#*loud audible crash*

[crambonn]

I like Tennant x Dikke but I can only imagine the dynamic being Dikke chasing Tennant around the suitcase with her flaming sword like those cartoon chase scenes after learning of her various crimes.

In addition, Dikke and A Knight would be besties probably.

[etheries1015]

He walks in on you touching yourself... (18+ Minors DNI)

General warnings: Gender-neutral reader. Can be read as established or non-established relationship, completely up to whatever your cup of tea is... (Reader for Azul and the tweels is pretty confident and daring. be warned.) Also not proof read.

TW: Touching himself while watching you masturbate, 'unbeknownst' to you. Being caught, mentions of heat.

Featuring: Lilia (separate) , Azul (separate), and the tweels (together...might be OOC. I don't write for them often wahhhh)

Lilia

It was obvious by the sounds of wetness and low whines ringing through the hall what was conspiring in your bedroom. Lilia had dropped by simply to play some games or to say hello, but was pleasantly greeted by the glorious sight before him after making his way down the hall towards your sleeping chambers. With the door cracked slightly, the red-eyed fae had clear few of your naked body sprawled on your bed, hands working at your groin with such vigor and excitement. Fluids ran down your thighs and a layer of sweat clearly coating your flushed body, telling him you have been at this for quite some time. With a raised eyebrow and a smirk quirking on the side of his lips, he could feel his erection pressing against the cloth of his pants practically begging to be freed.

He had little shame when it came to things of pleasure, he himself thoroughly enjoyed indulging in such activities when time permitted. It's a normal part of life, and although he felt mildly guilty for thinking such things when you were touching yourself unaware of his gaze...all reason left his mind the moment your lips uttered his name in a moan that would have been barely audible for a normal human to hear. His eyes open in surprise with his smirk turning into a dark grin, fangs poking out as he bit his lip and began to slowly unzip his trousers.

Freeing himself from his confines, he watched your fingers eagerly working themselves in your hole and the other teasing the outer parts of your body. He thought to himself how much he wanted to be inside you as his cock twitched, yet also wondering how he could just stand there and watch you get off, knowing it was his image in your mind while you so eagerly found your release. Would he ruin the mood if he opened the door and presented himself at that moment? Would you be embarrassed and no longer in the mood? He slowly began using a hand to pump his cock while he watched you through the crack of the door, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips and lustful eyes watching earnestly as you switch positions. You were so...thorough in the way you touched yourself, Lilia almost found himself envious at your own hands stroking attentively to your sensitive spots rather than him.

The second time you moaned his name, he broke in his resolve of keeping his endeavor behind your door a secret falter rather quickly. Removing his hand from his throbbing and flushed cock and lazily slipping his boxers back over his erection, Lilia allowed his presence to be heard as he creaked the door open. Hearing your movements stop suddenly and a small (and rather adorable) gasp escape your lips, the fae watched as you were quick to cover up with the sheets and face flushed a deep scarlet that only enhanced his desire to ruin you further.

"Now now~" Lilia purred, "You were so vocal before, moaning my name like an animal in heat..." He crawled onto the bed, leaning towards you as your gaze so obviously flickered from his piercing eyes to the tent in his boxers, taking note of his unzipped pants and wet spot that soaked through the cloth. His hand quickly grabbed your cheeks and lifted your gaze to his, lips crashing against yours.

"How about you moan for me again, my precious bat? Hmm? I wonder just how loud I could get you the mewl when rather than your fingers, it's my cock buried deep inside you..."

Azul

Azul had noticed something was awry when you weren't there to greet him immediately at the entrance of Ramshackle. The door had been unlocked, almost as if inviting him right in without a worry in the world. He often scolded you for such acts, being rather wary of intruders himself and understanding your disposition of being the sole human in the dorm, he was certain to give you a lecture as he often had.

Walking deeper into the dorm attempting to find you, he could smell something sweet and alluring, something that slowly yet almost simultaneously left his cheeks flushing a slight tint of pink and skin moist with heat at the touch. It was almost a sickening sweet smell- something that he was familiar with only by the definitions of the textbooks.

Heat. Someone was in heat, he could feel it affecting him as such. He took a gulp as his instincts left him wandering mindlessly to the source, hearing the feeble pants of a familiar voice and the sound of wet and sticky skin filling the air as he came closer to the source of the sickeningly sweet scent. Azul began trembling as if he were entering some sort of forbidden den in which he should not be entering. He noticed at the end of the hall a door open, wider than one may think should be. Curious and trembling with anticipation, the merman peaked his head through the rather wide crack of the door, stumbling upon a rather...interesting scene.

He couldn't help but let out an audible gasp, eyes widening before slapping a hand over his mouth and looking away. He pressed his back against the wall, looking down at the clear erection that poked at the cloth of his dress pants. It hurt almost, enough that Azul found himself almost unable to move with the itching need to unzip his pants and release himself of this burning sensation immediately. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see what he had just witnessed...the beloved prefect, someone who was well respected and known around the campus, legs wide on top of the blankets for anyone to see as your fingers buried deep inside your hole with your other hand twisting your hardened nipple. Your hair was a sweaty tangled mess, mouth open lips glistening with drool and lust.

Azul was not used to such erotic behaviors being so close and in eyeshot of him, much less affecting him the way you seemed to be. He couldn't help but guiltily open his eyes and glance again, watching through the cracked door and rubbing his legs uncomfortably. He let out a deep sigh as his hands moved with a mind of their own, dipping the inside of his pants and boxers in an attempt to stroke himself for some sort of release of the discomfort his hardened cock had caused. He watched you with his mouth ajar, his heart pounding so loud he almost feared you would hear it. Your moans began to become louder, almost as if...on purpose. Azul continued to rub his shaft with hesitant and trembling hands, before a moment passed and it seemed...like you two had made eye contact.

It was almost a split second, where he felt as if your gaze had locked onto his through the door. Yet you turned your attention back to your naked body, a sly smile crawling onto your lips. That split second cause his heart to drop straight into the pit of his stomach with guilt, yet at the same time such risk left his body trembling as he used one hand to muffle a high pitched whine that escaped his lips as he shamefully finished in his pants almost as quickly as he had begun. With legs that were shaking and a heart beating so rapid he felt it would pop out of his chest at any second, the merman pursed his lips and wiped his brow, finally finding the courage to use his legs to make a hasty exit...you were quick to interrupt his escape.

"Awwee...did you cum already, Azul?" He froze as you called his name, Azul letting out a yelp of surprise and hung his head low in almost shame.

"No need to be shy," You called out, "Come here. Let your prefect take care of our pretty little octopus..."

Jade + Floyd

You were a brazen soul, something that both Jade and Floyd would admire. Often times your brave endeavors left them astonished and intrigued all the same. The three of you were doing your weekly movie night, but the two could already tell something was different in your actions. The way you would rub your legs together and the sweet scent wafting off of your figure left the two side-eyeing each other with knowing intent. The movie was the last thing on your mind, for under the sheets the warmth that was leaving your bottom half aching with desire left your hands wandering beneath the blankets almost unable to hold back your urges.

"Are you alright?" Jade inquired, watching your focused face flush as you looked up at him with surprise at the question. He looked down at you almost knowingly, his typical smile leaving you unaware of the thoughts that were behind those eyes. You gave him a slight smile and a nod of your head, burying yourself deeper in the sheets and halting your hands from going beneath the cloth of your pants like you so desperately wanted to. A few moments of the movie going on, and you were vividly aware of where each of the twins were on both sides of you.

Floyd was brazenly wrapping an arm from behind your shoulders, while Jade sat with one of your legs intertwining with yours beneath the blanket. You found yourself throbbing more intensely below the pile of warm blankets, the heat becoming far more unbearable as your hands began to snake underneath the blankets and into your pants with no self-control and little regard for the two attractive men who were accompanying you. You pursed your lips and inched your fingers toward your groin, a needy sigh escaping your trembling lips as you began to slowly gratify yourself careful not to be loud or obvious. You couldn't help it, you were so desperately seeking release, and patience wasn't always one of your strong suits.

This went on for a mere minute before a hand landed on top of yours through the mountain of cloth that separated your skin from his hand, Jades face peering closer to yours with eyes glinting with mischief as his nose pressed against yours. "You're rather distracted," Jade hummed, eyes closing as he disregarded the movie that was still playing, "If I remove these blankets, what do you think we will see? Hmm? Something naughty?" you gave a shy nod in response, almost as if testing them to see if their blatant words would become materialized in something more. He glanced up to his brother, Floyd who had a wide toothy grin and a tilt of his head. He moved forward to take a whiff of you, his own cheeks becoming flushed a deep scarlet color while pulling you closer to his side.

"little Shrimpy is in heeatt..." Floyd sang, "I didn't know humans can get that, too. But it's sweet, real sweet," He purred. Jade moved away from you, inching the blanket off of your body to reveal yourself with legs held together and hands taken away from pleasuring your sensitive spot. At the same time, You could hear the unzipping of pants as they both released themselves from their pants, you watched in excitement and lustful eyes as the eels began doing as you had done, shamelessly and brazenly touching themselves with little regard for the place and company they were in. The twins encouraged you by each using a hand to grab a knee and spread your legs open, showing your arousal as your own hands twitched with anticipation and neediness. Shy at the whole endeavor, you found yourself hesitating despite their eagerness.

"Don't get shy now," Jade said, beginning to stroke himself and urging you to do the same.

"Yeah, You started this," Floyd pointed out, "let's have fun together...isn't that the whole point?"

"You must be trying so hard to hold back, aren't you? Let it all go...you're good at surprising us, and were so desperate a mere moment ago.... So go on, give us a show."

[zylev-blog]

Danny and Sam were enjoying a date out in Metropolis when it happened. Superman had been mind controlled again, and was taking hostages. Neither Danny or Sam were worried, and were amongst the only people not running for their lives. They just sat outside the cafe, sipping their coffee and eating their food. As the ground began to rumble, they simply picked their coffee cups and held them in their hands to not spill the coffee within.

“So then Tucker says, ‘not my pda!’” Danny finishes, laughing along with Sam.

“I swear, he loves that thing more than life!” Sam laughs.

That’s when they heard it. The sunlight outside got a shade darker, and Sam and Danny turned to see the outline of Superman hovering in front of them. They both glanced at him, then at each other.

With a loud sigh, Danny out down his coffee. “Can you move a little to the left, Superman? You’re blocking the sunlight.”

Without warning, Superman reached out and grabbed Sam, who was closer to him. Sam grunted out in surprise as she was lifted into the air by her neck. Danny looked unconcerned.

“Seriously?” Sam asked, gesturing at Superman. “You’re going to ruin my necklace.”

“I don’t think he’s worried about your necklace, babe.” Danny leaned against the table, watching the encounter.

“Well, he should be!” Sam exclaimed. “I paid good money for it!”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible. We can just buy you another one once he stops choking you.”

“It’s not really like he’s going to get anywhere.” Sam agreed.

Superman seemed to take offense to this. His grip on her neck tightened, and while Sam’s face did flush red, she wasn’t gasping for breath or having her neck snapped.

“You remember the other day when I said Black Canary could strangle me and I’d be happy about it?” Sam asked, her voice a little breathless.

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow, wondering where she as going with this.

“I like Superman choking me better. He would probably be better at it than a human.” Sam grinned at the Kryptonian.

“Shouldn’t he at least buy you dinner first?” He asked.

“You know, most boyfriends don’t talk so freely about their girlfriends being choked by other guys.” Sam pointed out.

“You’re right.” He agreed.

“But this is getting kinda weird. Superman, do you mind letting me go? This isn’t really working for me anymore.” Sam pointed to the ground.

A large crowd had started to gather around them. Some looked horrified, while others looked curious. Curious at Sam, who hadn’t died yet. Superman made no moves to remove his hand from her neck.

“Hey babe?” Sam asked.

“Yeah?” He took another sip of his coffee, completely calm.

“Can you record me beating up Superman so we can send it to your sister?”

“Why her?” He tilted his head.

“Little sister.” Sam clarified.

“Ohh. Yeah, sure, she’d love that.” He took a second and pulled his phone out—a latest WayneTech model. “Go for it.”

Sam wrapped her hand around Superman’s, and with an audible snap, broke his hand and pulled it off of her neck. Superman gasped in pain, but Sam wasn’t done yet. She proceeded to judo flip him and send him crashing to the Earth while she continued to hover in the air. She clapped her hands together and cracked her knuckles.

“This is going to be fun.” Sam grinned wickedly.

“You know, I could just touch his temple and cure him of the mind control.” He offered, but continued to record Sam.

“Don’t spoil my fun.” Sam flipped him off, then dove towards the ground. She kicked Superman in the nuts, then kneed him in the face hard enough to draw blood. She punched him a few more times until he fell unconscious.

Danny got up and stopped the recording. He walked over to his girlfriend and looked at the unconscious Superman. He bent over the man and pressed a finger to the man’s temple. Blue power briefly illuminated Superman’s skin, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“You’re going to cause trouble for us.” He chastised her.

“But you love it.” Sam took his hand. “Let’s go home.”

She flew into the air first, but Danny took another second to dig into his wallet, leaving a $20 bill on the table they were sitting at. He then flew into the air after Sam, chasing her all the way to Amity Park.

—————

Six months later, and Danny and Sam were on another outing in Gotham when they were interrupted by Batman. They pulled a chair up for him, and eventually the man took it. They ordered him a coffee and a bagel.

“So, what brings you here?” Danny asked casually.

“How did you defeat Superman?” Batman asked, straight to the point.

“Huh?” Sam asked. “When did we do that?”

“Six months ago.” Batman responded.

“Ohh, wait— remember the day we went to Metropolis?” He hummed.

“Oh. I already forgot about that. Superman’s not pressing charges, is he?” Sam asked. “I do have a good lawyer, he’s just an asshole to deal with.”

“No, he is not pressing charges.” Batman grunted.

“Then what’s this about?” He asked, tilting his head.

Without answering, Batman opened a box on his lap. At once, the kryptonite took effect of both Sam and Danny, making their skin turn green and to writhe in pain. Just as Danny was about to take the box from Batman by force, the man had closed the lid and tucked it away.

“I had my suspicions.” Batman said, as if that explained everything. “So how did two more Kryptonians land on Earth when the planet was destroyed thirty years ago?”

[pucksandpower]

Hail to the Chief

Lando Norris x First Daughter of the US!Reader

Summary: in which Lando doesn’t realize exactly who he took back to his hotel room after the Miami Grand Prix (and almost causes an international incident in the process)

You stir awake, blinking slowly while you take in the unfamiliar surroundings. The sheets rustle as you stretch, a pleased smile spreading across your face. Strong arms tighten around your waist, and you glance over your shoulder to see Lando gazing at you with warm eyes.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your bare shoulder.

You hum in contentment, snuggling back against his muscular chest. The sunlight streams in through the curtains, casting the hotel room in a cozy glow. Clothes are strewn across the floor, reminders of your passionate night together after meeting at the club.

Lando’s hand trails up your side, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. You shiver as his lips find the sensitive spot behind your ear, his breath hot.

“Ready for round two?” He whispers, his voice husky.

You twist in his arms to face him, locking your legs with his beneath the sheets. “I thought you’d never ask,” you purr, capturing his mouth in a deep kiss.

Just as things start heating up, loud banging erupts from the suite’s door. You break apart, startled. Lando frowns.

“Housekeeping?” You ask in confusion. More pounding follows, furious and insistent.

“I don’t think so,” Lando says warily.

Before either of you can react, the door crashes open, wood splintering. Men in dark suits pour into the suite, eyes hidden behind sunglasses. You yelp, grabbing the sheet to your chest. Lando scrambles upright, shock written across his handsome face.

“What the hell?” He exclaims.

The men converge on the bed in a swarm. Two sequester you, gently steering you away. The others tackle Lando, shoving him to the floor.

“Don’t fight it,” one orders as Lando struggles. He pins Lando’s arms behind his back.

“Get off me!” Lando shouts, face smushed into the carpet. “What is this?”

You know exactly what this is. Your security detail, come to collect you after last night’s escape. Panic rises in your throat.

“Please, don’t hurt him,” you beg the agents holding you.

Their grips remain firm but nonviolent. One talks rapidly into his earpiece, confirming the situation is handled. The apparent leader of the group stands over Lando, who glares up at him defiantly.

“Apologies for the intrusion,” the man states gruffly. “But you’re coming with us.”

Two agents haul Lando to his feet. He stands there in only his boxers, completely perplexed. You bite your lip, shot through with guilt. This is all because of you.

The agent in charge approaches you next, his gaze softening slightly. “Time to go home, ma’am. Your father is waiting.”

Lando’s head whips toward you so fast it must give him whiplash. “Ma’am? Your father?” His face goes ashen with dawning comprehension that there’s more to you than meets the eye. You wince, knowing there’s no way out of this now.

The agents begin herding you and Lando at a brisk pace through the ravaged hotel room door. Lando cranes his neck, trying to look at you.

“Y/N, what the hell is going on?” He hisses, stumbling along in the grip of two agents. “Who are you?”

You open your mouth, an apology on your lips. Before you can speak, the lead agent interjects sharply.

“She’s the First Daughter of the United States, son. And you’re in deep shit.”

Lando pales. “The President’s-”

“That’s right,” the man confirms. “And he’s mighty unhappy you took certain liberties with his little girl.”

Lando gulps audibly. Your heart twists with regret, seeing him so distraught. But the agents allow no further discussion, marching you both through the hotel’s back corridors. In minutes, you’re bundled into a black SUV with tinted windows. Tires screech as your motorcade peels away, sirens blaring.

You reach for Lando’s hand, relief flooding you when he doesn’t pull away. “I’m so sorry,” you whisper earnestly. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

He searches your face, brow furrowed. But his fingers tighten around yours. “It’s okay. Just tell me what’s going on. Please.”

You nod, knowing you owe him an explanation. But before you can speak, the SUV rolls to a stop on an empty airport tarmac. A sleek private plane awaits, engines rumbling. The agents hurry you both up the stairs into the lavish cabin.

Once settled inside, the lead agent fixes Lando with a solemn look. “We’re taking you straight to DC. The President wants to have a word with you both.”

Lando gulps again. You squeeze his hand, offering a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry. My dad’s just a little … overprotective sometimes.”

You nestle close to Lando as the jet taxis down the runway, hoping to provide some comfort. But he sits rigidly, face pale.

“Hey,” you say softly, “It’s going to be okay.”

Lando turns to you with wide, frightened eyes. “Okay? Your dad is the President! And I … I ...” He gestures helplessly at you, at a loss for words.

“Deflowered his only daughter?” You supply with a teasing grin.

Lando gulps loudly. “Oh god. He’s going to kill me, isn’t he? I’m a dead man. They’ll waterboard me or worse.”

You have to laugh at his flustered expression. “Relax, it won’t be that bad.”

“Easy for you to say,” Lando grumbles. “You’re not the one who’s gonna get shipped off to some CIA black site never to be heard from again.”

“Oh come on, he won’t go that far.”

Lando turns to you with wide, frightened eyes. “Are you sure? I’ve heard stories about shady government stuff. Secret torture chambers under the White House. Experimental poisons. Attack eagles trained to go for the jugular.”

You stare at him blankly for a moment before stating in a deadpan voice, “The eagles prefer to go for the liver actually. More tender that way.”

Lando lets out a whimper, his face draining of color. “Oh god, you’re serious?” He squeaks. “I knew it, I’m never getting out of this alive!”

You can’t keep a straight face any longer and burst out laughing. “Lando, relax! I’m just messing with you. There are no attack eagles or secret torture chambers.”

You take his hand and kiss his cheek reassuringly. “It’s going to be fine, I promise. My dad will probably just want to have a talk with you. That’s all.”

Lando still looks uncertain, but manages a shaky nod. “If you say so. But I think I’ll say a prayer or two just in case. Please tell me your old man doesn’t have a shotgun.”

“No shotguns,” you confirm, patting Lando’s knee. “But the Secret Service on the other hand ...”

Lando’s eyes widen in renewed fear. He clasps his hands together dramatically and looks upward. “Dear spirit of Ayrton Senna, please protect me from the wrath of the President and his highly trained special agents. I know not what awaits me in Washington, but I beg you to guard me from grievous bodily harm ...”

***

The plane touches down at Andrews Air Force Base, and you and Lando are swiftly escorted from the plane into an armored SUV. Lando fidgets nervously in his seat during the short drive through the capital, hands clasped tightly in his lap.

“It’s going to be okay,” you murmur, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. He attempts a weak smile in return.

All too soon, the SUV pulls up to the White House. You and Lando are ushered quickly inside by Secret Service agents, bypassing security checks. As you walk briskly through the historic halls, Lando gapes at the lavish architecture and priceless artwork adorning the walls.

“This is unreal,” he whispers. You give his hand an encouraging squeeze.

At last you arrive outside the Oval Office. The agents pause, stone-faced, before opening the tall wooden doors. Your stomach flip-flops with nerves as you enter behind them.

There, seated at the Resolute Desk, is your father — the President of the United States. He rises as you approach, his face impassive. You offer a timid smile.

“Hi, Daddy.”

Your father’s stern expression instantly melts. He circles the desk and pulls you into a warm embrace.

“There’s my little girl,” he murmurs, kissing the top of your head. “You had me so worried.”

Guilt gnaws at you. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t you worry about that now. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He pauses, then adds, “Though if you really wanted an F1 driver, why couldn’t it have been that nice American boy Logan Sargeant? Now there’s an upstanding young patriot.”

Your father holds you by the shoulders, surveying you with concern. Seeing that you’re unharmed, his gaze shifts to Lando hovering awkwardly behind you. Your father’s eyes harden, his jaw setting. Lando audibly gulps.

Stepping between them, you take a deep breath. “Daddy, this is Lando. The man I was with last night.”

You lace your fingers through Lando’s in a show of solidarity. Your father’s piercing stare makes him fidget.

“Lando Norris,” your father states coldly. “Formula 1 driver. British national. Born and raised in Bristol, England. Competes for McLaren Racing. Net worth of $30 million USD. Had unauthorized relations with my daughter approximately ...” He glances at his watch, “ ... twelve hours ago.”

Lando pales under your father’s recitation of his biography and recent activities. You shoot your dad a pleading look.

“Go easy on him, okay?”

Your father’s face softens slightly at your words. He beckons for Lando to step forward.

“Son, you have exactly one minute to explain yourself before I set the full force of the United States government on you for defiling my princess. And believe me when I say there are dark places in this world where no one will ever find you again.”

Lando looks ready to pass out. He glances at you in panic, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. You give his hand an encouraging squeeze, signaling for him to speak.

“I-I’m so sorry, Mr. President,” Lando stammers. “Obviously I didn’t know who Y/N was when we met last night. But I care about her a lot, truly, and I would never intentionally do anything to hurt her. I have nothing but respect for her and for you, sir.���

He straightens his shoulders, gaining confidence. “I understand I made a mistake, and I take full responsibility. But I promise, my intentions are honorable. If you’ll permit it, I’d like to properly court Y/N with your blessing.”

Your father studies Lando for a long moment, face unreadable. The tension in the room is stifling. Finally, he cracks a wry smile.

“Very well. You’ve got spunk, kid, I’ll give you that. And clearly my daughter sees something in you worth all this trouble. But understand this—” Your father leans in, eyes flashing. “You’ve got one shot to prove yourself worthy of her. Mess it up, and you’ll be scrubbing toilets in Guantanamo Bay for the rest of your short, miserable life. Are we clear?”

Lando audibly gulps again. “C-crystal clear, sir.”

“Good.” Your father claps Lando on the shoulder firmly enough to make him wince. Then he turns to you, expression softening.

“I’m not happy you were out all night without security, young lady. You’ll be grounded for two weeks. No cell phone, no social media, and no racing events.” You open your mouth to protest, but your father silences you with a raised hand. “However, in light of the circumstances, we’ll reduce it to one week. Consider yourself lucky.”

You sigh but don’t argue. Your father pulls you in for one more hug. “I’m glad you’re alright, sweetpea. Now run along back to the residence while I have a few more words with your new suitor here.”

You give Lando an encouraging smile as you exit the Oval Office. The last thing you see before the door shuts is your father clapping a hand on Lando’s shoulder again, steering him toward the Roosevelt Desk. “Have a seat, son. We’ve got lots to discuss ...”

Lando perches anxiously on the edge of the chair across from your father at the Roosevelt Desk.

“First things first,” your dad begins. “I expect you to treat my daughter with the utmost respect. No staying out all night and no unsavory activities. You will be a gentleman at all times. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Lando says quickly.

“Second, you are not to distract her from her studies. Y/N is on track to graduate top of her class at Georgetown and I won’t have anyone jeopardizing that.”

Lando nods. “Of course not, her education comes first.”

“Good,” your father says gruffly. “Third rule: you will check in with me weekly to provide updates on where you are taking her and what you are doing. And know that my security team will be monitoring your activities closely as well.”

Gulping, Lando agrees to the terms. Your father continues laying down the law for several more minutes, covering everything from curfews to social media posts to PDA.

“And if at any point I decide you are no longer an appropriate suitor for my daughter, you will end the relationship immediately and without argument. Is that clear?”

“Crystal clear, Mr. President,” Lando says quickly. “You have my word I intend to do right by Y/N.”

Your father studies him a moment longer before cracking a wry smile. “Well, you’ve got guts at least, son. Most boys your age would’ve wet themselves by now. I suppose I can give you a chance. But remember, one toe out of line and ...”

He makes a slicing motion across his throat. Lando audibly gulps.

“Yes sir! I understand completely.”

“Good man,” your father says, standing to clap Lando on the back. “Now let’s get you out of here before you really do pass out ...”

***

After the whirlwind events of the day, Lando is given a plush guest suite in the White House residence to spend the night. He collapses onto the king-sized four poster bed, emotionally exhausted.

Just this morning he woke up with the President’s daughter in his arms. Now he’s been threatened within an inch of his life by the leader of the free world. What a wild rollercoaster of a day.

A soft knock at the door makes Lando jump. Before he can respond, you slip inside, closing the door quietly behind you.

“Y/N!” Lando exclaims in a loud whisper. “What are you doing here?”

You smile mischievously, walking over to sit beside him on the bed. “What does it look like? I missed you.”

Lando’s eyes dart around the room, half expecting your father to burst out of the closet. “Are you crazy? If we get caught together your dad will annihilate me!”

You wave a hand dismissively. “Oh relax, no one patrols the residential wing’s hallways at night. We’re completely alone.” Leaning in, you brush your lips teasingly along his jaw. “Now where were we this morning before we were so rudely interrupted?”

Lando can’t restrain a small groan of desire, but retains the presence of mind to gently halt your roaming hands. “Y/N, we can’t. You heard your father’s rules.”

You make a face. “Come on, live a little! He won’t know as long as we’re discreet.”

Biting his lip, Lando wavers. Having you here, so warm and willing in his arms, is incredibly tempting. And technically the President had only forbidden unauthorized nighttime activities outside of the White House ...

Sensing his hesitation, you straddle his lap and cup his face in your hands. “I want this, Lando,” you murmur sincerely before kissing him deeply.

That does it. Lando kisses you back hungrily, pulling you flush against him. You let out a delighted hum, fingers spearing into his curls. Within moments you’re both stripped down to your underwear, hands greedily exploring.

But as things heat up, Lando abruptly breaks the kiss, eyes wide. “Did you hear that?” He whispers.

You still, listening closely. “Hear what?”

“I thought I heard something in the hall.”

You grin teasingly. “You’re being paranoid.” But you indulge him and climb off so he can check, wrapping yourself in a sheet.

Lando cracks the door open slowly, peering out. Seeing nothing, he lets out a breath and returns to the bed.

“Okay, false alarm. Now, where were-”

His words cut off with a yelp as you pounce, pinning him beneath you. Laughing, you silence any further protest with your lips. Soon Lando is kissing you fiercely once more, hands roaming your body.

Just as he’s unclasping your bra, Lando breaks the kiss again. “Wait, did you lock the door?”

You huff in feigned annoyance. “Of course I did!”

But Lando is already slithering out from under you to double check. You flop back against the pillows with a sigh.

“Lando, would you relax? No one is coming.” You give him your best pleading look. “Now come back to bed and finish what you started, handsome.”

That seems to do the trick. With one final glance at the locked door, Lando grins and rejoins you. His warm hands and mouth resume their sensual exploration.

You’re both completely lost in each other when suddenly the door handle rattles.

“Someone’s coming!” Lando whispers in alarm.

He hurriedly gathers up the sheets around you just as the door swings open to reveal a Secret Service agent.

“Oh, uh, hello?” Lando says, trying to sound casual despite being shirtless and flushed.

You hold perfectly still under the sheet, heart hammering.

The agent surveys the room suspiciously. “Thought I heard voices. Everything alright in here, Mr. Norris?”

“Yep, all good!” Lando says with forced cheer. “Just chatting on the phone. With my … mum. In England. Time zones, you know.”

The agent clearly doesn’t seem convinced, his gaze raking over the disheveled bed. But after a long pause he simply says “Very well. Have a good night, sir.”

Lando sighs in relief as the door shuts. After a moment, you peek your head out from under the sheet.

“That was close!”

Lando flops back onto the bed, laughing. “No kidding! I thought we were busted for sure.”

Tilting his chin up, you give Lando a slow, sensual kiss. “Now then, I believe you still have some unfinished business to attend to, Mr. Norris ...”

Lando searches your face then grins sheepishly, pulling you into his arms. “You’re absolutely incorrigible. Come here.”

***

For your first official date night, Lando takes you out for dinner in The Inn at Little Washington. You emerge from your room in a stunning silky dress, hair and makeup impeccable.

Lando’s eyes widen and he lets out an appreciative whistle. “Wow. You look incredible.”

He pulls you in for a quick kiss, careful not to smudge your lipstick. Just then, your Secret Service detail emerges, dressed in their standard crisp black suits and sunglasses.

The lead agent addresses Lando gruffly. “Alright, here’s the deal. We’ll be accompanying you tonight, but our goal is to stay invisible. Don’t acknowledge us, don’t make eye contact, just pretend we’re not there.”

Lando nods, looking uncertain. With their massive builds and conspicuous attire, ignoring the agents doesn’t seem likely. But he decides to just go with it.

At the restaurant, the hostess seats you and Lando at a cozy table for two. As promised, your detail blends into the background, taking up positions around the dining room. Lando tries his best not to glance nervously at the two imposing figures lurking near the entrance.

After you order, Lando reaches across the table to take your hand. “You really do look stunning tonight,” he says softly. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

You blush prettily. “Smooth talker. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Lando grins. Just then, the sommelier arrives to present the wine list. As he’s rattling off descriptions of merlots and cabernets, you notice Lando’s gaze drift over the sommelier’s shoulder to where two of your agents are posted nearby. You squeeze Lando’s hand to get his attention back.

“Uh, sorry, what was that last one?” Lando asks, snapping his focus back to the confused sommelier.

Once you’ve ordered wine and appetizers, the conversation flows smoothly. Lando has almost forgotten about your not-so-invisible security until the entrees arrive. The waiter sets down your plates with a flourish.

As he pivots to leave, he collides directly with the broad chest of one of your agents, nearly upending the tray of food.

“Oh! Pardon me, sir,” the waiter stammers. The agent, true to his training, ignores the flustered waiter and remains statue-still.

Lando has to fake a coughing fit to disguise his laugh. You cover your mouth delicately, eyes sparkling with amusement. So much for blending seamlessly into the environment.

As dinner progresses, Lando finds his gaze drawn again and again to your hulking shadows scattered around the restaurant. He watches one agent accidentally block a busboy trying to clear a nearby table. Another nearly takes out a hovering food runner as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. It’s like seeing massive, well-dressed bulls in a china shop.

When the check comes, Lando signs quickly then leans toward you conspiratorially. “Have I mentioned how incredibly normal this dinner has been? Just two totally regular people on a date without armed guards watching our every move.”

You have to smother your giggles behind your hand. “Oh yes, completely low-key. I forgot the agents were even here!”

As you exit the restaurant hand-in-hand, Lando murmurs under his breath, “Nothing to see here, just a guy and his girlfriend trailed by four gigantic men in black ...”

You dissolve into laughter, drawing confused looks from passersby. Lando grins and pulls you close. Invisible security or not, it was a perfect first official date. And as your convoy of not-so-covert agents escorts you safely home, he’s already planning many more to come.

***

A few months later, you join Lando at Circuit of the Americas in Austin for the United States Grand Prix. As you walk hand-in-hand through the paddock, Lando smiles and waves at the fans calling his name from behind the fences.

Up ahead, a large group of people round the corner. Their eyes light up when they see you both.

“Here we go,” Lando murmurs, dropping your hand to sign autographs and pose for selfies.

But as the group draws near, you realize they aren’t fans — it’s the Governor of Texas and his entourage.

“Y/N!” the Governor booms jovially, arms open wide. Behind him are several legislators, donors, and a gaggle of reporters. “What a wonderful surprise!”

He engulfs you in a bear hug before holding you at arm’s length. “Don’t you look lovely! How’s your father doing? I just spoke to him last week about the education bill.”

Lando stands by awkwardly as you’re enveloped into the group. You glance at him apologetically while greeting each person.

“Daddy’s doing well, thanks for asking! Keeping busy as always.”

“I’ll bet!” the Governor chuckles. He turns to holler at one of his aides. “Hey Jim, tell the White House we said hello to his beautiful daughter, would ya?”

The reporters surge forward eagerly, microphones extended. “Y/N, what brings you to Austin this weekend?”

You gesture to Lando. “I’m here supporting my boyfriend, Lando. He’s racing for McLaren.”

All eyes turn to Lando curiously. Flashing cameras make him squint. The Governor grabs his hand in an enthusiastic shake.

“Lando, eh? Good to meet you!” Without waiting for a response, he turns back to you. “Y/N, your father briefed me on the proposals to increase Pell Grant funding. Seems like an excellent plan ...”

As the Governor launches into policy discussion, Lando shifts awkwardly on his feet. You keep one eye on him while politely engaging with each person. More politicians approach to lobby you about your dad’s agenda.

“Your father’s infrastructure bill was brilliant!” One praises. “Make sure to tell him he’s got my full support.”

You smile. “I’ll let him know. I know he appreciates your vote.”

One donor pipes up excitedly. “I’ll be holding a high-dollar fundraiser next month in Dallas. Your attendance would mean so much ...”

You tactfully deflect, making no commitments. The reporters pepper you with questions about your studies at Georgetown and future political aspirations. You give diplomatic answers about focusing on the present while the Governor boasts of your potential.

“Y/N here is gonna be President herself one day!” He winks conspiratorially. “I’m calling it now, folks.”

Mercifully, an aide reminds the Governor he’s late for a meeting. As the group prepares to move on, he pumps your hand enthusiastically.

“It was fantastic to see you, Y/N. Tell your old man I said hello! Keep up the good work in school.” He spares a departing nod at Lando. “Nice meeting you, son.”

And with that, the entourage sweeps away. You let out a breath, turning to Lando. “I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t expect the Governor to be here.”

But Lando just stares after the departing politicians, looking slightly stunned. “I mean … I knew your dad was the President. But I guess it didn’t totally sink in until just now ...”

He runs a hand through his curls. “It’s like you’re royalty or something. Paparazzi, donors, governors … you’re a big deal, Y/N.”

You bite your lip. “Not by choice. I know the attention is weird, but I promise I’m still just me.” You take his hand, gazing at him earnestly. “None of those people determine our relationship. Only we do.”

Lando searches your face, then smiles. “You’re right. It’s just … surreal sometimes. But it doesn’t change how I feel or that I want to make this work.”

He squeezes your hand. You grin, feeling a rush of affection. Standing on tiptoe, you give him a lingering kiss. Around you, cameras flash as photographers snap the moment.

Lando chuckles as you break apart. “I’d better get used to that too, huh?”

“Comes with the territory,” you laugh. Taking his arm, you continue through the paddock. “Now come on. Let’s go watch qualifying before more politicians ambush us!”

***

The cheers of the crowd are deafening as Lando crosses the finish line in first place, finally claiming his first ever Formula 1 victory. You’re jumping up and down in the McLaren garage, absolutely elated for your boyfriend.

In the frenzy of celebrations after the race, you and Lando manage to slip away from the crowds and teams back to his hotel suite to continue the festivities in private. As soon as the door shuts behind you, Lando whoops and sweeps you up in his arms, spinning you around.

“I did it, baby! I finally did it!”

You grin, happiness bubbling up inside you. “I’m so proud of you! I knew this day would come.”

Setting you down, Lando crashes his lips to yours in a fierce, passionate kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, feeling like you might burst from joy.

Eventually you break apart, both flushed and beaming. Lando brushes his thumb over your cheek tenderly.

“I couldn’t have done this without your support, Y/N. You being here to share this means everything to me.”

You place your hand over his heart. “Wild horses couldn’t have kept me away. I’ll always be your biggest fan.”

Lando’s eyes darken and he pulls you in for another searing kiss. Your heartbeat quickens as his hands trail down your back, fumbling for the zipper on your dress. Blindly you shuffle toward the bed, leaving a trail of clothes behind you.

Things are just starting to really heat up when suddenly the hotel room door bursts open. Your Secret Service detail comes pouring in, guns drawn.

“HANDS IN THE AIR!” An agent bellows. “Ma’am, are you alright?”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Lando yelps, grabbing frantically for a sheet to cover you both. “She’s fine! We’re just … celebrating!”

The agents quickly assess the situation. Their leader clears his throat, lowering his weapon.

“Apologies for the intrusion. Your smart watch alerted us to an elevated heart rate indicating potential distress. We believed you were in danger.”

You close your eyes, mortified heat flooding your cheeks. “Oh my god. It’s fine, everything’s fine! You all can go now.”

The agents shuffle out, mumbling apologies. Lando collapses back on the bed, absolutely hysterical with laughter. You smack his shoulder, which only makes him laugh harder.

“It’s not funny!” You exclaim, covering your flaming face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Lando gasps through his giggles. “It’s just — their faces! And then when they saw us ...” He dissolves into another fit.

Despite your embarrassment, his laughter proves contagious. Soon you’re both wiping away tears, sides aching.

Finally calming down, Lando strokes your hair back from your face affectionately. “Well, that’s one way to kill the mood.”

You groan, rolling your eyes. “No kidding. We desperately need to tweak the sensitivity on this watch.”

“Maybe we could take it off temporarily?” Lando suggests with a playful waggle of his eyebrows.

You shake your head. “I wish, but this watch has saved my life before. I can’t take it off.”

Lando’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really? What happened?”

You absently toy with the watch on your wrist. “About two years ago I was out shopping and some guys tried to grab me. If I hadn’t been wearing this watch with its location tracker, my detail might not have found me in time.”

You shudder at the memory. Lando takes your hand, face filled with concern.

“That’s awful, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

You offer a reassuring smile. “It worked out okay. So as annoying as it can be, it’s staying on 24/7 for my safety.”

Lando nods seriously. “Of course. I would never want to jeopardize your security just for some fun.” He kisses your temple. “I guess we’ll just have to get creative when it comes to celebrating in private from now on.”

You grin mischievously. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

***

“So Lando, I gotta ask — how are things going with Y/N?” Max Fewtrell asks with a smirk through the webcam.

You feel your cheeks flush from where you’re sitting on the couch off-camera as Lando grins sheepishly. “Things are going great, thanks for asking.”

The chat explodes with messages.

Is she there?

We want to meet her!

Max chuckles at the chat’s reaction. “Sounds like the fans want you to bring Y/N on stream, what do you think?”

Lando looks over at you. “I mean, if you’re up for it they’d love to meet you.”

You hesitate, suddenly feeling shy at the thought of going on Lando’s stream. But the encouraging look on his face gives you courage. “I guess I can say a quick hello,” you say, walking over.

As you enter the frame, Max suddenly starts blasting “Hail to the Chief,” causing you to jump.

“Oh my god Max, really?” You groan, though you can’t help but laugh.

“I had to!” Max cackles. “The First Daughter deserves a proper entrance.”

Lando playfully rolls his eyes and pulls you into his lap. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the memes.”

You smile, leaning into Lando as you glance at the rapidly moving chat. Most of the messages are incredibly positive — welcoming you and talking about what a cute couple you and Lando are.

“Hi everyone!” You say with a small wave. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you all.”

“She’s just a normal girl who happens to have the most powerful man in the world wrapped around her finger,” Lando jokes, kissing your temple.

You grin up at him then turn back to the webcam. “I guess our relationship can look pretty weird from the outside. But Lando makes me really happy, and I hope we have your support.”

The chat floods with heart emotes and messages gushing about young love.

Max smiles. “You two are adorable. But inquiring minds want to know — how did you meet?”

You and Lando share a knowing look. “Well...” he draws out. “We actually met in Miami during the Grand Prix last year.”

“Oooh an international romance!” Max teases.

You poke Lando playfully in the side. “What he’s leaving out is that we met at a club. I was there on a rare night out and he came over to ask me to dance.”

“Is that so?” Max grins.

“Hey now, no need for the details,” Lando says, tickling your sides as you squirm and laugh.

The chat is begging for the full story, so you decide to give it to them. “Okay, okay! So we danced all night and really hit it off. Then the next morning ...”

You trail off, trying not to giggle as Lando shakes his head. “Do we really need to tell them about the next morning?”

Yes! The chat unanimously agrees.

You pat Lando’s cheek. “It’s okay honey, I’ll protect you from the memes this time.”

Clearing your throat, you continue. “So the next morning, after a night of … fun, my secret service detail may have burst into Lando’s hotel room to bring me back home.”

Max bursts out laughing. “No way! Lando, you absolute madman.”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Lando exclaims, though he’s laughing too. “How was I supposed to know who she was?”

Max snorts. “I mean, who doesn’t recognize America’s Sweetheart?”

Lando smirks. “I’m British! And I was a bit distracted by her other, uh, assets.”

“Lando!” You swat his chest playfully as he cracks up, the chat going crazy over his flirtatious teasing.

“Anyway,” you go on. “I had to explain to my security team that I was fine and we were just hanging out. But of course they still dragged both of us back to the White House so Lando could meet my father.”

Max is wheezing. “No way, they took you to meet the President after an one night stand?”

Lando covers his reddening face. “It was mortifying. I was stumbling around half asleep still in last night’s clothes, reeking of vodka and bad decisions.”

You kiss his cheek, patting his leg consolingly. “Aww babe, you did great. My dad said he admired your composure given the circumstances.”

Lando peeks out from behind his hands. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirm. “He could tell how much you cared about me and that you weren’t just fooling around. And obviously he was right, since here we are a year later and happier than ever.”

Lando smiles softly, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. “Yeah, here we are.”

The chat has switched to mostly heart eye and aww emojis, gushing about you two being relationship goals.

You turn back to the camera a bit bashfully. “So yeah, that’s the story of how we met. Not exactly a fairytale beginning but ...”

You trail off as Lando reaches out to tilt your chin towards him, looking into your eyes earnestly. “It was the start of my fairytale,” he says softly.

Your heart flutters at his words. You lean in and kiss him tenderly. For a moment, it feels like you and Lando are the only two people in the world.

When you finally break apart, you rest your forehead against his. “You’re my fairytale too,” you whisper.

Lando’s eyes are full of love and wonder, as if he can’t believe how lucky he is to have found you.

“Awww!” Max interrupts your intimate moment. “You two are just too cute. The chat is loving this!”

You glance over to see the chat flooded with positive messages about your relationship. Smiling shyly, you take Lando’s hand and lace your fingers together.

“I’d say this turned out to be a pretty good stream, wouldn’t you?” Lando asks, grinning.

You laugh, giving his hand a squeeze. “Definitely one of your best.”

[erwinsvow]

i can see the trio dangerously driving to or from a party. they’re speeding down the empty road, the new future album blasting from the speakers of topper’s jeep. kelce is up front, and reader and rafe are in the back. reader is a bit drunk and rafe is high out of his mind and can’t control his feelings for reader so he starts getting touchy with her, maybe trying to kiss her. since you’re just starting this au out, i’m curious to know how do you think reader would react and if she did kiss him back, how would topper and kelce react?

the last line of coke was a mistake—it made him lose the last bits of his self control. it was clear that he was way too high to drive, even though it seemed like rafe always drove clear-headed or not, so you were assigned babysitting duty in the back.

top was on a rager today, even worse than his usual ones. whenever him and sarah started fighting, he got like this, currently blasting some future song at the highest volume possible, speeding through the streets of kildare. you would be a little scared, except kelce is driving while topper nurses yet another beer in the passenger seat. you're deliciously drunk, still gone from the drinks you had at the party, not a care in the world except making sure rafe doesn't keel over in the back.

you mumble along the words to the song, pretty much engraved in your memory from how often it was played. you don't know how it happens, your fingers just find rafe's hair, brushing it out of his face while he talks to top and kelce in the front, amped up and loud, acting as crazy as you've ever seen him. you giggle, continuing your motions.

topper begins some rant about his girlfriend, or rather, his ex, while rafe locks eyes with you. it's hard to keep eye contact, looking away the second rafe shuts up and focuses on you completely. you're never shy around them but this might be the closest you've gotten.

you feel rafe's hands on your exposed thighs, your tiny skirt ridden up in the seat. his touch feels good, in your drunken state you don't think there's anything wrong with it. he's just being friendly, being touchy, being rafe. he strokes the soft skin of your legs, running his hands down to your ankles, while you shift around in the back. all it would take is one look from the boys in the front to see that something's going on back here.

"rafe, listen to top he's talkin-"

"shh," rafe says, noise completely overlooked by the others, nothing audible except the thump of the bass. he takes your face into his hand, leaning in close. "shut up for a second." he kisses you, briefly, barely, lips touching together and your eyes fluttering shut, when kelce slams on the brakes. the two of you fly apart, your heart thudding for an entirely different reason now.

"what the fuck, kelce, my brakes-" top starts.

"it was a deer, you idiot. you guys okay?" he turns to look at you and rafe in the back, your face flushed and rafe's hands still on your legs.

"fine," rafe mumbles. the four of you head back to tannyhill, you crashing on rafe's bed like always while top and kelce take the guest room down the ball. the two of you are out before you can bring it up, but rafe doesn't forget about it.

in the morning, you stretch, the oversized shirt of his you'd put on for the night riding up. rafe doesn't wait another minute.

"so, about last night. in the car." he looks at you, waiting for your response.

"oh, rafe, don't apologize. it's okay. we were both pretty gone."

"m'not apologizin', i-"

"and i mean, who hasn't been there once or twice-"

"once or twice?"

"and i kissed kelce that one time, so i guess-"

"you kissed kelce?" rafe looks at you like you've committed a crime.

"what? it was new years."

"where the hell was i?"

"i don't know, probably sucking some girl's face off. i was busy making out with kelce, remember?" you laugh, getting up and looking for your clothes. rafe lays back down on the bed, deciding he's never leaving you alone with kelce ever again.

[xanaxspritz]

【"ＧＡＭＥ　ＳＥＴ　ＭＡＴＣＨ!"】

an: i've been cooking up this for a while. this is 100% inspired by challengers and i took my time with it. i hope y'all enjoy!!! :D

cw: porn without plot, m/m/f threesome, afab!reader, spitroasting, cum swallowing, creampies, throatfucking, cunniligus, gojo talking you through it, satosugo, slight overstimulation, college athletes!au

word count: 1.2k

"'toru, this is a dumb idea."

"first one to get her number gets to keep her."

"that's if she even comes."

the boys lay in their beds. satoru laying upside down scrolling through his phone, and suguru lounging, cigarette in hand. asking the hottest girl in D1 tennis to come to their hotel room was a delusional, but bold move. you didn't seem impressed by the invitation, or the obvious flirting that the two were laying heavy on you. but satoru insisted on asking away and here they are, staying up late, an hour past the time that was agreed upon.

"satoru, i'm getting tired," suguru complains.

"you're free to go to sleep. i didn't want to share anyways," he smirks.

a soft knock, rapping three times rings throughout the room. the two exchange glances, and then rush to open the door.

suguru greets you first, smooth and suave, asking about your day and brings you inside the room. satoru follows, hurriedly tossing the scattered clothes on the floor into the closet. you sit on one of the beds, satoru and suguru standing awkwardly above you.

"well," you began. "you invited me over for a reason."

they stare at you intensely for a beat, then immediately sit themselves on either side of you.

"is this a thing you guys do often?" you ask with amusement.

"no," they both say in unison.

satoru cleared his throat., "we just thought..."

"that you were really cute" suguru finished.

you smiled. having two hot guys begging to fuck you was not on your bucket list. but here you were, sandwiched between the top two male players in D1 tennis.

the sexual tension was thick and slightly awkward. they were clearly waiting for you to make a move first.

you start with suguru, placing a small peck on his soft lips, tasting a hint of tobacco. he kisses back, but with more force. satoru watches before nibbling on your neck, leaving kisses up and down your collarbone. you turned your attention to satoru to kiss him. he meets your lips passionately, hungrily swirling his tongue around yours. backing into suguru's arms you the stiff bulge forming in his pants, hands roaming underneath your shirt.

you pulled away, leaving the two to look at you as if you were a piece of delicious cake waiting to be eaten. you stared back.

"kiss," you say.

they hesitate for a moment, before their lips crash into one other's. it was evident enough from the kissed that they really liked each other. you sat back and enjoyed the view for a moment before joining in.

things got hot and heavy quick. not even 5 minutes later you were on your back, panties off, with suguru between your legs and satoru making love to your tits.

"I've been waiting so long for this," suguru whispered into your thighs, before diving into your slick arousal, his finger lazily circling your clit, sending a shiver down your entire body. gojo nibbled and licked on each on of your erect nubs, pulling off of each tit with a loud audible pop.

"ah-god! that feels so good," you cried.

"just like that, baby girl," breathed satoru. "he''s good at that isn't?" nudging his heads towards suguru. "but I've been dying to eat that sweet little pussy, my turn."

suguru looked up in annoyance, reluctancy switching places with satoru. you pawed at suguru's boxers impatiently, eager to get his cock out.

it was big (no surprise there) with a slight curve to the left. you spat on your hand before working his shaft that was hanging above your face, suckling on each testicle hovering over you. suguru moaned, putting his cock into your warm plush mouth, groaning at the way his your lips wrapped around his cock.

while suguru was much more sensual, satoru lapped at your pussy like he was dying of thirst. his tongue flicked your now swollen and used clit, his long, slender fingers pumping in and out of your walls.

you whimpered around suguru's dick which in turn made him fuck your face harder. "she has an amazing mouth, 'toru," said suguru.

"oh? well these lips are really good too," replied satoru muffled in your pussy. you start to squirm from overstimulation of your tired-out clit, but satoru firmly held down your thighs "ah ah don't runaway from me now baby girl. " eyes rolled back in complete bliss, you wondered if it was possible to die of too many orgasms within 24 hours.

"I think she's dying to get fucked," smirked surguru.

"I call dibs. i texted her first."

"no, i definitely wanted her first. you just like to bandwagon."

"not true!"

you giggled and fought to roll your eyes. how typical for them to bicker while you were getting ravaged during a threesome. you flipped yourself over from your back, sliding suguru's cock out of your mouth. you looked up at him with wide doe eyes.

"fuck me please?" you asked. "I kissed you first, its only fair."

suguru chuckled, kissing your forehead, "don't worry 'toru, you'll get turn soon."

satoru pouted between your legs, but eased you over to your knees in doggy position, your pussy prepped and primed for a good fucking. taking suguru's place, he stroked his hard length before holding your head down to take him full.

you couldn't see what was happening behind you. all you could feel was suguru's tip rubbing against your hole, and then letting out a cry you didn't know you were holding in when he pushed in. it felt like he was ripping you wide open with his thick cock, but you eventually found a good rhythm- deep full slow strokes going in and out of your wet cunt.

your moans were muffled by satoru's cock, and with every hard thrust from surguru you took satoru's dick even deeper down your throat, gagging leaving you gasping for air.

"so hot," murmured satoru, pulling your up in a ponytail "she feel good?" he asked suguru.

"mhmm, just divine," he groaned. "so fucking tight. fuck, i don't wanna to pull out."

"then don't," satoru egged him on. "cream inside that pussy, fill her up."

suguru's thrusts became quicker, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. from hazy eyes you watched satoru stroke himself, a trail of spittle connecting your lips to his cockhead.

"that's right, I bet you'd love that huh baby girl? you want his hot cum deep inside you hmm? maybe i should fuck his cum out you..."

"y-yes! I want it inside m-me..."

"give it to her suguru, cum inside her."

"I-im cumming 'toru!" suguru grips your hips as his white hot load fills you up deep inside, at the same time you see sprouts of white liquid dripping down satoru's fist. he rubs the remaining cum on his cocked on your lips, letting you lick his cum-covered fingers clean.

you feel suguru pull out of you, pulling back on his boxers. satoru spreads out on the bed, his softening cock out proudly. and then there was you. what were you suppose to do after a threesome anyway?

"come cuddle with us suguru," satoru smiled, motioning you to come closer next to him. he threw an arm behind your head, while suguru laid on your other side, pulling an arm around your waist. you felt warm and fuzzy.

you don't know how you guys managed, but the three of you slept peacefully and snug on the single queen bed. you may have won the women's championship, but the real award was this night spent together.

[pandoraslxna]

📝 neteyam + breeding kink + best friends to lovers!

Neteyam x female omatikaya reader, minors dni 🔞

You’ve never really discussed this, not really, but none of you mind that it happens. Not the sex, no that was clearly discussed beforehand. Strange as it is, it relaxes both of you, takes the edge off exhaustion and brings you into a state of pleasant calm. So it’s not that.

It’s this.

"Gonna fill you with my cum, paskalin [honey],” Neteyam growls, "Gonna breed you."

It’s the excitement of doing something so reckless as letting your best friend come inside you, over and over again, never knowing when or if it actually takes. Being so lost in pleasure that neither of you find it in yourselves to care for the consequences of this.

You exhale, Neteyams fingers carding through your hair, lightly scratching at your scalp, pulling back until your back arches enough so he can place a sloppy kiss to your lips. It feels good. You lean in and whine, sucking on each others tongues.

"Such a good fuckin‘ girl," he moans, shuddering at the sound of your cunt swallowing his deep thrusts. "You’re so wet, syulang [flower], fuck."

You feel a wave of pleasure go down your spine, always loving it when Neteyam was pleased with you. Biting your lower lip, you swallow down all high pitched moans as another orgasm comes crashes over you like a wave.

“I want to hear you,” he reminds you, voice rough. You know Neteyam always loved it when the people he fucked were being loud; it made him feel good to know they were enjoying themselves. It makes him feel good to know that you were enjoying yourself.

"Want to fill you up so bad," he muttered then, pulling nearly all the way out before plunging forward, grinning at the sweet sweet moans falling so freely from your lips now.

"D- Do it", you mewl, voice hoarse. "Fuck, do it, Neteyam." You were already so full of his cum that each long thrust was making an audible squelching sound, but he wanted more. He always wanted more.

The idea of Neteyam leaving a part of himself so deep inside of you pushed him over the edge then, and he came hard. Your whole body tensed and clenched down, pussy spasming almost painfully around his large cock, as he spilled inside you with a growl.

[strangerstilinski]

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐 — 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; 𝐧𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞?

| 𝐩𝐭. 𝟏 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟑 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟒 |

It's the worst day you've had in a while.

Each of your classes dragged entirely too long, leaving you glancing at the clock only to find mere minutes had passed since the last time you'd checked.

Then, on the way to the courtyard where you planned to sit in the sun and relax, you'd dropped your lunch. The contents of your takeout container had created a truly heartbreaking splatter across the pavement, and then you hadn't even had enough cash left on you to buy anything else, so you'd had to settle for munching on the bruised apple at the bottom of your bookbag.

And, after an already exhausting morning had tested the strength of your sanity, you had your scheduled office hours in the afternoon. Said meeting was with one of your least favorite professors to discuss an upcoming term paper, and the hour spent in his stuffy office had proved to be grueling and overall unhelpful, which only resulted in you biking home from campus sporting a decidedly bad mood to pair with your rumbling stomach and the beginnings of a stress headache.

When you finally collapse face-first onto your bed a few hours later and release a little scream into your pillow, the sound of it is muffled into no more than a quiet cry. Through the smothering cotton, you fight to pull in a steadying breath, if only so that you might have enough air in your lungs to scream in frustration again.

The sky outside is dark, crickets creating a loud symphony in the distance, and the breeze coming in through your window brings goosebumps along the backs of your thighs where the baggy tshirt you've chosen for pajamas has rucked up to settle in the curve of your spine. The cool air meets your flushed skin like a blanket of ice, your body still warm from a shower in which you'd spent a little longer than usual beneath a cloud of steam and hot water in a failed attempt at releasing some of the lingering tension from the day — But even an extra few minutes breathing in the aromatics of your body wash clinging to the steam-thickened air wasn't enough to settle you. The irritating buzz of the stress still made itself known underneath your skin, the itch of it making your body feel just a little too tight for all of the frustration building up inside.

You can't even find it in you to flinch at the sound of something scrabbling at your bedroom windowsill, nor do you lift your head at the small crash and thump that follow a few seconds later. There's a small rustling of fabric and limbs, shoes thumping against the baseboard as they're kicked off, what you assume is the sound of your backpack being placed back where you'd thrown it on the cushioned bench beneath the window when you'd first gotten home.

There's a moment of silence as Stiles drinks in the sight of you. Hungry eyes rake across every inch of your exposed skin, trailing the length of your legs up to where they meet the supple curve of your ass, and with the way your shirt has bunched up underneath your belly, the soft skin of your backside is hidden from him only by your underwear. He spares a second to admire how the pretty fabric clings to your flesh, the cut high and revealing on the cheeks of your ass.

It takes a few slow seconds for him to reorient his thoughts to something slightly less salacious, but after an audible breath, he manages.

“Are you..? Hey.. 're you sleeping?” Stiles' voice comes out a little incredulous but still hushed, as if he's actually worried about waking you in case you truly had somehow slept through the cacophony of noise he'd caused when he climbed in through the window.

You only give a pitiful whine into your pillow in response, feet kicking a little petulantly as you finally roll to face him to reveal the lack of sleep in your eyes, “Scott isn't home,” You tell him weakly, voice still a little smothered by your pillow, “You coulda jus' come in through the front door.”

Stiles is at the edge of the bed already, kneeling on the mattress and making to join you now that he knows you aren't asleep. He looks deliciously soft, gray sweats hanging low on his hips, his sweatshirt already stripped away in a heap on your bedroom floor to leave him in a cozy-looking tshirt, the fabric of it soft with wear.

“Where's the fun in that?” Stiles asks with a quiet laugh, urging you onto your back and crawling on top of you without warning. His weight settles atop your body and his nose nuzzles into the softness of your breasts over your shirt as he burrows his face into the space between them.

He's so warm. Body heat is quick to seep out from his clothes and through your own with the way he's settled heavily on top of you. It's all a little smothering, the way that his weight is making it a bit hard to breathe, your lungs not quite able to get a full inhale — but it's also grounding, the heavy blanket of warmth he provides managing to alleviate just a little bit of your anxiety.

“One of these days you're gonna hurt yourself, or worse, you might break something of mine with a flailing limb when you inevitably trip and come tumbling through the window,” You tease weakly, pinching your eyes shut as you try to push away that lingering tightness in your chest, “I'm serious. You're gonna break something and I really hope it isn't your face.”

Your fingers come up to tangle in his hair and he hums in appreciation, a content grumble rising in his throat as he settles his cheek onto the plushness of your breast like it's his own personal pillow.

His hand slips down your thigh, fingers blindly drawing little patterns around the top of your knee as he scoffs, “Oh, real exciting. Yeah, next time I'll just use the front door, like some kind of common loser. As if.”

“You are a loser.” You say quietly, the small smile in your voice not quite managing to hide the discontented sigh that slips out as your mind wanders back to the events of the day.

Stiles pushes up onto his elbows at the edge in your voice and your hands fall from his head with the movement. He frowns as his big brown eyes flick over your face in scrutiny, “What’s wrong?” He asks immediately, long brows drawn together as his lip juts out in a pout of concern.

Your eyes fall shut again and you give his biceps a squeeze even as your nose scrunches up, “Just.. Stressed. Had a really shitty day.”

He hums in understanding, sitting up to settle on his knees between your legs and draping your thighs over his own, big hands slipping underneath your hips to rub at the base of your spine. You let out a little noise of appreciation at the rough dig of his fingers massaging the muscles there, hips lifting up from the mattress just a little to give him more room.

“Oh, you like that?”

He's teasing, you know he is, but the way his grip on you tightens, the way his fingers press into the fat of your thighs so that he can tug you just a bit higher up on his own lap — it makes your breath hitch. Your sleep shirt has bunched up just above your navel and it leaves your panties exposed from the way your ass has settled over him. Your body is tilted at an angle, your hips in the air with how he's propped you up on his thighs while your knees press in on either side of his waist.

One of his hands leaves your spine to give the soft dough of your thigh a squeeze before making a slow trail up, settling his palm over the thin cotton at the apex of your thighs. His thumb presses down softly against your clit through the fabric and Stiles watches intently as you let out a breathy sigh when he draws a slow circle against you.

You still haven't dignified him with an answer, opting to pinch your lips together as his thumb slips down a little further to press into the wetness that's begun to soak through the fabric, his finger dipping in and pushing cotton into your opening with it.

“Need me to make you feel better, honey? 's that it?” Stiles asks. The grin in his voice is audible, but when you blink your eyes open to get a good look, you find him peering down at you with awe and hunger swimming in his eyes. When he catches your gaze, the corners of his lips pull up a little more and his thumb moves back to rub at your clit over your underwear, “Need me to make you a little stupid? Huh? Work some of that stress outta your head?”

Your jaw has gone a little slack with the way he's circling your bud with easy drags, knowing exactly how much pressure to use and what angle feels the best and- He asked you a question — What had been the question?

“Huh?” You ask quietly, the sound half a question and half lost to the moan working it's way up your throat.

The smile on Stiles' face goes soft and he leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek, right at the corner of your mouth. Your lips purse and your chin tips up in an attempt to meet him, but he's already leaning back so that he can watch the drag of his finger over your panties.

“You going stupid on me already, baby? I've barely gotten started.”

The circles he's been drawing slow, growing unhurried and leisurely. The movement of his thumb is agonizingly slow now and you huff in frustration and cant your hips up in a silent demand.

“Stiles.” You plead simply.

“Alright, alright,” He laughs, leaning in to press one quick kiss to your mouth before he begins to make his way further down, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw and neck in his wake, “Settle down. I got you.”

He makes a small detour at your chest to bunch your tshirt up at your collarbones, exposing your tits so that he can leave a cluster of bites to the supple flesh. You gasp at the sharper bites, keening a little, but he's already peppering kisses over the abused skin and moving farther down. His tongue dips out between his lips, the warm wetness making you squirm a bit as he moves in a slow line down your stomach. Lower, lower. When he reaches the waistband of your panties, he hooks his fingers under the fabric and pulls just a little, exposing the sliver of sensitive skin just above your patch of trimmed curls. You gasp again at the sharp sting of his teeth when they scrape harshly over your hipbones and your hips lift up again on instinct.

Stiles takes pity on you and finally eases your underwear down your thighs. The tension is broken for a brief moment as he struggles to coax the fabric past your knees and around your ankles without dislodging you from his lap, a small huff of laughter escaping you when he curses quietly.

He rids you of the article but immediately brings your ankle up to nip at your foot in reprimand, pushing your thigh up against your stomach with the movement.

“You gonna behave?” He asks while he curls his fingers around your ankle.

“Mhm.” Your hum and the small nod of your head are paired with a coy smile.

“See, I don't know if I believe you,” Stiles says with a small laugh and an absentminded peck to your skin, his teeth scraping the bottom of your calf with his grin as he does so, “You've got that look in your eye.”

“What look?” You question curiously, a little lightheaded with the way his lips press a small line of kisses from the top of your foot all the way up to your shin and then back down again.

“The look that says you're feelin' a little bratty.” He tells you.

You scoff in indignation and his teeth nip at your ankle bone again, successful in cutting the sound off before you can say anything to the contrary.

“You gonna let me take care of you, or what?” He asks seriously, eyebrows raising a little as he fixes you with a stern look.

You nod and your eyes go a little wide at the tone of his voice, your cunt clenching with the flash of warmth that rushes down your spine.

“Good girl.” Stiles murmurs with a grin, already beginning to kiss a slow trail up from your ankle. His lips press into your skin in an irregular pattern of teeth and tongue, briefly broken up with gentle pecks as he makes his way up the length of your leg toward your naked cunt.

As he finally reaches his destination, he urges the bend of your knees over his shoulders, your legs framing his head nicely as he dips to press an agonizingly gentle kiss to your clit. You fight the jolt in your hips, making an effort to keep your muscles taught, but then he does it again, his lips parting just enough to nudge the little bud with the tip of his tongue, and you're lifting toward him without really meaning to.

“Sorry, sorry.” You're apologizing breathlessly before he can scold you, fingers curling into the duvet as you settle your hips against the mattress again.

“Atta girl.”

He kisses your clit gently again and you bite back a whine at the soft press of lips against you. His wide palms run up and down the outside of your thighs and he turns his head to where your legs are draped over his shoulders to suck softly at the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh. Your brows furrow at the sting of the bruise he's leaving there but you manage to stay still and the praise he murmurs against your skin in return makes your head feel a little light.

Another small series of kisses mark his path back to where you want him most and his voice is quiet as it reaches your ears, “No more stress babe. You know I got you, right?”

“Mhm.” You agree quickly, fingers tightening around the blankets in anticipation.

“Good. Good..”

And then his mouth is on you again and you find it a little hard to breathe. He doesn't ease into it, there are no teasing licks up the length of your folds nor are there anymore agonizingly gentle kisses. His mouth closes around your clit, sucking softly, tongue laving over the bud before he's sucking again.

A weak little cry pushes its way out of you, another coming just a moment later when Stiles scrapes his teeth against you gently as he works, his tongue quick to sooth over the sensitive nub in apology. He kisses your clit like he can't get enough, licking and leaving wet little pecks only to close his lips around it again a second later.

Minutes pass. Your mouth doesn't even close between moans anymore, lips permanently parted to let out a near-constant stream of tiny whines and breathy gasps and desperate whimpers. Your whole body feels like a live-wire. The nonstop stimulation to your most sensitive muscle leaves you teetering on the edge of something earth-shattering despite it not actually managing to peak yet.

“F-ffuck,” You manage to get out, lips trembling as you look down and catch sight of the way Stiles is devouring you, the dim lamplight creating golden patches in the dark locks of his hair, his head bobbing as he works. “Stiles.. St-Stiles! 's.. 's so g-fuuck.. 's so good-”

He doesn't slow, nor does he glance up at your first real words since he started, sheer determination pushing him to continue at the same brain-melting pace.

His teeth catch against you again and you gasp sharply, the sound tearing from your dry throat as your hand shoots up to grab a fistful of his hair.

“J-jesus, nngh- God! Stiles-”

Your back arches of its own accord, hips canting toward his mouth as another choked sound drags its way out of your throat. You feel like you could come any second — have felt a little like you might come any second for the past ten minutes at least — and it's making everything a little fuzzy around the edges. Your shower-damp hair is cool against your flushed skin when you tip your head to the side against the pillows while warmth creeps along your neck and spreads down your spine. It crawls all the way to your toes as your eyes pinch shut, fighting to hide the way that they're starting to cross embarrassingly from the pleasure.

“Fuck,” You whine with a stuttered breath at the feeling of his lips closing around you again, sucking so delicately at your sensitive bud, tongue rolling against it softly within the suction of his mouth. “Fuckfuckfuuucck-”

He finally gives you a small response, a quiet, noncommittal hum that rumbles through your cunt and has your hips spasming with a thrum of pleasure. Stiles brings one hand from where it had been drawing absentminded patterns along the length of your thigh and drops it to rest over your torso instead. He firmly pushes your hips back down without ever slowing his skillful mouth and you can't hold back a quiet whimper as you're immobilized, the restless movement transferring almost immediately into a tremble in your thighs and stomach, the muscles beneath quivering and jumping under your skin.

His palm is warm and heavy where the weight of it is spread over your ribs. The width of his hand has his fingers curling around your waist while his thumb begins to drag back and forth over your tummy in long, smooth strokes. His soothing touch is a tether in the dark and you cling to it desperately, your fingers tangling tighter in his hair as you grapple for something to keep you steady amidst what's beginning to feel a little like it might be a constant, never ending orgasm.

A noise rips from you so choked off that it sounds a bit like it might've been punched out of your chest and your hips jump again. The shakes in your thighs and stomach seem to spread, your whole body beginning to quake throughout stuttered breaths that might actually be sobs.

It's then that Stiles finally peers up at you, brown eyes meeting your own and taking in the mess you've become under his minstrations. He still doesn't pause, doesn't slow, but he does raise his eyebrows in silent question as his fingertips dig into the doughy flesh at your waist.

You don't manage more than a garbled, “Yes!”

Your free hand grabs ahold of his forearm with an iron grip and a few tears actually break free and fall back into your hair when the warm fog creeps impossibly further across your body, clouding what little remained of the blurred edges of your mind. Any shreds of lucidity are gone as your eyes roll back with a high keening moan. Your hips stutter wildly now, thighs tightening around Stiles of their own accord as your never-ending orgasm seems to finally crest and send you hurtling over the edge that you've been dragging on for so long.

It's possible you black out. The next thing you become aware of is Stiles pressing loud, smacking kisses to your pelvis, the insides of your thighs, your belly and ribs, his lips are gentle against your skin as the soft sound of the kisses breaks through the fog in your head. By the time he settles on top of you, hands slipping beneath your sweat-slicked shoulders to rest his weight on his elbows underneath you, the heavy beat of your heart is a loud echo in your ears.

He's wiped his face off at some point, but his swollen lips still glisten lightly from the time spent between your thighs as you pant warm breaths against his mouth. The cool smugness that Stiles had worn before is gone and now he looks at you with nothing but adoration, chocolate brown blinking down at you as if, even flushed and sticky with sweat, you might be the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

You intend to bring a hand up to fix the wild tufts of his hair where your hands made a home earlier, but your arm feels entirely too heavy when you lift it and you hardly manage more than a brush of your fingers over his cheek before your hand falls limply to the pillow beneath your head. Stiles chuckles softly at your attempt and tangles his fingers with your own, dipping his head to press a few playful kisses to your cheeks and the tip of your nose until you reward him with a breathless laugh.

“You okay?” He checks quietly, thumb stroking over the side of your own, “Wasn't too much was it?”

“Okay,” You assure him, “Very, very okay.”

The way his sweatpants rub against your naked legs is soft when he readjusts, manhandling you onto your side so he can wrap you up in his embrace, the quilt from the end of the bed being draped over you as he settles in. His arms go around your shoulders and you curl your own around his back in return, your nose pushing into the warmth of his chest as your body continues to come down.

“Hey,” You murmur into his shirt, craning your head back to look up at him and tangling your bare legs with his as you continue, “You're big-spooning me. 'm usually big spoon.”

“Yeah. Not tonight your not.” He says easily, wide palm dragging soft up and down in the space between your shoulder blades.

His hips unconsciously nudge forward just a little and you feel the warm stiffness of his neglected cock against your hip, erection straining against his sweats where he's pressed against you. It makes you gasp almost comically.

“Wha'bout you?” You mumble in sleepy realization, batting your eyes with heavy blinks in an attempt to keep sleep from claiming you.

“Don't worry about me, alright? Seriously, I'll just jerk off in the shower later,” He tells you, fondness in his voice, “Now shut up and let me hold you.”

You hum, burrowing back into his chest contentedly, “Yes, sir.”

A quiet groan meets your ears as the soothing motions of his hand stutters, “None of that, come on.” Stiles huffs quietly, voice laced with self-deprecating laughter, “I know you know you're gonna get me worked up sayin' shit like that.”

You did know that.

Your lips pull into a grin, brain lax and floaty and sleepy. Your arms tighten around him for a moment before relaxing again, “Sorry.”

He grumbles something to the contrary as your eyes slip closed, your body finally free of the tight-coiled tension that had followed you around like a shadow all day.

Stiles Stilinski is loud and weird and passionate to degree that's concerning at times. He's bumbling and he's awkward, often to the point of it being a little adorable and entirely endearing, but then he still always manages to surprise you — With his eagerness to please. With the way he can shift into something else, someone else entirely, behind closed doors. Just for you.

That night, wrapped up in the arms of your brother's best friend you realize that, at some point along the way, after all this time, he might very well have become your best friend too. And finally, feeling warm and safe and cared for, you find yourself slipping into a blissful sleep.

𝐚/𝐧; 𝐢 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭? 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲! 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭! 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐩𝐮𝐭! — 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 🤍

[xodite]

MDNI

Female yandere oc x fem reader x fem! Yan! Oc!

Light smut incoming

This fantasy post includes forced Pussy eating, soft cnc, bondage, kidnapping, chase kink, fem characters, fem genitalia, cult leader, worship kink, blood, bondage and praise.

The cult leaders pet

~ - ~

~ - ~

After finding pictures in the forest while camping of dead bodies drained of their blood with a deadly cults logo as-well as a gorgeous woman with long brown hair and hazel eyes standing on top of the bodies you dash to find help, will you escape in time?

You ran through the harsh secluded forest with the cold winds rushing through your hair as you raced away from your camp where you found those cursed images only two things ran through your mind, were you next? And what the fuck was that?

Through your jumbled thoughts and ragged breaths you looked down to see the pictures in your hands again. These images looked hauntingly like the witness described pictures of the deadly cult that lived in these woods, although those were just rumours right? Paranoia raced through your body as you breathed harder until you heard a haunting branch crack behind you. There was someone behind you. And they didn’t have the best intentions with you. Especially with those images you held in your hands.

You continued to race through the forest as you heard ragged breaths and angry desperate cries. The cries rang around your thumping panicked mind. They were loud and horrid. The cries pinged your mind and plagued the deepest crevice of your mind.

In a panic you spotted a thick couple of bushes and hid in there, accidentally dropping the evidence aka the photos. As you watched them fall you heard two people arguing angrily then complete silence. Utter silence. Before a soft woman’s voice rang out from the bush after her perfect manicured fingers picked up the now muddied photos.

“Sweet thing! come on out~! Poor thing your probably so petrified~ trust me our goddesses will be so welcoming! There’s nothing to fear!”

The voice chirped condescendingly as you heard them rustle in the bushes around you, increasingly getting more and more aggressive. They wanted to find you and they wanted to find you now. Then it all came crashing down upon your poor brain as you realized, they wanted you. They wanted to offer you like they did to those to their leaders. The cult was real.

As the wandering hands came closer you felt your muscles tense and you dashed out of the bushes, desperate to escape. At the sudden movement you caught the eye of the near by follower and they attempted to grab onto you, pushing you both into mud as your knees bled from the sharp stick and rock slivers in the wet mud. You desperately crawled away while screaming for help as loud as you could. Suddenly you no longer felt the crushing grip on your leg and looked behind you. The followers were bowing?

Your eyes looked infront of you to see two taller beautiful woman. Cold horror rushed through your veins as you realized one of the woman were in the photos. They were both dressed in riches and soft silk fabrics as they looked down upon you. One had beautiful black silk dressings while the other had white dressings. You easily recognized the one in the black dress as the woman who stood upon the dead bodies.

Cold Horror struck through your bones as your ragged breaths rang audibly through the tense atmosphere. You had no where to run.

Before you could react you felt a sharp pinch in the back of your neck as everything went dark, one of the followers must’ve used a sedative dart. The only thing you felt after that was cold silence as you heard your body thump in the mud and felt yourself fall out of consciousness and the harsh ear ringing sound that permanently altered your hearing.

- smut warning -

You awoke chained to the hard cold ground on your knees infront of the two woman who sat on simple yet elegant wooden chairs. Once you got a clearer look at them you realized they were both hauntingly gorgeous yet something about them ran shivers down your spine. Wordlessly the one with lighter silks stood and laid a gentle hand against your face and slowly guided your disoriented mouth to her smooth delicate pussy. You shook your head no softly yet she tugged harder on your hair, causing tears to run down your face.

“Behave.”

The powerful woman above you demanded as she continued to push your face into her pussy to your dismay. At the rough action you felt the other cult leaders arms wrap around your waist and heard her smooth voice speak to the woman above you,

“Iradita my love, be gentle.”

The woman spoke while slowly slipping her two fingers onto your underwear, slowly massaging your clit. You moaned softly as her skilled fingers continued to attack the little bundle of nerves, ignoring your little whimpers of disapproval.

“Irademia. I shall do as I please, and this sweet girl is going to eat my pussy.”

Iradita hissed while shoving your face into her pussy demandingly. Horror washed through your body as you remembered the news about the horrors they put their victims through, it was better to stay on their good sides. You slowly stuck your tongue on her clit and licked gently. The woman above you groaned and moved her pussy around on your tongue, obviously enjoying it. Her grip on your hair loosened as she whispered,

“Oh sweet girl I’m going to enjoy you, keep going for I am your goddess”

Terrified of Iradita’s anger you kept going, on the edge of cumming from Irademia fingering, you started to suck desperately on Iraditas clit for some form of comfort from the sensitivity in your clit from the merciless massaging. Finally you came on Irademia’s fingers, coming undone and collapsing in her arms. At your movement Irademia caught you and allowed you to rest on her as she continued playing with you.

Iradita groaned and placed one leg over your shoulder, placing her pussy on your face, forcing you to keep eating her out. This was going to be a long night, and you were theirs now, their pet. Their offering.

[lcvclywon]

In another universe

back to masterlist

synopsis ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 You swore the next time you saw Sunghoon you would cuss him out and turn a cold shoulder. But when he suddenly appears at your apartment door one night, drunk and desperate, you find yourself faltering

now playing > •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10 difficult - gracie abrams, anaheim -niki, hope ur okay - olivia rodrigo

warnings ˎˊ˗ cursing, crying, fighting, kissing, mentions of hoon being emotionally unavailable, mentions of breaking up, heavyyyy angst, mentions of alcohol, mentions of being drunk, mentions of children, open ending, use of the word masochist once, pet names

genre ⭑.ᐟ hurt to ??

pairings: non-idol ex!sunghoon x female reader

wc ᵎᵎ 1.28k

thoughts frm yuya 💭 fun fact this was actually based off a convo i had with my ex!!!!!! 😁😁😁 so! hit kinda close to home guys! anyways angst is actually so fun to write i won't even lie...

You had just finished taking a shower when you heard a few gentle and quiet knocks coming from your door, barely audible but loud enough for you to hear them. Hand still intertwined in your wet hair in an attempt to dry it, you peered out the peephole to check who was disturbing you at this hour. 

Fuck. 

Out of all the people you didn’t want to see, Park Sunghoon was at the top of that list. Yet there he stood, eyes heavy and lidded, hair a mess, and gaze averted on the floor, yet you could tell his eyes were plagued with desperation. And even though you so badly wanted to ignore him standing out there hopelessly, a small part of you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you had done that. 

Keeping the door ajar you squeezed your head between the gap, his eyes immediately darted to your own. Fuck, you shouldn’t have done this. You knew you shouldn’t have done this because the moment his eyes met yours you felt the all-so-familiar sense of longing overcoming your soul, the sense of longing you’d been trying to fight off for 6 months; all for it to come crashing down on you again. Well, there goes half a year's worth of healing. 

“Sunghoon? What are you doing here?” 

“YN, I uh- I didn’t think you’d open up…” shit. His breath reeked of alcohol, of course, the only time he’d come to see you would be when he was drunk. 

“Are you drunk Sunghoon?” your words lingered with bitterness as they left your tongue 

“Just- just a bit…can I come in?” his eyes were still pleading, and that accompanied by the shaking of his voice would’ve been enough to break you. But you refused to let him do that again. 

“Sunghoon you’re drunk you really should just go home-” your hands fumbled at the doorknob as you tried to gently shut the door, but Sunghoon was quicker than you it seemed. 

“Please,” his hand reaching towards your own, “I’ll be good.” fuck. 

You hated how easily you faltered under his words, his gaze, his touch. You hated it so badly, yet you allowed yourself to do so every. single. time.

Begrudgingly you opened the door fully to let him drunkenly stumble in, collapsing at the end of your bed. A scene all too familiar that haunted you in your sleep. You swore you would never let Sunghoon back into your life, that the next time you saw him you would spit insults in his face and stand your ground, yet with one touch of the wrist the defences you raised for yourself seemed to be built upon sand. 

Seating yourself at the edge of your bed you allowed yourself to gingerly run your fingers through his hair, you missed this. However, that was all the more reason why you shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be allowing yourself to hurt again, just at the expense of a few fleeting moments of serenity. 

“Why are you here drunk Sunghoon?” 

“I,” he propped himself up, allowing him to stare into your glossy eyes, “I don’t really know. I got kinda drunk and- fuck I couldn’t stop thinking about you love.”

Love, fuck you hated how naturally it rolled off his tongue. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Sorry…” he mumbled hazily, “Don’t you miss it though?”

You did. “No.”

“Well I do, I miss you YN. I miss all of this, your hugs, your voice, your touch, your anger. Fuck, I miss being scolded by you after drinking actually, it’s weird right, maybe I’m a masochist.” he said with a small grin

“Hoonie come on-” Hoonie, you didn’t even mean to say it yet the words seemed to come out of you like it was an instinct. 

“I missed that too,” he cut in as his hand slowly drew circles around your knuckles, “Shit YN I missed you so much” his eyes slowly started to well up with tears, a few threatening to drip down. You hated how your heart still held a soft spot for him, but you hated seeing him cry even more. 

“Hoon don’t cry.” your hands reached over to cup his face, fuck if this was all so wrong why did it feel so right. Like your hand belonged there. 

“YN- fuck,” now he really was crying “I really do love you.”

Do, present tense. “Just because you loved me doesn’t mean I felt loved by you” 

The memories you tried so hard to repress suddenly flooded all back to you, the arguments, the sleepless nights, the cold glares. The reason you broke up in the first place. You tried your hardest to forget that night, the shouts between you two that filled up your apartment, the way his words pierced through your heart like a spear, the way he walked out so easily. All to just walk back into your heart like he owned the place. Fuck he did own your heart though, he never stopped owning it. 

“I’m sorry YN. I’m so so sorry, I should’ve been better. I can be better. Please, I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. I won’t shut you out anymore, fuck I never should’ve. I just- please, I can’t keep living without you. I haven’t been living without you-” he was practically sobbing now. “Please YN, I mean it.”

You wiped away the tears running down his cheeks, seeming to not notice how your eyes were stinging with tears as well. “Hoonie I miss you too but, we can’t keep hurting each other like this. We aren’t good for each other” 

“We were good YN. It was so so good, I just fucked it up. Please give me a chance, I can be better.” 

Your brain told you to block out his words; and deny everything that was coming out of his mouth, but your heart seemed to overpower those commands. “It wasn’t just you Hoonie, I could’ve been better too-” 

“No you were perfect.” he blurted out cutting you off, “I never stopped loving you. Can’t we just, start over?” desperation was an understatement to describe him, god he was a pleading mess. 

You could practically hear your own heart-shattering. “I never stopped loving you either Hoonie. But you’re drunk right now, let’s just talk about this in the morning ‘kay?” 

“Okay but, can I please sleep here?” 

No, he shouldn’t. “Sure hoon”

Sunghoon made his way to the top of your bed, arm reaching out signalling you to come over. A signal you regretfully accepted. You nested yourself between his arms, breathing in his cologne while his chin rested on the top of your head. You hated this, fuck you hated how natural this felt. You hated how easily you could melt into his touch, his words, his scent. You hated how badly you loved it. 

“I love you, my YN” his breath slightly hitched before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

You tried ignoring the lump in your throat but it was no use, the next words that came out of your mouth were swallowed with sniffles and quiet sobs “I love you too hoonie”

Maybe in another universe, you two could’ve talked everything out. Maybe you two could have reconciled and lived happily together again. Maybe the 4 years of dating didn’t disappear in one night. Maybe you two could’ve gotten married like he said. Maybe you lived in a nice 2-bedroom house in the countryside, dogs running around the yard whilst you both basked in the sunlight. Maybe you would have actually had the child you fantasised about. 

Maybe, just maybe, Sunghoon would’ve been there when you woke up the next morning.

perm taglist! (send an ask to be added) @floweryang @cupidhoons @msauthor

[apomaro-mellow]

5 times eddie singled out steve during a concert and the one time steve did it back

Corroded Coffin fans were no strangers to the deep love shared between frontman Eddie and his boyfriend Steve. To the point where magazines barely cared to feature any candid pics of them unless Eddie was flipping off the camera. "Two Very in Love People Share a Kiss at Cafe Date" didn't really sell much when it was the 50th story like that.

So when Eddie slowed things down in the middle of the concert, getting that very familiar 'heart eyes' look.

"I know my baby's in the audience. Even though he has a very comfortable room backstage. Show me where you are beautiful." Eddie's voice was slightly rough from the first half of songs.

His eyes scanned the audience until he heard a bunch of screaming from his right. The crowd was vibrating and he knew someone had spotted Steve.

"There you are." Eddie bit his lip, grin threatening to split his face. "This next one's for you."

The crowd was a mix of screams and awws as the beginning melody of It's Always Been You was heard.

2. Another day, another venue. This time, the afternoon crowd at a music festival. It was one of Eddie's favorite kind of scenes. People of all types, letting the music take them in broad daylight. A good mix of diehard fans, casuals, and people who had never heard them play before.

Eddie knew for a fact that Steve was sitting in a little foldable chair, with some drink from one of the booths. He always looked so unassuming with his soft hair and even softer clothes. But Eddie could never let him forget his inner badass. Nor did he let anyone else forget.

"Lil pop quiz for my fans", Eddie started. "One of our fan favorites The Knight's Arrival is inspired by someone very special in my life. Can we get a chant going for the man who has always been my knight in shining armor?"

A very enthusiastic chant for Steve started and Eddie thought his heart might burst. It was like a triumphant reprisal of those times the school would cheer on the ex-king on game night.

3. Sometimes the band put an age restriction on a concert. Now Eddie was of the mind that children didn't need to be coddled or have things censored for them. But also, he didn't need to lay it all out when there was a kid in the audience.

It was these kinds of shows that Eddie let it all hang out. More than one song was inspired by his nights with Steve. His angel's voice even featured on one track, letting out husky moans as Eddie brought him to the brink in the recording booth.

And tonight Eddie was hot. Hot enough to have already taken his shirt off and throw it to the audience. Hot enough that when he went backstage and saw Steve, he was only thinking of one thing. Eddie kissed him deep, tongue licking at the roof of his mouth before a word could leave his lips.

Crash was keeping the audience going with a drum performance. One that started with a simple beat that slowly intensified.

"I want them to hear you", Eddie said against Steve's mouth.

Steve's hair was already tangled in his hair. "You wanna dangle me in front of them?", he smirked.

"Show them you're mine", Eddie started nibbling at his jaw. "Show 'em how good I love you down."

Eddie got the headset mic rigged onto Steve. His sweet boy was already hard, just as turned on from seeing Eddie in his element as he ever was. Eddie slid down to his knees and unzipped his boyfriend's pants.

It started quiet. Not even audible as Crash really got going on the drums and got close to the climax. The room erupted as he reached the end. And it was in the calming of their cheers that they finally began to hear it.

"Eddie, mmmfuck."

They stirred in unison. Steve's voice rang loud and clear as he received a pleasure the rest of them could only speculate on.

"Fuck, sso good. Don't stop. Don't stop-ahh."

For a moment all they heard was Steve's quickening breaths before he called out Eddie's name, dragging it out like he was falling down a well.

Eddie came out moments later, licking something off his lips to cacophonous cheers. The bassline to Take a Bite began. He wished he could've told his high school self that one day he'd get a standing ovation for blowing a guy.

4. "Before we get started tonight I gotta make an announcement!", Eddie came out, already on 100. "First, where's my angel baby. Help me find him."

As usual, a particular part of the audience went wild and moved in a way that could only mean Steve was there.

"Can I get a parting of the Red Sea?", Eddie asked, moving his hands apart and getting that part of the mob to split like Moses. Steve stood there in the middle.

"Get used to that gorgeous. My fellow rockers, scholars, and mischief makers - I am officially a kept man." He flashed the ring on his finger to a din of screams. "Wedding's next fall and we're registered at every corner liquor store! 5-6-7-8!"

5. Eddie felt like he was home. In the middle of a set, shredding in a way that made him feel alive. The current song made it even better. One of the best collaborative efforts of the band. All of their fingerprints were on this track.

The crowd was just as amped up, giving back everything they got. There truly was no place he'd rather be.

Then he caught sight of his Steve, standing just off stage in the wings. And he was overcome. None of this would be possible without him. And even if Eddie and his boys somehow made it to stardom, it all meant nothing without his sweetheart.

Eddie casually walked over, fingers still moving as he got closer to Steve. He only took his hands off his guitar to grab his fiance and dip him as they kissed. Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie's neck. This wasn't his first time being kissed on stage.

And just as other times, the crowd went wild, while Jeff, Gareth, and Crash rolled their eyes through the playing.

6. Steve watched, absolutely lovestruck as Eddie sat on the couch, eating cereal. Dustin's baby, little Deana was propped up on cushions next to him, clearly satisfied as she sat there content. They were uncles babysitting for the weekend.

Steve walked over and grabbed the remote from off the coffee table, holding it like a mic. "All the babes out there, are you ready to rock?", he pointed to Deana.

Her new eyes got large at the movement and sound and her little fists waved in the air.

"But before I go on, I gotta give special love to someone tonight", Steve turned his gaze to Eddie. "To the greatest thing since sliced bread, I could watch you eat Coco Puffs all day."

"You're such a cornball", Eddie beamed, cheeks turning pink. "Can't believe you're doin it in front of a baby."

"Oh, don't tell me the god of rock is getting bashful? So when I wanna shout you out in front of our niece, it's cheesy. But when you call me out in front of thousands-"

"Shut up and kiss me." Eddie put the half finished bowl on the floor and grabbed Steve by the wrist, pulling him right into his lap.

Steve let out a little breath between kisses. "Dustin's gonna have a fit if he finds out we made out in front of his baby."

"What he don't know won't hurt him."

[b1rds3ye]

Radio Silence

The mission required you to separate from the rest of Task Force 141 but when the operation is compromised, all he can do is listen to the panic through the comms until everything goes silent.

Pairings: Captain John Price x GN!Reader, Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader Reader Aliases: Breeze (Callsign), Bravo 1-5 (Squad-Member Code) Genre: Angst (open-ended), Drama Warning: Descriptions of violence/crashes, blasphemy/religious references, (probably) inaccurate military terms Word Count: 3k (~1.5k each)

Captain John Price

The captain was not a superstitious man, but when you’re on the battlefield, you take all the good fortune you can get. With age he’s picked up a range of small habits and lucky paraphernalia to get him through the mission; an aged penny in his left breast pocket, a four leaf clover stored in another, he finds himself reciting the lord’s prayer even though he’s not particularly religious (and if there is a god he’d like to personally go up and sock them across the face).

When you noticed his little rituals, you added on a good luck charm of your own - his favourite by far. A quick peck on the cheek followed by a teasing little “good luck, captain” in his ear. Price swears there’s something divine in your affection, it does wonders for his morale and efficiency. He thought nothing of it the first few times, but when he realised that this little gift of yours was here to stay, he started to reciprocate in kind when the others weren’t looking. His soul has become tainted over the years - if anything a kiss from him should be a bad omen - but your beaming smile in response convinces him that maybe he’s given you some luck your way.

And perhaps that’s why, after your ritual good luck kiss, he feels a little more than bothered when Laswell calls you away before he can reciprocate. You notice the slight furrow of his eyebrows and laugh, telling him not to worry and that you’ll see him on the other side. The hold you had on his arm disappears as you pull away, bidding him and the rest of the Task Force good luck as you join your own squadron. Price then returns to commandeering his own men, but the thought lingers in the back of his mind. Perhaps you need that extra little bit of luck today.

Price hates how good his intuition can be.

“Bravo 0-6, do you copy?”

With his squadron grounded and on the perimeter of the site, he stiffens at the tone of your voice. That’s not how you usually sound like over comms, that hint of uncertainty didn’t suit you.

“Loud and clear, in position of Site A.”

“Copy, we’re at the compound but… we’ve got company.”

“Al-Qatala?”

“No, looks like Al-Qatala is buddy-buddy with some mercs and- shit.”

“Breeze, what are you seeing?”

“How’d they get us surrounded…?” You mutter more to yourself than to Price but his blood runs cold regardless.

“Bravo 1-5 you are to fall back and wait for backup-”

He’s cut off by various layers of static but he’s learnt to decipher them. The deeper base of the rustle of fabric as you manoeuvre, the sharp trill of gunshots all overlaying the white noise of distant shouting.

“Price, our exits are blocked, they knew we’d be here, how’d they- Corporal! Fuck, stay with me! We’re dropping like flies here. Bravo-1, we’ve got no choice, we have to push through, full offensive!”

He hears the screams of nearby soldiers. While he’s grateful none of them are yours, he knows that the ride back to base will be a rough one regardless. He feels the eyes of his subordinates burn holes into him and the walkie talkie. Gaz, who was beside him, was the only one moving, animatedly talking to Laswell and filling her in on the situation.

“Bravo 1-5-”

There’s an audible sigh on your end that shuts him up.

Through the time it has taken for Price to become captain, he’s learned a lot the hard way. One of the most important things he’s learned is that earning Lady Luck’s favour is more crucial than any skill for the battlefield. Some of the best he’s ever seen has fallen because they pissed her off somehow, but he still never expected her to shun you.

“Just my luck…” your voice starts off quiet as you curse to yourself. A gulp breaks up your panting as you stabilise your breathing. Your next words are far too calm.

“I’m sorry, Price.”

“Sergeant.” Price’s voice was low, cautious. A warning. He knows how you fight, he knows you don’t do anything extreme unless the situation he calls for it, and once again he’s praying to the unknown that it hasn’t come to that.

“I said next time we hit the pub with the 141 that the first round will be on me but I don’t think I can make that.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, Breeze.”

“The merc company goes by Order of Ashes.”

Your words are becoming harder to hear as the explosions seem to be getting closer and closer. Gaz is becoming louder, literally screaming into his comms as he near begs for an evac for your squadron. The rest of his team is becoming restless. Price’s grip tightens impossibly tight on the walkie talkie, any tighter and he could probably crush the metal.

“Rain hell on them for me, yeah?”

Price starts calling for your name, only to be interrupted by a deafening static that has him reeling from his own technology. Inexperienced privates that surrounded him flinched at the sound while Gaz fell silent. Soon Price’s walkie talkie falls silent too.

He brings his hand up to activate communications again, a tentative check in.

“Bravo 1-5, do you copy?”

He waits for a moment.

“Fuck. Breeze? Do you copy?”

The next time he calls out to you is the first time he’s hesitant, to the untrained ear he sounded as strong as ever but to him he recognises how his own voice wavers. A gentle call of your actual name, the last resort.

Silence.

Price gives you a few more seconds to answer, each moment more damning than the last. Gaz sends a concerned look his way but words fail him. He’s a good sergeant but his inexperience is showing. He hasn’t fully mastered the poker face, not like Price has. 

Eventually he lets out a heavy exhale through his nose, counting each racing heartbeat it takes until it has marginally slowed.

Gaz instinctively straightened up, he didn’t need to see Price’s face to know his captain was transforming before his very eyes. Price adjusts his hat, looking at the rest of his team under the brim.

“Alright, we’ve got double the work and half the manpower. No time to lose, I want this site cleared within the hour, and then we're finding our other half."

With affirmatives all round, the soldiers get to work and so does Price. To the untrained eye, he’s calm, eerily so. As captain, Price can’t afford to lose his cool, it’ll bleed over and smother his team, blanket them in a tense atmosphere of panic and uncertainty. So he stays resolute, acting as the team’s anchor as he guides them towards the objective with precision.

The only emotion that breaks his facade is anger. Pure, unbridled rage that casts a frightening glaze over his eyes. His allies can see it as Price stomps towards the entrance of the site. Al-Qatala most certainly feel it as their lackeys are pummeled to the ground, bones cracking against stone and tiles. They’re not gifted the mercy of a quick bullet, but the pain of slowly bleeding out with broken bones, bruised bodies and limbs jutting out in all the ways they should not. Every bruising punch, every bullet delivered does little to quell the raging storm within him. It brings him closer to the mission objective but it doesn’t bring him closer to you, and that’s the only thing that matters right now. There’s no hostages, no chance of salvation for his enemies. Any form of good will in Price was taken away when you were taken away from him. He hopes whatever god that sees the carnage he’s inflicted knows that it is only a taste of what to come if he ever meets that poor sod.

When his side of the operation is done and the squadron is now leaving the site, Price returns to his comms. He needs to address the other half of the mission, you. Suddenly his tongue feels thick in his mouth as his throat tightens. His collar is suffocating.

“Bravo 0-6 to Watcher-1 do you copy?”

Laswell’s voice rings out.

“Affirmative. We’ve already dispatched birds to Bravo-1’s location, we’ll do what we can and sort out that compound.”

“Do me one more thing. Find me everything you can on the ‘Order of Ashes’. I want names, locations, families, the whole fucking mile.”

“Can do. … Is this for Breeze?”

“Breeze wanted me to rain hell on them…”

Price’s voice is low as he puts a cigar in his mouth. He lights it up, even when the cigar smokes he keeps the lighter on. His eyes narrow at the flickering flame, fixated on it for a moment longer. He’s never been a particularly superstitious man, but he’s asking for Lady Luck to be on his side once again. For the slim chance that you’re somewhere out there, breathing. He’s never been worthy of her favour, but you damn well are so surely she’ll put that into account. She’ll consider that you still have a lot to do, you still have a good luck kiss that Price needs to return. He puts his lighter away.

“... and I intend to deliver.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Ghost preferred his quieter missions. Others feel safer when in a team but more people mean more variables, and more variables mean more fuck ups, and heavens know he’s had enough of those. For Ghost, the less, the better. And yet, when it came to 141, and in particular to you, he’d pick company over going solo in a heartbeat.

Reconnaissance missions were a personal favourite, they were quiet, less violent if done right and often required only a few people. Of course his first person of choice is you, even if you’d always call these missions an “impromptu date” and then chastise him for not planning something more extravagant just to rile him up.

Even now, when you two were starting on opposite sides of the target site a good few kilometres apart, you were connected through communications. He’d listen as you ramble about anything and everything on your mind when the mission gets quiet. It was endearing, it was soothing. Ghost never thought he’d find someone like you with the power to give him a respite even when on duty - or if he ever deserved such a thing. And yet here he was, sitting against a wall, waiting for further instructions from Laswell as you started the purely hypothetical debate on who in the 141 would best survive the zombie apocalypse.

“Honestly, with a mask like yours you could probably blend in with the horde. 10 out of 10 you’d last your entire life like that.”

“Surrounded by brain dead morons? Already have that.”

He heard your laugh that you tried to mask as an exaggerated scoff.

“How long do you think I’d last?”

“One hour at most.”

“Oh come on Ghost, have a bit more faith in me.”

“All Bravo to Watcher-1, we’re awaiting further action, copy.”

As Laswell replies, Simon can already imagine your offended expression as he changes the topic.

“Bravo-1 this is Watcher-1, you are all clear to close in on the perimeter. Do not engage, just tell us what you see.”

“Watcher-1 this is Bravo 1-5, I’m already seeing hostiles.”

Ghost stills, his hand reaching back up to the comms. You’ve always managed to keep it cool but he heard how your sentence ended with a slight waver. It was too early for speculation, but the alarm bells were already going off in his head. The enemy should be clustered within the site, nowhere near where you currently are.

“I’m counting a dozen men, a couple of trucks and- that’s looking like some impressive cargo.”

There’s some extra static as Ghost finds his pace increasing. He won’t be able to reach you soon, but it doesn’t stop his legs from moving towards the site.

“They’re moving quickly, they’ve got an agenda.”

“Stay frosty, Breeze.”

“Got it, Simon.”

Your voice is more of a whisper now, almost blending in with the static. Was the enemy that close to you already?  Usually, he loved when you used his actual name. Everyone calls him ‘Ghost’ even off-duty, but you were proper enough to at least always call him by his callsign in battle. You were getting spooked and he was too far away to even try and comfort you.

It was a strain to unclench his balled fists. He wasn’t going to have a mission go wrong, at least not one that involved you. He’d be damned if something took you out before him, because he refused to return to a life where you weren’t yapping his ear off.

“Breeze, head back to exfil.”

“Fuck, they’re heading this way.”

If you found a good place to hide, Ghost could reach you before any enemy did. He had to.

“I’m heading towards your position. E.T.A 20 minutes.”

“Ghost, my spot is now crawling with hostiles. I know you’re a one man army but I think you’re pushing it this time.”

Your laugh was different this time. It wasn’t as hearty as the one he heard before, it was a weak wheeze. Half-hearted, the sound of a bitter and quiet defeat. He could hear your rugged breathing against the end of the mic. If he was actually with you, he’d stand beside you in moments like this, letting you put your body weight on him discreetly as he anchored you to the world. His gloved hand instinctively curls as he imagines himself holding onto your arm.

“Breeze, stay with me. Focus on the objective.”

“You owe me a proper date after this, Ghost.”

“Then make sure you get back in one piece-”

The comms are disrupted with a voice that Ghost can’t recognise, with you returning an indistinguishable shout and a curse. He can’t help calling your name into the comms, only to hear the static of indescribable commotion, bodies shuffling and the harrowing crack of broken bones and limbs. It escalates into a deafening crescendo spanning only a few seconds before the grand finale of a thump of a fallen body. The transmission ends with a damning click. He stops in his tracks before he returns to the comms.

“Breeze? How copy?”

The line has gone dead. Ghost slams his fist into the nearest wall, but it does little to quell the pain from within.

“Bravo this is Watcher-1, what’s your status?”

Ghost pauses at Laswell’s request, he wants you to be the one who replies on his behalf, you usually do. Never did a moment feel so heavy, outweighing his military gear and weapons, almost bringing the hulking man to his knees. His hand reluctantly comes up to activate his walkie talkie. He takes his sweet time, giving you the chance to interrupt. When he finally speaks, his voice is slow as he draws out every syllable, every pause a desperate invitation for you to speak up.

“Bravo 1-5 is M.I.A.”

Laswell is silent on the other side. Ghost lets his head tilt back until it rests on the wall beside him, the guilt made his skull too heavy. With that sentence alone he felt like your executioner, as if he just brought the possibility of you being gone into reality. The only thing he can hear now is the slight rustle of grass against the wind, a backdrop to the rhythmic bass of his pounding heartbeat. This was a typical ambience for solo missions, and Ghost was used to being alone.

But lonely? He had forgotten how it felt ever since you barged into his life. And now that the feeling has returned, he forgot just how utter shit it feels.

“We’re sending immediate backup to their position. We’ll meet you there.”

But by the time he and the squadron make it to your position, there are only the remnants of a battle left in your wake. A few unrecognised bodies are slumped against the walls, furniture is overturned, and dried blood paints the floor as a macabre dye. Most - if not all - of this must have been your handiwork, and if it was any other circumstance Ghost would feel proud, but you’re not beside him for him to praise you. That being said, there is no sign of you, and that leaves him optimistic, but the other soldiers seemed to think differently.

“You know, they say Al-Qatala never takes prisoners,” one jittery private said to another.

“What’re you trying to say? I've seen the Sergeant. Breeze is tough.”

“I’m just saying, even if we can’t find their body they’re probably d-”

“That’s enough,” Ghost snaps his head to them, eyes alight with a rage usually reserved only for his worst enemies. His voice is near unrecognisable, more akin to a growl than any human sound. He will not tolerate anyone speaking ill of you or doubting your capabilities as a soldier. He tells himself he does it for your honour, nothing more, nothing less. He disregards the selfish need for you to return to him as it wittles him down to the bone and contorts his face to a scowl concealed under his mask.

The soldiers hurriedly salute before exiting the room, leaving the lieutenant alone, shoulders and chest heaving before he moves to continue the search.

The team returns empty handed, but that means nothing to Ghost. Even as he’s issued new missions he does not falter. He fights with the same brutality, killing his enemy before they can kill him because he needs to return home. Return home so he can organise a covert mission of his own - retrieving you. No matter the rank or squadron that separates you, no matter if you’re shipped out to the other side of this godforsaken earth, you two are a team. Combat has hardened Ghost into a brutally honest man, many would call him a pessimist, but a stubborn voice in the back of his mind refuses to believe that you’re gone. You’ve always been a tough nut to crack, if you weren’t you wouldn’t be dating him. He’s seen you stare death in the eyes only for you to stand back up beside him. And so he faces forward and doesn’t look back. Because until he has to rip off the freezing metal of a dog tag from your neck, he swears on his stone cold heart that you’re still out there. Maybe a little tattered, perhaps even broken, but living.

Call of Duty Masterlist

[faithfulren]

accidental confession

izuku accidentally confesses his feelings for you in a moment of panic, leading to an awkward but sweet conversation.

----

middle school had always been a challenging time for izuku midoriya. as a quirkless boy dreaming of becoming a hero, he often felt isolated and misunderstood. however, there was one person who always seemed to make his days a little brighter, you. your kind smile and encouraging words were often the highlight of his day, though he never quite knew how to express his gratitude or growing feelings for you.

it was another typical afternoon after school. you and izuku were in the library, working on a group project together. the room was quiet except for the soft rustling of pages and the occasional whisper between the two of you. izuku's heart raced every time you leaned in to look at something in his notebook, your proximity making his thoughts scatter.

you noticed Izuku seemed more fidgety than usual, his face slightly flushed as he scribbled notes in his ever-present hero analysis notebook.

"hey, izuku," you said softly, placing a hand on his arm to get his attention. "are you okay? you seem a bit… distracted today."

izuku's eyes widened, and he immediately started to stammer. "i-i'm fine! really! just, um, a lot on my mind, i guess." he forced a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

you gave him a concerned look but decided not to press further. "alright, but if you need to talk about anything, i'm here, okay?"

izuku nodded, his heart pounding even harder. he took a deep breath, trying to focus on the project, but his mind kept drifting back to you and the way your eyes sparkled with kindness.

as the minutes passed, you two continued to work in relative silence. then, out of nowhere, a loud crash echoed through the library. someone had knocked over a stack of books, and the sudden noise startled both of you. without thinking, izuku reached out and grabbed your hand, his reflexes taking over.

"izuku?" you said, looking at him in surprise. his hand was warm and slightly trembling around yours.

realizing what he had done, izuku's face turned beet red, and he quickly let go, stammering apologies. "i-i'm so sorry! i didn't mean to—"

"it's okay," you interrupted, a gentle smile on your face. "you just surprised me, that's all."

izuku took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. he felt a wave of panic wash over him, and before he knew it, the words tumbled out of his mouth. "i like you!"

the library fell silent again, but this time it was a deafening silence. izuku's eyes widened in horror as he realized what he'd just blurted out. "i-i mean, i, um, i like you as a friend! no, wait, that's not what i meant either! i mean, i do like you as a friend, but also more than that, and—"

you blinked, trying to process his rapid-fire confession. a slow smile spread across your face as you watched izuku's panic. "izuku, are you trying to say you have feelings for me?"

izuku gulped and nodded, looking like he wanted to disappear. "y-yes," he managed to whisper, his voice barely audible.

you felt your heart swell with warmth. you'd always thought izuku was sweet and admired his determination, and hearing his confession made your own feelings clear. "izuku, i like you too."

his head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise and hope. "r-really?"

you nodded, taking his hand again, this time on purpose. "yes, really. i've liked you for a while now."

a smile slowly spread across izuku's face, relief and joy washing over him. "i'm so glad," he said softly, squeezing your hand.

the two of you sat there for a moment, just holding hands and smiling at each other, the world around you fading away. it was awkward, it was sweet, and it was the start of something wonderful.

[astayinwonderland]

Do you think we are about to make a terrible mistake? | Zhong Chenle

pairing: chenle x f.reader

genre: besties to lovers | smut +18 MDNI

summary: chenle has been away for a while and you miss your best friend-- however, everything changes when you realise you might actually love him more than a friend

wc: 2.2k

warnings: mentions and use of alcohol, anxiety, consensual sex, unprotected sex (pls no), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms-- lmk if I forgot anything

It’s 15 minutes past 11, where the fuck is he? 

You already texted him twice. You called. The party had already started and your friends wondered if you would make it. Hell, you were wondering if you should just go on your own. But no– you promised you would get there together for old-time’s sake. It’s been a little over a year since Chenle moved out of the country, your days of embracing nothingness together are gone, movie nights are just nostalgic memories, and maybe some words left unspoken. You missed your best friend dearly and even though you often called each other, it was not the same. Not at all. You missed more than his company. You missed his essence, aura, sparkly eyes, smile, and touch… 

Your heart suddenly ached. Were you truly in love or is it just the fact that this is the first time you will see him since he left? The thoughts that rudely invade your brain get interrupted by three loud knocks. Running to the door, you can feel the thundering beating of your heart ringing in your ears. 

“I know I’m late, I’m sorry…. Please don’t be upset–” 

You open the door abruptly and there he is. 

Zhong Chenle. 

Blue 3-piece suit. His hair graciously falls over his forehead, framing his beautiful face. He gives you the brightest of smiles, your heart skips a bit. 

“Don’t hate me. Come here!” he opens his arms to embrace you. 

“Shut up,” you throw your arms around him, and suddenly everything is fine. Time has not passed. 

His nose lowers to your head and he inhales your scent. This is home to him, he can’t believe he’s been away from you for so long. All he yearns is to keep you close, but doing so means having to accept the fact that he is irremediably in love with you. 

Smoke and bright lights danced around the place and the crowd made way for you and the man of the hour apparently. Everyone reaches out to Chenle. Hugs, high fives, praises, and kisses shower him. You can’t help but feel a tad bit jealous. This was supposed to be a fun night for you and your best friend… and your other friends as well. But Chenle is loved, popular, and missed, of course, people would be all over him. You feel silly for suggesting going to the party in the first place. 

You’re snapped back to reality when your body crashes into Chenle’s. His hand is possessively placed around your waist. Your audible gasp makes him laugh. 

“Where did your mind go, silly?” 

“Nowhere, I just wish we were somewhere else. This is not how I envisioned tonight, you know… after spending so much time apart,” you force a smile and feel his thumb caressing you softly. There was something up with him, but to your surprise, you couldn’t read him. 

Chenle closes the distance between you too. He's a little too close, his breath fanning on your face. Is he going to–

“Chenle!” 

Shiny hair, plump lips, white smile. Her manicured hand was already snaking its way to Chenle’s arm. She looks at you, scanning up and down as if she were trying to figure out who you are. 

“Oh, hey! Wh- what are you doing here?” Chenle replies. A kiss on her cheek makes your heart sink. 

Chenle’s eyes go from you to the girl and again to you. He is about to introduce you but you suddenly feel like your heart is going to burst out your chest, your palms are sweaty, your eyes getting watery and your ability to breathe fades as you try to fight the feeling. 

“I really need to go. Sorry– Nice to meet you,” you say politely. You try not to cry as you make your way out. Chenle watches as you leave, but he feels how his chest tightens more and more with each step you take away from him. 

After his third call, you get into the shower hoping that the pain would fade away with the hot water hitting your vulnerable skin. With tears streaming down your face and sobs that echo around your bathroom you finish your shower. You are too exhausted to do anything else but sleep, and your phone has long been forgotten in your purse. 

You think you just blinked but in reality, it is a little past 3 a.m. and the faintest sound coming from your door seems to wake you up. In a panic, you rush and open the door to find a sobering Chenle by your door. 

“...it was about fucking time you opened that door, silly, I’ve been knocking for hours I thought–” 

You cut him off, pulling him in. 

“Chenle what the fuck?” 

He smiles at your puzzled expression. His hair is a bit messy now, blue suit is wrinkled. You can’t help but wonder if anything happened with the girl in the club. 

“I’ve been waiting for hours… I followed you back here but you locked the door. I called you so many times… ” he frowns. 

You go to the kitchen and fetch him a water bottle. As he starts drinking it, you find his eyes searching yours…  Sparks. No. No. This is your best friend Chenle. Nothing can ever happen between you and your best friend. The one who taught you how to ride a bike, tie your shoelaces, and give the best hugs ever. 

“You look so pretty,” he finally says. 

“Drink your water, Chenle,” you sigh. 

“You do!” he insists. 

“Who has she?” and you can’t believe the words that leave your mouth. You weren’t supposed to ask. 

“We did a semester together abroad. She is a good classmate that’s all. I never meant to upset you– you are too important…” 

You weren’t sure where the conversation was going, but Chenle assumed he talked too much. He puts the water bottle down and makes his way to you. Now you find yourself between your best friend and your bedroom door. The hard wooden surface against your back reminds you that once you cross that threshold with him, your relationship will change forever. 

His hands touch your waist, not sure if he has permission to do so, but you welcome him as the drug you need. His lips inches from yours and you pray he will kiss you, but time stops. It’s really only you and him at last like you dreamt of so many restless nights. 

“I’ve been wanting to ask you something since the moment I came back…” 

“Yes?” your voice comes out as a breathless whisper. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

You can’t even wait to answer him when your lips are already on his. His tongue teases yours and your lips part. He tastes of expensive wine, lust, and love. Chenle moans into your mouth and that is it for you. You want every single inch of you to be consumed by him. You reach out to open the door to your room. 

“Please,” you ask. 

“How can I say no to you?” he smiles and kisses you once again. 

Each second you spend kissing him you feel your skin getting hotter, desire coursing through your veins making you dizzy, and then you feel him carry you. Bride style, his lips never leaving yours. He carefully lowers you onto the bed, his hands now exploring your clothed body, the feeling of sparks under his fingertips making the moment intense, and urgent. Little moans and cries escape you both as Chenle helps you to straddle him. Your delicate fingers move his hair away from his face. The most beautiful man is underneath you, eyes on yours, lips parted. His chest rises and falls, you contemplate him for a moment. He takes your hands into his, everything seems surreal, you have spent countless times in this bedroom but not like this—a new territory. 

“Do you think we are about to make a terrible mistake?” your voice is small, you may not want to know what he has to say. 

He shakes his head. His hand reaches your cheek. 

“Do you?” 

Now you shake your head. 

“Good. Then kiss me, silly, and don’t stop unless you don’t want to do this–” but you don’t let him finish his thought and your lips already found his. 

It is then that you finally understand that he needs you as much as you need him. The pieces of clothing now are forgotten somewhere on your bedroom floor. Every part of you reacting to Chenle’s heavenly but sinful touch. His fingers finally take the only item of clothing left, your panties. He lowers himself, eye level with your wet cunt. 

“So pretty,” he murmurs. 

His tongue licks your entrance, ending in your clit which he sucks and your soul seems to leave your body as your back arches for him. Your hands immediately reach your breasts increasing the sinful pleasure coursing through you. You feel one of his fingers slide in you with almost no resistance. That’s how aroused you are for him. You gasp and your hips move, making the feeling of his hot mouth on your cunt even better. With his tongue flat on your slit, Chenle’s hands squeeze your thighs, encouraging you to use his face as you please. Only stopping to spit on your throbbing core, he eats you out so deliciously your soft moans turning louder. Legs over his shoulders now, he adds two curling fingers in you. 

Again and again, he kicks your clit, his fingers working magic inside you, fogging your brain and heightening the urge to cum for him. 

“Fuck! I– I’m–” you can’t think, you can’t speak… and so your orgasm hits you with such intensity you are shaking under him. Your legs turn to jelly. The heavy breathing that follows your cries echo in your ears. Chenle plants one last kiss on your clit and your legs close from the overstimulation. 

He lets out a low-pitched chuckle and the vibration travels straight to your clit again. 

“You okay?” 

You look at him in between your legs. Did this just happen? Your head falls back once more to the pillow. An involuntary laugh escapes your lips. But Chenle knows you, sometimes better than he knows himself he thinks and to him, this moment is making his heart go a million miles an hour. What an honour to have you like this, all fucked out, and all for him. 

Little kisses are planted on your thighs, on your lower stomach, your hands, your breasts, until he reaches your face. You giggle in response. His eyes meet yours, and different from what you thought, you are not embarrassed. You want him more than ever, so you kiss him. 

“More than okay,” you finally replied. 

Reaching south of his body you find his erection already leaking for you. You stroke it slowly, the faintest of moans leaving Chenle’s lips. This is the greatest reward you can get. His breath hitches as your pace gets faster. 

“Aaahhh…” a long, whiny moan. 

“You like that?” 

He nods reassuring you. 

You bring his hips lower, aligning his tip with your entrance. In anticipation, your eyes shut but immediately your jaw falls open when Chenle’s cock begins to stretch your needy cunt. Inch after inch, pleasure builds on pleasure and you silently pray the moment never ends when he starts moving in but not completely out of you. Your nails digging into his biceps, loving the way he stretches you out. 

“Ch-chenle,” 

“I know, I got you,” and he wraps one of your legs around his waist, making his thrusts deeper, his cock dragging against your walls that clench tightly around him. 

“Feels so so good,” your hand goes to his head, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling slightly. 

“Say. That. Again,” he moans. 

“It feels so good”. 

Chenle buries his face in the crook of your neck. Mild sharp pain fades into pleasure when he bites your skin, licking the now sensitive spot to ease the harsh sensation. You pull his hair once more, this time to make him kiss you. And he does, so lost in passion, so lost in you. The kiss is sloppy, messy, perfect. His thumb presses circles on your clit acting as the perfect trigger for your orgasm. You feel climbing higher and higher, his cock twitching inside you, his hot breath fanning on your face, his lips curving into a smile. Fuck, he is everything. 

“Chenle! Fuck… ah!” you cum for him. 

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes,” he repeats as a broken record as he pulls out and cums letting out a high-pitched moan that you will remember for the rest of your life. 

Chenle kisses your face, your hands, and helps you clean up. However, you didn’t exchange a word then. Now, you find yourselves back in bed, still naked. His arm around your waist, your head on his chest. His heartbeat is a love poem itself. 

“You know,” he breaks the silence. “I don’t ever want to say hello or leave without kissing you… I guess what I’m trying to say is–” 

You kiss him. It’s a long kiss, your lips pressed against his. Everything feels just right like it’s meant to be. 

“I really like you, Chenle,” you whisper, somewhat scared of what he will say back. 

“I really really like you too, silly,” he smiles. 

————————————————————-

a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨

I hope enjoyed this :3 ~ masterlist

[astaroth1357]

Flipping the Script: Leviathan Meet-Cute (Human World AU)

So what if you met the demon boys in the human world instead? You’re not magic. You’re not special. You’re an average little human that came crashing into some demons one day. Good luck!

Contents: Pretty new format for me, second person (you), forgive any wonkiness

Part One (You are here), Part Two, Part Three (Coming Soon...)

~♡♡♡~

You’re a hardcore otaku influencer with a niche in creating and sharing cosplay. You’ve befriended a lot of other enthusiasts pursuing your passions, but there was one guy that you met at a recent convention that stood out from all of the rest.

The Seven Lords was just having yet another milestone anniversary, so several friends in your circle all decided to get together and do a group cosplay for the fans, you all were even offered space for a panel and locations for meet-and-greets! Your whole fanbase was ecstatic, and so were you, but there was just one problem…

The friend that agreed to be your Third Lord backed out at the last minute! His baggage was totally lost on the flight there and suddenly your whole group was without a member to complete the set. Though you knew it wasn’t a huge deal, you hated to disappoint your fans who were looking for a full group photo-op…

But then you saw this guy waiting around your hotel lobby-

“I can't believe Wess had to cancel on us…!” You thought to yourself while tapping your foot furiously against the hotel's linoleum floor. You were waiting for check-in last night when your collaborator sent his text to everyone, and your team still hadn’t found a suitable replacement… How could you guys have a TSL photo event without a Lord of Shadows?? Especially when you're the one dressed as Henry! What self-respecting group TSL cosplay doesn’t have those two together?? They're the closest pair in the show! The Sun and Shadow shippers were going to start a riot…

You were all still double-checking your gear and supplies down in the lobby. Months of work had gone into planning and prepping for this event… Your friends were trying to calm you down as best as they could, but your nerves weren’t on your side… You hated letting down your fans, even if it was entirely out of your control. But without a replacement, what exactly could you do? Just as you were about to throw in the towel and get dressed, a bunch of shouting from the hallway entrance caught your attention.

“Why the hell am I stuck carryin’ all your crap, huh Levi?! Ya got two working hands!”

“Because this outfit is heavy, Mam-er-Malcom! I need help, or else I'll get sweaty and gross!”

“You're already gross, so what's it matter?”

“Shut up, scumbag!!”

'Yeesh, what a loud pair...' You turned to look their way with a visible frown to show your annoyance only for your jaw hit the floor. Two men walked out of the hall and into the lobby, one being a dark-skinned male with the whitest hair you'd ever seen, and the other… Sweet kami-sama above, the other guy…!!

He. Was. Perfect!! The dark, shadowy armor, constructed fron what you could only guess was EVA foam and faux furs, combined with his violet hair made him look like the spitting image of the Third Lord! It was almost like the character himself had climbed off the page!! You had to cover your mouth to contain an audible gasp of shock while glancing at the others in your team. Only a few of your friends had noticed the man's arrival, but those who had all shot you back the same kind of look, “Go get that guy. NOW!” Who were you to refuse?

The god-tier Third Lord cosplayer was still arguing with his companion when you first made your approach, allowing you to sneak up pretty close without getting noticed. By the time you were in speaking distance, you were already marveling at the craftsmanship of his cosplay up close. The foam pieces looked flawlessly metallic and there were no patches of hot glue mishaps, frayed stitching, or painting mistakes. It was truly something else!

“Hey, what'cha gawkin’ at??”

The white-haired male caught you red-handed, leading the cosplayer in his company to turn in your direction. Though, amusingly, the moment your eyes met he seemed just as star struck as you were. You wasted no time thrusting your hand out towards him with your most “camera-winning” smile.

“Hi! Uhm, I’m Y/n L/n and I'm-"

“-the most popular cosplay model on Instagram, three-time champion of the WCS competitions, and the host of the ‘TSL Today’ fan podcast-!”

You froze from surprise as the cosplayer slapped his mouth shut with his own hand in a bid to stop rambling. His cheeks instantly tinged pink as he must have realized that he was spitting your own resume at you in excitement. It was hard not to feel a bit flattered at the sudden eruption of joy, so you smiled back more genuinely.

“That’s right! You've heard of me?”

You waited for his response with a patient, maybe even endeared, gaze. Seeing that you weren’t immediately weirded out by his hyped babbling, he uncovered his mouth to respond shyly.

“Y-yeah, of course I do…! I uh… came here to see your meet-and-greet today…”

He winced, face getting hotter, and looked like he wanted to double over from embarrassment, but honestly, you couldn’t have been happier. A creator of THIS caliber was one of YOUR fans?? Talk about a “diamond in the rough” moment!

“Really? That’s awesome!! Because I couldn’t help but notice that cosplay you're wearing… Did you make it yourself?”

How his face recalibrated from flustered to ecstatic in just a few seconds could have made your heart melt. After he confirmed that his cosplay was his own handiwork you began to gush about the design, asking rapid-fire questions about the materials he bought, what patterns he found, and his different sewing techniques. You both were so caught up in each other's passion that you hardly even registered the other guy standing next to him until he finally cleared his throat insistently.

“Yo Levi… This crap’s gettin’ heavy. Are we going or what?”

The cosplayer, who you guessed was Levi, turned to the man reluctantly, which sent a surge of panic through you as you still hadn’t asked him to stay.

“Wait!!”

Both men flinched a bit at your sudden exclamation, making your cheeks flush with color, but you pressed on regardless,

“Um, Levi right? My team and I could use your help… Our Third Lord just dropped out on us today because of baggage troubles and we really need a replacement for the shoot. Your outfit is fantastic! Do you think that you could step into the role for us? I have early access badges to the vendors room, so we can take a look together if that uh… if that…? Um. Levi...?”

The man in front of you looked like he was moments away from breaking down in tears, but somehow holding them back through sheer force of will… and his closed eyelids making a decent dam.

“H-hold on… I think I need to pinch myself because this can’t be happening. Is this actually happening?”

His voice wobbled while the man next to him, Malcolm(?), rolled his eyes behind his gold-tinted glasses.

“Hey, that doesn’t answer their questions, ya know?” He elbowed Levi while looking at you with a serious expression, “Are ya willin’ to take him AND his stuff with ya?”

“Of course! It’s important to have everything while yo-”

“Great. You can have’em.”

You were taken aback just a bit by the speed of his response, but not as much as Levi because he quickly leapt back into the conscious world in a panic!

“Wha-wh-Whaah?? You can’t just answer for me!!”

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders, letting several bags he had on slide to the ground but cushioning the fall a bit with his foot.

“Why not? It’s clear ya wanna go with them. Unless you wanna leave them hangin'…”

“N-No!! I mean, yes! No-er UGH!”

You watched Levi cover his face in frustration feeling a twinge of sympathy. Does he get tongue-tied like this often? After a few seconds to compose himself, he finally straightened up to give his true response.

“Y-yes, I want to go with you…! Being able to help one of your online idols is like a dream come true for any fan! What can I do to help?”

You could feel your smile grow twice as wide from the combination of relief and gratitude. Maybe the shoot would go alright after all…

“Give me your hand.”

Levi stuttered watching you reach your hand out towards his, using your other one to pull out a black marker that you always kept on your person for fans. His skin was soft, but strangely cold, when he rested his knuckles into your upturned palm. The icy jolt even made you jump a bit. Holy crap, was he cold-blooded or something?? When he flashed you a concerned glance, you quickly recovered uncapped the marker between your fingers. With years of built up practice, you ran the black ink over his pale skin, but instead of a signature, you left one of your burner numbers that you used for interacting with collaborators.

“Here. We still need a bit of time to get ready, but that shouldn’t stop you from enjoying the con. Text me your name and I'll send you back where to meet up once we're ready to go.”

Levi was staring at the black marks on his hand like you'd just handed him a key item in a video game when one of your team shouted back from behind you.

“Y/n! Why aren’t you dressed yet?? We gotta go!”

“Shit, I’m coming!” You turned to head back, but you spared just a second to smile at Levi over your shoulder. “Thank you so much, Levi, you're going to be a huge help! Don't forget to text.”

“I won’t!”

Levi's promise made you grin lift even higher. With a wink and a wave, you made your way back to the others with a brand new pep in your step. Mission, saved!!

Meanwhile…

“… Did ya seriously just score a number in that getup?”

“I swear, I’ll never wash this hand again...!!”

“Fuck's sake, Levi, stop being so gross! At least put it in your phone before your sweaty palms wipe it off!”

“Gah, you're right!!”

[hellcat8908]

A Solstice To Heal Azriel x Reader

This is Part Two to A Solstice To Forget

Warnings: slight previous trauma in the form of a nightmare

The snow crunched under Rhys's boots as he ran towards your body. You were cold to the touch, and he couldn't tell if you were breathing. He pressed his ear to your chest, feeling relieved to hear your heartbeat. It was barely audible and fairly weak, but it was still there. That was all the hope he needed before picking you up and winnowing you back to Velaris. Azriel took in the sight of you as Rhys ran towards your room.

Madja quickly set about trying to bring you back. The first thing she did was remove your wet clothes, taking note of the scars on your back as she checked you for injuries. The only condition she was able to treat you for was hypothermia from the cold. She wasn't able to determine what had caused you to collapse in the snow. The fire was going strong in the fireplace, and you were buried under blankets to bring your body temperature up. She stepped out once your heart beat became stronger and continued to improve. "She is resting, which is what she needs most. Her heartbeat is improving, which is a good sign." She says, updating Rhys and Azriel as they were waiting outside the room.

"Do you know how long before she'll regain consciousness?" Azriel asked. "I'm not sure. There is more to her condition besides hypothermia, and without knowing what it is, I can't give you accurate diagnoses of recovery time." Madja tells him sympathetically. "Do you know when she lost her wings?" Madja asks. Azriel and Rhys share a confused look. "Her wings? " Rhys says. "She never said anything about her wings." Rhys says as he goes over every conversation with you in his mind. Azriel doing the same and coming up empty with you, never mentioning them.

"The healer's who tended to her did an impressive job, but she still has the scars. They don't seem like an old injury if i had to guess, I'd say, the last few years." Madja said. "I've done everything I can for now. If her condition worsens, don't hesitate to send for me. "Try to keep her stress to a minimum once she's awake as we don't know what caused her initial collapse." Rhys and Azriel assure her they'll take care of you and call if they need her. Madja takes her leave. "How come she never told us?" Azriel asks. "Maybe she isn't ready to talk about it. Especially if it only happened within the last few years." Rhys said.

"Go home to Feyre and get some rest. I'll keep watching her and let you know if she wakes up." Azriel says. "Be sure to reach out if you need anything." Rhys says, giving Azriel's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I will." Azriel says before gently opening your and shutting it once he's inside. He pulls a chair from the corner of the room and sits beside the bed. He takes in your face, noticing the soft smile on your lips. He starts wondering what you're thinking about. He pulls an extra blanket over himself as he settles in to keep watch over you.

You were lost in the darkness before finding your way back into the light. You were standing beside the lake, feeling soft grass under your bare feet and the warmth of the sun on your face. Suddenly, you realized the warmth not just on your face but on your wings as well. You spread them wide, taking in the beauty of them as the sun shone on them. You quickly took off into the sky, soaring across it with the birds. You swooped down and dragged your fingers along the top of the water. You cherished the feeling of it.

Suddenly, storm clouds moved in with loud crashing of thunder and lightning. In an instant, you were crashing into the ground, your hands bloody as you held your wings. Your beautiful dream had quickly turned into a cruel nightmare. The thunder became your ex's laugh as he watched from the sky as your wings turned to ash in your hands. You fought to wake up, but the weight of your mind kept you under.

Azriel watched your face contort to pain and fear. He gently held your face as his thumbs brushed away your tears. "You're safe with me, I'll never let anyone hurt you again. Please come back to me, to us. We need you." He said softly, watching as you slowly relaxed into his touch. He continued to keep an eye on you, holding your hand. Eventually, the tiredness caught up with him, so his shadows watched over you while he slept.

You were sitting along the shoreline skipping stones like when you were a child. Your thoughts had turned to your found family and the look of hurt and fear on Azriel's face as you had run from the house of wind. You wish you could find him and apologize. You were thinking about how he went out of his way to try to include you but never forced you to feel obligated. He was patient with you, especially when you first started working with him. Suddenly, you felt a pull in your chest. Grasping at it, you find a golden thread leading off into the distance.

You stand and gently trail your fingers along the thread as you begin to follow it. The thread feels comforting and warm, driving you to find out where it leads. You pick up the pace, practically running towards what's on the other end of the thread. "Where are you taking me?" You ask out loud. It almost seems to answer "home." You stop and linger. "Home is not somewhere I wish to be ever again." You state. The thread seems to call you to keep going. You hesitate. A wave of comfort and longing glides along the thread, causing your feet to move again.

You come to the edge of the darkness and see a hazy image. You struggle to make it out. Your eyes squint, trying to bring it into focus. The thread leads to someone sleeping in a chair. Your eyes widen, not just someone, Azriel. Your heart pounds loudly in your ears as tears fall from your eyes. You firmly grasp the golden thread and tug on it. You watch as Azriel wakes up grasping his chest before his attention turns to you. You watch as he brushes the stray hairs from your sleeping face.

"I'm here, Angel. Just keep tugging on that bond. Let it lead you back to me. I have so many things I didn't get to tell you and so many memories I want to make with you." He continues to gently stroke your cheek with his thumb. "Everyone is worried about you and can't wait to see you." He continues. You feel a rush of love coming over at his words. You take the leap and hope Azriel is ready to catch you. Your eyes slowly flutter open as you blink from the bright sunlight coming through your window. Azriel's shadows quickly close the curtain for you. "Welcome back," Azriel says. "You gave us quite the scare."

"How long was I out?" You ask, your throat dry. "Overnight and most of the day." He answers as he hands you a glass of tea the house made for you. "What happened?" You ask as everything seems fuzzy. "You left, and Rhys found you unconcious at some burnt down village in the mountains." Your eyes flash with panic before you feel Azriel's hand on yours. "Angel, you need to try to remain calm." He says softly. "I'm sorry for pushing you to say goodbye to everyone, I didn't realize how you were feeling." He apologizes. "It wasn't saying goodbye to everyone that triggered this." You say motioning towards yourself.you notice you're practically naked under the blankets.

"Azriel, where are my clothes?" You ask, trying not to freak out. "Madja undressed you to get the soaked clothes off of you. "I'll step out so you can dress, I'm sorry I wasn't thinking." Azriel says. "Can you stay and maybe help me? Just pass me my undergarments first. He hands them to you after grabbing them from your dresser. You put them on under the blankets before stepping out of bed. "I just want a pair of leggings and a loose shirt." You tell him before he helps you step into the leggings. Then he helps you into a basic black shirt. "I need to tell everyone something. Do you think you can get them for me? Maybe we can gather in the dining room?"  You ask. "You need to rest. Resting is more important than anything else."

You let out a sigh, "a compromise, I'll rest for 30 minutes, then we gather everyone." You tell him confidently. "Two hours of rest." He counters. "One hour." You respond. "Deal," He says, "by the way, I would've gone 45 minutes." He says with a smirk. You glare at him, only causing his smile to widen. "Anyone ever tell you you're cute when you're mad?" He asks as you settle back under the blankets. "Aww, the spymaster thinks I'm cute." You tease. "Are we going to talk about this?" Azriel asks. "About you thinking I'm cute or that I'm your mate?" You ask nervously. "That we're mates."

"We'll have to eventually." You admit. "It didn't snap for me until today, before I woke up." He looks at you curiously. "It snapped while I was asleep or inconcious. It actually helped lead me back to here." You say feeling a bit embarrassed. "How long have you known about the bond?" You quickly change topic. "Since the day at the river house." He says, "I've always felt a pull towards you. I just couldn't explain it." He smiles as his thumb gently strokes the back of your hand. "Would you accept the bond?" He asks. "Yes." You answer without hesitation. "I want to wait til after you hear what I have to tell everyone before you make a decision, though." You continue.

"Nothing you say will change how I feel about you." He says confidently as he pulls your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. Your heart melts at the gesture. "I hope you're right." You say with a smile. "Alright, times up, start gathering everyone." You announce. He laughs. "You still have 10 more minutes of rest. Don't make me add more time to it." He says with a gentle laugh. "By the time everyone gets here, the 10 minutes will be up." You respond. "Angel, everyone is already here. They've been waiting since Rhys brought you home. Last night." He says as he brushes the stray strands of hair from your face.

"Azriel, please." You almost plead. "Am I such bad company you can't wait to see the others?" He asks, feigning fake offense. "You know I didn't mean it like that." You say as you squeeze his hand. "Alright, Rhys is moving everyone to the dining room for you." He says before offering a hand to help you out of bed. He keeps a hand hovering around you in case you need help as he walks with you towards the dining room. "Are you sure about this?" He asks as you hear the voices from the dining room. "Yes, I'm sure. I figured this was easier than telling everyone individually." You answer with some nervousness in your voice. "I'm right here if you need me." Azriel says, giving you a reassuring smile.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

@kalulakunundrum

@sh4nn

@lees-chaotic-brain