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dpspcehntr · 6 months ago

Note

I love all your writings on LADs!! I somehow imagine all the Lads having dick piercings (tongue piercing is even better) for some reason. It would be a great if you write it but it’s totally up to you!!

I hope you are having a great day today 🫧🌊🎧🕯️

Firstly, thank you so much 😭😭! I’m always worried my writing isn’t good so thank you so much! Secondly, your mind is a beautiful place to think of this and I’ll gladly give this a go! (Had to do a quick google search and I didn't know there were so many! I'm shocked!)

Warning: genital piercings, tongue piercing, smut, p in v, oral (f and m receiving), handjob

My ask box is open! Send me your NSFW head cannons/thoughts/confessions about the LADS main 4! I might even write some of them up!

Zayne

"I don't see what the issue is but yes I do in fact have one. It was during my more "adventurous" early 20s. Do you wish to see it?"

Zayne sat in the chair in front of you as you sat on the edge of his desk. His head resting on your thigh as you absentmindedly play with his hair. It was his down time during his night shift and he asked you to stop by to keep him company.

"I thought I knew everything about you. Of course I want to see it."

He blushes a deep shade of pink and clears his throat. He pushes his chair back and stands up. He's slow to take off his belt, hoping you'll say you're just joking but you stay silent as he finally takes himself out his boxers. You eyes instantly zone in on the pretty piercing on the head and reach out to touch it. He turns his head as you take in in your hand. Your touch is enough for him to blow his load but he tries his best to hold his composer.

"It's pretty. Does it have any sexual benefits?'

You muse as you pump him faster in your hands, his composer faltering. Without making eye contact he turns back toward you.

"I d-don't know. Maybe we can try it out."

He takes your hand away from him and pulls you into a kiss.

Xavier

Your clit throbs with over stimulation as he finally sits back up after being between your legs for what felt like hours. Edging you all night with his tongue and the piercing in it. Your legs shake slightly as he leans into you for another kiss. You swirl your tongue in his mouth, tasting yourself on him and moaning loudly into him.

"Just a little bit more, okay. I promise you'll get what you want."

He whispers into your lips as you tighten your grip on him. You feel him line himself up with your dripping entrance and slowly push in. The piercing on the head rubbing your walls deliciously as you clench down further on him. He groans into your mouth as he pushes further in.

"Just a little more, you're doing so well for me."

He bottoms out with a groan as you release onto him. The feeling overwhelming as he continues to thrust in and out of you, prolonging your orgasm. You thanked the powers at be he kept the piercing as your next orgasm begins to build up within you.

Rafayel

"Why did you get it?"

He looks over at you from his painting with a blush.

"It was a dare from a friend of mine in art school and uh well I let my ego win. Though I don't regret it, it makes things more fun."

You cross the room to stand right behind him. You wrap your arms around his waist and lean your head in the crook of his neck.

"Can I see it?"

Your hands slide lower and lower on his body as he tries his best to ignore you and finish his painting. It doesn't work, your hand is already sitting at the top of his pants waiting to slide into his underwear.

"Shit. Gimme a sec."

He sets the paintbrush down and unbuckles his pants. You slide your hand into his underwear and slowly rub him off, paying special attention to the piercing on the head. Soon enough you find yourself on the floor of his studio with him panting over you holding himself at your entrance. Feeling the ball of the piercing hitting your g spot sends a wave of unexpected pleasure over you. He lets out a satisfied grunt as you clench down on him just a bit more. You could get used to this.

Sylus

“Well I usually take them out before you get here, but I was in a bit of a rush today, kitten.”

You look down at the piercing on the head with curiosity as you finish taking him out of his boxers. Your mouth salivates at the idea of having it in your mouth and eagerly take in in your mouth. A hiss slips past his lips as he cards his fingers through your hair. The feeling of the piercing in your mouth and his own noise makes your head spin with desire. Your underwear already wet with your slick as you take him deeper into your mouth. The fingers in his hair tighten just slightly and you're seeing stars. You moan around him as you cum untouched, ruining your underwear and leaving a wet spot on your pants. You shiver as he pulls himself out of your mouth and gives you a look.

"Did you make a mess, sweetie?"

You can only nod as he places a hand under your chin to look up at him. He looked absolutely ravished and all you wanted was to make him cum.

"It's only fair that I clean it up. Turn around."

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littlechivalry · 6 months ago

Text

Wedding Bell Blues

(no Upside Down AU, meet-ugly, Baker!Steve/wedding singer!Eddie)

Eddie is a wedding musician and it's pretty great actually. It's not the rock star life he dreamed of but it's a damned sight better than most people including him expected of Al Munson's little boy.

Eddie gets to play music. For a living. And he does pretty well. He gets to dress up a little snazzy. He gets free fancy food and a couple of drinks. And he gets to shoot his shot with anybody that looks like fun.

He's good at it too. That's the best part. His younger years spent being a low level drug dealer and a high level weirdo mean he can read a room in an instant. He gets the playlist from the bride usually, presses for some other song ideas, and he can tell who to take requests from at six paces. And who to ignore from across the room.

It's a good time.

Unfortunately not all ceremonies can be winners and based on the tension Eddie has felt from almost everyone involved in today's wedding it was going to be a tough gig.

Everything starts in an hour but Eddie isn't on until the reception so he has plenty of time to grab a smoke before soundcheck. He knows the venue pretty well and there's an alcove next to the vendor loading area. Nice flowers, a decent bench, and it's nowhere near the dumpsters.

This venue butts up against a small patch of woodland and Eddie wonders if he might have time to check it out, see if there's anything inspiring. He doesn't hike but he does enjoy a walk in nature.

Before he gets the chance a baby blue van with 'Steve's Sweets' painted across the side pulls up, blocking his sight line.

He mourns the loss of his view right up until the driver pops the door open and climbs out.

Oh, the beauties nature provides.

Acid wash jeans which under any other circumstances Eddie would laugh at are lovingly hugging possibly the finest ass he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.

The rest of the picture - when he can drag his attention away - is pretty choice too. A soft looking pink sweater, sleeves pushed up to expose sun bronzed skin making Eddie idly wonder if the man is that tan all over.

The crowning glory is a gorgeous head of hair framing a face that Eddie can only describe as pretty.

Eddie tries to turn his attention back to his cigarette. Admiring someone is one thing, leering like a creep is entirely different.

He takes a last drag and drops the filter on the gravel, grinding it out under his feet. Mentally he says farewell to the handsome stranger and turns to go back inside.

Eddie takes two steps before a suit clad man comes out of the building and pushes past him in a rush.

"Steven."

The man's not yelling, but his voice is the kind of loud that demands to be heard.

Eddie turns to watch as the man approaches the van and the other guy, Steve apparently, standing in front of it.

"What the hell are you doing here dressed like that."

Eddie should go inside. This isn't his business. But one of the perks of working weddings was the drama and this was very promising.

He stays where he is, standing just in front of the door. In case either man looks in his direction Eddie actually mimes patting at his jacket like he is looking for his smokes.

"I'm delivering a cake, Dick. And if it wasn't for Diana I wouldn't even be doing that much. She deserves to get something good out of this day."

Eddie bites back a smile, lowering his head a little so he can still watch what was happening ideally without being noticed.

"You will refer to me as father. I believe I have earned at least that much respect."

Eddie feels his eyebrows rise. This kind of drama was another part of why he likes weddings. Better than the soap operas he watches with Uncle Wayne.

"Sure," Steve snorts. "Tell you what, I'll compromise," and he continues, "Riiichaaaard."

"Grow up, Steven. You were invited here as a guest. You had better have a tuxedo in that stupid truck of yours, the ceremony starts in an hour."

"I was hired to bake a cake. Part of my fee includes delivery. That is literally the only reason I'm here. You and the future ex-Mrs Harrington will have to celebrate without me. Try not to cry yourself to sleep about it."

"You little asshole," Richard snarls. "You think you're better than me. You think I wanted you here? You owe me your presence. I have important people coming to this wedding and I need them to see my dutiful son at my side."

The baker laughs, a low nasty chuckle that sends a perverse shiver down Eddie's back.

"Tell you what, Dick, I'm booked up today but I'll come to your next wedding." Eddie looks up to see Steve is grinning, bright and as sharp as a knife. "I'll even get you a toaster."

Eddie lurches in place as he sees Richard lunge towards Steve. He is too far away to stop the man but he has to do something.

Before he takes a step the door swings open again and a petite woman comes rushing out.

"Richard?"

Eddie watches as she runs forward tugging at the satin bathrobe she is wrapped in. She freezes a few feet away from what had been brewing into a nasty fight.

"Steve? You're here-- oh, but your suit! Richard? What's going on?"

The older man doesn't turn around, doesn't seem to notice her at all but Eddie watches Steve gingerly move until he is standing between his father and the woman.

"Hey Diana," he says softly. "Sorry you had to see this, dad and me just have a difference of opinion. Everything's fine."

Eddie feels something in him clench. He is very familiar with the tone in Steve's voice. He had heard it from his uncle Wayne to his dad when he was a little kid. It is soft but firm, implacable. Eddie isn't sure exactly what is coming but he can tell Steve knew and that it would be bad.

The venue usually had at least two security patrolling the grounds, more if the reception was expected to be contentious. Eddie doesn't know where they are right now but hopefully not far.

"See what you've done Steven? God, you're useless."

"Richard, don't say that," Diana says, her voice rising.

The older man is turning from pink to red and Eddie can see Steve moving slowly, shifting his father's attention to him.

"That's me, Richard. Useless Steve. Flunked out of college and he bakes cookies like some kind of fairy. You sure you want to parade your failure of a son in front of the hoi polloi?"

Eddie hears Diana's gasp from where he's standing. "Steve, what are you talking about? Richard what's going on?"

Richard turns his glare on her and Eddie feels himself moving forward almost against his own will. He's not sure what he'll do when he gets there but he's never been the bystander type.

Steve just laughs. Bright and angry. "I'm not sure what my father told you about our relationship but we don't have one."

"No," she says. "Your father-- he told me-- "

When Eddie met her a few weeks ago he had seen a confident, charming woman that knew exactly what she wanted and was excited to be married. Now she looks confused, maybe even scared.

Eddie has gotten closer to this whole altercation than he wanted to be but since he is there and it looks like Steve and Richard are busy trying to glare holes in each other Eddie steps up to Diana and lightly grasps her elbow.

She startles and turns to face him. Her eyes are wide, wet and staring.

"Mr. Munson," she asks, softly.

Eddie tries to smile. "Mr. Munson is my uncle, ma'am. It's Eddie. Let's get you out of here, okay? Back inside."

Eddie is able to gently guide her a few steps away. He hates turning his back on the other two men but he needs to get Diana out of reach for whatever is about to happen.

"I dont understand," the bride mutters. "Steve used to be such a sweet boy. Mr. Harrin-- Richard. Oh, I'm so silly. Richard. He said-- this is so embarassing."

Her voice is pitched and tight and if she isn't crying yet she would be soon. Eddie resolves to get her inside and into the arms of literally any friendly face.

"Hey," Eddie says. "Let's just--" he scrambles for a name. Anna? Annie? "Amy, right? Your maid of honor? Let's get you to her, okay. You can sit down."

Diana nods.

Behind him he can hear Richard and Steve hissing noxious words back and forth. There is no shouting but the air is heavy and hot with anger. Even though he was outside Eddie feels like he can't breathe.

Eddie gets Diana to the door, hadn't realized how close they really were, maybe 30 feet if that. It's open, anxious faces framed in weathered oak. He hands Diana off to her Maid of Honor who quickly sweeps the woman deeper into the hall and then he nods to Patricia Abernathy, the event space manager.

"Think we're gonna have a cancellation," he says, nodding towards the departing woman.

She rolls her eyes. "Can't say I'm surprised. I had a bad feeling about this one."

Eddie scoffs. "You have a bad feeling about all of them."

He turns to face where the two men are still in a stand off in front of the van. "You're not wrong though, I think. At least I hope they cancel."

Patricia snorts. "We got the deposits locked down and the contract is airtight so if they cancel we still get fifty percent of the remaining fee. I'll take that for the rest of the day off."

"You got a date, Patty? And it's not me? You're breaking my heart."

"Ha," she says flatly. "That pretty boy is more your type and from the way he's talking you're in with a chance. Now you keep an eye on those two. Security is on their way, we'll see if they can get here before these guys start really butting heads."

Eddie nods. It isn't the first time he had been called on to help manage fractious families.

He turns back in time to see Richard take a swing at Steve. The younger guy steps back out of the way and Eddie can hear his mocking laugh as far away as the door.

He moves closer to the two of them. Eddie isn't going to get in the middle of the fight but maybe if he reminds them there are other people around that might be enough to calm them down.

He watches Richard lunge forward and swing again. This time Steve can't move away fast enough and the blow glances off of his cheek.

"Hey," Eddie calls, now jogging towards them. "Hey, knock it off! You wanna fight take it somewhere else!"

Steve turns to face Eddie, opening his mouth as if he was going to say something but all that comes out is a low grunt as Richard hits him in the shoulder and shoves him to the ground.

Eddie throws himself forward, pushing Richard away. "What do you think you're doing," he shouts in the man's face but Richard doesn't seem to hear, pressing back against Eddie.

"You little bastard," Richard shouts at his son. "You're worthless! I don't know why I bothered."

"Go to hell," Steve replies.

That seems to make Richard even angrier which Eddie hadn't thought was possible. He isn't sure he will be able to hold him off much longer.

"Hey, what's going on here," a low even voice calls. It is the venue security guard, his partner just behind him with a hand on his radio.

Eddie feels himself relax and then stumbles back as Richard pushes him aside to fall on his son again.

Eddie turns to see both guards trying to pull the older man away as he continues to hit his son, screaming obscenities.

Not sure how to help, Eddie stands by. When he sees an opening he lunges forward and takes hold of Steve's shoulders, pulling him back and away.

The younger man fights against him at first, eyes closed and arms up in front of his face. Eddie figures he probably didn't know whose hands are on him.

"Hey. Hey. It's me, Eddie. Shit. I work here. You're safe, security has your dad. You're safe."

Eddie steps back, loosening his grip on Steve but still keeping one hand on his shoulder, trying to sooth him.

A few feet away Richard is still twisting, trying to get free and attack his son again, but Eddie can see the guards have a good hold on him and it doesn't look like they will be letting go any time soon.

As Steve calms down Eddie lets go of his shoulder, instead crouching next to him. "You doing okay? I saw you had you hands up but he got a few hits in."

Steve lowers his arms and sits upright. He twists his neck back and forth and shifts his shoulders before opening his eyes and looking up at Eddie. "I'm okay. I'm fine. God, it's a soap opera isn't it? Fuck."

Eddie lets himself drop into a seat next to the other man. They both watch in silence as the guards march Steve's father around the corner to the front of the event hall.

"You know the bride? Diana," the guy asks. "She was my babysitter. When I was eleven."

"Oof," Eddie says. "So she was--"

"Seventeen then, and now it's been twenty years for her and about three wives for him."

"Scandalous," Eddie murmurs. He sees Steve smile and feels relieved. "What will people say. The 'hoi polloi' I believe you called them?"

Steve snorts. "A crowd of empty suits that exist solely to tell my dad how respected he is. Will he get arrested?"

"Maybe," Eddie says. "I think that might be up to you. It's assault at least."

"Ugh," Steve says, rubbing his face. "That's all I need. I'm trying to get him out of my life."

"Well," Eddie says. "I can attest that jail is very good at keeping deadbeat dads out of your life."

Steve starts laughing and then winces, wrapping an arm around his stomach.

"Shit, you are hurt," Eddie says, scrambling to his feet. "Do you need an ambulance? Patty probably called 911 by now."

Steve waves him off. "I'm fine. This is not my first fight and my old man hits-- well, I was gonna say 'like a girl' but then my best friend would kick my ass and I'm way more scared of her," Steve says, laughing softly.

He looks up at Eddie and holds out his free hand. "You gonna help me up? Or is chivalry dead?"

"Chivalry," Eddie repeats. "You a damsel in distress?"

"I might as well be," Steve says. "Now come on."

Eddie laughs and reaches down, gently guiding Steve back to his feet. He feels the man's weight leaning on him for a few seconds and despite the circumstances Eddie has to admit Steve feels good in his arms.

Once he is steady Steve steps back and Eddie lets him go.

Steve moves to the van and leans up against the metal surface. Eddie walks over to join him.

"So," Steve says. "What next?"

Eddie shakes his head. "I honestly don't know. The wedding is canceled, for sure. For today at least."

"Just for today? You think she'll marry him still?"

Eddie shrugs. "I have no idea. I wouldn't but then I wouldn't have said yes in the first place."

Steve leans back, tapping his head against the van a few times before he turns back to Eddie. "You know the worst part? This was my last delivery. Now, I have to deal with this stupid cake. Three tiers of lemon and raspberry." He laughs. "Do you think a homeless shelter will take a wedding cake?"

Eddie grins. "I don't see why not. At least something good will come out of today."

Steve looks up towards the hall. "I feel like I should say something-- to Diana, I mean. She was always really nice to me, she deserved better than this."

"I have found that good or bad people rarely get what they deserve. You don't really owe her anything but I can't fault the impulse." Turning towards the hall, Eddie gestures for Steve to follow him. "Just-- just don't apologize for him? Okay?"

Steve walks in silence for a few steps before he coughs roughly. His voice is thick and choked and he coughs again. "I, uh, I stopped apologizing for him a long time ago. His faults are his own. I just wish I didn't get dragged into it."

Eddie laughs. "I know that song."

"Yeah," Steve asks.

Eddie nods. They are at the door and he pulls it open for the other man, gesturing him in with a bow.

Steve stops in the doorway as Eddie stands up again. He is framed by the light inside and the scent of hothouse roses comes drifting out into the open air. Eddie can picture him suddenly in that moment standing at a balcony limned by moonlight.

"Hey Sunshine," Eddie says softly. "Buy me a drink and we can trade stories?"

Steve smiles. "Yeah," he says, with a small laugh. "Sure, why not." He holds up his hands, still dirty and scraped from the asphalt. "Help me get cleaned up and let me say something to Diana. Then we can talk."

Eddie nods, reaches out, and places his hands gently over Steve's. "Sounds good to me."

#fanfiction #fanfic #littlechivalry #my writing #steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #meet ugly #baker steve #wedding singer eddie

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beanarie · 23 days ago

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@bucktommywhumpweek days 2-3 ptsd, abandonment issues, following from day 1 here

Buck dreams of Bobby, because even when it's not about Bobby, it is, and that is why he's been spending as little time in bed as possible. Eventually, he opens his eyes, and recoils at the sound of an artificial shutter.

"Sorry!" he hears. "Maddie ordered me to text her when you woke up and this seemed like the most efficient way to give her the news."

Buck drags his eyes over to the visitor's chair, and the person he still expects to be sitting there vanishes. In his place is-

"Josh? What-"

"Hey, Buck," Josh says with a regretful smile. "Bobby's running a temperature, so Maddie asked me to come. How are you feeling?"

Buck should be used to it by now. That's his nephew; he hears his name all the time. But it makes him flinch all the same. He looks down at the bright white cast on his leg. This doesn't track. He was just expecting a boot. "Did I get admitted, for a fracture in my foot?"

"Yeah." Josh gives a sympathetic frown. "I was told you helped with an unruly patient and things got hairy when they went critical. You were unconscious for a while."

"Tommy?" Buck says, breathless.

"Do you, uh." Josh wiggles his phone. "Want me to call him? I don't have his number, but I could get it from Chimney. Or-"

"He's here," Buck says.

"Oh! That's funny. I didn't see him on my way in. So he what, grabbed something at the Panera downstairs? He's been gone a wh-"

"No, he's. He's-" Buck's throat is sealing shut. Tommy stopped breathing. There's a chance that as staff loaded Buck onto another gurney, a few feet away someone else was calling the time of death.

"Wait. Oh. Buck? Are you s..." His voice trails off. "Tommy was the other patient." Josh's eyes double in size. "Okay." He pats Buck's arm. "Listen. I'll see what I can find out."

"Th-Thanks."

Halfway to the door, Josh stops and turns his head. "What was his last name again?"

"Kinard."

He waves behind him. "Right. Got it."

Buck closes his eyes, opens them again, and Josh is back.

"So the news isn't great," he says, then he raises his hand. "Buck. He's alive. Sorry, I should've led with that. He was in respiratory arrest, but they reinflated his lung and put in a chest tube. He's now in the ICU."

"Y-You're not a family member. How did you-"

Josh scoffs. "Are you kidding? I'm the guy responsible for making sure they don't get slammed. Half the people in this building owe me a favor. The other half do, too, but I let them live in ignorance."

Buck scrambles for the control to his bed and raises it to a sitting position. "Can you help me get up to see him?"

Josh sits, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Can we talk about you for a second?"

Buck stops picking at the tape securing his IV. "W-What?"

"They told me you got a nice break in your lower tibia to go with the one in your metatarsal, so you passed out from the pain."

"Okay," Buck mutters, distantly registering that his time on the injured list just doubled. That's a problem for another day.

"You stayed out because you are exhausted and dehydrated. There are better ways to ask this, but I'll just go with a simple 'what happened'?"

Buck rubs at his forehead.

"Buck?"

"Bad dreams. I keep waking- waking up and I- I- I- have to get outta bed because if I don't, I go right back into it. So I've been working out a- a- lot, m-mostly in the middle of the night."

Josh looks like Buck just told him his puppy got cancer.

"It helps," Buck insists. "Sometimes I tire myself out enough that I go back to- back to sleep and don't dream. What else am I gonna do? It was working."

It's not like he could call anyone. Maddie and Chim have their hands full with the baby. Hen needs her rest almost as much as they do. He never bothered her if he could help it, anyway. And Eddie, Buck is trying not to ask Eddie for things. Partly to see if Eddie even notices, which he knows, he knows is not healthy. But he can't help it. Withdrawing with a smile seems to be the best of both worlds. No one has yelled at him in weeks.

Josh takes a breath, then closes his mouth and seems to rethink. "How bad have the headaches been?"

"Manageable," Buck mumbles. "I've been drinking a lot of triple-shot lattes."

"Putting your caffeine dependency on steroids is always a great way to deal with your head hurting," Josh says dryly.

Buck can't begin to address that right now. He was managing, as he said. "Am I on a hold, or c-can I go?"

Josh gives him that cancer-puppy look again. "No, Buck, you're not on a hold. I'm just concerned about you."

Which means Maddie will be concerned. Buck has no time for that. "Tommy almost died. Help me get to him, okay?"

#bucktommy #tevan fic #bucktommywhumpweek #my writing #things by beanarie

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that-student-that-has-homework · 6 months ago

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the temptation to write the fic that's been floating in my mind for a while...I think as early as before the war.

"You're overwhelmed."

and it's either Al-Haitham or Jing Yuan there to gently guide you through the whole mess.

Jing Yuan would probably take a quick scan of everything, predict your to do list based off of it, then determine the best course of action for your health. In like the span of 1 or 2 minutes at most.

Jing Yuan's the guy that would sit on the floor with you, take your hands in his, and when that causes the dam to finally burst (which is a problem because you're too busy to cry right now) would in a soothing tone, walk you through the order of what needs to happen. He'll help you figure out your priorities all while rubbing soothing circles into your skin, and will take on the parts of your load that he can.

You need food? He'll take care of it. Things are a mess? He'll get things picked up enough that its not stressful anymore. You don't have any more clean clothes? He's got that covered too.

When it comes to delegation the man knows what's up. He's got a solid war plan, and with Yanqing's assistance he's managed to complete at least half of the tasks that he can take off your hands, and the rest are to be completed likely within the next hour or few hours.

Expect a warm meal and soothing tea after you get showered, because that was the first thing he had you do. See you'd been busy enough to neglect your hygiene enough to stress you out too. So when you're feeling notably refreshed after your shower, and your meal, and seeing as the domestic tasks have been taken care of while you took care of your hygiene, your stress levels, are much lower.

He absolutely will let you bend his ear over all that's stressing you out, especially if you're working on something with a deadline and you're stuck. Will be someone you can bounce ideas off of.

When things finally calm down enough that you have the time to cry, he will hold you as you sob it all out. As awful as the situation is, he's relieved that you're getting it out of your system via tears. Of course if you start apologizing for needing help, he'll hug you tighter and set you straight. He is honored to be someone that you can be vulnerable with and is genuinely delighted to be able to support you...he is your husband.

____________________

Al-Haitham, similarly, takes you and your surroundings in:

the research papers strewn around you

the multitude of half-drunk cups: tea, water, juice, herbal tea

the crumbs of food that likely wasn't enough to sustain you

the piles of papers and books with all sorts of random objects in them to mark the pages for your research

the sink

your laundry basket

your dull hair, and disheveled pyjamas/housewear

your exhausted expression

It doesn't take him more than 2 minutes as well to figure out the ideal course of action. He also decides that you starting with a shower would be for the best.

He has to debate you to get you up, choosing not to touch you in your overwhelmed state. Because you don't have time to shower, you have a deadline. You don't have time for all these things. However using logic and reason, he somehow managed to get your to comply despite your very compromised state.

Al-Haitham as well, despite not liking to take on too much work, will, for your sake, delegate all tasks that don't require your specific attention to himself and get through them efficiently. He's systematic about it: first he ensures you have food to eat, after which he ensures that your living space is relaxing and comfortable by cleaning and organizing things according to your own preferences (yes he remembers). Your laundry is also taken care of alongside his. The cups, the dishes in the sink and those distributed throughout the house as well will be collected and washed.

Depending on how long your shower is he'll have everything done or at the very least the food and initial sweep of the area. He makes sure to have food with you, so you feel less alone. He will do those dishes too.

You're not having any coffee. Any tea he gives you is herbal. Bibi* used to say chamomile was good for sleep, maybe it'll help you relax. (Bibi is what Iraqis call their grandmothers, and given he's named after an Iraqi physicist).

With Al-Haitham he can also assist with your research and your paper, so he does help with providing sources and information for your paper. In fact you can rant to him and like the scribe he is, he'll take notes, and provide advice.

Will hug you if you ask. Will be your body double to help you get through things. He might even sacrifice some sleep to be by your side for a little longer if you're working late, but not too long, he'll eventually turn in, and encourage you to turn in too.

Tumblr MasterList Here | Ao3 here

Please feel free to leave me a comment or feedback. I may actually turn this into a fic if I get the time!

#alhaitham #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin x y/n #genshin imagines #genshin impact fanfics #hsr jing yuan x you #hsr jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x reader #hsr x you #hsr x reader

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hannahbarberra162 · 1 month ago

Note

I enjoy you weekly Possessions. It's like a little surprise mixed in with all the other goodies

Thank you!!! I can't really stop the Possessions - they come to me as smutty visions that I have to write to exorcise. I promise I'm working on all the other stuff, I'm about halfway done writing the next Under the Microscope and finishing that Law thing. But......the visions.......they call to me........

Like today I read the latest post by @yanderenightmare and the therapist one reminded me a lot of bad Marco. Forgive me for using some of the same phraseology but…

Everything under the cut since its NON CON, DEAD DOVE

Thank you @kitsunechan707 for hyping me <3

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

Pro Re Nata

TW: DEAD DOVE, NON CON, BAD MARCO!

WC: ~1k

Marco’s thumb hooked in your cheek to keep you from biting down as his thick cock bruised the back of your throat. Not that you’d bite anyway, not with the latent power pulsing through the man who has you on your knees, the teal fire whipping around him as if blown by a supernatural wind. He continued pistoning further and faster, not minding your fingers fluttering and nails scratching against his muscular thighs, trying to communicate your desperate message. At first you tried to get him to stop, to make him let you go but now you were trying to show your need for air, for him to give you just a moment’s break before he continued to do what he wanted with you.

You gagged as his toned stomach was brushing your nose, Marco’s hand gripping your hair at the roots to prevent you moving away from him. He thrust himself all the way down your throat - your tears, snot, drool and desperate moans doing nothing to dissuade him from facefucking you like you were his personal fleshlight. Your jaw ached from his size and stamina - and Marco wasn't in a hurry. When he finally came, you did your best not to swallow his load, to let it drool out of your mouth like the rest of your spit. Marco tutted as he pulled himself out, half hard again already to your dismay.

"Ah, ah. Finish your medicine yoi," he cooed as his grip changed. He took out his thumb as his large hand gripped your jaw, clamping it shut against and pressing against your lips. His second hand rubbed column of your throat to encourage you to swallow, like you were a recalcitrant pet. He continued, his long slim fingers stroking your throat as his other hand bruised your jaw. You gulped down his warm load as best you could, the substance felt like it was stuck to every inch of your esophagus. Marco released his hand from over your mouth but not your throat, running his thumb over your lips. “Every drop,” he said through half lidded eyes, pushing his thumb into your mouth. You dutifully sucked the come off his thumb even as your stomach roiled and threatened to heave.

“Good girl. That’s enough for now yoi,” he husked, hauling you to your feet. You were only able to see in the dark storeroom by the light of his phoenix fire, the light casting his shadow longer against the wooden walls. He backed you up against a wall, pinning your hands above your head with only one hand as he leaned down to your eye level. You jerked your head away, not wanting to look at the Commander who’d used you so roughly that you’d be hurting for days to come. Marco smirked and leaned down further, capturing your lips with his own. You choked out a cry as he bit your lower lip hard enough that you tasted the coppery tang of your own blood. Marco shoved his second hand down the front of your shorts and into your panties, his long middle finger parting your slit unerringly. Running his finger along your pussy lips, you pleaded with the Commander, hoping to find a shred of mercy in him.

“N-no, please, I don’t-” you pleaded, twisting in his hold as you tried to get away from his wicked fingers. You knew what he’d find and you didn’t want him to take it as an invitation or to mean that you’d enjoyed your time alone with him.

“So wet yoi. I knew you wanted this too but you can continue to play your little games. Always teasing me with these skimpy clothes, showing your body to the crew. I know what medicine whores like you need and I’m happy to give it to you yoi,” Marco purred into your ear. You redoubled your efforts to get away but all it earned you was his knee shoved in between your thighs to increase the friction.

“I already know your concern - you think I’m a bad lover because I was selfish for our first time together. I apologize, it’s unlike me yoi. I’ll have plenty of time to change your mind, you’ll see. You’ll be in my office in six hours, waiting for me. And if you aren’t, I’ll find you and fuck you wherever you are. And you don’t want our brothers to see what a needy slut you are, do you? How you cry and whine when you suck cock but are dripping wet, your sloppy hole clenching on nothing, waiting for someone to fill you up with their come. You don’t want them to think they need a taste, do you?” he asked, his voice full of mock concern. You shook your head dumbly as you swallowed, the taste of his cum still on your tongue.

“M-marco, please, I don’t want - please not again…I’ll - I’ll tell someone,” you whispered, indignation creeping into your tone. The grip on your wrists tightened to bruising as Marco’s smile widened.

“You’ll tell someone what? You’re not hurt, there’s no evidence that anything happened. You’re a new nobody recruit on a Yonko ship and I’m the beloved First Division Commander. Who do you think they’re going to believe? You or me?” With that, Marco pressed his forehead against your own, his fire leaping from his body to your own. The teal flames danced like little devils along your skin as all the aches, bruises, cuts and pains that he’d caused were gone, his power healing you instantly. He was right - there was no evidence that anything had happened - nothing anyone would believe anyway.

“Good girls take their medicine several times a day, and I’m a very meticulous doctor.”

#tw non con #reader x marco #tw noncon #dead dove do not eat #doves are dead #Bad Marco!#marco one piece #marco the phoenix

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a-distantdreamer · 3 months ago

Text

Behind Closed Doors • L.N.

summary: they can’t hide behind closed doors forever but they’ll be damned if they don’t try

pairing: lando norris x fewtrell!oc

warnings: a whole load of smut, 18+ only

see end of post for authors notes.

Fuck.

It wasn’t the fact that I’d fallen asleep in his arms that was the problem.

It was the fact the sun was now up.

Under the cover of darkness, it was much easier to sneak back to my room. It was much easier to avoid the judgemental comments from friends. They just wouldn’t understand.

I was so desperately in love with my brother’s best friend.

The sun was streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the gauzy curtains doing little to stop it. A golden streak was falling across Lando’s face, highlighting the bronze of his skin, and the little mole on his cheek that I loved to kiss. His arm was heavy across my tummy where it was stretched out, and half his face was nestled into my hair.

God I loved watching him sleep. He looked so sweet, and without the sarcasm dripping from his lips and teasing glances I could almost fool myself into thinking he was innocent in some way.

That was the furthest from the truth. He was a beautiful dichotomy of innocence and sin; of confidence and crippling self-doubt. The more I got to know him, the more the layers of Lando became apparent and it only fuelled my affection for him.

I leant forward a little to press a feather soft kiss to his bicep, my lips lingering on his skin. He groaned softly and his lashes fluttered as I landed a second one and then a third.

“Don’t go,” he murmured, his grip tightening ever so slightly. He was still in the haze of sleep and definitely was not aware of the time.

“It’s morning,” I whispered, reaching across to push his unruly curls from his forehead, “unless you want my brother to find me in your bed I have to go.”

A pair of glimmering green-blue eyes were suddenly staring back at me, piercing and as gorgeous as ever. In the golden sun they seemed to shine even brighter.

“Would it be so bad?” He grumbled, fingers tugging at my bare waist and smoothing over the skin of my ass.

For a moment I contemplated it. Those eyes could make me believe almost anything.

Then I shook my head.

“He’d kill us both, and you know it.”

Lando nodded. He did know it. And that’s why we’d agreed to keep it a secret from Max for as long as possible. At the beginning, it was an act of convenience. I travelled alongside Lando as his photographer, and I was always there. I’d come out of a four year relationship, and truthfully just needed someone to warm my bed. Lando was equally as needy in the beginning.

Then things developed, as they often do. Before we knew it, we were almost a year deep, and the longer we kept it a secret, the harder we knew it would be to break it to Max and the rest of our friends that we’d been together for almost a whole year without them knowing. Things had moved beyond just sleeping together. He became my rock, and I was his. We were what each other needed.

“I know he would,” he whispered, leaning forward until his forehead bumped mine, “I just wish things were different sometimes.”

“Me too.”

Day to day, it wasn’t so hard. Max and Pietra only came to a few races a year and our relationship could be hidden under the guise of travelling with Lando for work. They lived in London, and myself and Lando were in Monaco.

Then we’d all arranged to spend summer break together at a villa in Ibiza, and Lando and I knew it would be our biggest challenge yet. Especially since we knew what was coming.

“Have you seen the ring?” I queried, letting Lando’s hands wander across my lower back as he nuzzled his nose against mine.

I felt him nod, “yeah. It’s fucking enormous.”

I rolled my eyes at his comment, “is it pretty?”

“Guys don’t really see rings that way, baby.” Lando replied, “it’s a nice ring though. Took him hours to choose. I got bored.”

He paused for a moment, a boyish smile crossing his face as he studied mine.

I huffed out an uncomfortable laugh, “what? Why are you staring?”

“Would you like that?” Lando murmured, his fingertips tracing swirling patterns across my skin, “a big shiny diamond on your finger?”

I hummed, my mouth going a little dry at the prospect, but I tried to play it cool, “mmm, one day I would.”

Lando nodded, his lips grazing across mine, “noted.”

I met his lips fully in a sultry kiss, our tongues meeting shortly after as his hands wandered further, hitching a leg up and over his waist, opening me up to him again.

He grunted as I let out a pitiful whimper, shaking my head. The rational part of my brain was well aware of the time, and the proximity of Max and Pietra’s room.

“I have to go,” I shuddered, as I felt him pressing eagerly against my thigh, millimetres from where I needed him most. I always needed him.

Lando shook his head, “don’t.”

“Later,” I whimpered, managing to wiggle away from him just enough to resist temptation. He groaned, rolling away from me as I got off the bed. I couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of him, as naked as the day he was born, star-fished across the rumpled white sheets. By some miracle, my will power was just strong enough to not jump back on top of him.

I quickly pulled my underwear and bra back on from the night before, when Lando and I had tumbled into his suite after everyone else had gone to bed. My denim shorts were next, but my corset top was nowhere to be found.

“Shit,” I hissed, frantically turning on the spot, phone in hand. It was 5am, and Pietra and I were booked in for sunrise yoga at 6am.

I still had to shower and dress for the morning before then. I spotted Lando’s white button up draped over the chair and grabbed it, flinging it over my bra and shorts.

Lando was already half asleep again in the middle of the bed and I carefully tucked the sheets round his waist to give him some modesty in case my brother were to barge in unannounced. Lando reached for me sleepily, gripped my forearm and managed to tug me back across the mattress to him on my hands and knees.

“Love you, Nora,” he murmured, reaching up to cup my cheek in his large hand.

I smiled softly and tilted my head, smoothing his wild curls, “love you more. I’ll see you at breakfast. If you find my top from last night, just hide it in your case and I’ll get it later.”

Lando nodded, his eyes drifting shut just before I leant down to press a last kiss to his lips. I was sure he was asleep by the time I got to the door of his suite, taking one last glance back at him.

God, it was getting hard to leave him.

Max was planning to propose on Friday evening. He’d booked a sunset boat trip across the bay using a contact of Lando’s. In the meantime, Lando and I would be tasked with setting the villa up with engagement decorations, which were stashed underneath Lando’s bed.

On Thursday, we’d collectively decided to have a more relaxed day, after spending the earlier part of our week hopping between clubs and bars across the island. We’d drank far more than we should have, but it had been a blast. We were all ready to unwind a little.

The villa had its own pool and a stunning terrace overlooking the ocean which we’d barely made use of. Pietra and I planned to use it as an opportunity to perfect our tans in the tiniest bikinis we owned. Lando called in a catering team for the day to ensure we were taken care of, and a few more of his friends were due to join us in the evening for dinner.

“What can I get you ladies to drink?” Max asked, hopping up from his sun lounger beside Pietra’s.

“Lemonade please, honey,” P requested, reaching out to link hands with Max.

She pulled him in close by his hand, until he was close enough for her to kiss playfully. They were sickeningly cute but it was nice to see my brother so happy.

Lando rolled his eyes after a few moments and stood from his seat beside mine, adjusting his bright orange swim shorts, “we’ll never get a drink waiting for you lovebirds. What do you want Nora?”

His shorts were distractingly short, showing off the toned and bronzed muscles of his thighs. He caught me staring and gave me a subtle smirk while my brother and P weren’t looking.

I laughed as Max managed to let go of Pietra, flipping off Lando, “just the same as P, please.”

I watched the two of them walk away from us as Pietra turned her attention back to her phone. I looked just long enough to see Lando glance back over his shoulder at me, another smirk playing on his lips as he did. To avoid blushing, I looked back at Pietra, golden and glowing and completely unaware that the next night was going to be one of the best of her life.

“This has been the best trip,” she sighed, leaning back on the lounger and sliding her sunglasses back over her eyes.

I nodded, “it has. It’s been so nice to spend time all together.”

P glanced over at me, “then it’ll be back to normality. Back to rainy old London and you and Lan will be back in Monaco. Lucky things. How’s your apartment search going?”

I’d been living with Lando for the last two months, now my lease at my last apartment was up. I was still under the pretense of searching for a new apartment and temporarily staying with Lando in the meantime. The reality was that we were planning on it being more permanent.

“The search continues when I get back,” I huffed, feigning frustration.

Pietra gave me a soft smile, “you’ll work it out. Or you could just stay with Lan.”

I glanced at her, unable to read her expression properly due to her sunglasses. She was still smiling.

“He doesn’t want me hanging around, P,” I laughed awkwardly, “as soon as I find somewhere I’ll be out of his hair.”

Pietra let out a little hum, laying her head back down on the lounger, “I don’t think he’s as bothered by it as you think.”

As soon as Max and Pietra left the villa, the race was on. Lando hoped the decoration wouldn’t take long so we could spend some much needed time alone together.

His lingering touches on my waist as he hoisted me up to hang the banner and his glances whenever I leant over to sprinkle more rose petals across the tables gave away his intentions.

As soon as I was finished, my panties were round my ankles, head thrown back against the wall in the hallway as Lando buried his face between my legs. He used a finger to unhook my underwear from around my leg, tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans. I struggled against him pointlessly, until his firm hand around my ankle lifted my leg to open me up to him.

“Ah-ah. Don’t pretend you don’t want it baby. Like you don’t want my mouth on you like this,” he grumbled, two fingers spreading my folds open right before his eyes. He set my foot on his strong shoulder for support.

I whimpered, biting my bottom lip as a thin sheen of sweat covered my torso. My nipples peaked against my cropped tee, as I fought to hold my flowy skirt up and out of his way in one hand despite my fingers shaking.

His breath ghosted across my dampening flesh, sending a shiver through me, “I haven’t even touched you yet…you’re already shaking.”

My eyes rolled into my head as he pursed his lips and blew a stream of cool air across my clit, my hips bucking involuntarily as his persistent fingers held me open to him.

“Lando,” I warned as the tip of his pointer finger ghosted over my most sensitive point.

He smirked up at me with his teeth shining, looking impish and oh-so-handsome. I reached down and pulled his stupid backwards Quadrant cap from his head.

For a moment I considered frisbeeing it down the hallway, but instead I brought it to my own head, allowing access to his soft curls, a little damp with sweat. I twisted the cap on top of my own hair, turning it backwards just like he had, and the sight of it seemed to trigger him.

“Oh baby.” He groaned, and with one swift movement, his mouth was on me, and my body was in flames. I moaned out loud, comforted that there was nobody there to hear me. This was just for us and we didn’t have to hide.

His mouth worked me perfectly, alternating between a delicious firm suction around my clit that had me trembling and kitten licks so soft that it made me want to scream at him.

“More, more,” I chanted, fingers weaving into his crushed curls as my hips bucked towards his face. He pulled back a little to peer up at me, those shiny aquamarine eyes big and boyish.

“How much more?” He murmured, “more licking? More sucking? Hmmm? I don’t know how much more you can take.”

“Please. Sucking. Please,” I begged, my chest heaving as my hand practically crushed the linen fabric of my skirt between the fingers on my left hand. I shoved it behind my own back, trapping my skirt beneath my lower back and bottom so both hands were free.

I was desperate for him, my whole body tingling.

“Please just make me cum,” I whined, and that was all Lando needed to hear.

His gaze alone could have sent me spiralling in that moment as he maintained it the whole time, his eyes locked on mine, gauging my expression as his lips and tongue worked in tandem. Somehow I could feel them both simultaneously, creating swirling patterns and pressure I could only dream of.

“Feels…so…fucking…good…” I sobbed, feeling myself begin to drip down my own thighs, “please.”

He didn’t relent for a moment and after a minute or so the tightening coil snapped, sending me spinning. My head swam, my body convulsing in on itself towards my core. I gripped the sides of Lando’s head tightly, hunched over him as I quaked. His tongue continued to lap across me as I shook, tasting my release.

“Fucking hell baby,” he whispered as the shocks continued to have me shaking, his hands coming to rest on my thighs and rubbing softly as the tension in my muscles subsided.

I sobbed and panted, shaking my head as my legs gave way. He eased me gently onto my bottom on the marble floor, his eyes full of concern.

“Too much?” He whispered, his lips resting against my forehead as he brought me to straddle his lap. I buried my face into the crook of his neck, a little embarrassed by how hard he’d made me fall apart just with his mouth.

“Never,” I whispered, as his thumb wiped tears from my cheek, “I just need a minute.”

He nodded, reaching into his back pocket to check his phone. Max had told us he’d send a message once the proposal was complete and when they were heading back to the villa so we could bring out the champagne and prepare for the celebrations.

“Still nothing.”

He held me close, his hands smoothing over my back and thighs as I nestled into his lap. My body softened, and I focused on pressing feather light kisses to his neck and ear, particularly the little point at the top of his ear that made him shiver.

We knew each other too well.

The message came an hour later, when the two of us emerged from the shower. Pietra was beaming in the photograph, holding her hand in front of my brother, who was pressing a kiss to his new fiancée’s cheek.

I couldn’t help but shed a tear of excitement for them both. It was such a big step, and undeniably joyous. My big brother was getting married.

“We better get dressed before they get back,” Lando whispered, pressed against my back with his lips against my neck.

I nodded and peeled myself away from him, wandering over to the closet in my room. He dropped his towel, and my mouth almost watered at the sight of him in the mirror. His body was unbelievable. Toned and broad shoulders sculpted to perfection, a gorgeous belly rippling with taut muscles leading to a narrow waist and hips. He was perfect, and belonged to me, even if nobody else knew it.

Lando perched on the bed to put on his boxer briefs and I took my opportunity to cross the room to him before he had the chance. He glanced up at me, and I reached out to run my fingers through his damp curls. He’d been growing them lately, perfecting the routine to keep them looking gorgeous, which I appreciated.

“Hi,” he laughed, leaning forward to press a kiss to my tummy through my towel.

I didn’t say anything, simply dropping to my knees in front of him. Lando’s mouth fell open, and his hand dropped onto the mattress beside him, his fingers still clutching his underwear.

“Baby…” he gasped, his voice almost warning as I trailed my fingers along the crease between his thigh and pelvis. I watched closely as his cock twitched in response to each pass of my nails against his skin.

“They’ll be back soon,” he choked out, fingers tipping my chin up to avert my gaze back to his face.

I smirked softly, “we better be quick then, huh?”

He propped himself up on his hands and I saw his throat bob as he gulped. He opened his mouth as if to reply, but before he could I took hold of him, giving him a gentle squeeze between my fingers.

“You want me to use my hands or my mouth?” I whispered, tilting my head as I looked at him in my hand. My fingers barely reached around his thickness, and I could already feel him hardening under my touch.

“Fuck…” he groaned, bringing his hand up to cup my cheek, “whatever you want, baby.”

I smirked and lowered my mouth to him, darting my tongue out for a teasing lick to his shaft. I heard his breath hitch and continued a path upwards. When I reached his head I lifted my gaze, his green eyes piercing into mine as he watched me finally open my mouth to take him in.

The moan that came out of him was unlike anything I’d heard from him before - deep and lustful. I felt his fingers weave into my hair as I focused on the sensation of him in my mouth. He smelled so good and tasted salty and fresh against my tongue. I rolled my tongue against the underside of him, occasionally creating suction to mix up the rhythm as his hands guided me back and forth.

“Holy fucking shit, Nora. God,” he gasped.

His hips rutted suddenly, and I pulled back a little before he could hit the back of my throat. It still made me gag a little, which only seemed to spur him on more.

“You love having my cock down your throat, don’t you?” He growled, “you love that your best friend and your brother could walk in on us any fucking second and see you on your knees for me.”

I whimpered at his words, reaching up with one hand to grip his cock at the base while the other crept down between my legs. I moaned softly at the sensation, and I saw Lando’s abs tense as the vibration hit him too. He glanced down to see my fingers working and smirked.

“Such a dirty girl,” He groaned.

I doubled down on my efforts, sucking harder and faster and moving my fingers at twice the speed. I could feel wetness on my thighs. The sounds of my mouth and fingers echoed over the room and Lando heard them too, mumbling about how wet I was.

Suddenly, he yanked my head away from him, cupping my face sweetly. The words that followed were a complete contrast to how gently he held my face.

“You’re going to cum on your fingers, then I’m going to fuck you until you cum again,” he murmured, his face so close to mine I could feel his breath against my cheek.

My fingers stilled for a moment, my flushed chest heaving as he yanked the towel away from my body, leaving me bare for him.

“Do it,” he groaned, “rub yourself for me. Show me how you like it.”

I whimpered at his words as he continued to gently grip my face, his fingers digging into my cheeks ever so slightly. I bucked my hips against my own fingers as I rubbed frantic circles against my clit, desperately chasing my own orgasm so he could finally be inside of me.

“Lan, please…please,” I gasped, frustrated at the sensation. It felt good, but my fingers were too small, too soft and not nimble enough. I couldn’t get the right angle that he could. I couldn’t get there without him.

“I can’t,” I sobbed, rocking against my own hand desperately. Usually I’d be humiliated by it all, but it was only serving to turn me on even more.

He laughed darkly, his eyes drifting down to my hand, “I’ve ruined it for you, haven’t I, honey? Can’t even make yourself cum anymore now you’ve been with me.”

I let out a cry of frustration, slowing the circling of my fingers to ease the slight burning that was creeping up on me now.

“I need your fingers, Lan, please,” I whimpered as he gently lifted me up to sit on his thigh sideways.

He hooked my right leg up and over his thigh, opening me up to him. My hand trembled where it rested against my abdomen, mere inches away from the sparse hair he refused to let me shave away completely.

“You want them?” He asked teasingly, running his fingers along my thigh. I shivered, watching goosebumps rise on my skin.

I whimpered, my arm looping around his shoulders to hold onto him, “please. I need them. Please, I’m so close.”

He pressed a kiss to my jaw, “we need to be quick, baby. Can you do that for me?”

I nodded earnestly, almost certain that I’d fall apart as soon as he touched me. And I was right. The second his fingers were on me I fell apart, crying out loudly and bucking my hips into his hand. It was all too easy for his fingers to slip inside, curling frantically against my spongy walls.

I could barely form words anymore, let alone sentences. All that would come out were whimpers and fragments of desperate pleas for him.

“That’s it,” he murmured, hearing the wetness between my legs intensify, his gaze fixed on me as my whole body buckled for him for the second time that night. I glanced down to see the evidence all over the wooden floor, my face flushing for a moment before I pulled Lando’s face to give him a bruising kiss.

My thighs were still trembling as I turned in his lap to face him, kneeling either side of his narrow hips. I cupped his face and ran my fingers through his unruly curls.

“You’ve made a mess,” he tutted, smirking devilishly.

I shook my head, nipping at his bottom lip, “it’s your fault. I wasn’t going to.”

“You were begging for it,” he murmured, taking hold of my hips to guide me down towards him. I shivered when he grazed my sensitive folds, warm and hard and heavy. I reached down and gently took hold of him in my palm, satisfied when I felt him throb lightly at my touch.

“I should tease you really,” I pondered, “but we really don’t have the time.”

Lando opened his mouth to respond but was cut short by me sinking down onto his length in one swift movement of my hips. I gasped at the slight burn. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea after all, but damn did it feel good.

“Shit,” he groaned, one hand squeezing my hip while the other slipped round to hold the small of my back, guiding my hips in a bruising rhythm.

I whimpered, burying my face into the crook of his neck, focusing solely on the sensation of him inside me. I knew he preferred it when I circled my hips, so that’s exactly what I did, creating torturing patterns that made him gasp.

His hips began moving in tandem with mine, “fuck, lemme see you. Lemme see those pretty eyes.”

I moaned as I lifted my head from where it rested against his shoulder, my gaze meeting his piercing green-blue eyes immediately.

“You gonna cum for me?” I all but purred, trailing my nails down the side of his neck and round the back of his head to gently scratch at his scalp.

I watched as his pupils dilated, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he battled for composure, “I-I’m not gonna last.”

His admission brought me ever closer to my own orgasm, causing me to clench around him which certainly didn’t help matters at all. Suddenly, he’d flipped us over, pinning me onto the mattress with his full weight. I scrambled round onto my hands and knees before dropping my shoulders as he sat back on his knees on the mattress. He was sweaty and dishevelled and oh-so-wrecked in the best way.

I glanced back at him over my shoulder, wiggling my hips in the hope of tempting him, “c’mon Lan…”

He smirked and reached forward, his palm tenderly stroking the soft skin of my ass, “fucking hell, Nora. You’re going to ruin me.”

I giggled, flipping my long hair over my shoulder to expose the length of my back to him, arching it in what I hoped was an attractive way.

Lando knelt behind me, knees bracketed by mine as he braced himself on my hip. Suddenly he was inside me again and his pace was relentless. I felt him curl over my back, his strong arm looping round my front to take hold of my breast in his large hand. He used the leverage to pull us both upright, my back flush against his chest and my body entirely at his mercy and trapped beneath his hold as he rutted into me.

I gasped, as that was all I could manage, my hands desperately clawing at his arm. I could feel him everywhere and it still didn’t seem enough. In contrast to the bruising pace of his hips against my ass, his lips peppered feather-light kisses down my shoulder.

“Fuck. I fucking love you. I love you,” he said reverently, beginning to aim his thrusts with greater precision, “I need to feel you again, baby. One more.”

I shook my head, leaning it back against his shoulder as my whole body was racked by his thrusts, “I can’t…”

“Yes. You. Can,” he grunted, words punctuated by carefully placed thrusts. He was searching for the spot, and boy did he find it.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I gasped, gripping his arm like a lifeline as I felt the pressure building in my abdomen. The hand that was on my hip snuck round to press above my pubic bone, forcing my g-spot further inward to make it easier for me to fall apart.

Words were impossible, and I could barely move, let alone say anything more as I came. I was merely an instrument, and Lando knew how to play my body perfectly. When I came, everything seemed to slow. I vaguely heard Lando groaning my name, and had awareness of his warmth filling me before he gently guided me to lay down on the bed.

He stayed curled against my back, trailing his fingers against my skin as I shivered and sobbed continuously.

Lando pressed a kiss to the back of my head, “shhhhh. Jesus Christ, honey. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

“I-I’ve never,” I whimpered, my whole body still quaking, “I’ve never cum so hard.”

He huffed out a laugh into my hair, his fingers creeping down to stroke between my legs. He stroked through my wetness and my hips bucked against the stinging sensation, my thighs clamping shut over his hand before he could do anymore.

I hissed and shook my head.

“No…no more,” I insisted, rolling onto my back and reaching up to cup his cheek, “seriously.”

He nodded and leant over to give me a soft kiss, “I love you.”

“I love you,” I whispered.

His next words surprised me.

“We need to tell them.”

I blinked at him, my thumb rubbing over the strong line of his jaw, grazing one of the little moles on his skin, “I know.”

“Not tonight, but before we go home.”

“I’m scared.”

“Me too, but it’ll be okay.”

authors notes

My first fic post in a long while and my first ever time posting smut like this or anything about Lando, so please please please let me know your thoughts.

This is so far beyond my comfort zone but I’m hoping that others enjoy it.

Thanks to my loves @vetteltea and @vroomvroommbtch for being my biggest supports and giving me the confidence to post this. 🤍

#lando norris #lando norris smut #lando norris fic #lando norris x oc #lando norris fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

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weskie · 1 year ago

Text

A New Dawn (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

descriptions of injuries, descriptions of violence, tentacle murder, tentacle affection, yeah that's a thing, shared shower, wesker lives au | Fic Directory

You found him by sheer luck.

That rock he’d crawled onto could’ve simply crumbled. The volatile lava could’ve risen higher and submerged him completely. Despite the odds being stacked so incredibly high against any hope of recovering Wesker, you managed to pull his legs from the impossibly hot liquid with the help of a small rescue team and loaded his charred body into a helicopter for what was arguably the worst moment of your life.

All you can do is stare at what he’s become– at the autonomous slithering of tentacles that, by some miracle, contained themselves to their host and did not spread to your shaking hands. His lower body is marred entirely with burns and blisters so severe that you’re unsure if taking him out of there was even humane. If, perhaps, letting him be swallowed by the earth would’ve been kinder than putting him through whatever is to come next.

Once he’s placed in a containment room, you call in every favor you’ve ever known him to be owed. But it’s all for nothing.

The first attempt to prick his skin with an IV catheter results in bloodshed. The entire team of medics stood stock still as the head doctor was impaled and dangled overhead by a mass of black, oozing tentacles emerging from Wesker’s body. It happened so fast that you only realized it once the blood hit the observation glass.

Such would be the result of any attempts to address his injuries. Not even a blanket was able to be laid over his bare form without retaliation. It was like the mass of tendrils had a mind of their own, geared only toward protecting their host– though it raises the question of why the initial recovery of his body hadn’t produced the same response. Regardless, you wager they’re the only reason that Wesker is still alive.

For that, you’re thankful.

You talk to him through the intercom regularly. You tell him about the BSAA’s seizure of Tricell and its assets, of how you’ve turned one of his hidden facilities into something livable for when he wakes. That you’ll be there when he does, and how excited you are for the day. That you hope he can hear you but feel none of the pain.

You pray he doesn’t.

At the end of the first week, you come to the realization that the tendrils are slowly engulfing his body. Every day, more seem to appear until his legs are cocooned.

You take notes and photos of everything as best as you can, just as you know he’d want you to. After all, this is his creation in action. The seed for his perfect world that was now seemingly consuming yours whole.

By the fourth week, they’ve risen as high as his clavicle.

By the fifth, you feel as if you’re losing your sanity. Alone in a massive underground facility, having not seen the sun for weeks on end, eating only MREs and having what little sleep you get plagued by stress and worst case scenario nightmares…

You crack.

“I don’t know how to make it better, Al…” You whisper brokenly, forehead pressed to the glass. “I can’t– I don’t know how to help you.”

Any assistance you could have possibly had turned their backs the moment the danger far outweighed the payment– which had been the case from the very start. Though you can’t find it in yourself to fault them. If it wasn’t for the fact your heart was lying on that table, you’d have probably followed. The threat of death can be very convincing.

When the tendrils creep onto his face, you break containment. And why not? Why shouldn’t you go in? You helped make this mess. You helped create the organism consuming him. For years, you worked alongside him to perfect the cure to humanity’s wretches– to cull the species destroying this planet and dragging the rest down.

Perhaps you deserved the same fate for sharing in his endeavors– for even having goals so similar and selfish. But was it really? Was it so selfish to want better for humanity?

You drag your swivel chair behind you as you tread over dried blood smears and dehydrated viscera.

“You always did like making me do things the hard way,” you jest as you approach him. But you’re not in there to take notes or vitals.

You set foot inside to relieve your madness.

Your hand quakes as it hovers above his forehead. You’re unsure if you should even touch him due to the blistering and ripplings of infection marring his skin. The burns have healed a tad since bringing him in, but not nearly as much as they should’ve. Then again, it’s been weeks since he’s had a dose of suppressant to keep his strength balanced.

You lower the back of your hand toward his nose, relieved to feel the faintest tickling of air.

“Thank god,” you whisper tightly. “I really miss you...”

Which was the honest truth. You miss your mundane nights with him, sitting near as you both worked independently. Stacks of paper, the clicking of keyboards, endless hours in the laboratories spent refining mere dreams into reality. You miss his cold affections and strange ways of expressing that he, too, had been infected with that parasite known as love.

You let your hand rest shakily over a section of his hair that hadn’t been burnt down to the scalp. You hold your breath and wait.

And wait.

You are not added to the stains of violence on the walls, nor are you impaled in the blink of an eye.

But you are greeted with a much thinner tendril creeping up over his brow and forehead to inspect you. It nudges your thumb and your whole body goes tense, veins chilling as if your blood had turned to ice. It slithers over the bumps of your knuckles, leaving a thin layer of ooze over every inch of skin it touches as it trails to wrap around your wrist. For a brief second, you’re petrified of it taking hold of you like that. Would it try to bind with you? What if it did to you what it had done to your precious Albert? What if it rejected you?

And if it did, how would you continue to try to help him?

But it doesn’t. It does nothing of the sort, just simply continues snaking up the length of your arm. The tip rests atop your shoulder in a strangely… docile manner. You cease petting Wesker’s hair for but a moment to calm yourself, and then you feel it do something odd.

The head of the tendril lifts itself and plops back down on your shoulder, stroking backward little more than an inch before repeating the process. You watch with wide eyes, both fascinated and terrified.

It’s mimicking you.

You pet Wesker’s hair once more and it ceases its movements.

You stop; it begins again.

Was Uroboros itself doing such an act? Could it?

A flicker of hope flashes in your mind and tears prick at your eyes. It’s so fucking unlikely– nearly impossible even. And yet–

“Is that you?” You ask softly, inching just a little closer to him. You can see the way his eyes dart around beneath his eyelids– an entirely new development. Was he dreaming?

The tendril wraps the slightest bit tighter around your arm.

“Can you hear me?”

The head of it lifts and falls against you once more.

It couldn’t be… but, at the same time, it had to be. The tears you’ve fought against so hard fall and you grin from ear to ear. All of that fear fades away, the desperation, the depression and hopelessness– it’s all gone.

You lean forward and press a kiss to his brow, suppressing your silent cries as you revel in the joy that your love is still in there. This is no mere corpse kept alive by the resilience of a virus. The tendril wraps tighter the second your lips brush his skin, and you know in your heart that it’s how he’s able to reciprocate.

“We're going to figure this out,” you promise him. “I love you.”

Two weeks pass before his flesh starts to peek from between those slithering lengths. You’d almost lost hope again.

It’s his lower body that starts to emerge first, bit by bit, starting from the feet up. Flesh that was once marred an angry red, blistered and scorched beyond recognition, was now a scarred pink. Amazingly, some patches seemed to have healed flawlessly, as if he’d never submerged in the fires of the earth to begin with.

Notes and photos. Tests where possible. Anything you could do to make sure Albert had every scrap of information possible about his otherworldly creation.

Uroboros works.

Not only that, but it can bring its host back from the brink of death– if not perform a complete resurrection.

Day by day, more of him is revealed until the pink line at his waist shows you just how deep he’d been submerged. There are splatter patterns elsewhere, you notice. Tiny specks of scarring from where lava had touched him long enough to burn through the dermal layers.

You decide to finally attempt to cover his body again. A simple blanket, but hopefully one that’s warmth would not go unappreciated in the chill of the sterile room.

When his hands are freed, you hold and press countless kisses to them. You rest your cheek in his palm, telling him about your findings– that he’s almost healed and that you’re so goddamn excited.

“Uroboros is a success, my love. You’re proof of it.”

The most fascinating of all, though, is the amber-like formation embedded in his chest. From what you can tell, it is from this that the tentacles on his body are emerging.

You dare not touch it. Not yet, anyway.

Six days later, you find yourself kicking around in the barren kitchen of the complex. There’s nothing but crumbs, and you’re miserable. You haven’t left since arriving, and these compounds of his were never meant to be more than a brief hideaway.

You drag your feet as you make your way back to the bedroom. Seems there’s little more to do than throw yourself in the shower to start your day, so you do exactly that. Though not with any degree of enthusiasm. Instead you sit on the ground and hug your knees, eyes shut as you ignore the complaints of your stomach.

You’ll have to find transportation to and from the nearest town– if there even was one. It’d be lucky if you spoke the language or could even find the currency, but you’ll figure it out. You have no choice.

In the absence of your awareness, coupled with the white noise of the shower, you fail to hear the door creak open. Not even the disoriented shuffling against the tile floor rouses you.

Suddenly, the shower curtain is ripped open, and you startle– damn near knocking your head off the floor as you slip around like a fool. But you clamber to your knees in an instant, arms flinging around the intruder who had fallen to your level.

You can’t help but weep.

“Al?! Oh my god!” you exclaim through the tightness of your throat. Your hand strokes at the nape of his neck. “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry.”

You should’ve been there when he woke up. You should’ve fucking been there.

He shouldn’t have had to find you.

You move back and cup his face in your hands, pressing a smiling kiss to his lips despite the torrent of emotion rocking you to your core. You pull away and find that he looks exhausted. Completely and utterly drained. His eyes are hooded, but the blue irises peeking out from under his lashes confirm that he is, in fact, exactly that. The formerly bright formation on his chest is dimmed nearly black. All of his energy had gone into merely surviving. Your poor, sweet love looked death in the eye for a second time and emerged victorious.

You help him get under the stream of water where you sit and hold him close. You’ve never seen him like this before. Vulnerable was an understatement.

He’s quieter than ever, staring straight ahead at the wall. Shame, you surmise. Humiliation. He was defeated again– maybe even flat out killed. His pride has always been its own Tower of Babel, built high enough to reach heaven and godhood. But now it was truly shattered. Crumbled to bits and buried in the sands of his failure.

There are no words to say. Not yet, anyway. He’s already heard them all. Instead, there is shampoo to massage into his scalp and soap to trail over his body. You may not be able to fix his pain, but you can wash away the remnants of volcanic ash and ooze tarnishing him. The burden of grime is at least gone by the time the water runs cold.

You dry him with a towel, taking note of how his hands shake and how he balls them into fists to hide it. You wonder if he still hurts, but you know he’d never admit to it even if he was truly in pain. Even wincing was out of the question, so you pretend not to hear it when he does. You pretend like he doesn’t lean on you for support as you walk him to the bed, like he doesn’t need your help to lift his legs high enough to settle in.

He lets you hold him while he sleeps, something so out of the ordinary it leaves you blinking in confusion the second his head lays upon your chest. Nevertheless, you do it anyway. You pet through his hair, even occasionally running your fingertips over the healed sections of his scalp. Normally he would stir if you so much as shifted, but he doesn’t even groan in his slumber.

You hold him as though he's made of ceramic, basking in the tenderness of hope until your own eyelids grow heavy. The world can wait. Rebuilding can wait. Hell, even revenge can wait. All that matters is this– is him. Your precious Albert, safe and very much alive in your arms, is more than you could ever ask for.

For the first time in weeks, your eyes flutter shut without fear of tomorrow.

loose followup fic here

another loose followup here

#albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker fanfiction #albert wesker x you #wesker #wesker x reader #wesker x you #resident evil #dead by daylight #dbd #resident evil wesker

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miasmaghoul · 1 year ago

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I must hear your thoughts on this:

Which ghoul is the most hung, and who is the best at taking their dick? Aka, who has the highest capacity for getting their hole used to hell and back.

Well, I suppose it depends what you mean by hung.

Mountain? Crazy length, but average girth. Rain takes it like a fuckin champ, every time.

Swiss? Less length, but real thick. Aeon can never get enough of the stretch.

Aether? On the shorter side, but SO FUCKIN FAT. Dew wants it always, any way he can get it.

But then there's Omega.

He's got good length, solid girth, a pleasant curve when he's hard and a nice flared mushroom tip that rubs perfectly against all those secret sensitive places.

Oh, that doesn't sound very impressive?

Well what if I said he has all that twice?

DOUBLE DICK OMEGA BABYYYYYY

As for who takes it? Terzo, obviously, but there are limitations to human anatomy. A certain level of restraint is needed there. But when Omega really wants to ruin someone? That's when he finds Aether.

"Go to my chambers," he rumbles in a tone Aether is intimately familiar with, a firm hand on his lower back. "Twenty minutes. You know what I want."

And Aether goes, covered in goosebumps and already eager. Heads to the lower ghoul wing, the place Omega, Mist, Zephyr and Ifrit call home, and slips into the second door on the right. Shucks his clothes and leaves them neatly folded in one of the stately armchairs by the fireplace. Clicks on a bedside lamp and gathers the usual things - lube, hand towels, a pair of crystal tumblers. Sets them all on Omega's end table before he pushes the other ghoul's plush bedding out of the way to slide onto silky sheets in the same shade of rich purple as their matching eyes. Shuffling pillows so he can settle against the headboard with his legs spread, in full view of the door.

Then, he closes his eyes. Focuses. Runs his hands down his bare chest and feels energy start to gather just beneath his skin. Sparks and heat, swirling and pulsing in time with his steady heartbeat. Deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth and his fingers trail south. Through the thick hair that covers the swell of his belly, down to the meat of his thighs. Slowly, slowly. Steady. Focus.

There's a crackle in the air, pressure low in his gut, and with one long exhale Aether feels himself change. Feels the weight of his half-hard cock and heavy balls fade, and when he rests a palm between his legs Aether can't help his sigh.

He doesn't do this often - it takes a lot of energy, a lot of power - but the feel of soft folds against his fingers is something he always looks forward to. As is the way his fat little dick pulses against his palm, already starting to stiffen up. Aether dips the tip of his middle finger into his cunt and gasps at the slickness he finds there, the warmth. A second finger sneaks back to rub at his puckered rim, and Aether groans. Sensitive and eager to be filled.

And he will be, when Omega joins him. Filled in every sense of the word - pumped full of cum and enough quintessence to keep his body wet and wanting until Omega has him double knotted and Aether's wailing through what feels like his hundredth orgasm of the night. Until he's shaking uncontrollably and his voice is gone, lost to cries of ecstasy and overwhelm and the sort of pain that only so much pleasure can bring.

After, Omega likes to admire his work. Likes to have Aether hold himself open so he can see how swollen and ruined he is, how his holes try to clamp shut and simply...can't. Too stretched to keep his loads in, of course, and Omega praises him gently but endlessly for taking so much. He cleans Aether up with practiced ease, antd Aether is so delightfully fucked out that he's blissfully unaware of any discomfort, floating high on another dose of magick that helps ease the aches.

He comes back with his head pillowed on Omega's chest, a strong arm around his back. Aether gazes up at him with a far-away look in his eyes, and Omega rewards him with a deep purr that rattles the headboard. He hands Aether one of those tumblers filled with impossibly cold water, which Aether always accepts with a soft sigh.

"You took it so well," Omega murmurs while Aether sips, waiting until he's done to knock their horns together. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been fisted with boxing gloves," Aether rasps, taking another drink, and Omega gives him an amused hum.

"You're welcome."

Aether flicks a few droplets of water at his face and Omega chuckles as he takes the glass back, setting it aside so Aether can collapse into his side once more.

"Sleep now," he slurs, Omega already pulling the covers over them. "Wake me when Jesus comes back."

Omega barks out a laugh, holds him close, and Aether's out like a light before he feels the kiss that gets dropped between his horns.

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #kind of? idk its something lmao #mountain ghoul #swiss ghoul #aether ghoul #omega ghoul #omega/aether #omega x aether #ghouls can have magickal junk as a treat

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tcogtease · 3 months ago

Text

mom!ratchet thoughts w/ reader

cw. dead dove, momcon, light dubcon, cybertronian/human, unhealthy relationships, possessive & manipulative behavior, ratchet's shitty moods and personality lol.

mom!ratchet who’s a bit of a mean mom. she’s also something of a wine mom, overworked in her field from being one of the best doctors there is and left to come home to you late at night, dried energon between her digit joints and loads of shanix sitting in her bank account. good for buying her favorite engex and holding purchases over your head when you get into your little moods. enjoys knowing she’s the only one that can spoil you, control you in such a way.

single but with so many suitors that you’re accustomed to being a “way” into her spark. lots of bots have come to you with gifts and sweet words hoping to get lucky and find out what she wants in a mech. it’s a bit embarrassing to think back on when you were younger, very obviously jealous and slamming doors in faces before she shooed you off to your room. primus, if you knew how fondly she thinks back on those days.

she's sarcastic, snappy and likes to play with you. mumbling underneath her breath when you're down in the kitchen to welcome her even though she's got her back to you. frequently nitpicking the way you do your chores, always claiming to have taught you better. you often find her doing things for you soon after complaining you can’t do anything yourself. huffing around the house like you’re not just a beck and call away for her, she knows.

despite ratchet’s attitude, she has no concept of personal space nor does she care. she’s your mommy, after all. she’s always had cuddle time with you, what used to calm you down when you were little along with low, honeyed coos. what’s the difference now other than the fact she’s in your room, on your bed, with her servos resting on your stomach and drawing patterns on your skin. the distorted security you still feel from it isn’t helping your case. warm voice in your ear telling you she’s so glad you hers, servos dipping lower and gliding across what’s hidden by fabric. completely aware of how hard it is for you to say anything at all.

she’s your doctor, no ifs or buts. she knows every part of your body and better than you do yourself. ratchet knows it’s always better to get the younger ones used to the awkward and uncomfortable procedures instead of beating around the bush. and there’s no one better to do that for you than herself. if anything, she’s obsessed with your health, using all those fancy tools in her digits to poke and prod at will. felt almost everything, a work in progress.

don’t make the mistake of referring to ratchet as your mother instead of mom, she won’t respond to anything but mommy for the next few weeks. you’re her baby no matter what. act like it, or maybe she just needs to hold you longer and see if you can feel her bond with you. she’ll get as close as she needs without slicing you open.

#don’t get me started on her party ambulance days. ok so #dead dove do not eat #cw incest #momcon #cw age gap #cw dubcon #ratchet x reader

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rizzyu · 2 years ago

Text

Period Care HC

Pairing: Vox, Mysta, Luca, Ike, Shu x fem! reader

Category: Fluff, comfort

Warning: None

A/N: For my buddy chum pals who gotta endure this type of pain every once in a while :)

Luckily for me, my periods aren’t that serious and they last very short

Vox Akuma

Would definitely cook the finest foods for you to help with your cravings

He loves to see your expression lighten when he cooks for you, especially during this period of time where you had to endure this cycle again

Sometimes he would offer to help you change your pads/tampons, which always got you flustered as heck.

But who are you to deny him when he worked this hard for you? And so uhh yea we don’t need the details on what happened after that

At night he loves to cuddle you in bed

He’d leave soft, gentle kisses all over your cheeks, forehead, lips, neck, shoulders… you name it (that’s because he knew that you crave for his kisses during your period)

He’d also whisper affirmative words in your ear as you sleep soundly in his arms :)

Mysta Rias

He didn’t know much about periods but even so, he’d still do his best to take care of you

He’d even take a few days off his detective job just to accompany and look after you

He’d go out to buy takeaway, snacks, pads/tampons etc…

Though he wouldn’t wanna leave your for too long since he didn’t want you to feel lonely when you’re at home by yourself

He made sure not to do stupid things to piss you off (he thinks you’re terrifying when you get pissed off during your period)

Would send you a ton load of cursed memes to cheer you up :)

Luca Kaneshiro

Would not allow you to move a single muscle

Bro had you sitting in bed, back propped up by a pillow while he rummages through your house getting you snacks, tea, painkillers you name it

Honestly, he would act as if you caught a severe illness

You’d occasionally try to get off the bed to let your muscles loosen up a bit, but Luca would rush over to you, urging you to get more rest

“Babe! You have to rest! I’ll take care of everything in the house! So don’t worry and get some sleep”

“Luca, I’m not sick- “

Your protests would fall on deaf ears as he literally carries you back to bed :)

Ike Eveland

Bro’s the sweetest when you’re on your period

Much like Luca, he’d take good care of you everything in your home so that you wouldn’t have to work yourself (but not as dramatic and overexaggerated as Luca)

He’d help you buy all the items you needed. Would also either order you takeout or make you something to eat

Usually on the nights of your period, he’d have you laying comfortably on top of him on the couch as you watch something on TV

Feeling him stroke your hair and listening to his heartbeat as you had your cheek pressed against his chest always soothed your period pain

It wouldn’t be long before both of you fell asleep on each other (while the TV’s still playing)

Shu Yamino

Bro loves to do various things with you to take your mind of your annoying period

Sometimes you two would play video games together

Sometimes you’d draw little doodles together

He always made sure to help you feel as comfortable as possible on your period

Which was why he loves to cuddle you on your period

You’d lay your head on his shoulder as he’d rub circles on your lower abdomen to soothe your cramps

He’d also rant about his recent streams until you fall asleep on him :)

bro you do not understand how much I love the Mysta fanart here

#riyugu writing #yorutenshi riyugu #nijisanjien #nijisanjien x reader #luxiem #luxiem x reader #nijisanji #nijisanji x reader #luxiem x reader fluff #vox akuma #vox akuma x reader #mysta rias #mysta rias x reader #luca kaneshiro #luca kaneshiro x reader #ike eveland #ike eveland x reader #shu yamino x reader #shu yamino

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bird-in-the-space · 8 months ago

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Echoes of the Unknown

Hiding your face, you blend among these robots. You dread the time you have as you hide in plain sight and worry about Emily's safety.

Warnings: reader being very nervous, mild violence, running away, eating energon, hitting yourself with a rock, getting tracked, and getting sick.

Chapter 7

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

You stood there, your back faced toward the newcomers, trying hard not to freak out and expose yourself to them.

“Hey, is there something wrong with your audials?” they asked.

You glanced at Emily, who tried to give you some kind of sign. You understood what she meant, you need to comply or something bad will happen. You tried to think what to do, then you remembered that you still had the face plate with you. You quickly grabbed it and set it back on your face.

“Turn around,” the robot ordered.

You then turned toward them, your face hidden behind the mask. They didn’t react badly, so you were saved.

“We received orders to get the rest of the energon on the ship and clean up the mining equipment. We have a tight schedule so let's get going. We are not allowed to indulge ourselves. Do you understand?” the one on the right asked.

You nodded, fearing your voice might give you away.

“Good. Then let’s get going,” he said and you started following them. You glanced toward Emily and she was looking toward you. You gulped and followed the robots. Mentally you were sweating like a bucket. Maybe for now, you will pretend to be one of them.

You followed the two to another cavern where there were more robots, packing the blue crystal cubes into boxes and carrying the equipment. You felt nervous. Luckily, Emily was in the back caves. You had faith that she stayed hidden until you found a chance to leave unnoticed and rejoin her. You needed to get out before any of these robots realized something was off.

You looked up when you saw what seemed to be some kind of elevator. Your chest became tighter with anxiety when you saw a whole damn alien ship, a menacing one of that. You were now fully convinced that these robots weren’t friendly, they had a villain look written all over their ship.

“Get to work. We need to load the energon before leaving,” one of the robots ordered.

You followed what they did, picking up the boxes with blue crystals and carrying them to the elevator. It didn’t seem you needed to ride the thing, so you felt okay for a moment. Luckily, the face plate did its best to hide your worries and terrified expressions.

You then noticed a different kind of robot standing on the side. The robot was bigger and bulkier. It had a blue paint and his face was orange. He had to be the boss robot because he was ordering and overlooking the whole operation.

You worried about Emily while loading boxes of energon on the elevator. It didn’t seem anyone had found her so it gave you some relief. The bad news was that you started feeling woozy and struggled to carry the boxes. It was clear your fatigue was catching up to you.

After putting down another box, you looked for a chance to ditch them. Perhaps you could pretend to be fetching something then run for it.

“Hey, you.” someone said.

You looked toward the source of the voice and to your dread it was the blue robot with yellow eyes, and he was looking right at you.

“Come here for a moment,” he said.

You didn't dare to do otherwise, so you came to him. You tried not to shake in fear when you reached him and stood in front of him.

“How did you get that bruise on your side?” he asked, pointing at you.

Confused, you checked beneath your arm and nearly froze. It was the bruise from your fall. It had managed to stop bleeding but it was still visible. How did you forget such a detail?

“I… fell,” you uttered, lowering your voice hopefully enough to make him think you were a male.

“You fell?” the robot looked at you curiously.

“Yes. I… tripped earlier and fell against a wall due to a hidden hole in the ground. I did not notice I had a bruise, so I continued working,” you explained.

“I see. Well, check in with Knockout later on after we’re done here. We can’t have someone injured on the job,” the blue robot explained. You were nearly taken back. You were grateful that he bought the lie, but he sounded oddly friendly. It was nothing you imagined.

“Sir, a few of the miners have spotted a human wandering in the west side of the mines,” one of the robots said. Your blood froze. Oh no.

“A human? Here?” the blue robot said then left, following the robots.

You silently started panicking. Shit! Shit! Shit. If you don’t find Emily first, there is a chance that they are going to kill her. There was no time waiting you needed to find her now.

You pretended to walk back to your post but made a beeline toward the tunnel you came from. Luckily, none of the robots seemed to have noticed and when you were out of their sight, you started running fast to the last place you saw Emily, praying she was safe.

“Stand back!” Emily yelled as she was cornered by two of the purple robots. They held their blasters toward her.

“What should we do with it?” one asked the other.

“Commander Breakdown has given instruction to wait for him, and ensure the human would not escape,” the other explained.

“Be careful! I’m contagious!” Emily yelled.

It caused the other to hesitate. “Is it contagious?” he asked. The other one shrugged.

You suddenly appeared from behind, pushing one of the robots against the wall, causing it to slam and fall hard against the floor. Emily yelped and avoided getting crushed by the robot.

“What the–?” the other robot pointed his blaster toward you, but you then smashed a rock you picked up along the way against his head, causing him to fall to the floor with a heavy dent on his head.

You breathed frantically, then kneeled toward Emily. “Alright! We’re bailing out of here!” you said as you picked her up.

You ran for the path you two came from. Right at that moment, the blue robot and a few others came to the room and found the two on the floor.

Luckily, you had a good memory when it came to direction and remembering where you came from. You did not stop running till you were outside from the same cave opening. You put Emily down and transformed.

“Get in right now!” you said and she put no protest, stepping inside. After she was in, you closed the door and speeded out of there. You returned to the road and drove over the speed limit, anything to get away from the robots before they could follow you.

“Okay, that was way too close. What were you doing? Weren’t you hiding?” you scolded her.

“I was, but you were taking so long so I thought I could check on you, but then I was found and cornered,” Emily explained. “I didn’t think those guys would be everywhere,”

“Oh, there were more. There was a whole ship of them,” You explained.

“What? Like a real flying ship?” she exclaimed.

“Anyway, we have what we need so let’s just get back and hope they don’t follow us,” you said as you drove back to the barn.

After getting back and letting Emily out you transformed and groaned, feeling an awful headache and the familiar fatigue wanting to make you pass out.

“You alright?” Emily asked.

“I’m fine. I’m just having a really bad headache right now,” you uttered.

“Hey, try to eat the blue crystals. Perhaps they will help,” she said.

You grabbed one of the blue crystals from your robot pocket.

“Alright, here goes or nothing,” you took a bite out of the crystal.

The crystal was hard, super hard. It required some force from your jaws to bite it into pieces. You moaned as you swallowed and contemplated the taste.

“So?” Emily looked at you.

“I don’t feel anything,” you said.

“Maybe it takes time to take effect,” she said.

The symbol on your chest suddenly lit up and released beeping sounds. You both stared at it dumbfounded.

“Uhm, what’s going on?” you questioned. “This hasn’t done this before,”

“(Name)! What if that is a tracking device and they’re tracking you?” Emily said. You looked at her in horror.

“They can do that!” you shrieked.

“You have to turn it off!” she yelled.

“Ah! How!” you looked around your chest but the symbol was inside your plating. “Turn off! Turn off! Turn off!” you repeated then looked down on a rock. You grabbed it and then hit your chest hard enough for it to crack. You groaned painfully but then hit hard enough that the symbol finally turned off.

You both stared at the nasty dents on your chest.

You then heard what sounded like jets. You saw something approaching from the sky.

“Uh… time to go,” you said.

Two fighter jets appeared from the sky and transformed. The two purple robots landed in the front yard and looked around. Their eyes scanned the place before it fell on the rock in the middle of the yard.

“Commander Breakdown. We have arrived at the last known location of the tracker,” one of them reported to the com link.

“Have you located the rogue Vehicon?” the voice returned.

“Negative. The place is empty,” the robot replied.

A sigh echoed across the link. “Return to the ship. This matter can be dealt with later,” Breakdown ordered.

The two robots transformed and flew away, without realizing you and Emily had hidden in the nearby bushed in your car form. Emily looked over for a moment before you began to drive away from the cabin.

You two decided to go to her house. Her family was luckily on a trip, so you were able to stay in her garage. You had to crouch down to avoid hitting your head, but it was better than nothing. You groaned when your stomach released another uncomfortable sound.

“You feeling okay?” Emily asked as she stepped into the garage.

“I think my stomach is just progressing the energon I consumed,” You explained.

“Energon? Is that the name of this thing?” she asked, holding a small piece of the blue crystal.

“It’s what they kept calling it after I carried several boxes for them like a labor worker,” you answered, slightly annoyed by the experience. “Anyway, I think it would be safer for us to stay here for a while,” you said.

“Yeah, rest well. I’m sure they don’t dare to enter a town full of people just to look for one bot,” Emily said as you transformed into your car form and she closed the lights, retreating to her own bedroom.

You groaned when your stomach made another painful churn. Good thing you were too tired to stay awake and fell into another dreamless sleep. This day had been too eventful for your liking.

#transformers x reader #transformers prime x reader #tfp x reader #transformers prime #tfp #x cybertronian reader #echoes of the unknown #various x reader #oc x reader

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kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay · 2 years ago

Text

I'm here

Summary: Natasha holds you as you fall apart.

Pairing: Natasha Romanov x Reader

(No use of descriptive words for Reader's appearance. If you do stumble across one, please let me know and I'll immediately find a more inclusive alternative)

Warnings: 18+, mental breakdown, work stress, feeling overwhelmed by everything, tears, lots of tears, hurt/comfort, fluff, hugs and kisses, Natasha being a perfect human being and pure soul

Word count: 1.1k

Author's note: Comforting fluff and angst for everyone who just needs a damn break from life. I wrote this for @romanoffsbish because I wanted to give you something nice 🖤 I hope you like it ☺️😳

...

Your hands blindly reach out for your caffeinated drink of choice, downing the last dregs before pushing the empty container to the side with a grumble.

You blow out an agitated sigh, eyes narrowing at the papers scattered across your desk. The black letters are barely readable in the dim light ofyour laptop screen.

Your eyes are burning, lids heavy as you fight to keep them open. You can't stop now. There's still too much to do, too many things to take care of. They just keep piling up, as soon as one thing is crossed off the list three new ones are added and you are drowning in the attempt to stay on top of the ever growing work load.

The sky outside your window is dim, the last rays of light vanishing on the horizon as the bright artificial lights of civilization take over the evening sky.

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath. Your teeth dig into your lower lip as you look at the mess of unfinished work spread out in front of you. Tears rise in your eyes and you tear your gaze away from the papers to stare at the ceiling.

Heavy breaths rattle in your chest as your throat starts closing up, the overwhelming pressure of life swamping you.

Your fingers desperately twist the fabric of your shirt and you can't keep the tears from falling. They roll hotly down your face, collecting at your trembling chin before sliding down your throat and wetting the collor of your shirt.

“Fuck,” you curse breathlessly, your voice shaky and unsteady. “I can't do this anymore. I just can't.”

Giving in to the tears you slump forward, elbows resting on the desk as you bury your face in your clammy hands. There's no holding back the mental breakdown bearing down on you with crushing might.

“God, I can't,” you sob, shoulders shaking with grief and overwhelm.

Broken sobs shake your body, tears dripping down your face, snot clogging up your nose and mixing with the tears.

You are so caught up in losing your mind, you don't hear the scraping sound of the front door or the whisper of quiet footsteps drawing closer.

“Sweetheart?”

You jerk up, startled by the sudden sound of a voice. Your heart starts pounding in your chest and you do your best to wipe your teary, snotty face with your shirt before glancing over your shoulder.

Natasha stands in the doorframe, her soft, red hair pulled up into a messy bun. She eyes you with concern, a sad slant to her full lips as she studies the part of your face that she can see from her position.

“Hi,” you choke out nasally, still trying to compose yourself. Natasha isn't supposed to see you like this. Weak, messy, desperate.

“What's going on, sweetheart?” she calls out softly and approaches until she stands next to you. One of her warm hands comes to rest on your shoulder, but you turn your head away, not wanting to reveal your puffy, tear-stained face.

Natasha is having none of it. She pulls your chair away from the desk and reaches out to grasp you chin between her fingers, forcing you to face her.

“What has you so upset, hm? What can I do to make it better?”

“It's nothing,” you try to deflect, squirming in her grip. But she doesn't allow you to turn away.

“It's not nothing if it makes you cry. Tell me.”

“It's stupid. Just... too much work. I have so many things to do and I don't know where to start. No matter what I do, I can't stay on top of all of it and it just keeps getting more,” you start, reluctant at first, but as soon as the first few words are out, it's as if the floodgates have been opened.

“I barely have time to relax, all I can think about the tasks still waiting for me, the neverending list of things that need to be done and I just can't- I'm tired, I'm so tired. I can barely get out of bed in the morning but I still can't sleep when I go to bed at night. There's just too much, too much to do, too many thoughts in my head, too much- I can't I don' wanna-”

The breakdown is in full swing now and the tears resurface as you crumple under Natasha's gaze.

The red-head moves quickly, pushing her hands under your arms to keep you from folding in on yourself completely. She hoists you to your feet before taking your place on the chair and pulling you into her lap.

“Shhh, it's okay. I got you,” she whispers, one hand stroking up and down your shaking back while the other holds the back of your head, tucking you comfortably into the crook of her neck.

You mindlessly burrow into her embrace, arms winding around her body to have something to hold onto while you fall apart.

Natasha holds you through all of it, the tears, the choked sobs and violent trembling shaking your exhausted body. She coos calming words at you, kissing the top of your head and humming to you to bring you down to earth.

Eventually, your sobs quieten down, tears slowing and allowing you to see more clearly.

“You're okay, I'm here,” Natasha mumbles, giving your body a little squeeze.

You stay silent, head tucked away in the crook of her neck as your breathing slowly calms down and grows more even, matching Natasha's steady breaths.

“I- I just want a nice, easy life. Is that too much to ask,” you croak out tearily, voice muffled against Natasha's skin.

The red-head hums, her hands slowly caressing your back.

“Not at all,” she says after a moment of silence.

You scoff, though there's no bite behind it. You're too wrung out to feel upset.

“Then why is everything so difficult? Why is everything more than I can handle,” you ask, not expecting an answer. Natasha gives one anyway, but not one you expect.

“We'll figure it out, love. Make plans for you, charts and lists to keep track of things. Keep everything managable,” she says and kisses the side of your head. “I'm here for you.”

The sincerity in the red-head's voice makes you tear up again. You cling to her and rub your face on your shoulder, brushing away the tears that threaten to fall.

“Thank you,” you mumble and turn your head enough to kiss her neck.

“You're welcome, sweetheart,” Natasha replies softly, slowly rocking the two of you in your desk chair. “Now rest. I have you.”

Closing your tired eyes, you do as Natasha tells you, drifting off into a deep slumber in the loving embrace of your girlfriend.

...

:'D

I need Natasha so bad, pleeaaase *whines*

#natasha romanov #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanov fic #comfort fic #angst #hurt/comfort #all the comfort #and love #drabble #i think #kinda long for a drabble #one-shot it is

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