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always-just-red · 2 months

Note

I've been lookin for a writer who takes reqs for lnds 😭 Can i req sfw hcs/one-shot (choose which one u prefer more) for sylus & fem/gn reader?

I remember there was one call for zayne x mc where mc called zayne accidentally because mc was drunk & mc called zayne (accidentally) instead of booking a cab (mc did book a cab but w/ a wrong destination).

Can i maybe req what if the scenario is like that but it's w/ sylus instead? Feel free to tell me if this req is too much or if u wanna decline it, thanks a lot!

My first Sylus fic! Yay! (Don't look at me Rafayel 🥰) Anon your mind is so powerful! This prompt was so much fun to write, so thank you, hope you enjoy!

Wrong Number

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You're having a bit of trouble getting hold of that taxi you booked, but more trouble help is on the way...

Genre: fluff, kinda ends on an angsty note (sorry 😇)

Warnings/Additional tags: drunk reader, some swearing, humour, uses of 'sweetie' and 'kitten', threat of violence/death at the start, a slight bit of suggestion (it's Sylus, ok? He's having ✨fun✨)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Mr. Sylus, please! It was an honest mistake— almost indistinguishable from a genuine protocore, I swear!”

Sylus is lounging back in a plush leather armchair, feeling thoroughly short-changed as he turns about a fake protocore with his fingers. He’s been listening to this noise for almost a full minute, growing awfully impatient, though he did like the last excuse.

“Say that again,” he drawls with a sinister smile.

“It was an honest mistake,” the black-market dealer stutters, tripping over his words. “It was almost indistinguishable from a—”

“Almost indistinguishable…” Sylus confirms. “Almost. Almost.” He’s savouring each syllable— tasting them like wine.

“It would have fooled almost anyone!”

“Almost anyone?” Sylus laughs, and it’s a wicked, dangerous thing. “Well yes, I rather think that’s the point. But it didn’t fool just anyone, did it? It fooled you.”

His smile is gone in an instant, his hand closing around the fake protocore, splintering it with a crack. He drops bloodied, sapphire fragments from his palm, red and blue, red and blue, and they skitter across the hardwood floor like rain.

“Please, Mr. Sylus!” the dealer pleads, desperate. “I’ll do anything! I will! I’ll make it up to you!”

“No, thanks.” Sylus studies his palm as it heals. “I’ve had my fill of fake protocores.”

“Sylus!”

The leader of Onychinus stands, drawing his gun with a customary apathy. Dark energy manifests, twisting around the dealer’s limbs, holding him still, while a lone tendril crawls around his mouth, holding him silent. He’s struggling, but he should know better. He should have known better from the very beginning. With a wistful smile, Sylus levels the gun with his head, and—

Something rings.

His red gaze shoots up, instinctively seeking Luke and Kieran, but they shrug from their station at the other side of the room. The sound is closer than that, anyway. Glaringly more familiar. Sylus’s spare hand goes to his pocket, and he draws out his phone.

“Mmm?” he greets, thumb sliding across the screen as he puts it to his ear.

There’s only one person who calls him at this time of night.

“Where are you?” your voice echoes from the other side of the line.

“That’s a question I prefer not to answer without knowing what motivates it.”

“Wha— Sylus?”

“Yes, sweetie,” he drones.

There’s a moment of silence. “Shit.”

It’s not the reaction he aspires to, but you sound agitated, so he’s going to let it slide. There’s a loud crackle from the speaker, followed by a few, harsher sounds, and he pulls the phone away from his ear, wincing slightly. His eyes are trained on the man at his feet, but he lowers his gun, distracted.

“What are you—” he begins, but then he identifies the sound. It’s a finger— your finger— jabbing away at a screen. “If I didn’t know any better, Miss Hunter, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”

“No…” you deny too quickly. It’s still there: the tapping. Like Mephisto, pecking furiously at a locked window from outside. A few more jabs, and then…

The call cuts out.

Sylus scoffs, looking down at his now silent phone in disbelief. He flops back into his chair, tossing his gun onto a side table before hitting the button to call you back. You know he’s not a patient man, but you don’t pick up the first time, and so he has to try again. He can be patient for you— he tells himself— as he thinks up some creative ways for you to return the charity. Speaking of charity…

His gaze drops to the dealer. “Get out,” he sneers.

The man doesn’t have to be told twice. He scrambles to his feet as his blood-dark bindings retract, practically throwing himself towards the room’s exit. Luke pushes open the door, the intense music of the nightclub beating through the gap, but Kieran’s being less helpful. He steps into the doorway, blocking any escape. He feints right. Then left. Behind the masks, both men are laughing.

Eventually Kieran steps aside. He shoves the dealer the rest of the way through the door as Luke kicks it shut, and they exchange a high-five.

Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose. His call connects.

“Hello?” You’re back. “Finally! Where are you? I don’t see you.”

“Still me, sweetie.”

“Sylus?” you actually whine. It’s adorable. “Why is it you? Go away.”

“No,” he lilts tunefully, and then he’s coaxing: “I want to help you, kitten. Won’t you let me help you? Tell me, who are you trying to call?”

Frustration spills from you— fake, exaggerated sobs tearing themselves from your throat. “The taxi, Sy,” you whine again. “The stupid taxi, ok? It’s not here. It’s meant to be here.”

“Where’s here?”

“Ha!” you exclaim like you’ve evaded a masterplan, and not a casually asked, run-of-the-mill question. “No. Nice try, but no. You wanna help me?”

“Yeah.”

“Then leave me alone!”

With— he can imagine— some sort of theatrical flourish, you deliver your phone a final, decisive tap. It beckons a fateful silence. Sylus brings his phone in front of his face, unmoved by the moment’s gravitas. There’s a pop-up on the screen. Kitten: requesting video chat.

He smiles to himself. Then accepts. “Hi sweetie.”

Your face is lighting up his screen, your cheeks flushed, your brow furrowed, and your eyes sharp with determination. “Why can I— wait, why can I see you? Get out of my phone, Sy!”

“My, my,” he tuts, but he’s smiling still, “look at you— the illustrious Miss Hunter. It is a relief to know the fate of Linkon rests in such… reliable hands.”

“What d’you mean?” you mumble.

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re drunk!”

He chuckles. “And there’s that infamous wit.”

You bite your lip as you ignore him, still fixated on trying to end the call. It occurs to him that you will eventually succeed; even a broken clock is right twice a day. “Listen to me, sweetie. Are you alone?”

His tone is sober enough for the two of you, and your exasperated eyes meet his. “Yeah.”

“Then be a good girl and send me your location. You remember how to do that, right?” He carefully enunciates each word of his plan. “I’ll come and get you, but I need to know where you are. Don’t go with anyone else. Wait for me, ok?”

You’re nodding away, the odd ‘mmhmm’ escaping your lips, but you’re not at all listening. He catches on after a minute. Trails off— realises your gaze is too vacant, and your focus? Wandering. You’re cradling your phone with both hands. His view is interrupted as your thumb passes over the camera; you’re… stroking the screen?

“You’re so pretty, Sy,” you murmur breathlessly.

His gaze softens. He sighs, “You’re pretty too.”

Then you make a sound he’s never heard before: you squeak, the phone’s audio almost cutting out. A blush is spreading through your cheeks, so much darker than the alcohol’s afterglow, and gods he wishes your face was in his hands. The vision is short-lived, however, because suddenly you’re gone.

There’s a circling view of a dark street, split by streaks of white light, as your phone careens through the air. It strikes concrete a moment later, stuttering to a stop, and Sylus’s grimace deepens with each jarring crack. Your screen has gone black, but he doesn’t think it’s broken. He’s face down, apparently— subjected to an unexciting view of the pavement.

“Oh, shit!” He hears you gasp.

Though your voice is far away, your phone is in your grasp again in no time. You’re turning it over, peering down at him, tracing the outline of his face with worry. “Sorry, Sy. Are you ok?”

“I’ll survive.” He raises an eyebrow. “You know, if you wanted to throw me around, you only needed to ask.”

His voice has dropped, and he loves watching you notice. You stand from your crouch with a smirk, bringing him with you— a dark idea in your eyes. “Wanna go again?”

Before he can protest, he’s looking at the back of your head. Your arm is stretched behind you, gearing up to send him on another short flight.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he interrupts, panicking briefly, but you’d never detect it with all your wits about you, let alone none. He’s brought in front of your face again, and you’re frowning oh so sweetly. “I asked you to do something, remember?”

“You told me to do something.”

So pedantic. “What did I tell you to do, sweetie?”

You don’t say anything. There’s a short huff as you blow hair from your face, and then you’re concentrating. You have that look he likes: the one you get when you’re whittling away at your paperwork like a good little hunter. The same stubborn resolve, too, that makes you lean over it when he or Mephisto are conveniently behind your shoulder.

Your location comes through with a ping and his smile widens. He’s up in a heartbeat, telling you he’s on his way— that you did such a good job— and that you need to stay on the phone with him, ok? He spins his fingers as he passes between Luke and Kieran, a gesture they’ve long grown accustomed to and can easily translate.

I'm leaving. Clean this up.

…

“So then Xavier, like— well, you know Xavier— he was all, ‘I’ll tell you later,’ but he never did, Sy! Off he went, leaving Nero and I to do all the paperwork, and I asked Nero, and Nero was like, ‘ask Xavier yourself’, and I was like, ‘I literally just did!’, and he just shrugged, and it’s… driving me crazy, you know? Because where does he even go? Tara and I have this bet going, she thinks it’s because he—”

Your anecdote comes to a sudden stop.

“What does Tara think, sweetie?”

“Shh shh shh! Wait a second…”

You clutch your phone to your chest like it’ll somehow suppress Sylus’s voice. You’re sat, leaning back against a chain-link fence, but you rise as a black car pulls up in front of you. The windows are tinted. You squint, leaning forward to try to look through them anyway.

“I don’t like this, Sy,” you frown as you plant a hand on your hip. “There’s a car here.”

“Oh?”

“Shh!” you hiss again. It’s not the only car parked on the street, but it is the only one alive. The engine purrs and its lights are glowing like angry embers, refusing to be snuffed out by the dark. You take a step closer, then the engine cuts out. You take a bigger step back.

“What exactly are you afraid of?” Sylus asks, his tone so thick it’s practically bleeding through your phone. “Is a big, bad man trying to get you?”

“Well I don’t know what they look like, Sy. The windows are tinted, and I— AH!” you gasp.

A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you from the ground. “Got you, sweetie,” Sylus chuckles in your ear as tell-tale crow feathers settle around you. His breath is hot on your neck and it tickles, turning your panicked shrieks to laughter.

“Sylus!” you squeal as you attempt to wriggle free. You don’t think you’re trying very hard.

The man lowers you back to your feet, but his arms stay around you and he dips his head, resting his chin on the curve of your shoulder. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi.” For a little word, there’s so much fondness.

“Let’s get you home to bed, ok?”

You nod compliantly with a yawn, swaying a little as his arms retract and you’re having to stand on your own again. He chuckles as he steadies you— placing a hand on the top of your head— and you pivot, drawn by the sound. His crimson eyes find yours and they’re dark with something that stirs you, even with your mind swimming and nothing really making sense. You’re not sure of anything at all, except—

No-one has ever looked at you like that before.

And you won’t remember it tomorrow.

“Come on,” he prompts, nudging you towards the car, and you start to walk, though you’re dragging your feet. “I want to hear all of the association’s dirtiest secrets while I still can.”

“Tara has a crush on the new weapon specialist, you know.”

Sylus blinks, then laughs— a tender, comfortable thing. Completely enthralled. “You don’t say,” he beams.

No, you won’t remember it tomorrow.

#🖋rach is actually writing #sylus x reader #sylus #love and deepspace #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #qin che #sylus x mc #sylus x you #lads x reader #lads #lnds #l&ds

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f1fantasys · 22 days

Note

No, because I absolutely love your writing. You write smut so good. So I was think could you write something with Lando where he's reader's sugar daddy and they fuck alot but Lando is down bad for her. (No lando with toher girls, though) With a happy ending, my queen. 🧎‍♀️

Thank you anon, I'm so glad you like my writing! And i hope you enjoy this. Remember, requests are always open.

Whats yours is mine, whats mine is yours

Warnings: heavy smut, swearing, p in v sex, unprotected sex, blowjobs, oral f receiving, fingering, anal.

Lando Norris.

The hot fuckboy you met last year at the Monaco race where you were one of the grid girls. The minute your eyes met before the race started, you knew how the night would end.

It was sweeter because Lando had won the race. He quickly found you as his media duties ended, pulling you into his drivers' room. No words were spoken at first, just intense gazes, both knowing what the other wanted.

What was supposed to be just a one time fuck had turned into 3, 7 and now 12 months of fucking.

You both weren't in the right space for a relationship, so never even mentioned such. You were just finishing uni, starting an internship in Monaco, still trying to make grounds meet, while Lando was in a different city every week, so it made no sense.

You were fine with what you thought was just a one night stand, but you couldn't see yourself fitting into Lando's lavish lifestyle. He tried many times to assure you that he would take care of all your needs, even help you while setting your life up in Monaco. It wasn't until the third time you saw each other that Lando and you made a pact - friends with benefits, though he would continue to help you.

To be honest, you weren't expecting much from him. The sex was incredible, and you'd take it anytime. But he often showered you with lush gifts and expensive items, dropping money into your account without thinking. Normally you'd be opposed to accepting such from people, but the man was an f1 driver, and you were having fun, so you allowed yourself to indulge in everything he had to offer.

You'd text or call here and there whenever he was away, and he'd invited you to a few races as well, so you could use each other as you pleased.

One thing you wouldn't admit to anyone, was how you were falling more and more for Lando each time you saw him recently. You didn't allow your thought or feelings to consume you because you knew he was probably fucking every other girl everywhere he traveled, not so much as even thinking of you.

What you didn't know though was how deep in Lando himself was. The minute he layed eyes on you, he knew he was done for. You were beautiful, had long, lush hair, skin so smooth he always kissed every corner of it, and curves so sexy he'd get hard just thinking of you. He wasn't generous to you because he pity-ed you - no. You deserved everything single beautiful thing on this planet, and he made it his mission to give it all to you. He'd give you the moon if he could. You also didn't know that he hasn't slept with anyone since your first night together. He'd tried, but no one was a good as you, and he found himself comparing them all to you - so before it would get as far as penetrative sex, he would already be walking out or pushing the girl through his door.

Lando wouldn't dare make his feeling known because it would be unfair to expect you to accept his job and his traveling. One year on and you were doing well for yourself - working a full time job, and growing with each step you take. He didn't want to take all of that away from you just for him.

Lando had texted you earlier that he was on the way home from Nice, telling you to go wait for him in his apartment.

While you were waiting for him in his room, you wondered if he'd bring other girls here on the nights you didn't spend together. Would he fuck them senseless as he did you, devour their pussy's like he was a starved man, and moan their name when he came as he did yours?

Your thoughts were interrupted when Lando suddenly walked through the bedroom door. You didn't realize how lost in thought you were that you missed hearing the front door open.

''Hey, you good?'' he asked, seeing your face contorted with confusion. ''Huh? Uh, yeah, sorry, thinking about work'' you lied.

You sat on your knees as he walked up to you and cupped your face, leaning down to lock his lips with yours in a feverish kiss.

His actions had you moaning already, which allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth as he slowly started removing your clothes.

Once you were left in just your panties he pulled back and stripped his own clothes.

You watching in anticipation as he finally took off his boxers, revealing his thick girth, swollen and standing tall.

He smirked, ''Like what you see?'' he asked. You licked your lips, ''So much'' you said, wasting no time in taking him into your hands and pumping him a few times.

It had been a while since you had seen each other so to finally feel your hands on the place he craved you the most, he was twitching uncontrollably in your hands.

''Someones' needy'' you chuckled as your thumb spread the pre-cum all over his tip, watching as his core muscles flexed with every movement.

Lando's breath increased and he couldn't take just your hands anymore. ''Fuck y/n, please'' he begged.

Normally you'd liked to have teased him a bit more, hear him beg a bit more, but honestly, you were just as desperate for him.

You finally leaned forward and took his tip into your mouth, sucking on it harshly as Lando held your head in his hands, guiding your movements.

He slid in as much as you could take, hitting the back of your throat which had you gagging around him.

''So pretty for me, taking me so well'' he whispered as he began to move, fucking himself into your pace at a raw pace.

You held onto his thighs tightly as Lando took full control, using you how he wanted because he knew how much it turned you on.

You already felt your core dripping wet, clenching achingly around nothing, so you crossed your legs and squeezed your thighs together.

The sounds you were making right now were borderline pornographic - Lando was throwing out moans and swear words like crazy, you were moaning and groaning at his relentless movements in and out of your mouth, and then there were the wet, slick and sloshy noises of his dick sliding through your spit which was now running out your mouth and messing your chin.

''Fuck baby, not gonna last long now, where do you want me?'' he asked, as always. When you didn't respond, he knew he was to finish in your mouth.

So he did - Lando's dick was throbbing uncontrollably as he came violently, shooting ropes of warm cum down your throat as his hold on your head tightened. ''Shit, how do you do that, fuck, yes'' he moaned.

''Hmm'' you hummed at the taste of him, slowly working him through his high as he slowly softened second by second.

You pulled off with a pop, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, breath heavy and lips swollen as you looked at Lando, who's eyes were still shut, his own breathing quick. ''Missed that so much'' he said, genuinely smiling down at you, releasing his tight hold of your head.

He now picked you up and off the bed, headed into the bathroom and placed you on the counter.

You hissed at the coldness as wrapped your legs around him and pulled him closer, kissing him with a sense of urgency and desperation, this time sliding your own tongue into his mouth and pulling at his hair.

Lando lowered his lips to your neck, sucking and biting at your sweet spot as you bit on your lower lip, trying to keep your body from trembling since he had barely touched you yet.

''Hmmm Lando, please'' you begged, not sure what for, though quickly releasing a breath when his mouth landed on your left nipple, tugging and pulling at it, showing it no mercy.

Your nails dug deep into his biceps when he rolled your other nipple between his fingers harshly.

When he pulled back to spread your legs open, your breath hitched at seeing a string of spit still connecting his mouth to your nipple, and he smirked too when he noticed it. It might have been a small thing, but it was so hot, and you couldn't help but pull him closer and kiss him again. You fought each other, teeth clashing and biting one another until he finally pushed you back to lean against the mirror.

''Need to taste you'' he mumbled, spreading your legs open again and licking his lips when he saw your glistening core, dripping down your thighs.

You latched your hands onto Lando's hair as he leaned down and licked your juices that had leaked out of your pussy, letting his mouth travel further to place you were eager for him to devour.

As he teased you, taking his time to get there, Lando noticed how your lips were twitching, clenching around nothing, begging for attention. He smirked again, ''I'm home baby, I'm gonna take care of you''

You tried not to think too deep at his words, he probably said that just because of how turned on he was, but something was telling you he meant something deeper, more meaningful.

Though your thoughts were cut off when he finally let his tongue run through your slick folds, slurping up your sticky juices before he found your clit and sucked on it roughly.

''Fuck me Lando'' you said as your legs were starting to close around his head but he stopped your movements by placing his strong hands on them, holding them down and in place.

''Oh I'm gonna fuck you, don't worry'' he said, spit and your wetness already making a mess on his face.

Lando suddenly thrust two fingers through your entrance causing your back to arch from the mirror, gasping for hair as he was already curling them at the right spongy spots, while his tongue still slaughtered your clit.

''Hmmm fuck, not gonna last long Lan'' you managed through your fuzzy brain, pulling at Lando's hair harder than before.

He sped up his movements, edging you on and within minutes you were a shuddering mess above him, releasing your cum straight into his mouth as he moaned at the taste of you, warm and salty.

''Shit Lando'' you said through gritted teeth and he slowed his fingers, eventually pulling them out and licking them clean, eyes darker than usual staring into yours.

It was what he did next though that had you already wet for more. He leaned forward and let your cum drip from his mouth into yours, then kissing you harshly as he lifted your ass off the counter and carried you back to his bedroom.

As he placed you back on the bed, hovering above you, you gave him access to your neck so you could try and catch your breath, get ready for what was to come next.

Your hands roamed his body, memorizing every outline of his muscles, before settling on his girth and sliding it through your folds a few times, lubing it up.

''Gonna be my whore and let me fill you up?'' he whispered, the nickname nothing new for you.

''Please, i need you'' you whined, getting impatient.

''Not gonna be able to walk tomorrow, yeah?''

''Give it to me'' you said, smiling eagerly.

And he did.

Lando slammed into your pussy with a force that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He stayed still for a moment, allowing your body to accept the intrusion, until you nodded your head so he could start moving.

Lando pulled out completely before ramming into you again and again, showing you no mercy, the both of you moaning and on the edge of a high so delicious.

''So fucking tight, taking my big dick so well baby'' he murmured, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth, biting it through his teeth and sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body.

''Lan, please, I'm close''

''I know angel, you can let it out'' he said, because he was trying to hard not to let himself cum before you, though he was shamelessly ready to do so the minute he started fucking you.

''Cum quickly so i can fill you up and fuck a baby into you'' he said, not thinking his words through. Both your eyes widened, but quickly got replaced when your body was suddenly shaking, your orgasm ripping through you violently.

When Lando felt your walls clench painfully around his dick, he went into overdrive, and before he could register what was happening, he was emptying his load into you, ropes of cum milking its way deep into you as it was his turn to be shaking above you.

''Fuck y/n, fuck'' he cooed, both your hearts racing, groaning at the intensity of the situation.

Lando let his weight fall on your body as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, letting him bury his head in your neck.

You shivered as you felt his hot breath fanning over your sweaty sides, the cool air of the night also causing goosebumps along the rest of yours and his body.

You stayed like that for a while, Lando softening still inside of you until he moved and pulled out, both of you hissing at the loss contact. He disappeared into the bathroom to get a towel to clean you up - he always did. Once that was done and you were dressed again you knew it was time to leave even though you didn't want to.

Lando, wearing just his boxers climbed into bed while you sat there awkwardly at the edge of his bed. You wished he'd want you to lie next to him, cuddling each other, but you quickly had to wipe that though out of your head.

''I guess..I'll see you around you said, grabbing your phone off his side table.

''Yeah, I'll call. In town for a bit'' he said, catching your hand and bringing to his lips for a quick kiss.

And with that you smiled and left.

You didn't hear from him for about a week, until the morning he was leaving for Monza.

''How quickly can you get to mine?'' was all he'd texted.

Before you could respond, he sent another one.

''Leaving for Monza in 45, come over for a quick 'un?''

''I'm on my way'' you replied.

He was standing in his foyer, waiting for you, and the minute you walked in he had you pressed against the shut door.

Lando wasted no time in bunching your work dress up and sliding your panties to the side, quickly thrusting two fingers into you as you cupped his face and kissed him roughly.

He bought your orgasm over you quickly, breath harsh on your neck as you trembled in his arms.

You both hadn't even said anything to each other, too lost in getting down to business.

Lando quickly unzipped his jeans and freed his hard cock from its constraints, pumped himself a few times before lining up at you entrance.

He held you by your hips against the door, pushing himself into you quickly, bottoming out, and this time gave you no chance to get used to him - instead he fucked into you hard and fast, the both of you moaning with each thrust as you looked at each other, lost in a wave of ecstasy.

''Lando, uh'' you moaned as you felt him deep within you, your walls clenching around him achingly.

''I know'' he said through breaths, bringing his thumb down to toy with your clit, which in turn sent you into another orgasmic bliss, your liquid gushing on to him like a tidal wave as your body was once again shaking in his arms.

''So good'' you managed to whisper as he increased his movements, chasing his high as he become clumsier and sloppier by the second.

Then he came hard and fast, filling you up with the warm sticky liquid as he chanted your name over and over, leaning down to kiss you, biting on you bottom lip as you both came down from you high.

This time there was no time to clean you up. He kissed you once more before rushing out, leaving you to clean yourself and lock up with the spare key you had, your heart clenching from wanting more.

Your phone buzzed, you saw he'd just put 3000 pounds into your account. That no more excited you though. Money and materialistic things were nothing compared to the life you wanted with all of him. But you still thanked him.

3 weeks later and you knew he was on summer break though he hasn't texted you. You convinced yourself he was probably still out of the country.

Another two weeks had passed with no contact. You missed him so much. You missed the sex, so much. Pleasuring yourself was not remotely close to how Lando made you feel.

Now a whole 5 weeks later and you were so tempted to message him, see where he was. You'd seen on social media that he had in fact been home during these weeks, but you held out because what if he didn't want to see you? What if he was done with you? You don't think you could handle the rejection if you heard the words from his mouth - so rather let it end without any words being spoken.

You'd just finished work and had stopped by a restaurant to get some takeout for dinner. While sitting and waiting for your order you heard his voice. You both looked at each other at the same time, his eyes widening when he saw you. He was with Martin Garrix, who rushed over to you and enveloped you in a big hug as Lando stood there awkwardly before he walked up to you. Martin left to go to the bathroom.

You tried to keep a neutral face, tried to keep the blush off your face. He looked so hot in his tank top and shorts, a necklace gracing his neck, and his lush curls which bounced off in different directions as he ran a hand through his hair.

''Hey'' he said, sliding a hand into his pocket.

You cleared your throat. ''Uh hey, wasn't sure you were back'' you said, pretending you hadn't known his every where-about for the summer.

''Yeah, just been busy'' he said.

It had never been this awkward before, the both of you just staring at each other, not knowing what to say, but a teasy blush on both your cheeks.

Not 10 minutes later and you were riding him in his Mclaren. If someone asked you how you ended up like this, you wouldn't know the answer. All you knew what how good it felt to finally be fucking him again. You were sat on top of him, dress bunched up to your waist, and his shorts half way down his legs as you rode him, hard and fast.

Lando's mouth were stuck on your boobs, showing your nipples no mercy, while you hands ran through his hair multiple times, pulling and tugging at it.

Luckily he was parked in a secluded area, but surely the people walking by could hear the two of you. But you didn't care. Your moans you obscene, while his just sounded sexy as hell, praising you through gritted teeth at how good you were for him, how he missed his slut.

You came at the same time, shuddering and shaking in each others arms as you rode out your highs, Lando finally cupping your face and kissing you like his life depended on it, like he was savoring the moment.

As you stopped moving, you allowed your body to slump forward onto him, trying to catch your breath as he lazily played with your hair.

''Sorry I didn't call sooner'' he said, tucking your hair behind your ears and kissing you gently.

''It's ok. Just don't wait this long. I've needed you, Lando''

''Oh, i can drop you some money now'' he said, moving to get his phone straight away.

It took you a minute to realize what was happening until your brain caught up.

''What?'- No, no, Lando that's now what i meant'' you said quickly.

''No?'' he asked.

You took a breath. ''I mean I've missed you. As in you! Physically'' you said, sending him a wink.

He couldn't keep his own smile in. ''Yeah?''

''Uh huh'' you said, kissing him again.

''Well then, I promise. I'll always tell you when I'm back in town''

''Thank you'' you said, pecking him once more before lifting yourself off him and putting your pantie right again.

Since then, Lando had actually texted you multiple times. He'd even called you. You'd had phone sex too. And as much as you were enjoying all this, you still wished for more.

The next time you saw he showed up unannounced at your house. You'd just been having a lazy Saturday night in, wearing just a robe and nothing else when your door bell rang.

You looked through the peephole and couldn't have opened the door faster. There stood a breathless Lando, eyes dark and intense.

You pulled him in. ''Hey, you okay? Why're you so out of breath? you asked, concern etched on your face.

''Because i ran here. Was forced into going on a date, was halfway through when i realized something''

Your heart clenched at hearing him say he was on a date, but you stood strong.

''What's that?'' you barely whispered.

''I want you. Only you. All of you'' he said, cupping your face, waiting for you to answer him.

''I-What?''

''Dammit it y/n. I want you, all of you. I've wanted all of you since the first day we met''

''Lando'' you said raising your hands to rest on top of his, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.

''I like you, so much, and I want to do life with you'' he whispered, his breath hot on your face.

''Fuck. I like you too Lando, too much. I-I-''

But before you could finish your sentence he crashed his lips to yours. Urgent and feverish, literally taking your breath away as you pulled him closer and moaned into his mouth.

He picked you up by your ass and carried you to your room, dropping you on the bed before hovering above you.

''You're mine now y/n, for as long as you'll have me'' he said, slowly stripping your robe off, eyes darkening even more when he saw you were wearing nothing underneath.

''Fucking hell'' he mumbled, his large calloused hands squeezes your boobs as his eyes stayed glue to them.

''Lando, more'' you begged, beginning to remove his belt and strip his own clothes off.

''Relax baby, we've got all the time'' he said, smirking at you.

Once he was finally left in just his boxers, you slid your hands past them, taking his thick dick and pumping him as his lips found yours again.

''Gonna make you feel good, yeah?'' he asked.

''Fuck, please. Fuck me''

Lando's fingers slid down and rolled through your folds harshly, pinching your clit, before letting 3 fingers enter you at once.

''Getting you ready for me, open for me'' he said, voice thick with his British accent.

He roughly thrust his fingers in and out of you, while his other hand rolled your left nipple between his fingers.

When he was done with your boobs, he moved his whole body down as his fingers still fucked your cunt, and this time he added his mouth into action.

Violently lapping and sucking at your core as if he was starved, while all you could do was let out a series of filthy moans, pulling at his hair.

''That's it baby, go on'' he said, praising you for how good you were doing for him.

Within minutes you were quivering, your orgasm washing through you as you came all over his face and fingers, not slowing his movements until you eventually came a second time, all but screaming his name.

''Lan'' you said between breaths, trying your best to let your brain catch up to what was happening. ''Fuck, so good. I-I, taste you. Need to taste you'' you said, already trying to get out his grip and onto your knees, through he stopped you.

''Later, need to fuck you first'' he said, sternly.

You didn't argue because you were also desperate to feel him fill you up.

Lando shred his boxers off and ran his cock through your folds a few times.

The action had you pussy trying to clench desperately around something.

Just as he was about to push in, he stopped, looking at you with a smirk.

''Wanna try something new?'' he asked.

''Uh huh'' you were quick to reply.

He got shy for literally a second, then his eyes went dark again.

''Anal?'' he asked softly.

Your breath hitched. It had been something you'd talked about but never got round to actually doing.

When he saw you got quiet, he quickly added ''Shit, we don't have to,'' trying to resume pushing his dick into you.

''What-fuck. Yes, I want to'' you said breathlessly.

''Yeah?

''Please'' you said, already successfully shimmying out of his grasp and turning your body around, taking a hold of the headboard as you stuck your ass in the air.

Lando's hands gently ran all over your ass, squeezing your cheeks and giving you a few gentle slaps, just fun, nothing hectic.

''Gonna stretch you out a bit?''

''Ýeah. Do whatever, I'm yours'' you said, biting your lip in anticipation.

Lando leaned down and gave you a few fluttering kisses and his index finger toyed at your entrance for a bit.

He pulled away and reached it to your mouth, letting you suck it and coat it in your spit before he returned it to your hole and gently started to push in.

You held your breath, shut your eyes, not knowing what to expect.

''That's it baby, tell me if you want me to stop'' he said, pushing in some more.

''No, keep going''

Just as he was about half way in, he quickly popped his middle finger into his own mouth before letting that too slide through and into you.

Feeling both of his rough fingers had you moaning, gasping for air, as Lando started to thrust them in and out of you now.

''You're doing so good. How does it feel?''

''Weird. But so good. Fuck Lando'' you said through heavy breaths.

Not 5 minutes later and your cum was gushing out of you with no warning, your body shaking as you held on tight on to the headboard.

Lando leaned down and licked up everything he good, moaning at how good you tasted.

''Think you're ready for me?'' he asked, unable to keep a smirk off his face.

''Always'' you said, turning around for a quick kiss, also leaning down to give Lando's dick a few quick sucks, leaving as much spit as you could, before settling into position again.

Lando lined himself up, holding onto your waist with one hand as he slowly pushed in.

All air had left your lungs as you held your breath. Feeling him slide through you was unexplainable.

The stretch was sore, so bloody sore, but at the same time, just the though of it being Lando who was filling you up turned you on so much that your brain shut the pain out and replaced it with pleasure.

Once he was fully in, Lando stayed still for a couple of moments, the both of you speechless at the feeling, lost in your own dirty thoughts, until you moved forwards and backwards again.

''Fuck Lando, move, please'' you begged.

''Huh? -Fuck, sorr- sorry. Feels so fucking good i just blanked out for a moment'' he said, voice low and raspy.

He started moving, thrusting in and out of you, while you found you voice again and let out multiple lewd moans.

''Fucking hell, you're so good. So tight. I-I-I''m so lucky'' Lando mumbled.

You felt another orgasm approaching hard and fast, your movements slowing so Lando had to take full control now.

''Uh Lando, gonna cum''

''Go on, let it out, that's it baby'' he said, edging you on.

You bit you lip again as you felt your release, washing through your body which felt like jelly as Lando held you up and adored your whole being, praising you to end.

He pulled out completely and handled your body so you were now laying on your back, legs being spread and pushed up by his strong hands before he was thrusting his dick into you again, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it as your nails dug deep into his back muscles, scratching at him, probably drawing blood.

''That's it baby. I know you have more in you'' he said, movements becoming faster and erratic.

You wrapped your legs around him as tight as you could, the new angle having him hit all the right spots in you as you nibbled on his ear.

Suddenly you were having another orgasm, shaking under him as he slowed his movements for a minute, riding you through the mix of pain and pleasure, and once you'd calmed down bit, he increased his pace again, eagerly hunting his own release now.

''Fuck Lando I can't. Too much'' you said, barely able to talk and keep your eyes open.

''One more baby, one more. Together, yeah?'' he said, knowing that although you were saying that, you probably didn't want him to stop.

''Hmm'' was all you could mumble out as Lando's movements were getting sloppy, his dick twitching against your walls, sending you into another orgasmic bliss, with him following you not long after.

You felt as he shot his cum deep within you, filling you up and painting your walls white and both your bodies were shuddering and shivering, fucked out to the core.

He let his weight fall on you, as he often did after amazing sex, and cuddled you as you held him as tight as you could.

The cool air on your sweaty skin had goosebumps raise on your skin again, your body quivering in his arms as he pulled back and locked lips with yours in a tender and loving kiss. Not rough and fast like most of the time.

''You're freezing, let's get you cleaned up'' he said, making his way to pull out of you.

The loss of contact had Lando groaning, and when you looked down at where you were joined moments ago, you stopped him from walking to the bathroom.

''I-Wait!'' you squealed, pulling him back to you.

''You good?'' he asked.

You didn't answer him though. Instead you leaned down and took his mighty girth into your mouth, letting your tongue swirl all around him, swallowing al the juices that coated his dick, before letting him free again.

''Now I'm good'' you said, smirking at him.

'''Fucking dirty menace'' he said, leaning down to give you one final rough kiss before disappearing into the bathroom.

Once you were all cleaned up and wearing one of Lando's hoodies that he'd left in your house last time, you both curled into bed, your legs thrown over his as your head rested on his chest.

You were talking about everything and nothing.

At one point, Lando looked down at you, smirking.

''So does this mean I'm your boyfriend?'' he cheekily asked.

You couldn't help the blush that formed on your cheeks.

''Yes, my love. My boyfriend.''

''Well, I love you, my girlfriend''

You breath hitched. Hearing the words you've been wanting to hear the day you first met made your heart swell with butterflies.

You leaned on your elbow as you cupped his face. ''I love you too'' you said, before kissing him, pouring every bit of the love you felt for him into it.

He kissed you back with the same passion, and with that you dozed off, excited for what was to come, now that you were finally together.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 smut #lando norris #lando smut #lando x reader #f1 fic #lando norris smut #ln #ln4 #lnfour

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surftrips · 8 months

Text

ABOUT YOU | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

request: luke x reader fluff w like an aphrodite!reader? reader is all sunshine and flowers and makes luke all soft/campers teasing luke abt the way reader changed him 🤭

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is probably my favorite luke fic that i've written so far thank u so much anon for sending this request in! writing aphrodite!reader is so much fun, i'm such a sucker for the opposites trope. hope you all enjoy 🤍

You were the human embodiment of sunshine, a real life angel. Gentle, kind, and lovely— in other words, the complete and total opposite of Luke Castellan. He was dark and broody, strong and rough, and not totally unfriendly, but definitely intimidating.

But even if you weren’t the daughter of Aphrodite, Luke believed that you would still be just as beautiful. There was something in the way you carried yourself that had made his heart surrender the second he laid eyes on you. You became the one and only exception in his long list of grievances.

So it came as no surprise to anyone at camp when the two of you started dating, just to the dismay of many of your admirers and a few of Luke’s as well. If there was one thing you had in common, it was your beauty. With his puppy dog eyes and curly brown hair, Luke was a sight for sore eyes, almost as much as you were.

One day, you were walking hand in hand when one of the younger campers accidentally bumped into Luke. On any other occasion, Luke might have started an altercation, but today, he simply smiled and said, “Just be careful next time.” The camper stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked into place as you softly giggled.

“What?” he smiled, looking over at you as the kid took it as an opportunity to run away.

“Nothing,” you mused. “Just that I think you’re getting soft, Luke Castellan.” You poked a finger at his chest playfully.

“What?” he shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

Though he attempts to keep a serious face, you could see the amusement in his eyes. He often looked at you like this, ready to go along with anything you said— no matter how silly or whimsical your remarks.

“Okay, lover boy. Whatever you say,” you shrugged, offering him a kiss on his cheek that instantly causes color to rush into his face. Ignoring that he’s just proven your point, he attempts to hide his expression by seeking solace in the crook of your neck. He would never admit it to anyone, but he often thought his favorite place at camp was the spot in between your jaw and collarbone.

Even though most of the campers were still a little frightened by the idea of approaching Luke, his closest friends were not afraid to speak their minds.

“Dude, you’re like, totally whipped for her,” Percy remarked over lunch once.

“And you’re like, totally fourteen years old,” Luke said.

“I think the fourteen year old’s right,” Chris jumped in.

“Dude! I thought you were supposed to have my back,” Luke throws up his arms in mock aggravation.

The two boys snickered, causing Luke to speak up again. “I am not whipped for Y/N.”

“Oh, sure,” Chris began. “So the reason you’re practically skipping around camp and letting whatever team Aphrodite cabin is in win Capture the Flag is because…?”

“Oh, and don’t forget the constant checking his phone to see if she texted back and sharing his blanket with her at the campfire!” Percy pointed out. “Meanwhile, I’m over here freezing…”

“Maybe,” Luke scrambled to come up with an answer. “Maybe, I was just in a really good mood those days. It could have absolutely nothing to do with Y/N.”

He barely believed the words himself, and Chris and Percy were certainly not convinced. Luke wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to defend himself.

“Dude, it’s okay if you are, she’s literally your girlfriend,” Chris said.

“Hey! I have an idea, let’s ask Annabeth!” Percy declared.

“Annabeth? Why her?” Luke furrowed his brow.

“Because, she’s a girl. And she’s known you the longest, she can give us a real answer,” Percy said matter-of-factly.

Luke thought it over. The young boy was technically right, Annabeth was like a little sister to him. If anyone could tell if he had changed since dating you, it would be her. This came as both a good and bad realization to him, because what if he had changed? Gods, was it that obvious?

Before he could agree to asking Annabeth, the young girl was already at their table. Percy must have called her over while Luke was thinking.

“What’s up?” she asked, sitting down across from him with her plate of food.

“Oh, nothing, just talking about how soft Luke has gotten since he started dating Y/N,” Chris explained with a grin on his face.

“Oh?” Annabeth said, seemingly amused.

“Yeah, we actually wanted to get your opinion,” Percy continued. “Would you say you agree or disagree, that you know, Luke is nicer now that he’s with Y/N?”

Annabeth seemed to think it over for a second. “Gods, you guys are such children,” she scoffed.

“Thank you!” Luke cut in.

“I mean, all of you,” she looked at Luke pointedly. “Why do you care what a bunch of kids think about you anyway? And not that it matters, but you, Castellan, are most definitely whipped for Y/N.”

That shut Luke up immediately, and caused cheers to erupt from Chris and Percy, who were clapping each other on their backs as if they had just won Capture the Flag.

Annabeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say “Sorry, Luke. It’s true.”

Later that night, Luke snuck over to the Aphrodite Cabin to find you. You were surprised when Luke woke you up, it had been a while since he came seeking your comfort in the middle of the night. He used to have bad nightmares, but you noticed he had gotten better since you started dating. You’d like to think it was because of you, but perhaps that would be thinking too highly of yourself.

In an effort to clear his mind, you suggested to go on a walk together. He agreed, and you climbed out of bed as quietly as you could.

You allowed him a few minutes of silence until his heavy breathing had slowed down and his grip on your hand had loosened.

“What’s on your mind, hon?” you asked softly.

Luke didn’t respond at first, distracting himself by tracing the lines on the palm of your hand. You were happy to give him as much time as he needed, placing your other hand on his back and gently drawing circles.

After a while, he did speak up. “Uhm, do you think that I’m, like, unapproachable?”

Your heart sank and you stopped in your tracks. “What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know, it’s just something that’s been on my mind recently.”

“Luke, is this about what I said to you the other day? Because I didn’t mean it like that—”

“No, baby,” he rushed. The last thing he wanted was for you to think you had done something wrong. He wasn’t sure that you could ever do wrong, not in his eyes. “I was just talking to Percy and Chris at lunch today and they were kind of teasing me.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of your boyfriend, Mr. Tough Guy, being teased by a few kids younger than him. “I’m sorry, babe. Continue,” you placed a supportive hand on his chest as you regained your composure.

“They said that I’ve changed since we started dating.”

Though you were an expert in human emotion, there were still times you couldn’t read the expression on Luke’s face. You couldn’t tell if he thought of this as a bad thing, or if he was just curious to see what you thought. You decided on the latter. “Changed how so?”

“They think I’m soft now because I’m always in a good mood and stuff…” he trailed off. Even now, in the dark of the night, you could tell he was blushing.

“Well,” you started, trying to find the right words. “You know, I was just teasing you the other day, babe. I think you’ve always been this way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I think you’ve always been a giant teddy bear,” you grinned, unable to contain yourself. “Luke, you’re not as bad as everyone thinks you are.”

By now, both of you had stopped walking. Ever since Luke arrived at camp, he had been characterized as the tough, stony, and slightly antagonistic guy. All because of a scar he carried and the stories of what he had gone through with Annabeth and Thalia. Many people were still intimidated by him, despite his position as the counselor in Hermes and his job to welcome newcomers. It had been so long, he wasn’t sure if this was the way he was, or the way that he was made to be.

As if reading his thoughts, you said, “You don’t have to be what they tell you to be. Do you know the words I use to describe you when someone asks me about you?”

Unable to speak, Luke simply shook his head.

“Gentle, kind, and lovely.”

Luke wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but certainly nothing close to the words you had chosen. “You do not,” he objected.

“I'm serious, baby,” you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him in until your foreheads were touching. “I think you’re the most wonderful and caring guy I’ve ever met. I think you always have been, you just don’t always show it.”

He stared at you intently before pulling a loose strand of hair out of your face. You kissed the top of his head, “I must be one lucky girl.”

“Hey, if there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s that I’m the lucky one,” he said, before pulling you in for a kiss.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson series #percy jackson #pjo #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson x reader #pjo x you #luke castellan x you

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lampiridaes · 3 months

Text

♬ now playing: "falling for you"

-> don't you see me? i think i'm falling for you (fallingforyou - the 1975)

summary. various hsr men realizing they're in love with you

chars. dan heng , sunday , aventurine , jing yuan

notes. THIS ONE IS FOR U MIZU-ANON (still gonna call u that despite the username change) had sm fun writing this. i am a biiiiig loser for these types of tropes i need to admit it. I HOPE WHEN U READ THIS U ENJOY MIZU-ANON!!!!!! LOVE U <3

contains. fluff, pre-established relationship, spoiler-free, reader is a trailblazer but not the trailblazer, march & trailblazer mentioned (dan heng), 'pretty' used as a compliment for reader (jing yuan)

inspired by -> this post!

track one: dan heng

staying up late talking to you. dan heng tends to pull all-nighters, but he never expected you to join in one time. it was actually a bonding moment—he felt as if you grew closer since that day. it wasn't exactly a deep talk, it was more like an icebreaker. compared to march and the trailblazer, dan heng was much more reserved, so you saw a different side to him that night. one that you ended up seeing more and growing quite fond of.

always turning their head if your name is mentioned. every morning when the express crew gets up and eat breakfast together, dan heng finds himself always looking over whenever someone calls you. "[name], let's share!" march 7th would exclaim, then the black-haired man's attention immediately turned to your direction.

... and when you notice that a certain someone is staring at you, you make eye contact and smile, which seemed to have flustered him a little. ah, he's growing smitten, slowly.

track two: sunday

realizing certain traits about you that he finds endearing, your curiosity being the most prominent one. with sunday being a halovian, you couldn't help but admire his features, namely his wings. yet you were far too shy to ask if you could touch them—after all, what if he were to feel uncomfortable? but, to your surprise, sunday was the one that offered, finally acknowledging your silent wish. his wings were undeniably soft, but also quite sensitive, fluttering away from your touch. at first, you thought you did something wrong, but judging from the light blush on the oak family head's face, you could tell he actually enjoyed it.

realizing he's in a better mood when you're in a good mood. being head of the oak family, sunday has a tough job. and yet, when he sees you smiling to yourself, sometimes even attempting to help him in any way you can, sunday finds an odd warmth in his chest. one he doesn't experience quite often.

track three: aventurine

the first smile you share. sometimes you wonder whether or not aventurine is serious in certain situations. sometimes you wonder if he's even your friend or if he's using you in a gamble you aren't even aware of. but that one fateful day when he met your gaze and smiled, you could feel your heart skip a beat. aventurine constantly wears a confident smirk, one that makes him seem like someone to be weary of. and that smile of his... perhaps you were the lucky one this time.

flirting with you. actually, your friendship as a whole had some... weirdly romantic undertones, but after a while, the both of you sort of started to truly think about the entire thing. was he serious when he said that you were the only person he wanted? were you serious when you said you wouldn't mind it if he kissed you? only one way to find out, no?

track four: jing yuan

getting things that remind him of you. whether it'd be a shiny trinket he figured you'd like, or even an expensive piece of jewelry, jing yuan slowly started gifting you different things quite frequently. and whenever you'd ask, his response would always be, "it looks pretty, just like you."

finding time for you and spending his free time around you. it's no secret that jing yuan is a busy man, being the general of the luofu. and yet, after those hours are finished, or he managed to catch a break in the middle of the day, he always looks for you somewhere in exalting sanctum and ask if you'd like to take a short stroll with him. you answer yes every time.

#★ — you are my literature #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng #dan heng x reader #sunday #sunday hsr #sunday x reader #sunday hsr x reader #aventurine #aventurine x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader

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nerdy-novelist017 · 3 months

Note

i'm so in love with your little bunny series and i'm so glad you're writing for benny! i was wondering if you could write something about reader being a yapper, always talking a lot about things with so much excite and benny finds this the most cutest thing ever, but one day someone says that she's annoying for that, which makes her feel very self conscious and she starts to think that benny might feel the same since he's a very much quiter person, and benny assures her that is not the case? just fluffy and comfort to warm my heart <3 thank you already!

Anon, this is literally the cutest request ever omg!!! Thank you for the request, I had so much fun writing this! I paired this as another one shot for my Benny x Bunny series, hope you enjoy!

Word Count- 2k+

Summary- See request above.

Sweet Talking (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

You pressed a kiss to Benny’s cheek, whispering to him that you’d be right back as you stood and made your way around the bonfire. You pulled Benny’s jacket tighter around you to fend off the chilly evening air on your trek back to the house. The night was still young, the sun having just set an hour ago and these bikers would be up until the sunrise, all having caught their second wind from the race held earlier in the fields. The loudness of the bikes and the sheer excitement from the crowds was something you were still trying to get used to, but you found that you actually liked talking to these people. Once they included you in their conversations and picked topics that you could relate to as well, you found yourself talking a lot more than you ever have in your life. They laughed at your jokes, they called out to you when they saw you approaching, they really seemed to just adopt you into their club. You supposed, in the beginning, a majority of that was from Benny probably intimidating some members into being nice to you, but regardless of that, they still seemed to enjoy your company and your silly stories and random facts – especially the women of this club.

Stepping through the back door, you were immediately greeted by the scent of cigarette smoke and booze, things you were also still trying to get used to. Several members were lounging on the couch, smoking and talking as you passed them on your way to the kitchen. You went to the fridge, opening it and lowering yourself to search for a cold pop for yourself. Voices filtered into your vicinity from the adjacent dining room. Just as you grab another beer for Benny, your ears perked up when you heard your name being said in passing and you froze behind the refrigerator door.

“–She does have a sweet piece of ass on her though,” a male voice, sounding muffled most likely by a cigarette hanging from his lips. You smiled to yourself, biting your lip. You probably shouldn’t be listening to this, but curiosity rooted you to your spot as you tried peeking over the door to catch a look at who was speaking.

“Jesus Christ, you can’t get her to shut up anymore.” another voice replied, much deeper and raspier than the first. “I miss when she would just stand there shaking like a leaf, all nervous and quiet.”

“Would it even be worth it to hit that? C’mon man, she’d gab your fucking ear off during it, totally kill the mood for me.”

Your smile slowly at their words, heart sinking. You should get up and leave, you told yourself. But you couldn’t force your legs to move.

“I’d put that mouth of hers to work on something else,” the first man said, chuckling darkly. You squeezed your eyes shut at the insinuation.

“Don’t know how Benny–boy puts up with it. I’d have to gag her just to hear myself think–”

You stand abruptly, unable to listen to anymore of their hurtful words. Using a bit more force than you intended, you slammed the fridge door shut, the glass bottles rattling harshly inside from the force. Tears stung your eyes as you rushed back through the living room to the backdoor. You paused once you rounded the side of the house, sniffing in order to keep the tears at bay. They were just drunk assholes, you tried to tell yourself. Who cares what they think of you?

But a few traitor tears escaped your lashes at the thought of Benny finding you annoying too. Benny– that quiet, easy-spoken man who you loved with everything in you. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like how you squealed with excitement when you saw someone you knew from across the room. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like when you giggled loudly at jokes told around the bonfire. That quiet man who was your exact opposite.

******

Benny could tell there was something wrong the second you came into view again, your figure illuminated by the orange flames of the bonfire as you moved to sit back down by him. Your hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket, head tucked low. And beside him? It was rare that you didn’t sit on his lap anymore.

You handed him a beer and he tried to catch your eyes because was that tears he saw coating your lashes? But you avoided his gaze, instead curling into his side and that’s how you stayed for the rest of the night, quiet as a mouse, until you eventually tugged on his sleeve and asked if you could go home. The ride home was also weird. You didn’t tap his shoulder and point to things that interested you like you normally did on the back of his bike. You stayed glued to his back, silent.

Benny watched, brow furrowed, as you went about your nighttime routine in silence, the house you shared no longer filled with your usual chatter. He sat on the edge of the bed, wracking his brain with the possibilities of you being upset with him. (The silent treatment was often a go-to method of torture you used when Benny pissed you off) but he was at a loss. Something had to have happened when you left the bonfire. Anxiety spiked through him at the thought that maybe someone had done something to you, but no, you would have told him. He made you promise to always talk to him if someone at the club was bothering you.

You changed into your nightgown and Benny’s heart squeezed at the sight of you avoiding his gaze once again as you turned and began brushing out your pin curls in the mirror.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked, unable to bare another second of your silence.

“Mh-hm.” Came your short reply.

Benny swallowed. You were definitely upset. “You seem . . . quiet.”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say because you’re shoulders stiffened for a moment and he thought you might turn around and throw your brush at him. But instead, you responded in a small voice, “Just tired.”

He frowned. He’d seen you when you were tired, this was something else. He tried a different tactic. “Tell me about your day, Bunny.”

You shrugged. “Not much happened.”

“Well, tell me about it. I wanna hear it.” He tried to catch your eyes as you put the brush down and stepped away from the vanity.

“Well, maybe I don’t wanna talk about it? I just want to go to bed, Benny.” you tried to move past him to go to your side of the bed but Benny reached out gently tugged on the hem of your nightgown, stopping you.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, looking up at you.

You nodded, but still refused to make eye-contact.

“What’s wrong?” he questioned. “Did someone do something to you tonight?”

You shook your head quickly and relief swept through him. “No, no. Nothing like that.”

His hands slid up to your hips and he pulled you closer to him. “Talk to me, Bunny. Please. I don’t understand what’s wrong.”

You swallowed, chin wobbling slightly. “Nothing happened . . . I just–I overheard some guys talkin’ is all.”

He remained silent and you continued hesitantly. “When I went to get a drink . . . they didn’t know I was there. And–and I should have left as soon as I heard them talking but . . .”

“What were they saying?”

You clenched your jaw and gave him a distressed look.

He squeezed your hips encouragingly. “What were they saying?”

“It doesn’t matter–”

“It does to me,” he was quick to say.

“They . . . they were talkin’ about how I talk . . . a lot. They said it was annoying. They were saying crude things about using my mouth for . . . other things.” you said slowly, voice wavering and you looked down in embarrassment.

Benny nodded and breathed out of his nose, counting to ten in his head to cool his suddenly white hot anger which bloomed in his chest. He had worked so hard to get you to feel comfortable around the club, to get you to come out of your shell and now someone had something to say about his girl—his sweet shy girl—talking? “Who was it?”

“Oh, Benny–” You pulled back from him. “Don’t go saying anything to them!”

“Why not?” He planned to do much more than talk to them.

“Because!” you cried, your voice going an octave higher. “That would make it worse! Besides, they’re–they’re right anyway.”

“Right about what?” he asked, bewildered at how they could possibly know you like he did.

“Well, I do talk a lot. A–and I know it can be annoying for someone who’s a lot more quiet.”

“Annoying?” He laughed at the inaccuracy of that statement and you must have thought he was laughing at you because you took a big step back from him, out of his reach.

“I just don’t want to embarrass you,” you murmured, looking down at the carpet below you.

Benny’s stomach fluttered apprehensively. There had been only a few times in his life where he wished he was better at talking, at communicating his feelings. He wanted to console you, to reassure you, that you could never be annoying or embarrassing to him. He wanted to tell you just how much you gave him purpose and helped him in his life. How you were his life. This was one of those times.

He rose from the bed and approached you passively, trying to gather his thoughts. “I like when you talk. When we spend the day apart, I look forward to hearing about your day and what you did and what you saw while I was gone. And when we’re riding and you point to the little things like the flowers on the sidewalk or the sunsets, I like that. I really like that. And when you tell stories, you get so immersed and you start talking with your hands, I like that too. You’re so friendly to everyone, no matter what they look like or how well you know them and that’s one of my favorite things about you. You talkin’ could never embarrass me, Bunny, because it’s one of the reasons I love you.”

Tears welled up in your doe-eyes and he swallowed nervously. “Why are you crying?”

Suddenly, you were pressed so tightly to his chest, face burying into his shirt, hands holding onto him with such grip that Benny stumbled. He recovered quickly, wrapping his arms around your small frame.

“Oh, Benny,” you choked up. “You’re so sweet!”

He wasn’t so sure about that, maybe only when it came to you. He sure as hell wasn’t going to be so sweet to those guys that spoke about you like that. He’d take a trip tomorrow to visit them personally, but for tonight, he belonged to you. He’d discovered that about himself from your relationship, from you. Even though he wanted to do things right when he wanted to, he couldn’t always. That’s what love was, putting others’ needs before your own. And tonight, you needed him, so he would be here.

His hands found your jaw and he tilted your head back to press a kiss to your forehead. “Will you come lay with me and tell me about your day?”

You nod, sniffing and Benny nearly melted at the smile you gave him. That was the smile he’d come to recognize as the one you had reserved for only him. Soft, sweet and totally perfect in every way. He pulled you gently back to bed and relished as you curled up against him. His heart was filled with warmth as he listened to you chatter on about your day and your friends and your thoughts, anything that came to mind. He’d ask questions every once in a while to keep you going, but he mostly stayed quiet, because to him, you were so captivating and cute. You both talked throughout the night, you slowly getting lower and lower into his side until finally falling asleep, your conversation temporarily paused until the morning.

-Tag List-

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit @pomtherine @tranquilty @m00npjm @twisteduniverse5 @justsomewritingblog @nhlfs @thepassionatereader @rebecca-hvnstn @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations @buckysteveloki-me @simsiddy @zablife @sansaorgana @autumnleaves1991-blog @charmingballoon @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @jaiuneamesolitaiire @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey @cynic-spirit @pomtherine @ilovehyperfixating @xcallmetaniax @lovenewfandoms

#Benny loves a yapper #opposites attract #the bikeriders #benny cross #benny cross x reader #austin butler #benny x bunny #austin butler x reader #benny x reader #fluff #imagine #austin butler fandom #little bunny #requests

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sceletaflores · 2 months

Text

where there’s sparks, there’s fire!

pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: you can’t tell if patrick hates you as much as you hate him. every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. but he’s only doing all that to piss you off. you think back to tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. you don’t see it. patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special.

—or: patrick zweig is a slut. you can't stand him.

word count: 4.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), public sex (doing it in a coat closet lmao), more hate sex, swearing, fighting as foreplay, light choking, light hair pulling, degradation, even more hints of mean!reader cause i really do live for that shit, tashi and reader are cute besties always, porn with a little plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: i originally wanted to post a tashi fic next but i realized i don't have any like actual full on plot filled patrick works lmao i felt bad neglecting him and my patrick girlies so yeah. once again had literally so much fun writing this, like i hardcore love this niche!!! i ride so hard for it!!! the tashi fic i'm working on also falls into this category lols and yes this is fourth of july themed and it's late shut up i cannot write fast for the life of me...anyway! to the anons who requested something like this, hope you love it! okay bye mwah xoxo.

Patrick Zweig is a huge slut.

Everyone knows that. He doesn't even go to Stanford but he's still somehow managed to sleep with a third of the girls on campus, maybe even more than a few guys too if the rumors going around are true.

You hate him. Hate isn't even a strong enough word. You loathe him. You despise him. You detest him. Pick any other fancy synonym, the point still stands. You just really fucking hate him.

It blows your mind that someone as sweet and angelic as Art would be best friends with someone like him. Someone who's so obnoxious, so arrogant, so crass. Art’s the guy that goes out of his way to protect you from the gross frat bros at parties, only to bring his very own as a plus one.

Sigma Nu throws a rager every year on the fourth, extending invites to those who are still in Stanford for the summer. The women’s tennis team is always invited, and Tashi always ends up convincing you to go. Well, she’s less convincing than she is more forcing you, but it’s basically the same thing to her anyway. She did your makeup and wrestled you into a Hollister dress, vowing to get you laid as she straightened your hair.

Tashi’s almost more invested in your sex life than you are, constantly hand-picking guys on campus for your consideration. She actually offered up Patrick once when you told her you wouldn’t fuck any of the guys on campus at all. The two of you were practicing, she suggested it as casual as ever while returning your serve. You were so shocked you stopped in your tracks, letting the ball fly right past you. She assured you she wouldn’t mind if you did, that what the two of them had was quote “Nothing serious, he’s just a really good fuck.” and that you should “Totally do it. He definitely wants to fuck you, I can tell.”

You just brushed her off, ignored the way she smirked knowingly at you over the net. Your cheeks burned as you served again, you wrote it off as annoyance. As if you would ever let Patrick Zweig fuck you.

You lost Tashi when she took off to the bathroom, texting you that she’d be a while thanks to a long line outside the door. You were leaning against a wall nursing a half-empty cup of jungle juice when he came up to you. You can’t remember his name, you think it starts with a B. Something like Brandon? Or maybe Brian? One or the other.

He’s Sigma Nu’s secretary, you sit three seats down from him in your economics lecture. Tashi says he has a crush on you, and he’s nice for a frat guy but he’s definitely not your type. He’s been droning on about his upcoming trip to his family's summer house in Cabo for almost ten minutes. You try your best to seem interested, humming and nodding every couple seconds. You’re in the middle of tuning him out when a loud, familiar voice calls out your name.

“There you are!” Patrick Zweig shouts from a few feet away, ugly American flag patterned flip flops smacking against the ground as he makes his way over to you. He’s wearing a bright red button down and white cargo shorts you scrunch your nose up at. He’s tanner than the last time you saw him, legs long and even more toned. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that pretty face.” He coos sweetly, his hand that isn't holding a bottle of Bud Light comes up to pinch your cheek.

You scoff, smacking his hand off your face. “You found me, so you can go bother someone else now,” you say, rubbing your cheek lightly. “Bye.” You press, waving your hand dismissively when he makes no move to walk away.

Patrick grins, unfazed by your reaction, he steps in even closer. “Yeah, I missed you too,” he says breezily, his breath smells like cheap beer and camel blues. He’s just as tall as you remember. He has tacky blue shutter shades resting on the top of his head. His eyes rake over your body shamelessly, lingering on the low dip of your neckline. “Cute dress.”

You ignore him, rolling your eyes before turning your attention back towards Brandon/Brian. He’s silent now, eyes flicking between you and Patrick skeptically. “Are you like, together, or something?”

You laugh loudly, quickly shaking your head ‘No’. Patrick beats you to speaking though, “God no, man.” he says through a laugh, dark curls bouncing as he shakes his head. “I came over here to warn you.” He continues, voice and expression going overly serious like he’s not talking out of his ass.

Brandon/Brian’s brows furrow, clearly confused. “Warn me?” he asks, head tilting to the left slightly. His puka shell necklace makes a small clicking sound as he moves.

Patrick nods his head gravely, clapping his free hand down on Brandon/Brian's shoulder a little too roughly to be considered friendly, shaking him back and forth like a rag doll. “Yeah, best of luck trying to get inside that snatch, man.” he says earnestly, jerking his head in your direction. “Cause’ she’s really fucking picky–”

You whip your head in his direction to cut him off, grimacing in disgust. “You would say snatch, you sick fuck.” you snap, red solo cup crunching quietly in your hand. Patrick just laughs, dropping his hand from Brandon/Brian’s shoulder. Anger stews inside you the longer he looks at you with that stupid shit-eating smirk on his face.

You can’t tell if Patrick hates you as much as you hate him. Every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. But he’s only doing all that to piss you off. You think back to Tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. You don’t see it.

Patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special. Sure, he may feel the constant need to be a horn-dog when he’s around you. That doesn’t mean anything. Patrick’s just gross, constantly making crude comments or lame innuendos. What Tashi fails to see is him making sex jokes around you is just another way he can piss you off. It’s not an open invitation into those god-awful shorts.

Patrick takes a small step back, big hands raising in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Put the claws away,” You try to ignore the way him saying your name in that goddamn infuriating condescending tone makes your cheeks start heating up. Patrick leans his shoulder on the wall next to you, looking down at you with a small grin on his face. “I actually wanted to congratulate you on cracking the top twenty.” He takes a long sip of his beer, head lolling to the side lazily as he swallows. “Lucky number 14.”

You’re not too proud to admit that Patrick is kind of hot, especially in this lighting. He’s objectively a hot guy, and he knows it. All tall and firm looking even in his horrendous outfit. But he’s kind of cute too, in an ass-holey way. His hair's a mess of soft-looking black curls and his ears stick out from his head sort of endearingly. He’s close enough that you can see he’s got a little brown in his eyes, and long lashes. There’s a handful of freckles sprinkled over the bridge of his nose.

His big, strong nose that looks like it could work wonders between your legs. Or at least that’s what you’ve heard from Jen in your chem lab. Maybe this jungle juice is stronger than you thought.

Patrick's smirk widens, wolfish and dirty like he can see what you’re thinking. “That’s pretty impressive.” he continues, his tone a mix of genuine admiration and teasing. "Especially for someone who's always so...busy." He lets the last word hang in the air, a clear innuendo that makes your blood boil all over again.

"Busy training," you snap back, not willing to let him get under your skin any more than he already has. "Some of us have actual work ethic, Patrick. We put in the hours on the court instead of fucking anything that breathes, you know? So we don’t look like idiots that get their ass handed to them on tour by nobody scrubs."

You can feel the heat start to simmer in your stomach, anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface as Patrick's presence continues to grate on your nerves. The tension between you is thick, amplified by the chaotic energy of the party swirling around you. You see Brandon/Brian take a long, awkward sip of his beer as he steps away, turning on his heel to quickly disappear into the sea of bodies crowding the living room. You roll your eyes internally, pussy.

Patrick grins, not deterred in the slightest. “You’ve been keeping up with my matches?” His voice is low and pleased sounding, shiny green eyes slowly getting swallowed by the black of his pupils.

You pause, owlishly blinking up at him in silence. You’ve been caught. Shit.

You can feel the immediate warmth of embarrassment burning hot on your cheeks as you cast your gaze to the floor. “Only when I need to cheer myself up, a losing streak that high is actually laughable.” You mutter to the floor, lightly swirling your drink in your cup.

Patrick laughs loudly, throwing his head back in amusement. “Still thinking about me though.” he says matter-of-factly, a lazy grin taking over his face.

His audacity sends another wave of anger and embarrassment through you, your grip tightens around your cup. "Only because you make such a spectacle of yourself," you retort sharply. "It's hard not to notice when you're crashing and burning so publicly."

Patrick's grin doesn't falter. If anything, it widens. "I'll take what I can get from you," he says, his tone a blend of amusement and something else that you can't place. "But seriously, congratulations. You deserve it."

His unexpected sincerity throws you off, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. It's rare to see Patrick in a light that isn’t coated in sarcasm or sleaze. You catch a glimpse of something genuine in his expression, something that almost resembles respect, and it confuses you.

It confuses you, and it makes something warm start to burn in your stomach. You can’t afford to feel any warm, fuzzy feelings around a guy like Patrick, not if you don’t want to get majorly fucked over the second he gets bored of you.

You don’t know how to react so you do what makes sense, you lash out.

“God, will you just fuck off and leave me alone Patrick,” you say, tone over-dramatic and long-suffering as you tip your head up to the ceiling in annoyance. “I’m trying to have fun.” A lie. The party kind of sucked compared to last years. You were planning on talking Tashi into leaving when she came back, but he didn’t need to know that.

Patrick’s cool exterior finally cracks, letting out a quiet huff of disbelief as a frown starts tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jesus Christ, what the hell is your fucking problem? I’m being sincere.” The playful light in his eyes is gone, replaced by something darker.

You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t such an ass. I know you too well, Patrick.” You say, tone mean and condescending. You know he’s right, on some level, but that doesn’t stop you.

Patrick is silent for a beat, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes you want to start squirming. He lets out a quiet, bitter laugh, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a long sip. You watch the way his throat moves as he swallows, the way his lips look wrapped around the neck of the bottle. You feel a familiar heat start to pool between your legs, thighs clenching involuntarily as your mind envisions something else his slick, pink lips would look good wrapped around.

He drops the bottle to his side, finally breaking the silence. “You know, now I do believe you.” he says casually, swiping his tongue over his lips lazily. “You must really not be getting any dick acting like this much of an uptight bitch.”

You reel back in shock, his words hitting you like a punch in the gut. The wave of fury that sweeps through you is almost tangible, your vision narrowing to a tunnel that begins and ends with Patrick’s infuriatingly smug face. “What did you just say?” you ask completely taken aback, voice low and rough. Your hand twitches at your side with the need to throw your drink in his face, anger and embarrassment lapping white hot flames in your stomach.

Patrick just scoffs, heated gaze not breaking from your own. “You heard me.” He says, jaw set stubbornly. “You need like, emergency dick, or something to chill the fuck out for once.”

You feel your heart rate spike, your free hand clenching into a tight wrist by your side. “You’re a fucking pig.” your voice shakes with anger, you feel sweaty and hot all over. The heat swirling between your legs is persistent.

Patrick laughs, a loud and infuriating sound. “Come on, we both know you’re fucking begging for someone to give you what you need.” He says like it’s obvious, you clench your fist a little tighter. He takes a step closer, voice dropping down to a whisper meant just for you. “I can help you with that. I can fuck all that bratty shit right out of yo–”

You’re reacting before you can stop yourself, hand flying up to slap him hard across the face. The loud crack pierces through the room, loud enough that a few eyes turn in your direction. Patrick's head snaps to the side, the shades resting on the top of his head fly off.

Your heart stops, hands shaking with the realization of what you just did. You expect Patrick to flip out, start shouting and threatening to sue you or whatever else it is that rich people do. Time seems to slow down as he turns his head, and when he looks back at you, there's no trace of anger in his eyes. Instead, they're dark with something else entirely— something that makes your stomach flip.

He licks his lips, a slow, deliberate motion, and then he laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. A clear hand print grows steadily, red and angry on his cheek. "Fuck." he breathes, his hazy eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat.

You’re stuck staring at each other for what feels like hours, the music and chatter from the party reduced down to a low hum as you’re caught under Patrick’s heavy gaze.

He drops his beer bottle on the floor carelessly, hand shooting out to grab your wrist tightly and drag you away from the living room. Your cup falls from your grip, splashing down onto the hardwood in a red sticky mess. You fall into step behind him, letting him guide you into the hallway outside the living room before he lurches to a stop in front of a closed door, ripping it open and shoving you inside. Patrick follows quickly, closing the door behind him and bathing the coat closet in darkness.

It’s a tiny closet, you’re pressed up against too many coats fighting for space on the tiny rack, kicking loose shoes around as you try to find your footing. “Patrick, I–” You start, but you're cut off by a strong hand gripping your forearm and whipping you around. Your back hits the door with a dull thud, you don’t have any time to react before his lips are on yours.

The kiss is the opposite of gentle, Patrick’s lips are almost violent as they move with yours. Your hands tangle in his soft hair, kissing back just as roughly. He hisses into your mouth as you twist the strands in your grip meanly, pressing you into the door harder. His tongue forces its way past your parted lips, claiming your mouth fiercely. He tastes like beer, his fingertips are rough and calloused on your skin, pulling you closer as if he wants to meld into you.

“If you don’t want this, say the word and I’ll stop right now.” He says against your lips, breathless and rumbly. His hands squeeze your hips reassuringly, his own version of sincerity softening the moment.

Yeah fucking right.

“Zweig,” you say slowly, yanking his hair roughly. “If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next ten seconds, I’ll kill you.”

Patrick grins wildly, surging forward to connect your lips again. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt as the two of you kiss, working them open one by one until you get too frustrated and rip the two half-open sides apart. Buttons clatter onto the floor of the closet, Patrick groans into your mouth, breaking the kiss with a huff. “I liked that shirt, dick. You owe me twenty bucks.”

You’re not listening, eyes trained on the bare skin of his chest as everything seems to slow down for a second. Of course, you’ve seen Patrick shirtless before, when he’s on the court and it’s above ninety or when he’s taking up space in Art’s dorm. This feels different, a completely new situation where it’s actually okay for you to stare at the expanse of his torso.

You can’t help reaching out to touch him again— running your greedy hands down his chest, his abs, the sharp ‘v’ cut of his hips that makes its way into the waistband of his shorts. Your manicured nails scratch through the dark hair of his happy trail, you can see the muscles in his stomach jump.

“Fuck,” you whisper breathlessly and immediately regret it. He was already insufferable— all you fucking needed was for him to know how you felt right now. How the sight of his barely undressed body is making your pussy soak through your panties.

Patrick doesn’t even gloat, just uses his tight grip on your hips to flip you so you’re pressing onto the door harshly. He impatiently yanks the skirt of your dress up, wasting no time in hooking a finger on the lace of your panties and moving the fabric to the side for easier access.

You hear him pop the button of his shorts open, his zipper following close behind. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He says, sliding the thick tip of his cock through your slick lips, brushing himself against your entrance teasingly. “I’m gonna make you think twice about bitching me out ever again.” He seals his promise by grabbing your hair and yanking, causing a surprised whine to fall from your lips. His voice is so patronizing, but you aren’t getting mad like you should be. You’re just getting wetter, getting desperate with the need for him to get inside you right fucking now.

You grit your teeth in frustration, exhaling sharply through your nose. “I hate you.” You hiss, grinding back against his hard cock. You gasp raggedly as he starts to sink himself inside you, not stopping until his hips are flush against your ass. “Shit!” Your hands grip the door so hard you’re scared one of your nails will break. The stretch of him burns in the best way possible. You’d never say it out loud, not wanting to inflate his ego anymore than you probably already have, but he’s definitely the biggest cock you’ve taken. Almost porn-star big.

“I know.” He replies easily, hiking your thigh up with his hand as his hips start to pound mercilessly into the meat of your ass, not even giving you time to get used to the thick stretch of him. The loud smack of skin on skin fills the tiny closet easily, you hope to God the amount of clothes shoved in here somehow muffles the sound. The rough denim of his shorts scratches against your raw skin, adding to the sting of his hips.

Patrick was pounding into you in a way that makes you feel every inch of him. His cock felt impossibly big, filling you up like he was carving a place for himself inside of you. The sting in your pussy at the stretch of him is mind-numbing, you think you’d collapse from how hard your thighs were shaking if he wasn’t practically holding you up.

His big hand grips the sensitive skin of your inner thigh hard enough that it’ll probably be bruised by tomorrow. You distantly hope he’s high up enough that your tennis skirt will cover it, because if not it’ll be a hard thing to talk your way out of.

You throw your head back, a strained moan erupting from your lips. Your nails scratch at the paint on the door's edges, raking small lines down the wall. The loud squelch of your pussy’s overflowing wetness every time he sinks back inside you would be embarrassing if you had the mental capacity to care.

“Fuck yeah, keep making those slutty sounds, baby. Want the whole fucking party to hear how good I’m making you feel on this cock,” he mutters, hiking your leg up higher so he can pound into you deeper.

He drops your thigh, sliding his hand up your body and around your throat. You whine loudly, pushing back into his thrusts harder. Guys have tried the choking thing in the past, but Patrick’s hand is the only one that’s felt right. His long fingers curling around your throat like they belong there.

“Shit, fuck- don’t stop.” you mewl, lips parted in ecstasy. His hand squeezes a little tighter, not enough to cut off your breathing, just enough to get your eyes rolling back into your head as your pussy weeps around the thick length of his cock.

“That’s it, taking my fucking cock like you were made for it,” Patrick grates through a groan, gripping your hips and pulling out from your tight hole to spit on where his cock bumps up against your entrance before plunging back in. You jolt at the extra wetness, whining at how dirty it is. “So fucking tight— does it hurt, baby?” he asks in a barely breathless voice, laughter edging his tone. “Is my fat cock hurting your tight little pussy?”

“God– shit, yes!” you sob loudly, cheek rubbing against the wood of the door as you nod your head frantically. “Hurts so fucking good.” You stop caring about inflating his ego, letting moans fall freely from your lips as you get closer to the edge.

“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna come,” he grunts, his rhythm growing sloppy and erratic as his muscles tense. He wraps your hair in his other hand, pulling hard enough to make your neck crane back awkwardly. He leans forward, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I can feel you, fucking clenching up on me so tight,” he whispers, still pounding into you roughly. “I know you’re close. Do it. Come all over my cock like a slut.”

Patrick's hand tightens around your throat as he talks, cutting off your air for just a second. “Patrick!” Your voice sounds weak and strained, your hand coming up to wrap around his wrist desperately.

He pulls out abruptly, dropping your hair from his fist to frantically jerk his cock, burying his face in your neck. You can hear the lewd shlick shlick shlick of your wetness help his hand glide over the skin of his cock quickly. Patrick lets out a loud growl before you feel the sharp bite of his teeth sinking in where your shoulder meets your neck, muffling a loud groan of your name as he sprays hot come over the skin of your lower back and the swell of your ass.

The feeling of Patrick’s hand wrapped around your throat as his come paints your skin has you catapulting over the edge. Eyes rolling back in your head as your convulsing pussy gushes wet over his spent cock.

You drag in greedy lungfuls of air, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “You came first.” You say breathlessly, voice scratchy and hushed. Patrick chuckles against your skin, swatting the tender flesh of your ass lightly.

“Shut the fuck up.” He mutters half-heartedly, nuzzling his nose in your neck in a way that seems far too intimate for what the two of you just did. You don’t say anything.

Patrick eventually peels himself off your back, but the warmth of his body stays wrapped around you as he starts to gently wipe your skin clean. You’re ready to scold him for using some poor guy's coat as a come-rag, but when you turn your head to glare at him he’s using the inside of his own shirt. You wrinkle your nose, but a tiny smile fights its way onto your lips. So gross, you think with a sort of reluctant fondness.

He leans over to fix your panties back over your puffy, abused pussy. Your thighs continue to shake weakly as you try to stand on your own, still unsteady without Patrick holding you up. He gives you a sweet kiss on the back of your shoulder, smacking his lips loudly. You huff out a tiny laugh, pushing away from the door to face him.

You watch him as he languidly gets re-dressed. He looks well-fucked, his hair and clothes are mess, his face is flushed and sweaty. Your eyes trail down to where he’s buttoning up his atrocious shorts.

The fabric around the crotch is darkened with your release, wetness soaking the denim around the zipper and front pockets. You gawk at it, a mix of terror and excitement swirling through your stomach. “You can’t go back out like that.” you say to his shorts, shame burning your cheeks.

Patrick follows your gaze down to his crotch. A pleased smirk plays on his lips when he looks back at you. “I’ll text you later.” Is all he says, zipping his fly and turning towards the door.

“You don’t have my number.” You say, tugging the skirt of your dress down over your hips. You can slowly feel the horny fog leave your brain, leaving you clear-minded and a little panicked.

He cracks the door open, but before walking out of the closet he looks back at you over his shoulder. “Art’ll give me your number. “ He says casually with a small shrug of his shoulder. You suddenly feel sick, wondering how many other people have heard that line before getting completely ghosted.

Patrick must see the negative thoughts running through your mind play out on your face. He gives you an actual smile, one that has his eyes crinkling up the tiniest bit at the corners. “Promise.” He says with a reassuring nod, it’s the most sincere you’ve ever seen him. You bite your lip to stop from smiling at the hope blooming in your stomach, nodding back at him slowly. He throws you one last toothy grin before he’s walking out and closing the door behind him.

You sigh contently, staring at the closed door for a few beats before your phone buzzes to life from where it's laying on the floor. You bend over to search for it, blindly rooting around until you see the tiny display light. The ringing stops before you can answer, when you flip the screen up to check your inbox you have seven missed texts and two missed calls.

Four texts and two calls from Art, and just three texts from Tashi.

arty where are you? i’ve been looking for you are you okay? hello???

tash you know you're not invisible right? everyone saw your little show have fun <3

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini a/n: yes i did change the title leave me lmao love you!

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mattybsgroupie · 2 months

Text

dress | chris sturniolo

contents: fwb; fingering (f receiving); (slightly) exhibitionism; soft dom!chris

- ♡ -

notes: writing chris was hard at first but i had so much fun! i still have another request for him on the drafts - the weeknd anon i did NOT forget you - but i figured id write this one first to get used to it lmaoo it’s so weird let me get my matt back! which btw gonna post a really long one on their birthday and then imma lock in on the pegging request (sturniolo police don’t kill me) it’s super super short but i hope you enjoy it ♡ tysm for over 1k followers, much much love ♡ it’s NOT proofread — i apologize for any mistakes but hopefully they won’t harm the story.

requested by: my dear funny gorgeous smart friend whom i very much love @thepubeburgler

- ♡ -

i couldn't stop laughing. nick had stumbled upon his feet and fallen flat onto the sofa, not making any effort to get up. amidst all the laughter, my hair got caught up in my hoop earrings, yanking my strands forward. “shit”, i muttered, trying to loosen it with my fingers as i recovered from the hilarious sight in front of me.

after a while trying, i realized i wasn't going to be successful in detangling my hair. i headed for the bathroom, turning myself to the reflection in the mirror and bringing my body near the sink so i could see better.

still listening to the chatter outside, i noticed footsteps approaching. they sounded unconcerned, like someone was dragging their feet until they suddenly stopped behind the door.

i heard three sharp knocks and answered “come in”, bumping into chris leaning on the doorframe. he checked me out from head to toe, not saying a word. instead, he simply entered the restroom and chuckled, watching me struggle with my own earring.

“let me help” he said, pulling up the sleeves of his t-shirt and stepping closer, tucking part of my hair behind my ear and cupping my face with both hands. chris quickly sealed our lips on a playful kiss and started to work in undoing my tangled logs, soon popping my hoop back in. he allowed me turn and check in the mirror if he'd done it the proper way, and i nodded as i admired the sight of us both standing there, in that tiny bathroom. i was wearing a long sleeve, knit sweater dress, stripes accentuating my curves and outlining my hips. chris looked handsome as he always does. he had a yellow bandana tying his long hair back and a necklace enhancing his collarbones. i couldn't help but let out a sigh, receiving a giggle from him in response.

both of us noticed how the atmosphere quickly changed, becoming more tense as chris came closer to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his head on my right shoulder, blue eyes piercing me through the mirror.

“you look so good” he whispered in my ear, dragging his hand on my dress while biting on whatever his lips could reach. he saw my nipples hardening, poking through the thick fabric and with a naughty grin, he squeezed my thighs, running his hand upwards until my sweater was above my hips, exposing my panties to him.

chris' fingers brushed over my underwear, teasing my waistband. i held my breath as his digits went down, sneaking inside my black panties. watching chris touching me in front of the mirror was almost pornographic, my mouth hanging open while he kept on groping my skin. i slightly opened my legs, spreading my body weight better and giving him more access so he could drag his fingers through my already folds. chris' lips reached my neck and i threw my head back, letting him mark me as much as he wanted.

he wouldn't take his eyes off me. i could feel he had noticed how my breath got heavier, my chest rising as he decided to increase his pace, quickly rubbing my clit. “eyes on the mirror, ma” he muffled in my ear. ”take a look at yourself, how pretty you are”

“chris-” i moaned, struggling to continue looking.

“do something for me yeah?” he asked and i nodded vigorously - i'd do anything if that meant he'd continue touching me.

chris took his finger out of my underwear, making me groan in frustration. he held back a laugh, wrapping his arms around my waist and taking a few steps backwards, carrying me with him. his back was now resting against the wall and he brought one of his hands to the back of my thighs, giving two light taps, asking me to lift it up.

i had now one foot on the floor and the other hanging as he held my thigh up, soon motioning me so i could step on the countertop while he kept me balanced by holding me in his arms and supporting me with his legs. “let go, babe. i'm holding you” he said, noticing my stiff body, unable to relax in that position.

chris's digits ran across my bare skin and soon reached the spot where they had been before, making me gasp. “shh” he shushed me, “just wanna make you feel good, mamas. nobody's getting here babe, relax f'me”.

i took a deep breath and nodded, acknowledging that chris would never do anything i didn't enjoy. he pulled my panties aside, exposing open pussy to both of us in front of the mirror. chris teased my entrance, two digits pressing on my thigh hole as he pretented to thrust all at once, but only massaging the area before going back to my clit, his circular motions causing me to whimper.

one of my hands went behind chris, trying to get a grip of his hair, but my desperation made me end up tugging on his bandana. he groaned in a playful tone as the fabric came down his eyes, messing up his curls and blocking his vision. i finished pulling the bandana off, putting it between my teeth before returning my hand to chris's hair, pulling and begging him to keep going.

his palm left my waist went up to my breasts, groping my tit before he gently returned to my tight hole, slowly pushing his middle finger inside.

“look how well you're taking me, ma” he spoke, turning my attention to how his finger had completely vanished in me, filling me up entirely. as couldn't even moan because of the fabric in my mouth, let alone speak, i jointed my hips forward, indicating to chris that he could start moving. “so eager aren't you?” i nodded in agreement. i needed him to fuck me.

chris began to speed up his movements, the wet sounds of my pussy taking over the small bathroom we were squeezed into. in one of his thrusts, chris added another finger, stretching my walls in a sudden move. i rolled my eyes and opened my mouth, the yellow cloth i was holding with my teeth falling on the floor beneath me. with my lips now uncovered, my whimpers got louder as chris kept on fucking me. he curled his fingers inside of me, hitting my sensitive spot and making my legs tremble. noticing i wouldn't last long, chris tightened his grip on my thigh even more, leaving a mark that would definitely be purple the next day.

chris shoved his fingers in relentlessly when his thumb met my clit, letting my hips buck forward unconsciously, the friction increasing my pleasure. the knot in my stomach was turning harder to ignore, chris's heavy breathing on my neck made me even hornier while his free hand played with my covered nipples.

“chris- shit!” i whined “chris let... let me cum, fuck!”

“no one's stopping you mamas” he whispered, moving my hair to the side as my moans became louder and louder. “go ahead. don't be fucking loud, everyone is outside. you want them to know i can get you off this quick?”

i was thrown off the edge when chris pulled me closer and i felt his hardened cock being lazily dragged on my ass. i could feel his boner poking me through the cloth when my orgasm washed over me, my chest panting heavily as chris kept his grip on me, holding my body while i came back from my high.

he allowed me to rest, taking my thigh on his hand and gently letting my foot meet the floor again. chris turned me over, letting me snuggle in his chest as i watched him t bake both fingers to his mouth, licking the mess i'd made. “you're so fucking delicious” he said, pulling out of the hug and bending over to pick up his bandana. he quickly tied his long, brown locks into the yellow fabric and unlocked the door after giving me a kiss on the forehead.

“chris! where are you going?”

“outside...?” he said as if it was obvious when he saw my furrowed eyebrows “i'll tell them i was helping you fix your dress or something” he joked and i rolled my eyes, catching a sigh of my figure on the mirror. i looked ruined.

“you're staying over tonight, right?” chris asked and i nodded as i fixed my hair once again, pulling my dress down and covering the purple marks he had left on my legs. “great, you can pay me back later” he clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth and winked at me, leaving the bathroom and closing the door outside.

- ♡ -

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#christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #chris x y/n #dom!chris #soft dom!chris #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo

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monstersflashlight · 6 days

Text

Commission for anon!

Request: Hi! I'd love a ftm reader x multiple monsters/cryptids (dealers choice) where he's a party favor. Love the whole play thing dynamic with free use and impact play (very big fan of pussy slapping). Would love to see how creative you get with it. Same rules as a private play party where everyone knows each other and everything was pre-agreed upon and he's the hosts submissive. I adore your works!

A/N: Hi there! This was very fun to write, hope you like it!

Best. Night. Ever.

Multiple monsters (naga, werewolf, alien and mothman) x trans masc!reader || free use, impact play, sharing is caring, bondage, dirty talk (lowkey), spit-roasting

When your naga friend asked you to be one of the entertainments of the party he was hosting for his Cryptid Club, you were a bit unsure, but after he told you what you were supposed to do, you were completely sold on the idea. Since your transition, you were a bit of a slut, trying everything and anything you could, and this opportunity was priceless to try some... supernatural fun.

You arrived at the time your friend asked you to, but you were surprised when he instantly got to you with a concerned expression. “Hey dude look, I know I told you there was gonna be a few more entertainments, but… they didn’t show. Do you mind being the only one?” You were confused at his words, not really sure what that would mean for you, but also really worried you were going to let your friend down.

“What would that entitle?” You asked, trying to sound reasonable. You were ready to fuck some monsters, nothing to worry there.

“Well… Now you’d be the only one getting fucked, so it can be a lot,” he explained, sounded worried again. He kept biting his lip as his long tail thrashed nervously behind him.

Oh right, human body against a few monster’s dicks. Yeah, could definitely be a lot, but you… kind of liked the idea. All those monsters, all those dicks… just for you? You were almost ready to fall to your knees and offer yourself right there.

“I- I’m okay with it,” you answered, choking on your own saliva when the neediness appeared. You were so wet you could feel the wetness rubbing your thighs.

“You are the best, have I told you that?” He asked, leaning down to kiss your cheek loudly, a hit of saliva that he knew drove you insane but always made you giggle.

“Yes, you have.” You gave him an equally loud smack in his scale-covered face. “So… where do I go?” You looked around, trying to decipher something, but his house looked as normal as ever.

He walked you through everything. He told you more or less how many monsters there would be, half a dozen, but said not everybody would actively participate with you. You were okay with that. You had to be restrained, as part of the sacrifice-to-the-monsters theme, and they could do whatever they wanted with you (within reason), which you were very okay with.

He helped you out of your clothes, groping you every once in a while, kissing your chest scars like he always did when you fooled around, he had a bit of a fixation with your chest. He tied you over a table, legs far apart and arms over your head, presenting yourself like an offering. He kissed your temple and covered you with a silk sheet, telling you the guests would be there in a minute.

The moments of wait were excruciatingly hard, you weren’t one to be quiet or still for long periods of time, and being tied up, ready to be fucked and listening to all voices around… It was driving you insane with excitement and anticipation, your cunt so wet you could feel your juices dripping down your crack.

Someone clapped, and silence fell down upon all. “Hello friends, welcome to my party. I present you our lovely hole-in-one for the night.” There was a chorus of ah’s and oh’s as he pulled the sheet off your body. You felt like the most desired being in the whole universe, all anxiety dissipating in a cloud of desire and heat. “Look at that pretty cunt, all ready for us to play with… who wants to do the honors?” The naga host asked everyone, you shivered, your whole body trembling with anticipation.

You looked around, watching mesmerized all the monsters in the room. There was a magnificent white werewolf, a green alien with fingers so long you could already imagine where those would go, and even a mothman whose antennae were twitching every time he moved. You were more than ready to be ravished.

Some approached, the werewolf chuckling when you groaned at the sight of his huge dick. “Don’t worry darling, I won’t knot you. Not today, at least.” You blushed at the innuendo and looked at him with pleading eyes. “But I called dibs, so I hope you are prepared.” That’s all the heads up he gave you before his big tip was breaching your cunt, you were drenched already, and he slipped inside as you groaned loudly.

He smirked at you, grabbing your hips and going further and further, to the point it was almost painful, but he didn’t care. And you didn’t either, he felt magnificent inside of you. And when he bottomed out, he didn’t even wait two seconds before he was fucking you mercilessly. You could feel the base of his knot hitting your clit at every thrust, your mouth hanging open as your naga friend approached, pinching your nipples until they felt raw and you were about to explode.

“I like your present to us, friend, you did good,” the alien said as he rubbed his dick along your face, slapping your check with it. You tried to catch it in your mouth, but the werewolf fucking you didn’t let you, slapping the outside of your thigh and making you scream. Everyone looked at you at once, and you blushed.

“Such a needy slutty toy,” this time it was the mothman complimenting you, his dick already out of his cock-pocket.

He was rapidly jerking his dick next to your face, which was average size but had ridges and some sort of protrusion at the end that you know would feel phenomenal inside of you. You almost begged him to fuck your cunt instead of your mouth, but you remembered you were just a toy, you had no say on which hole he fucked.

You dutifully opened your mouth and he praised you. “Such a good boy-toy, aren’t you?” Someone else laughed behind him, you could see a shadow of green, probably the alien, but you couldn’t think much about it before your hair was roughly pulled and he started fucking your mouth with intent. You gagged, and he chuckled. “He’s so needy, won’t stop gagging trying to get more of me,” the mothman over you was almost cooing at your messy self, drool going everywhere as you indeed gagged on his dick. Your head was pushed back, his balls hitting your nose as you tried to go further and he pinched your nipples, making you groan around his cock.

Whoever was fucking your cunt, you thought he was the werewolf you saw earlier, responded: “You have to try his cunt later, bro, he’s squeezing me so tight I think I’m going to spill any second.” He pumped a few more times and spilled inside of you, adding to the mess you were already and making you groan indecently around the cock in your mouth.

He pulled back and somebody replaced him, a new cock pressing against your gaping hole, but when you thought you were going to get fucked again, you heard your naga friend saying: “Don’t be shy, slap his cunt, he loves it.” You gagged, trying to pull away from the cock, already anticipating what was going to happen. But the mothman didn’t relent, he pushed further as whoever was on your lower half did exactly that.

Slap.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, your back arched impossibly high as you came. You came so hard and so forcibly that you squeezed the muscles in your throat, making the mothman pull back as he released, painting your face with his sweet come. You kept coming as he rubbed the tip of his cock over your open lips, your brain was so far away that you couldn’t care less.

“Does he always react like that?” The alien asked, jerking himself next to you, his hand already approaching your dripping hole.

“Every single time, he’s a slut with a pretty hole,” your friend responded. You blushed hard, knowing full well that he was right. The alien didn’t think twice before slapping your pussy again, making you cry out so loud that everyone around laughed. You were so sensitive, and it felt so great…

“Please…” Is all you could say before someone else’s dick was inside of you and you were being pounded into oblivion, a new cock being rubbed over your messy face as someone pinched your clit almost painfully. Not two second later you had a naga dick (the big one of the two) buried inside your cunt and the alien’s cock in your mouth. You were used like a monster’s fleshlight, and you couldn’t feel better.

“Slap him again, I want to feel his cunt squeezing me.” He did, and you saw stars. The milky way. The whole fucking universe.

One after another multiple cryptids fucked and probed and groped and played with your body like you were just a toy for their enjoyment. And you were. You wanted to be. And it felt fantastic. Better than fantastic, it felt perfect to be played with by a bunch of monsters.

You ended the night covered in fluids. You didn’t even know how many monsters came in you, over you… You only knew pleasure and desire and complete bliss. You were sated to the point of dizziness, and when everyone left between compliments to the host and you, your naga friend carried you into the shower and cleaned you sweetly. Always the gentleman. Before you fell asleep, his tail nested around your body, you could only have one thought:

Best. Night. Ever.

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azsazz · 1 month

Text

Over Ice

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: I think we could really have fun with the different courts and Illyrian values on a thematic basis but ALSO if the reader is in something very artsy and hasn’t really been into sports and then she’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!! She decides to wear Cass’ jersey to make him mad and when he finally gets a hold of her after the game: *cue innocent shrug* he asked me to!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 3032

Notes: While I work on a plot for an azzy hockey x figure skater au, please enjoy a rhys hockey au 🤪

This was originally an Az idea but I thought it fit better for Rhys bby so here we are. I feel like I've forgotten how to write and this is shit (dont judge me im going thru smthin rn)

_________________________________________

A giant FU stares up at you.

Well, actually, it’s only an F, but it may as well be the former with the way it’s circled in thick, red ink.

Three. Fucking. Times.

Tears sting the back of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. It never feels good, failing, and even if you’d gotten a C+ like you hoped, you would’ve still beaten yourself up over the grade because plain and simple: that’s who you are.

Two months ago, at the beginning of the semester, psychology had seemed like a breeze. The lectures were easy to listen to and intriguing, and you had no trouble following along with the professors’ slideshows as you took detailed notes of everything on the screen. Your assigned readings were completed in a similar state, though they weren’t graded but included important information you’d find on the tests.

Somewhere along the line, your grade slipped, and you don’t remember if it had been between studying for Biology or reveling in your newfound freedom away from your parents, partying and enjoying a true college experience with your roommates.

Whatever happened, the repercussions are hitting you right in the face, the taunting letter you have never seen before on any of your assignments throughout all your years of learning.

If your parents saw this, they would bring the entire house down with their scolding.

It’s not like you didn’t try. You studied, even if the word is a loose term for what material you used. Things started piling up this month, with it being a new semester and all. You didn’t schedule out the time to focus on psychology when the classes you were really interested in—Introduction to Nutrition and Kinesiology—took first and second place for your attention. Plus, with the number of social events your best friends—who are also conveniently your roommates—invited you too, it was almost impossible to say no. Friends are a vital part of the college experience and you were in desperate need of some fun after having spent the summer lounging at home with your parents.

You found a psych support group that met at the library once a week to study together. It wasn’t anything like you thought it would be, a bunch of clueless students with grades similar to yours. All they seemed to want to do with your precious time was bitch and moan about the professor instead of actually trying to conquer the areas of study for the upcoming test.

And now the consequences of your actions have made themselves known.

Grumbling, you shove the test into your binder before shutting it with a snap that does nothing to ease your frustration. A few students still trail from the room, though most bolted right after being released. Some linger at the bottom of the lecture hall where the professor sits, answering their questions.

You have about a million-and-one of your own but you’re too worked up about your grade to go down there and hash it out with Mr. Hybern. His peppery colored hair is perfectly coiffed on this terrible day, his beard trimmed close to his jowls. His gleaming, golden skin makes you think that maybe he’d spent his weekend grading tests out in the sun, and you have half a mind to stomp your way down the stairs and demand a second review of your test.

It wouldn’t solve your irritation, and it would certainly be embarrassing if in fact your F is correct.

Placing your binder, notebook, and pens back into your bag, you zip it, sling it over your shoulder, and make your way to the exit, holding your chin high because if there’s one thing you’re not going to do, is cry over your terrible, awful grade in public.

The waterworks will just have to wait until you’re locked in your private bedroom in your shared dorm.

There is good news. It’s Friday, which means you can snag the pint of your favorite ice cream that your roommates won’t dare touch because ‘no ice cream that’s worth it should have fruit in it, that’s like asking for a steak on your spaghetti.’ You have no idea what Mor—one of your roommates—was on about when she brought up the awful comparison, and in reply all you’d done is scooped out a chunk of cherries embedded into the creamy, pink goodness and stuffed it into your mouth.

With it being the weekend, you can also wallow well into the night without having to worry about hiding your puffy eyes in the morning. You’ll have all day tomorrow to figure out a plan of action, once you allow yourself the time to properly grieve and process…and maybe have a drink or two.

You shoulder through the heavy lecture hall door with your head down, hiding the red stain to your cheeks. So, maybe you’re not going to hold you head high as you trail back to your dorm, but you will not cry.

The door swings open and you barely catch the noise of surprise before you’re barreling into something that’s akin to a brick wall. Your breath leaves your body in a whoosh and your balance slips out from under you, arms flailing as you fall.

You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for impact, but it never comes.

Slowly, mortified because you know exactly what’s cushioned your fall, you peek your eyes open, carefully meeting a sapphire gaze that surely would take your breath away should you have any left.

This close, you can see the perfection of his angular features: a long, straight nose, high cheekbones under the dusting of pink that caresses his own face. His lashes are dark as charcoal, the same color of his hair that looks as soft as silk.

Whatever it is that has you entranced by his beauty, the sentiment seems to be mutual. Those bright eyes trace across your features, carefully drinking you in. You don’t know if you’re thankful that your face is already as red as the marker on your test or if you want him to see the way your cheeks go molten.

There’s a warmth against your hips that you don’t notice until he speaks, his hands that have a solid grip around you, keeping you steady to his chest. His whispered breath brushes across your lips. “By all means,” he teases softly, “Take your time.”

“Oh, my Gods, I am so sorry,” you squeak, rolling off his chest. You can hear his chuckling as you scramble to climb to your feet, but your knees are so weak at the sight—and touch—of the most handsome man you’ve ever seen lifting gracefully to his feet, holding a hand down to help you up.

You try not to notice just how big his hand is in yours, and for the second time today, you fail.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” he says, displaying an easy grin that makes your heart stutter in your chest. The door opens with a loud click and the both of you startle. His hand comes down warmly on your spine, ushering you out of the way of the student that’s beaming grin falters into apology at the idea of almost running you down, already on the phone with someone and gushing over their test result.

It’s hard to reign in your glare.

The student’s conversation seems to jolt the man out of his stupor. He blinks, shaking his head as if to rid him of a spell you might have cast on him, or maybe he’s testing to see if he has a concussion from the fall.

When he returns his attention to you, it takes everything in your power not to melt into a puddle beneath that gaze.

“Is Mr. H still passing out tests?” he asks, and you swallow the sourness that accompanies the name of your professor. You and he are not on good terms right now, not that this boy knows that.

“Yeah,” you answer, remembering you saw him sitting on his throne (desk chair) with his loyal citizens (students) kissing his feet (talking through their tests). “I think so.” Then, because you’re pretty sure you would remember a face like his if he were in your lecture, you ask, “Are you in this class?”

“No,” he answers with a scoff that tells you he breezed by this class. “I took Psych 101 freshman year, but I have Professor Hybern again for Cognitive Psychology and I need to turn in my paper early.”

Turning in a paper early? What is he, some kind of genius?

“Oh,” you answer lamely, “Cool.”

His answering grin cracks open the casing of the butterflies you didn’t know were living in your stomach, taking off in a flurry of emotion.

He shrugs like he couldn’t really care less about any of it, but to you, the fact that he’s managed to pass Psych 101 at all is an impressive feat, though you don’t know why he’d sign up for even more torture. “Sure. Look, I’ve got to run, but are you sure you’re okay?”

It’s nice of him to ask if you’re okay when he’s the one who had his back painted to the floor only moments ago. “Yeah, I’m fine, but I should be the one asking you that. Are you okay?”

His laughter is rich and warm, and you want to melt into it. Before you have the chance to make even more a fool of yourself in front of this handsome stranger, he answers. “I’ve been checked harder, darling. You have a nice day now.”

“Thanks, you too,” your words trail off as he catches the door on its next outswing, ducking inside without waiting for your response.

Jeeze, he must really be in a rush, then.

It’s when you exit the doors to the psychology building that you curse yourself. You should’ve gotten his number, his name at least. You could’ve invited him over for something more distracting and yummier than the ice cream you’d planned on demolishing.

At least you have something better to think about tonight than your test.

With a heavy sigh, you allow your backpack to fall off your shoulder. Now that you’ve arrived back to your dorm, you’re suddenly feeling more exhausted than ever.

The walk home from class had been nice, your time spent thinking about the boy you’d run into. The broadness of his shoulders you didn’t seem to notice until he turned away, stretching wide beneath his tight t-shirt. The bulge of his biceps beneath said t-shirt, flexing as he pulled the door open for himself. The shape of his ass in those snug jeans.

The sight of that is what had your eyes nearly popping from your head. What’s he doing that gives him such a bubblicious ass? Squats? Lunges? You can do those. You choose not to, but if there’s a guarantee that you’d have an ass like that, you’d start right this second.

Tucking your lip into your mouth in concentration, you plant your hands on your hips, making your way to the refrigerator that your ice cream is housed in, lunging your way there.

It’s not that far, the communal space in your shared dorm is small, but your heartrate is elevated by the time you’re two lunges away from your prize: your ice cream.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Mother!” You shout as the voice of your roommate breaks your concentration. Your knees wobble and your thighs shake, unable to hold you up from the burst of exertion you used. You clearly need to get into the gym more, another thing to add to your already busy schedule. “You scared me!”

Mor rolls her chocolate-brown eyes, sliding into one of the stools at your counter. It’s not built for it, the laminate countertop doesn’t hang over the island far enough for your legs to fit, but you and your roommates thought they were cute, nonetheless. You can suffer having to hunch over your knees to reach your cereal bowls in the mornings in favor of having more space for company to sit.

When you haul yourself off the ground, you take in your roommate. She’s wearing some kind of jersey, one you’ve never even seen in her wardrobe before, and you probably spend more time in there than her because she has every item of clothing you could ever imagine. The top she’s wearing now totally clashes with everything that screams Mor: silk scarves, tight bodice tops, leather pants, and what she has on now isn’t even red, a color that’s a staple in her closet.

“Well, if you were paying attention,” she scolds playfully, flipping open the compact in her hand, checking her makeup in the tiny mirror. She makes a few faces that would make you chuckle if you didn’t notice how she looks like she’s ready to go out, and that means she’s going to try to drag you with. “You would’ve heard me walk into the room. I am wearing heels, you know.”

Of course you know. Mor doesn’t do sneakers, only when it’s five in the morning and the sun is still sleeping, the perfect time for working out where nobody will catch her. Maybe I should join her, you think, mind wandering back to that boy’s butt.

“Why are your cheeks all red?” She asks, planting her palms on the counter and leaning towards you, eyes narrowed in inquisition.

“Nothing,” you wave her off, reaching for the door to the freezer. It’s the last thing between you and the cherry chunk ice cream calling your name.

Before you can open it more than an inch, it slams closed, Mor’s sharp, bright red fingernails splayed out to stop you.

Damnit, how does she move so silently?

“What do you think you’re doing?” You question each other at the same time, biting back your smiles at the mistake.

She answers first. “Why do you look like you’re about to get the ice cream, put your pajamas on, and wallow in bed all night?”

“Because that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” you cross your arms over your chest defiantly. “So, if you’ll excuse me…” You trail off, hoping she’ll step away and leave you to your peace.

She doesn’t. That’s not Mor.

“I had a rough day!”

“You say that every day,” she whines, stomping her heel-clad foot. “Don’t you even want to know what I’m inviting you to tonight?”

“From the look of your clothes, no, I don’t want to know what you’re doing tonight, Mor, and no, I don’t want to join you, either.”

Your roommate scrunches her nose, tipping it towards the ceiling. “I’ll have you know that this outfit is cute.”

“Yeah, if the definition of cute changed to ‘not pleasing or appealing to look at.’”

“You take that back,” Mor shouts, full naming you.

As your lips part in apology, because that was rude of you, your other roommate pads out of her room. Her reading glasses are perched up on her nose, blue eyes round and wide, and it always looks like she’s looking around the room in wonder. She has a blanket thrown over her shoulders and looks every bit of cozy you wish you were.

“Gwyn,” you sigh in relief at the sight of her. “Please, help.”

“I already said no,” she offers you a sympathetic wince. “I don’t think there’s any getting you out of the hockey game, sorry babe.”

Now it’s your jaw that falls to the floor. No, it falls through the floor and about five more floors down, hitting the lobby with a crack that echoes through the building.

You whirl on Mor. “Hockey game? Since when have you been interested in hockey?”

“Since my cousin got named team captain this year,” she says smugly, and you don’t know why she’s acting vain, it just means that he’s captain of the douchebags now, even you know that. Mor turns, showing off the back of her jersey. The number one stands out like a beacon, and you brush her blonde hair over her shoulder to read the smaller patches spelling out what is in fact, her family name.

Cunningham.

“Think of all the parties we’ll get into,” she says over her shoulder, and she does have a point there. The athletes at your college are a group of students that you don’t ever interact with, nor do you care. Mor is all about connections though, and if she wants to go to the hockey game, then it looks like you’re going with her.

You wonder what excuse Gwyn used to get out of it. She looks mighty comfy right now, slinking over the plop down on the couch and turn on a movie.

“Why do we have to go to the game? Can’t we just go to the parties?” You ask, grasping for anything to get out of this. You don’t want to go sit in the cold arena and watch a bunch of guys wearing full-body padding slide up and down the ice. Why couldn’t her cousin have been on the baseball team? They have nice, tight uniforms.

“Because,” Mor emphasizes with a glare, spinning to face you once more to give you the full effect of her irritation. “I’m a good cousin, and if we don’t attend the games, we’re going to be blacklisted from the parties,” she grumbles, the fight leaving her a little bit. “I’ve already argued about it with Rhys, I don’t want to have to argue with you too.”

It’s with your sigh that Mor brightens. “Fine. I’ll come with you, but I’m not going to be happy about it. And don’t expect me to cheer.”

Her squeal pierces the sound barrier. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

Mor grabs your hand, dragging you towards the empty single room that’s left in your dorm. She uses it as an extension of her closet until someone else gets placed with you. So far, you’ve been lucky, living here since freshman year, just the three of you. “Great! I got you a shirt!”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

#rhys x reader #rhysand/reader #rhysand x reader #rhysand #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #acotar au #rhysand hockey au #over ice

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bananayuyu · 20 days

Text

Cabin Fever [part 2]

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: fluff and smut

Word count: 9.7k

Summary: The third day of your trip brings a storm, and even more cramps. You try to navigate the day the best you can, but really you just need to be taken care of, in the way it matters most.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, fingering, period sex, use of a condom, reader has really bad cramps again, some mxm (Seonghwa and Hongjoong)

A/n: I have had such a fun time writing this part, thank you all for the response on part 1! I am falling in love with this cozy world and wish I could live in it for real. Thank you so much to the anon who requested a part 2! I hope you all enjoy <3

Taglist: @pautiny27 @kierraperkins3 @yoonjikim @luvbit3z @pancake-freckle

I'm definitely planning on continuing the series for a while so if you want to be tagged for upcoming parts, let me know!

You can read part 3 here!

You stretch over to find your phone, unhooking it from its charging cable. The light is dim through the window, the room looks almost hazy. Squinting at the screen, you see a missed text from Seonghwa asking if you're doing okay, sent an hour ago.

"It's almost 11:30, we should really get up," you yawn, poking Yunho in the ribs to get his attention. He has once again wrapped himself around you tightly, face buried in your hair, and you're not sure if he's even awake.

"No," he groans, his voice low and gravely. It send a shudder through you, and all of the feelings from last night surface again. You can already feel the pains starting in your lower abdomen, the muscles cramping. You wish it could be night already and he could be making you feel good again.

"We can't just stay in here all day," you say, much as you sort of want to. But you also don't want to waste a day of your time with all of your other friends. Yunho just groans, not wanting to agree with you but knowing you're right. He's just so asleep still, so in the haze of sleeping next to you. He really just wants to stay like this, forever.

"Okay, well, I really have to pee," you say, giggling, peeling yourself off of him. He lets out a small sound of disappointment but doesn't stop you. You turn around and see his tousled hair, his puffy, sleepy eyes. You lean down and place a quick kiss on his temple before making your way to the bathroom, another pad in hand.

The cramps hit you again when you're sat on the toilet, and you double over, feeling light-headed. It doesn't seem like you're bleeding quite as hard as yesterday but you still feel awful, despite all of the restful sleep you got. You gingerly clean yourself up, holding onto the counter as you stand, pausing for a moment so you don't pass out. You sigh, trying not to feel the frustration. But it's hard not to.

When you open the door you are met with Yunho, his messy hair now covered up by his hoodie, his eyes still very sleepy.

"Sorry for taking so long," you say, assuming he really needed to pee. You aren't paying attention, the cramps overwhelming you.

"Hey, look," he says as you start walking past. When you do finally look back you see that he's brought you pain meds and a glass of water. Your face softens immediately.

"Oh, thank you," you say, taking them immediately.

"Are they bad today?" he asks, a hand on your cheek. You just nod. "Go lay down then."

"I wanna hang out with everyone, though," you pout, looking at the floor.

"Well, go lay in the living room then," he suggests.

"Okay," you mumble, heading that way with your glass of water in hand. He watches you walk away, an obvious discomfort and weakness in your body, and it makes his chest hurt. When you were friends in high school he really only saw you on your good days, when you were feeling okay. It wasn't until living with you that he really saw the worst of everything, the truth of your health issues. You never spoke of them often, never truly explained it to him. Living together had forced you to, and when he showed himself to be genuinely good at caring for you, you'd let him in a bit more. He knew you didn't like the idea of people seeing you at your sickest. He never gave much thought to the idea when he was younger, that some people's bodies are wracked with issues from the start, that they never get to know what it's like to be able to rely on your body to carry you through everything. You were so young; though you were the same age as most of the rest of the friend group, you'd always been seen as the baby. He certainly always thought of you as small, in need of protection. He didn't want to tell you that, because he knew you'd hate the idea. It didn't help that you were smarter than most of them, when it came to the practical and academic aspects of life. You were far more mature in many ways. But they had the healthy bodies; they were the ones who were able to move out at eighteen, to become financially independent. It would take you many more years, and two very supportive friends to live with you, before you could move out.

When you make it to the living room you plop down next to Ari and San, snuggling under a blanket. The cabin was colder than you expected, the sky outside still dark.

"Has it been like that all morning?" you ask Ari, staring out the window.

"It was actually raining for a while earlier, it just stopped maybe thirty minutes ago."

"Oh really? No wonder I slept in so long," you reply, sighing into the warmth of your blanket.

"Are you doing okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, but I still feel like crap," you say, frowning. Sipping your water you try to relax, try to get your mind away from how terrible your lower abdomen feels.

"Do you need any pain meds?" she asks you, her face showing obvious concern. Even San is turned towards you and looking worried.

"No, no, I just took some. Thank you though," you respond, squeezing her hand. "I should probably eat something though, I'm starving."

"I think Seonghwa and Hongjoong are making some lunch, I'll go get you some," San replies, standing up.

"Oh, you don't have to," you start, taken aback by the kindness of this almost total stranger. But he walks that way anyway, not stopping at your words.

"He's so freaking nice, what the hell," you say to Ari.

"I know," she laughs, shaking her head. "I almost can't believe it's real sometimes."

"Men just aren't usually like that," you say, and right then Yunho crosses the room, making brief eye contact with you. He heads towards the kitchen, looking like his mind is set on something.

"The guys in our friend group are," she replies.

"Well, that's true. I guess I should say, straight men aren't usually like that, especially if they aren't romantically interested in you," you clarify. "At least not in my experience in the world, and I barely interact with men or go out in public."

"I know, the amount of horrifying behavior I saw at college is crazy. And even now still at my work. I know so many people tried to warn me to be careful around men when I was growing up, but I did not realize just how scary it would be to be in the adult world and have a uterus," she replies. She looks at you, earnestly; how nice it is to have another girl in your group, who understands what it is to exist in the world in your bodies.

"Uteruses should be banned," you say, placing a hand on your stomach. "This thing needs to get the hell out of my body."

Ari laughs, the bright sound raising your spirits. "I would have taken it out for you myself years ago, if I could," she laughs, resting her head on your shoulder.

"What just, reached up inside and like, pulled it out?" you laugh.

"Girl, your mind goes to the strangest places. Now I can't get that visual out of my head," she laughs, a hand coming to rest over her eyes.

"I wish I could do it myself," you reply, "just like-" you reach your hand down and spread your legs, miming the action; you both break into giggles.

"What was that?" Yunho asks as he sits down next to you, a cup of tea in hand. He holds it out towards you, careful to hand you the handle so you don't burn your hands.

"Y/n just being her usual self," Ari replied, still laughing. Yunho just looked confused, sipping at his own cup of coffee.

"I was showing her how I'd remove my uterus, if I could. I wish someone could just reach up in there and take it out," you clarify.

"You should make Yunho do it, he's got big hands," she says.

"Ari!" you shriek, crumpling into a heap of laughter with her. Yunho's ears go red, and he clears his throat to try to calm himself.

"You two are something else," he says, turning away, looking for anyone else to make conversation with.

"Wait, did Yunho make you that cup of tea?" Ari asked you, and at the mention of his name his attention stayed put.

"Yeah," you reply, not sure why she's interested. "He makes me and Hwa tea and coffee like all the time."

"That's sweet. See, we're so lucky to have these boys. He's the perfect example of a straight man who has no romantic interest in you, but still takes care of you."

You know she means it earnestly, from the way a small smile creeps onto her lips, making her eyes crinkle at the corners. But you and Yunho both stop dead in your tracks, your throats simultaneously going dry.

"Yeah, true," you say, trying to be normal. Like this morning, when Seonghwa found you in bed together. The words come out rough and you try to swallow, but it hurts and your eyes squeeze shut for a moment. You take another sip of your tea, trying to appear calm.

"What, Yunho, did I say something weird?" Ari asks, and you look over to see his stony face, his eyes looking almost distant. Something about it makes your heart drop, for a moment, and you don't know why. Something in you begs for him to act normal too, but you realize there's no point. No point in pretending like nothing happened, even if you don't know what it means.

"I need to tell you something," you whisper to Ari, your face just inches from her ear. She leans even closer, clearly excited by your tone. You drop your volume even lower, putting your hand over your mouth to block the sound from going anywhere else. "Last night he like, fingered me."

"What?!" she asks in a whisper, her eyes going wide with excitement.

"Shh, please keep your face normal," you beg her, knowing that isn't possibly going to happen. But you don't want everyone to find out this very second, you'd like it to stay between the two of you. Ari does her best to still her face, knowing you don't want to draw attention. At least it's fairly normal, for the two of you to share secrets. The boys have always respected when you two say something is just for your ears.

"Yeah I was like, hurting last night and he like, made me feel better," you whisper, you both breaking out into giggles.

"Girl," she says, clearly wanting you to continue.

"I'll tell you everything once there's not like twenty people in the room with us," you say, a goofy smile not leaving your face.

"Aww," she says poking your cheek, and you swat her hand away, jokingly rolling your eyes. Ari keeps looking between the two of you, observing the way his body seems drawn towards you even as he sits a bit away, his legs stretching out to meet yours. She has so many questions, seeing as you'd never mentioned having a crush on him. His crush on you had been obvious to her for a while, but she'd never really mentioned it. It always seemed that people in the group had crushes from time to time, due to everyone's closeness. But sometimes they passed, sometimes they came to nothing. It was one of the reasons your group of friends had stayed close for so long; no one really forced closeness or forced information out of one another. Sometimes she felt like it made you less close than you could be. But she knew it also meant no one felt stepped on or smothered.

***

After lunch was served the weather had cleared a bit, and Jongho suggested that everyone play a game of basketball out on the small court to the south of the cabin. Not one of you had plans for the day, and with the way the weather was behaving that was definitely a good thing. You and Ari laid on the couch together, barely overhearing the conversation unfolding. You knew even if you wanted to you couldn't go and play, and the warmth of the couch was a lifesaver against the damp coolness in the air. The rain was not unusual for the time of year, but you swore it never had been this cold during your cabin trips.

"Will you stay inside with me?" you asked her.

"Of course. I wouldn't leave you alone in here. Also, I don't really feel like getting hurt today. You know how competitive they all get," she laughs, holding up her arm and showing you a large cut on the underside.

"My god, what's that from?" you ask.

"Wooyoung pushed me when we were playing waterpolo by the falls, and I scraped my arm on one of the rocks."

"Of course it was him," you chuckle, taking a closer look. "Did you wash it out yesterday?"

"It's not really that deep, but yeah. I'm sure it'll heal quick. I just really don't feel like playing basketball on a wet, slick court."

"And it's so cold, I don't know why they feel like going outside."

"It's not that cold," she says, looking at you confused.

"Wait, really?" you ask. She shakes her head. "Ok well for some reason, I'm freezing."

"One sec," she says, getting up and taking a blanket from the other side of the bed. "Y/n is cold," she says to the group, pointing to you all curled up in your one blanket. Everyone grabs their remaining blankets and one by one, layer them on you.

"This is too much," you whine, but you can't deny you like the attention. You really appreciate the way they all joke around with you; it always makes you feel better.

When all of the boys headed out to play, you finally got a chance to tell Ari everything.

"Your periods are still that bad?" Ari asks you when you tell her how you were feeling the previous night. "You hardly ever mention it anymore."

"It's just, so normal at this point. I guess. I don't know, you know it isn't fun to talk about. Plus this one really has been extra bad. I haven't had one this bad in a while," you respond.

"Well I'm glad he was there to comfort you. You know you could have told everyone how you were feeling yesterday. You didn't have to pretend like you were fine at dinner."

"I don't know, Wooyoung's cousins are here and so is San, I don't really know any of them," you say.

"Let me assure you, San would not care. And I doubt Woo's cousins would either, I mean we've been around them before, they seem very kind. He wouldn't bring them around you if he thought they'd be weird about something as simple as that. I know Woo acts like he doesn't give a shit about anything, but he really cares about you. I overheard him asking Seonghwa this morning how you've been doing," she replies. You look at her tenderly, thankful she shared it with you. As much as you wish Wooyoung would just ask you, you know it's not his way. It warms your heart to know he cares.

"So, how long have you liked Yunho then?" she asks you.

"Dude, I literally don't know. I don't even know what I feel right now," you sigh, shaking your head at her. "I mean, he was really just helping ease my cramps, cause I basically begged him too. And I get fucking horny on my period, I don't know." You put your head in your hands. "I don't even know what words were coming out of my mouth last night."

"So is it just a sexual thing then?" she asks.

"I'm assuming that's how he feels, I mean he's never said anything to the contrary."

"No, I mean for you," she clarifies.

"I.. I don't know. I don't hook up with people, but he's like, one of my best friends, I-" you cut yourself off with a groan, head spinning. "I'm gonna develop feeling for him and he's not gonna feel the same and we live together and it's gonna be a fucking mess," you blurt out, your mind racing out of control.

"Y/n, that man loves you," Ari says, squeezing your shoulder.

"I know Ari, I'm not saying he'd be an asshole about it. But it would still be so awkward for me, and if you love someone platonically that doesn't just change overni-"

"No, he's in love with you," she cuts you off.

"He's said those words to you?" you ask her, incredulous.

"No, but it's obvious to anyone with eyes," she says. You squint questioningly in her direction, feeling like she's just saying what she thinks you want to hear. "Dude I'm serious, Seonghwa has told me about it, the way he is around you. If he's not in love with you then I don't know what it could be."

"He's dated like multiple people since we've known him though, that doesn't make sense," you reply.

"Not since moving in with you," she says. "Has he ever brought any girls over to hang out with? Or to hook up?"

"No," you say, head still spinning.

"That's not because of like, a house rule or something, right?"

"No, we talked about it, we're all okay with bringing people over. Hwa brings over guys sometimes. Well he did when we first moved in, not really this past year."

"But Yunho never has?" she asks again.

You shake your head. "That doesn't mean anything, Ari. He's barely even spoken to me this morning, anyway. He doesn't seem like he's in love. Seems like normal Yunho to me."

"He brought you tea," she says, smirking.

"Oh my god, he always does that," you say, rolling your eyes and also smiling. "I- I don't know how to feel."

"Would you do it again?" she asks. You nod. "Do you like, really really want to do it again?" she continues, making you laugh.

"Yeah," you say, hiding your face in your hands.

"Well, at least you know that. Don't stress about it," she says. "It can just be a fun little thing, it doesn't have to be life changing."

You sigh, soaking in her words. You know what she's saying is absolutely right; it's the kind of advice you'd probably be giving her if the tables were turned. But something about your night with Yunho meaning so little doesn't sit right with you.

"Can you please not tell anyone, not even San? For right now, I don't know what Yunho wants to say," you plead.

"Of course, you don't have to worry about that. I don't share things with San just cause he's my boyfriend, I don't think that's fair to my friends," she responds, hugging you.

"I'm so thankful you're here," you say, sighing comfortingly into her embrace.

"Me too. I love them all but they can be a lot," she says, and you both chuckle. Tucked into your layers of blankets you feel warm and cozy, and your chest feels lighter having told someone about your previous night.

***

Close to 3pm, the storm rolls back in to the area; the winds pick up, the clouds darken, and suddenly rain is pouring down. It sounds like the roof of the cabin is being repeatedly pelted with golfballs, the dull sound surprisingly loud. Suddenly all of the boys are sprinting back inside, their wet shoes squeaking on the tile of the kitchen floor. All of them are thoroughly soaked, their hair sticking to their foreheads, clothes stuck to their bodies. They tumble in one after the other, Wooyoung the last to make it in, and you hear his scream all the way from outside. When they finally get inside they all start undressing, their clothes heavy and cold.

"Didn't realize we were staying at a strip club," Ari says, making you laugh. You know they're just uncomfortable, but you can't help but stare at Yunho as he disrobes, his light blue shirt dripping on him as he heaves it over his head. You don't really see him shirtless like this, even though you live together. He's not one for walking around like that. You'd forgotten how broad he really was, how strong his shoulders are. As he goes to ring out his shirt in the sink you see his tricep flex, and the smooth muscles of his back as well. He's tall and lanky, but you'd forgotten just how muscular he was too.

"You're kind of gawking, just so you know," Ari whispers in your ear, making you jump.

"Oh my god, I'm gross," you groan, burrowing your head in her shoulder.

"No not gross, not gross at all. Fuck, every time San is shirtless I want him to fuck me immediately." You glance over at Ari's boyfriend, already anticipating the muscles you're about to see. You could tell even when he was clothed how built he was.

"How often is at the gym?" you ask.

"Basically every day. He can like, easily pick me up and throw me around. And I'm not exactly the lightest person in the world."

"If that's not everyone's dream," you say, giggling.

"Can't Yunho carry you?" she asks.

"Yeah but I'm basically like a sickly little worm, it's not that hard. Even Hwa can lift me," you laugh,

"Okay, well, he can still lift you. And how big is your height difference?"

You just smile at her question, knowing you are blushing.

"God, if we aren't the most simple of women," she laughs.

"No no, I'll have you know I'm very full of logic and feminism and I do not care about muscles, or height, or anything of the sort. Never in my wildest dreams have I thought about how tall he is in comparison to me and gotten all hot and bothered about it," you joke, your blush having moved to your cheeks too.

"So you have thought about him like that!" she exclaims.

"Keep it down!" you chide, when you see Seonghwa shoot a look over at the two of you.

"Sorry, sorry," she laughs, pouting at you. "What are you looking at?" she says to Seonghwa, who rolls his eyes.

***

After the boys had changed and dried off, Wooyoung insisted that everyone watched a scary movie. You were all stuck inside, and everyone had already spent the morning talking and catching up.

"'It matches the vibe of the storm," he said. "It'll be so fun," he laughed, smirking in your direction. He knew how you couldn't handle jump scares and didn't like gore. He promised you the movie he'd selected didn't have either.

"It's more like, a psychological thriller, you know? It's really fun. Set in a cabin in the woods too."

"Okay, fine," you replied, hoping he was telling the truth.

He was, in fact, lying. You found that out about twenty minutes later.

The loud bang made you jump, causing you to launch sideways and grab onto the closest thing to you. It happened to be Yunho's arm.

When everyone sat down, Yunho sat himself right next to you, but didn't say a word. Everyone was chatting, the room filled with chaos as they came down from the adrenaline rush the storm had caused. Ari got up to sit with San and help him dry off, and when Yunho saw you sitting alone he was almost thankful. He didn't know why, but everything Ari had said earlier made him feel almost jumpy. He had seen the two of you giggling and whispering to each other, and felt like something was happening that he didn't understand. When he approached you your face looked distant, and he almost worried you didn't want him there, that you would have preferred her. He sat with his arm around the back of the couch behind you. But when you didn't lean into him at all, didn't seem comfortable with it, he pulled it back down to his side.

"Woo, you promised me!" you whisper yelled after you jumped, your grip on Yunho so strong it almost hurt. You felt so embarrassed at how easily scared you were.

"That wasn't even a jump scare, just a loud sound," Yunho said, and the room chuckled. You frowned, pulling yourself away from him. You weren't sure why you were so sensitive, but what he said made you feel small. And not in a good way.

Everyone else's attention was back on the movie in a second, but Yunho couldn't stop looking at you and your sullen face.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning ever so slightly towards you. "Come here," he said, moving his arm around your shoulders this time, gently pulling you towards him. You stuffed your head into his chest, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. You weren't sure if you even wanted his comfort. You completely tuned out the movie, closing your eyes. You mind raced with thoughts from the day, and you suddenly realized you hadn't had a chance to talk to Seonghwa. You had wanted to assure him of what was happening, because he lived with you both. You didn't want him worried that you and Yunho had been keeping something from him, sneaking around behind his back. But as you peaked around the room to find his face, you didn't see him anywhere. You felt confused, and exhausted, and suddenly realized how cold you were again. You tried to tuck yourself into the blankets more but it just wasn't enough, so finally you decided to go grab Yunho's hoodie from the library. Maybe one more layer would help.

You slowly crawl your way out of the room, careful not to block anyone's view of the TV. When you finally stand up you're at the edge of the very short hallway that leads to the library. As you stand you notice how dark the sky looks. This window faces out towards the fire pit, and sits where the cabin is directly under a few trees and your view is limited. Still, the view is beautiful. The rain has become more gentle now, and the soft sound soothes you as you look out across the land splattered with greenery. The plants, the trees, they're the reason you really like being out here. You hope that today's the last day you'll have to spend inside, nursing your body. Some movement in your periferral vision catches your eye, and you sweep your gaze back towards the fire pit and the ring of trees that surrounds it. Suddenly you realize why you couldn't find Seonghwa earlier.

Outside, on a lounging chair just to the left of the fire pit, Seonghwa and Hongjoong are kissing. They must have snuck out while the rest of you were occupied with the movie, you realize. You aren't sure how you missed them at first, but in the darkness of the storm and shadow of the trees they almost blended into the landscape. Seonghwa is sat against he back of the chair and Hongjoong is over him, a hand on Seonghwa's thigh. You see him move that hand to pull on Seonghwa's silky black hair, the kiss clearly passionate, heated. The rain patters down around them, but in the cover of the trees they don't look soaked. They certainly don't look bothered. You can't tell, really, from this far away. You shouldn't be trying to look that hard, anyway. You try to tell yourself that. But you're mesmerized, stuck to the spot. You feel overcome with how beautiful they both are.

Soon they're tugging at each other's shirts, and you can tell now from the way they take them off that they must pretty damp. In the struggle you see Hongjoong's muscular back and arms; Seonghwa's face is the picture of lust, his hands moving down quickly to reach inside Hongjoong's pants and start stroking him. They're kissing again, Seonghwa's lean chest heaving, Hongjoong grabbing his legs to wrap them around himself. Tangled together they look like a perfectly choreographed ballet, like they both know exactly where the other is headed. You see Hongjoong's hips start to buck, his mouth moving down to Seonghwa's ear, then neck, his iron grip on Seonghwa's thigh leaving a mark you can see all the way from the window. Seeing the red mark brings a heat to your cheeks; the image of your porcelain doll of a friend being marked up by such a muscular man is not something you thought you'd ever witness. Now that you have, you can't help but think they're perfect together. Suddenly Hongjoong is sitting back, his hands pulling on the band of Seonghwa's shorts and throwing them aside, and you see how hard Seonghwa is, his movements showing how obviously needy he is.

Fuck, I really should stop watching them, you think. You'd seen them both naked before, it's not like your friend group was uncomfortable with much. But this was obviously different, and the way your body was feeling while you witnessed it made you feel a confused and a little guilty. Still, you could not pull yourself away, as you saw Hongjoong lean down over Seonghwa and say something, and Seonghwa's lips curl up in a smile, his head turning to the side as he grabbed onto Hongjoong's arm. They looked so, so in love. With Seonghwa's legs spread Hongjoong reached down, his hand moving between his cheeks, moving in a way you could not make out from your distance. Seonghwa's head fell back in obvious pleasure, and his back arched slightly showing off his lean abdomen. Hongjoong moved his head down to suck on one of his nipples, making Hwa's back arch even further and his mouth fall open. He looked so completely content in such a vulnerable state, and it made your heart ache with happiness. In all of the conversations you'd had with him over the years, you knew he always felt so self-conscious in these situations. It was always shocking to you, given just how beautiful he was. He got propositioned out in public more than anyone in your group, and had to continually turn people down given the industry he worked in. But all of that attention felt uncomfortable to him, usually, and you knew that. To see him so unabashedly open with someone was a rare sight.

Hongjoong's hand moves up and then you see, a tiny glint of something metal in his hand. It must have been a plug Seonghwa had inside himself already. When had he put that in? It must have been after the game, so before the movie? When did he even have the time? You can't stop watching the way Hongjoong lines himself up, stroking a hand through Seonghwa's hair again, finally pushing himself in ever so slowly. The plug sits next to them on the lounging chair, and you swear the gem on the end twinkles at you. He starts thrusting slowly, kissing Seonghwa's cheek, the rain starting to pick up again. It all feels so cinematic, like it couldn't have been more perf-

"What are you looking at?" Yunho whispers into your ear, sliding up behind you. You jump, spinning away from the window and covering your eyes, your elbow hitting him in the ribs.

"Oh god, ow," he says, grabbing his side.

"You scared me," you pout, your head feeling full of molasses from all of the feelings you are having.

"I whispered," he replied. "Why are you so jumpy, are you okay? Why did you you leave the couch?"

"I was cold, I was gonna grab your hoodie. But then, the window, you know, it was pretty outside with the storm and stuff," you reply, averting your eyes.

"Seems like my hoodie is in danger of being re-homed," he replies. He's trying to joke around to lighten your mood, which is obviously not good at the moment. Your eyes on the floor make him worried, and you really don't seem yourself. Or rather, you seem like how you are when you aren't feeling well.

"Here, why don't we look out the window together?" he offers, turning you around to face it again, wrapping his arms around you to try to help you feel warm.

"Oh god, Yunho, no," you mumble as he turns you, and you start stepping out of his reach, mortified at what he's about to see. You feel his arms stretch out and his body begin to move with you, but then he halts.

"Oh, that's what you were looking at," he laughs under his breath, making you cringe. You hope he leaves it at that, that he doesn't say anything else. But soon he opens his mouth again. "Oh god, that's crazy," he says, and you look back to see his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He looks almost horrified, and you wonder for a moment if he's even seeing what you think he's seeing, or if it's something else entirely. With a confused look on your face you scoot towards the window again, to catch a glimpse of whatever has him so shocked.

As soon as your eye line reaches Seonghwa and Hongjoong you too feel a shock, at just how hard Hongjoong is thrusting into him now, his hand on Seonghwa's neck. No longer do the two look like a balletic couple; instead one has clearly submitted to the other. You know from conversations with him that Seonghwa likes being taken like this, or at least has always liked the idea of it. He'd told you many times how he'd never really had any partners he trusted enough to go there with, but that he wished he could. You feel strangely proud of him, as you realize he'd had to have a difficult conversation with Hongjoong to make this happen.

"Yunho, stop," you say, tugging on his arm to pull him into the library with you.

"You saw what I saw, right?" he asks, his voice still low but sounding mildly concerned.

"Yeah, why?" you ask, seeing his hoodie on the corner of the pull out couch and making a bee line for it.

"You just, don't seem concerned," he says.

"Why would I be concerned?" you ask, your eyebrows knitted together. You really don't know why he'd have a problem with the two of them being together, but suddenly you worry there's something about Yunho that you didn't know.

"Hongjoong was being so aggressive with him," he says, voice even softer.

"Oh, Yunho, he-" you cut yourself off, not wanting to overshare. You're so thankful he doesn't have a problem with them for any other reason. "It's not really my place to share but, let's just say I know he likes that. I'm sure he asked for it."

"Well, I guess that makes a lot of sense," he laughs, his relief palpable. You cock your head to the side, looking confused. "Oh you know what I mean," he continues. "Hwa is so professional, pretty, put together all the time. Of course he likes being taken like a whore."

"Yunho, what the fuck," you say, shoving your face in his hoodie to try to cover up your laugh. You can't help finding what he said hilarious, and his read of Seonghwa is completely spot on. But you can't believe the words actually left his lips. "How can you say that about him?"

"You're the one who was standing and watching them for what, five whole minutes? I waited a while to come and check on you," he says, staring you down as you finally put on his hoodie, your hair a mess under the hood.

"God, please don't tell anyone," you groan into your hands. "It's weird, I know, I'm sorry. I just, they seem very compatible, and I'm happy Hwa has found someone like that. I don't know."

"It's not weird, I know you like watching that kind of stuff," he replies.

"I do not, what are you talking about?" you reply, your cheeks feeling warm again.

"Ok I know it's only one example, but remember our school trip senior year? When those people in the hotel across the street were fucking and they left their curtains wide open? You couldn't stop staring."

"I'm never living that down," you sigh.

"There's nothing wrong with doing that, at least I don't think so. If people are fucking in public then they know someone might see. They probably even like the idea," he says, chuckling.

"I'm not a big pervert who reads smut all the time and likes watching people fuck," you pout, hitting him on the arm.

"I know," he murmurs, pulling you into a hug. "I'd still love you if you were, though."

Love. Your heart stops at the word for a moment, and you don't know why. You'd said it to each other thousands, probably tens of thousands of times in the ten years you'd known him. But now it's making you feel like your heart has fallen into your stomach, and you might puke it up. You sag against Yunho, pains wracking through you again. You almost feel relief, at realizing the feeling was just your cramps.

"I don't feel good," you groan into his chest.

"I know, I could tell," he says, rubbing a hand along your back.

"How?" you ask, tensing in anticipation of his answer.

"Cause you're being kind of weird with me today," he sighs out, hugging you even more tightly.

"I'm sorry," you say, having known it would be his answer. It was the thing him and Seonghwa had helped you realize; no matter how much you could hide the physical symptoms of anything, the changes in your personality were always there when you weren't feeling well. And those two, knowing you as well as they did, always picked up on it.

"Do you want to go back out there? Or stay in here?" he asks you.

"I just want to lay in here for a bit, by myself," you say, not wanting to expose him any longer to your sour mood. "I'll come out for dinner, can you let me know when everyone's eating?"

"Of course," he says, lifting you up and placing you on your bed. In the comfort of the library everything feels so intimate, and you tug him down to come lay with you too, for just a second. Wrapped around each other you both sigh, Yunho nuzzling his face into your neck and leaving a gentle kiss. He feels overcome with concern, his heart wanting to stay next to you like this, forever. But you'd said you wanted to lay by yourself. He pulls himself up, tightening the strings of his hoodie slightly and pulling your blanket over your shoulders. As he leaves he walks gently, trying not to make any sound. In the hallway he glances briefly out the window, to see Seonghwa smiling, him and Hongjoong cuddled up together in a gentle embrace.

***

Dinner passes in a blur, your entire body feeling achey and your head starting to hurt. You'd taken your pills, drank water; there was nothing else you could do. When Yunho came to get you you'd almost declined, almost asked him to bring you food in bed. Your bleeding was definitely slowing down, but your body was feeling weaker today, and your mind was all over the place. Throughout dinner you felt like you might start crying at the smallest thing, and you clung onto Seonghwa to keep yourself from doing so. Everyone could tell you weren't feeling well, Yunho and Seonghwa rubbing your back as you sat cross legged at the large coffee table in the living room, slowly sipping at your soup. When Wooyoung brought you the bowl he had leaned down to hug you, seeing just how out of it you were.

"You don't have to stay out here with us if you don't feel well," Seonghwa said, running his hand through your hair. You leaned against him, slowly blinking to try and calm yourself.

"I don't think I can walk right now," you said, your legs hurting terribly.

"I can carry you," Yunho piped up, downing his last bite of food. "Do you want to go lay down again?"

You nodded your head, the light in the room feeling too bright despite how dim it was. You bring your hands up to cover your eyes.

"Ok, let me clean up our dishes and I'll take you to your bed," he said, standing up with your bowl and his plate in hand. When he returned he gently grabbed your hands, moving them around to the back of his neck, and then moving your legs out in front of you, scooped you up in one fluid motion. You rest your head on his chest, burying your face into his hoodie that you're still wearing.

"Feel better, we love you," Ari said, a twinkle in her eye as she watched Yunho carrying you from the room.

"I love you too," you respond weakly. You feel yourself fading, but suddenly your teeth feel too gross to sleep. "Wait, I need to brush my teeth," you tell Yunho, groaning in frustration.

"Okay, no worries," he says, his voice gentle. He walks you to the bathroom and sets you down on the toilet seat, prepping your toothbrush for you, then helps you stand to spit everything out when you're done. "Wait, I need to pee," you say, holding onto his arm tightly. He helps you sit down again, helps take off your pants and panties. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry you have to help me like this," you say, your words nearly slurring together. You're really sounding out of it, and he feels himself in that space he gets in, when you're so broken down and he's the one there to comfort you.

"Shh, it's okay," he says, brushing a tear that fell down your cheek.

"No it's not, I'm a fucking mess," you continue, more tears starting to fall. "Why can't I figure out my damn body, why does it always catch me so off guard? It must be so weird living with me," you cry, everything tumbling out in waves.

"Y/n, listen to me. Everything is okay, I'm gonna get you to bed and you'll feel better tomorrow, I promise. You are not weird to live with, you're wonderful to live with. Are you hearing me?" he asks, moving your face up to make eye contact with him. "How did I get so lucky to know you?"

His kind words only make you cry harder, and you can't stop even as you get up from the toilet and try to steady yourself. He opens the door and picks you up again, carrying you finally to your bed to lay down. In bed your body feels heavy, like you're made of lead. You haven't felt this tired in a while, and you think sleep might envelop you immediately. But the pain radiating down your thighs and up through your stomach is too bad, and you toss and turn, unable to relax as Yunho readies himself for bed.

"Y/n, what do you need?" he asks, seeing your constant movements and pained expression.

"My legs to stop hurting," you mumble. Without even opening your eyes you raise your arms out to grab at him, even though he isn't right there. Your body is moving desperately again, and something about being with him in this room makes you loose all inhibitions. "Please make them stop hurting Yuyu," you plead.

"What would help, baby?" he asks, his body feeling electric. He moves over so you can grab him; he'll follow any request you have, do anything for you.

"Touch me, again, please," you beg, your thighs and pussy aching. Yunho again grabs a towel for you, gently placing it down on your bed and smoothing it out, lifting your hips to move you onto it. You keep making little sounds of desperation, unable to stop yourself. 'I know, I know, just relax baby,' he whispers to you, watching the way your face softens at the pet name. Soon your lower half is entirely naked, and he's massaging your legs, gently brushing past your cunt a few times, making you mewl from neediness. He wants to make you feel better but he also likes seeing you like this, likes hearing you beg for him. He wasn't prepared last night for what it did to him, and he thinks he's probably already addicted to that feeling.

Finally he slowly pushes a finger in, making you moan and sigh, the relief instant. Your reaching out to pull at his face, pulling him in to kiss him hard, your breath mixing as you open your mouth to slide your tongue across his. You moan at the feeling, his tongue wet and hot, making your clit throb. 'More,' you plead, your body feeling even more opened up than the previous night, even more ready to take everything he can give. He slowly adds a second digit, not wanting to hurt you, but he can tell your desperation is high and you're needing to be well and truly fucked. 'More, more,' you almost cry, your cunt clenching hard onto his long fingers, your hips rocking to match his movements. He inserts another finger, moving slowly again as to not hurt you. Desperately you claw at his back, hands reaching underneath his shirt, leaving marks in their wake. Yunho groans at the feeling, his own cock throbbing at how needy and wet you are. 'Faster, please,' you beg. The little sounds you let out are making him harder and harder; he starts rubbing himself against your leg as he fucks you with his fingers, his cock so hard it's starting to feel like torture.

"More, please Yuyu," you beg again, tears forming in your eyes from how good it all feels.

"More fingers? You feel so tight baby," he asks you, barely able to move his hand with how hard you're clenching down on him.

"No, need you inside me," you babble, feeling how hard he is against your leg. Yunho slows his movements a bit, propping himself up on his elbow to talk to you. He wants nothing more than to fuck you right then, but there's just one problem.

"Baby, I didn't bring any condoms with me," he huffs out, his frustration obvious.

"You should have," you whine, turning your face away from him but still moving your hips against his hand.

"How was I supposed to know this was gonna happen?" he asks, laughing.

You just whine again, eyes even more teary now at the thought that you might not get what you want, and you move your hands up to cover your face. Yunho stops his movements when he sees your disappointed face, sitting himself up to look down at you. He takes his free hand and gently brushes a hair out of your face.

"You really need me to fuck you right now?" he asks, earnestly. You nod your head, looking at him through the gaps between your fingers, your lips in a pout. Yunho groans and throws his head back, your sweet and needy face making him want to do every dirty thing he can think of. "Okay, I'll be right back," he says, slowly pulling out of you. You whine in disappointment, your pussy feeling devastatingly empty. "Just sit tight for a few minutes, I'll be right back," he says, kissing your forehead.

After cleaning off his hand Yunho walks through the cabin, trying hard to go unnoticed as he passes through the living room to the master bedroom. Everyone still seems to be awake except Hongjoong and Seonghwa who lay cuddled on a couch together; Wooyoung and his cousin Yeosang are playing what appears to be a very heated card game of some kind, while the other boys watch or scroll their phones, everyone clearly winding down for the night. He's thankful to not see Ari or San present; they must be in their bedroom as he'd hoped. His heart races from how potentially awkward this interaction could be, but he feels like he's on autopilot and there's no possibility of turning back. Not when you had begged him like that, and looked at him the way you did. There was no way he wouldn't find some sort of solution to his problem.

He knocks on the door gently, hoping he's not disturbing a private moment between the two.

"Yeah?" he hears Ari ask, sounding sleepy.

"It's Yunho, can I come in for just a sec?" he asks, trying to sound casual. He doesn't want to raise any alarm bells for them, or for any of the boys in the living room who might be overhearing. And if it had just been Ari, or one of the other friends he'd known for so long it might not feel too awkward. But there are three new people on the trip this year, and he isn't sure how comfortable they would be.

"Yeah, come in," she responds. Yunho turns the door handle slowly, hoping to avoid making any loud noise. Slowly pushing open the door, he spots San in the chair in the corner, reading over something on his laptop in front of him.

"Hey, sorry this is, well, random. Do you guys happen to have a, uh, condom I could borrow?" He spits it out, not wanting to waste a second.

"Oh, yeah, uh, let me see what I've got," San replies, closing his laptop and setting it on the bed before unzipping a small pocket in his suitcase. "Here just take this box, I brought two with me," he responds.

"Are you sure?" Yunho asks. He's frankly taken aback by how casual San is being about this, and by his generosity on top of it all.

"Yeah, of course. I've got plenty and I'm glad you're asking. It's always better to be safe," he responds, a genuine smile on his face.

"Be careful with her," Ari adds, unable to stop herself. "She's very fragile."

"I'm not going to hurt her, you know that," he replies, looking at her almost coldly. He feels slightly offended at the idea that she thinks it's a possibility, after all of the years she'd known him, seen him taking care of you.

"I know. I just had to say it, she needs all the protecting she can get," she says, remembering the state you were in during dinner. "I'm sorry if that was rude. I'm- I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to ask us," she finishes, hoping she didn't cross some sort of line with him.

"She's very capable of asking for what she needs," Yunho replies, wanting to stick up for you. But his face is soft, he isn't mad.

"Which is, that?" Ari gestures at the box of condoms in his hand, trying to hold back laughter.

"Okay, that's enough," Yunho laughs, looking away from her towards the door. "Thank you both, sorry if I made that weird."

Out the door he makes his way through the living room, trying to hide the box under the hem of his shirt. Mingi is the only one who glances up to see him, registering the shape of the box underneath his shirt. He's pretty sure he knows what it is, and he smirks to himself, too tired to say anything about it. But he's happy his friend is finally getting what he's wanted.

"I'm back," Yunho whispers when he reenters the room, your face and body awash in the gentle white light from the moon. He makes quick work of opening the box, removing one condom and throwing it on the bed. In a second he's on you, peppering your face with kisses, moving his hands underneath your shirt to pull it off.

"I'm so bloated," you say, breathless.

"I need to see you," he responds, not giving you any room to keep talking about yourself that way. You tug on his shirt as well and he reaches up, pulling it off and throwing it on the floor. In the moonlight he looks pale, his long torso perfectly shaped and beautifully lean. You bring a hand up to stroke along his stomach, feeling the strong muscles underneath his skin, brushing across a small happy trail going down from his belly button into his pants. You tug on his pants too, your neediness having only grown in the few minutes he was gone. The idea of laying stark naked in front of anyone, especially in your bloated, sickly state would normally make you shudder, but in this moment you feel free, ready to take anything. He moves down to kiss you again, passionately, his tongue forcing you to open your mouth wide, his hands possessively grabbing you. Him kissing down your neck has you moaning, nearly writhing underneath him. He moves up to whisper to you, biting your earlobe gently and making you moan louder.

"You're so perfect," he whispers, the words cascading down you like a soft warm rain, any worry you had completely melting away. You tug at his pants again, helping him move them down and finally, completely off. Quickly he rolls on the condom; carefully he lines himself up with your entrance, moving his stiff cock up and down our slit, already feeling how warm and wet and ready you are. Finally he presses in, achingly slowly, until he's fully seated inside of you, the muscles of your cunt being deliciously stretched in a way they never have before.

He's big to be sure, clearly just the perfect size, stretching you just the way your body needed. Slowly he pulls out, then soothingly pushes himself back in, his cock hitting every perfect place inside you. Your mouth falls open at the feeling; you've never felt so full, so complete. He moves a hand down to your hip, anchoring himself so he can start a slow rhythm, his head buzzing with how good it all feels.

"Baby, you're so tight, fuck," he says as he tries to find a consistent pace. "Does that feel good?" he asks, eyes not leaving your face.

"Yes, yes, fuck, Yunho," you mumble, not able to form a coherent sentence.

"Relax for me then, you're so tight I can barely move," he says, trying to find the perfect angle to make your body completely give in. Quickly he readjusts himself, moving his knee to lower his angle, adding more strength to his movement. You moan, clearly feeling even better than before, so he knows he needs to lower the angle even more. "Baby, lift your hips for me," he says, grabbing a pillow from beside you to move underneath your lower back. Once you're situated he kisses you again, acutely aware of just how surrendered you are to him, words no longer forming on your lips. Slowly he adjusts his knee again, his hand still on your hip anchoring you, and he begins fucking you again from his new angle.

The immense pleasure is immediate, your back arching and your head rolling back, your moans so loud you're probably being heard throughout the rest of the cabin. But Yunho doesn't care, he's not thinking about that. All he's thinking about is the way he feels your pussy pull him in even more, your hips and thighs finally relaxing some, your whole body reacting to his change in movement.

"Shit, there you go," he praises you, feeling your legs wrap around his back, pulling him in. He's been so careful with you, so focused on not hurting you, but he can tell you need more, so he starts fucking you harder, his face nuzzling in your hair to take in everything he loves about you. He can feel the muscles of your pussy start to clench again, but it's different this time; the flutter against his cock drives him crazy, making him thrust into you even harder. Soon he feels the muscles clenching hard, your moans reaching their peak, your hands a vice grip on his arm and back.

"Good girl, let yourself come," he coos, holding you as close to him as he can, kissing your cheek and nose. It's the most heated moment, he feels himself about to come undone too, but suddenly he's overcome with fondness, a warmth flowing through his chest, making him feel emotional.

"Fuck, I love you." The words tumble out of him without warning and your own chest warms, just as your orgasm starts blooming through you, your legs shaking as Yunho continues to fuck you. You're moaning and mewling, unable to say a single actual word, but you wish you could tell him just how perfect everything is, how you haven't came like that, ever. In the heat of the moment everything felt right, and to hear him say something so sweet just as you reached your climax made it all feel even better. His tight grip on you, the way he's nuzzled into your body, it makes you feel safe and grounded and so fucking horny.

Yunho comes just after you do, his thrusts becoming inconsistent, his body going taught and then absolutely limp on top of you. You both breath deeply, your chests heaving in the quiet coolness of the room. You wish you could bottle this feeling, the way your body is limp and buzzing with pleasure, his weight on top of you making your usually busy brain filled with nothing but the feeling of him. It feels peaceful, almost spiritual. You both rest for a few minutes, not moving a muscle, except when Yunho reaches over finally to kiss you again, making you giggle.

"How are you feeling?' he asks, still not daring to move.

"So good," you slur out, a dopey smile spreading across your face.

"Good," he replies, wrapping himself around you like he loves to do. "Can I pull out of you?" he asks.

"Mhmm," you respond, moving your legs to allow him to move. He cleans you up and helps you redress, stopping every few seconds to kiss you again, tickling you too when he realizes you're in the mood for it. It takes a while for you to come back to yourself, your mind so foggy from everything that had happened. But finally, once he'd gotten you both totally ready for sleep and wrapped himself up behind you, you found you could actually speak.

"I love you too," you whisper, squeezing his hand that rests on your belly. He just cuddles you closer, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

#ateez x reader #yunho x reader #yunho smut #ateez yunho #ateez smut

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notyourhetloki · 1 month

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Can I request Wade and Logan/reader breeding kink? 👉👈 both of them too excited about it and competitive? (Can you make reader gender neutral (he/him or they/them or trans ftm (he/him), you can use any terms for genitals and stuff it's ok)

into it (Logan x Reader x Wade)

Reader: he/him (ftm)

/NSFW Logan x Reader x Wade/

A/N: Fuuck I had so much fun writing this, anon! It's a bit short but it's pure porn so I hope you still end up satisfied lol (also sorry about the random gif, I couldn't find a more suiting one lmao). Anyway, hope you like it! xoxo

Tags: ftm reader (reader has a vagina), breeding kink, creampie, they both fuck you, Wade being a fucking joke, Logan is not having it, piv sex (unprotected), porn without plot.

Word Count: 908

—

As soon as you walked through the front door, they were all up in your personal space. Wade and Logan promptly started to take your clothes off, not exactly caring about being gentle.

"Boys! Calm down, there's plenty of me for the both of you!" You tried appeasing, but to no avail.

"And yet is nearly not enough." Groaned Logan, ripping your underwear off with his bare hands. You gasped as his fingers immediately found your sex, rubbing your clit while Wade kissed your neck.

"Sorry about that, doll. We'll buy you another one." Wade whispered into your ear, taking you by the hand and convincing Logan to continue things in the bedroom.

You were basically thrown onto the bed, naked and vulnerable and super turned on. You could already see their hard bulges before they started to take their own clothes off.

"On all fours for us." Ordered Logan, and you gladly obliged. "Attaboy..."

After all their clothes were out, Logan started positioning himself behind you until you heard Wade complain.

"Wait a minute, mutton chops! Why do you think you get to go first?" Wade pointed out.

"Because I can and I will." Logan retorted impatiently, giving your ass a light squeeze.

"Nuh-uh! That ain't fair! I propose a rock-paper-scissors to sort things out, nothing fairer than that." Said Wade holding a closed fist out.

"Fucking hell, fine!" Logan agreed and quickly started the game. They finished the round and Logan played scissors, while Wade played paper.

"Best out of three?" Begged Wade, but the other man didn't care for it.

"Fuck off." Logan pushed Wade aside and started positioning himself again, putting the tip of his cock at your entrance.

You were really wet, so it didn't hurt when he slammed into you. You were full, stuffed to the brim, and you thought it couldn't get any better than that... until Logan began thrusting into you, hitting a sweet spot inside that made you cry out in pleasure.

"Let us hear those sweet sounds you make, boy." Logan said while fucking you. He breathed loudly, grunting and grabbing you at the hips with enough force to bruise. The sounds you made together were obscene, and that turned Wade on even more.

"Gosh... fuck him silly, Wolvie." Wade was jacking himself off, looking closely at Logan's dick in and out of you. "Cum inside him..."

Logan groaned again, more urgent than before. A sudden thought took over him, and he needed to let it out. "I'm gonna breed you, (y/n). I'm gonna fill you up so good... fuck, fill you up with my seed."

"Goddamn!" Said a surprised Wade, not expecting the other man to be so earnest. "That's so fucking dirty... I love it."

"Ah, yes! Please..." You moaned, feeling energy and heat through your whole body. You were being used by him, your body only an object... it turned you on so damn much.

Logan's thrusts began to get even more rough, he was fucking you hard and the sounds he made were animalistic. Soon he turned erratic, his hips faltering in the rhythm he had set. You knew he was close.

He came with a loud grunt, holding you for dear life. Breathing deeply through his gritted teeth, Logan recovered and slowly took his member out of you. A bit of cum dripped from your entrance, and Wade observed everything with a delighted expression.

"I bet I can cum even more in his pussy..." He whispered mostly to himself, but you both heard him.

"You wanna bet, bub?" Said Logan with a satisfied smile on his face. What doesn't a good fuck does to one man's humor?

"Hell yeah, peanut." Wade soon replaced the other man's position and unlike Logan, asked for your approval. "You alright, gorgeous?"

"Y-Yeah... please, give it to me." You moaned as you felt his cock entering you, stuffing you up again.

Wade was a bit gentler with his hands, grabbing you thoughtfully at the places you weren't bruised. But his rhythm... he was still a beast.

"Fuuuck, you feel so good, pretty boy." He moaned, not stopping for a second.

"Hmm, Wade... Logan... ah!" You couldn't stop making noises and calling out for them, dumb with the feeling of being full.

"Good job, sugar... you're being so good for us." Said Logan while standing beside you, watching as Wade pounded into you with great enthusiasm.

"Shit, I'm close... I'll cum inside your pretty cunt, (y/n)." Wade gripped you even harder and finally slammed his hips into you, his climax followed by a deep moan.

He took a few breaths and slowly came back to earth, removing himself from you with a pop. Even more cum oozed from inside you, a beautiful and sexy sight for the both of them.

"As my partner here mentioned earlier... consider yourself 'bred'." Wade taunted, giving a final slap on your ass and retreating himself to put an arm over Logan's shoulder. "Sooo... about that bet, what is my prize?"

You laughed as you laid on your back to watch them both, exhausted but completely satisfied.

Logan suddenly grabbed Wade by his balls, looking him in the eyes. "You get to keep all of your blood inside your body today, sounds good?"

Wade responded in a higher octave, nodding his head and still holding Logan's shoulders. "Ouchie! So rough!" Logan let him go, but Wade only got closer. "You're lucky I'm into it."

—

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soaps-mohawk · 1 month

Text

I'm going to be honest

I'm having a genuinely hard time making this post. I've been fighting with it for a couple weeks now, but I think it's time I finally make it.

I'm not having fun on this blog anymore.

It sounds bad, but honestly, it kind of is.

I think a lot of it started from the very beginning with the precedence and expectations I put on myself. I've always tried to respond to every comment I get. Even from the beginning. It's just a polite thing to do since those who leave comments took the time to write out what they think of my fic, even if it's just a keysmash. I've always felt the need to thank those who leave comments or reblog my writing or (now that tumblr has it) replied to my fics. It worked fine before because none of my fics were particularly popular. Even my most popular fic (at that time) didn't get as much attention as CRCB has. I've never had a "big blog" before, nor a fic as popular as CRCB has gotten.

It was fine at first, responding to everyone, engaging with everyone. I was riding that high of omg so many people are reading and enjoying my fic! I've never had anything quite like this before.

Now...it just feels more like a chore. I set this precedence on this blog that I respond to everyone and I know a lot of people have said that they're surprised I responded to them and to everyone, and now I'm getting why a lot of writers don't. I'm exhausted. I feel like I've just been robotically saying the same thing over and over trying to respond to people now. I used to love seeing asks in my inbox and reblogs and replies but now? All I feel is dread because I have to respond to all of those.

Turning anon off was a big help. It lessened the sheer volume of asks I was getting a day. And while I do feel bad for all of my anons who prefer to stay anons, with everything that happened (the multiple incidents) with anon that kind of started to suck the joy out of everything. That paired with the obsessive need to constantly have my inbox cleared and make sure everyone gets a response...I can understand now too why big blogs will have 200+ asks in their inbox. It's hard and it's exhausting and I'm burning out.

First it was the fic that was burning me out. Things have gone on far longer than I planned and I just wasn't prepared for this fic to go on and for a while there it was dragging. I'll admit that. If I could go back, I'd speed up a few things, but it's done, it's posted there's no going back. I kind of hoped I would have the mental capacity to upload more than once a week too, but I just couldn't. I still can't.

I've come to dread posting chapters because I know I'm going to have to reply and respond to everyone. The only thing keeping me posting is the fact that we're in the part of the story I've been excited about since the beginning and also because I keep leaving everyone on cliffhangers and I love torturing y'all with all of them.

So that being said, this is in no way to shame anyone for interacting with me, anyone leaving comments or replies or sending asks. Don't feel bad about doing it please. I appreciate all of you that have engaged with me and it really means so much to me. Honestly, earlier this year, if I didn't have this fic and everyone on this blog, I might not have made it to now. It's been a really rough year and it's still going to be into next year. It's just getting to the point where I need a break.

I've needed a break for a long time. I thought taking days off the blog would help, and it did for a couple of weeks, but now even on the days I'm supposed to be on the blog and engaging, I just find myself queueing stuff up and just being offline most of the day still.

I'm tired. That's the best reason I can give. I'm tired and burned out on life and I'm tired and burned out on this blog.

So...I think I need a break. I need to not keep responding to every single reply and reblog every chapter. I need to not force myself to answer every ask right away, no matter how much I want to. I feel bad, but I know everyone would rather have me here and enjoying the blog than forcing myself to interact to the point where I'm dreading it and just robotically repeating myself over and over with every reply and answer and comment.

I won't be pausing the fic, I won't be not uploading. I'll still be posting chapters, I just might not be interacting as much as I have been. It's just putting such a mental strain on me still, even with anon off, even with days off. And with things getting busier for me, it's going to be too much to try and deal with irl stuff and write and try to be super active on the blog. There's going to come a point where I have to sacrifice the writing or the blog and I'd rather sacrifice the blog to keep myself sane, and also to keep trying to finally get this fic done. I love this fic, don't get me wrong, but I'm just burning out.

I'm already burned out in a lot of ways.

I was planning kinktober this year but honestly I'm considering not doing it because I know interaction is going to be insane and it's going to be a lot to keep up on. Plus trying to write that many fics is hard and I'm not sure I have the ability to do it. I have a few done but now I'm just like...is that something I want to do on top of irl stuff and CRCB.

There's just no joy in it anymore. It's not anyone's fault but mine. I put the pressure on myself, I held myself to that standard for this long despite the fact I knew it was draining me. I've tried to push through when I should have prioritized myself. I feel so guilty not responding to everyone. I feel so guilty being a day or two late responding to everyone.

I want to be here and interacting and responding to things but I just can't bring myself to anymore. It's no one's fault, and this is not a drag on anyone, or an attempt to make anyone feel bad or guilty for interacting or sending asks or anything. I'm just airing out the truth and saying what I need to say because I feel like I've been so robotic and lifeless with my responses these last couple weeks and I feel like I need to explain why. It's nothing anyone has done. It's my fault. It's 100% my fault.

Things have just gotten to be too much and it's my fault for forcing myself to be so active. The social battery has dropped into the negatives. I'm not a social person. I can only handle so much interaction and I've pushed so far beyond that, that things have gotten to this point. I want to be here and I want to have fun and I want to use this as an escape but I just don't feel that way about it anymore. It's a chore for me, a job, something I feel like I have to do and it's my fault that I feel that way. It's my own standards and expectations I set on myself, and my expectations on what I think my followers want and deserve and now I feel like I've gone on too long like this that I can't change things without hurting anyone's feelings. I don't want people to think I'm ignoring them in favor of others because I know there's writers out there that do that. They only respond to a certain group and ignore others that comment and reblog. I don't want to make anyone feel like I'm doing that to them and that's now led me to here.

I'm forcing it and I'm tired.

It's been hard these last few weeks. The life has just been draining and draining continuously. The joy and the love I have for this blog and my followers and the interactions and the fic. The last anon bullshit that happened was just kind of the last nail in the coffin so to speak. The straw that broke the camel's back. Things stopped being fun. It made me feel bad (and not in the guilty way, though that was a part of it) and I'm honestly just over it. I'm over the blog, I'm over interacting, I'm over life at this point. August is a hard month for me and every year it seems to get worse and worse. A lot of it is unrelated to anything online and I was going to make a post about it but honestly I just don't want to. Those that know, know. Those that don't...it doesn't matter.

I'm getting annoyed by the blog, I'm getting annoyed every time I look in my notifications and see an ask or a reply or a comment. I'm getting annoyed by some of my followers and that's not fair to you. Everyone always talks about how nice and kind and patient I am when I'm really not. I'm not the person I present myself to be on this blog, the way I mask myself so I can present myself as being a normal, kind human being. The mask is coming off because I'm so tired I can't keep it up anymore. It's happening here and it's happening in real life. I'm tired and I'm frustrated and I'm angry at a lot of things and the last thing I want is to start taking it out on my followers. You don't deserve that, especially when it's not your fault, it's nothing any of you have done. It's all me.

It's not you, it's me.

So for the sake of not burning this whole thing to the ground, I'm going to take a break. I'm not replying to everyone, I'm not responding to every reblog, I won't reply to every ask I get right away, if at all because sometimes I just don't have anything to say in response and I need to learn that's okay. It's nothing against you. It's not aimed at anyone specifically, I'm just trying to put myself first and stop things from escalating. I need a break and I'm going to do something selfish and I'm going to take it.

Don't apologize because it's not your fault. Don't apologize because you think you might have contributed to this because you didn't. It is no one's fault but my own.

I'm the one that needs to apologize to all of you because I've just not been myself because I've been forcing myself to be someone I'm not. I've been very unfair to a lot of people over the last seven months that this blog has been active and I've held a precedent that is not sustainable in the long run and made everyone believe that I was capable of maintaining that kind of interaction when I'm not.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've been putting everyone through this. I'm sorry I've been so detached and robotic and ingenuine. I'm sorry I led everyone to believe I'm someone I'm not. I'm sorry I've dragged this on this long that it's gotten to the point that I have to make this post.

I considered just disappearing but that wouldn't be fair to you either. I don't want to put you through that, so I'm pouring all of my thoughts out and making you read through this fucking novel of a post. If you've made it this far, then congrats I guess. Gold metals to you who bothered reading this far.

Anyway, all of that aside, I'll still be posting chapters. I'll have them scheduled and I'll probably come on and add links places to keep things current. I'll respond and reply and answer asks when I feel like it. You don't have to stop sending them, but just don't expect them to be responded to right away anymore. I'll probably still be here reblogging things I want and doing things when I feel like it.

I just need a few weeks to myself. Time I don't have to care about the blog at all and keeping up with it. Anon will remain off for the sake of keeping asshole trolls away, and also so I don't open tumblr and have 200 asks in my inbox after a week. Sorry to my anons but it's just the way it needs to be right now. Maybe once this break is over and I've dealt with irl stuff, I'll consider putting it back on. I just can't after everything I dealt with recently on anon.

It'll be the same on Ao3, for those that follow here and read there. Comments will probably sit for a while. They won't be answered right away anymore unless I get the energy to burn through them. Even then I won't try to answer them all at once like I did this last weekend.

I'll try to reblog something every day so y'all know I'm alright. I don't want y'all to panic and it's not fair to put you through that, especially those that might not see this or bother reading it. Those that follow simply for the fic and nothing else. I'm here, I'm just not...here.

This week's chapter is in the queue to be posted tomorrow as usual. Chapters will still come out as planned since I'm not stopping writing, just taking a break from the blog itself.

Thank you those of you who stuck through to the end here. I appreciate all of you so much. You have no idea. I'm sorry I let things get to this point and I'm sorry to anyone that I've gotten rude or snappy with because I couldn't be selfish and put myself first. I'm sorry to anyone that got a robotic, repeated response to something they were probably excited to share. I'm sorry I've been so unfair to everyone and I hope you can forgive me.

Take care and I'll talk to everyone when I have the energy to.

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ginnsbaker · 1 year

Text

Bulletproof

Summary: You're the only Avenger who sleeps in a cell. | Series Masterlist

Word count: 2.9k+ | Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff, Sharing A Bed, Enemies to Lovers

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Requested by anon:

could i maybe request wanda x r where the whole team kinda mistreats them and wanda is especially bad. & r saving wanda on a mission, with this: wanda: “How'd you know you were bulletproof?" r: "I didn't. I just knew that you weren't."

Author's note: Thank you to the anon who requested this :) Not sure if this is exactly how you wanted it, but I had fun writing the battle (my first time!) Hope you don't mind I took some liberties ;) Takes place before Civil War.

“You don’t have to be so mean to them,” Natasha tells her.

Wanda's eyes narrow as she continues to fixate on you, her glare seemingly willing the daggers to find their mark. You can sense the energy of her powers tingling in the air, but she maintains control, stopping the daggers just short of their target.

“They need to know what they’re up against,” Wanda retorts, her accent slipping through in a rare moment. “If they’re going to be one of us, they have to prove themselves.”

Natasha moves to stand between you and Wanda, her body language calm but assertive. “They will, in time. But not like this.”

You can feel your heart pounding, but you refuse to let Wanda see any fear in your eyes. Your choice to leave your former life and join this team wasn't made lightly, and you won't be intimidated.

“I'm right here,” you say, stepping forward. “And I'm not going anywhere. If you want to test me, do it properly.”

Wanda smirks, and the daggers drop to the floor, clattering loudly in the silence. “Impressive,” she says, almost as an afterthought.

Steve Rogers, observing from the sidelines, steps in to defuse the situation. His authoritative presence commands respect, and his voice is steady and even. “That's enough for today. We're a team, and we need to start acting like one.”

He looks at you, his eyes filled with understanding but also a hint of caution. “However,” he continues, his tone shifting, “You'll still be sleeping in the cells.”

Your heart plummets, each word from Steve feeling like a blade to your chest. Being sent back to that room, devoid of windows, with only a tiny bed and a comforter too thin to ward off the chill, feels like a betrayal every time. You've spent nights there, shivering and reflecting on your decision to join this team, yet still, you find yourself confined.

“After several months of captivity, even cooking your dinner, you still don't trust me?” you ask, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice.

Steve's expression softens, but his resolve remains firm. “It's not about trust,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of experience and pain. “We've been crossed so many times before, mostly by former HYDRA agents.”

Like you, he doesn’t need to say.

You understand the logic, but it doesn't make the reality any easier to swallow. The sense of being an outsider, the cold isolation of the cells—it wears on you.

Wanda, who had been silent up to this point, suddenly speaks up. “Maybe you should just leave then. If it's so unbearable, why stay?”

The room goes quiet.

A thousand retorts spring to your mind, but you swallow them down, unwilling to escalate the situation further. The temptation to throw back that it's rich coming from her, considering she's also a former footsoldier of HYDRA, is strong, but you bite your tongue.

You look at her, stunned by the bluntness of her suggestion, but also recognizing the challenge in her eyes.

Her words strike deeper than she may realize. Leaving isn't an option you've entertained, mainly because there's nowhere for you to go. No one left in your life to turn to. This makeshift “family” despite their reservation and distance, is all you have.

The days that follow are marked by a subtle but relentless isolation.

In the training room, Wanda's partnership becomes more aggressive than usual. Her powers lash out without warning, her critiques sharp and cutting. You hold your own, but the lack of camaraderie is palpable. Each comment she makes stings, and with every barb, you feel more and more alone.

At meal times, the rest of the Avengers seem to be in their own world, deep in conversation, sharing stories, laughing. You sit at the end of the table, your presence barely acknowledged, a shadow among them. Your attempts to join in are met with curt replies or indifference. You try to brush it off, believing that you should be used to rejection by now. But no matter how much you tell yourself that you're accustomed to it, that you've developed a thick skin, the pain is still there, raw and fresh.

Mission briefings are no better. Your opinions and insights are consistently overlooked. You contribute where you can, but your ideas are dismissed without consideration. You are a tool, a means to an end, not a part of the team. The realization gnaws at you, festering in the pit of your stomach.

Casual encounters with the team become equally disheartening. Tony passes you in the hallway without so much as a glance. Natasha avoids eye contact. Bruce mumbles something noncommittal when you try to engage him in conversation. Steve's assignments are devoid of the warmth or encouragement he shows to everyone else.

Your cell becomes a constant reminder of your status, metaphor for how the entire team treats you.

You’re both just a weapon and a first-aid kit at their disposal.

Wanda is relentless, her words sharp and her gaze cold. You have no idea why she treats you worse than any of them, why her manner towards you has turned so hostile. You don't understand why you get under her skin without even trying, why she seems to target you with a venom that feels deeply personal.

You were expecting that Wanda would be the one to understand what it feels like to be an outsider, given that you both share a common history as former HYDRA agents.

As the days turn into weeks, the isolation wears you down. The walls of your cell seem to close in, and a growing determination to prove yourself begins to take hold.

You'll show them all that you're more than just a disposable weapon.

But underlying that determination is a gnawing doubt, a fear that no matter what you do, it will never be enough to earn their respect, their trust, or their friendship. It's a lonely road, and for the first time, you begin to wonder if Wanda's earlier suggestion might hold some truth.

Perhaps it would be easier to leave.

It’s not like you know the extent of your abilities, but they bring you along the most dangerous missions for one thing:

Your healing ability.

On top of your martial arts training, you provide a sense of security to your teammates, knowing that you'll be there to heal them if they get hurt.

Now, you find yourself on one such mission, infiltrating a den of underground supers. These aren't ordinary criminals; they're mercenaries hired to carry out the dirty work of high-ranking government officials. It's a treacherous job, one filled with unknown risks, and you've been paired with Wanda for the operation.

As you and Wanda are attempting to escape, things take a turn for the worse. You find yourselves cornered in an alley, your escape route cut off by a group of armed thugs and a few individuals displaying unnerving superpowers.

Wanda takes on those with special abilities, her eyes glowing red as she unleashes her powers in a flurry of attacks. You, on the other hand, focus on the armed assailants, wielding two-handed pistols with expert precision. Bullets fly, and bodies fall as you both fight for your lives.

But in the midst of the chaos, you notice something that sends a chill down your spine. Snipers, perched on a nearby rooftop, taking aim at Wanda. Even with your healing abilities, you know that a precise shot to the head would be fatal.

“Wanda, get down!” you shout, but she's too engrossed in her battle to hear you. Your mind races, knowing that you have only seconds to act.

Without a second thought, you turn and run towards Wanda, your body moving on pure instinct. Bullets whiz by your ear, but you keep going, your focus solely on reaching her before it's too late.

You leap into the air, positioning yourself between Wanda and the snipers just as they pull the trigger.

You hear the distant release of the bullet, muted but deadly.

The world seems to slow down as you brace for the impact, only to feel the bullets bounce off your skin.

You land, unscathed, your mind reeling from the realization that you're bulletproof. But there's no time to dwell on it.

Wanda looks at you, her eyes wide with shock but also gratitude. “How did you–”

“No time!” you cut her off, urging her to keep fighting. “We have to get out of here!”

Wanda's eyes flare with a vivid scarlet as she zeroes in on the snipers in the vicinity. With a flourish of her hands, she uses her powers to locate each of their positions. A pulse of energy emanates from her fingertips, reaching out to the snipers' weapons, and within moments, the firearms disintegrate into dust, leaving the men defenseless.

Seeing an opening, you reach for Wanda's arm, your grip firm but not rough. There's no time to waste, and you start pulling her towards the exit, half running, half dragging her to safety. Her breath is warm on your neck, her body close to yours, as you weave through the maze of alleyways, your heart pounding in your chest.

Once you're at a safe distance, Wanda turns to you. “How'd you know you were bulletproof?”

“I didn't,” you admit, still in disbelief, and much to Wanda’s horror that you almost got yourself killed for her sake. “I just knew you weren't. And if those bullets got to you, I wouldn't be able to heal someone who's already dead.”

Wanda stares at you, her eyes searching your face as if she's trying to see something… deeper. Her lips part, like she wants to say something more, something that's just on the tip of her tongue but won't come out.

That's when you realize that you're still holding her arm, your bodies so close that you can feel her heartbeat. A flush of embarrassment washes over you as you become aware of the intimate proximity. Wanda clears her throat, a delicate, almost shy sound, and you immediately let go of her arm.

The silence that follows your sudden step back is heavy and awkward. You can't help but glance at the spot where your hand had been moments ago, still feeling the ghostly sensation of her arm beneath your fingers.

You look at Wanda, and she's looking back at you, her eyes wide and filled with something you can't quite name.

And then, without warning, Wanda starts to laugh.

It's a soft, bubbling sound at first, almost as if she's surprised by it herself. Her laughter grows, becoming louder and more contagious, and you can't help but stare at her, your mouth agape, wondering if she's lost her mind.

“What's so funny?” you finally manage to ask.

Wanda wipes a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “I was just thinking,” she says, her nose scrunching, something you haven’t seen on her and you find it quite… adorable. “You're like a shield now. As effective as Steve's vibranium one, maybe even more so.”

The absurdity of the statement causes you to finally join in her laugh, and your heart seems to flutter at the sound of Wanda's glee.

“I don't know about that,” you say, trying to sound modest but unable to keep the smile off your face. “Steve's shield has a bit more style.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Wanda teases, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “There's something quite stylish about being bulletproof. And practical too.”

Was that a compliment?

You shake your head, still smiling, your previous awkwardness forgotten. You're not only pleased at the first light banter you've shared with a teammate but also smiling at something else, something that stirs deep inside you and that you're not quite ready to confront.

Your crush on Wanda Maximoff.

The toll of the day's event is weighing down on you and Wanda, but like every mission, you're required to report the details of the mission–successful or not. Your muscles are sore, your mind is weary, but the mission was a success, and you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.

Arriving back at the Avengers compound, you follow Wanda into the debriefing room where Steve is waiting. Wanda explains what happened, how you discovered your newfound ability, and saved her life. Her voice is filled with respect and something more, something warmer, as she recounts your bravery.

Steve's face lights up with pride. “You both did well today. I'm proud of how you handled yourselves out there.”

You exchange a glance with Wanda, waiting for something more, perhaps some acknowledgment of your change in status within the team, or even an upgrade to your sleeping quarters. But instead, Steve simply nods, his face turning serious. “Dismissed.”

Wanda's face falls, and you feel a sharp pang of disappointment. You start to retreat towards your cell, the cold, windowless room that's been your home for months, but Wanda's voice stops you in your tracks.

“Wait a minute, Steve,” she protests. “After all that's happened, after all Y/N has done for us, don't you think it's time for a change? A real room, perhaps?”

Steve looks between you and Wanda. You hold your breath, hoping for a reprieve from the isolation you've been feeling.

Finally, Steve sighs, his face softening. “Wanda, if it were up to me, Y/N would have their own room already. But it's not that simple,” he explains, his voice strained. “I still need to place an official request with Tony. He's the one who approves these things.”

You can hear the frustration in Steve's voice, and you realize that he's fighting for you, in his own way.

“Fine,” Wanda says, crossing her arms. “But this needs to be done quickly, Steve. It's not right.”

“I agree. I'll talk to Tony first thing tomorrow.”

As you turn to leave and retreat back to your cell, Wanda's hand on your arm stops you, and you look back at her, surprised by the action.

“Come with me,” she says. Without another word, she leads you towards her quarters.

Your heart quickens at her words, and you follow her, trying to process what's happening.

Is she really inviting you to stay in her room?

Once inside her quarters, the reality of the situation sinks in, and a nervous tension takes hold. Her room is filled with personal touches–little trinkets, photographs, her clothes all over the place–that provide glimpses into a life you've only seen from a distance. You feel like an intruder, momentarily paralyzed as you take in the intimacy of her space.

Wanda seems to pick up on your hesitation, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. A smirk plays on her lips as she teases, “Don't look so terrified. I won't bite.”

You chuckle at her remark. “Well, that's a relief.”

Wanda's eyes sparkle with amusement, and she moves further into the room, gesturing for you to follow. “Make yourself at home,” she says. She then goes to the closet and begins to pull out a spare pillow and blanket. “You'll be staying here with me until we sort out a room for you,” she says.

“Thanks, Wanda,” you say softly.

Without further comment, you move to make your bed on the floor, your movements deliberate and slow as you try to give her space and respect her privacy.

“What are you doing?” Wanda asks, her eyes widening as she realizes your intention.

“I'm just getting ready to sleep,” you explain, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I'm quite tired.”

“No, what are you doing on the floor?” she clarifies, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “You're sharing the bed with me.”

“I wouldn't want to impose,” you say, though the offer is tempting.

“You're not imposing,” Wanda assures you, her eyes sincere. “You've earned a proper bed, and I trust you.”

The word 'trust' hits you like a wave, and you feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes.

Blinking them back, your voice cracks a little as you reply, “Thank you, Wanda. That means more to me than you know.”

“Good night, Y/N,” Wanda whispers, turning on her side to face you.

“Good night, Wanda,” you say, just as softly.

You both settle on the bed, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda uses her powers to switch off the light.

The softness of Wanda's bed is worlds away from the harsh, unforgiving mattress in your cell. You find yourself sinking into the plush comfort, every muscle in your body releasing the tension from the dangerous mission earlier. The scent of Wanda on the pillows only adds to the incomparable comfort they provide. The difference is staggering, and it contributes to you falling asleep much more quickly than you have in a long time.

In the middle of the night, you're stirred awake by the feeling of Wanda rolling closer to you. Her arm finds its way over your stomach, and her soft snores fill the room. Being ever alert, the small action wakes you, but as soon as you realize it's just Wanda, a smile forms on your face.

You lie there for a moment, taking in the warmth and the gentle pressure of her hand. A soft blush creeps up your cheeks as you place your hand over hers to keep it there.

You've become more than just teammates.

You've become friends.

And maybe, just maybe, something more.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #captain america civil war #the avengers #oneshots #steve rogers #fic request

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partycatty · 9 months

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i was sent an incredibly delicious prompt to use, and i just can't resist it omg. requester wanted to be anonymous, but just know i appreciate u! i won't lie, i ran into so many blocks trying to get this out. writing is hard :( i ended up taking a couple creative liberties anon i hope that's okay

bi-han > new tricks

johnny cage's girlfriend catches him cheating, so she tries to get back at him using bi-han. it's all fun and games, until something new starts to blossom.

warnings: u get cheated on, THIS IS NSFW, author struggles to write johnny in a bad light bc of their favoritism /j, accidental bottom bi-han

notes: i'm rubbing my hands together like a little fly rn, also bi-han's betrayal doesn't happen in this case, also also yes i made a gif of johnny getting his shit rocked for this fic thumbnail

masterlist <3

PART 2 !!!!

•you and johnny got together following the end of the storyline's events. he charmed you to holy hell and back with those dumb sunglasses and pickup lines at the academy. he was a sweetheart at first, love-bombing you endlessly until you accepted his thirtieth relationship proposal. deciding to stop dragging him along like a lost puppy, you finally said yes, and off you went to date a movie star!

•the change from being nobody to somebody was JARRING. suddenly, cameras were up your ass all the time, and you caught yourself staring out of your apartment window on multiple occasions to see people scurry away when they're spotted.

•even so, you can't lie. the parties that celebrities hold rival outworld's temptations. especially if johnny is hosting. despite downsizing from his mega mansion, his new home was still expansive enough to hold a large number of people. and boy did he take advantage of the space.

•everyone was a few drinks deep, you yourself were a little buzzed but with the intention of loosening up and socializing. johnny however, seems to have other intentions.

•johnny is canonically a recovering alcoholic. he'd indulge in a girly drink every now and then, maybe some whiskey on a really shitty day. but today, he must have combined the two flavors of vice and was now fitting his clothed dick into some random C-list actress's ass, grinding to the music. his sunglasses sloppily clung onto his nose and his face was flushed. drunk or not, he was dry humping some random broad at his own damn party, with you only a few feet away.

•you want to scream so bad, to tear her bleached blonde hair to the ground and beat her, and then johnny. but all you can do is stand there horrified, that is, until johnny looks up from his buried face in her neck and makes eye contact with you, eyes wide.

•"babe — goddamnit — babe!" johnny slurs out, holding your arms tight on his balcony. "it's not... fuck. it's just fun! it's a party! lighten up!"

•after a drunken back and forth, johnny eventually throws his hands in the air and tells you to fuck off because he can find better at that very party. although you heavily disagreed, the conversation abruptly ended when you slurred something back along the lines of "you want some other bitch? have 'em then!" officially ending your relationship and storming out of the party.

•the following few days were rough on your heart, and majority of the time your bed was occupied and loud sobs echoed across your walls. you could've had it all, dammit, and this dickhead just threw you away like nothing! he thinks he can just score any woman he wants, whenever he wants. even if he learned his lesson from cris, his playboy attitude runs in his veins. it's not something he's gonna shake easily, and you were a victim to his unchanging behavior.

•back to living with nothing, you decided to retreat to the one place you knew you were wanted; the lin kuei compound. bi-han, kuai liang and tomas respected your strength when it came to fighting against evil and welcomed you like their own.

•after about three days of living on the lin kuei's land, you check social media. you went ghost online after the breakup since the paparazzi and article rats were prowling the internet (and your home) for details about your breakup with the A-Lister. checking social media proved to be a stupid move, because almost instantly your feed was flooding with photos and videos of your ex-boyfriend partying on yachts and posing with models. he's really out here posting like he's not damaged in the slightest, but literally everyone and their mother can read the post a little deeper and see he's compensating for losing you. you were mature, well-spoken, and well respected, and he was still trying to get his shit together after everything that happened. you were just another crack in his shittily held together glass. and it was time to get back at him.

•it starts off innocently enough, you snap quick photos of the grandmaster when he's not looking, showing only his veiny arms and a hint of his blue uniform. you'd post it to your story to pretend to soft launch this new "boyfriend," linking a romantic song to the post and letting people run wild. this proved effective immediately, as you noticed that "UgotCAGEd" with the little verified mark would view your story almost the exact moment it'd go up. you knew that he knew exactly who was in the photo, and it just had to have been driving him up a wall. he even tried to combat this by posting more and more, each setting getting more lavish and sexy than the last. if anything, johnny was a chronic 1-upper. but you couldn't just post blurry pictures of bi-han forever. this needed to cut deep.

•and you were going to play this stupid game, because if he goes low, you go in the TRENCHES.

•"grandmaster sub-zero, i-i have a favor to ask you," you politely ask, bowing once before smiling up at bi-han. "i have a plan. a... ridiculous one. but it needs your help."

•"you want us to fake partnership?" bi-han asks you, trying to summarize your lengthy explanation. "go ask kuai liang. or tomas. they need something to do these days, with shang tsung imprisoned. i'm busy."

•"it can't be them, it has to be you," you respectfully protest, putting your hands in a prayer position to beg for his help. "johnny is... jealous of you. it would be most effective. and i'll be forever in your debt." bi-han's eyes momentarily widen at your insistence. your desperation for his help caught him a little off guard.

•it's true. johnny was jealous ever since he got his shit kicked in when they first met. they were never really huge fans of each other since then. standing in front of him now, it's easy to understand how bi-han was so superior. his emotions never took control, he was a powerful leader for his clan, and his furrowed brows and gravely voice rumbled inside of your chest... jesus, now that you're getting a good look, he's actually pretty hot. oh, no.

•"this is ridiculous," bi-han groans, trying to angle himself just right in the selfie. he stands behind you, hand wrapped around your neck as you try to angle the photo just right to where it only gives a tease of his face in the mirror's reflection. "how long does one photo take?"

•"it has to be perfect," you reply, eyes focused on your phone as you wiggle it in different directions to get the best possible view. "crouch down a little more, so more of your jawline shows."

•he leans down, and his breath fans across your neck and ear as he sighs in frustration. you can't deny the little tingle it made you feel inside. but hey, anyone would be nervous if a brick wall like bi-han was in breathing vicinity...

•you snap the photo, seemingly satisfied but now fighting a flustered expression. when you look it over, you realize no, this isn't enough. johnny would leak his own sex tape with a model to beat you at this stupid game, and while you weren't necessarily ready to start blowing the ninja, you knew you needed to get one step ahead.

•"can we take... one more?" you ask sheepishly, already trying to put into words what exactly you're going to ask from this expressionless man.

•"only if it's quick," he replies with a frown, crossing his arms.

•you take a deep breath, spinning to face him and nearly chest to chest from the tightness of the small bedroom you were given.

•pointing to your bed, bi-han almost instantly understands. his lips turn into a thin line as his cheeks are brushed with warmth, warmth that he tries to conceal from you with his hand as he rubs his face.

•he sits himself on the bed, propped up on his elbows with a knowing look in his eye. it's difficult to maintain eye contact as you crawl onto the edge of the bed, hesitant to do what you wanted. for a moment, you want to pull away and trash your entire plan. there's no way you were about to climb up and sit on a ninja grandmaster's lap as revenge against your movie star ex. how in the genuine hell did you end up in this situation??

•"come on, woman," bi-han grumbles, sitting up for a moment to abruptly wrap his hands around your hips and pulling you to sit atop his lap. you tense up, realizing you're now straddling him... and lowkey, he looks good under you. he also just manhandled you. hm. curious.

•you try to shift yourself to comfortably rest on his hips before seeming satisfied with the position. shakily, you reach up to snap a selfie, one that conceals his face but shows you sticking your tongue out and flipping the bird.

•and then you felt it.

•at first, it went unnoticed due to your nerves about the uncharacteristic closeness. but, once you settled to snap the photo, you realized that... bi-han was rock fucking hard underneath you. you weren't sure if you should acknowledge it, but regardless, it felt so perfectly sized against your clothed folds, and you make your interest unintentionally obvious when you let out a nervous whimper. bi-han's eyes remained trained onto yours with a hint of hunger in his low-lidded gaze. even though he wanted to initially hide the boner, it was now abundantly obvious and he felt a surge of confidence gauging your reaction. the hands that rested on your hips tightened, his cold fingers digging into your flesh.

•"you feel that?" he grumbles out, his body feeling suddenly incredibly hot against yours. you swallow and nod. as you do, his firm grip starts to rock your hips back and forth against his cock, the friction of the fabric dividing you two sending you wild already. "whose is bigger?"

•"...yours," you answer breathlessly, allowing yourself to be controlled by the cryomancer's hands. your confession was true, too. johnny's dick was long and lean, but bi-han's.... lord. it felt thick. even through layers of clothes it felt like it could tear you down the middle if he pounded hard enough. a new part of you wanted to find out.

•with a sudden haste, bi-han hikes up your skirt and top, holding the clothes bunched around your waist as he abruptly gives you even closer contact to his cock. you could feel it twitch and throb, and every part of you wanted to sink it into your throat to see how well it hugs your mouth's fleshy walls. his hands crawl underneath the bunched up clothes and settle on your hips, this time directly gripping the plush of them.

•a shiver shot down your spine, both with sudden arousal and the frosty trails on your body from his fingertips. even if he wouldn't admit it, he was just as excited as you were. he let out a low growl feeling your pussy leak through your panties and dampen his dick.

•"i hated the way he looked at you," he'd grumble, eyes fixated on the friction he was creating by manhandling your frame to grind against his. "wanted you all to myself — ngh —"

•you wanted so badly to stop and unpack that wild, sudden confession, but you were already fiending for his popsicle like a motherfucker. through your hazy vision, you see bi-han lock eyes with you, a devilish glint present. he reaches between the two of you and palms himself while you try to relieve the pressure on your clit using the back of his hand.

•finally fed up with the foreplay, bi-han pushes you off of him, making you elevate your body on your knees. he tugs his shirt up and his pants down. his member springs free from the tight constraints, and lord help us all, it's as long and thick as it felt through the pants.

•"you wish to get back at that pompous wannabe?" he asks, voice dangerously husky. "get to it then." obeying like a dog, you settle between his parted legs. still holding his dick, he slaps it against your cheek expectantly.

•the tension, the hunger, and the high emotions overtook your strength to remain proper in front of the grandmaster as you eagerly licked at the base of his shaft, trailing kisses all the way to the warm tip. once you feel properly sure of his size, you slowly but surely sink him into your mouth, barely able to get his dick deep enough without causing a strain on your jaw muscles. bi-han tries to keep his arousal under wraps, but when he feels you hollow out your cheeks to give him the greatest pleasure possible, he lets out a little whine of surprise, though it still sounds more animalistic due to his grumbly voice.

•you hold this position for a moment, letting your warmth completely encapsulate his freezing body. you were starting to see stars in the corner of your eyes before bi-han harshly pulls you up by your hair, making you sputter for breath. a thin trail of saliva follows your lips as he raises your head.

•"wait," he commands breathlessly, fumbling with his other hand to find your phone that was discarded onto the mattress. when he does find it, he struggles even more, mind blank from horniness and also his unfamiliarity with smart devices. you chuckle to yourself, climbing back up to his chest and weaving your way between his arms to show him how to record a video. when it's finally figured out, you crawl back down to where you were and grab his cock with a full hand, stroking it lazily. he winces.

•"sensitive already?" you ask in a low tone, giggling to yourself. bi-han didn't have much time to relieve his sexual desires, so it's no wonder that the slightest bit of head nearly sends this man flying to the moon. "i expected more from you, grandmaster—"

•"—shut the fuck up," he replies sternly, not finding your teasing all too funny. "i'll silence that whore mouth."

•woah

•and with that, he holds the phone up, angled downward at you as you angle your lips on his tip again. he grabs the fistful of your hair and sinks you down once more, this time holding you in place. you barely had time to get some air in before getting your throat thoroughly plugged. you put your hands on his thighs to ensure you'd stay upright, but always sure to look at the camera as you gag and drool.

•"that's more like it," he'll purr, pushing your hair from your face as he holds you still. he then directs his voice to the camera. "how about that, cage? taught your dog some new tricks. i'd say she's exceeding expectations."

•when he finally lets you breathe, you only get a couple gasps before willingly taking his cock again, this time bobbing rhythmically. bi-han, as a ninja, is incredibly good at staying silent, so all he can do is let out occasional exhales and sharp intakes of breath as you suck him off.

•you're sure to put on more of a show than usual for the video, looking into the camera with a sultry smile even with your lips stretched out to accommodate for his giant dick. you've got an expression that says "fuck you."

•when bi-han has enough of your pace, he starts to buck his hips into your throat, creating a nasty gargling sound in the back of your head that would be otherwise nauseating. you're surprised he's not ripping the hair straight from your scalp as he death grips a fistful. frosty hands grip the sheets, solidifying them with a thin sheet of ice as he nears the edge. his body can't decide between lurching forward and arching back as you make him cum.

•he's a silent orgasm-haver. bi-han bites down hard on his lower lip as he releases, clenching his eyes shut and knitting his brows together. and boy, does he love to ride the high of fucking your face. he loves it even more knowing he'll have an audience.

•he wanted to cum into your mouth so badly, but even he knew better. he had to make the money shot something memorable. cum painted your face beautifully, dripping down your cheeks and catching in your eyebrows. there was even a thick streak starting from your hairline. with no time to ever do this himself, his jizz accumulated within him for quite some time, now soaking your entire face.

•bi-han stops the video, but only to snap photos of your messied, flushed face. gripping your cheeks to hold you in place, he's sure to make sure every drop of cum is within camera shot as he catches his breath.

•you swipe a glob of his load from your forehead and stick your finger in your mouth, tasting his arousal for you with a smirk.

•"definitely sending that to him," you giggle as he tucks his dick back into his pants. "i'm in your debt, bi-han." normally, he would've protested the use of his first name from an associate of liu kang, but he was too high from his orgasm to really give a shit. instead, he grumbles a small "mhm," and nods, fighting a little smirk himself.

•he stands up and grabs a loose towel, holding up your face more sweetly this time as he wipes you clean. the gesture was oddly soothing. he seemed like a pump and dump kind of man, and he probably is! but you're touching a sweet spot he didn't know he even had. even so, he's silent, never once communicating this and instead expressing it through the minor gesture.

•a relationship doesn't quite blossom yet, but the sexual tension between you two is now incredibly obvious to the lin kuei. his gaze lingers, as does yours. the touches during training last a moment longer. your silly little plan of making johnny angry seemed to have blossomed a new... situationship? we'll unpack that some other time.

•the following morning, your phone rings. it's johnny.

•"DID YOU BLOW THE FUCKING ICE NINJA?!"

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mk1 #bi han #bi han x reader #johnny cage smut #sub zero #sub zero x reader #bi han smut

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irisintheafterglow · 11 months

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if he's a ghost, then I can be a phantom

summary: the strawhats are summoned back to baratie so sanji can cook for a high-class diner. they can't figure out why zoro is so nervous. (opla!zoro x you)

wc: 2k

cw/tags: swearing, mentions of food and eating, established relationship, pet names (sweetheart, doll, lover, pretty), spoilers if you squint, sanji being himself and zoro having absolutely none of it

note: this was requested by an anon a few weeks ago and i finally got around to writing it!! every time i write for zoro, i have a new favorite fic i've made because he's just so fun to write for. hope you enjoy!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“You know, they’re a lot hotter in person.”

“Shut your mouth, waiter, or I’ll skewer it closed,” he mutters with palpable distaste. Another swig of rum burns down his throat and, for the first time that the crew can remember, Zoro seemed nervous. It wasn’t obvious, but they’d sailed long enough to know that he never stopped surveying a room for threats, no matter how familiar he was with it. Today, though, the only thing that took his attention was the rim of his glass and he was subtly avoiding the eyes of the crew’s target. “This is the dumbest idea you’ve had in a long time.”

“Thank you for your input, Zoro. I will, however, be belaying it,” his captain replies brightly, unfazed by the blank expression of his first mate. The uneasy faces of his crew only makes him beam more, giddily excited for the anticipated challenge. “C’mon, guys. We’ll be fine. They just need to see how awesome we are and they’ll totally give us a new sail!”

“Loud, loud, too loud,” Zoro warns in response to the increasing volume of Luffy’s voice. They were already causing enough of a scene, as is, and he damn sure didn’t want other guests looking in their direction. To make matters worse, the amount of alcohol in the table’s bottle was dwindling too quickly for comfort.

“Hey, if we’re lucky,” Usopp offers, “we might just get a whole ship. You know, maybe one that Captain Usopp can command as the second ship in the Straw Hat fleet.”

“You think we’ll get a whole fleet?”

“Hell yeah. Maybe, we can all captain our own ships–”

“Alright, let’s get our heads out of the clouds,” Nami cuts in. “We still need to figure out how we’re going to get over there, in the first place. And just for the record, I’m with Zoro on this one.”

“First time for everything,” he deadpans. She smartly elects to ignore his sarcasm and continues to argue why the plan is a bad idea. The call from Zeff came at an opportune time and during an unfortunate situation when the Merry sailed straight into a torrential thunderstorm that ripped the main sail clean down the middle. Despite their best efforts to patch it up, it was beyond repair; with the Marines constantly on their tail, having a working sail was a matter of survival. Zeff’s reluctant summons for Sanji to cook for a special guest provided a means to buy a new sail and have a little extra spending money. But, in his wildest dreams, Zoro could not have predicted that the special guest was you. The smug look on the chef’s face snaps him out of his thoughts. “Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen, waiter?”

“Shouldn’t you be downing the rest of this bottle, drunk?”

“I’ll smash this damn bottle on your head, I swear–”

“No, no. Zoro has a point,” Luffy agrees. Sanji gives him an odd look and he quickly realizes what his statement insinuated. “Not about smashing the bottle on your head. We need you to bring them your food so then I can go over and talk with them.”

“You don’t think I can charm them on my own?”

“Don’t look so aghast, blondie,” Zoro answers and receives a knife-sharp glare in response. “This is not someone who will entertain your theatrics.”

“How would you know anything about them, hmm? I believe you’re a little too dead inside for their liking,” Sanji baits and Zoro’s on the verge of biting before Nami steps in again.

“Sanji, get in the kitchen. Let’s just get the money and get out of here.” Zoro silently thanks her in his head for effectively ridding the chef of the table for the time being. His gratitude turns into a grimace when she turns to him expectantly. “You’re gonna hate me for asking–”

“Then don’t ask,” he finishes. She doesn’t relent.

“How do you know them? It seems like you’re nervous about being here, but we’ve never met them before as a crew.” Hitting the damn nail on the head. “So, you must’ve met them when you were still hunting down pirates. Am I right?” He grumbles an unreadable response, but the slightly pink shade of his face tells the table everything they need to know. “You’re terrible at covering up secrets.”

“I don’t remember asking.”

“Ah, you’ve got him on the run, now. He’s deflecting,” Usopp chuckles, immediately shutting up when Zoro shoots him a deadly scowl. He hated that all of them were right and would never admit it to save his life. After all this time, seeing you still made his heart rate skyrocket and cause his hands to clam up with boyish nervousness. You were just as beautiful as the last time he saw you, instances that were too few and far between for his own liking. Your father would have a fit if he saw you in such an unregulated environment as Baratie, but he knew that you were safe. As long as you breathed the same oxygen, he vowed no harm would come to you.

“I met them when I first started hunting,” he admits and the words felt wrong on his tongue. Every nerve in his body was telling him to stop revealing his relationship to you. It didn’t matter if he’d almost died surrounded by his crew; his connection to you was sacred and something he was going to take to his grave. It was mostly for your safety, the late-night sneaking out and stolen displays of affection. In another life, he wouldn’t have to hide you from other hunters that wanted to see him fall. “Their father is a captain in the Marines. When I first met them, they were training with Mihawk. Their father wanted them to be the most feared Marine in the seas.” The jaws of his friends fell to the table and he knew how wild it sounded, a legacy Marine trained by a pirate lord. “But, Mihawk taught them more tricks than just swordfighting and their father fired him on the spot.”

“He taught them sympathy for pirates,” Nami concludes and he nods. “Why are you so shifty around them?” He shrugs half-heartedly and tries to make it look like his face wasn’t on fire.

“Just haven’t seen them in a while,” he states, zeroing in on the blonde asshole waltzing to you with a plate. Your surrounding guards stiffen, hands flying to the weapons at their belts. You, however, roll your eyes and tell them to stand down. He knew you hated going out with security because they were always watching, watching, watching. “Eyes up. The waiter’s making a move.”

A strange sense of nausea washes over him as he watches you smile politely at Sanji, laughing softly at his jokes and kindly nodding as he explains the dish to you. You trust them, Zoro keeps telling himself. That waiter doesn’t stand a fucking chance. All the reassurances don’t stop his gut from churning when Sanji does his signature lean-down-and-whisper-suggestively into your ear. To his surprise, however, you don’t immediately meet the chef’s eyes. Your attention flicks to Zoro, instead, with a look that he knows all too well.

Please get me out of this.

Despite the protests of the table, he’s standing in an instant and walking with his hands on his swords like your guards didn’t even exist. His sight becomes tunnel-vision on nothing but you and he bypasses your guards with ease. Your shoulders relax when he stations himself protectively behind you, much to the confusion of the chef in front of you. As subtle as he can, he rests his hand on the back of your chair, inching closer until he’s just barely touching your shoulder. It’s small, but speaks wonders for his presence.

“Zoro,” you murmur without looking up, your fingertips brushing against his knuckles. Your touch on his skin after so much time away feels electric.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Sanji stiffens at the term of endearment so easily leaving Zoro’s mouth and you can sense the boost it does for his ego. “Whatcha got there?”

“My new friend was just telling me about the dish he made. He said he crafted it especially for me, with his own hands,” you inform him with a sly sparkle in your eye. His jaw clenches unconsciously. You knew exactly what was going on in Zoro’s mind and he knew it, too. “Apparently, he can work wonders with his hands,” you remark casually and you can hear the chair crack under the force of the swordsman’s hand gripping it. To your delight, Sanji’s face has also taken on a slightly darker shade of red at how crassly you echo his suggestion. And in front of his rival, no less.

“Was he, now?” His tone is lethal and it sends goosebumps up your arms. “Well, it best be time for him to get back in the kitchen, no?”

“Mmm, but he said he had a proposal for me–”

“I had one for you too, though I did ask you in a much finer establishment than this one.” You can’t help the smirk that spreads on your face and you have to look to the side to keep from laughing aloud. Zoro’s jealousy was rearing a very indignant head; you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it a little hot. “Got that stone on your left hand to prove it.” Sanji’s eyes darted to the band wrapped around your finger, a ring that looked suspiciously like the one hanging from a chain around Zoro’s neck. “Give us some time alone, yeah?” His question becomes rhetorical as he pulls out a chair next to you and tugs your seat closer until you can cross your leg across his. His palm rests possessively over your thigh and the chef gapes for a few moments more before turning back to the kitchen.

“That goes for all of you, please,” you order your guards without looking at them, absentmindedly tracing Zoro’s jawline with the back of your pointer finger. “Take my bag and buy however many drinks you want. I’m safe,” you state with absolute certainty. Once they’re gone, all you see, feel, and know is him.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you smile just as softly. “What’re you doing in a place like this?”

“I can ask you the same question, pretty.” His eyes shine with nothing but adoration. You forgot just how much you missed him.

“Took a detour to prolong my time at sea. I didn’t want to go home just yet.”

“Your old man’s being an ass again?”

“You know how he is,” you reply. “Why are you here?”

“Believe it or not, that blonde shithead is my crewmate. We’re here to get some extra Berry for a new sail.”

“Sail, hmm? I always knew you had a little pirate in you,” you tease and he sticks his tongue out immaturely. “Heard you fought my esteemed mentor. I don’t know what the hell you were thinking.”

“You don’t think I can beat him?”

“I don’t think I can fathom what will happen if you don’t,” you say quietly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “Don’t do any dumb shit, okay?”

“You’re acting as if I’m already leaving you again.”

“Aren’t you?” Your smile is sad and it makes his chest ache. When he beat Mihawk and killed your bastard father, he was going to give you the life that you deserved.

“Not yet,” he promises. “I don’t wanna go yet.”

“I don’t want you to go, either. How much do you need for that sail?” He gives you a number and you don’t even blink. You just nod and reach into your coin purse, fishing around and deciding to just give him the entire pouch. “Will that cover it?”

“Doll–”

“It’s a yes or no question, husband,” you say with lighthearted sternness. He shakes his head in exasperation but can’t hide the grin painting his features.

“Yes, lover. It’s more than enough.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you hum in contentment. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Of course. D’you mind introducing me to the rest of your crew besides the flirty waiter?”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #opla x you #opla x reader #opla x y/n #zoro fluff #opla fluff #ask iris!#one piece x y/n

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