire paddock.

Lando Norris walking in hand-in-hand with you is apparently one of them.

The usual morning commotion—the hurried strides of engineers, the murmured strategy discussions, the distant hum of espresso machines—all of it seems to slow, the air shifting as one by one, heads turn.

Eyes follow you as you move through the paddock, curiosity crackling in the air like static before a storm.Conversations taper off, whispers trailing in your wake, phones discreetly lifted, cameras capturing the moment in real time.

Lando, of course, is unbothered.

If anything, he thrives under the weight of their attention. His grip on your hand remains firm, steady, unwavering, his strides unhurried, his smirk bordering on self-satisfied.

He wants them to see.

It’s deliberate—the way he holds you close, the way his fingers brush over yours in soft, thoughtless patterns, the way his head tilts toward you slightly every time you speak, like you are the only thing worth listening to.

There is no question about what this is.

There is no question about where you belong.

He makes sure of it.

And then, with perfect, almost cinematic timing, he steers you toward McLaren hospitality.

Right to the coffee bar.

The barista from yesterday stands behind the counter, the same sharp-cut uniform, the same perfectly applied lipstick, the same calculating gaze.

Only now, it falters.

She sees Lando before she sees you, her posture straightening, professional mask slipping into place like second nature. But then, her eyes flick toward you—toward your hands intertwined, toward the subtle, unspoken intimacy of the way he keeps close.

You watch as realization dawns.

Oh.

Lando leans against the counter, effortless, grinning.

"Two oat lattes," he says, voice bright, easy, amused. "One for me, one for my girl."

The silence that follows is exquisite.

The barista hesitates—just for a fraction of a second, just long enough for you to see it.

Panic.

"Of course," she says, voice smooth but not quite as sharp as before.

And just like that, there are no shortages, no waiting, no excuses.

The coffees are made within seconds.

Lando watches, humming thoughtfully, tapping his fingers lightly against the counter as she slides the first cup toward him. He lifts it to his lips, taking a slow, exaggerated sip before letting out a long, obnoxiously satisfied hum.

"Mm," he muses, shifting his weight, sparing her a glance. "Tastes better today."

His smirk is dangerous.

"Must be the service."

The barista’s lips press together just slightly.

You take your coffee, cradling the cup in your hands, offering her a soft, serene smile.

"Thank you," you say lightly.

You watch as she winces.

And Lando, the ever-efficient instigator that he is, takes it one step further.

"You know," he muses, as if the thought has just occurred to him, "I think I should make this a tradition."

He turns to you then, eyes bright with mischief, voice just loud enough for the surrounding staff to hear.

"Morning coffee," he says smoothly. "Every race weekend. For the foreseeable future."

The barista looks like she wants to disappear.

You, on the other hand, can’t help but smile.

...

The checkered flag had waved, the roar of the crowd still vibrating through the air, but none of it mattered—not the celebrations, not the flashing cameras, not the McLaren team swarming the pit wall in victory.

Because the moment Lando climbed out of the car, eyes scanning the chaos, he found you.

And then—he ran.

Straight toward you, helmet discarded, race suit half-unzipped, curls a disheveled mess from the heat of the cockpit.

You barely have time to react before he collides into you, arms wrapping around your waist, lifting you off the ground like you weigh nothing.

You shriek—an actual, real shriek—as your feet leave the pavement, the entire world tilting as he spins you in circles,laughter spilling from his lips like he can’t contain it.

And then—he kisses you.

Right there, in front of thousands of fans, in front of cameras, reporters, his entire team.

Hard. Fierce. Like he’d won the race and you in the same breath.

The world erupts around you—cheering, chanting, Oscar groaning dramatically in the background.

"Oh my god. You two are disgusting."

None of it matters.

Because Lando is grinning against your lips, breathless, victorious, yours.

When he finally sets you back down, he doesn’t let go.

Doesn’t even try to.

Instead, he beams down at you, cheeks flushed, curls damp with sweat, voice all cocky, all Lando.

"So, did I impress you or what?"

You roll your eyes, fond and exasperated all at once. "Eh. You were alright."

He gasps. Actually gasps.

"You’re joking." He turns toward the cameras, mock-betrayed. "Did you guys hear that? I win a Grand Prix, and she says I’m ‘alright.’"

You bite your lip, pretending to consider. "You were pretty fast, I guess."

"Pretty fast?" he repeats, positively scandalized. "Babe. I am literally the fastest man in Australia right now."

You burst out laughing. "I was kind of rooting for Oscar."

Oscar, mid-drink of water behind you, chokes.

"Lies." Lando pulls you back in, forehead resting against yours, his voice dropping into something softer, something just for you.

"Say you’re proud of me."

You sigh dramatically. "I guess I’m—"

"Say it."

You grin, heart pounding. "Fine. I’m proud of you, Norris."

He hums, satisfied, smug, still absolutely glowing. "Thought so."

...

Lando was still riding the high when he got to the media pen, his race suit unzipped to his waist, curls damp with sweat, and that stupidly charming grin still plastered across his face.

It wasn’t just a ‘first win of the season’ grin.

It was a ‘my girlfriend is here, and I just won a whole-ass race for her’ grin.

The interviewer barely got a word in before Lando pointed directly at you, standing just off-camera.

"Her."

You blink. "Me?"

"Yeah, you!" He turns back to the cameras, nodding enthusiastically. "Let’s just get this straight—I did this for her. Like, entirely. One hundred percent. Full motivation. If she hadn’t shown up, I probably would’ve parked it in a gravel trap on lap ten."

The interviewer laughed. "So, you’re saying she’s your good luck charm?"

"Absolutely," Lando replied, dead serious. "I mean, have you seen her? Look at her."

The camera did not pan to you, thank god. The poor guy running the live feed probably had no idea what to do.

But Lando? Oh, he was just getting started.

"She walked into this paddock today looking like an actual goddess, completely unaware that she is, in fact, the sun incarnate, and people want me to talk about tire degradation? No. I want to talk about her."

The interviewer tried so hard to stay professional.

"You—uh, you had great pace today—"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Lando waved him off.

"Lando, I don’t think—"

"Listen, I need to emphasize something." Lando leaned in, tone conspiratorial. "Do you know how lucky I am? Not only is she breathtaking, but she’s also, like, annoyingly smart. Like, did you know she reads all the time? Real books.Not just memes and Twitter threads like me."

He gestured vaguely, suddenly overwhelmed by his own emotions.

"She doesn’t even realize how much people admire her. But I see it. I see everything. And I just think the world needs to start appreciating her at my level."

"That is… very sweet." The interviewer was visibly struggling to keep up.

"Just had to get that out there."

"Well, congratulations on the win, Lando," the interviewer finally managed, skimming over his list of unanswered questions he had prepared.

"Thank you." He nodded seriously, finally letting go of the mic. "And big thanks to the team, of course."

You rolled your eyes from behind the cameras, suppressing a smile.

...

The internet had seen many things, but no one was prepared for Lando Norris using his post-race interview as a full-blown love letter. 

"Lando’s race pace was great, but his girlfriend propaganda was even stronger."

"THE WAY HE JUST POINTED AT HER IMMEDIATELY I CAN’T."

"Lando Norris said ‘this win is for my girlfriend’ and proceeded to recite a romantic sonnet on live TV. My standards are ruined."

Later, as the two of you curled up in the hotel room, finally away from the cameras, Lando buried his face in your neck with a content sigh.

"You know," he murmured, voice sleepy, warm, full of love. "I really did win that for you."

You ran your fingers through his curls. "I know."

"I meant every word, too."

You smiled. "Don't you think it was a bit much?"

"I don't think it was nearly enough," he said, already half-asleep, grinning like he had never been happier.

[juno-verse]

Hold Me

Summary: Wanda tries to make you forget about your difficult day at work. She succeeds.

Men and minors, please stay away.

Praise, Dom!Wanda, Bondage, Using her magic FOR GOOD, her hands that's it, brief mention of more sex after, ONE Mistress

Random A/N: If you're wondering what happened to the succubus!reader fic, well, I've been overthinking the plot for the last two years. It's why I've been stuck with the second chapter and never getting satisfied with it. Turns out, I'm horrible with plots and I overthink story continuity and possible plot holes. I'm open to ideas tho!

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

You texted Wanda that you were on the way home, a short and quick, ‘otw home’ which had the redhead worried. Usually, you were all exclamation points and emojis, eager to come home to her. In an instant, she knew that you had a difficult day at work. And being the loving partner that she is, Wanda hoped that she could help you take your mind off things. 

With a tired sigh, you unlocked the front door and stepped into the warmth of your shared home with Wanda. You could hear her shuffling around the bedroom as you sluggishly dropped your things by the entrance, shut the door, and slumped down on your couch with a groan.

Things have been so stressful the last few months, the last quarter of the year has always been the busiest season of all time. Add to that an occasional useless workmate and you get yourself a frustrating few months. You just wanted to whisk yourself away into a far-off island and forget about work.

“Is that you, baby?” Wanda shouted as she walked down the stairs, you groaned, “Yeah.” 

“And is my baby tired?” The redhead bent down to kiss your forehead softly as she stood behind the couch. You mustered what little energy you had to nod and grumble apologetically at her. Wanda sighed softly before walking around to lay down on the couch with you and pulled you against her chest. 

Wanda loved holding you close to her and how she could feel the warmth emanating from your soft body. Your weight was a constant pressure that brought her comfort, a constant reminder that you were here with her and that you were hers. 

“You want to talk about it?” Wanda whispered gently as she played with your hair and trailed her lips on your shoulder. 

As soon as the words left Wanda’s mouth, she regretted it. Because boy, did you want to talk about it. 

Wanda listened to you ramble on and on about an incompetent co-worker of yours. Catching a few mentions of a guy named ‘Mark from IT’ and his ‘lazy ass.’ And while she just watched and listened to your rant, all Wanda wanted to do was to make you forget about the stupid guy and let her hold you down. 

She hummed when needed, laughed when you did, and voiced out her thoughts about the godforsaken guy, truly pissed off for you as well. But Wanda was also getting impatient by the minute, what she had planned was all for you after all. So she started to run her fingers through your hair, unknowingly coaxing you into submission and relaxation.

You were mindlessly playing with her fingers while you kept up your slowing tirade against the man. You traced the bony digits and the veins visible on her arm. And Wanda just knows that, subconsciously, you need her to make you forget.

Wanda watched your fascination with her hands and playfully let her power pulse on her palm, a burst of glowing red light reflecting on your faces. You smiled tiredly at her little display and kissed the palm of her hand, “Ugh, if only you could just magic my stress away. Can you actually magic him away?” The little energy you had in your body started to dissipate at just the mere thought of the guy. Wanda could feel you slowly running out of horrible words to say about your coworker and just melting in her arms. 

The redheaded witch chuckled, her chest rumbling against your back. “I could, actually. But do you honestly want me to? You’re too nice.” Wanda peppered tiny kisses on your cheek, tickling your skin. You groaned, knowing that she was right, and you actually didn’t mean it, but you also knew that Wanda would, if you just asked. Even without probing your mind, she could notice how loud your thoughts were getting and she could sense the tiredness spilling out of your body.

“No, you’re right. But,” you sighed, “Dunno… Don’t have the energy to talk about him anymore.” Mumbling your words, you just buried yourself deeper into her arms instead. Your fingers continued to play around with her digits, your mind flashing images of the different ways she’s used them on you.

“And what do you have energy for, hm?” Wanda tantalizingly traced your back with her free hand, ticklish warmth running down your back as a soft hum emitted from your lips. 

“Dunno… Don't wanna think about anything. Just need you to hold me.” You were slipping more and more into a very tranquil and compliant state of mind, all from Wanda’s presence and her coaxing words.

“Okay, sweetie. Let me take care of you.” Wanda shifted the both of you so that you were straddling her lap and she had a tight grip on your thigh and back, a gentle hand resting on the back of your neck. “You did such a good job today, didn't you?” She asked softly as she kissed you tenderly. You hummed in approval and let out a satisfied sigh against her lips. 

The way she held you felt safe and gentle – so ready to whisk you away from the harsh, grim world, or in this case an annoying coworker. In Wanda’s arms, you always found home and solace. She was always willing to shoulder whatever ache you brought home. And tonight, she wanted to make you forget it all. 

“Just let me do all the thinking tonight, baby. Okay?” Wanda looked into your eyes and you gulped, “Yes.” You trusted this woman with your life, but at nights when you let her do anything she wanted to you, you were bound to be at her mercy.

Wanda stood up with you wrapped around her and carried you up to your shared bedroom. Upon entering the room, your favorite scent hits your nose in soft waves. Wanda had prepared all of this for you, and you swooned in her arms. You took her face into your hands and thanked her with a kiss, “Thank you, Wanda.”

Wanda reciprocated your kiss with a tongue against yours as she dropped you gently on the bed and placed herself in between your legs. Her tongue felt soft and eager at the same time. She took off your clothes, all the while kissing you so deeply, that you struggled to keep up with her pace. She pulled away with a smirk, all traces of her gentleness back in the living room falling away and replaced with a domineering gaze.

“Hands.” She demanded, and you placed them in front of her. You watched her closely, entranced by the way her fingers started to move with magic. Her delicate fingers flexed as red tendrils started to wrap themselves around your wrists.

They felt warm and gentle against your skin—like how Wanda’s touches always felt to you—as if they were mimicking the sensation of her hand. It was as if she was the one pinning you down rather than her magic. 

“How… how are you doing that?” You sighed as the redhead coaxed you to lie down on your back with your hands bound to the bed and your legs spread open for her. Wanda shushed you instead, insisting on allowing her to do all the work, “Shhh, my love. I said let me do all the thinking.”

Wanda sat up on her knees, trailing her hands up and down your nude form while admiring her handiwork. She smiled at the goosebumps that trickled all over your body, her magic shining a little bit brighter in response. Red always did look good on your skin, her magic looked good on you.

Positioning herself on top of you, you took notice of the glowing red in her eyes, and to you, she has never been more beautiful. You tried to reach out to Wanda, to touch her face and bring her closer to you – but to no avail. A dangerous laugh escaped from her lips and along with her laugh, the red bonds on your wrists grew tighter. 

“Please…” You begged, and for what? You were unsure, but you just needed Wanda to do something. Anything.

“Begging, already? I haven’t even started.” Wanda smirked as she left kisses on your sensitive neck. One hand wrapped around your throat while the other explored the expanse of your upper body. Her nails traced down your stomach, leaving light red lines in their wake. 

You jolted upwards as you felt red tendrils reaching for your breasts, playing with them, similar to the way Wanda does. Tweaking and pulling on your nipples, no part of your body was left untouched by Wanda and her magic. 

Her long digits traced your wet slit, teasing the entrance and gathering your wetness on her fingers. Wanda’s careful red eyes watched every arch that your body made and listened for every gasp that left your mouth.

“Tell me where you want me,” Wanda instructed, her mouth inches away from yours, so close that every breath she exhaled penetrated your lungs. Her fingers were so close where you needed them, but Wanda needed to hear it from you. She was dying to hear you beg for her.

Your entire body heated up in embarrassment, and you felt the heat spread all the way to your shoulders, too shy to tell her. The words seemed too vulgar to form in your mouth. Wanda’s brow arched inquisitively, waiting for you to make your move. “Come on now, sweetheart. You were just fine talking about someone else a while ago.” The redhead pouted mockingly, her voice a little bit too sweet.  

“I need you inside me, Wands. Please…” You begged softly, whines readily pouring out of your mouth. “Yeah, you need me?” She cooed, “How much, sweetheart?” The tip of her fingers toying with your wet entrance, enticingly and frustratingly, her fingers grazing over your folds.

You struggled uselessly against her magic, against the calming weight of her hold on you, desperation spilling out of you in waves. “S-so bad! I need you so badly, please!” You stuttered and Wanda took pity on you – two fingers slipping inside you with little resistance that it would have made you embarrassed if you weren’t in this desperate state. 

Her fingers rammed into you at a speed that had you gripping tightly onto her conjured bonds, fighting against an invisible force whenever you tried to arch your hips higher. “Stay down and take me,” Wanda angled her thrusts towards that spongey little spot inside you, a delicious warmth settling in your stomach.

“Do you like this, huh? Do you like it when I hold you down and give you what you need? Make you forget all your problems?” Wanda groaned in your ear, her hot breath tickling your skin. All you could do was answer with pleased grunts and eager nods as your mouth kept on producing sounds you were sure to be shy about in the morning after. 

Her other hand snaked up your throat, two fingers asking for permission inside your mouth, “Suck on them, baby. You’re getting too loud.” You instantly latched onto them, moaning around them and Wanda relishing in the vibrations produced by your throat. 

She was everywhere—or rather, her magic was. Nonetheless, it was all her. You could feel Wanda everywhere and you could feel her magic spanning the lengths of your body. Her magic was pinching your nipples, gripping your wrists, and holding your legs open. But her fingers, on the other hand, were working their miracles in your mouth and inside you. 

It was too much yet not enough, your clit throbbing in attention. Wanda cooed mockingly, “Such a spoiled girl, still not yet satisfied?”

Her fingers that were wet from your mouth then trailed downwards to press down on your lower stomach. Your insides pushed down on her fingers and you could feel every crevice of her fingers hitting the right spots. You could feel her inside you more.

The redhead’s mouth soon joined her fingers, her warm tongue drawing circles on your clit and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Bringing you closer and closer to the edge, all your body feels is her and you willingly give it. 

It’s not like you could fight against the restraints Wanda put on you, all you could do was grind against her tongue. Now that she had her fingers out of your mouth, obscene noises spilled out of you, “Wanda, I’m gonna cum! Please, can I cum?” Wanda hummed against your clit, pleased with the sounds you were making. 

“Such a good girl, asking for permission.” Wanda praised you and tightened her magic hold on you so possessively. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Cum for me.” She whispered against your clit, her warm breath and her fingers pushing you to the edge. That delightful warmth in your stomach turned into a raging heat then simmered into a throbbing fire as you came on her tongue and her fingers, so hard that you could hear your heart in your ears.

“Fuck, thank you! Thank you!” You screamed and thrashed against Wanda as she guided you through your orgasm with coaxing fingers and gentle caresses. When the pleasure dulled, you felt Wanda press a soft kiss to your inner thigh.

But as you calmed down, you noticed that the bonds had yet to loosen and gave the witch a curious look. 

She let out a wicked laugh before straddling your stomach, “Oh, you’re so very welcome, sweetie. Care to let your Mistress ride your face?”

[gurugirl]

Intuition | bfd!harry

Summary: Harry's got a surprise for you.

A/N: It's been a while! Enjoy!!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, fluff, breeding kink, age gap

Best Friend's Dad!Harry masterlist

Harry was up to something. You knew he was. You’d been around him long enough to know the signs that he was keeping a secret. He was trying to act normal. All lovey with lots of touches. He came home from work that evening with this look on his face like he had a secret he wanted to tell you but had to wait.

“What is it? What are you smirking about? I can tell you want to say something,” you poked his ribs after he got out of the shower and you stood next to him in the bathroom in front of the mirror.

“I’m not smirking,” he smirked.

“Yes, you are!” You laughed and pointed at his reflection in the mirror.

He licked his lips and tried to hide his smile but the dimples remained deep in his cheeks as he turned toward you and wrapped you in his arms. He was still damp after his shower. The towel around his waist tucked in well so it didn’t slide off when he moved his hands up your back and pulled your face to his, pressing his mouth against yours.

He was definitely hiding something. Trying to distract you. And the distraction did work eventually when he got your clothes off and tossed you in your bed and shut you up by making love to you.

“You want a baby? Yeah? Want to be a mommy, Y/n?” Harry was driving into you deep and then pulling out to his crown over and over again, long deep, slow strokes that had you at his mercy.

And you did want that. Harry’s divorce was finalized. It felt like it took so long and the stress that you two went through was difficult but it had been worth it. He was done with Mrs. Styles, who was going to be changing her last name back to her maiden name. You didn’t feel elated about it all, but it was nice to have that chapter over with. You’d never fully recover from the guilt of what you two had done but you couldn’t help that you’d fallen in love with him.

“Put a baby in me, Harry. Want to make you a daddy…” you moaned when he smacked his hips against yours with a thud.

And even though he was already a dad you loved saying it like that. Telling him you’d make him a daddy and he’d talk about making you a mommy and it was so hot. And truth be told, being off birth control had boosted your libido and you wanted it all the time. You hadn’t realized the way your hormones would react to going off it.

“Fuck me, sweet girl… Gonna put a ring on this finger,” he groaned as he took your left hand in his, weaving his fingers between yours and gripping your jaw with his other hand, “Gonna be such a good mommy to my babies…”

The bed under your back was creaking as he thrust and your pussy was so wet the sound would have been comical if you weren’t so gone for it. Gone for Harry.

“Mmm… get it in there deep, just like that…”

Harry rocked into you, keeping his hips glued to yours and you inhaled sharply at the pinch in your cervix. Every time he shoved himself all the way in it ached but you only wanted more and more. Loved that he was tucked into you so far that when he’d come there was less distance for his sperm to travel to get where you wanted it to end up.

“Like that, baby?” Harry looked down at you and tightened his hand around yours as you trembled and puffed out a loud moan, “Gonna come on my cock and let me fuck my babies into you?”

“Yes!”

Harry’s deep groans were egging you on. It felt so good. It always did. Harry was a good lover. The best lover.

The front of his muscled thighs were pinned against yours and when he dropped his mouth to your lips you couldn’t hold back a moment longer.

Pulsing and clenching around him as he licked into your mouth, your head was blurry and your heart was pounding and then his orgasm rocked his body as he let out a strangled cry and pumped everything he had into your tummy.

And needless to say, you were out like a light once you’d gotten cleaned up and he tucked you into bed, holding you in his arms and the conversation about what he was hiding was once again on hold.

.                 .                 .

“You’re still here?” You looked at the clock on your bedside table and over to Harry in bed who was stretching his limbs and yawning.

“Mmhmm… Took off today.”

You grinned and rolled toward him, placing your palm on his chest, “That’s nice. Is there a reason you took off?”

That look again. The one that said he was holding something in appeared and he smiled at you, his hand cupping your face, “There is a reason. Yes.”

“Okay. What is it?” You cocked your head with your eyebrows raised.

“A surprise. You’ll find out soon enough.”

“A surprise? Oh, come on! Tell me what it is!” You sat up and got to your knees with a wide grin, “You gotta tell me what’s going on!”

Harry’s soft eyes dropped down over your tits and your tummy and he grabbed your hips, bringing you down to his chest, “You don’t listen very well do you?” He swatted at your bottom making you puff out a laugh, “Said… you’ll find out soon enough.”

“Harry!” You groaned and tried to pull yourself up but he tightened his arms around you so you couldn’t budge.

“Y/n!” He mocked your voice and you laughed at his attempt at speaking in your tone.

“If I give you a blowie will you tell me?”

Harry sat quietly for a moment and let out a breath, “I’ll tell you regardless. You just gotta be patient. But I’ll take a blowie if you’re offering.”

Of course, that wasn’t the answer you wanted so you wound up wiggling from his arms and pulling his t-shirt on before sauntering out of the room to start the coffee.

You were anxious though. You wondered what the surprise was. Why Harry needed to take a whole day off work. What it was he’d been keeping from you…

But there was something else as well; All his recent comments about putting a ring on your finger. You thought it was possible that maybe he was going to propose too. It was no secret that he intended to keep you around. You’d both talked about ‘forever’. Obviously. What with the talk of having a baby and getting a place together.

And there was also the fact that your lease was coming up very soon. So soon it was giving you anxiety because you hadn’t really begun to look for a new apartment, outside of viewing a few houses that were for sale and Harry reassured and told you not to worry about it. You trusted him but there was that little question in the back of your mind that he was perhaps getting things set up for you without you knowing.

Those were just guesses, though. Whatever it was Harry was planning was something you were looking forward to learning.

“What should I wear for this surprise?” You held up a dress against your body as Harry entered your bedroom.

“Whatever you want. Whatever you feel best in.”

“Should I pack a bag? Bring tennis shoes? Will pictures be involved?” You were trying to get it out of him. He wasn’t giving you anything, though.

“No need to pack anything. If you want to wear tennis shoes you can. Just trust me when I say you don’t need to worry. Okay?”

Harry was wearing his typical getup. Jeans and a t-shirt so you just decided to go casual as well. But you did make sure you looked cute. Just in case pictures would be part of the surprise.

He was excited to show you what he’d done. He hoped you didn’t freak out. There were moments when he thought he should have you involved but he wanted to surprise you. Wanted to make it special. He didn’t get lots of chances to do things like this with you. And maybe he’d gone a little overboard on this but he’d committed and couldn’t back out now.

Your mind raced with the possibilities of what he had planned. You felt like it was something big. You braced yourself to be surprised. And boy were you when you pulled into that familiar neighborhood with the cute house you looked at with Harry months before. The one with the yard he couldn’t stop talking about.

“Harry…” you warned in surprise when he pulled into the driveway of the three-bedroom house and turned off the car engine.

“What?” He raised his brows at you in question, as if he couldn’t fathom what you were surprised by.

“What is… what’s going on?”

Harry didn’t answer as he climbed out of the car and you opened the passenger door and stepped out, looking up at the house and then at Harry.

He grinned at you and reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys with a pretty pink and silver key chain that read, “Home Sweet Home.”

You covered your mouth when he placed the keys in your hand and then he nudged you toward the house, “Know you loved this place. So I bought it for us. It’s ours. Finished up all the closing of it a few days ago and took today off so we could celebrate.”

Harry had his own set of keys as he unlocked the door and opened it up for you to enter first. You did love the house when you first viewed it.

And now there was a table with dining chairs and a big beautiful bouquet of flowers in the center.

“I’ve put a bed in the master bedroom already. King size. No more double bed for us, baby,” he grinned as you looked around. You were stunned that he’d gone and gotten a mortgage on a house and went through the whole process without you knowing.

“I can’t believe you did this.”

Harry stepped in front of you and pulled you into his arms, “For us. For our family. For you.”

You walked through the house again to get reacquainted. Harry had done the smallest bit of furnishing but mostly it was bare. Ready to be furnished and decorated. The bedroom he had nearly ready. The bed was huge and it had sheets and fluffy blankets atop, a dresser, and a side table on both sides. The ensuite had towels and he’d bought soap and lotion. But when he brought you down to the kitchen the fridge was mostly empty but there was a container of something (something sweet he said) along with a bottle of champagne.

Of course, Harry popped the bottle and pulled out two champagne flutes from the cupboard and you clinked glasses before sipping the bubbly drink.

“To me and you. To forever. I love you,” he spoke as he took your hand in his and lifted it up to kiss your knuckles.

“I love you too, Harry. I know I’ve been really quiet but I’m just processing all this. It’s a shock. But I’m so happy. I can’t believe it.”

You carried your glass of champagne with you into the backyard, which still looked terrible, but it was spacious and Harry shared with you his vision again. What it could look like…

You watched him wave his arms around as he kept looking at you as he spoke, “And this… we can just have a nice patch of flowers. The shade is perfect here and it’ll really brighten up this corner. The tree will need trimmed back but it’s going to be perfect to hang a swing off of and little string lights for nighttime. We’ll put some outdoor furniture on the patio after I clean it all up. Trim out the weeds and fill in the spaces that got overgrown…”

A soft smile covered your face as you watched how excited he was. You were excited too, though. Everything was perfect for you two in that moment. You had the love of your life with you and he had bought a house to make a home in. A place he wanted to share with you. A man you trusted and found yourself falling more in love with every day.

You placed your glass down on the brick ledge near the patio and stepped in front of Harry as he was still yammering on about what he would do with the space and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your cheek into his pecs, “I love it, Harry. It’s perfect.”

And your hormones were raging as you inhaled his scent and he squeezed his strong arms around you. It didn’t help that he kept talking about children running around, what with you ovulating like you were. You had been keeping close track of it and after months of being off birth control, you were finally starting to feel like your body was adjusting to its natural cycle.

Tilting your head back to look up at him you saw him already looking down at you, “Let’s go test out that bed.”

And now it was Harry’s hormones that were raging. He practically dragged you to the master bedroom and you found yourself testing out the bed just as you asked.

“How do you like it?” Harry panted as he sunk into you over and over again.

You were out of breath as you squeaked out a sound of approval.

“That good huh? Gonna make me a daddy? Gonna let me fill you up with babies, Y/n?”

Harry wasn’t gentle as he pumped into you, harsh thuds against you where he’d grind down every time he buried himself into the hilt. He pulled back, nearly completely out before snapping his hips forward into yours. He set the most delicious cadence, thick shaft filling you and rearranging your insides.

When he slowed down he dropped his mouth against yours, rolling into your wet pussy.

“I’m ovulating,” you breathed against his mouth. You were finally able to speak now that he was fucking into you more languidly.

Harry parted from the kiss with a filthy grin on his face, “Is that right little girl? I get to fuck my come into your fertile pussy?”

“Mmm… yes sir… fuck me til it sticks. Want it so bad. Want your babies and your come…”

The new bed was sturdy, unlike the old one at your apartment. No squeaking or creaking or headboard ramming into the walls… just the sound of your creamy pussy wrapped around Harry’s fat cock and the slap of skin.

It was an excellent way to celebrate the purchase of the new house. A little champagne and a good fucking in the new bed… and hopefully it would end with you pregnant.

You’d never had baby fever or whatever this was. But something about Harry just did it for you. You wanted him in every way. Wanted to show everyone how he was yours, that you’d won, that no one could come between you two. Logically you understood the flaw of that thinking, but logic flew out the window every time he was balls deep; that masculine body over yours, his deep voice saying filthy sweet things in your ear, and his big cock that had you hooked since that first day at your apartment all that time ago.

“Oh my god, baby… look a’that…” Harry shifted himself and lifted your hips so you could glimpse the way he was filling you slowly and pulling back, shiny arousal coating his shaft, “Made for each other.” He began to thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves as he rolled into you, eyes on the action happening where you were connected “Feels good doesn’t it?”

You nodded, “You always feel so good, Harry. I need you…”

He moaned, “I know, baby… I need you too.”

You rocked your hips into his hand as he continued fucking into you until he moved again, tilting himself over you and taking the back of your neck in his big palm, and pressing his lips to yours.

Harry’s hips were glued to yours as he pushed into you, ensuring he stayed nice and deep, massaging your inner walls with every thrust in. The pressure of your orgasm built and built as he lapped his tongue against yours and tucked his cock deeper and deeper until he was no longer rearing back, his pelvis rolling over your clit.

Soft whimpers and pants were muffled from your mouth as he kept your lips occupied with his own.

His thrusts were becoming sloppier as he pressed himself to you and you could feel him trembling. When he moaned against your mouth and rutted in smooth and deep he hit something achy, you simply came undone. Harry had to lift his mouth from yours as you moaned and he gasped at the way you were gripping him and pulsing around him until he couldn’t hold back and pumped into you, stuffing you with his come.

It was a favorite. The feel of his throbbing cock releasing inside you. That way you knew your pussy was siphoning every drop from him and how good your cunt felt on him. His soft whimpered moans as he stilled his hips against yours and twitched until he was milked dry, balls properly drained.

Lying in bed together, limbs wrapped up and sweaty bodies breathing and flushed hot post-orgasm you turned to look at him and lifted your knee, draping your thigh over his hip, “I love you.”

Harry moaned and opened his eyes and pulled at you, his arms wrapping around you, “I love you, baby.”

“I’m pretty sure that was it.”

Harry turned his eyes and looked at you, “What was it?”

You grinned and drew your hand up his strong chest, “Well, we’ll see… but I think you just got me pregnant.”

Harry laughed and you giggled with him. Mostly it was just a tease. You’d have no way of really knowing at that point. But something in your gut told you that there was a good chance of it.

“And what makes you think of all the times we’ve gone at it since you’ve been off birth control that this was the one?”

“Well… it’s been months since I got off birth control and for the past couple of weeks I’ve really been more in tune with my body because of it and my ovulation cycle is starting to get to normal and today my insides were aching and I knew the only thing that would make me feel better was to orgasm and that’s because I’m ovulating.”

Harry grinned and ran his thumb over your neck, “Well I fucked you this morning after coffee, baby. Maybe the one from this morning got you knocked up.”

Biting your lip you slid yourself over Harry and straddled his lap, taking his hands and bringing his palms up to cup your tits, “Either way… feel this?” You squeezed around his hands over your tender breasts, “Haven’t had swollen breasts in a really long time. The ovulation is strong this month. And today it’s at its height. My whole body wants to be pregnant.”

The soft gaze on Harry’s face as he looked into your eyes was full of affection and love as he pressed over your nipples, “Extra fertile today, yeah? Then let me recover a bit and I’ll fuck you again. Just in case third time’s a charm, ya know?”

You laughed, “I mean the day is still early. I think I’m gonna need lots of orgasms today to feel better and you’re just the man to give them to me. Plus, we need to celebrate properly.”

He pulled you down, pressing your chest against his, and groped the globes of your ass in his hands, “Well sounds like I’m gonna have to go buy sparkling grape juice for you, huh Mama?”

You both cackled loudly as soon as he said it. And you both understood it was just post-sex hormones talking in that moment. But you’d know soon enough if your intuition was right. You hoped it was.

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[astermagnolia]

Danny and Peter run into Jason: one-shot based on my most recent post

\/\/\/\/

Danny sighed as he shivered, still trying to get used to the spider-sense. From what he and Peter could tell it's barely only been a month since their situation and by far Spider sense has been the most annoying ability to try and learn.

"Peter tingle sucks, man," Danny mutters under his breath lest he get confused stares.

"Please for the love of everything, stop calling it peter tingle." Peter begged. If he was in control of his body at the moment he's sure his head would be on his head.

Danny's... housemate? Body...mate? Ew, no not that one. Headmate. Yeah, headmate, tried his best to explain how his sixth sense worked and how to deal with it but Danny still gets freaked out by it. Even when he's not driving the body

"Well, maybe if i didn't get tingles and shivers every time i would call it accordingly."

"It's just warning you of danger."

"Dude, we're currently staying in an area called crime alley near a place called the narrows in a city where crime is rampant. Gotham is ranked number one for 'one of the most crime-ridden cities'," Danny ranted, trying to keep his voice low and head down.

That little nugget of information was great to learn when they were doing their research. On top of learning that aliens exist and the police were corrupt. Though that last one wasn't too surprising.

"I mean, if we moved..."

"We barely have enough to feed ourselves plus your crazy metabolism. We can't move and then struggle to find a good place to bunk." Danny sighed again.

Trying to find a job is the most difficult thing at the moment considering they didn't have any ID—or any proof of existence in this world—and the fact they looked so young.

Danny took stealing from people, much to chagrin if Peter. He swore up and down he was stealing from wealthy people.

Peter on the other hand, when he was in control of his body, would try and fix anything from anyone within the area. People have started calling him 'tinkerer' and. Funnily enough, the guy who buys the stuff Danny steals calls him 'furittus'.

"Hey, look." Peter grabbed Danny's attention to what's ahead of them.

In front of them is a nice red motorcycle, the glossy coat reflecting the soft glow of the nighttime city. It was just sitting idle and unattended with no one near it or in sight.

Danny whistled appreciatively and walked closer to it. "D'ya recognize it, Pete?"

"Hmm, I think it's a Honda CB750 but...it looks heavily modified. That would cost a lot." Peter noted with a hint of admiration in his voice.

Danny hummed in thought, a playful smile growing in his face.

"Think i could steal it?" He joked.

"No!"

Danny blinked as the word practically echoed in his head, "Ow."

Pete huffed. If he had his body he would cross them and he would have a frown on his face. "Sorry for yelling, but also, that's a horrible idea. It would have cost the person so much time and money to modify the bike."

Danny rolled his eyes, "If it meant so much they wouldn't have left it here in the middle of crime alley. Just the wheels at least."

Peter sighed, "You don't even have any tools. How are you going to take the wheels?"

Danny smirked as he lifted their hand and turned it intangible. At least, that was the attempt. Their whole arm turned intangible instead.

Peter huffed, "I'll try to keep a lookout as you take the wheels then. Just like to say again, this is a horrible idea."

Danny grinned as he quietly worked to get the wheels off the rest of the bike and carefully left the bolts near the bike. It's the least he could. He has one wheel off when he pauses his work to get a better look at the engine.

"This sure is a nice looking bike." Danny says absentmindedly. "I'm really curious who it belongs to."

"I would say thank you but it looks like I'm being robbed." The gravel behind them makes noise.

Danny gasps—blue mist leaves his mouth—spinning to face the man behind them and some of the bolts fall out of his hand.

"i found it like that." Danny blurts out.

"Oh for the love–I can't even be mad, i would say the same thing. But i told you it would be a bad idea! Do you see him?? Look how huge he is!" peter ranted and hoped that Danny could feel him disappointment.

The man in front of them is huge, built like a tank and wearing a leather jacket. He has black hair with some of the front part being white. He definitely knows how to fight.

The man crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "Why does this feel like deja vu?" He mutters. "Alright, wanna explain yourself, kid?"

Danny tries not to pout as he's called a kid, "...I just needed some money for some food." He says instead, hoping the man will take some pity.

The man stares at him, scrutinizing him and trying to come to some conclusion.

"What if he kills us?" Peter whispers.

"Welp, sorry pete but you would have erased yourself for nothing." Danny dryly replies as quiet as he can.

"Dude! Uncalled for."

"Alright, come on, follow me." The man suddenly says.

Danny jumps, his mouth dropping open "huh?"

"Food. I know a good place. The names' Jason, by the way." The man, Jason, simply says. He puts his hands in his jacket and starts heading in a direction.

"We're not actually following him, right? That's like, stranger danger one-oh-one and–nope we're just following him. That's great. That's cool. Lets just follow the guy we were stealing from."

Danny shrugged. "Free food."

Peter sighs and can only watch as Danny follows the guy. He would take control if he could, but if he forced a switch, that would only cause extreme dizziness, and it would be hard to explain their physical change, too. Peter and Danny still haven't figured out how to safely switch who is in control of the body. They just wake up and whoever is in control of the body is in control for the rest of the day, unless they're knocked out. Once, Danny was in control for three whole days.

Jason led to a fast food place called Bat Burger.

Once at the register, Jason tilted his head, "Order whatever you like and however much you like."

Danny and Peter are stunned hearing what Jason just said.

"However much I like?" Danny slowly repeated still trying to make sure he heard right.

"no way he's serious, right?"

"Yup, however much you like." Jason confirmed as he finished his order. "I'm using my old man's credit card anyway."

"...Alright, what do we want," Danny mutters and decides not to question Jason's odd decision. If they can order however much they want then they'll be able to take whatever they don't finish back to their little base, though he doubts they'll leave much.

Peter rattles off what his order, which Danny repeats and then he orders what he wants.

One thing Peter is grateful for, despite their circumstances, is that when he is stuck in his head, he can still taste whatever Danny is eating and vice versa.

The cashier stares in horror but then deeply sighs. They ring up their order, gives them their cups, and tell them to sit anywhere.

They grab their drinks and the two sit in the corner booth.

Jason places his hands on the table, "So, kid, what can i call ya?'

Danny jumps at the sudden question and stutters out, "Uh, our name is–I mean, my, my name is Danny."

The rest of the night goes by strangely but nicely. Jason asks one too many questions—about their non-existent home life which is nice—and that leads Danny to tell Jason to shove them, much to Peter's horror.

Danny does pretty much eat everything and as much as he wants to ask Jason about his strange ecto signature, he lets it go in favor of being left alone.

"That guy was weird. My spider sense didn't, you know, sense him." Peter admits, suspicion and weariness oozing from his voice.

Danny shrugs, "It's a big city. I doubt we'll run into him again."

\/\/\/\/

Peter luck strikes again.

If peter ever got the chance, he'll hang Danny up by his feet. He will find some way to neutralize his abilities and web him up.

"Hey, you're welcome to try, pete!" Danny says through his laughing.

In front of Peter is Jason, the man that fed them just a few weeks ago.

And is currently staring down at Peter with an intense stare.

Next to Jason is another man with tanned skin, black hair, and blue eyes. He's smiling widely, coming off as friendly.

"Do you two know each other?" The man tilted his head, trying to start a conversation.

"Uh, no, sorry, it's my first time seeing him...and you," Peter replies and looks down at the watches he's holding. He'd been told to fix them and the people they belonged too were loyal customers. He didn't think one of them would be Jason.

"Nah, i don't know 'em. He just looks familiar." Jason replies. He squints, scowling in thought. "You don't happen to have a twin do you? One with Black hair and blue eyes."

Peter wants to shrivel up and die.

Danny definitely isn't helping as he wheezes, laughing at Peter's misfortune.

Danny, what do I say?!

"Tell them yes and that we've been separated and you have been living with your uncle!"

By some miracle, Peter was able to sell his grief and ask Jason if he'd seen him. He's not sure how he did it since his lying pretty subpar most days. He was still baffled about lying to Aunt May for as long as he did.

"Oh, that's so sad," The man, Dick Grayson, stated with empathy in his eyes. "Why don't you file a missing person report? They could help..." He weakly says.

Jason sighs, placing a hand on his forehead. "Dick i swear to god..."

Peter stares baffled. Did this man not know Gotham police? How does he explain why going to the police is not a good idea, for one, the corruption, and two because Danny—by extension Peter as well—do not exist. So he cant file a missing person report.

"ACAB, bitch!"

"ACAB, bitch!" Peter blurts out the only thing in his mind and slaps a hand over his mouth. Danny's loud voice was the only thing on his mind. He couldn't think of anything else.

Danny was laughing hysterically about the situation Peter found himself in.

Dicks mouth dropped open, shocked by the sudden exclaim.

Jason begins to snicker which turns into a full blown belly aching laughter. He leaned on the counter and slapped Dick's shoulder.

"He–HAHAHH! Ohhh man. Kid I just met, you're incredible. heehe–" Jason erupted into another fit of laughter.

Peter stands in embarrassment and tired of this whole thing. He just wants the world to open up and swallow him. Saves him from the embarrassment.

"You're stuck with me Peter, whether you like it or not!" Danny exclaims through laughter.

At the very least, Peter isn't alone.

\/\/\/\/\/

This is all i had running through my head. I cannot promise any part 2 or anything

Some notes:

Jason's personal bike and red hood bike are different. And obviously hard to find an exact model since they change with different iterations and, ya know, trademark law and all. The bike i mentioned is one iteration that seemed the most obvious since someone was able to name it.

I think the earliest spiderman gave peter Parker a bike. I haven't seen anyone put an exact name on it but, funnily enough, its also a Honda

I hope I did the characters justice <3

[worldlxvlys]

hey queennn

I have a fic idea

DWB Chris

He’s out ona. Deal for a while bc his customer was being difficult and he’s pissed and you are waiting home for him in lingerie in surprise to calm his nerves

SMUT OBVI

overstimulation w heavy dom Chris 😛😛

break it in

dealer w/ benefits! chris x reader

warnings: smutttt, p in v, unprotected sex, cream pie, overstimulation, cursing, oral (fem receiving), masturbation, fingering, squirting

a/n -> for my love @hearts4chriss <33

i let out a heavy sigh as i stared at the lavender set of lingerie that decorated my body.

the fabric was practically transparent, my hardened nipples pressing against it.

this was the fourth set that i had tried on, the other three sprawled out on my bed.

chris was taking a little bit longer than i expected, so i decided to try on some of the new sets i purchased while i was out today.

knowing he would probably come home stressed from dealing all day, i wanted to help him destress from the day.

and while i loved every set, i wasn’t sure which one to wear.

i let my gaze travel to my bed, staring intently at the other three sets that laid on it, trying to make a decision.

before i knew it, i was in my own world, imagining what he’d do to me in each one.

suddenly, a cold pair of hands wrapped around my waist, “new set?”

immediately, i snapped out of it, becoming reoriented to my surroundings. the second i heard his voice, i immediately relaxed into his touch.

“yeah, well a few new ones” i spoke as i nodded towards the other sets.

“i love it” he whispered, his lips brushing against my skin.

“i love you” i told him, craning my neck to look at him.

he pressed his lips against mine, leaving a sweet kiss to my lips, “i love you too baby”

he began to leave kisses along my neck, nudging the skin with his nose.

i tilted my head to the side, accepting the kisses while i stared at our reflections in the mirror.

his fingers ran along the skin of my stomach, stopping every now and then to play with the bottom of the bra, then resuming their movements.

the feeling of his cold hands pressed against my hot skin sent shivers down my spine, a trail of goosebumps following them.

he used the grip he had on my waist to pull me into him, his hard dick pressing against my thigh.

“chris” i sighed out as i pushed my hips back onto his, grinding against his crotch.

“which one is your favorite? wanna fuck you in it” he whispered into my ear.

“shit- i don’t know, i can’t decide” i spoke, head falling forward as the fabric of his sweatpants rubbed against the thin panties.

“no? guess i’ll just fuck you in all of them then” he spoke, pulling away to take off his shirt.

my eyes widened at the statement, thighs clenching together at the thought of it.

“all of them?”

“if you model them for me, i’ll do whatever you want to help you… break them in.”

i turned around to face him, reaching into his pocket to grab his phone.

“you know, usually…” i held the phone out to him, “modeling involves pictures”

his eyes lit up at that, eagerly grabbing the phone from my hand.

i pulled away from him, crawling onto the bed.

i laid down on my stomach, legs crossing in the air while i stared at the camera.

i poked my ass in the air slightly, while i clenched the sheets between my fingers.

“is this good?” i asked him, watching as his mouth hung open while he held the phone up.

“fuck yeah, you look so good” he spoke as he stared at me through his phone screen.

after a few clicks of the camera, he placed his phone down on the bed.

“don’t move” he spoke as he pulled down his pants and boxers.

once he kicked the clothes to the side, he came closer to me, his hands immediately finding their way to my ass.

“what do you want me to do, baby?”

“fuck me like this”

“was hoping you’d say that” he spoke as he moved my underwear to the side.

“god, this color looks perfect on you” he whispered as he pulled on the lavender fabric.

he lined himself up with my entrance, pushing his cock into me without warning.

i let out a moan at his harsh thrusts, each movement making my body jerk further into the bed.

he used the grip he had on my panties as leverage, the light material bunching up between his fingers.

“god, chris! feels so good” i moaned as his dick slid in and out of me effortlessly.

he was a perfect fit inside of my tight hole, my walls holding his cock in a firm hug inside of me.

“always take me so fucking well, my perfect girl, made just for me” he groaned as his hips slapped against mine.

“this what you had in mind when you put that lingerie on?” he asked as he pulled my hand behind my back, using them to hold onto while he pounded into me from behind.

“or do you need me to fuck you harder?” he asked, whispering into my ear.

“fuck- i” i took a deep breath, willing my brain to calm down so i could form the words i wanted, “harder, please” i cried out.

granting my wish, he let go of my hands in order to wrap his arm around my neck, effectively choking me while his chest pressed flush to my back.

i could barely speak as my eyes rolled to the back of my head, face scrunching up in pleasure.

he took the skin of my shoulder between his teeth, lightly biting it as he continued to groan against the skin.

he gripped my jaw harshly, moving my face to look at him, “you like this one?” he asked as he toyed with the strap of my bra that had begun to fall down my arm.

i nodded my head furiously, not being able to get any noise out of my mouth other than loud moans.

“me too, baby. something about you in this color drives me crazy” he mumbled.

“you gonna cum all over my cock like a good girl?” he asked as i clenched around him, hands fisting at the bed sheets.

“yes, chris ! yes, i’m so so close” i whined out, the slightest bit of drool dribbling down the corner of my mouth.

he reached under my body, his fingers expertly rubbing my clit.

“cum with me, baby” he groaned into my ear, hips stuttering.

i reached behind me, needing something to hold onto while my body was overtaken with pleasure. catching on, he laced our fingers together while my juices leaked out of me and onto his cock.

“oh my god” he groaned at the feeling, holding me close while he shot thick ropes of cum inside of me.

“fuck, fuck, fuck” he whispered as his legs shook, more and more cum spilling out of him.

i was a moaning mess under him, eyes rolled so far into the back of my head i could barely see.

he pulled out slowly after thrusting a few more times, watching as our pleasure slipped out of my abused hole.

i turned onto my back so i could look up at him, but he couldn’t seem to look away from the mess we made.

the mixture of our juices was smeared against my glistening thighs, and my panties were completely saturated.

he quickly pulled them off of me, letting out a groan at the site of my pleasure-covered pussy.

“play with yourself” he spoke from above me, taking me by surprise.

“i- what? chris, i’m too sensitive”

he left a smack to my clit, making my hips jerk up at the feeling.

“play” smack. “with” smack. “yourself” smack. i let out a whine with each sting to my sensitivity, quickly listening to him.

i let out a breathless “fuck" as i slowly rubbed my pussy, mouth hanging open slightly.

he moved my hand to my clit, pushing it further into the bundle of nerves.

“chris, oh my-” i cried out as i toyed with my puffy clit.

“faster” he rasped, watching my body jolt and squirm with every movement.

i sped up my movements, thighs automatically clamping shut around my hand.

i wasn’t even sure when he picked up his phone, but the sound of the camera click filled the room soon after.

“open up, pretty girl” he spoke, gesturing to my legs that stayed shut as i assaulted my own clit.

i followed his instructions, pushing my shaky legs open, exposing my drenched pussy to the camera.

after a few more clicks, he threw the phone to the side.

he hooked his hands around my thighs before pulling my body towards him.

i could barely even register what was happening before my own hand was replaced with his.

he placed one hand on my stomach, the other pushing a finger into my entrance.

“c-chris!” i shuddered as he plunged his finger in and out of my slick walls.

my hands immediately found his back, my nails scratching the skin while my back arched off of the bed.

i was already close from the stimulation to my clit, but he didn’t seem to have any intentions of stopping any time soon.

“fuck, chris. it’s so- holy fuck” i babbled, not even able to finish a sentence.

“not stopping until you’re covered in cum” he groaned, his fingers inside of me producing a loud squelching noise.

“chris, i don’t-” i spoke, grabbing his arm. “take it” he said, swatting my hand away.

every time i reached for his arm to slow him down, he’d speed his fingers up.

“use your words” he spoke.

my body shook roughly under him, my eyes crossing as my head flew back.

my hands flew around, searching desperately for something to hold onto.

my hips rose off of the bed, thighs flying shut.

deciding he had enough of my squirming, he held my thighs apart with a firm grip, pushing his face between them.

“fuck! chris, i’m gonna-” the feeling of his warm tongue against my heat pushed me over the edge.

he opened his mouth wide, scooping up every drop of my release with his tongue, lapping it up like his life depended on it.

“need more” he groaned against my cunt, making sure no part of my pussy was left untouched.

“c-chris, ok!” i giggled, quickly cutting myself off with a moan as he moved his tongue against me feverishly.

he hooked my legs over his shoulders as he ate me out like a man starved.

his eyes rolled into the back of his head as his tongue darted in every direction it could.

he moaned and groaned against me, his fingers digging deep into the skin of my shaking thighs.

he clamped his mouth around my clit, sucking the life out of it.

all i could do was let out a strangled moan as he pushed me closer and closer to another orgasm.

“chris-” i was barely able to warn him before my body tensed, my orgasm hitting me suddenly.

one second i was screaming out, and the next chris’s face was dripping wet.

my eyes widened at the sight, but chris’s face turned into a grin.

he licked his lips excitedly, before leaving a few kisses to my thighs.

my eyelids grew heavy, and a sudden wave of sleepiness came over me.

“you tired, baby?” he asked, his lips continuing to dance across my skin.

i nodded lightly, eyes falling shut. “i got you, my love” he whispered to me.

the last thing i felt before falling asleep was a light kiss to my cheek.

💋💋💋💋

main masterlist

dwb chris masterlist

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[st4rfckerz]

i’ve been thinking about this tooo much.

MDNI 18+

The tall glass building loomed in front of you, reflecting the sunlight in a shimmering display of modern architecture. You grab Sam's hand, feeling the callouses on his fingers as you ascend the steps towards the entrance. The automatic doors slide open, revealing a sleek lobby lined with marble floors and contemporary art installations.

"So this is where your old man works, huh?" Sam glances around the lavish lobby, looking up at the high ceiling, his gaze occasionally catching sight of the impressive artwork adorning the walls. You nod, leading him towards the elevator bank. "Yeah, he’s worked here since I was a baby. They're usually pretty cool about me bringing people in. Just don't touch anything too expensive, alright?" You smirk, trying to lighten the mood before stepping into the elevator, pushing the button for the floor where your dad's office is located.

As the elevator doors slide shut behind you both, sealing you inside the small metallic box, Sam’s hand creeps up, brushing your ass gently.

“Sam, no.” you drag your words, warning Sam to not go any further. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself leaning into him even more. "Come on, you scared?" he whispers softly, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. The closeness between you two intensifies, making it difficult to concentrate on anything other than the rising tension. Sam tries to plant a kiss to your lips but you turn your head and push him away, laughing at his sudden neediness.

“No quit it! Not here-” You turn your head away again just to have Sam grab your jaw to make you face him again. His lips press firmly against yours, the urgency of his kiss leaving no room for doubt. As he pulls you closer, your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, holding onto him tightly. His lean body supports yours effortlessly, enveloped by the confined space of the elevator. The faint sound of the creaky gears echo in the background, reminding you of the steady ascent to your father's office, but all you can think about is the man whose tongue now caresses yours.

His hands trace down your back, finding purchase on your hips, pulling you closer still. The passion and desperation in his kiss leave you weak in the knees, making it hard to catch your breath. Sam’s hand glides down your waist, slowly making its way under the hem of your pants. His fingers finally slip beneath your underwear, feeling the damp fabric against your arousal. A satisfied smile spreads across his face, and he lets out a low growl, the vibrations of which you feel all over. "Too easy," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

Sam’s fingers slide easily inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit in circular motions, adding to the already intense sensations. “F-fuck Sam…” Your eyes flutter, reacting to his skilled touch as your body responds eagerly. The elevator inches towards your floor, but at this moment, it feels like time stands still.

"Shhh, baby, let it happen," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. His words serve as permission, and soon enough, your body trembles as an orgasm courses through you. Sam holds you tighter, letting you ride out the most unexpected and exhilarating climax inside the elevator.

Finally, the elevator comes to a halt, the familiar ding breaking the spell of intimate pleasure. As the doors open, Sam releases you and sticks his fingers in his mouth, his face plastered with cockiness and pride knowing he just took you to new heights.

[bunni-v1]

Omegaverse Lighter Ramblings

🍓That Omagaverse ask has had me in a chokehold, I haven’t have the time to write much of anything since finals week started butttt I have to get Alpha!Lighter out of my head and onto my blog IMMEDIATELY!!!

TW: Omegaverse related stuff lol (marking, breeding, excessive use of the word alpha 💀)

Info: Lighter x Reader; Alpha!Lighter; implied Omega!Reader; Spoilers for Lighter’s trust events

-Lighter is unequivocally an Alpha, let’s get that settled. There’s no way he’s anything but. He has that pure alpha male kinda vibe (jsbsishwos).

-Speaking seriously, he presented around when he turned thirteen, and he’s always been seen as an “Alpha’s Alpha”. He’s strong, competent, and he demands respect just by being in a room.

-It’s part of why he became a mercenary in the first place. He just knew he was built to lead a pack, no matter how dangerous the work they did was.

-He was a great head too, his pack loved him and he loved them. He did his absolute best all the time to be the best Alpha he could be, supporting all of his pack members and never discriminating based on their second genders.

-He vowed he wouldn’t become a monster like other Alphas. He heard the stories of pack leaders losing their minds or abusing the weakest members just because they could. It made him sick to his stomach, so he made sure his pack was safe under him.

-So their deaths hit him so much harder. He legitimately cannot handle it, the grief and the devastation turn him into a monster in the ring. He is the perfect picture of everything he swore he would never become in those years, and they’re particularly difficult for him to reflect upon.

-Joining the SoC is also made harder because he’s kind of needing to recover from literally just living on his instincts 24/7. He avoids the girls like the plague cause he doesn’t want to hurt them — it’s his job to do the opposite.

-Slowly, slowlyyyy, he warms up to them and he lets them in and he doesn’t realize how much he missed having a pack to call his own until he has them. This time, though, he doesn’t want to lead and he doesn’t have to.

-(In case anyone is wondering Caesar is an Alpha (no duh), Piper is a beta, Burnice is… Omaga(?), and Lucy is an Omega. Lighter loves them so much, despite the distance he keeps, he hold nothing but respect and admiration for his pack.)

-It’s a good deal he’s got going too. He gets to have a pack full of friends and a home to call his own… and he can also take out any pent up aggression in his fights.

-Okay with all that out of the way, I’ll get into the shit you wanna hear.

-Firstly Lighter smells… peculiar? He’s got this woody kinda undertone and there’s a sharp scent of gasoline on top of it. He smells like a fire before it’s burning. It’s not bad, but it’s really intense and it can be… too much for most people.

-It’s something that lingers in the air even after he leaves. He always tries his best to contain it, but he can’t help that he naturally secretes a lot of his scent. The girls don’t complain, and it’s a good way of keeping people in check, so he never thinks too much of it.

-Though he does notice the odd looks he gets in Lumina Square, he just figures it’s because of the way he dresses or some other thing.

-It’s not till you point out that his scent is so strong that he realizes. You frame it as a good thing (because of course you love how your alpha smells), and he starts like secreting his scent more when you’re around 😭

-Speaking of you fucking REEK of Lighter. He is big on scenting, leans hard into that jealous protective side he has. If you smell like him, people probably won’t mess with you.

-If someone is stupid enough to do so, they probably won’t be around long enough to warn others not to, honestly.

-Imagine regular Lighter’s protectiveness turner up to like ten. He does NOT fuck around when it comes to his mate, not even a little. Those violent instincts come out tendfold when his mate is in trouble.

-So, yeah he scents you a lot, and he’s big big big on marking. You’ve gotta have a visible mating mark somewhere on your person or else Lighter’s gonna be antsy until he can get one on you.

-His favorite ones to leave are on the juncture between your neck and your jaw. The mark is big, but it’s still something that you can hide easily for more professional things.

-He’s quite possessive of you, too. He’s never had a real mate to call his own before, and you are everything he’s ever wanted and more. Excuse him for being a little obsessive.

-His favorite thing in the world, though, is your scent. He practically begs you to scent him every morning and every night. It rarely sticks thanks to how strong his own is, but it’s the idea that he wants your scent so badly that’s so flattering.

-He also wants you to mark him, and he doesn’t care where. His neck? Perfect! His chest? Wonderful! His thighs? Knock yourself out!

-He does LIKE having matching mating marks though, so he’d be very flattered to have your mark in the same place as his.

-Ah, and finally, let’s talk about his rut shall we?

-It’s intense, like worryingly so. It lasts about a week and a half, exceptionally long even for alphas, and it’s miserable to deal with alone.

-He used to take suppressants for them when he was younger, but during his time in the ring he just learned to lock himself away and deal with it.

-There’s little to no relief during his ruts when he’s alone. He can fuck his hand or use toys and cum like that and he’ll be fully erect within a minute later.

-He gets these awful fevers that, the first time it happened, the girls thought he was legitimately dying until Bug Daddy realized what was going on and chased them off.

-He really struggles to keep himself mentally in check during his ruts, so he usually locks himself away until it’s over for everyone’s well-being.

-When he gets with you, though, it’s… different. They’re MORE intense, like to the point it concerns him a lot. He connects pretty quickly that it’s because his alpha knows that he has a mate now, and it wants its mate to help it out.

-He’s kinda afraid to let you help, though. He’s not exactly coherent or even remotely considerate of anything during his rut. All he’s thinking about is how badly he needs to fuck whatever hole is in front of him (specifically, how badly he wants to fuck your hole and stuff it full of his pups).

-You’re insistent about it though, and he can only say come up with so many excuses before he finally gives in.

-It’s literally life changing, I’m not joking.

-He gives you a whole rundown about being safe and how you need to put yourself first no matter what and blah blah blah.

-He’s so fucking sweet to you during his rut, I’m not joking. It’s literally like his alpha is sedated by your presence, and he’s so incredibly obsessed with keeping you happy and satisfied with him.

-Anything you want it’s yours so long as he gets to be with you, okay. Just the smell of your skin is enough to make him sigh in relief. Let alone the touch of your skin.

-He’ll split open your legs and eat and eat and eat until you’re sobbing for him to do anything but. He can’t help that you taste soooo good on his tongue. He can’t get enough of that delicious flavor you’ve got, not when he’s so far buried into it now.

-God don’t even mention how you feel around him. It’s actual heaven, you letting him rut into your sweet little hole, all because you love him. All because you want to help him out. Oh, it has his alpha purring in delight.

-So many positions, most of which have him bent over you so he can coo in your ear how good you feel. How he can’t wait to see your tummy swell. How much he adores being inside you.

-It still takes him a while to cum, despite how satisfied he is being inside of you. It’s just how his body is, but when he does cum it’s A LOT. If he’s not knotting you you are almost drowning in it.

-Forbid if you play with it, he’ll be hard again in less than ten seconds and ready to go again.

-When he cums, though, he always leaves a nice bloodied mark to enjoy for later. Your whole neck is pretty much black and blue from how many he leaves.

-That’s okay though, you enjoy it too, which only motivates him to keep going more and more until you tell him to stop.

-You’re his cute little mate, all his to mark up and stuff up. The way you squirm when his knot swells inside you makes his toes curl.

-And when you whine about being “too full” as he pumps load after load inside he can’t help but laugh at you. You wanted this after all, don’t complain when he’s giving you exactly what you asked for.

-Having you during his rut shortens it a significant amount, and it usually only lasts four to five days so long as you’re available.

-After the fact he’s so doting, feeling so bad for splitting you apart and stuffing you too full. You usually need a few days to recover together, and it’s full of nothing but pampering and loving from your oh so adoring mate.

[writerinthewoods05]

You are my survival

Azriel x reader

You and Azriel are mates. Az knows it, you don't, that is until a particularly hard training session when the truth finally come out.

Word count: 5k

Requested: no

Warnings: fem reader, shadow play, smut, swearing, choking kink, praise, Azriel's wingspan, oral F and M receiving, Az is a Dom, PinV, we die like men

🔥 means smut will follow

Authors note: this is the first WIP I've finished in like 2 or 3 years so be gentle on me I also wrote this with one of my friends on discord and she is absolutely amazing, constructive criticism is welcome and plz let me know if I missed any tags. Enjoy!

"Pay attention."

His words weren't harsh by any means. No, Azriel would never raise his voice at you, but he'd be lying if he said training you was easy. He watched as you breathed heavily, body glistening with sweat. You'd been at this for hours. Clearly, you'd underestimated just how difficult swordplay was.

"I'm trying my best"

He let out a small chuckle, watching your brows furrow with frustration as he managed to point his sword at your neck, Again.

"Gotcha."

"dammit!"

You threw your sword down in frustration and slinked over to the corner of the ring. Before hugging your knees to your chest and sulking.

"I'm done, I'm quit!"

Sheathing his sword, Azriel approached you slowly, his footsteps silent on the straw-covered floor. He stopped a few feet away, giving you space but close enough to offer comfort.

"Hey, hey now," he murmured softly.

"Don't give up just yet."

He hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside you, keeping a respectful distance.

"Training is hard, y/n. It's supposed to push you, make you stronger. It's okay to feel frustrated, but don't let it consume you."

He glanced at you, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

"You're doing better than you think. You've improved so much since we started. It's just... progress takes time. And patience." He offered you a small, encouraging smile.

"And maybe some water? You've been at it all day."

"yeah well maybe I should train with someone else because your a thousand times better than me and you have 400 years of experience on me so even if I am getting better your skill just dwarfs mine..."

Azriel looked at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. He had expected such a reaction from you, and he couldn't say that he blamed you either.

"You underestimate yourself," he told you gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"It may take time, but you will get there. Just keep practicing and if you can't believe in yourself, believe in the fact that I'm starting to feel your progress in your punches." As always tried to joke with you slightly but seeing as he got nothing but a half earned smile he let himself fall quiet.

He sighed deeply, his gaze drifting down to his scarred hands fiddling with them idly. There were things he wanted to tell you, things he wanted to share about his past, but he knew you weren't ready for them yet. Maybe one day, when you were strong enough, he could tell you everything.

Following his gaze, you watched as he picked at his nails and cuticles. You had known Az for a few hundred years now and as long as you had known him he had never shared the story of his warped skin and you had never worked up the courage to ask, that was until now.

"can I ask you a question without you getting upset? You can tell me to screw off if you don't want to answer, I won't push." You said in a timid, whispered voice. Azriel turned to look at you, his expression curious.

"Of course, y/n. What is it?"

He kept his tone calm and non-threatening, not wanting to scare you off. Whatever it was, he would do his best to answer honestly.

"what happened to your hands?"

Azriel's expression softened, and he looked down at his hands, his fingers curling slightly as he remembered.

"My hands... They were burned by-" he let out a heavy sigh, flexing his hands under your gaze before continuing.

"they were burned by my brothers, many years ago. I was born a bastard like Cassian so I was treated differently, even by my so-called family. They it left me with these scars."

He lifted his hands, showing you the intricate network of burn scars that covered his palms and fingers. They were a constant reminder of his past, a painful chapter he would rather forget.

"what brings that question to mind?"

you reach to grab his hand but hesitated before touching him.

"I just always wondered if they were painful they still look painful..."He noticed your hesitation and gave you a reassuring nod, encouraging you to continue.

"It doesn't hurt anymore, physically at least. But sometimes, the memories can still be quite painful." He lowered his hands, his gaze returning to yours staying quiet for a beat.

"It's alright, y/n. You won't hurt me by touching them. I won't bite or as Cass would say 'i won't bite unless you want me too'" he says with a half honest grin trying to lift the mood slightly.

He held out his hand, palm facing up, waiting for you to make the first move. He wanted to show you that he trusted you, that he was comfortable with you touching him. "Go ahead, y/n."

you gingerly brushed your fingers over his scarred hand before taking one of his hands in both of your running your thumbs over the back before smile and saying softly

"They always looked soft still..."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he felt his face heat slightly at the praise. He never wanted to feel anything other than your gentle touch on his scarred hand.

"Because of the burns, my skin never calloused so yeah I guess they are."

He turned his hand over, intertwining his fingers with yours. The warmth of your touch seeped into his skin, soothing the old wounds in ways he hadn't experienced in centuries.

"I never associated touch with comfort before. It feels like home." ' you feel like home' is what he would have said if he had the nerve but kept that thought to himself, thinking it to cheesey to say out loud.

His thumb stroked the back of your hand, a tender gesture that spoke volumes about the unspoken bond between you two. In that moment, the weight of his secrets and the darkness of his past seemed to fade away, replaced by a simple, pure connection with you.

you lifted your head to look at him only to find him already looking at you, your faces close enough to feel each others baited breaths.

Azriel's gaze locked onto yours, his heart pounding against his ribcage like a wild drum. The intensity of your stare was almost overwhelming, stirring feelings within him that he thought long buried.

He leaned closer, his lips inches away from yours. He could smell your scent, a mix of sweat and something uniquely you. It was intoxicating, making his pulse race and his resolve weaken.

For a moment, he considered closing the gap, pressing his lips against yours and losing himself in the warmth of your embrace. But he pulled back, breaking eye contact, reminding himself of the danger in such actions.

without thinking of the consequences of your actions you shot your hand out to cradle the side of his face turning him back to look at you and meet him with pleading look, begging him not to turn away.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat as he felt your hand cup his cheek, turning his face back towards you. He met your pleading gaze, his own eyes filled with a mix of longing and fear.

He wanted nothing more than to surrender to the desire burning within him, to lose himself in your embrace and forget about his past, his fears, and his responsibilities. But he knew he couldn't. Not yet, at least.

With a heavy sigh, he gently removed your hand from his face, his fingertips trailing along your skin as he did so.

"y/n, we can't," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"I care for you too much to risk putting you in danger. We need to focus on our training, on becoming stronger, you need to be ready for when hyburn attacks."

your pout deepened as you moved back slowly pulling your hand away from his reluctantly as you bit your lip trying to think of something to say to make him change his mind.

"Az we can still train and I've been getting stronger for years, why can't we just," you trail off, not knowing that words for the feeling you felt for him.

Azriel's chest tightened at your pout, a pang of guilt slicing through him as he cut you off. He hated seeing you upset, especially over something he had done.

"It's not because I don't want to," he assured you, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

"It's because I care about you too much. If I give in to these feelings now, it might lead to something neither of us is prepared for, not with so much at stake with war coming."

He paused, his gaze dropping to your lips before lifting back to meet your eyes.

"We're mates. I've known for a while but even though we were designed for each other. And right now with hyburn threatening to breach our borders, our lives and decisions can't be about love or passion-it's about survival"

you pull his face back to you for a last time before running the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks lovingly

"I know that az, but you are my survival. you said it yourself that your my mate, do you really think that I can live without my mate, without you?" You plead tears starting to form in your eyes.

The words hit him like a physical blow, leaving him momentarily speechless. Your admission cut straight to the core of his being, striking a chord within him that resonated with a depth of longing he didn't fully understand.

"You need my love..." he echoed, the words sounding foreign even to his ears. He'd never been loved, let alone needed. The idea was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I... I don't know if I can give you that. I've never been loved, and I've never loved anyone the way I think I should. you deserve all the love there is in this world, and I don't think I can give you that."

His voice cracked with emotion, betraying the turmoil of feelings welling up inside him.

"you can,"

You step closer still holding his face you pull a hand away to grab his scarred one and place it on your waist and putting your hand on his chest over his heart gingerly.

"You have so much love in your heart that you can't help but let it spill over. You try to act so cold and calloused to everyone but we all feel you how much you love us. "

At your touch, Azriel felt a surge of emotion course through him, his heart pounding wildly against your palm. He stared down at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deception or manipulation, but found only sincerity and vulnerability.

"You really believe that, don't you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"That I have love to give?"

He hesitated for a moment, then placed his other hand tentatively on your waist. The warmth of your body seeped into his chilled skin, melting some of the ice that had encased his heart for so long.

"I want to believe it," he admitted, his gaze dropping to your lips once more.

"But I'm afraid of putting you in a dangerous situation that you never need to be in. Afraid of losing control and doing something that could harm you. We both know that my work is extremely dangerous and if you got pulled into that I would never fucking forgive myself"

"Azriel... Your the bravest male I've ever met, please don't stop being brave." You take a final step faces inches apart

Azriel's breath hitched as you closed the remaining distance between you, your bodies nearly touching. He could feel the heat radiating off you, drawing him in like a moth to flame.

"Brave doesn't mean fearless, y/n," he said, his voice low and husky.

"Sometimes bravery means facing your deepest fears, even when every instinct tells you to run." You whisper gingerly brushing you fingers over his leathers laying over his heart.

He reached up, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck as he tilted your head back slightly. His thumb brushed against your lower lip, sending shivers down your spine.

"I'm just scared of failing you, of not being able to protect you. But I'm also scared of missing this chance, of letting my fears hold me back from trying to give us the life the cauldron has laid out for us."

"Then don't let your fears hold you back Az, let me hold them instead." You hold his hand over your cheek and guide his thumb over your lip again gently.

Azriel's resistance crumbled under your gentle guidance, his thumb gliding over your soft, plump lips with a tenderness that surprised even him. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours as he savored the scent of your skin, the warmth of your breath.

"cauldron..." he murmured, his voice thick with longing.

he closed the final inch of distance, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was both tentative and desperate, holding your sides as delicately as fine china.

🔥🔥🔥

you surge you hand up to tangle in his hair and let out an audible cry of relief into his mouth.

Azriel groaned softly into the kiss as your hand tangled in his hair, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping across your lips to explore the warm cavern of your mouth.

As he kissed you, Azriel felt a weight lift from his shoulders, a burden he hadn't realized he carried until it was gone. In your embrace, he found a sense of peace, of belonging, that he had never known before.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, panting lightly as he struggled to catch his breath. "Y/n, I've wanted this for so long," he confessed, his voice rough with emotion.

"Wanted to hold you, touch you, taste you now."

"then don't fucking stop now." You practically begged, chasing his lips.

Your impassioned plea sent a jolt of desire through Azriel, his grip on you tightening as he ground his hips against yours, the hard length of his arousal pressing insistently against your belly.

"Oh, god, baby," he gasped, his breath hot against your skin.

"I won't stop, not now, not ever again." His hands trailing down to your ass, gently kneading the flesh under your fighting leathers.

"You're mine, and I'm going to fuck you so hard, make you scream my name until you forget everyone else exists."With that declaration, Azriel swept you up into his arms and winnowed you back to the house of wind before.

carrying you towards his bedroom as he devoured your mouth in a frenzy of kisses, his hands roaming your curves with a hunger that bordered on desperation. your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you and you press your breasts against his chest, mewl desperately against his lips.

The sound of your moans vibrating against his lips was music to Azriel's ears, fueling his already raging desire. He kicked open the door to his bedroom, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity as he laid you down onto the plush mattress.

"Gods, babygirl," he growled, his hands tracing the outline of your curves as he knelt beside you, his eyes devouring every inch of your exposed flesh. "You're so beautiful, so perfect..."

Without another word, he began to undress you, peeling away each layer of your leathers with a reverence that belied his usual cool demeanor. As he revealed your skin to his hungry gaze, he marveled at the sight, at the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips, the sweet dip of your navel.

"And you smell divine,"

Azriel couldn't help but lean down, his tongue darting out to trace a path along the delicate line of your collarbone, savoring the taste of your skin. He licked and nibbled his way down your body, pausing to lavish attention on each breast, his tongue swirling around your nipples before taking them into his mouth, sucking gently.

His hands weren't idle either, slipping down to cup your ass, squeezing the firm flesh as he continued his descent. His shadows hooked around the sides of your panties, dragging them down your thighs with a teasing slowness that left you squirming beneath him.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he whispered against your skin, his voice a husky murmur.

"What do you crave? Tell me how to make you come undone?"

you reached down to Palm the tent in his fighting leathers at the words and using your other hand to wrap the scared flesh of his hand around your throat.

"I want you to use me, own me Azriel."

At your command, Azriel's heart pounded with a wild rhythm, his cock throbbing in your grasp. He allowed you to control his movements, his hand tightening around your throat in a gesture that was both possessive and protective while one of his larger shadows gently brushed against the side of your face in stark contrast.

"You're mine now, babygirl," he breathed, his voice laced with raw need.

"And I plan to worship every gods-damned inch of you."

With that promise, he slid down further, his lips trailing kisses along your inner thigh, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. He paused just above where you needed him most, his eyes locking with yours as he teased you mercilessly.

"Do you want more?" he asked, his voice a seductive whisper. "Do you want my mouth on you, tasting you?"

"gods yes please!" You hold his hand tightly around his throat encouraging him to squeeze harder what you arch your back of the bed in hopes of inching your cunt closer to his mouth.

Azriel's grip around your throat tightened slightly at your eager response, his thumb applying just enough pressure to send a thrill of excitement through you. With a low growl, he finally gave in to your pleas, his mouth descending upon your dripping folds.

He lavished your pussy with attention, his tongue delving deep inside you as he fucked you with slow, deliberate strokes while flicks of dark swirl around your clit. He explored every inch of your sex, savoring the taste of your arousal, the feel of your slick walls clenching around his tongue.

As he ate you out, Azriel's free hand roamed your body, palming your breasts, pinching your nipples, leaving trails of fire and cold in its wake. He could feel your climax building, could taste your sweet submission on his tongue, and it only fueled his own desire.

"come on babygirl, ride my face while you come."

He brought one of your hands to tangle in his hair and wrapped his arms around the tops of your thighs encouraging you to buck into his tongue.

Your hips bucked off the bed as you came hard on his tongue, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, your juices flowing freely as you cried out his name, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close.

Azriel drank in your release, his tongue lapping up every drop of your essence as he savored the taste of your pleasure. He held you tight, his mouth never leaving your pussy as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, your cries of ecstasy music to his ears.

Only when you finally went limp did he release you, his face glistening with your arousal. He crawled up your body, his chocolate eyes blazing with a fierce possessiveness as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss.

"Now it's my turn," he growled against your lips, his hands tearing at his leathers to free his straining cock.

"Get on your knees, baby, I want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours."

You eagerly roll onto your stomach and push yourself off the bed and onto your knees Infront of him batting your lashes and staring up at him with lust filled eyes.

Azriel watched you move, his heart pounding with a mix of desire and admiration. Your eagerness was intoxicating, fueling his own need even further. He discarded his leathers completely, revealing his veined cock, throbbing with need.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat at the sight of you kneeling before him, your eyes filled with hunger and desire. He ran a hand through your disheveled hair, his fingers tangling in your locks as he guided your head towards his aching cock.

"Open wide, love," *he murmured, his voice thick with need.

"Show me how much you need me."

you took him into your mouth, Azriel let out a low groan, his hips bucking involuntarily. Your warm, wet mouth felt like heaven, and he had to fight the urge to thrust too hard, too fast. Instead, he set a steady pace, his hands guiding your head as you sucked the tip every time he pulled out.

"Fuck, good girl," he gasped, his grip tightening in your hair. "You fucking feel incredible..."You moaned softly as you took him deeper into your mouth working your tongue over his cock, your hands reaching up to cup his balls as you continue to suckle on his cock.

The sensation of your tongue working over his length, coupled with the feeling of your hands on his balls, sent jolts of pleasure coursing through Azriel's body. He watched you, entranced by the sight of your lips stretched around his cock, the sound of your soft moans vibrating against him.

"That's right, baby," he purred, his voice heavy with lust.

"Take all of me... Show me how much you want this..."

He began to move faster, his hips rocking into your mouth, setting a rhythm that had him teetering on the brink of release. His fingers threaded through your hair, urging you on, pushing you to take him even deeper.

"fuck yes! Good girl, just like tha- oh such fucking good girl!"

You moan louder now sending subtle vibrations down his shaft, your cheeks hollowing out as you suck harder on his cock, taking him deeper each time until he hits the back of your throat. You gag softly but quickly recover and continue sucking him off as if your life depends on it.

The feeling of your throat constricting around his cock was almost too much for Azriel to bear. He grunted, his hands gripping your hair tighter as he fucked your mouth with abandon, his hips snapping forward with each thrust.

"Oh gods, baby..." he groaned, his voice ragged with need.

"You're going to make me come so fucking hard..."

His cock throbbed in your mouth, signaling his imminent release. With a final, powerful thrust, he spilled his seed into your willing mouth, his cum coating your tongue and spilling down your chin.

"That's it... Swallow it all..."

Swiping your fingers over your chin you collect the molten cream and swallow every last drop of his cum, your throat working to milk him dry, your eyes locked on his as you gaze up at him with a look of complete satisfaction and devotion.

Azriel watched, transfixed, as your throat bobbed swallowing his cum, your tongue working to milk him dry. He let out a satisfied sigh, his fingers gently stroking through your hair as he admired the look of complete satisfaction on your face.

"You're amazing," he murmured, pulling out of your mouth and offering you a hand up.

"I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did."

With a smile, he pulled you into his arms for a deep, passionate kiss, his hands roaming over your body as he savored the taste of you still lingering on his tongue.

You lean into his touch, your body pressed tightly against his as you kiss him back just as passionately, your hands running over his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his skin.

Azriel dominated you mouth with a throaty moan, his hands exploring your curves with a growing urgency. He broke away from the kiss only long enough to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, savoring the taste of your skin.

"I want more," he whispered huskily,

"but I think we should save some energy for later."With that, he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you back to the bed where he laid you down, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked down at you.

You giggle lightly as he lays you back down on the bed, your legs parting slightly as you invite him closer.

Azriel's gaze followed the movement of your legs, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he saw the invitation in your eyes. He climbed onto the bed, settling between your thighs, his weight supported on his elbows as he gazed down at you.

"Impatient little thing, aren't you?" he teased, his voice low and playful.

He leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak before giving it a gentle bite.

"But don't worry, love. I plan to take full advantage of that"

Feeling your hands in his hair, Azriel gave a low chuckle, the vibration of his laughter traveling straight to your breasts. He continued his attentions, alternating between teasing your nipples and tracing patterns across your skin with his tongue.

"Hmm, sounds like someone wants more," he murmured, his voice muffled against your flesh.

Pulling back slightly, he shifted his position, aligning his cock with your slick entrance. Without another word, he pushed inside you, filling you completely with a single, smooth stroke.

You arch your back, pressing your breasts back into his waiting mouth as he teases and bites at your sensitive nipples, a soft moan escaping your lips. Your hands find their way to his hair, tangling in the strands as you pull him closer, desperate for more of his touch.

"Fucking hell, babygirl..." he groaned, his hips beginning to rock slowly as he adjusted to your tight warmth. impatience."

He moved to your other breast, lavishing the same attention upon it, all while grinding his hardening cock against your core. Your back arches off the bed as he fills you, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the sudden intrusion. But as he begins to move, slow and deliberate, you relax into him, your inner walls clenching around his thickness.

"Ah... yes..." you breathe out, your hands tightening in his hair.

"Just like that... Don't stop..."

Hearing your plea, Azriel picked up the pace, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency. Each thrust drove him deeper into your welcoming heat, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

"Gods, you feel incredible," he growled, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dueling with yours as he fucked you relentlessly.

His hands roamed your body, squeezing your ass cheeks, tracing the curve of your waist, and finally, cupping your breasts once again, thumbing your nipples into stiff peaks.

You meet his kiss with equal fervor, your tongue dancing with his as you lose yourself in the sensation of being filled so completely. Your legs wrap around his ass, pulling him even deeper within you, urging him on.

"Oh god, Azriel!" you cry out, your walls spasming around him, milking him for all he's worth.

Feeling your orgasm ripple through you, Azriel let out a guttural roar, burying himself as deep as he could go as he found his own release. He came hard, pulsing streams of hot cum inside you, his body shuddering with the force of it.

"baby Fuck, y/n-" he gasped, collapsing forward, catching himself on his elbows to keep from crushing you before pulling out and gently resting himself on top of you, his hips still between your legs and his head resting on your breasts.

He stayed there for a moment, panting, his heart pounding against your chest, before slowly rolling to the side, taking you with him so you were draped across his chest.

"That was... intense," he panted, his fingers trailing lazily up and down your spine.

"Are you okay, baby?"

"Yeah... That was amazing." you murmur, snuggling closer to him, enjoying the afterglow of their lovemaking.

As you lay there, spent and satisfied, your the aftershocks of your orgasm. You nod weakly, a contented smile tugging at your lips.

Azriel smiled, his fingers gently stroking through your hair as you nestled against him. He could feel the warmth of your body pressed to his, the steady beat of your heart against his chest.

"I know, baby," he said softly, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

"And it's only going to get better from here."

His hand trailed lower, his fingers finding your hip, where he gave a gentle squeeze.

"Now rest, we've got plenty of time to explore more later when you can feel your legs again." He taunted with a tired grin.

You sigh contentedly with a fucked out smile on your face, feeling utterly relaxed and loved. You close your eyes, letting the warmth of his body envelope you, and drift off to sleep in his arms.

Watching you drift off to sleep, Azriel couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment. Here, in his embrace, safe and protected, with his beautiful mate, it was everything he could ever want. And now, it seemed, he had it all.

With a final lingering look, he allowed himself to relax fully, his breathing evening out to match yours. As he drifted toward sleep, he knew one thing for certain - this was just the beginning.

[cosmiclily]

when she sees me

★ vi x f!reader

wc: 5.4k

cw: reader goes on a date with one (1) guy for exactly 27 minutes; pure tooth roting fluff.

notes: this was @entraptasimp request but tumblr was being a bitch and i lost the ask 😭. this got my brain juices working, it started off with nothing to do with what you requested but i worked my way through it, i had so much fun writing it, hope you like it !!

I was born a fundamentally anxious person. I like things a certain way—I’ve never liked guessing games or the feeling of not knowing how things would unfold. That’s why I’ve never been a fan of dating apps, meet-cutes, or anything that required me to dive into the unknown. Even my reading choices reflected that. I always gravitated toward romances where the main characters were destined to be together, the kind where they had known each other forever and love was inevitable.

So when it came to my own life, I was completely lost. Imagine spending almost 21 years never having a boyfriend, a girlfriend, or anything remotely romantic. It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried—I’d had experiences, but they were all terrible. The kind of stuff you look back on and cringe so hard you want to erase the memory altogether.

"Can you believe I’ll be 21 soon, and I’ve never dated anyone?" I groaned, tossing a handful of popcorn into my mouth. Vi, my best friend, was sprawled next to me on my bed, equally engrossed in our snacks but pretending to care about whatever show was playing in the background. "Even you had girlfriends. What is wrong with me?"

Vi turned to me with a dramatic gasp, her mouth still half-full of popcorn. "What do you mean, even me? I’m a greatcatch! Good looking, great muscles, and super smart. You can’t beat that."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, super humble too, I see."

She smirked, flexing her arm like she was some kind of bodybuilder. "Exactly. You’re just jealous."

I sighed, staring at the ceiling. "No, I’m just… I don’t know. It feels like I missed some crucial lesson everyone else got. Like, how do people just meet someone and start dating them? How does it happen so easily for everyone else?"

Vi was quiet for a moment before she nudged me with her foot. "It’s not easy for everyone. And maybe it’s not supposed to be easy for you. Maybe you’re just waiting for the right kind of difficult."

I frowned. “What does that even mean?”

Vi shrugged. “I don’t know, it just sounded poetic. But seriously, maybe you just haven’t met the right person yet. Or maybe you’re meant for a slow-burn romance—like the ones in those books you love so much.”

I groaned, rolling onto my side. “But I’m tired, Vi,” I whined. “I hate relying on fate, or destiny, or whatever. I need to do something!”

She stared at me for a moment, her eyes narrowing like she was deep in thought. I could practically see the gears turning in her head, and that was never a good sign.

“Okay, hmm.” She tapped her fingers against her chin. “I know you don’t like dating apps, and you hate talking to strangers, but unless you want to date me, or Mel, or—I don’t know—Jayce…”

I made a face so disgusted she burst out laughing.

“Right, so unless you want to date your friends,” she continued, still grinning, “you’re going to have to get to know someone new.”

I groaned dramatically, burying my face in my pillow. “But I don’t like meeting people.”

Vi let out an exaggerated sigh. “God, you’re insufferable.” She poked my shoulder until I looked at her again. “Again! Unless you’re planning to date your friends, you have to meet new people. So! My idea is… I choose your suitors based on what I think you’d like. You go on a date with them, and if you don’t like them, we move on to someone else. We keep going until we find you a partner.”

I stared at her. “You make it sound like a game show.”

She grinned. “Oh, it absolutely is a game show now.”

──────────────────────

“So, to start off—download every dating app you can find. We’re setting up your profile and swiping away!” Vi announced, a sinister grin on her face and a bag of chips perched on her lap. It was honestly kind of terrifying.

I hesitated, staring at her like she had just suggested I walk barefoot across hot coals. “Okay, I just don’t see how forcing me to do something I hate is the solution here.” Still, I begrudgingly opened the app store and started scrolling through the endless sea of dating apps.

“Exposure therapy, Y/N!” Vi declared, stuffing a handful of chips into her mouth. “Besides, I’ve known you my whole life. If I don’t make you do this, you’re going to end up single well into your sixties, whining in my ears about your wasted youth and how you never got the love story you deserved.” She pitched her voice higher, dramatically placing a hand on her chest. “‘Oh, Vi, why didn’t you force me to date when I had the chance?’”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Hey! I don’t sound like that.”

Vi snorted. “You absolutely do.”

I sighed, already regretting this. “Fine. But if this turns into a disaster, you owe me—big time.”

She grinned. “Oh, don’t worry. This is going to be legendary.”

As soon as the apps finished downloading, Vi snatched my phone right out of my hands. “Nope! You are not sabotaging your own chances at finding love,” she declared, her eyes gleaming with determination.

I sighed, letting her take control because, honestly, fighting her on this would be pointless. Vi had always been like this—stubborn, overenthusiastic, and convinced she knew what was best for me. And, to be fair, she usually did.

Vi had been my best friend since birth. Literally. Our moms had been best friends in college and ended up pregnant around the same time, so we grew up side by side. Sure, she could be very annoying at times, but she was also the person I trusted most in the world. We had been through every high and low together, and despite her occasional chaos, I knew she always had my back.

“There! Your profile is complete,” Vi announced, handing me my phone with a triumphant smile. “Now, we can start hunting for our prey.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I really don’t like that you’re calling them ‘prey.’”

She shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? It’s the circle of life, Y/N. We swipe, we match, we conquer.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to do this.”

Vi ignored me, already swiping through potential matches like she was picking out groceries. “Ooooh, this one’s cute. She looks like she reads books and goes to the gym. A rare breed.”

I groaned. This was going to be a nightmare.

──────────────────────

During the weekend that Vi stayed over at my house, we matched with a handful of people—well, she matched with them while I mostly watched in horror. By Sunday night, she had already set up a few dates for me. The first one was with a girl named Ashley. She had dark green hair, loved musicals, and was apparently obsessed with Lana Del Rey.

“You’re coming with me, right?” I asked the second Vi dropped the news.

She blinked at me, unimpressed. “How exactly do you expect me to do that?”

“I don’t know! Put on a fake mustache, wear sunglasses, sit at a different table—something!” I waved my hands dramatically. “What if the date is a disaster? What if she’s weird, or hates me, or—what if I need to escape?!”

Vi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose like she was already regretting signing up for this. “Y/N, you’re a grown adult. You can sit through one date without me holding your hand.”

“You say that, but you’re also the one who forced me into this,” I pointed out.

“Okay, fair.” She crossed her arms, thinking for a moment. “How about this—I’ll sit nearby but not like, right there. If you need an out, text me a code word, and I’ll call you with a fake emergency.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What’s the code word?”

Vi smirked. “Summertime sadness.”

I groaned. “You’re the worst.”

She grinned, tossing a pillow at me. “And yet, you’d be lost without me.”

The date was scheduled for Friday, and there I was, sitting at a window table in the local diner, nervously tapping my fingers against the menu. Vi sat three tables away, pretending to be interested in her milkshake but very obviously keeping an eye on me.

I had no idea what to expect. I barely knew anything about Ashley—we had exchanged a few texts, but nothing meaningful. She was essentially a stranger I was about to have dinner with, and the thought alone made my stomach twist.

Vi caught my eye and gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up, trying to send some reassurance my way. It didn’t really help, but I appreciated the effort.

Then, I saw her. Or rather, I saw her hair first. Ashley’s dark green hair stood out even from a distance, but what really sealed the deal was the bright pink jacket she wore over an all-black outfit, complete with chunky black boots. She was hard to miss.

As she approached the table, she smiled wide. “Hii, you must be Y/N!” she greeted, sliding into the seat across from me with an excited energy.

I straightened up. “Yes! Nice to meet you!”

And honestly? It was nice to meet her—at least, at first. The conversation flowed smoothly. She asked about my life, I asked about hers, and everything seemed to be going well. That is… until she brought up her cat.

Lana.

Named, of course, after Lana Del Rey.

Which was cute at first—until Ashley did not stop talking about her.

Not joking, for thirty minutes straight, she went on about Lana’s favorite toys, her special diet, the way she sensed when Ashley was sad and comforted her like a “little furry angel.” Every time I thought she was done, she’d whip out her phone and scroll through an endless gallery of Lana’s pictures.

My face was cramping from forcing a smile. I snuck a glance at Vi, who was clearly enjoying my suffering way too much.

I subtly reached for my phone and typed a single text.

Summertime sadness.

That’s when Vi stood up, striding toward our table with intent. At first, I was confused—she looked… angry?

For a brief second, panic flared in my chest. Had I texted the wrong code word? Was something actually wrong?

Then, she stopped in front of us, dramatically placing a hand over her heart like she was in a soap opera.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” she gasped, sounding exasperated. “I cannot believe what my eyes are showing me! You—cheating on me! And in our favorite diner, of all places?!”

It took me a second, but then I caught on to the theatrics.

I shot up from my seat, clutching my chest as if I had just been caught in the act. “No, Vi, my love! This is not what it looks like!” I turned to Ashley, gesturing dramatically. “I don’t even know this girl! We were just making friendly conversation, you have to believe me!”

Ashley blinked between us, looking both confused and mildly alarmed. “…Wait, what?”

Vi let out a loud, exaggerated sob and turned away. “I trusted you! And this is how you repay me?”

I reached for her hand, playing along. “Baby, please! Let me explain!”

Ashley slowly leaned back in her chair, gripping her drink. “Uh. I—should I leave, or…?”

Vi sniffled, dabbing at her dry eyes like she was wiping away imaginary tears. “No, no. I’ll leave. I just can’t bear to look at you right now, Y/N. I hope you and your little fling are very happy together.” She turned on her heel, storming out with all the grace of a drama queen.

I turned back to Ashley with an apologetic smile. “I should… probably go after her.”

Ashley just nodded, still looking completely lost. “Uh. Yeah. You should… go do that.”

I grabbed my jacket, muttering a quick, “It was nice meeting you,” before practically running out of the diner after Vi.

The second we were outside, we both burst into laughter.

“Oh my god, that was so unhinged,” Vi wheezed, wiping at her eyes.

I groaned, shaking my head. “I cannot believe you just did that.”

She shrugged. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

I sighed, but I couldn’t help but laugh again. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for saving me.”

Vi smirked. “Anytime, cheater.”

──────────────────────

And I would love to say the other dates went even remotely better—but I’d be lying.

The second date was with a guy named Chad—which, honestly, should’ve been the first red flag. He was a full-on gym bro, the kind who talked about nothing but his gains and his macros. He was so obsessed with hitting his daily protein intake that he actually pulled out a shaker bottle mid-conversation and started chugging a protein shake like we were at a post-workout hangout instead of a date.

I lasted exactly 27 minutes before sending Vi our secret code word: creatine.

Within seconds, my phone rang, and Vi’s panicked voice echoed through the speaker. “Oh my god, Y/N! Grandma’s been in a car accident—the car’s on fire! You need to leave IMMEDIATELY!”

I slapped my hand over my mouth, trying to look convincingly horrified. “Oh no! Not grandma! I—I’m so sorry, Chad, I have to go!”

He barely looked up from flexing his bicep in the reflection of his water glass. “Yeah, cool, family first or whatever. Just don’t forget to hit the gym tomorrow—you’ll feel better.”

I practically sprinted out of there.

The third date? Even worse.

This girl—her name was Marissa—decided to bring her lizard to our date. Yes. A lizard. She texted me to meet her at the park, and I figured, “Oh, cool, a casual outdoor date.” But the second I spotted her on the bench with a giant reptiledraped over her shoulder like it was an accessory, I just… stopped in my tracks.

I didn’t even bother texting Vi. I turned right back around and walked away like I’d never seen that park in my life.

Later, as Vi drove us away from the disaster zone, I was still fuming.

“She brought her lizard, Vi! Her LIZARD!” I complained, slumping in the passenger seat like the sheer memory drained me.

Vi snorted, barely holding back her laughter. “You wouldn’t be having this reaction if it was a dog. Just saying.”

“Because dogs are normal! Lizards are not a third-wheel you bring on a date!”

She grinned, giving me a playful nudge. “Maybe the lizard was her emotional support animal.”

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “I’m never doing this again.”

Vi just laughed. “Oh, yes you are. We’ve only just begun.”

The fourth date was… surprisingly normal.

Her name was Ellie, and she was hot as fuck. Like, the moment she walked in, I felt my soul leave my body. She had this effortless, cool-girl vibe—tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of her denim jacket, a lazy smile that could probably stop traffic, and this way of looking at you like she was reading your mind.

And the best part? She was actually fun to talk to. She played guitar, had this dry, witty sense of humor, and we clicked in that easy, natural way I didn’t even know was possible. For the first time since Vi threw me into this dating nightmare, I thought, Hey, maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

But, of course, the universe wasn’t about to let me have that.

As the date was winding down, Ellie gave me this soft, apologetic look. I knew something was coming, but I wasn’t prepared for that.

“Hey, so…” she started, fiddling with the ring on her finger. “You’re a really nice girl, like, seriously. But I’m not, uh… I’m not over my ex. And talking to you tonight made me realize how much I miss her. I hope you find what you’re looking for, though. Truly.”

She was so sweet about letting me down, which almost made it worse. Like, why did the only nice, amazing, tattooed goddess have to be the one who didn’t want anything to do with me?

By the time I got home, I was ready to burn Vi’s whole dating plan to the ground. I flopped onto my bed and immediately called her.

“This isn’t working, Vi. Seriously,” I groaned the moment she answered. “Where are you even finding these people? I just had one of the best dates of my life, and suddenly she’s not over her ex?”

Vi snorted on the other end. “Oof. That’s rough.”

“I’m not joking!” I whined, dramatically kicking my feet like I was five. “This is your fault. You roped me into this mess, and now I’m emotionally attached to a girl who doesn’t even want me!”

Vi burst into laughter. “Wow, you’re really going through all five stages of grief, huh?”

“I’m stuck at betrayal, thanks.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s just one date. You’ll bounce back.”

“I don’t want to bounce back, Vi. I want Ellie,” I grumbled, burying my face in my pillow.

There was a pause, then Vi said, “Well… maybe the next date will be even better.”

I groaned louder. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are, still letting me pick your dates.”

Unfortunately, she wasn’t wrong.

──────────────────────

After all the disasters I’d been through, I was done with dating. Completely over it. No more awkward small talk, no more weird code words, and definitely no more dates with people who brought lizards as emotional support. Vi, however, refused to let it go. She’d still ramble on about people she’d matched with, her excitement bubbling over like I wasn’t emotionally scarred from the last lineup of dating catastrophes. I didn’t want to hear about it anymore—I knew this wasn’t going to work.

“Okay,” Vi started one afternoon, plopping dramatically onto my bed like she was about to deliver some life-altering news. “I know you’re fed up with the dating apps. And with me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Especially with you.”

She ignored me. “But there’s one more person I’d like you to give a chance to.”

I groaned, flopping back onto the bed with the same energy as a dying Victorian woman. “Vi—”

She cut me off with a look. That hopeful, annoyingly earnest look that always managed to crack through my walls, no matter how stubborn I was. Despite being mad at her—or at least pretending to be—I could never actually say no to her. It was like some unspoken rule of our friendship.

“Ugh, fine!” I threw my hands up, as if surrendering to the universe itself. “But this is the last time.” I sat up, pointing a finger at her like I was laying down the law. “I’m serious, Vi. After this, I’m done. If anyone wants to date me, they’ll have to show up at my door, kidnap me, and force me into a relationship.”

She burst out laughing, but there was something off about it—like it was a little too forced, a little too high-pitched. Her usual chaotic confidence was still there, but underneath it, I noticed a flicker of something…nervous?

“Yeah, well…” She cleared her throat, rubbing the back of her neck. “About that. There’s just one small catch.”

I squinted at her, already suspicious. “What kind of catch?”

She grinned, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “The date is a secret until you get there.”

I blinked. “A secret?”

“Yup.” She popped the ‘p’ with exaggerated cheer. “No name, no details—just show up and let the magic happen.”

I stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “Vi. Do you hear yourself? This sounds like the start of a true crimedocumentary.”

She waved me off. “Oh, please. If anyone tried to kidnap you, you’d be the one they regretted it instantly.”

Fair point.

Still, something about her expression stuck with me—this weird mix of excitement and nerves. But, like the fool I was, I agreed. Again.

──────────────────────

On the day of my mystery date, I spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to figure out what to wear. Which was ridiculous because, technically, I didn’t even know who I was meeting. But somehow, the not-knowing made it worse. Was I supposed to go casual? Dressy? Prepare for another lizard-wrangling situation?

When I finally arrived at the little café Vi had texted me the address to, my stomach was doing Olympic-level flips. I scanned the room, half-expecting to see another “Chad” flexing in a corner or someone waiting with their tarantula perched on the table.

But there was no Chad. No lizard. No tarantula.

Just Vi.

Sitting at a small table by the window, nervously fiddling with her rings, her usual cocky grin nowhere in sight. She looked up, and when our eyes met, she gave me this small, almost shy smile.

I froze.

“This…is a joke, right?” I blurted, laughing nervously as I approached her table.

She stood up, shoving her hands in the pockets of her red jacket—the same one she always wore, but somehow it felt… different now.

“No joke,” she said quietly, her voice lacking its usual smugness. “I’m the date.”

I blinked. “You’re the date.”

She nodded, her lips twitching like she couldn’t decide whether to smile or run. “Yeah. Surprise?”

I didn’t know what to say. My brain short-circuited, replaying every moment we’d shared—the teasing, the late-night calls, the way my heart always felt lighter around her. How had I not seen it before?

“…Are you kidding me?” I finally managed, shaking my head with a breathless laugh. “You put me through all of that—Chad, the lizard girl, the Lana Del Rey monologue—just to end up here with you?”

She grinned, her confidence slipping back into place like muscle memory. “Well, technically, I needed you to realize everyone else sucks compared to me.”

I rolled my eyes, but my heart was racing for an entirely different reason now.

“You’re insufferable,” I muttered, sliding into the seat across from her.

Her grin softened into something more sincere. “Yeah, but… you’re still here.”

I didn’t have a comeback for that.

Because she was right.

I was still there.

We ordered our coffees—or rather, Vi ordered them. She didn’t even need to ask. She knew exactly what I wanted: an iced caramel latte and a chocolate muffin. It was such a small thing, but it hit me harder than I expected. She knew my order by heart, like it was second nature. And somehow, that simple gesture left me sitting there in awe, my heart doing this ridiculous flutter thing that I refused to acknowledge.

I watched her as she thanked the barista, her fingers tapping against the counter in that restless way she always did when she was nervous—or pretending not to be. When she finally sat back down across from me, her knee bumped against mine under the table. She didn’t move it.

The question slipped out before I could stop it, soft and almost hesitant.

“Since when?”

Vi tilted her head slightly, squinting like she wasn’t sure what I meant. “Since when what?” She scratched the side of her neck, her fingers brushing over the edge of her tattoo like it was a nervous habit.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry.

“Since when did you… want to go on a date with me?”

Her expression shifted. Just for a second. A flicker of something vulnerable slipped through the cracks of her usual confidence. But then she let out a short, breathy laugh, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe I’d even asked.

“Being one hundred percent honest?” she said, leaning back in her chair, her arms crossed like she needed a shield. “Since I became conscious about anything in my life.”

I blinked. “What?”

She laughed again, a little softer this time. “I mean it. You’ve always been there, you know? But you were so busy with your face buried in those books, rambling about epic love stories and grand, sweeping gestures. And there I was, just… me.” She cleared her throat as the waitress brought our order, the clink of ceramic cups filling the brief silence.

She picked up her coffee, but didn’t take a sip. Instead, she stared at it like it held the answers she was too afraid to say out loud. “I guess I got a little self-conscious. Like, how was I supposed to compete with all those ‘great loves’ you read about? And you never really seemed to care much about dating, so I figured… if I said something, you’d just let me down.”

Her words hit me like a freight train—because how had I not seen it? How had I been so blind?

“I… I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, my voice quieter than I intended. I stared at her, really looked at her, like I was seeing her for the first time. “I never thought that what I was looking for was quite literally right in front of me.”

Vi didn’t respond immediately. She just smiled—small, a little shy, but undeniably real. The kind of smile that makes your chest ache in the best way.

And that’s when it hit me.

I’d spent my whole life waiting for a cliché love story.

The kind with grand declarations, epic twists, and movie-worthy moments.

But what could be more cliché than this?

A slow burn, friends-to-lovers situation, sitting right across from me with a smug grin and a coffee order she knew by heart.

Maybe the love story I’d been searching for wasn’t in the books after all.

Maybe it was in the girl who’d been there all along.

I reached for my latte, mostly just to have something to do with my hands because my heart was practically sprinting. The ice clinked against the sides of the cup, loud in the quiet between us. Vi was still watching me, her gaze steady, like she wasn’t afraid of what I’d say next. Like she already knew.

But I didn’t know. I didn’t know how to string words together when everything inside me felt tangled—like someone had taken all the pages of my life, ripped them out, and shuffled them around until nothing made sense except her.

So I blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Vi chuckled, shaking her head. “Because I’m an idiot?” She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “Or maybe I was just scared. Scared that if I said something, I’d lose you. And losing you… would’ve been worse than keeping it to myself.”

The honesty in her voice settled over me like a weighted blanket—comforting and overwhelming all at once. I thought about every late-night conversation, every casual touch that lingered just a second too long, every time she looked at me like I was her whole world, and I’d been too oblivious to notice.

Maybe I had noticed.

Maybe I was just too scared to admit it.

I glanced down at my muffin, untouched, then back at her. “You’re kind of dumb, you know that?”

She snorted. “Yeah, I’ve been told.”

I smiled, feeling it stretch wider than it had in a long time. “But so am I.”

The words weren’t grand or poetic. There was no sweeping background music, no dramatic lighting. Just the faint hum of the coffee shop, the cold of my drink between my hands, and Vi’s knee still pressed against mine like it belonged there.

And maybe that was enough.

No—it was enough.

I reached across the table, my fingers brushing over hers. She froze for a second, her breath hitching, then slowly turned her hand over so our palms touched. The warmth of her skin sent a quiet thrill through me, something soft and electric all at once.

“I think,” I whispered, “I’ve been on this date with you for years. I just didn’t know it.”

Vi’s smile was different this time—brighter, softer, filled with something that made my chest ache in the best way.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “Me too.”

──────────────────────

We finished eating between bursts of conversation and laughter, and somehow, everything had changed while staying exactly the same. The comfort was still there, woven into the fabric of who we were, but now it carried something electric beneath the surface. The glances were different—the way her eyes drifted to my mouth when I spoke, the way our intertwined hands never strayed, like we’d forgotten how to exist without that connection.

The walk back to my house felt surreal, our fingers laced tightly together, neither of us willing to let go. Every step felt heavier with anticipation, like the world had tilted slightly, and gravity was pulling us toward something inevitable.

And then, standing at my doorstep, she kissed me.

It wasn’t tentative or shy—it was certain, like she’d been waiting her whole life to do it and wasn’t going to waste another second. It felt like being woken up, like every nerve ending had been dormant until that exact moment. My heart raced, but everything else stilled, like the world had gone quiet just for us.

It was the kind of kiss that rewrites everything you thought you knew about love.

Pieces of a puzzle perfectly aligned.

Vi’s hands found my waist, pulling me closer, and she kissed me like her life depended on it—like I was the air she’d been searching for. My fingers threaded through her hair instinctively, and she let out a quiet sigh against my lips that sent shivers down my spine.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, she rested her forehead against mine, her thumb brushing soft circles against my cheeks.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” she whispered, her voice low and rough around the edges.

I smiled, my heart still racing, my hands still trembling slightly from the intensity of it all. “Then do it again.”

And she did.

Over and over, like she was making up for all the years we’d been too afraid to cross the line.

But we weren’t afraid anymore.

We stayed there for what felt like forever, just standing in front of my house, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace. It was like time had paused, giving us this perfect moment where nothing else mattered but the two of us. The city sounds faded into the background, and all I could hear was the soft rhythm of her breath mingling with mine.

Eventually, she pulled back, just enough to look at me. Her eyes were full of something I couldn’t quite name, but it made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t want to let go of.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice softer now, like a fragile question hanging in the air.

I laughed, breathless, my fingers still tracing the edge of her jaw. “Are you kidding? I’ve been sure for longer than I care to admit.”

She smiled, a quiet, content smile that made me want to hold onto it forever. “Good,” she murmured, her lips brushing against mine again, this time slower, like she was savoring the moment, taking her time.

We didn’t need to rush anymore. Not tonight.

We stayed close as we stepped inside, neither of us wanting to break the connection, like if we did, everything we’d built might shatter. Her hand never left mine as we walked through the door, and when we finally reached the couch, we sat side by side, still tangled up in each other, unable to fully separate.

The night stretched out before us, full of possibilities, full of all the unspoken words between us that no longer needed to be said. Every moment felt like a revelation, like we were discovering each other all over again, but in the most intimate way possible.

Vi’s head rested on my shoulder, her breath even and steady now, and I realized, as I looked at the way she fit against me, that this was it. This was the start of something new, something I hadn’t known I was waiting for but had needed all along.

“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” she whispered, her voice light with amusement but also a touch of something deeper.

I smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Yeah, we are.”

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t scared of what was coming next. Because it wasn’t about the destination anymore—it was about the journey we were going to take together, step by step, kiss by kiss.

And I was ready for all of it.

──────────────────────

masterlist

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

the “monster”- winchester brothers

pairing: the winchester brothers x hunter! fem! reader

summary: you consume an energy drink for the first time… and the boys have to deal with the consequences

word count: no idea, im writing this as i go!1!1

warnings: swearing, some sexual undertones? kinda? flirting (this is a no wincest zone ew), size kink if you squint, pet names

this is inspired by me having an energy drink and being wide awake at 1:30am as a consequence:)

“we need to put her ass in the fuckin trunk” dean grumbled, eyes catching yours in the reflection of the rearview. it had been a long day- a long week actually- as hunting with the winchester brothers usually was.

don’t get it twisted, it was amazing. you loved them to bits and pieces. they were your best friends and you had massive crushes on them but that’s besides the point.

but hunting was difficult. especially because you had just kinda been tossed in the middle of them- literally, and had limited prior experience to this whole demon thing.

the other demon you dealt with was deans snoring, and the crappy old motel beds you had to share with one of the brothers whichever night- taking turns, they called it. not that you minded much- but sam was such a giant he basically swallowed the whole bed, the sheets- with you tangled in it. sleep was limited here. time was of the essence, when it came to backseat sleeps.

but tonight… tonight it was different. sam had starting talking about some kind of demon, a new case- and it had perked your interest more than usual. so had you drank two energy drinks to stay awake the entire night- researching? yes. yes you had. and now the brothers were suffering the consequences of allowing those two monsters down your throat.

“dean you couldn’t possibly do that. cause then who would distract you from the road?” you chirped, leg bouncing so much it practically rattled the impala. you could see sam in the side mirror, a hand over his mouth, trying so very hard not to laugh at you and your perky attitude.

“i’m sure we could still feel your presence from the trunk sweetheart you’re so god damn roudy- HEY WHAT THE FUCK?” he yelled, the car jerking slightly as you put your finger in your mouth before sticking it right in deans ear.

“DID YOU JUST GIVE ME A WET WILLY? WHAT ARE WE FIVE?”

“twenty five.” you said, making a two and a five with your hands, smiling ear to ear knowing you had distracted him. you couldn’t help it. you loved their attention, and right now? you needed it. or you’d go crazy and jump out the car, having so much energy you could probably jog next to it.

“okay, okay- you two enough. let’s just get to the room and then we can separate yeah?”

“yeah by like two feet. you get her tonight dude. i am not sleeping next to the chipmunk from hoodwinked.” dean mumbled, rolling his eyes.

“oh sammy. you’re stuck with me- but it’s okay! i’m not sleeping tonight anyways. too much work to do- i gotta start with some archives…” you murmured to yourself as you stared out the window, mentally making a checklist of everything you needed to do tonight. sleep was not on it.

finally, after what felt like ages, the car had sped into the parking lot of some dingy motel and you practically scrambled out.

“okay, okay let’s go! let’s go let’s go! jesus are you always so slow? just because you guys are giants doesn’t mean you have to be sloths.” you grabbed sams large hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as you tried to pull him forward- failing miserably.

dean just shook his head, holding back a laugh. “ im gonna get us checked in. you deal with her.” he turned his attention to you, a glint in his eye. “now sweetheart don’t give him any trouble for like.. five minutes. kay?”

“kay.” you nodded, swinging sams arm as you rocked back and forth on your feet. “i’m so excited.” you confessed, making sam crinkle his nose in confusion.

“why are you excited princess?”

you loved the pet names they gave you. they always sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach- especially because they were assigned. not technically, of course. but dean always called you sweetheart. and sam always called you princess. that’s just how it was.

“cause there’s so much to read about! i can’t read in the car, i get so much motion sickness. but now that we’re here i can finally make some notes! hey, according to the lore…” you trailed off, making him laugh loudly. “you’re so cute. you know that?”

you shrugged, grabbing his arm.“guess so. you guys say it all the time, so i guess it’s true.”

“it is true. we lie to everyone else- but never you.” sam smirked, lifting his arm and flexing, sending you up off the ground with him, making you squeal at the sudden height difference. the size difference between you and both the brothers made your body heat- just a little. they were your best friends- it was wrong of you to think of them that way but… they way they could just manhandle you like you were nothing…

“all set.” a voice called out, and you saw dean with a set of keys jingling in his hand. he stopped at the sight of you and groaned. “so what, nows she’s some kind of spider monkey?”

you giggled as sam carried you into the room, throwing you down on the bed with a bounce. you were excited, like you were every night- to sleep next to them. they often instinctively held you while they slept- as if they were trying to keep you safe.

sometimes it was just a little cuddle, and a soft forehead kiss or a hair stroke goodnight, other times you woke up with something big and hard pressed against your ass. it was always a gamble. and you were up for it either way.

“so!” you exclaimed, rolling up and grabbing a bag. “we hittin the books or what?!”

————

mood: bouncing off the walls

[phantomwithbreakfast]

Join our Danny Phantom discord server! (18+)

⟢ Discord Link ♡

⟢ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 ⟢

PWB’s quote: “Better crazy and a freak, than being normal and boring, right? Right.”

Not exactly new to the Phandom, but more like an OG Phan. I’ve been hyper-fixated (a little obsessed, yeah, I love him) with 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦 since day one. Took a loooong break for a while, but something just…

˗ˏˋ 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 ˎˊ˗

Danny’s a hero I lost touch with—but found again. Reconnecting with him feels like rediscovering a part of myself, a spark I didn’t realize I was missing.

Why do I write angst and hurt? To process my own pain, to give voice to the unspoken wounds I carry. No, I haven’t lived through the exact horrors I write about—but pieces of me are woven into every story. My emotions, my struggles, my scars—they seep into the pages, twisted and reshaped into something I can hold, something I can face. Writing is my way of making sense of the chaos within.

If you need a hug, click here.

١٥٧٤♡

⟢ 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐈 𝐔𝐬𝐞 ⟢

Instagram ⟡ Archive Of Our Own ⟡ Discord

⌗ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⌗

(working on it)

⟢ 𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ⟢

⋆.˚ ⚡︎ 𝙎𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙃𝙖𝙡𝙛 𝘼 𝙇𝙞𝙛𝙚 ⚡︎ ˚.⋆

Ao3 ⟡ Cover Art ⟡ Art 01 ⟡ Art 02 ⟡ Art 03 ⟡ Art 04 ⟡ Art 05 ⟡ Animation ⟡ Art 06 ⟡ Art 07 ⟡ Phantom Sheet 01 ⟡ Art 08

⟢ Genre: Whump / Angst / Hurt / No Comfort / Horror • TW/CW: Strong Language — Mental Health Struggles — Violence — Emotional Distress — Self-destructive Tendencies — Graphic Content • M Rate

Summary: The GiW took him. Then his parents finished the job. They said it was for his own good. That Phantom was the problem. That Danny could be saved—if only they cut deep enough. “You’re going to wish you never took him from me,” she said, steady and cruel, her red goggles catching his reflection. “You’ll wish you never existed in the first place.”

Disclaimer: This phic is rated M for a reason. If you are underage, please do NOT read it. The themes and content are intended for adults and may be inappropriate or difficult to understand for younger readers.

[In progress]

• • • • • • •

☻% x 𝙏𝙤𝙤 𝘼𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙏𝙤 𝙇𝙞𝙫𝙚, 𝙏𝙤𝙤 𝘼𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙏𝙤 𝘿𝙞𝙚 ×͜×

Ao3 ⟡ Art 01

⟢ Genre: Angst / Tragedy / Psychological / Horror • Overall TW: Strong Language — Mental Health Struggles — Suicidal Ideation — Violence — Parental Neglect — Emotional Abuse — Graphic Content • M rate • CW: Character Death

Summary: “It’s the end of me. I didn’t want to feel and kiss your lips, I wanted to feel and see you suffer instead.”

Disclaimer: This phic is rated M for a reason. If you are underage, please do NOT read it. The themes and content are intended for adults and may be inappropriate or difficult to understand for younger readers.

[In progress]

• • • • • • •

⁺‧₊˚ 𝘼𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙊𝙛 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙄𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 ˚₊‧⁺

Ao3 (uncensored) ⟡ Art 01

⟢ Genre: Angst / Hurt • TW: Emotional Distress • T Rate • First Person’s POV

Summary: Afraid of your own reflection, afraid of the inevitable.

[Completed]

• • • • • • •

._. 𝘿𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙮 𝘿𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙍𝙚𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙣𝙙 ._.

Ao3 (explicit) ⟡ Cover Art

⟢ Genre: Angst / No Comfort / Horror • AU — OOC • TW: Emotional Distress — Violence — Graphic Content • M Rate • Uncomfortable for that pang feeling, so beware! (Or at least, I tried to)

Summary: Battling with family ties and his mom’s shadow looming over him, Danny is forced to confront the unbearable burden of his secrets and broken hope.

[In Progress]

• • • • • • •

⋆｡°✩ 𝙇𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙄𝙣 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙨

FFN ⟡ Cover Art

⟢ Genre: Angst / Hurt / Comfort / Horror • AU — OOC • TW: Emotional Distress — Violence — Graphic Content • M Rate • CW: Character Death

Summary: He should know, but he doesn’t know. He’s confused and doesn’t understand. It hurts and it hurts more.

[Completed]

✎ ᝰ.ᐟ 𝙁𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙣’𝙨 𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝘿𝙞𝙖𝙧𝙮 ♡

FFN ⟡ Art

⟢ Genre: Hurt / Comfort / Romance • TW: Mental Health Struggles — Lemons — Strong Language • M Rate (+16!)

Summary: Fenton finally found the courage to start a diary, a place to pour out all his hidden feelings and secrets. (Don’t like it, don’t read it).

[Completed]

• • • • • • •

♡ 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 ㄨ✘✗ﾒ✗•.ᐟ

FFN ⟡ Cover Art ⟡ Art 01 ⟡ Art 02

⟢ Genre: Hurt / Comfort / Romance • TW: Mental Health Struggles — Strong Language — Violence — Bullying and Harassment • T+ Rate

Summary: Danny is used to keeping secrets. Haunted by relentless bullying and tangled in emotions he can’t explain, he’s torn between duty, friendship, and a desire he can’t escape—a growing bond he’s not sure he should have.

[In Progress]

⟢ 𝐌𝐲 𝐃𝐏 𝐀𝐫𝐭 ⟢

2025

Danny Kinsona ⟡ Danny Redraw 01 ⟡ Danny Redraw (animated) 02 ⟡ Danny Hates Haters ⟡ Danny in Squid Game (animated) ⟡ GhostlyGlimmer’s Phantom ⟡ OG Danny’s ⟡ Happy Danny ⟡ Danny and Jazz ⟡ Delulu Danny ⟡ OC’s Imagination ⟡ Danny and the Blob Ghost ⟡ Dark Valentine ⟡ Valentine ⟡ Dead Eyes / One Brush Challenge ⟡ Dandelions ⟡ DP OC 01 ⟡ DP OC 02 ⟡ DP OC 03 ⟡ DP OC 04 ⟡ DP OC 05 ⟡ DP OC 06 ⟡ Everlasting Trio ⟡ Ballpoint Pen Danny ⟡ Danny College ⟡ Danny With Fangs ⟡ Dannypocalypse ⟡ rePhanimated 01 ⟡ rePhanimated 02 ⟡ Danny Doodles ⟡ Serious Phantom ⟡ I’ll Never Give Up On You ⟡ Vlad Masters Sketch ⟡ Starter Pack Trend With Danny ⟡ Dannymay ⟡ ValerieGrayWeek

2024

Halloween ⟡ The Meaning Behind My Pseudonym ⟡ Mandala Window ‘Ghost Portal’ 01 ⟡ Mandala Window ‘Ghost Portal’ 02 ⟡ Danny Trending ⟡ Why are you doing this to me? ⟡ ‘Cleaned Up Sketches’ ⟡ When December Decides To Cry ⟡ If You Need A Hug ⟡ Happy Holidays ⟡ If You Know, You Know

[dante2045]

The Switch

Coach Thomas let out a loud sigh, slamming his laptop shut. He glanced down at his phone, frowning when he saw the time. Where had his evening gone? He'd been so focused on planning next week's practice drills that he'd barely noticed as the hours slipped by. He rose from his office desk, slipping his laptop into his satchel bag before slinging it over his shoulder.

Campus was virtually deserted at this time of day, with classes having ended hours ago. He walked through the empty halls towards the school's gym facilities, his destination being the men's locker room. He was currently dressed in black gym shorts and a navy blue workout shirt, but had a change of clothes stashed in his locker; he didn't like being sweaty on his lengthy commute back home.

As Coach Thomas entered the changeroom, he nearly bumped into Chase, one of his students. The young man's hair was wet, indicating he'd just been in the showers. He was dressed in blue jeans and a form fitting t-shirt, his backpack hanging around his shoulders.

"Oh, hey Coach," Chase smiled warmly, quickly sidestepping to get out of Coach Thomas' path.

"Chase," Thomas nodded in acknowledgment, "You're here late."

"Yeah, I decided to hit the gym. Trying to put on some muscle," Chase laughed sheepishly, glancing away from Thomas.

Chase was technically on the college team, but he was a glorified benchwarmer who rarely saw any field time. The young man had a toned but slender frame which made him ill fit as a football player. Thomas had only put him on the roster because he felt sorry for Chase and he didn't have enough players with actual talent to fill the team. And although Coach Thomas tried not to admit it - even to himself - he found himself inexplicably attracted to the younger man. Keeping him around in the locker room wasn't a purely selfless endeavor.

"Anyways, I got to get going. Have a good weekend, Coach." Chase gave Thomas another smile before heading out of the locker room, the door swinging shut behind him and leaving Thomas alone with his thoughts.

Thomas made his way over to his locker and began to absentmindedly rifle through it, his thoughts still thinking of Chase. In his many years as coach at the college, he had never made an improper advance towards a student. He knew he couldn't act on any of his urges towards Chase, but that didn't stop Thomas from fantasizing about the younger man.

Coach Thomas was snapped put of his daydream when he noticed a pair of yellow underwear sitting on one of the locker room benches. Thomas found himself drawn towards the bright neon briefs. He could see that they were damp with sweat, indicating they'd been freshly worn; Chase must have forgotten to pack them into his bag after his workout. Thomas picked the briefs up; they were damp to the touch, drenched in perspiration. Thomas brought the briefs up to his face and took a long, deep sniff. The underwear smelled of Chase's body spray mixed with body odor. With his free hand, Thomas reached down and stroked his hardening member through his shorts.

On a rational level, Thomas knew his behavior was unacceptable. He was violating Chase with his actions, but he was so horny it was difficult to think straight. He was holding the used underwear of his unrequited crush, and felt an overwhelming urge to try them on. Just the thought of his cock wearing Chase's briefs made his erection leak precum. Thomas rationalized that there was no harm in quickly trying the briefs on; maybe giving in to his urges would alleviate some of his feelings towards Chase. He slid his shirt and shorts off, quickly followed by his own boxers, leaving the middle aged man naked. With his hands trembling in excitement, Thomas pulled Chase's briefs up his legs and over his rock hard dick.

Thomas admired his reflection in the locker room mirror, flexing his muscles. For a man nearing 50, he was still pretty damn sexy. His hairline had started to recede and it felt like there was more gray in his beard every day, but he was still handsome. His body had softened over the years and he now had a paunch where his abs had once been. His hard earned muscles were still there, though, with broad shoulders and thick, beefy pecs. The yellow briefs clung tightly to his massive member, leaving little to the imagination.

Thomas stroked himself through the briefs, panting heavily. He imagined Chase on his knees before him, with Thomas' hard cock between Chase's lips. It would be so hot to spray his cum all over Chase's cute, angelic face.

Thomas continued to feel himself, his body electric. His eyes were closed, still daydreaming about Chase, so he was unaware as his body started to shift. The dark brown hairs along his forearms lightened to blonde, slowly retracting back into his skin. If he'd been paying attention, he would have noticed that his forearms and biceps weren't as defined as they'd been moments before, his frame shedding muscle. His shoulders slimmed down as well, his body changing from broad and bulky to a more slender frame.

His beefy pecs deflated, leaving Thomas flat chested. Next, his muscle gut dissolved, sinking in to reveal a tight smooth stomach. The dark hairs covering his chest and stomach lightened, growing sparse. His stomach continued to tighten, leaving him with the faint definition of abs. Thomas' thick waist narrowed, followed by his thighs and quads slimming down. Thomas' round, muscled ass firmed up, losing some of its roundness. His short dark hair grew lighter and longer, curling into a messy hairstyle while his beard vanished. Thomas' square jaw rounded, his mature handsome face softening to a man in his early twenties.

Thomas let out a guttural grunt, his deep voice now softer and higher pitched. His entire body spasmed as his cock erupted, spurting a thick stream of cum into the briefs he was wearing. As he came, Thomas' massive member began to shrink, growing thinner and shorter with every spurt. His ballsack contracted, his testicles shriveling down in size. He was hit with a wave of dizziness as his memories altered, Coach Thomas' experiences and thoughts being overwritten by Chase's.

Chase opened his eyes, looking around the locker room in a daze. He couldn't remember where he was or how he'd gotten there, as if he'd just awoken from a dream. Chase glanced down at himself, blushing when he realized the briefs he was wearing were drenched in cum. Did he seriously just get off in the locker room?

Chase hurried to his locker, anxious to get dressed. He was distraught to find his locker was completely empty with no clothes anywhere in sight. Looking around the room, he noticed that Coach Thomas' locker was wide open. Without a better idea, Chase searched Thomas' locker for something he could wear. His Coach was a lot bigger than him, but Chase found a pair of black shorts and a navy blue compression shirt that somewhat fit him, even though they were baggy on his lean body.

Chase promised himself he'd return the clothes first thing in the morning after he'd had a chance to get some of his own clothes. Not wanting to spend any more time in the locker room for fear of Coach Thomas walking in and finding Chase wearing his clothes, Chase promptly fled from the locker room to make his way back home.

[mullermilkshake]

Part two <- Part three -> Part four

The floor is lava.

Things get hot and heavy before the eve of the next game. The players vote to stay.

<- Masterlist

Frontman!Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader x Frontman!Suguru Geto (Squid game au) Request by @vampir-queen Font used for title Tags- MINOR DNI, Smut, PIV sex, semi-public sex, readers a virgin, murder,misogyny,mentions of threesomes/ejaculation/creampie, voyeurism, lets be honest Satoru and Suguru have definitely fucked, canon-typical violence, blood gore, kind of torture

Suguru laid up in his bunk after the final vote for the third game, he should have been elated. Yet the niggling feeling he had didn't leave his mind entirely.

Where had Satoru gone, and where were you exactly? 

He hoped he’d get a chance to spend time with you before the next game. Your little innocent face making him think about settling down often.

Maybe he should get away from these games and find himself a wife who took care of him, and in turn, he would take care of her.

He was an accomplished lover and he could imagine the sort of faces she’d pull when he did his duties as husband. Then, he thought about your pretty face, and how that would look.

Suguru turned over and fiddled with the sheet on the bed in the deepest thought he’d been in since entering. He could admit that he sort of liked you, but more in a ‘like to fuck you and run’ sort of way.

You had debt in your name, and though it wasn’t by much, it was still an inconvenience to him financially.

He had overheard once that Sukuna was married. Suguru wondered who was dumb enough to go with a grumpy old man such as him and actually make it legal. Would she be as dramatic and twisted as he was? Or perhaps she would be the innocent type like you who would most probably do whatever she was told?

Who knew? If there was one thing Suguru learnt from the brief reflection, was that he just wanted to get laid, a quick fuck to tire him over and help him sleep.

Lights out was fast approaching, Satoru and you were still nowhere to be found. So he got up and asked to be taken to the toilets, to relieve himself before the night started. 

Suguru barely opened the door when an old man marched out, folding his arms and cursing to himself about respect or something.

Then he heard it. Moaning, excited huffing and natural slapping of wet, sweaty skin.

“You like that?” A loud smack echoed around the restroom.

“Yes- yeah, I really do- oh god.” A breathless woman, clearly fucking in one of the stalls.

Suguru wanted to pay it no mind, consciously fighting his inner monologue to give the guy a handshake for getting lucky. He took a piss and tried his best to ignore the distorted moans, the water from the sinks sort of blocking it out.

And when he turned to leave he heard it again. “This pussy is mine, you hear me? Fuck, I wish Suguru could see this-“

Hold on a second… is that Satoru?

He tiptoed over and got as close as he could before his shoes would be visible under the door. The idiot got lucky enough with someone, though Suguru had his hunches, because unlike Satoru he wasn’t an idiot.

Satoru had gone missing. You were missing too. It wasn’t difficult to piece it together.

Well, fuck.

“I’m… oh my- I’m going to-“ your moan hit his ears, that sweet innocent drawl turned filthy.

You were most probably thinking that tomorrow was going to be it, that tonight was the last night before death. Suguru simply wouldn’t allow it, he would make sure you got through it, because he wanted some of what Satoru was having.

But for now he wanted to ruin it, because he was a dick.

He knocked and waited for Satoru’s lazy retort. “Fuck off. This stall’s occupied, if you couldn’t hear.”

Suguru snorted and stood closer so that his shoes were visible now, then knocked again.

“Jesus - I’m trying’ to get laid here, can it wait?”

He heard you whispering to him, audible only just barely. Satoru responded again. “Look, I’d be happy for you to join, but the lady ain’t up for that so get out of here.”

“Ten minutes until light’s out, Satoru.” The bathroom stall went quiet when Suguru spoke for the first time.

“Shit, that’s you?” Satoru laughed, the sound of skin on skin sounded again, your little moans were stifled but still there. “Open the door will ya?”

“What? No, I don’t want people seeing me like this, I’m embarrassed already.”

Satoru cooed and whispered back, “Don’t worry, Suguru’s like a brother to me, it won’t be weird, I promise.”

Suguru could hear you were uncomfortable, but decided not to comment on it, not if it gave him material to keep burned in his memories. And what a sight too, you half naked, sat on Satoru’s cock like the most comfortable seat in the house.

Now, Suguru had seen Satoru’s cock plenty of times, just like he had seen his too. Plenty of threesomes when times got boring in between games in their little town. Plenty of pretty girls, and what’s a little quick fuck with a girl in between amongst friends?

“Hey man, you good?”

He nodded and folded his arms, standing out of the bathroom stall looking in. “Can’t complain, but I came looking for you when you disappeared.”

“Sorry, got caught up in this, can you give us five? I wont take much longer.” Satoru continued to fuck you, though you wouldn’t dare look in Suguru’s eyes.

There was nothing to be embarrassed about, the human body was beautiful, Satoru’s included and Suguru would never judge someone getting off in the midst of murder and bloodshed.

He wondered, would you take him into the toilets too? He could only dream.

“Yeah, just be back by lights out, or the masked guys will come looking.”

“You got it.” Satoru slammed the stall door shut and Suguru left the bathroom, wandering back to his bunk and the mindset to fight off the hard on he was currently battling with. He could just go and jerk off when the lights went out, tonight was safe enough before the special game tomorrow, but he wanted to savour it.

To savour you. 

If Satoru had you, then Suguru automatically wanted you, it was just a thing that happened between Satoru and Suguru regularly. Like brothers or bratty children that wanted everything the other had.

He thought about how Satoru would finish, would you be risky and let him come deep inside you so that you were dripping come light’s out? Or perhaps you were a prude and made him come all over your tits or ass so it dripped all over the tiled floor for the masked soldiers to clean up.

Oh… now that was disrespectful. Something Suguru admired.

He’d ask Satoru about it later.

Once in bed, Suguru closed his eyes and never bothered to wait for Satoru to come back, slipping into sleep quickly before the usual boring music woke everyone up for the impending game.

Which game would it be today? Hide and seek maybe… or what about the other one? Suguru’s favourite, a game he came up with actually.

Only one way to tell.

“Mornin’.” Satoru climbed off his bed and joined Suguru down by the stage, awaiting the square mask to accompany them inside. “Man, I slept like a baby.”

“I bet you did, you sly dog. How many attempts did it take to get her in that stall anyway?”

“None.”

Suguru did not expect that, not from you of all people. “None? You mean-”

“Yup.” Satoru was incredibly pleased with himself by the grin on his face. “She propositioned me, and she’s a freak too- she put it under the guise that she was scared of dying today so she wanted me to take her virginity.”

“She was a virgin?” Holy shit, Suguru missed a few chapters here. “Fuck, how did you get so lucky?”

Satoru shrugged and watched as the large cool double doors opened for the soldiers to enter. “What can I say? I’m just one hell of a dreamy guy.”

“The next game will start shortly-”

Suguru ignored the soldiers. A virgin, you were a fucking virgin- how were you a virgin? “Lucky? That’s a one in a million.”

Fuck.

“Morning you two.” You appeared out of nowhere, your player jacket zipped up all the way this morning. 

“You seemed chipper today.” Suguru was making polite conversation as they entered the set of staircases leading to the game hall.

“Um… I mean- well I got some sleep. So I think that’s why.” 

Yeah, not because you had your brains fucked out by his best friend. Satoru wasn’t even trying to hide it, much to your own shyness, looking around every so often with his arm around you blushing and twiddling your fingers.

“Oh right, yeah, I’m sure that’s why.”

As they approached the doors to the game room, Satoru leaned into Suguru away from your prying eyes. “Hey, how do you wanna do this today?”

“I’ll take her this time, it’s my turn.” 

Satoru pouted. “Aw, what? But I’m on a roll here.”

The audacity. “Yeah, and you got to fuck her last night, give me some slack.”

“You coulda joined if she was into it, but she said no, what could I do?”

While Suguru did agree that it was your choice, he hated the carrot being dangled that close to his face and he couldn’t dive in head first to try it.

When the doors opened, the room was littered with furniture and Suguru could tell immediately what it was. He invented it this way. Large sofas and table tops, chairs and bed frames set up in an almost surreal way, tilted and twisted in the ground into sections. Comfortable enough to hold two people at a time.

“Welcome to the third game. The game will be played in pairs. The game is, The Floor is Lava. All players will stand on the ground until the countdown of twenty seconds begins, then players will need to find somewhere off the ground to remain while the floor becomes lava. There will be six rounds. Those who fall off, or if there are more than two people in the specified safe area, the players will be eliminated.”

“Oh god…” You looked around too, clinging to Satoru’s arm like you were rubbing it in too.

Luckily for you, Suguru knew the way around this game like the back of his hand.

He squeezed between you and Satoru and took your hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe this round, I used to be the best at this game when I was a child, right Satoru?”

Satoru just grumbled. Suguru relished it.

“Really? You’d do that?”

“Of course.” Suguru smiled as sweetly as he could and waved Satoru off. “See you on the other side, Satoru.”

He grumbled and wandered off in the crowds with his hands in his pockets. You were indifferent to his departure and observed the forming pairs and hung close to Suguru.

“So how should we go about this?”

“I repeat, welcome to the third game. The game will be played in pairs. The game is-” 

Suguru took your hand and held it firmly. “Stay with me at all times, if we climb on something, I’ll make sure no one gets on with us. That’s how we do this. But relax and do as I tell you and we’ll be just fine.”

“Alright then.”

The first round began once everyone was in pairs, the creepy music played that Suguru chose himself and each pair walked around the room anticipating the countdown that went off at random intervals.

Twenty seconds ticking away and Suguru pulled you over to an upturned sofa stuck in the ground at an angle. The part of the lava being on the floor had been misleading, though true. The floor was out of bounds and totally uninhabitable when it counted down to zero.

No shooting in this game.

You held on and Suguru watched, the panels in the floor opening completely which caused several people to disappear. The drop down into the pit was a massive one, fully set with punji sticks for added measure for the depravity Suguru held.

Satoru enjoyed breaking people down to nothing, Suguru enjoyed eviscerating them, making them suffer under the guise of conserving ammunition. Sukuna had been amused by that, he seemed to enjoy the punji sticks and was adamant to get a camera installed to watch as the players landed on them.

All Suguru had to do was keep you on a solid piece of furniture to get through the next five rounds.

After the numbers of the deceased players were called, the floor reset itself and the music began again. You climbed off first and slipped your hands in his for the time being, watching the countdown clock to go off at any second. 

“You’re doing great, just keep focused, can you do that for me?”

You nodded and zipped your head around for a piece of furniture when the timer started. You ran over to a table this time, not the best when it was slippery, but it would do. Once you climbed on, another player came over and yanked you off of it by your hair.

Suguru’s eye twitched, it was part of the game and there was nothing against the rules. However he wasn’t about to die for some dumb loser who couldn’t  get their life in order. Not at all. So he yanked the man off and shoved him into another table close by. He kicked the other player he was with off, pulling you up in the process just as the timer clicked off.

The men fell to their deaths and two other select pieces of furniture disappeared into the pit when there were more than two people on it.

Should have listened to the rules, they aren’t exactly difficult.

As the numbers died down and the final round approached, people were getting more desperate, frightened, and Suguru grew more excited.

Seeing people fight each other for survival fascinated him, he also wanted to see how you would fare too at some point.

But after he got a chance to fuck you.

Look at you now, clung to a sofa for your life. You were just begging to be fucked again. 

And where better else to be holed up in the bathroom during the special game tonight?

Perseverance, and he’d get rewarded.

DISCLAIMER - I do not own any of the characters of Jujutsu Kaisen, or anything from Squid game. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!