#this exhausted me because this isn’t something I like to talk about

[shandycandy278]

that post u reblogged frames antis in a dishonest way... literally all we want is for people to be normal about minors and siblings.

but the issue is that most of the bad stuff is framed in a neutral light. or worse, it just exists for someones pleasure. which knowing fandom spaces, is going to be the case a rather high percentage of the time.

antis arent evil, and its clear that that post is coming from a close minded person.

sorry i just got up and seeing a post framing me as someone who wants to censor the whole internet makea me mad. i LOVE being not censored. its just some stuff HAS to be censored because its just morally gross.

but as i said, as long as that morally gross stuff is framed as it is, morally gross, im fine.

No, you’re right. Anti’s aren’t evil. But they’re not entirely right either. There’s a LOT of miscommunication going on in the drama surrounding them, and I will happily take a chance to try and communicate about this as clearly and calmly as I can.

I’m not mad or upset or anything, PLEASE do not see this as me being like “actually you’re WRONG”. That’s not it at all. I’m just going to be going over what was brought up in the post you are talking about, and how I interpreted them/what I believe.

(TW/CW: talk of the pro/anti drama, pedophilia, incest, abuse, murder, suicide, terrorism, rape, censorship)

I’m very confused as to how you thought this was an attack on you. The post was literally talking about how the response they have is very natural and good. Especially in real-life situations, because those sorts of things are wrong in real life. If you reread the post, you’ll see that it compares it to an automatic immune system for fandom spaces and the like. There was no hate or shade thrown, because you guys are necessary and right that incest and pedophilia is wrong. There’s nothing that says that you are not right.

But it also says that fiction is something that requires different approaches in this regard. People writing and drawing about pedophilia and Incest don’t want it to happen in real life an know it’s abusive and shady IRL. They KNOW it’s wrong, they aren’t denying that it’s wrong. The post actually explains this part better than I’ve seen many others describe this, and if you read it, you’ll find that they go on to define that exploring this sort of what-if thing in a fictional setting helps us, as humans, process the horrors of the reality and and the reality of the situation.

I’ve written about characters committing suicide and killing each other. Does that mean I want everyone to kill each other and then themselves? No. But I couldn’t fully process and define how that made me feel. Not until I wrote about it in a fictional setting. I didn’t even realize how horrible it was that I had almost offed myself years before that, back before I found writing and fanfiction. Not until I wrote about it. Now if I write characters killing themselves, it’s a reminder to myself. My life is valuable.

People make shows and the likes about serial killers too, you know. There’s fiction out there that highlights that, slavery, abuse, rape, terrible addictions, genocide, cults- but Anti’s don’t get upset about those. Not really.

Because those are ALL horrible, terrible things. Things that suck about our world, things that we hear about and it makes us feel sick. Because they’re BAD. Everyone knows they’re bad. Proshippers, Anti’s- EVERYONE. The only people who don’t know that are the people being abused and the people abusing them (depending on the situation).

You can drop into a pro shipper or Anti’s inbox and ask “how do you feel about school shootings, incest, pedophilia, rape, and the likes IRL?”, and they will respond with “man they SUCK humans sucks I wish people wouldn’t do that, I wish humans would (insert something to try and get the horrendous acts to stop). I hate that it exists IRL.” Or something along those lines.

But I haven’t seen anything telling writers and artists to stop creating content on those things. Why? Because creating them in a fictional reality helps us process the truth of it.

All of this was also in the post! I understand if it was a hard read because you felt like you were being attacked by it, but I do NOT think the post’s intent was to “attack” antis. Heck, “anti” is even in quotes because I’m fairly certain OP was only using the title so that people would see it and know that this is what they were discussing. It was just to try to explain the dilemma to people who didn’t know, or to those who have chosen one moniker or another not knowing what exactly it means or what’s happening. An analysis, if you will.

But I’d like to gently ask (if you can find it in yourself to, because I’m not going to force you to do something you’re uncomfortable with) that you take a deep breath, push your feelings about the drama and the likes to the side, and re-read it. It really summed up everything nicely, with a comparison that is honestly very true- not just for fandom, but for a lot of humanity. Again, if you don’t, I understand. It’s very hard to reread a post after it gets you all huffy and puffy and upset. (Especially when you hate feeling like that, like I do, and it makes everything worse.) But it’s ALSO very hard to see what exactly is being talked about in a post and what the point of the post is if you read it huffy and puffy. Again, you don’t HAVE to, but it’s something I’d recommend trying if you feel up to it.

Along side that, I don’t think pedophilia and incest in fandom was ever intended or meant for it to be centered AROUND the fact that it was pedophilia or incest. Not unless it was a MAJOR story/plot point, or a part of the source material (like in a LOT of various Anime. I’ll be very honest, it’s a surprise that anime has not been brought up/referenced in any pro/anti drama I’ve seen so far. There is a LOT of fictional pedophilia/incest going on in there. Then again, Japanese fandom has stated that they don’t care about antis/proshippers or any of this sort of thing and will just happily block anyone who tries to drag in drama or throw them into mud. Maybe that’s why. Idk).

I personally think it started because people liked the idea of the character types and personalities working off of each other. Not because of some “HIDDEN SECRET EVIL PREDATOR URGE”. They just like how the characters acted together and had chemistry, thought it was cute, and went with it. The fact that it was incest and/or pedophilia wasn’t even at the forefront of their minds. They literally went “OOO TWO PRETTY CHARACTERS they should kiss”.

And honestly, that’s a lot of what shipping just… is. It’s deciding you like how two characters interact, taking it, and running off with it. Shipping discourse exists because people disagree on how that should happen and what dynamics should be in a ship, too! Because it happens soooo often. This isn’t much different, even if it’s a ship that others or many May view as problematic.

The post WAS admittedly a bit confusing about this next topic, so I understand if this was a big basis towards confusion, but-

I am a firm believer that people should create what they want to make, and not what others want to see from them.

And this post says much the same, in the later parts of it. Just phrased weirdly.

If this means that they make a bunch of stuff about incest, porn, pedophilia, murder- that’s not our business.

We are in no right to tell them what they should or should not create. It doesn’t matter their reasoning. It is their freedom to make whatever they want. No one should be policed over their own content, which they make for themselves.

But You know what is within your right to do?

Blocking them.

You have every right to block them so that you don’t have to see what they’ve made. If you don’t like it, I recommend you familiarize yourself with the block button and blocking tags, too.

And I think this is SO IMPORTANT for people to do.

A lot of proshippers have adopted this tactic, did you know? A lot of them block other proshippers and the likes ALL THE TIME, because they don’t like the content that that person makes. It’s fascinating. Proshippers will even do their best to respect Anti shippers by blocking them, so that the Anti won’t ever have to see the Proshipper’s works. And if proshippers find that someone is actually IRL a pedophile or a predator like that (a rare occurrence, mind you), they will block them, too! (Like what happened with an NSFW artist named Neahchan some time back).

But I think SOME (not all) Anti’s don’t understand that this is the easiest and safest way. Because you want to know what those FEW (not all) Antis do if they follow a proshipper?

If they are not blocked immediately, one of the first things those few do is harass the person. Cyber bully them. Maybe something small at first, but it gets to big things quickly. “You are sick I can’t believe you support this, let me make a full on call out post about this to tell everyone to isolate and bully you too”. If the proshipper chooses to comment or argue against the allegations, harassment just gets worse. If they block it then, it saves some face, but the drama swells horribly and it takes HUGE blows on their mental health.

Do you remember those videos about the kid that was bullied online and in school? About how they were going to kill themselves because they felt so horrible? That’s what those few antis are doing. They’re doing that to a human being.

(To me, this is the big issue. This is the thing we should REALLY be talking about instead of if a ship is okay to ship or whatever.)

If the proshipper blocks them right away, it’s a lot less impactful and a lot less harm is done. And those few antis will pick up a fuss about it “why did you block me! Your AUs are so cool! Whatever I’m going to try and harass you anyway”. (This is something that has actually happened recently to Skumhu, the creator of leviathan tale.)

When proshippers usually talk about Antis, it’s often these antis specifically that they’re talking about. The ones that harass and cyber bully them over completely fictional things that have no impact on the real world.

But why am I bringing up blocking people, anyway? You were talking about censorship.

That’s because blocking is a form of censorship, just personal to you.

If you were to go out one day and censor the entirety of the internet from, let’s say, images of any and all kinds of skeletons because skeletons and their symbolism made you uncomfortable, you’d get a LOT of people really upset at you. Because skeletons mean something completely different to them.

Okay, well, what if you prevented people from talking about and discussing terrorism by censoring them? It’s bad and horrible, surely if we stopped talking about it then it would stop. But now a lot of people who were victims or terrorism are upset because they had safe spaces where they could talk about their traumas and express them without fear. They don’t get that anymore with censorship in play. And now, terrorists have actually increased their attacks because there isn’t enough awareness going around, and people can’t prepare to defend themselves or keep themselves safe because they can’t even find out that it’s happening.

So now what if we censor pedophilia? Horrible, gross. SURELY something that’s influenced from everything going on online, so stopping it would put a stop to it. Right?

I promise, the same exact thing that I described above with terrorism will happen here.

Victims would not be able to discuss or share their experiences safely, or recover in their own way. Children would be put into further risk because parents wouldn’t be taught how to teach kids to watch out for the signs of a predator and notify their parents. Some parents might not even know of what signs to look out for, because we censored all the content of it.

Full, complete censorship of something gives oppressors the power to be more oppressive.

I understand being uncomfortable when fictional characters are written as incestuous or pedophilic, but if you want to censor the uncomfortable and icky gross stuff entirely, you should be ready for the consequences of censoring EVERY LITTLE THING about it because extremists and religious extremists will take what you’ve done and make it ten times worse. It’s not worth the pain and suffering it would cause. Not worth the lives that would be lost or the lack of support systems in place for survivors.

Is this every Anti’s vendetta? ABSOLUTELY NOT! But that doesn’t mean that censorship doesn’t give the abusers the power and freedom they need to hurt people.

There’s a reason why these are the signs of people in abusive relationships, and that’s because the lack of knowledge and support someone has, the more power the abuser has.

The safest and healthiest way isn’t to censor the whole internet because you’re uncomfortable with something. It’s to block users and tags who make you personally uncomfortable. It’s SO much better for your mental health, AND theirs. No one gets harmed, hurt, or cyberbullied.

It’s so important to know that there is SUCH a vast range of pro and anti people. There are certainly proshippers that are abusers, trolls, or jerks. Just like there are also antis who are the same.

(Trust me. I’ve been hurt by both a proshipper and an anti shipper. I’d rather not have to talk about my experiences with them to prove my point, because I’m also friends with pros and antis. It’s also a very private experience, and just mentioning that it happened is something that makes me feel weird.)

Repeat after me the 15% rule: in any given group of people, 15% of them are just the worst, most horrible and sucky people you could ever meet. And those people should be blocked for EVERYONE’S mental health and well being, but more specifically, YOUR mental health and well being.

I apologize if this doesn’t make sense or if there are any typos. It’s 5:30 in the morning and I haven’t slept, but I just… HAD to say this.

I’m so sorry you got hurt by that post and felt like it was attacking you. That was not my intention and I doubt that that was OP’s intention, either. But it’s SO important to me that people are free to do as they wish and create what they want in safe fictional spaces, to define that proship does not mean they support those things IRL, and the issues with censoring the icky gross stuff.

#ask sc #drama #pro shipping #anti shipping #pro ship #anti ship #pro anti drama #stars it’s 6AM now #i need to sleep so I can go to work tomorrow but I don’t think I can anymore #this exhausted me because this isn’t something I like to talk about #because blocking and moving on is just so much easier and safer than having to spill my heart out #but you are my friend and I care for you #so I did it anyway #and even if you disagree still #or even decide to block me or something because of it #I’d be okay with that #it might hurt but you’d be talking care of your mental health and well being #and that’s far more important to me than anything else #same with any other mutuals who read this

[irrolyphant]

The trouble with having spent your whole life building a neurotypical wall so that you don’t come off as “strange” to the people you don’t live with is that the moment you let it drop they’re all over you with “are you sure you’re okay, you’re not yourself today.” Like, yes, for the last time, I’m fine. This is myself, I’m just tired and autistic 😖

#i’m exhausted #. #a bunch of them KNOW i’m not ‘‘one of them’’ and they STILL pester me. like. jeeeeez #and they say ‘‘have i done something wrong. you’re not as talkative as you usually are’’ #like. this isn’t about you. don’t make me feel guilty just because YOU can’t understand this #/rant over

[hobisexually]

x

#y’all I’m exhausted #my cat keeps going on the litter box but not doing anything #and I think she just doesn’t like the stuff in it and the box is too small so I ordered a new one but it will take two days to get here and #I don’t know what to do!!!!!!! #and I keep waking up when I hear she gets on it in the middle of the night in stress checking whether she’s doing something #and she isn’t #and I keep having nightmares of her dying and having to tell her owner she didn’t last a week with me and she never should’ve brought her #last time she went on it was what? Sunday early morning? #its Tuesday it’ll be fine #but you know????????? #I also had to leave her behind for the first time today because I need to go to work #I stretched it by one day by working from home yesterday but yk #im so FRANTIC and I’m so stressed and my supervisor is leaving on holiday for three weeks so I’m in charge of the big stuff suddenly #which I’m not stable enough for atm at all I shouldn’t be in charge of anything in this state of mind #also apparently my dad is hurting a lot over not speaking to me and yeah my man same but ?????? what am I gonna do huh #it took me a WHOLE month to feel normal again after the disaster that was December we can’t keep doing this #I cried in the middle of a fancy restaurant last night #and then as if that wasn’t bad enough had to have a talk with my mum about racism and body image and religious trauma and how she can’t keep #getting in the middle of my dad and me and then it spiralled into a conversation abojt how my dad impacted HER #and how the divorce was hell for her for a reason because the emotional abuse was. hm. #and hearing that! also how much weight she lost then which I always thought was because she was sick but no it was him #very difficult to hear #fuuuuckkkkk meeeeeee y’all #and I can Feel my brain going around in circles like it’s anxiety central and I can’t stop it atm #shit man. #UGH #I HATE THIS SOMEONE KNOCK ME THE FUCK OUT #@ [redacted] go ahead honestly

[sillyblues]

𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you overhear a couple of spider-people talking about you and miguel

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by a scene of a drama i saw in tiktok at 11:30 pm whoops here’s a small scenario while i work on that hiding pregnancy with miguel fic

part 2

You hummed to yourself as you walked towards Miguel’s room. You were so excited to talk to him about how your days went and if you were lucky, maybe you’d get to hear how his day went as well. It wasn’t like he doesn’t talk about himself, of course he does, you two were practically the bestest of friends now. It’s just that nowadays, he seemed more stressed and preferred to listen to you talk. Or at least you hoped so. He never really complained each time you rambled his ears off (which was like 83790134 times a day oops).

But a mention of your name in a hushed conversation stops your tracks.

“... [Name] is pretty close to Miguel, huh?” the conversation was actually a bit far from where you stood but thanks to your extreme superhearing, you were able to hear what they were talking about. You tilted your head. I wonder why they’re talking about me…

“Nah, I don’t think so. Miguel doesn’t even seem to like them.” You grumbled under your breath. That’s just what it looked like to others. They didn’t know that you know Miguel’s favourite empanadas are the ones sold by a Mexican granny on a stand right around the corner outside the building. They didn’t know that Miguel actually remembers what you say to him and even reacts to your stories. If that isn’t what you call friends in their natural behaviour, you don’t know what to call it.

“Yeah, it’s probably because they never stop talking. Their mouth just never know how to close for at least 10 minutes.”

“Miguel is probably annoyed at them. I wonder how he manages to keep his patience from running out with them.”

You bit your lip. Yeah, they were right…You admit that you talk a lot and you do feel a bit bad about it. But your friends haven’t told you to stop talking or that you were bothering them yet so you thought it was fine with them. If your friends said something about it, you would definitely stop and try to talk less for them. You were sure your friends would say something if they were uncomfortable, especially Miguel. You believe in them and you believe in him.

“I know right! If I was him, I would…” so you took a step forward and continued to walk towards your destination. Only this time, you weren’t humming.

.

.

.

“Hi, Miguel! Good afternoon! Such a lovely day, isn’t it?” you quirked up immediately as soon as you stepped foot into his office. As usual, he was on top of his floating station. Most of the time, he worked on planning and storing files with Lyla about which planets had been reported with anomalies. Sometimes, he watched videos of his daughter Gabriella and himself despite having already seen them countless times.

Miguel was lonely. You could see that. Sure, he had Jess and Hobie and Peter, but Jess was pregnant, Hobie was busy fighting against the government and being cool, and Peter had Mayday. You try your best to be with him because maybe he would feel less lonely with you around for him. Maybe he would be distracted by whatever you say from his exhaustion and his pain.

You swung yourself and landed on his platform. He was standing with multiple yellow screens hovered almost around him. His hands were on his waist and there was a glare on his face as he stared at it. He gave you a brief glance before turning his attention back to his work. Well, looks like today is a busy work day for him, huh. 

“Hey booo,” Lyla appeared in front of you and waved. You grinned at her. “Hey, Lyla! What’s up?”

“Ugh nothing much, except for Mr. O’hara on his red flood apparently.” She leaned and covered the side of her lips to whisper but it was no use to the said person with his abilities.

“I heard that.” His exasperated response was instant but he didn’t look away from the screen.

“Really? You did?” She asked with a higher and tightened voice with amusement. She then flashed a quick message to you. 

Miguel has been working even after you left three days ago. He wouldn’t take a rest no matter how many times I told him.

What? You looked at the back of his head in alarm. Worry immediately settled in your head and you furrowed your brows. Before you could convince him to stop, Lyla quickly made the message disappear and announced, “Oops, my power is running low. Gotta charge them now, byeeee.”

“I literally just checked your levels yesterday. Come back here—” he was cut off by her disappearing form.

He groaned and in his frustration, he swapped away the nearby items on the table. Most of them were papers but unfortunately, he didn’t notice he also swept away the teddy bear that you gifted him. It was similar to one Gabriella had and you knew this from the videos you watched with him. You thought how nice it would be to have at least a physical reminder of your love and not just ones you can see and hear. 

“I’ll get it, don’t worry!”

From his strength, the bear was flung high and without even thinking you walked backwards as you focused on its direction. You were being stupid because you forgot that you were on top of a floating platform and the floor wasn’t endless. The bear was almost near within your reach and with just one more step, you would be able to get it.

That one more step didn’t step on any solid floor but instead on air and so, you fell but not without the teddy bear in your hands. 

“[Name]!” Miguel shouted and you looked at him and finally, he was looking at you now. He ran at your falling figure with arms reaching out to you and for a second, you thought there was a tinge of panic and desperation laced in his hoarse voice and wide eyes. 

Sticky web was shot at your chest and you were quickly pulled towards him. You were hit against his figure and he caught you in his arms. You stilled and flushed, your ear was pressed against his chest and you could hear his roaring heart that beat so fast. He immediately shook you by your shoulders and yelled at you. “What were you thinking? Why weren’t you looking?”

“I mean, I was trying to catch it—” you flinched.

“Are you stupid? ¿y si te lastimas?” his nails were digging into your skin and his grip was beginning to hurt. You tried to laugh but came it off weakly.

“I just don’t want to see my gift get dirty. Besides, I’m fine—,” you tried to joke, hoping it would ease the tension and calm him down.

“Just shut up! Shut up!” he pushed you away with a growl, “Stop being so fucking reckless. I could have done it by myself. Stop annoying other people by doing stupid shit like this!”

He was breathing heavily, anger so deep in his eyes. Your eyes were wide and tears threatened to fall as you listened until it finally fell once he said his final word. Maybe the realization had finally settled in Miguel’s mind at what he had just said. His eyes widened in panic and reached out to you but you took a step back.

Your head hung low as you let his words sink in. Annoying? You couldn't even laugh bitterly like you usually do in situations like this. They were right. You were annoying him. You bit your lip. Had you been a bother to him all this time? How come Miguel never said anything?

Suddenly, his cold indifference to you was so clear and obvious now. Memories of him visibly annoyed with a frown flashed through your head. The sudden awareness made your head hurt and it burned your heart. It throbbed with a pang and you felt incapable of breathing, the pain overwhelming.

No, Miguel wasn't responsible for telling you this. You should've known better, you called yourself his “bestest friend”. You shouldn't have talked to him. You shouldn't have approached him in the first place.

You were annoying. You were a nuisance. You were a problem.

Stupid. Stupidstupidstupidstupid—

“[Name], I,” he sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn't mean—”

“No, it's fine,” you wiped your tears and pressed the teddy bear you gifted him and wanted to catch for him. You wonder if this bear was also a bother for him. Maybe it was. Everything related to you is irritating. You were tiresome. “I should be the one to say that. I’m sorry.”

“I need to go now. I’m really sorry, again.” With a brief glance at him, you immediately turned around and swung down. You almost ran as you made your exit from his office. You did the know where exactly to go, only anywhere without him and far away from him. Strength had left you once you were outside his office and you walked and walked and walked. 

Maybe if you left, nobody would find you annoying anymore.

#blue writes! ✧˖*°࿐ #spiderverse 2 #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv angst

[imsilay]

MANIA

obsessive love; very possessive and often jealous.

mdni NSFW! +18 cw: possessiveness, size k!nk, fem!reader, obsessive König, dominant König.

summary: König doesn’t wants you to leave him, even for a second. he finds excuses and makes it your problem so he could fuck you until you’re too sore to leave again.

i will post part 2 <3 (english isn’t my first language sorry for the mistakes) edit: posted! here

art cr: @kinky-thirsty-reader

He doesn’t like when you try to leave him…

After a long night, you were exhausted, your body sore from head to toe. You tried to sit up and leave the bed, but suddenly König's arm snaked around your waist and held you down. "Where do you think you're going, Prinzessin?" he whispered. "I need to shower." you mumbled as you put your hands on his forearms and tried to push him away, but it was a pathetic attempt. You were so powerless compared to him.

“So klein~” he cooed.

He chuckled at your struggles. "I don't think so, Schatz. You're staying here, in my bed, where you belong…" he purred, kissing the back of your neck and pulling you even closer, pressing your back against his chest. "König, stop the nonsense. Let go of me, i really need to shower." you protested— you wish you didn’t. His arms tightened around your midsection, reminding you that he could snap your spine effortlessly. "Are you talking back, Prinzessin? Did you forget you’re mine?" he whispered, his tone now edged with discontent. His grip was far from loving anymore. “Do i need to remind you?” he hissed, he would fuck you dumb until you understand that you’re his. His to use for his own satisfaction, his to kiss whenever he decided to do, his to touch wherever he wants. You were simply his.

When you realized you were in trouble, chills ran down your spine. You quickly apologized. "No, I was just... I don't like being sweaty. I'm sorry." Your apology made him loosen his grip a little. He placed a tender kiss on your neck. He turned you around as if you weighed nothing and pressed you against his chest.

“Hmm... let's see," his voice teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He sat up, leaning his back against the headboard and had you straddle him. He lowered his hands from your waist to your thighs and gently caressed them. You let out a groan of relief and wrapped your arms around his neck, savoring the sensation of your lover's massage on your sore muscles. However, your relief was short-lived because he wasn't finished with you yet. "You tried to escape my bed. So you need to be punished, Hase." He squeezed your thighs until the pain in your sore muscles became almost unbearable.

You cried and whined but he shushed you softly, soothing you. “We’re not done, Liebling.” It was clear that his tone had changed again. The anger and firmness had given way to something more gentle, almost loving.

You slurred something for forgiveness and apologize nonstop. “Don't be sorry, Hase. I didn't like seeing you try to escape from me." he said with a hint of a pout. "But I think i can make a exception for you this time. What about you let me…" his rough hands slowly caressed your inner thighs making you shiver and gasp in anticipation. “use you as i please, then maybe i could let you rest.” he murmured as his hand found its way to your already wet panties. Your breath hitched and you squirmed on his lap as he teased your cunt through your panties until you’re soaked for him.

“You’re so easy to seduce, Schatz.” he chuckled lightly but his voice stained with pure lust. He lifted your chin up with his free hand to take a look at your lovely face. Your eyes red, your skin flush from all the crying and stimulation. It was all for him… right?

“Immer so empfindlich, wenn ich so mit dir spiele.” (Always so sensitive when I play with you like this.) he mumbled in German like he always did. You never understand what he said -mind foggy with lust and too focused to chase that sweet release.

He grinned with a proud expression and mumbled to himself. “Braves Mädchen.” he whispered before lifting his balaclava up just enough to capture your lips in a long passionate kiss.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked it <3

a/n: also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)

#könig mw2 #konig x you #konig x reader #konig smut #konig x y/n #i know it’s könig #könig x y/n #könig smut #obsessed könig #könig x reader #könig x you #könig fanfiction #könig #silay

[ghostfacd]

I’M A JEALOUS, JEALOUS, JEALOUS, BOY. | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. after gaining massive popularity, you star another show where you have to kiss your co star, which tom isn’t exactly happy about

AUTHOR NOTE. Two posts in one day? Who am I??anyway! This was self indulging because I love Steven Conklin and nobody writes for him 😔 As always, reblogs and comments make me more motivated to continue this series :)

installment of this au | the reader plays fictional character “ella fisher” in tsitp!

Tom wasn’t a jealous guy, at least, he didn’t think so. He was very secure in your relationship, always making sure he didn’t let his emotions get the best of him.

Like when you told him you had gotten the role of Conrad and Jeremiah Fisher’s sister in The Summer I Turned Pretty, and how you were Steven Conklin’s love interest, he congratulated you with a big hug.

He knew who was playing Steven—Sean Kaufman. There was no doubt that Steven was a very charming guy.

“You’re here!” You say giddily, engulfing your boyfriend in a hug when he approached you. “Daisy was just patching up the last of my concealer. Did you get any food?”

Daisy was your makeup artist—and one of the sweetest girls you’ve ever met in your life. She knew the cast pretty well, so when you first got here, she helped break the ice between you and them.

“You know I did,” Tom says, placing the paper bag down on your table. He opened it up, retrieving an iced matcha latte and a poke bowl. You squealed in delight, excited to eat after filming for so long.

“So how was your day?” You say, cheekily grinning at him as you ate your bowl.

“Tiring? I did a photo shoot, it was fun. Then I went home and took a nap, and then I drove to buy you food.”

“Well thank you babe,” you say. “Today was such an exhausting day, so much retakes cause of all the sand. But God do I love this show to death. It’s so much all at once but in a good way, you know?”

“Well I’m just excited to see my girl on the big screen,” Tom smiles, leaning in to give you a kiss on your forehead.

“YN! Time to film again!” The voice of your director calls out, making you shove your bowl into Tom’s hands and rushing over to the cameramen.

Tom carefully places your bowl down, walking over quietly behind the cameras to watch your scene up close.

He watches as you talk to Lola, who plays Belly, about your plans after high school, and how you wanted to apply for Princeton just like Steven. She rolls her eyes, saying how she doesn’t get how you and Steven get along so well.

Later in the scene, you and Sean sit close together in front of a campfire. Tom remembers vividly of you telling him there was a scene between your character and Steven where the two of you would get extremely close. Tom feels his breath hitch when he sees Sean make you laugh. He knows that it’s just acting—that your character and Sean’s character are love interests in the show, and that it means nothing in real life.

But he just feels so weird. His stomach is in knots, and it feels like his mouth is dry.

“You know,” Sean begins, leaning in close to your face. “I know Belly doesn’t want me liking any of her friends, and your brothers would totally kill me if they knew; but you’re making it so hard.”

“Really Steven?” You fake giggle, leaning closer to his touch. “Well they don’t have to know.”

Sean laughs at your comment, his head falling against your shoulder, something that Tom had always done with you.

And then he sees the director cue the cameramen to zoom in, and then there it is. — You and Sean kiss, and Tom feels his feet move away from the scene without even realizing.

“And… cut!” The director says, clapping. “Good job Sean and Y/N! You really captured the tension between Steven and Ella. That’s a wrap!”

You hug Sean afterwards, the two of you laughing about how stupid the kiss must’ve looked but you knew the viewers would eat it up once the episodes aired.

“Where’s that boyfriend of yours?” Gavin asks, suddenly showing up behind you and Sean.

“Gavin!” You say, putting your hand to your chest. “Way to scare a girl to death!”

Gavin laughs, poking at your sides teasingly. “Just kidding, I know where he is. Stormed off where Lola and Christopher are standing.”

“Storm off?” You say, confused.

“Seems like lover boy wasn’t too keen on you kissing our Sean over here.”

You quickly make your way towards where Lola and Christopher were standing, and just like Gavin had said, Tom was standing behind them. He didn’t look too happy.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, pulling the boy away for some privacy.

“It’s nothing.”

“Oh c’mon,” you scoff. “It can’t be nothing. Gavin said you stormed off earlier.”

Tom sighs, clearly wanting to drop the topic. But one look into your genuine concerned eyes makes him crack.

“I was jealous.” He admits, biting his lip back in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

You bite back a smile, arms linking with his. “Awe babe, it’s okay. Just acting. Just like how you kissed Rachel in the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah,” Tom sighs, bringing your body close to his. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have felt that way.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, smiling brightly. “Feeling jealous is bound to happen with our job, as long as we communicate about it, everything will be fine.” You hug his side, snuggling your face into his coat. “Plus, you know Sean has a girlfriend, right?”

“What?” Tom seems baffled, but he quickly covers it up. “No, yeah, I knew that.”

“Uh huh,” you tease, “don’t worry Tom, I love you the most.”

He leans down, making eye contact with you. “Well I sure hope so, because I love you the most as well.”

And everything was perfect until Gavin lets out a fake barf, telling the two of you to “get a room”.

“Oh get out of here Gav!” You say, shooing him away.

“Yeah Gavin, let the couple have their moment!”

That makes everyone laugh, and you swore you never felt happier than you did right now.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosbas #tbosas #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games

[arthur-r]

going to sleep at eleven being already late for sleeping enough tonight and then getting up when my mom gets up and talking for an hour and now it’s a complete lost cause

#i’m so lucky to be getting to school at 7:45 tomorrow instead of 7:00 #7 was the plan and i was going to be able to just show up early to my 1st hour teachers room and he said that was like good and fine #and when i asked a couple weeks ago if it was okay to show up at 7:00 every other monday and tuesday he said i don’t have to ask to be there #and that whenever he’s in the building i’m welcome. and i was like okay cool awesome rad. and then fast forward to the first monday where #i have to get there at 7 (reason being there’s no school bus despite the bus company telling us there is i swear to you there isn’t i have #waited and looked and there is not a school bus at the apartment i swear. and my friend who can drive me has student council those mornings) #and anyway the first monday where i got there at seven. teacher wasn’t there. stood outside the room for forty five minutes and finally got #there and let me in and i just kind of fell asleep for the next half hour from the exhaustion of having gotten there so early to begin with #so anyway just because you’re hypothetically comfortable with the idea of somebody hanging out in your room all the time doesn’t mean you #should avoid telling them that they will be standing in a school hallway for 45 minutes. like at this rate i should join student council #so anyway that wasn’t great. but last monday i got to school an hour late because i on purpose didn’t ride with the friend. to take the #stupid school bus i was talking about. and it never showed up and i made it to the last ten minutes of class. and was like hey sorry im late #um in the future i will be getting here an hour early so that this doesn’t happen is it ok if i go here or should i get dropped at library? #and teacher said of course i can get there early. but then. this friday after school i was there like 20 minutes while waiting for my sister #and for no apparent reason he just said. i dont know if i’ve ever told you this but i’m not a morning person #and theoretically that could be an apology for not saying hi back to me that morning or something. but could also be a polite way of saying #that i shouldn’t ever come in early. so idk. i wish people would just be straightforward with what they say and mean #ANYWAY the point is. these things combined made me very stressed to show up 7am expecting a place to be. but lucky for me there’s no 7:00 #meeting tomorrow it’s not until 7:45. so basically getting to school at a normal time. but help i’m getting like six hours at this point #anyway idk. have a lot of problems to work through unrelated to this and this is the only accessible normal one to speak of #(the other ones somewhat boil down to: i apparently have a lot of red flags and can’t handle relationships and am disliked by everyone) #so that’s fun and cool and normal. have been told a lot of my behaviors and emotions are REALLY bad. and like there’s truth to some things #obviously. and like yes i agree i have an anxious attachment style. yes i agree i may have bpd. but rough having my entire psyche torn apart #just like yeah you exist unhealthily and will never be normal and there is something deeply wrong with you and you’re doomed to the cycle #of abuse and trauma and just. not good things!! not good things to hear and internalize. idk. anyway i’m not talking about this #but yeah idk. so now i’ve been not sure how to exist and be normal. and distracting myself via meaningless school things #but yeah here i am. i should really go to bed. i’m just so tired and there’s so much. i dont know. goodnight world i’m sorry #vent cw #ask to tag

[irndad]

won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man. 

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one. 

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk. 

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership. 

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you. 

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself. 

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning. 

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks. 

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection. 

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone. 

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation. 

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically. 

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this. 

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting. 

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride. 

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth. 

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips. 

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic. 

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?) 

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner imagines #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner blurbs #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotch fic #hotch #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x bau!reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #ssa aaron hotchner #agent hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

[loveinhawkins]

”How do you do it?” Eddie asks.

The question slips out far too late at night, anxiety thrumming in his chest—he’s not escaped the feeling ever since the boathouse, when he simply couldn’t sleep, felt like a fox just waiting for hound dogs to get his scent, ready to run—

Steve doesn’t need him to explain further, as if he can somehow hear a whole lot of what Eddie’s not saying: like when he picked up the phone an hour ago and hadn’t even let Eddie tie himself in knots, had just said, so easily, “I’ll come get you,” like it wasn’t a huge inconvenience, like he’d been the one to call Eddie instead.

He’s considering Eddie from where he lies in bed, leaning on his elbow, and he’s still got the covers off pointedly—and that’s a big thing, Eddie thinks, a big thing he doesn’t know what to do with, because they’ve not talked, not really, not got much beyond the dizzying relief of still being alive.

But even fraught with profound lack of sleep, Eddie doesn’t think he’s misreading the look in Steve’s eyes.

I know, those eyes say, illuminated by the warm light of the bedside lamp. It’s okay, there’s no rush. I’m right here.

Eddie’s never seen that kind of look before. Not towards him.

“Sometimes Robin sleeps over,” Steve says thoughtfully. “And sometimes the kids are around, and they’re so annoying and I get, like, three hours, tops.” He says it with all the fondness in the world. “And sometimes I’m alone, and it’s fine.”

“What about the other times?” Eddie can’t help but whisper.

If it were a reasonable hour maybe he wouldn’t dare to ask at all, but exhaustion’s worn down the filter in his head—at this point it’s practically see-through.

Steve shrugs. “Yeah, they’re shit,” he says with such honesty that Eddie nearly asks it again, how do you do it?

“But then it’s, like, a new day,” Steve says slowly, like he’s carefully weighing up what to say, “and I can… drive.” The pause tells Eddie he means go to someone. “Or, like… call, if it’s really bad.”

Hey, I’m glad you called, man, Steve had said when Eddie got into his car earlier, like they were just going to the movies or something normal—like Eddie wasn’t shaking, forehead pressed against the passenger window.

Eddie feels his throat close up a little. Tries to sniff as quietly as possible.

“Eddie,” Steve says patiently. He moves back in the bed. Gives Eddie space. “C’mere.”

Steve keeps the lamp on which helps; this isn’t the boathouse, Eddie thinks, and the slightest bit of tension leaves his body. Even that feels like a miracle.

He’s just resigning himself to lying there, staring up at the ceiling so at least Steve can get some rest, when Steve turns and catches his eye, still wide awake.

“Tell me about The Lord of the Rings,” Steve says.

The tightness in Eddie’s chest loosens; he laughs in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Eddie turns so he’s facing Steve properly, attempts a casual shrug, knowing already that it’ll be too rigid. “I don’t know, man. We, uh. We kinda lived through Mordor already.”

His hand twists in the bedsheets, knuckles turning white.

I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had…

Steve’s hand reaches across, eases Eddie’s grip on the sheets, like he’s saying, neither did I. Just give it a shot.

“The shire, then,” Steve says.

Eddie smiles. “Steve Harrington,” he says, suddenly finding enough lightness to tease; he’s missed it. “Are you asking me for a bedtime story?”

“Nope,” Steve says. “We’re just gonna lie here and talk.”

And they do.

Steve asks questions which works out for the best—Eddie can’t quite remember the last time he read the books. To tell the truth, anything that happened before March often has a kind of fog over it.

He’s sure he’s dropped at least a couple of plot points somewhere along the way, but Steve never once complains that he’s not making sense, just gently prompts Eddie until… until…

“Mm, I know what you’re doing,” Eddie mumbles through a yawn that catches him unawares.

“Oh, do you now?” Steve says, sounding smug. God, Eddie loves him. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Eddie says. His eyelids are heavy. “Um.” He yawns again. “Where… where was I?”

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Steve says. It sounds like he’s smiling—Eddie would check, but it’s suddenly impossible to keep his eyes open.

It’s okay, he thinks hazily, melting into sleep without even thinking about it. He can ask Steve in the morning.

There’s no rush.

#on struggling with the aftermath #the trust in falling asleep in front of someone ❤️ #this may have a second part #a lil anxiety soothing stuff ❤️ #pre steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

[f1goat]

more than friends ; lando norris + part six

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

a/n: this is a rewritten story, you can find the explanation on my profile

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five

The dinner is going on and on. Normally you really like the dinners with the McLaren team, but tonight you can’t seem to focus on anything that’s happening around you. Lando isn’t seated close to you like normal, you don’t know how it happened but there is a couple seats between you. It causes you to stare at him all the time. Oscar however is sitting next to you. He’s nice and polite, but the both of you are a bit shy. Something that causes the conversation to go not as smooth as when Lando is with you. You couldn’t stop yourself and drank a bit more then you’d normally do. You try to talk it right for yourself, but all your excuses are around Lando. Instead of doing the wise thing and order a water or a soda, you order another cocktail when the waiter asks you for your drink order. Oops?

You don’t know what’s going on with you. Since you have arrived in the restaurant, you have been feeling vague. At first it was just because Lando was seated a bit far away from you, but eventually something else happened what causes you to feel like this. Maybe vague isn’t the right word, but you can’t confess the right word. That would make things so much worse. 

The weird, unsettling feeling in your stomach and head started when Lando started to talk with another girl. You don’t know her personally and you haven’t seen her around before. Nothing too weird since McLaren is growing rather fast and hires a lot of new employees quite often. If she’s from McLaren, you don’t know for sure. Lando is talking and laughing with her, it causes you to feel terrible. Every time he lets out a laugh, you feel yourself getting jealous. 

Oscar sends you a confused look when you take a big gulp from the cocktail the waiter just brought you. He seems even more confused when he looks at his own glass, which is still half full and was order a round earlier. You can only hope that Oscar doesn’t say anything about it, but you’re quick to let go of that hope when Oscar starts to talk. 

“Everything okay?” He asks you.

You show him a simple nod as a reply. 

“Do you want me to switch places with Lando?” He asks you with a small smile, “I understand if I’m a bit boring tonight, but I’m exhausted from the race.”

“Oh no,” you quickly state, “I’m also pretty tired, so I’m not the most fun person tonight as well. And I can’t focus on anything right now.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re drinking quite a lot for someone who wants to focus?” Oscar jokes.

You let out a soft laugh. “You’re right,” you agree with him, “Don’t even know why.”

“Maybe because of the girl who’s flirting with Lando?” Oscar says without even a single doubt. Are you that obvious? Fuck. Before you can say anything to Oscar - not that you know what, are you going to lie to him or confess? Oscar is already talking again, but this time softer. “Let me help you. Just follow my lead and this is fixed in only minutes.” 

You show Oscar a confused look, but still nod at his words. Oscar says a loud hi to someone who’s sitting next to you, quickly starting a conversation with him. You look at what he’s doing, but you still have no idea how it will help you right now. 

“Did you already meet Y/N?” Oscar suddenly asks the guy. The guy shakes his head. “Really?” Oscar asks confused, “This is her, you should really get to know her.” In only seconds the guy is shaking your hand and introducing himself as Pedro. You introduce yourself as well. A small conversation is started rather quickly. Pedro is pretty interested into you, Oscar is quickly fading to the background of the conversation. You try to keep him into it as well, but Pedro keeps focussing on you. 

“We should totally dance together at the club later!” Pedro tells you full enthusiasm, you chuckle and tell him that you’re a terrible dancer. Something he doesn’t seem to care about. Conversations with him are pretty easy, before you know it he talks about how he got by McLaren recently and what he does. It seems that he’s involved in Lando his trainings, helping the team with making a better rhythm for your friend and assisting his main trainer John when it’s needed. 

“I can teach you how to dance later tonight,” Pedro tells you with a smile. It sounds a bit suggestive now that you think about it. Before you can realize, you see Lando coming closer to you. He presses a kiss against your cheek. You almost jump up when he does, since when are you doing this in public as well? 

“Hi babygirl,” Lando softly greets you. 

Pedro sends you an embarrassed look. Before he can say anything, Lando greets his shortly as well. “Pedro,” he simply says with a small nod to the guy. You don’t know if you’re right, but Lando his tone seemed different when he greeted Pedro. It almost sounded annoyed. When you look at Oscar and he shows you a grin, you realize that this was his plan all the time.

“Sorry Lando, didn’t know you two are a thing,” Pedro quickly says, he stands up and walks away after saying so. The words to deny it are still laying on your tongue. Lando is quick to take Pedro his seat next to you. You show him a confused look. What did just happen? Why didn’t Lando deny it?

“Sooo, the two of you are a thing?” Oscar asks his teammate with a small smirk on his face. He knew exactly what he was doing by letting you meet Pedro. You send him an annoyed look, but don’t say anything. Lando can fix this. He acted this strange. “We’re not dating,” Lando states.

“Oh then why did you kiss her cheek and call her babygirl?” Oscar asks.

“It’s just the alcohol,” Lando mutters. 

Oscar laughs. He doesn’t believe the tiniest bit of it. Lando makes things even worse for himself by grabbing you on a soft way by the shoulders and pulling your body onto his. You show him a confused look, but then you allow your body to lean onto Lando. His hand find yours, he plays with your fingers before interlocking them with his own. 

“And that’s the alcohol as well?” Oscars asks while laughing.

“Fuck off mate,” Lando sighs.

“Weren’t you talking with that other girl?” You can’t help yourself and ask Lando. When you look around and let your gaze wander to where Lando was sitting before, you notice that the girl is already looking at Lando and you. You quickly look away from her, feeling uncomfortable with the stare. 

“Which girl?” Lando asks you. “The one who’s looking at us,” you reply.

“Oh, her,” he says, “She’s a bit too interested to be honest. So smile at me and act like you love me,” he continues to joke. You do what he says, you press a small kiss against Lando his cheek. You don’t even have to act like you love him. You know all to well that it’s not an act. It has never been an act. 

+++

When you’re finally in the club, you’re quick to find the dance floor. You’re dancing for fun with a couple of McLaren team members. Lando has find a place on the sidelines where he can focus all his attention on you. He laughs when you almost bump into another girl. Oscar has found a place next to his teammate. The words Oscar is saying aren’t landing by Lando, he’s way too focused on you. 

He’s completely focused on you and the dress you’re wearing. The dress has been on his mind for the whole evening. It’s unfair how good you look in it. It causes him to want to spread your legs for him so he can pull out another orgasm from you. Or for you to drop on your knees, so he can fuck your mouth and finally can get rid from the sexual tension that has been hanging around him since his podium. Or just your hand firmly around his boner to give him his release. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t care how it happens as long as there happens something. And the best would be if you were just close to him, showing everyone that the beautiful girl on the dance floor belongs to him. Only you don’t. It causes him to have a headache. Why aren’t you his? He really needs to change this.

“There’s really nothing going on between Y/N and you?” Oscar asks Lando.

“No,” Lando quickly states.

“So you won’t mind if my friend asks her on a date?” Oscar continues to ask, “Since you acted a bit weird with Pedro giving her attention..”

Lando doesn’t even react to the question, he can only focus on one thing. “Who?” He asks. His head is filling up with all kind of questions. Which friend from Oscar wants to date you? Would you date that friend as well? He lets out a sigh. This is the worst.

“Logan.”

Logan? Does Logan even know you? Do you even know Logan? Lando starts to wonder if he ever saw the two of you talking. Would you say yes to Logan if he asks you on a date? Fuck. Why didn’t he thought about this before. Of course there’s someone interested in you. 

“Do they even know each other?” Lando sneers. He can’t help himself.

“Kinda,” Oscar shrugs, “they talked a couple races ago when Logan DNF’ed. She made him feel a lot better about it.” 

“Fuck,” Lando sighs. He can’t hold the words back anymore. “Fuuck.”

Oscar laughs. “That says enough, don’t you think?” 

“No,” Lando quickly mutters, “I mean if he wants to he should, you know. It’s up to Y/N what she says.”

This time it’s Oscar who lets out a sigh. “Lando just be honest, you like her so you don’t want anyone else to date her. Why aren’t you telling her that?”

Lando doesn’t answer to that question. He wachtes you dance and sip from your drink. When he watches the people around you, it’s not surprising to him how many guys are doing the same as him. Watching you. He’s quick to realize that Logan, or Pedro, aren’t the problem. There’s always someone who would want to date you. The problem is always that you aren’t his. How is he ever going to fix this mess? What if you meet someone who you want to date? Someone who can offer you anything you want? Like being always there for you instead of needing you to travel across the world with them? What if he loses you want you start to date someone else? Lando can’t stand by the sidelines while watching you have a relationship with someone else. Right? He would lose his mind. 

It doesn’t even surprise Lando when he sees Logan coming closer to you. He sighs. It’s pretty normal that after a race a lot of the drivers are clubbing, so he isn’t surprised that Logan is her as well. But still, it stings. It’s stings even more when you greet Logan with a hug before talking to him full with enthusiasm. He wachtes away. He can’t see this. 

“You’re an idiot,” Oscar sighs when he notices the way Lando looks away from you for the first time that evening.

“I know,” Lando mutters, “and you don’t even know the worst parts.”

“Worst parts?” Oscar asks curiously. 

Lando knows that everything that’s happening between you two is a secret, but he also knows that Oscar will keep it that way. Right now he really can use some advise from someone. Oscar can probably give him some, he even has a great relationship. Lando stops questioning it and starts to confess to Oscar. This must be because of the alcohol, otherwise he would have thought about it longer.

“The short version is that we’re fucking,” Lando confesses, “or not really fucking, but doing a lot of other sexual stuff. Probably fucking soon.”

Oscar almost drops his drink. Then he lets out a loud laugh. “And you’re still doubting if she wants you?” He asks. “Fuck man, you’re stupid. Why would she do those things with you without being interested into you?”

“Because she wants sexual experience,” Lando explains.

“But still, why with you? There were probably enough others who wanted to help.”

“I offered,” Lando states.

“Same question, why did she chose you?” 

Lando doesn’t reply at first. He watches Logan and you again. The two of you are dancing. Logan looks if he tries to get as close to you as he can manage. Fuck, that should be him. Lando curses himself, he should have make sure that he was on the dance floor with you. Embarrassing himself, but having fun with you. 

“I don’t know why with me, probably because I offered and she didn’t have to contact others to ask. She’s embarrassed about her experience, so she probably wants to keep it a secret,” he explains to Oscar.

“Lando she won’t be doing this with you if there wasn’t some sort of interest,” Oscar quickly states.

Lando just shakes his head to disagree. He focuses on Logan and you again. There’s still a lot of dancing happening and it’s getting more closer with the second. He can’t watch this anymore. Without saying anything else to Oscar he starts to walk towards Logan and you. He hasn’t even a plan, but he needs to do something abut this. Oscar lets out a laugh when he notices the way Lando is walking towards you. He didn’t tell his teammate that he told Logan before that it would be dumb to ask you onto a date, since you’re too close with Lando. Oscar believes that Lando needs a push and this could be exactly the push Lando would have needed. And who is he to not give his teammate that much needed push?

It doesn’t take Lando long before he stands in front of you. You stop dancing to focus on him. What’s Lando doing? Logan also stops dancing and wait for what’s going to happen. Oscar already warned him for this, but he still wanted to try. “Can we go back to the hotel?” Lando asks you. 

He notices that Logan takes a bit more distance from you. Something he’s glad abut. You look worried at Lando. 

“Back to the hotel?” You ask him, “What’s going on?”

“I’m not feeling well,” Lando lies. Although he doesn’t feel well, but that can be easily fixed if every guy would leave you alone. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask him worried. 

“Just a bit too much alcohol,” Lando continues to lie. He can’t confess that he isn’t feeling well because of the attention every boy is giving you tonight. You send Lando another worried look and get closer to him. 

“Let’s go back to the hotel then,” you tell Lando. 

“Sorry if I’m ruining your night right now,” Lando says apologetic. He almost feels ashamed of himself for acting like this, but he can’t help it. He needs you for himself right now. He wants nothing more then to lay in bed with you right now and to cuddle up against you, instead of worrying about every guy around you. 

“It’s fine Lan,” you quickly say. 

Then Logan starts to meddle in the conversation. He sounds a bit unsure when he talks, a bit nervous even, “I can also bring you back to the hotel?” He suggests, “If you want to stay longer of course.”

“That’s really sweet of you Logan,” you say. Before you can say anything else Lando is talking as well. He feels himself getting more frustrated. Who does Logan think he is by suggesting this? He doesn’t even think about his next actions. He just acts. Word are quickly leaving his mouth. 

“We share the room and I only have one pass,” he states with a harsh undertone in his voice, “so you can’t.”

You look confused at Lando. Why is he acting like this? Doesn’t he notice that Logan is trying to help? Why is he this rude? Since when can Lando even act like this? You don’t know this side of him. 

“Oh sorry I didn’t know,” Logan quickly says, “I just wanted to help.”

You feel ashamed when Lando continues to talk. “That’s unnecessary,” he states. You quickly take a step closer to Logan, you don’t realize that it causes you to stand in front of Lando while doing so. Lando on the other hand is quick to notice. 

“It’s really sweet of you Logan,” you say, “but I’ll get back with Lando. Enjoy the rest of your night.” To give your words a bit more power, you give Logan a quick hug. When Lando sees your action he almost loses his mind. He feels like the most childish person when he grabs your hand and drags you away with him. He doesn’t take the time to say goodbye to anyone, he just needs to get you into the car with him. When he is outside the club, he starts to feel more ashamed for his actions. He barely dares to look at you. What are you thinking about him right now? You are probably really annoyed with him. And he gets it.

“What’s wrong with you Lan?” You ask confused, Lando is just happy that you still use the nickname for him. “Logan only tried to help.”

Lando doesn’t reply at first. He lets out a small scoff. Of course you’re dragging Logan into this as well. 

“You acted really rude,” you tell him annoyed.

“Of course side with Logan,” Lando sighs, “give me an even bigger headache right now.”

You let out a sigh. “You’re acting crazy,” you state frustrated. 

Lando doesn’t reply anymore. He’s glad when the taxi is standing in front of him. He opens your car door and walks towards the other side to take place himself. He knows that you’re right, but he really doesn’t want to confess that right now. Unsure he grabs your hand and interlaces his fingers with yours. He smiles when he notices that you aren’t pulling away from him, but even give him a small squeeze. 

After a short taxi ride, Lando and you are quick to find your way back into the hotel. When standing in the room, you change your outfit. The dress from before quickly lands onto the floor and is replaced by a shirt from Lando. Lando can only focus on you walking around in his shirt with only a thong underneath. He wants nothing more then to hold you right now. Maybe remind you of your earlier promise, he still has an awful hard dick that can use some help. 

You on the other hand are thinking about other things. One of them being Logan. “You should apologize to Logan,” you softly tell Lando after a comfortable silence, “He only tried to help us.”

“He tried to get in your pants,” Lando scoffs annoyed. The frustrated feeling of before is coming back rather quickly. Why are you starting about Logan again? He wonders if you really don’t realize that Logan only wanted to bring you back to the hotel so he could get more from you? 

“Lan,” you sigh annoyed, “now you’re just exaggerating.”

“I’m not,” Lando quickly replies.

You let out a big sigh and take a seat onto the bed. Lando is already laying in it. “You are,” you tell him while sending you an angry glance, “not everyone who’s nice to me is trying to get in my pants.”

“But he was,” Lando exclaims with a raised voice. 

“Why?” You ask.

“Because Oscar told me he wants to date you,” Lando confesses.

“So?” You ask, “That doesn’t mean he wants to fuck me.”

“Y/N,” Lando sighs, “just believe me on this one.”

“Even if he is, why do you care?” You eventually ask Lando, you’re done with this conversation but it doesn’t seem to be even close to ending. You can’t help yourself from questioning it. Why does it seem like Lando cares this much about Logan wanting to date you and maybe wanting to have sex with you? It gives you a tiny bit of hope that Lando might return your feelings. Could that be possible? Is he just acting jealous? It almost seems so. 

“I uh,” Lando stutters a bit, he doesn’t know what to say. “I uh, I just want to be sure that your first is with someone who cares about you,” he says after a bit of stuttering. That is a good reason, right? 

“Are you afraid you won’t be my first anymore?” You ask Lando confused. 

Lando doesn’t know what to answer. He realizes that you’re right. He is afraid that things will change and that you don’t want - and need - him anymore. He really wants to be your first. “Maybe,” he confesses eventually. 

“Don’t,” you tell Lando. 

“Don’t?” He asks confused.

“You’ll still be my first,” you tell Lando, “I trust you and I want it to be with you. But..”

“But?” Lando asks. 

“But you still need to apologize to Logan, otherwise I will find someone else,” you joke.

“Fucking hell,” Lando mutters annoyed. He grabs his phone from his nightstand. You lay down on the bed next to him in the mean time. You get yourself close to Lando, you lay your head on his chest. Lando plays with your hair while scrolling in his phone, you watch the screen with him. You see Lando searching for Logan’s contact. When he finds him, he’s quick to type a message. 

Lando: Hey Logan. Sorry for my behavior tonight. It was rude, I understand now that you were only trying to help. Sorry.

You smile when Lando hits send. What the both of you don’t know is that Logan and Oscar are reading the message right now together. “I told you so,” Oscar tells Logan, “She has him all wrapped around her finger.”

When Lando puts his phone away, he is quick to focus his attention back on you. He doesn’t have to do anything to get your attention as well. You’re quick to move closer to him and press your lips onto his. The kiss was meant innocent, but Lando is quick to turn it into a make out session. 

“Fuck babygirl,” he mutters, “I’ve been so fucking turned on the whole night because of you.” 

You look at Lando. All the annoyed, mad feelings from before have melted away like snow for the sun. He grabs you and moves you on top of him. When you’re sitting on his lip, you feel his boner pressing on your body. 

“Can’t get the taste of you out if my system,” he continues to say, “Have been thinking about all the things you can do to me all night. All the ways you can make me cum. Fuck.”

You grind your ass on Lando his lap. “You like that don’t you?” Lando asks you, “When I talk dirty to you.” You show him a nod. “My dirty girl,” Lando continues to speak. His words cause you to grind on his crotch again. You feel the pressure from his boner sliding on your pussy. Fuck that feels good. 

“I need you to do something about it,” Lando groans when you take his boner into your hands. You won’t let him say that twice to you. Without giving it a second thought, you unclasp Lando his belt. Within seconds you pull down his pants and boxers. His boner springs free. When you take his boner into your hand and slowly stroke it. Your small movements cause Lando to let out a soft relieved moan. 

You try to remember what Lando likes. After a few firm strokes, you move down your head towards Lando his member. You place a few small licks around the top, making it wet. After that you carefully take his boner in your mouth. Slowly bobbing your head while sucking harshly on it. You use one of your hands to stroke the bit of his dick that doesn’t fit in your mouth. 

Lando sees the way you subtle move your head a couple times to remove the hair from coming in your sight. He lets out a low chuckle. Then he grabs your hair with one of his hands. Pulling it behind your head in a ponytail and keeping it in his hand like that. You increase your pace a bit. 

“Babygirl,” Lando suddenly says, “I’m going to give you a pace, but if it’s not okay you need to let me know. Okay?”

You remove your mouth from his boner only to tell Lando yes. When your mouth is back around his dick, Lando firms his grip on your hair. Slowly he shows you what he means. He softly pushes and pulls to make you get on his pace. He lets out a loud moan. “Fucking hell baby.”

Slowly you use your other hand to explore Lando his dick a bit more. Eventually you let your hand find Lando his balls. You use your finger to trace over them. For Lando this is a bit new as well, he always knew it would feel good but former girlfriends weren’t interested in it. He loves the way you doing things like this out of yourself. He doesn’t need to ask, you just explore the exact same things as he wants. When he feels your hand form around his balls and softly squeeze them, he lets out the hardest moan so far. It feels insanely good. 

You continue doing the same over again. It doesn’t take Lando long before he feels his balls getting a bit more tight. He lets out multiple moans before one hard grunts leaves his lips. It says enough to you. Lando his grip on your hair loses. A salty taste enters your mouth. You swallow it before sucking slowly until Lando is completely empty. 

“You’re the best,” Lando eventually says to you. You show him a smile. Lando pulls you close to himself, causing you to land on his chest with your body again. He plays with your hair. “Don’t give me that innocent look,” Lando says with a small smile, “because I know for sure that you’re not that innocent.” You show him a smile again, not knowing what to reply.

“I can’t wait to find out how you feel around my cock,” Lando tells you. 

“I’m ready for that,” you tell Lando shyly, “Maybe we can do that soon?”

“That sounds like a good plan.”

Then Lando realizes that he has no idea what will happen after that. Will this thing between you two end when Lando takes your virginity? He realizes that he needs to think about that and talk to you about it. But for now he focuses his attention onto you again. He presses a soft kiss against your forehead.

part seven

taglist: @booksandplushies @dinodumbass @formula1mount @words-are-cheap @allywthsr @inejghafawifesblog @chonkybonky @formulas-bitch @harrysdimple05 @vildetry06 @wherethefuckisthething @nonameishere @lauralarsen@meadhbhcavanagh @obliviatevamps @shy4turcs @fix5idiots @nightlockcornucopia @marialovesf1 @kapsylia @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @lanando4 @lauralarsen @leclercdream @agentadhd @rewmuslupin @allsouls-emma @iamshiningeuw @teenagedreams-cl@kiskso @loxbbg @vellicora @thomaslefteyebrow @avg-golden-retriever @amorydsmt @killjoynotes@barelytolerabled @starmanv @changetyre @kami10471633 @2bormaybenot @httpmrklee @buendiabebeta @aliceespector@ryiamarie @mickslover @sop-hie092 @miniemonie2001 @greymarvelskaikru @kapsylia@swiftiedrafts @thatchickwiththecamera @formulas-bitch @venisvendetta @t3a-3njoy3r @landowecanbewc

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#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #ln4 #formula one #lando norris imagine #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut #formula one smut

[jungwondazed]

18+ only. / camping tent sex with jungwon

it was much chillier at night, a gentle sprinkle hitting the plastic lining of your camp tent. a few days ago jungwon urged you to come along the camping trip with him and his other friends, telling you how much you needed a break from studying all the time. with much effort he convinced you to tag along, promising you how he would take care of you the entire time, despite your worries because you’ve never been camping before. 

the group was divided into six different tents in a small camping ground just nearby the forrest, you and jungwon were luckily able to get your own. the space was extremely tight, no extra room for anything but two bodies and a small side table for a lamp and belongings. 

the day was a very long one. you had no problem with nature, in the sense that flowers are pretty and sure maybe you’d dip your feet into a pond every once in awhile but in a boy’s world, camping was a whole different thing of it’s own. for the most part, you stayed by jungwon’s side to which he was kindly receptive about. he was extraordinarily cute out in the wild, with his gear and backpack, throwing his head back to laugh every time one of his friends cracked a joke. it was fun observing just how men acted around each other, something you couldn’t handle for any longer than a week even if you were paid to. but jungwon was having the time of his life, and you enjoyed just being there with him. however, you felt like you didn’t contribute much, feeling a bit like a burden as you didn’t do anything but stand beside him. was it also wrong of you to slightly miss him? sure he was next to you all day, but not being able to talk a lot even with his presence made it harder. 

with that last thought, the tiredness from the day finally took over and you were seconds away from sleep, before jungwon’s body scooted closer towards you. too exhausted to do anything about it, you kept your eyes closed and in response he pressed his body against yours, wrapping his arm around your waist in the sleeping bag you both shared. 

“mmm?” he breathes out. you can feel that small smile anywhere. “my baby’s asleep isn’t she?” 

you feel the tip of his nose rub your cheek, before his lips pressed gentle kisses on your chin. finally, some undivided attention from him. 

“you’re not upset are you baby? i noticed you were a bit quiet before settling in to sleep. i missed you so much too, you know.” his arm wrapped around your abdomen shifts so that his hand can touch you a bit more. his fingers ghost right under your sleep shirt, and you question if the chill you feel is from his touch or the sudden rush of wind on the outside. 

he makes his presence much more apparent when he brings one leg over you, almost on top of you at this point. jungwon’s kisses grow wet and intimate, the pecks are deep and sloppy, and you hear the tiniest bit of desperation behind them. 

“wanted you with me all day for a reason, ____. if you weren’t by my side i think i may have gone crazy.” 

his hands dip under your shirt entirely, the callouses on his hands from today’s activites are rough on your skin. he rubs you from the sides of your waist to your navel, and gently to the underside of your breast, hesitating a bit as his breathing speeds up. 

he pulls back from touching you there, before doing something that makes your breath hitch immediately. jungwon lifts himself to be completely crouched over you, both his hands pulling your shirt up to cover just your chest. you feel his face inches away from your abdomen by his breath on your skin, and he licks a stripe right at the midline. he kisses your entire stomach, moaning into it, whispering things you can’t quite make out. your stomach caves in at the sensitive sensation, and a whimper escapes your lips. you feel him chuckle right at your waist, satisfied that you’re giving him a reaction. he circles his tongue at the side of your stomach, sucking on the lower side of your rib cage, not caring how eager he really looks. he continues making out with your entire front side because not only did it make you feel good, but he missed you desperately too. 

your stomach was entirely wet, although you didn’t mind. a few seconds pass before you notice a pause in jungwon’s movements. you open your eyes a bit to see him lost in thought, calculation in his eyes as he glowers at the way your panties reveal a bit under your sleep pajamas. you look away, red in the face at the arousal in his stare. you’ll never get used to how much his demeanor changes when he’s turned on. 

his fingers creep at your sides, hooking themselves onto your pajamas and pulling them all the way down. you open your eyes, shaking your head at jungwon and trying to reach for them to dress yourself again. 

“there’s people around us,” you hush out in a single breath and he pushes you gently back down, giving you a serious look and you back down immediately.

despite the demeanor, his movements are gentle, slowly prying your legs apart as he lays himself between them. his face is directly in front of your cunt, and he snickers at the wet spot that formed on your panties. you’re mortified, to say the least, but jungwon looks up at you, the slightest smirk on his face that you would’ve missed if not for the small lamp.

he presses his fingers firmly on your damp panties and you bring your hand to your face to hold back a moan. he’s a bit cruel with his foreplay, not immediately going in stick his tongue in you, jungwon takes everything slowly because he likes making you gradually lose it. he rubs you right there, fingers circling you through that thin cloth, and you’re sure your slick is soaking every string of fabric. jungwon watches intensely at the way your legs are scrambling everywhere, stomach heaving in and out at the mere stimulation of his fingers. 

he inches his face closer to you, sticking out his tongue just slightly and pressing it firmly against that same wet spot. 

“wonnie, please no” you whine out and he fucks his tongue over your panties, lapping at your clit, and slowly losing your own mind. 

he pulls your shirt up to your mouth, signaling you to bite down on it, making you feel a bit pathetic and inferior. he enjoys that though, and he continues licking your pussy.

“you like this don’t you?” you feel his teeth grazing on your panties and your abdomen buckles immediately, a small fang hitting your clit and you swear if it wasn’t for the fabric you may have came all over him. he furthers it by slightly biting your clit ever so gently, it all makes you want to do nothing more but push his head deep inside you, needing his tongue in all your holes if this is the game he wants to play. 

“what if i stopped just like this? hmm? is this enough for you?” his face pulls away, halfway getting up before you pull at his arm to stay there. his bottom lip releases from the tugging of his teeth, his jaw dropping a bit at how eager you look. jungwon has a thing for making you beg, pushing you to ask him for what you need. he likes to see and hear your desires, especially if it makes you look the way you do now. 

you shake your head with tears forming in your eyes. he wouldn’t be as cruel as this would he? you want him on you again, you wanna feel all of him inside you, really. instead of lowering himself down to tease you there again, he creeps up at you, a dark sensation in his eyes as he’s beyond turned on. he eyes your body the whole way up, before he’s right in front of your face, leaning down to kiss you deep. you love when jungwon gets like this. he’s all about teasing you to get desperate but what about him? does he ever realize how needy he looks? with the way his tongue is deep inside your mouth, you’re at ease knowing he’ll always need it just as much as you do. 

“you heard everything i said earlier, didn’t you? i missed you baby.” you nod, bringing your two hands to cup his pretty face. you heard all of him. 

“i wanna give it all to you right now, but you have to be quiet okay? kiss me whenever you can’t take it.” and you almost fall apart at his demand, jungwon and his filthy ideas that force you to be silent and secretive. curse the way you both were in the middle of a public camping ground and not the comfort of your own home.

he gets up on his knees, pulling his bottoms and boxers off, and you whimper at how big he’s gotten. his cock hits his abdomen once he pulls it out, his tip glistening a bit with him pre-cum. it’s bulging and you wanna do nothing but suck on it, teasing him like he did to you earlier. he smirks once he realizes you staring, lowering down to kiss you once more before he pulls the front of the sleeping bag so that it drapes his broad shoulders, covering the both of you completely.  

you reach up to touch him through his shirt that he still kept on, wanting nothing more than to see him in his entirety. you grip at his shoulders, feeling how fit he’s always been. 

he pumps himself a few times, clear fluid leaking down on your stomach and you gasp at how he’s already making a mess, not even inside you yet. his eyes close and bites his lip at the feeling of him stroking himself, and a small bit of jealousy bubbles in your chest wishing he was getting off by using you. but god, you can’t deny how good he looks right now. stroking his dick above you like he was about to finish all over your stomach when in reality he hasn’t even begun to fuck you. 

you pull your panties down since he didn’t earlier, and he opens his eyes to lazily chuckle at you, making you blush. he kisses you on the lips again, his cock laying right on your stomach. you think you gushed a bit just at that feeling, your patience quickly thinning out.

with his mouth still pressed against yours, he lines his tip to run it up and down your clit. you moanly loudly and he bites down to gently shut you up. jungwon and his fucking teasing, you’re on a thin line, just a few more minutes and you don’t care what anyone sees or hears, you’ll climb on him immediately if you have to. 

his tip strokes your clit over and over, your hole clenching around nothing as he stimulates you this way. it fits so perfectly between your folds, and you force back a whine. jungwon’s not too quiet himself as you feel him pant against you, his tip as sensitive as ever. he presses the entire backside of his cock to stroke between your folds, still not entering your hole yet. he humps your pussy this way, and you wraps your arms around his neck to taste his lips again. 

he can barely kiss you back. always pushing you to the brink, never realizing how he can barely hold on too. 

“please, just please” you whimper out, begging for anything in you at this point. 

it’s minutes later before he finally reaches down to grab himself, lining to fit right into your hole. he groans immediately once his tip is inside, you moaning alongside him.

“fuck me already fucking please,” you’re desperate, too turned on to worry about anything. he brings his arms behind your head so that you rest on them, holding himself up with his forearms. 

“wrap your legs around me” he demands and you do just that, realizing what this angle does to you, but it excites you nonetheless. 

after a few more strokes with his tip he deepens himself, stretching you out further to which you can’t recall a time it ever feeling better than this. he’s big inside you, his thrusting steady. you kiss him as you can’t find a will in yourself to be quiet, hoping his lips can silence you as much as possible. 

jungwon finally bottoms out, so deep both of your chests touch each other for a minute as he rests there, letting himself twitch inside you. your walls warm the throbbing of his penis, which makes him struggle to immediately start thrusting. his moans are a bit whinier, still deep but there’s a soft desperation there that leads you to believe how much he needs it now. 

he finally pulls back and pounds hard inside you, your whole body shaking. usually, this would have made you cry out but jungwon taking his time to warm you up, he could do anything and you’d probably take it a bit too well. he fucks himself in and out, still cradling your head, kissing your forehead in adoration of his girl. he loves you so much, you feel it in the way he keeps his hold around you soft.

you like when jungwon fucks you at a pace that he maintains, laying there and letting himself thrust in and out for minutes so long, doing nothing but mewing and whining at how good it feels. tears brim your eyes as you feel yourself getting closer, while simultaneously hoping this never ends. 

“could fuck you all night,” 

you nod at his confession, genuinely believing him. you love how he never stops pumping in and out of you, his stamina so consistent there isn’t a doubt in your head that this could keep up for hours. 

you don’t realize how jungwon meant what he said in this situation, because throughout the night he brings you both right to the edge before pulling himself all the way out for a few seconds just to thrust inside you all over again. you ask him why he won’t let you cum over and over, promising that you can handle it instead of being edged this way. he whispers how he doesn’t believe you, that he’ll only allow that after he sees how well you behave when you do cum.

with the countless edging, it gets to the point where even jungwon doesn’t know when it’s time to cum, he edges until he absolutely can’t anymore. there’s been multiple instances where he’s so close his mind forgets the entire game he’s going at, speeding up because he’s so ready to spill himself in you. however, you can always tell when he’s given up on the edging, his breathing and whines gets very evident. he fucks fast, hitting a spot so good you couldn’t force him to edge you again even if you wanted that. you beg him for your release in the minutes of him finally giving in, and you could cry at the orgasm that builds up. 

“i love you so much, ____” he weakly moans, kissing you in the places he can as he’s far too gone to be precise. 

“i love you, wonnie, love you so much” you reach up at his face, feeling his warm skin. 

he looks down at the way he’s entering you, his final strokes sloppy as he cums deep inside you, the semen releasing as the base of his cock hits your clit. he groans so deep and he thrusts a few times more to which you cum right with him, moaning in his mouth and digging your heels deep in his lower back. you’re both completely on each other, holding each other so tight the only friction being him stroking in your walls. he continues moving in and out of you, dragging out your orgasm for as long as possible. it feels good beyond words, for a split second you think about whether you would wanna suggest a round two, but the thought goes away when he pulls himself out, his seed pouring out of you and the exhaustion hitting you once again. 

he lays on you for a minute before rolling right by your side, pulling your body against his and burying his face inside you inner neck. both of your eyes are closed, the after feeling of sex resonating between your bodies. 

was this something jungwon was thinking about doing to you all day? or did he only feel up for it once he saw how down you were? you recall back to the many times jungwon has comforted you this way, blushing at how good he always makes you feel. 

“feeling any better?” he starts, “i don’t like my girl going to sleep upset.” his lashes brush your skin as he lazily kisses your shoulder. his aftercare is always so sweet, reassuring you that he still loves and adores your body even after he had his way with it. jungwon keeps you close after sex, you used to think that this was to make you feel better but his care is so sincere you wouldn’t doubt if he did it for his own needs too. 

you smile, turning your head around to slightly look at him. he always looks his best after cumming. 

“i was never upset” 

#enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enha smut #jungwon hard hours #jungwon hard thoughts #jungwon smut #jungwondazedjungwon

[norrizzandpia]

hey bestiee!!

I wanted to request femxreader who’s having trouble with sleep and calls lando when he’s away because she misses him so much

thanksss🧡

I NEED HIM ON SPEED DIAL.

What Are You Doing Up? (LN4)

Summary: She can’t go to sleep when he isn’t there.

Warnings: again, arguably the cutest thing ive ever written

Her eyes felt as if they had been glued open as she stared up at the ceiling. Nothing seemed to work. No amount of tea or medicine could get her body to relax and give into the sleep she so desperately wanted and needed.

The one thing she hadn’t tried and the one thing she really didn’t want to bother was the one thing she knew would actually work.

Lando.

Her boyfriend had become the expert on getting her back to sleep on nights when she was too fidgety or energized to lay down and stay still. His quiet whispers could easily make her drowsy and his soft hands roaming her skin never once failed to make her eyes droop. Whether it was the fact she found his presence calming or he was just the insomniac-whisperer, she didn’t know.

Nevertheless, on nights when he wasn’t there to find her up and walking around the kitchen in search of something to do, she had to try and get herself back to sleep on her own. Usually, she could do it. It would take hours and hard work, but she could get to sleep eventually. However, now, as she glanced at the clock and it read 4:30 AM, she realized calling Lando was inevitable.

Part of her brain knew he was the last resort, but the other was relieved to hear his voice because, God, did she miss him.

His race weekends had been going phenomenally and she was immensely proud of him, but she couldn’t get over seeing him on screen and wishing he was beside her.

No amount of phone calls, facetimes, voice notes, or text messages could cure the overwhelming yearning she harbored for the man in her life.

Her thumb hesitantly hovered over his contact, doubting at the last moment if she should really disturb him. But wanting sleep and her boyfriend trumped any second thoughts as she let out a breath and clicked his number.

The number rang for a few seconds before she heard shuffling, a rushed “give me one moment”, and then his voice.

“Y/n? What’s going on, baby? Isn’t it like-” A pause told her he was checking the time, “4:30 in the morning over there?”

She nodded, letting out a sigh before responding, “Yes,”

The exhaustion was evident and thick in her voice as it dawned on Lando why his girlfriend had called him when it was the crack of dawn for her.

“You can’t sleep,” He whispered, disappointment and empathy for her.

She had been so busy the few days before without much sleep that her walls began to fall down, tears rising in her eyes as she wished for any kind of rest.

“I can’t sleep,” She repeated, choked sounds escaping her throat as she willed for his support.

“Aw, baby, I’m so sorry. What can I do, love?” He said, moving to a more secluded corner as to gain privacy to speak to her freely.

She shook her head, fingers coming to pinch her nose, “I don’t know. Just talk to me about your day. Maybe that’ll help me calm down.”

“Okay, okay, I can do that.” He whispered lovingly, feeling heartbroken he couldn’t be there to help her through this.

She set the phone beside her ear, blankets up to her chin as he began.

“Well, it’s around 7:30 PM here in Vegas and I was just talking to Oscar and the engineers about going to get some dinner. Testing went really well today and the car is super quick. Baby, it’s going to be such a great race. I’m really hopeful. Anyway, I had a really good workout this morning too. Things are just going really well, honestly, with the team and Oscar. 1-2 is looking not as impossible now which is crazy, baby. And!” He exclaimed, getting excited as he rambled, “And I got to try In-n-Out! Remember that really big burger chain I was telling you about? It’s so fucking popular here and it’s not anywhere else except the west coast of the U.S? Yeah! I got to try it and, no doubt, baby, it was so fucking good. Genuinely, some of the best fast food I’ve ever had. We have to come back to the west coast over holiday, so I can show you it and all the other weird things Americans do. How does that sound, baby?”

Lando was met with silence to his question, thinking she hated the idea, until his ears heard soft, rhythmic sighs on the other line. His heart swelled at the infamous noises of her having dosed off. He loved the fact that he was the only person to be able to get her back to sleep, but also despised it during times like these when she failed to let him know of her problems until the last minute. He wished he could make her understand that any call from her was never going to be a disruption or annoyance.

He would always be overjoyed to hear from her, whether that was with bad or good news.

Nevertheless, he listened to her breathing for a few minutes, wanting to make sure she stayed asleep and didn’t need anymore of his help. When he was sure of her state, he whispered to the woman he knew couldn’t hear him, “I love you so much, my love. Glad I could help.”

He didn’t care that she couldn’t comprehend his words, saying it because, even when she was asleep, she deserved to hear how much he cared about her.

Hanging up the phone and waving off his team behind him who was rushing him as they so desperately wanted to go get food, Lando sent her a quick text.

Lan 🧡

Next time, call me the second you start struggling to fall asleep. I’m always here for you, beautiful. Call me when you wake up xx

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x reader #mclaren #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris #lando norris smut #lando norris fic #lando norris edit #lando norris x you

[klemen-tine]

Blowing Raspberries

Batfam x Male!Reader Platonic

@jaythes1mp Sorry this took so long and is not all in one part! But here is the first half.

TW: Break in, Child Abuse (not the Batfam), and neglect

Publicly, Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson is the oldest Wayne sibling. Taken in by Bruce Wayne at 8-years-old, he is the first child and the oldest. In the eyes of the law and adoption papers. In the eyes of the Wayne family however, the oldest sibling title belongs to Y/N L/N. Similar to the Drakes, the L/N’s live on the other side of the Waynes, and similar to Tim, Y/N had been left home alone… a lot. 

Which meant he was over, a lot. So much so, he had his own room, Alfred made him a plate for every meal, and he was aware of their little nightly activities. Y/N L/N was a needed normalcy within the Manor, reminding them that there is more to life outside of crime fighting. 

“Did you see that new cafe?” Y/N asked, looking into Dick’s exhausted eyes while resting his chest against Jason’s head. Dick shook his head, “No. Why?” Y/N pouted, “Because you guys literally broke their windows last night.” Jason winced, remembering the shattering of glass and wide-eyed stares as he handled some thugs. 

“Please tell me that isn’t the cafe you wanted to go to today.” Dick buried his head in his hands and begged every deity that it was not that cafe. Y/N has been talking about it for weeks and finally found a time where all their schedules aligned so they could do it. 

“It was.” Jason and Dick groaned while Y/N stared at them with an annoyed expression. His arms that were wrapped around Jason tightened in a mocking chokehold, knowing that if Jason wanted to he could easily get out and have Y/N pinned. Dick groaned again, “Is… is there somewhere else you want to try?” 

“Not really.” ‘Fuck!’ Jason and Dick stared at one another, trying to figure out a way to still have this day with Y/N. If they don’t hurry, the vultures will swoop in and suggest something that will catch Y/N’s attention and– 

“Y/N, how about we got to the petting zoo.” 

“Dami!” 

“Buzz off short stack!” Y/N thumped Jason’s head with his chin, “Don’t talk to Dami like that.” The youngest Wayne smiled victoriously while his two older brothers glared at him. Dick looked offended and Jason was actually ready to strangle him. Y/N shook his head, “Dami, aren’t we going on Friday? I’m picking you up from school to go.” Damian scrunched his nose, “We can go twice.” 

Y/N couldn’t help but to chuckle, “Hmmm, those rabbits are cute.” Jason’s grip tightened, “The new bookstore in downtown! There’s a new bookstore that is supposed to have a cafe attached to it.” Damian scowled at Dick perked up, “Yeah, I forgot about that.” Y/N hummed, staring at Jason in concern, “Jay, you hate downtown.” It’s full of rich snobs and people who have nothing better to do than walk the streets in designer clothing. 

Jason made a face, “It’s our day with you, I’m fine with it as long as you’re there.” Dick gagged and Damian looked ready to chuck a knife at him. Y/N blinked at the younger man in shock before laughing, “That’s cute, okay. Let’s go there then.” He released Jason from his hold, unwrapping his arms from Jason’s neck and standing tall. Dick smiled at Y/N, who was talking to a pouting Damian and ruffling slicked back hair. 

“Alright, Y/N, I'm assuming you’re ready.” Unlike the Wayne brothers who had a father that did not care why they landed on the NEWS or magazine as long as they didn’t kill anyone, Y/N’s father was different. For someone who was always gone, he had a firm hold and opinions on Y/N’s life. 

Bruce may not care that his kids go out looking like they haven’t showered in three days, but Y/N’s dad has ordered the maids to get rid of all the ripped jeans Y/N had because the paparazzi made an opinion on them when Y/N wore them. Jason remembers listening in on that call, and numerous other calls from Mr. L/N, as he hollered at his child he did not care about. 

“You are a L/N! If you still want that last name then you will dress like a L/N!”

Unlike Dick and Jason who are dressed in jeans, Y/N is dressed in slacks and a nice polo shirt. His hair was clean and styled and the shoes he wore still shined. The aesthetic is called ‘old money’ and boy did Y/N have that. He and the Wayne siblings have become the newest trend setters in Gotham. 

Whenever the paparazzi caught them together it was always Old Gotham vs New Gotham. Slacks vs Jeans. Hair combed vs natural. Clean vs Rugged. L/N vs Wayne. 

They were the topic whenever they were out together, which was a lot. The only reason Mr. L/N hasn’t said anything is probably because Bruce is keeping his mouth shut about the child-neglect and abandonment. Point is, seeing the Wayne kids and L/N son together wasn’t odd, in fact there were jokes of Bruce Wayne adopting him, but they still always turned heads. 

“Y/N, I am telling you that is a horrible choice and you’re not gonna like it.” Said young man raised an eyebrow at Jason and tutted disappointedly, “Jay, you haven’t even read it.” The guy motioned at the cover, “Look at it! Dick! Come ‘ere and look at it!” The other made only a side glance at it and sighed, “Y/N… this is only going to lead to problems.” 

“It is literally a book about romance.” Jason screwed up his face, like someone had shoved a lemon down his throat, “But like… young adult romance. Read the classics.” 

“I have read the classics. You have read me the classics. I read them in class and if I have to read how Ms. Elizabeth Barnett falls in love with Mr. Darcy one more time I’m actually going to throw myself in traffic.” Dick agreed with Y/N on that, remembering all the time he had to read the damn book. 

“It's Elizabeth Bennett.” 

“Jay, I swear to God.” 

“Are you sure you read them because there’s no way someone who’s read them would get that name wrong.” 

“Little wing–” 

“–Dickie, maybe. But not anybody else.” 

“–Excuse you.” Y/N snorted at the now bickering brothers, watching in amusement as Dick pulled Jason’s ear and Jason to Dick’s hair. Sighing, Y/N stepped between the two. Y/N L/N is possibly the only person, other than Alfred, who would dare do such a thing. Fear was absent on his face as he calmly walked into the dog fight, and helped release their bites with gentle tugs and stern words. 

“Enough. The line is picking up at the cafe, so let's checkout and head over.” Y/N is the person who quells the fights and mends the bonds. The only person in the Manor that knew how to communicate their feelings and help others realize and communicate theirs. 

He is the kind, patient, and understanding older brother of the Batfam. Always paying attention to other’s needs and always willing to listen to someone vent their frustrations and offer sound advice. Y/N is –

“–And what about the company?! How come the sales are low this month?” 

“Father, they are riding average, it’s just the last month was a boom because–” 

“I don’t care about last month! Why are the sales low this month?!” 

– not Bruce Wayne’s ward, and therefore there isn’t much he can say in this scenario. Bruce listened and watched  Y/N slouch as Mr. L/N continued to scream and berate him from across the world. He watched the exhaustion take over Y/N’s features and the way his forehead creased, Bruce knows that a headache is now present. 

“If you still want the company then you better act like it! Enough of prancing around like the money you spend is yours!” Y/N is grateful his father hung up after that, because Y/N had a clapback to that and he’s sure his father would fly back from wherever he is just to smack him around for saying it. 

Setting his phone down on the coffee table, the weight of the conversation making his shoulders sag and melt into the armchair with a huff. Bruce chuckled at the pout, “For what it is worth, fluctuating prices are normal in businesses. As long as it doesn’t go too low, you are fine.” Y/N smiled at the man, fixing his posture and picking up the mug of coffee. 

“You heard all of that?” The man can still remember when he first met Y/N. The property alarm was triggered, and when Bruce and Alfred went out to investigate, an 8-year-old Y/N was there, his hands holding the wild raspberries and his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk. 

He huffed at the memory, making Y/N give him a weird look. Bruce had been grateful to Y/N’s impromptu trespassing, because when Dick came into his care, a now 10-year-old Y/N had welcomed the traumatized and blubbering 8-year-old. Something Bruce had little to no idea how to handle. 

Then Jason came and that was a wild ride, followed by Steph, then Tim, and now Damian. That's just the Robins. It doesn’t include the others that have become family but never took the Robin mantle. Y/N had been there through it all, and welcomed each one with a smile and open arms. At the same time giving Bruce a raised eyebrow and icy glare that screamed, ‘Really? Another child?’ 

Y/N never faulted Bruce for his lack of communication, but he did let the man know repeatedly that while words may start fires, they can also put them out. Y/N had laid it on him one time, after a particular nasty fight with Dick and Jason. 

“For a man who loves using his vocabulary to start arguments you sure don’t have the vocabulary to fix them. What are you, a toddler?” 

Mending things with Y/N is always easy, because Y/N does not hold grudges. Not to mention having the emotional intelligence of a therapist, Y/N was always in-tuned to his emotions and whether he was projecting or not. Or if anyone else was. Living in a manor filled with people who have traumatic backstories and skeletons in the closets, Y/N has become the voice of reason and unbiased opinions. Similar to Alfred, just without the sass. 

“Do you still like raspberries?” Bruce asked, and Y/N nodded, “You ask this every time a celebration of some sort comes up and the answer is always the same. Yes, I still love raspberries.” Y/N had once confided to Bruce, over a glass of wine, how he had asked his father if he could paint the bookshelves in his room. Little did Mr. L/N know that the color would be burgundy, the closest color to a raspberry he could get without poking someone’s eye out, and when his father found out he had the bookshelves removed and set ablaze. 

Y/N got his ass handed to him when Mr. L/N came back from his trip, and was then prohibited from decorating his room without prior approval of design and permission. 

Bruce had the bookshelves in Y/N’s room in the manor painted burgundy, and when Y/N saw them, it was like watching a child be told that they were not the bad child. The relief and the path to healing across his face as he took in the bookshelves.

The man watched Y/N sip his cup of coffee, watching how exhaustion seemed to seep off of him like cologne and fill the air with his tired and somewhat annoyed state. Phone calls from Mr. L/N we’re never received well by anybody, and Jason and Tim have more than once thought about sending the hateful man a few messages. Damian offered to ambush him when he came home. 

Y/N quickly shot those down.

Tim came from nowhere, his face screwed tight and body tense. Y/N gave him a once over, before making space for the college student on the couch. He gave him a worried look-over, “Is everything alright?” Tim melted into Y/N’s side, huffing and grumbling about something. 

Bruce’s phone vibrated, and it was a message from Tim sent before he got down here. 

‘It’s in Cabo.’ Bruce huffed, already knowing that if Tim was listening then so was everyone else. Referring to Mr. L/N as an ‘it’ seemed to be everyone’s favorite pastime. Everyone but Y/N’s, but as long as it wasn’t said around him then it was fine. 

“You’re going to the Gala, right?” Tim asked and Y/N nodded, “Of course, when have I ever missed one?” Tim continued to grumble a bit, but relaxed into Y/N’s side as he ran his fingers through Tim’s messy hair. God he loves it when Y/N does this. There was barely anything better than Y/N’s head massages, easily lulling him to a calm state as everyone mentally prepared for the Gala tonight. 

When Y/N had turned 13, that is when he started showing up to the Galas representing L/N Industries, and he would be in Bruce’s care while there. Whoever Bruce met, Y/N was expected to make a great impression. Bruce never missed the way Y/N would sometimes stare at the Wayne kids in jealousy as they got to do whatever they want, while he is forced to be an adult and try to win other adults over. 

Then forced to be yelled at afterwards by his father on the phone afterwards for something miniscule. Either someone commented on a piece of clothing, or how he wasn’t smiling, anything that was negative Y/N got yelled at for. It was like Mr. L/N didn’t know how to do anything else other than yell at his child. 

Tim took no offense when the fingers in his hair stopped moving, and Y/N’s body became limp. The other was knocked out on the couch, napping away the stress and enjoying the weekend. Unlike Tim who had Bruce’s help when managing Wayne Enterprises, Y/N is all on his own. Learning from his dad’s assistant, and also Bruce’s, Y/N was basically alone when his father had forced him to take the mantle. In face only, because as far as Mr. L/N was concerned, the company’s profit was still his profit. None of it going to Y/N, except as a monthly allowance. 

Jason had once said he should just stop managing the company, and if his father loved it enough, then he’ll take over. Y/N chuckled-the bags under his eyes were deep and he had just gotten over a stress cold- and he said that although his father may care a lot about the profit, it was his late mother’s company and he wouldn’t want to embarrass her soul by purposefully failing. 

However, now all that company did was cause him stress and make him sick more frequently. Bruce had said it was probably stress from his father, and not so much the company, but that didn’t stop them all from wishing the company would just go away. 

Tim looked up Y/N through his eyelashes, taking in the similar dark circles they both shared and how Y/N looks paler than usual, and he knows that Y/N’s health would only get worse if they targeted the company. His oldest brother would do everything in his power to keep the company afloat, and it would be devastating on both sides. Y/N would run himself ragged trying to keep it alive and that would mean less time with them. 

“Let him rest, Tim. He needs it.” Everyone has asked Bruce if he plans to do something. However, there isn’t much Bruce can do now that Y/N is an adult. He’s offered a room in a manor for Y/N to stay at forever, but Y/N has always been a bit hesitant about leaving the L/N’s home. Bruce can understand why. 

Aged blue eyes observed the steady rise and fall of Y/N’s chest, and he wondered if there was anything that could convince Y/N to stay here. 

++++

“Mr. L/N, what a surprise.” A surprise it is too, because instead of Y/N being here, it is his father. The one who was in Cabo earlier today. The man smiled, looking nothing like Y/N’s, and he held out a hand, “It has been a while. I figured it was time to show my face and give my son a rest.” Dick stared at Mr. L/N in shock and weariness, not liking how he said ‘his son.’ If it was a jab at Bruce, it didn’t land. Brucie Wayne, the social bug he was, laughed and clapped his hand on Mr. L/N’s shoulder. 

“Is Y/N not showing up?” The man’s eyebrow twitched, “No, unfortunately he felt under the weather so he’s taking a break.” Dick’s eyes narrowed, and Bruce’s smile faltered, “Is that so? How unfortunate, he’s fun to talk to.” Mr. L/N’s smile tightened, “Indeed.” 

The Gala was tense, at least it was for the Wayne family, because Y/N never misses a Gala. Never. Dick saved a slice of raspberry cheesecake, for when Y/N comes over tomorrow. He’s going to be upset that he missed a fresh slice, but knowing Y/N, he’ll worry about missing the Gala. The cheesecake will act as reassurance that no one is mad. They just had to wait until tomorrow, when Y/N will show up. 

Only he didn’t. Dick can’t remember the last time he hasn’t seen Y/N in a 24-hour period, but he does know that he didn’t like it. Almost like there was a force keeping his shoulders tight and chest heavy. Looking around, he could already see the effects it was having on others. 

He didn’t answer his phone, and when they called the L/N Manor, it was one of the maids picking up and stating that Y/N was either out, sleeping, or feeling under the weather. Which doesn’t make sense because when Y/N is sick, he is always over at the Wayne manor. No one makes a better chicken noodle soup than Alfred. 

They let it go. Maybe Y/N wants to be home because his dad is home? 

Then the next day, there was still no Y/N. Not a text message, not a phone call, complete radio silence. Following radio silence while on patrol, radio silence from Y/N had to be one of the more terrifying forms of silence. 

There was nothing. His father left late last night, and usually that would mean Y/N would be over. He would be over complaining about his dad and how he needs to work harder. He’d get a stress cold that would last for two days before he would be back to normal.

Every phone call, every text message going unanswered. 

‘Y/N, I swear I’m about to break into your house. Please answer.’ The threat was real and Dick meant every word. He’s talked Jason, Damian, and surprisingly Tim from doing it but now four days of radio silence was enough to make even Bruce stir-crazy. Batman has become a little more violent throughout the week, and Bruce Wayne a little more stressed looking. 

‘Hey! Sorry for the silence, I’m just not feeling too well. I’ll see you in another few days.’ Everyone read the text message, and everyone’s mind filled with the same idea. 

“Honestly, with how often he’s with us you’d think he knows better than to lie.” Damian’s nose scrunched, eyeing the message as if it spit in his face. Tim shrugged, “It just means he’s hiding something.” 

Bruce said nothing, falling into the role of silent protector. 

“You are not actually going over in your Bat costume are you?” 

In the L/N Manor 

Y/N walked  the dark hallways back to his room. Under his arm was a book and in his other hand was a cup of coffee, still steaming and warming his fingers. The lightning that occasionally flashed filled the area with white light, casting long shadows and creating an eerie atmosphere. 

When Y/N was younger, he used to sprint back to his room. He hated how dark and silent the hallways are, reminding him that he is alone in a place that does not want him. When he whispered to Dick that he was scared of the lightning, Dick had told Bruce and sure enough Y/N would be spending nights at the Wayne manor whenever it was forecasted to thunderstorm. 

Y/N had gotten over the fear, but he still occasionally slept over when the forecast predicted rain. Just because he no longer feared it, didn’t mean he liked it. 

Pausing to look out the window like some gothic prince trapped in a tower, Y/N recalled the argument he had with his dad. The older L/N making a surprise visit and berating his child when he first saw him and when he left. Y/N wondered if with the allowance he was given, if he could just move out. Apartments in the upper end of Gotham were expensive, and he’d never hear the end of it if he moved to East Gotham. 

Not to mention, if he did leave to move out on his own, he’d be further from the Wayne family. Sure, Jason and Dick live on their own, and it wasn’t like Tim or Damian needed him around all the time, but it was home for him. 

Maybe, he’s the one that needs them.

Lightning flashed and there was another reflection in the window. 

“Ahhh!” Y/N threw his cup of coffee at the stranger behind him, and only paused in throwing the book when he saw the familiar cowl. 

“Bruce! What the hell?! Oh my God, oh my God, I think I just lost like 10 years of my life.” Y/N clasped a hand over his heart, trying to calm the organ. Taking deep breaths, he finally managed to steady his heart beat and scrunched his nose at the older man. To which, Bruce Wayne glared back, “What happened to your face?” 

‘Oh shit.’ Y/N sighed, “Nothing Bruce. I just fell, but what are you doing in my house? Did…did you break in?” Y/N tried to get around the taller and bigger man, but Bruce grabbed his arm. He spun Y/N around and thanks to the flash of lightning, Bruce’s jaw clenched at the fading bruises on Y/N’s face. 

“Did F/N do this?” 

“Bruce, I told you I just fell.” The lenses on the cowl narrowed, and Y/N saw the frown grow on the man’s face. Sighing, Y/N scrunched nose and winced when a bruise scrunched with it, “Honestly though Bruce, how did you even get in here? No, how did you even guess this hallway?” 

“You’re rooms this way.”

“Ahhhhh!” Y/N screamed and ran into Bruce’s side for protection against the voice. 

“Dick! Ho-wha- why are you here?!” 

“We were worried.” This time Y/N only flinched, and whirled around to see Damian in the Robin costume. He gaped at the pre-teen, “Oh my God, you all are just spawning out of nowhere.” Damian grabbed his hand, and Y/N couldn’t help but to hold the youngest’s hand. Muscle memory. 

“Y/N, you’re face,” Dick whispered, gently tracing the swollen and discolored skin, “We thought you were sick.” Y/N smiled, leaning into the palm of Dick’s hand, “I was. I’m just getting over it, as for the bruises… Like I was telling Bruce, I just fell.” 

Damian’s grip on Y/N’s hand tightened and the oldest sibling smiled down at him, “What’s wrong Dami?” The youngest gave a small glare through the lenses of the Robin mask, “I find your lies insulting and belittling, Y/N. The truth would be appreciated before things get more drastic.” 

“...Excuse me?” Y/N tried to remove his hand from Damian’s grip, and panicked when Robin refused to let go. 

“Y/N, please be honest. What happened?” Dick, in his Nightwing costume, rested his hands on Y/N's shoulders and tried to coax the truth out of the person he sees as his oldest brother. It only made the other tense, and tried to get out of Damian’s grip. 

“Guys, you’re scaring me.” 

“Y/N, what happened?” Bruce’s voice did nothing to ease the fear that Y/N was experiencing, and for the first time ever in the time he’s known the Wayne family, Y/N didn’t want to be around them. He struggled some more to get away from them, but with Robin’s grip on his hand, Nightwing’s hands on his shoulders, and Batman’s gaze keeping him in place, Y/N found it harder to move. 

Batman sighed, and with a nod that Y/N would have missed if he wasn’t focused on the man, Nightwing’s hand moved closer to Y/N’s neck. The other’s eyes widened, his one free hand moving to stop Nightwing. 

“Wa-”

“Good night, Y/N.” His vision went dark and the only thing he registered was a pair of arms catching him before his body hit the floor. 

++++

Y/N woke with a start, in a very familiar room, with raspberry painted bookshelves and dark sheets. His arms shot up to his face, and bandages rested on his cheeks. Looking at his arm and seeing the sleeves of his pajama pants, Y/N closed his eyes in misery and knew that if he were to lift the sleeves, there would be bandages. 

Sitting up, Y/N grunted and rested his forehead in his hand. 

“Oh good, you’re awake.” 

“Jay…” Y/N watched the other carefully, watching the taller and bigger man silently move across the room to sit next to him. His nose scrunched, “Your brothers and father have some explaining to do. Where are they?” Jason shrugged, “Out. Don’t worry about that, but Y/N, why did you hide this from us?” Y/N stared at Jason for a bit, processing the question and sighing irritably. 

“Cause it's not a big deal. This was the only time and–” 

“One time is still too many times!” Jason yelled, startling Y/N. Wide E/C eyes stared into Jason’s furious blue eyes, the slightest hint of green starting to slowly take over. Y/N gulped, “Jason, it’s fine. I am here now, right?” He reached out and grasped Jason’s larger hand, watching the other calm down with deep breaths. Those blue eyes of his seem to fall on every bandage across Y/N’s face, before looking back down at their clasped hands. 

“Everyone was a mess, you know that right?” Y/N chuckled at him, chalking it up to Jason being overdramatic, “You guys are too funny. I know me going radio silent wasn’t appreciated, but you don’t need to guilt trip me further.” 

“I’m not joking around, Y/N. Everyone was a mess.” There was something in Jason’s tone that had Y/N pausing. His E/C eyes landed on Jason and watched how those eyes continued to glow green. The larger man took a deep breath and seemed to calm whatever raging thoughts he was having, “But it's fine now, because you are here.” Y/N furrowed his brow, but smiled nevertheless, “Yeah.” 

Silence overtook the room and Y/N is still unsure how to proceed. It wasn’t rare for the Batfamily to be a bit… dramatic. For fucks sake Bruce dresses as a giant furry and terrorizes criminals. However, there was something in Jason’s tone that had Y/N stilling. Contemplating his next words and wondering if they were the correct ones to say. 

“You’re awake.” Y/N’s head snapped to the door and standing there was Damian. He gave a smile to the youngest Wayne, “Damian, you're not one to usually enter without knocking.” The youngest strolled over and eyes Jason’s and Y/N’s hands, “I heard you two talking and figured it would be okay if I entered.” Y/N pursed his lips, “Well, true but Dami you should still–” 

“Father wants to talk to you, after dinner.” Green eyes met E/C and there it was again. A glint of something sinister lurking underneath the green. Y/N gulped and outstretched an arm. His palms up like he was approaching a dog, asking to pet it. Damian took the invitation and fell into Y/N’s embrace. Crawling onto Y/N’s bed and into the space underneath Y/N’s arm and against his chest, Damian nuzzled into the space with a content smile. 

Y/N felt his heart rate spike, something alerting him that he is surrounding himself with something dangerous. Which is preposterous. Yeah, Damian was a little psychotic and so was Jason, but they wouldn’t harm Y/N. They wouldn’t hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. 

Yet, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong. 

“When is dinner, Dami?” The younger boy hummed, “At 5:30.” Y/N glanced at the clock reading 5:25. Sighing, gently nudged the two away, “C’mon we have five minutes. Alfred will be upset with us for being late.” Damian grumbled while Jason outwardly expressed his discontent. When Y/N fully stood up, he noted that his clothes were different. 

“Who… who changed me?” Jason shrugged and Damian continued walking. Y/N looked back down at the sweatpants he was now wearing and the oversized shirt. None of which are his. 

“I-I should change first–” 

“C’mon Y/N, no one cares.” 

“Indeed, Drake has shown up before looking horrid. You look wonderful, like always.” Y/N said nothing to address those comments, but the time clicking on the clock had Y/N forgoing dressing and instead grabbing his house slippers. Damian was quick to grab his hand and Jason walked behind like he was protecting Y/N from something. 

The walk was silent, and there were some bruises on Y/N’s body that had him wincing sometimes. Nevertheless, when the sound of chatter began to echo through the halls, Y/N controlled his expressions and braced for the question and answers he wanted. 

“Well, look who finally woke up,” Dick joked and Y/N rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to hear that from the people who broke into my house.” He said it as a jest, but some part of Y/N wanted to mean every word he said. The three culprits didn’t even pretend to look guilty. 

Y/N gave Bruce a pointed look, he busied himself by pouring himself, Y/N, Dick, and Jason wine. Damian released Y/N’s hand to go sit at his respective seat, between Tim and Bruce, while Y/N took his between Bruce’s and Dick’s. Dick smiled at him, “Happy to have you at dinner. They have been quiet for the past few days.”

“If that is your way of saying I talk too much Dick, may I remind you who is the reason we had to enact a five minute quiet period during meals before.” The man laughed, unbothered by that little fact being thrown into the air. 

Dinner continued with the usual chatter, arguments, snide remarks, and dirty looks. Y/N’s absence was barely brought up, and instead he got filled in about what he missed while he was radio-silent. No one questioned the bruises on his face, or the now open secret that Y/N had tried to keep quiet about. 

“Y/N, please see me in my studies.” Bruce gently squeezed Y/N’s shoulder and Y/N followed, thanking Alfred as he did so and waving to all the brothers. The walk was tense, and something kept stirring in Y/N’s stomach that he was walking into something dangerous. Not a trap, because a trap means Y/N didn’t see it or feel it coming. However, he can feel this one. He can feel this one coming, something that would have his life changing, and yet he still kept walking forward. It’s the Waynes. His family. 

They wouldn’t do anything he didn’t like. 

Bruce’s study was as dark and aesthetic as Y/N remembers. A dark oak wood desk, bookshelves, the laptop and monitors, and papers. Y/N rarely set foot in here, mainly because there was never a need to, but he remembers being young and playing hide-n-seek in here with Dick. 

Bruce turned and gently cupped Y/N’s bruised face, turning it slightly to take in each discolored patch of skin and open wounds. Y/N smiled, “Bruce, it’s fine. I’m fine. You and everyone else are just being overdramatic.” 

“Is that what all of this is? Us overreacting?” Y/N gave a nervous chuckle at Bruce’s tone, one he’s heard when the man was Batman. 

“I mean, considering you broke into my house, that seems excessive.” Bruce released Y/N’s face and walked behind his desk, and motioned to a stack of papers. 

“Y/N, if entering your home is considered excessive, then I don’t know how you are going to handle this.” 

“Break in, Bruce. It was a break in, and what are you talking about?” Y/N picked up the paper, and quickly scanned the document. Bruce watched the color drain from Y/N’s face and horror take over those bright E/C eyes. They flickered from the top of the page back to the bottom, and then to Bruce and back to the paper. 

Y/N’s mouth opened and closed, trying to form words he was desperate to say. 

Wayne Enterprise Acquires L/N Industries

Bought. Bruce bought L/N Industries. Bruce bought the company from Y/N’s father, because Y/N isn’t the owner, and there is no way in hell that Y/N would have ever signed off on that. His mother’s company, now just a part of the Wayne monopoly. 

“Wha-what is- Why- Bruce! Bruce, what the hell is this?” Eyes filled with betrayal and anger as Y/N glared at Bruce. The man sighed, “It is as it says. L/N Industries in now under Wayne Enterprise-” 

“But why?! You’ve never shown any interest in the company.” Bruce wasn’t interested in L/N Industries. Wayne Enterprise was not a monopoly, and they didn’t buy companies unless that company was already going bankrupt. Bruce was interested in Y/N’s health, and vengeance. 

“Don’t take it personally, because it's not at you.” Y/N rolled his eyes, “It sure feels like it. Bruce, you know what this company means to me, you can’t just–” 

“Well I did.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze head on, “The company is not in your name, you do not reap the profits, this acquisition was not a jab at you.” Y/N knows who it's a jab at, and he understands why Bruce is angry. However, it does not excuse the fact that this was a jab at the L/N family. 

Y/N clenched his jaw, “There’s no way he just signed it over like that.” Bruce handed him another piece of paper and sure enough, there was his father’s signature. Y/N stared at the inked lines, wondering just how had Bruce gotten that signature so quickly. 

“Blackmail really makes people move faster than the Flash.” 

“Wha… what blackmail?” Bruce raised an eyebrow and Y/N closed his eyes in misery, “Bruce, I get it. I do. He’s not a good father, but you didn’t have to buy the company. He’s literally going to ret-”

“You and I both know he would never retire. You would be working to the bone for him while he reaps all the profit.” Y/N rolls his eyes, and opens his mouth to say something but Bruce cuts him off, “Do NOT roll your eyes at me! Y/N this is serious.” 

Momentarily taken aback by the tone of voice, Y/N stared at a fuming Bruce. He processed the reaction and felt the heat in his stomach return, “Excuse you! You literally bought my family’s company, kind of if not really kidnapped me, and broke into my home! I have every right to be upset, let alone roll my eyes at you.” 

“That place wasn’t your home and you know it.” 

“Doesn’t change anything! That's like saying a break-in at a hotel room doesn’t count because the person doesn’t live in the hotel room.” Y/N could feel his heart rate pick up, and the reality of it all began setting in. 

“Holy shit. Fucking hell Bruce.” 

“Language.” 

“Do not ‘language’ me! Bruce, what the actual hell! All of this is way out of proportion for what happened.” Bruce slammed his hands on his desk, making some papers fly and the cup holding his pens fell. Blue eyes filled with rage glared at Y/N, “You can’t even say what happened! He hit you, Y/N. He beat you like a dog, and animal abusers still go to jail. He’s getting off with only losing the company. 

“And I know that those bruises are the only ones we do see!”  Y/N glared at Bruce, fighting back tears and biting his lips. Bruce sighed, his shoulders deflating and a pained expression on his face. He walked around the desk and hugged Y/N, bringing his son close, “Y/N, I’m sorry. I am. You’ll still be running the company, and will have a final say in things. It's just… God, Y/N. Not hearing from you and then seeing you like that...” Bruce took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions, "It was terrifying, Y/N. How could I let you stay there when all of that was done to you?"

Y/N wrapped his arms around Bruce, ignoring the feeling of dread of doing so. He ignored how Bruce’s arms tightened around him, “Oh Y/N, please. Please stay here where you are safe.” 

He didn’t want to admit that it sounded more of an order than a request. This was Bruce! His father in everything but blood and paper. 

“Just… just please don’t do that again.” 

“It won’t happen again. I promise.” 

______________________________________________________________

Not a whole lot of Yandere, but thats why there will be two parts! Not just one.

#batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #batfam #bruce wayne #platonic batfam #platonic batman #batfam x male reader #yandere imagines #yandere #batfamily x reader #batfamily shenanigans #jason todd #dc robin #red hood #yandere dick grayson #yandere bruce wayne #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne

[currently-reading-a-book]

Faux Love, Real Hearts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Spencer must pose as a couple for a mission. However, one question remains: why does he keep calling you 'love'?

Genre: smut

Warning: talking about a criminal case, making out, fake dating (let me know if I forgot something)

Word Count: 882 words

A/N: As always, any criticism is very welcome. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. English is not my first language. 

Anyway, enjoy :)

✧ 🎀 -------------------------------------------------------------- 🎀 ✧

You blushed yesterday, you blushed today and you most definitely will blush tomorrow. You simply will never get used to his soft voice whispering: “Sorry, love.” 

 As he calmly brushes past you. You will never get used to his rough hands brushing against your skin from time to time. You will never get used to his soft backrubs or his light kisses against your forehead. Perhaps it’s better this way. If you’re used to his permanent presence your heart would break into two when this mission ends. When all of this ends. Every day you’re hoping that the mission is continued another day, just to be with him. And for a certain time, it did work; until it didn’t anymore.

For more than a year, you have been working in the Behavioral Unit (BAU) department of the FBI. As an aspiring Agent, you are willing to do anything to save people. The team welcomed you warmly, always helping you where they could since you were the youngest member. You feel safe because you know they will always have your back. Yet nothing could have prepared you for your latest mission. The mission where you and Spencer had to fake a romantic relationship. Spencer was a good boyfriend; a fake one sadly.

This unsub is targeting young couples, so the team decided you and Spencer would be the best ones to fit his victimology. Quickly you move into a fake house that isn’t yours; drive a fake car and act like a fake couple deeply in love with each other.

“Are you ready to go to bed, darling?”, shouted Spencer down from your shared bedroom.

It was a comfortable room with a carpeted floor and a large king-size bed. Oh, how you loved this bed; nevertheless, nothing compares to sleeping beside Spencer. Your sleep quality improving enormously. Maybe Spencer has to do with it...

Without answering you went up, already in your pyjamas ready to get a good night’s sleep in. Today you search through lots of recordings in hopes of finding a lead in the case; Spencer of course helping you, but how could anybody read faster than Reid himself? You collapse onto the bed, feeling utterly exhausted. The slender nerdy boy, with his thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, is deeply engrossed in his book. Every now and then, he looks up from his reading, his bright eyes shining with a gentle smile that warms your heart.

“You must be absolutely tired, love.”

“God, yeah,” you laugh awkwardly. A strange silence surrounded them.

“Come here,” he opened his arms gesturing her to come closer. 

She found herself in a state of confusion, uncertain of what to do next. As she lay there, she couldn't help but feel drawn towards Reid's comforting presence. She knew that cuddling with him would be unprofessional, but his warm embrace felt like a safe haven that she longed to be in. The conflicting thoughts in her mind left her feeling torn and indecisive, so she stayed where she was.

Since she didn’t come closer, he decided to drew closer to her. His hot breath tickled her neck as he whispered against her ears sending shivers down her spine: "You know we have to act like a real couple, you want to catch this unsub, don’t you?”  

She gulped silently. Of course, she wanted to catch this motherfucker who’s been killing around D.C., however, all she could think right now was how close Spencer was and how his hot breath felt amazing against her neck. 

“Spencer…,” was the only thing she could whisper back.

His hands grip her waist lovingly, bringing her closer to him.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he murmured against her hair, kissing the top of her head softly.

Another gulp. Feeling hot all over her body, you tried to think a straight thought, but how can you think rationally when a hot FBI agent's body is nearly pressed against yours? Particularly Spencers hot body.

“Kiss me, Spencer.”

Without a second of hesitation, he crashed his lips against yours. Like a starved man, his kiss was impatient and rough, in contrast to the delicate touch of his hands all over your body. You could feel his warm big hands exploring every inch of your body. Oh, how good it felt.

“Fuck, I wanted to do this since day one,” he cursed against your lips before softly biting them. His tongue teased your lips, wanting to enter your mouth. Gently you open your lips and your and his tongue dance together. His soft lips moved their way down to your jaw, then your neck where they stayed for a bit, nibbling at your flesh. You reached for his curls, gripping them which he responded with a moan. 

“If I had to act like this stupid fake couple thing again I would absolutely, do it, just to taste your sweet lips, love.” He smiled against your neck.

“Wait,” you pushed him a bit away from you, “you don’t enjoy this fake dating?”

He took a deep breath. Panic started washing over you. Of course, he wouldn't like your back, what do you think? 

"No". His angelic voice brought you back from your negative thoughts: “I would like more if we were dating real.”

#spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #x reader #y/n #imagine #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #bau team #smut #reading #books #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer x y/n #spencer reid fandom #doctor spencer reid #fem reader #female reader #reader insert

[manjjiros]

TRICKED YOU!

ran haitani / rindou haitani / sanzu haruchiyo x gn!reader (separate)

cws: suggestive but fluffy, like actually kind of tooth rotting, little white lies, established relationship (ran), situationships (rindou, sanzu), discussions of drug usage (sanzu), bonten timeline, ask to tag

from the ASM: tricking the trio into getting some rest isn’t exactly easy. but the probability of getting it to work is not exactly zero, either.

over the loudspeaker: @sin-and-punishment

— RAN HAITANI.

“raaaan,” you whined into the receiver, rolling over in your sheets and letting them rustle against your phone.

you heard your poor boyfriend let out a breath on the other end of the line. “what’s the matter, angel? i’m a little tied up at the moment.”

you knew he was, obviously, or you wouldn’t be calling. you knew his schedule inside and out by now, when he had meetings, when he ran off on sudden jobs to handle important business you had no interest in knowing about.

it was always a little more fun to be able to pull him from some boring, dreadful meeting than when he was free to join you.

“come home,” you breathed, and you heard the way he hummed in the back of his throat.

“i can’t, come on. you know this. don’t make me feel bad.”

“but the bed’s cold, ran. aren’t you gonna come make it warm again?”

there was a brief pause and some speaking in the background. clearly he was in a meeting, which you had expected.

“warm up yourself, angel-“

“no, come home. i just want you.”

ran grunted into the phone, and you heard him pull the device from his ear and shout towards the voices in the background. it was muffled and broke up a bit; the reception in abandoned warehouses typically wasn’t the best.

“ran?”

“i’m here. just- stay put. ‘m coming. you gonna be good f’ me?”

“yeah.”

“fine. see you soon.” he hung up, and you smiled to yourself, successful in your endeavor.

you’d left the door open for him and left a set of sleep clothes at the edge of the bed for him. he hadn’t been sleeping, you knew that; the circles under his eyes and the way he forced himself out of bed in the mornings gave it away. something must have happened, or maybe something resurfaced — he hadn’t told you yet, but you could make an educated guess.

ran arrived at your place within the half hour, the heels of his slick shoes clicking along the floorboards as he made his way towards your room where you waited for him, cuddled up in your duvet with the lamp light casting everything in a warm yellow.

he nudged the door open with a huff, smiling briefly before pausing. “i have to admit, this isn’t what i was expecting.”

“what, don’t wanna just nap?”

“i thought you were calling for a hookup.”

“dirty mind! i never said that,” you giggled at his exasperated face before pulling back the covers to give him space. “come on, baby. you look exhausted. you’ve got bags under your eyes.”

“don’t say that shit, my eyes are fine.”

“because you steal my eye cream!” you pouted then, folding your arms at his pushback.

he grumbled at you but ultimately eyed up the empty space next to you in the bed, letting out a loud sigh.

“cant believe i left the meeting to come take a nap. what is this, high school? i used to do this shit as a kid. play hooky and sleep in weird places.” he yawned as he spoke, undressing his three-piece suit in exchange for the t-shirt and shorts you left out for him. you just nodded along and patted the space next to you for him to climb into.

he joined you, eventually, long limbs grabbing onto you to pull you in close and bury his face in your chest. you smiled as the scent of his cologne floated up around you, the smell of his hair gel right under your nose.

it felt like it was barely two minutes before your talkative boyfriend was knocked out against your chest, your fingers combing through his hair.

— RINDOU HAITANI.

to: annoying prick

me: come over.

annoying prick: how about a please?

me: come over Now. miss you.

annoying prick: i screenshotted that for evidence.

me: i hope you crash on your way here.

annoying prick: i didn’t say i was coming? smfh.

you rolled your eyes at your phone as you fussed with the string of his hoodie around your finger. rindou never listened when you invited him over, always giving you a hard time despite expecting you to bend to his will whenever he wanted to see you.

oftentimes things happened on his terms, not yours. which normally isn’t a problem, except for this one time when you wanted to fuck with him.

your finger hovered over the call button before you opted for another direction, opening up your camera and taking a quick photo of his hoodie string between your teeth, cute and suggestive and alluring. you made sure to get most of your upper body in the shot, laid back against your pillows.

me: [1 image]

me: come over? now?

annoying prick: is that my

annoying prick: cheap shot. stay there. don’t even think about touching.

you laughed at how quickly his tone changed, shaking your head at his ridiculousness. he was a grown man, sure, but he was rude and mean and often thought with his dick rather than his head.

you heard the revv of his bike engine before you saw it through his window, clicking your tongue when you spotted him without a helmet. you understood that he was some sort of criminal, but you kind of liked him, sort of, and didn’t actually want him to crash and die.

you watched him park the bike illegally in front of your place and hop off of it quickly, straightening out the front of his suit jacket as he walked up towards the door.

you heard him grumble when the door was locked, fucking around for the spare key before finally getting inside your home and beelining towards your room.

you broke into giggles as he shoved your door open and undid the front two buttons of his suit jacket, trying to clamber over your body on the bed. “tease, calling me home from bein’ busy just to fuck around, what are you-“

“aht,” you stopped him with a finger to his chest, shaking your head, “not what i invited you here for.”

he stared back at you, hesitating and hovering over your form. “excuse me?”

you chose that exact moment to whip out the puppy eyes, jutting out your bottom lip and laying back on your pillows, “my bed was cold, rin! just wanted you to come over and take a nap with me.”

he gawked at you before sitting up on his knees and running a hand through his hair. “are you being fucking serious?”

“yes.”

“you invited me over. to nap?”

“mhm. and now you’re here. so let’s take one.”

“what the-“

“please?” you cocked your head and tried the puppy eyes again, to which he made a face, but didn’t necessarily move away.

“i don’t have-“

“you leave clothes here all the time. i have some set out in the bathroom.”

“fuck you.”

“maybe next time.” you broke into laughter as he succumbed to his fate, getting out of your bed to disappear down the hall into your bathroom. he returned within five minutes, having changed into a pair of pajama pants and forgetting his shirt, standing at the side of your bed awkwardly.

“well? come in, i’m exhausted.”

“this is weird.”

“no it’s not. just lay down, asshole.” you huffed and pulled back the covers for him. he squinted at you, having taken his contacts out, before reluctantly crawling into the bed next to you. you snuggled up against his side, to which he tensed, but ultimately ended up wrapping an arm around you anyway.

he fell asleep before you did, mouth open and drooling all over your pillow. you took a photo, not because you liked him or anything… well…

— SANZU HARUCHIYO.

convincing sanzu to listen to you at all was like trying to train a poodle. it was very, very difficult because he was very, very defiant.

you knew he hadn’t been sleeping well. you knew it well, unfortunately; his work was catching up to him and drugs weren’t your favorite solution to the problem.

you told him time and time again that he needed rest, that it was because you cared that you were nagging at him, and yet he always bit right back at you like a dog nipping its owner’s hand.

you had had enough. so you decided to play the game.

you sat in his car waiting for him to finish some job in some remote part of the red light district, in a back alley with no prying eyes or lights, really.

you sat in wait until finally sanzu reappeared in the faded yellow light of the nearest street lamp, wiping his hands on a handkerchief and kicking a lead pipe against the wall. you chose not to question his line of work.

he grinned when he saw you in the passenger’s seat, as if he had forgotten you were there, and hurried around to the driver’s seat to get in and lean into your space.

“all done now, baby.” he pressed kisses to the corners of your lips, making you giggle before he caught your mouth with his own.

you hummed against his lips, lifting a hand to curl your fingers around his tie. “haru,” you breathed, tugging lightly on the fabric, “can we please get home? wanna get into bed with you…”

he pulled back slightly to meet your gaze with his own crazed one, eyes studying you almost clinically as a grin spread across his face. “oh yeah? baby wants to get home?”

“mhm.”

“hell yeah, i’ll get you fuckin’ home.” he pulled back from you to start the car, and you gripped the oh-shit handle because you knew he was just going to peel out of the alleyway.

and that he did, whipping down side streets and revving the engine, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping your thigh.

you giggled to yourself as you watched the veins in his arm, shaking your head. he just had no idea how easy he was to fool.

it took far shorter of a time than it should have to get back to your place, and he parked before hurrying out of the car and getting the passenger door for you.

you got out and led him to the door, feeling him stalk your every movement, only ever one step behind you. you unlocked your door and kicked your shoes off with a laugh as he tried to pin you against the nearest wall, freeing yourself from his grasp and making your way towards your room.

he grunted as he followed you, muttering something about you being a tease.

you turned on your heel once you got to your room and took a seat on the bed. “much better. i’m so tired, haru.”

“huh?”

“let’s just go to bed, how about it?” you started to get undressed as he stood in your doorway, scarred lips twitching with confusion.

“what are you talking about?”

“haru, let’s go to bed. i know you’re tired too.”

“no, this is-“

“no buts.” you stood to shimmy out of the rest of your clothing and tug your pajamas on. “strip and cuddle with me.”

haru wasn’t a cuddler, not by a long shot. but, with you…

he felt like he blinked, and suddenly he was on his back in your bed with you at his side in the dark. you snuggled up closer to him and ran your fingers through his hair.

soon enough, his breathing evened out, and you smiled to yourself as his grip on you grew tighter in his sleep.

#ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #♧ — ran haitani #♧ — rindou haitani #♧ — sanzu

[morgana-ren]

I DONT KNOW IF YOU WRITE FULL FICS BUT IF YOU DO PLEASE WIRTE ONE ABOUT TGAT LAST ASK.

Just about Astarion sitting in his throne of sorts, in the palace, with tav sitting in his lap. He’s bored, tav sits there- dissociating and wishing they were anywhere else. He asks them if they’d like to do something fun and they say something like “Only if you do my lord” and he saddens some, expecting them to come up with something fun like they used to but they can’t think of anything that he would approve of them doing after so many years of breaking them down and he realizes it’s gotten so dull because tav was the person that brightened his life

"Awfully dull today, hmm? How would you like to do something fun, my love?"

It's an oh-so rare quiet day in the Crimson Palace, and his favorite source of amusement sits placidly on his lap, silent as the grave and still atop him. Content as he is in the peaceful quiet with solely her company, he'd spend the day with her doing– well, something, surely. It’s been a while since they’ve had any time to themselves to truly enjoy each other’s company alone. In fact, he cannot recall the last time with any distinct accuracy.

It seems so terribly long since they've had any time to themselves. Being a Lord keeps you awfully busy.

In a tender moment, he reaches forward to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear with a long, pale finger. She doesn’t react save a slight instinctual flicker of her lashes. Not a hint of expression on her face. He expects her to lean into his touch as she used to and is almost shocked when she does not.

Odd, he thinks. She hardly even seems to notice anything at all.

It’s almost like she isn���t entirely present.

Still, before he can chastise her, she responds to his bid for her attention.

"If that is your wish, my lord,” She responds to his question, lifeless and monotone. Perfectly obedient, just as befits her, and yet—

He frowns, just a little. It irks him, but now that he thinks about it, he cannot recall the last time he saw enthusiasm on her face– or much of anything at all aside from the blank, hollow mask she has now. Completely impassive and unresponsive in a cruel sort of practiced indifference. 

He studies her for a moment and comes to the conclusion that it reminds him of the robots they found in that strange tower in the Underdark so long ago. Programmed to respond to the right things and make the right moves, but utterly incapable of acting on her own whims. Eternally awaiting instruction. 

Empty. Robotic. Precise and yet disingenuous somehow. Eerily so.

Has she been like this before? Has he simply not noticed?

Perhaps she just needs to awaken a little more. It was such a long night, and he had kept her remarkably busy. She must be exhausted, but surely, she will perk up. She always does. 

Doesn’t she?

“Come, darling. What would you like to do?” He jostles his knees, dandling her on his legs like one might a small, particularly grumpy child. She bumps up and down, only reaching to steady herself on the sides of his throne. 

“Whatever would please you would please me, my lord.”

He groans, rolling his red eyes, a very sudden burst of irritation bubbling in his gut. Always with the My lord, My lord, scraping and bowing like some sort of indentured serf. Proper respect is important, of course, but for the first time in a while— longer than he can honestly think back on, to be honest— they are entirely alone. He is her Lord, yes, but she knew him by another name once– did know him by another name. She knows better than to tease him in front of his vassals but surely—

He can’t remember the last time she said his name. 

His real name. 

How long since he has truly sat by her side and talked with her? Spent time with her? He's been so busy, laying plans and waste, conquering and shedding blood of those who oppose him. The Lord Tyrant, come to rule over his dominion of Eternal Night. She is always by his side, never straying and yet— 

(“I love you, Little Star,” She’d laugh, planting a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, which would promptly crinkle in annoyance. 

“I’m not ‘Little Star,’ and I’ll never understand why you insist on calling me that.” 

“That’s what your name means, doesn’t it? Little Star? Or perhaps Little Starlight– I don’t really remember.”

“Then why make that my pet name?" He rolls his eyes, annoyed at the use of his own childish moniker that follows him like a shadow to anyone who speaks even a lick of his native language. "Of all the things your brilliant little mind can concoct, you give me a child’s handle? I’m strong, dashing, capable, handsome, fearsome– but instead you choose that absurdity” 

“Because you’re my little star!” And she would smile so brightly that it seemed impossible in the darkness, and he could not help but smile himself. “My light in the darkness. My Astarion, for as long as you want to be. And I love you.” 

His expression would soften once again and he would simply sigh, pulling her close to kiss her temple. The night was cold, but she was so impossibly warm against him, somehow fitting perfectly in his lap and into his heart, where she’d wormed her way in against his own will. The dim firelight reflects in her eyes as she tells him again that she loves him forever if he’ll have her, and he can think of nothing he’d desire more than to ride out the endless night of eternity with her here on his lap, cradled close.)

Something gnaws at him. Something raw and edged with a vicious sort of misery he’d done so well to avoid in ages. He cannot place it but as he looks at her, his stomach is as a dark, abyssal pit, circling and swelling like a maelstrom. 

Something is wrong.

He cannot place the negative emotion, and so he does as he always does now, making the strange yearning her responsibility to soothe. 

He lashes out at her. 

“I’m growing bored,” He says with a cold, cruel edge to his voice. “You know how much I dislike boredom, don't you, darling?"

What he seeks is a reaction. A sudden spark of life from within her. For her to grab his hand and take him to do— to do something. Surely—

And yet, with a motion so fluid that it implies an aged and practiced skill, she slides from his lap down to her knees before him, reaching towards the laces of his breeches. There is nothing behind her eyes as she extends her hand forward to unlace him, hardly even seeing him. Nothing at all. 

“What are you doing?” He slaps her hands away, scowling down at her, taken back by her brashness. 

“You said you were bored, my Lord.”

“And why would you think–” 

Because that is what he’d taught her. 

That her body was built for his amusement; his temple to defile at will. Because of the cold nights in the castle after so many years where he would reach for her, and she would quiver and shake her head with eyes rimmed red and puffy and beg to be left untouched and yet he would speak the words without thinking and she would bend for him any way he wished. 

Because even as she would obey, she would cry and turn away, and he would give it little thought until one night the crying and protesting simply stopped. He thought she had learned. Made peace with her duties and loyalty to him and what it entailed. Mayhaps she had come to realize that her theatrics had little impact on him and surely, he wasn’t so wretched to her now that these waterworks were necessary. His touch could not repulse her so that her weeping was remotely acceptable. She loves him, surely she—

Because he would command her until she would kneel, and so now, she kneels without command.

He sighs, breathing the fire from his lungs, reaching down to pull her back up into his lap. She does not respond, only obeys in kind to his guiding instruction as he settles her back down on his legs. He finds a semblance of patience from within himself which is a strange and unusual feeling, mustering it up to once again ask:

“My dear, what is it that you would like to do?” 

Her head cocks. She does not understand. 

"What would you enjoy? If you had the freedom to do anything, what might it be?"

It takes a moment, but for the first time, a reaction: Confusion. It is slow to take hold but becomes blaringly apparent as it does. It is not as if she doesn’t know the answer, but almost as if she doesn’t understand the question. 

“Whatever you would like to do, my Lo–”

“No, no, darling. What is it you would like to do?” He impresses, harsher this time, and she flinches, recoiling from… something. 

From him.  

If her heart was still capable of beating, he'd be able to hear the way it pumps into overdrive. As it stands, he cannot, but he is aware no less. Her scent changes entirely around him to something that has his brows furrowing. Shortness of breath, dilating pupils, hands beginning to quake— Adrenaline. Steel-edged anxiety. As if this is not a question at all, but rather a test and she does not know the answer, and failure means his displeasure and his displeasure means–

"I— What would you—" She hard-swallows, harrowed by the open-endedness of the question. "—I want what—"

("Come to the meadow with me, Asto," She would grab his hand with a mischievous smile when their compatriots were fast asleep, tugging him up from the comfort of his bedroll. "I want you to come with me."

"It's late, darling. Wouldn't you rather come here and lie with me?" He would try to tug her back down playfully, but would fall against her aggressive temerity, being pulled to his feet through her sheer will. She would stifle her giggling with a hand as she guided him past their slumbering companions, through the tree line and deep into the forest. 

"Come on, lazy boy, come! Come with me!"

"Well, I'm trying to—"

She would hush him and yank him by the wrist, out into the field where he'd first had her, down once more into a bed of wildflowers and long grass. Her melodic laugh like a strange song as she yanks him to the ground despite his weak protests until she would lie her head on his chest and trace gentle patterns on his white shirt against his flexed chest. 

"We don't have to come all the way out here to make love, darling—" He would move to try to kiss her, but she would adamantly press her head against his torso, insisting he stay down in the dirt with her. 

"I'm not trying to seduce you," She would giggle, pointing at the star-spangled sky. "I want to lie under the stars with you." 

"But… why?"

"Because I know we'll have eternity to do it, but it's my favorite moon tonight and it reminded me of you."

He squints, struggling to find anything different about it at all. "I don't notice anything, darling. It looks very much like the moon we see every night." 

"It's so full and bright! Look at the rays!" She holds her hand out as if to cradle a silvery moonbeam in her palm. "It reminds me of the color of your hair." 

She reaches over him to delicately pluck something from the grass, tucking it gingerly behind his ear after she does so. "These poppies are the same beautiful deep red of your eyes in the moonlight. I feel safe here; home, with you. I just wanted to enjoy it for a moment. Just the two of us."

He would wrap his arms around her waist, squeezing so tightly that she would gasp and worm about, trying to return the favor, and yet he would not relent. 

"I want you to feel safe with me," he would whisper into her hair, desperately trying to memorize the scent of it, as if expecting Bhaal himself to come and steal her from his frantic embrace. "Now and forever, I want to feel home in your arms, with you.")

He thinks, for a moment, to return to that meadow, and that perhaps his love— the one he remembers— will return to him. As if her ghost still lingers there, trapped and waiting to be rescued. 

He can’t. 

It is not a meadow any longer, but a battlefield, not unlike the vile destruction left in Ketheric's wake at Raithewait; another one in a million places sacrificed in his conquest for glory, littered with bodies and bones. A graveyard tribute to his power, scorched soil and dead grass. No flowers bloom there anymore— there is nowhere for them to bloom between the suffocating aura of death. 

All that is left is a beautiful memory buried beneath a river of dried blood, and you cannot water flowers with dried blood or wean them on bone dust. That meadow is one moment suspended in time as trapped in amber, impossible to claw free from its temporal prison. He cannot remember the last time he saw that jovial smile she had saved just for him in that damned meadow. 

He cannot recall the last time she said the words "I love you" and cried his name as a preternaturally beautiful siren song without being commanded. 

He frowns, feeling something strange and haunting in his chest. Something viciously clawing up his throat as he looks at her: at her empty red eyes that were once the most beautiful color, full of love and life when she looked upon him; at her contorted expression that used to be as radiant as the sun and he could have sworn that her light could have sustained him through the dark, miserable nights of his eternal curse if only she was by his side; at the frailty of her body that almost seems to creak and break beneath his weight. 

"My love, look at me."

And she does, if not by command, then by instinct. 

"Smile for me, will you? Can you do that for me?" 

And she does, her lips turning upward and raising to reveal two sharp teeth— and nothing more. It's uncanny and revolting and wrong. There is nothing behind her eyes, nothing at all. No light, no life, and certainly no love. 

He used to be able to see himself in her eyes. How her heart sang for him, cheeks blossoming with blood at the sight of him. He could hear her heart rabbit behind her ribs, her hands quaking with excitement to touch him even in the most innocent of ways. Through her eyes, he found his own value— his own worth— and finally began to understand that he deserved love; he deserved happiness. She had healed him, giving almost all of herself to do it, selflessly and without asking for anything in return even as he despised himself and refused his own agency—

And she stares at him now with soulless eyes, he is left to wonder if he has taken too much from her in his quest to take everything. Wonders if she will ever be that lovestruck, moon-eyed girl again, wanting nothing more than to lie under the moonlit meadow with him. If she will ever kiss his eyelids as a delicate butterfly and whisper eternity in his ear. If she will ever feel safe and home and loved around him again in his embrace–

Save she is no longer quaking with anticipation at his touch, but trembling from fear, lost and terrified at the posing of a simple question. Her scent is foreign even as it is familiar and he cannot recall when it began to change. There is something in her eyes that haunts him, and though he can see himself within him, what stares back is not him. A terrible realization rakes knives down his soul, a gaping maw threatening to swallow him whole. A tightening in his lungs, and even as he does not breathe, he does not believe he could even if he tried. 

“Darling?” 

“Yes, my Lord?” 

Her face is impassive once more. Perfect porcelain expression. Not a crack in the mask. Not a wrinkle in the facade. Practiced day in and day out until it becomes real. He remembers it well.

How long has it been? How long since he has looked at her? Truly looked at her? Spoken to her? Told her he loved her? 

Showed her he loves her?

When was the last day he did not command from her that which she begged not to willingly give?

He cannot remember. He cannot recall. 

He demanded and she had no choice but to give. More and more and more. He drained her dry and now where was once his sacred oasis, there is nothing at all. No matter how long he looks, there is never a flicker of anything in her glassy eyes. 

He wonders if even as he has gotten everything he has ever wanted, he lost the one thing he needed. 

It paralyzes him. For the first time in an ageless eternity, he feels something: Panic. 

Even his endless power cannot bring her back. His beloved is dead, and he has killed her. Upon him sits a pretty corpse, empty and devoid of all that made her her. A doll with her face. A doll with barely even that. 

Her laugh, her smile. Her passion and desire and love. The tenderness inside of her and the warmth she once held. Everything that pulled him from his shell and showed him how to love once more. He bloomed in her light– and then snuffed it out entirely. 

How long has it been? How long has she been gone?

Though she may be undying, he realizes with horror akin to a dawning sun that she is gone– and has been for some time. 

“You seem stressed, my Lord? How can I make you happy again?”

Second part of the story HERE

#morgana and friends #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #literally whatever you want it to be #very bad implications here do not read if sensitive #bad mean astarion #sort of #lots of mistakes here fellas #i TOLD yall i was having a tough time writing #this needed more time and work but man I just CANNOT focus #you get the gist right #this needed more detail and to be longer but i was struggling here #god i need medicine or something #one down about 399 more to go lmao