#and I'm feeling tired and weak and shaky >⁠.⁠<< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[call-me-copycat]

Got waken up at 5am with the sudden urge to throw up (⁠T⁠_T⁠) I'm not even sick or anything, and I'm absolutely positive I didn't overeat (I have a very small appetite)

Wah wah wahhh-

[somejerkguy]

love having a migraine hangover on a day off 💜

[whelpimnauthuman]

It's been, like, 5 years and I'm just now figuring out how to shower in a way that doesn't make my POTS unbearable

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley/female reader

Simon knows suffering. He knows what it looks like, what it sounds like, what it feels like. He knows the fine line humans walk before they break and shatter, the cusp of control that is lost in the face of agony.

And right now, he sees it all over your face. Suffering.

"She's started walking," he murmurs, balancing Phoenix next to your thigh on the bed, sleepy and curled around the crux of his elbow, "kind of. She holds onto the couch and tables and stuff to cruise around."

"That's... great." The words are devoid of life, mirroring the dead look in your eyes, the one that's been there since you woke up a few days ago.

"Do you want to hold her? While she naps?" You shake your head immediately.

"No, I don't think... I'm really weak. I don't think I could hold her up." It's understandable. You've lost all muscle mass, mobility, strength. You can't walk to the bathroom, or hold a spoon for too long. You lose your words, your train of thought.

But that's not what this is. This is something else.

Still, he has to try.

"Well, I could..." He trails off, heart sinking at the look of panic in your eyes, the way you trace the knuckle of your ring finger subconsciously. It's a tic you've developed over night, one he's not sure you're even aware of.

"I'm tired." You won't look at him, picking a spot on your lap instead, lower lip tucked between your teeth.

"Okay, honey, that's alright. You don't have to." You reach for him, shaky hand trying to find his and he rushes to take it, rub his thumb over the back of your knuckles, squeeze you as tight as you can stand. "Do you want to get some rest?" You give him a nervous look, but nod.

"You'll be here? When I wake up?" His heart breaks.

"Of course."

No one was prepared for what would happen when you woke up and discovered you weren't pregnant anymore. The therapist warned him, but he was too focused on willing you to open your eyes everyday. He didn't listen, and he should have. He'll never forget the terror in your eyes, the way you pressed your hands to your stomach, how quickly you became hysterical, lost in the fear that Phoenix was gone.

The only thing you could say was "I tried, I tried" on a loop, a broken record stuck in the past. You tried to protect them, you told him, you tried to keep them safe. He held your face between his hands and forced you to look at him, but you weren't there, you weren't with him, and nothing he did or said got through to you. You were in that cold concrete box, tied to a chair, trying to protect your baby while a man was cutting your finger off. He told you Phoenix was fine, more than fine, that everything was okay, but it fell on deaf ears.

You only calmed down when they gave you a sedative, and he barely made it out of the room before he vomited in a trash can.

The next time you woke, it was to a therapist and Simon, Cami and Gaz down the hall with both of the kids. Waiting.

"A girl?" Simon squeezes your hand.

"A beautiful, healthy little girl. She's perfect." You blink.

"She's okay?" You were crying, big fat tears dripping down your cheeks, and he wanted to hold you so badly, but he had to get through this next part, and if he tugged you into his chest, he'd fall apart.

"She's okay mama. She's amazing." He glances at the therapist, who nods. "You had a c-section, shortly after you got here."

"I did?" You tug at the sheets immediately, pulling the gown up over your hips to look at your belly. "Oh." You sniffle, staring at yourself. The incision healed perfectly, but even a perfect wound still leaves a scar, and you glance between him and the therapist anxiously, who says your name quietly.

"I want you to take a deep breath," she coaches, waiting for you to do as she asks before continuing, "you've been here for over a year. Phoenix, your daughter, will be turning one soon. Orion is four." Your eyes widen.

"What? No... no that's not... " You start to shake, looking at Simon with wide, scared eyes. "Simon?" 

"It's been over a year, sweetheart." It burns on his tongue, but he promised to reaffirm it, to help solidify it as your reality. "But everyone is okay, you're okay. You're healthy, and Phoenix is healthy, and everything is-"

"Where are they? Orion and... Phoenix?" He glances at the therapist, who nods again.

"They're here. Do you want to see them?" You hold onto him like a lifeline.

"Yeah." 

The hard part was supposed to be over. Orion ran into your room so fast, and you smiled so big Simon's knees went weak, his knuckles white on the rail of the hospital bed. His son curled up in your lap just like he'd been doing for the last year and cried, clinging to you. He covered you in tears and snot, and all you did was hold him closer and bury your nose in his hair.

But when you saw the baby in Cami's arms, you turned into a ghost. "There she is," Cami bounced her, "there's your mama."

The look on your face was devastating. Gaz, thankfully, noticed it as fast as Simon did, and stepped halfway in front of Cami, stopping her from getting closer. "Let's take a breath," He murmured, looking back at where you sat shell-shocked in the bed.

"That's Nixie mama." Orion announces, matter of fact, just as he does everything else nowadays, and you shake your head.

"She's... she's beautiful." Your fingers twisted together. "I uh... sorry, I'm just..."

"It's okay." Simon pressed his lips to your temple, and you leaned into the touch.

"I'm sorry," you choked, fully crying now, still holding Orion, your grip tightening. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"It's alright honey, it's okay." He stroked your cheek, trying to calm you.

"Ouch mama, too tight." You let go of him like you were holding a hot pan, almost frantically, suddenly nervous. Scared.

"Let's give mama a break, okay? I think Uncle Gaz promised you a trip to the playground right?" Simon scooped him up, trying to hold him still as he thrashed.

"No!" He cried, trying to wriggle free. "No! I want to stay with mama, I want to stay, daddy stop!"

"She'll be here when you get back, little man." He was at a loss, saved only when Gaz pulled Orion from his arms and practically dragged him kicking and screaming out the door.

Once he was gone, your cries turned into sobs so heavy you needed an oxygen mask, and he spent the rest of the night holding you in his arms, long after you fell asleep.

"Hey."

"Hey." You immediately make room for him to lay down. He's bigger than the bed, but it's never stopped him from being beside you, and it won't stop him now.

He only went home to get the kids bathed, fed, and down for bed, letting Gaz know he'd relieve him again in a few hours. It was routine. Had been for a year. Cami and Gaz practically living at the house, swapping out weeks with Soap, everyone rotating so Simon could spend as much time at the hospital as possible. When they were gone, he made it work, but broke apart every time he couldn't be here, with you. The idea of you waking up without him made him physically ill, so he even enlisted someone from the next town over.

He was desperate.

Now, he's desperate in a different way.

"I think..." you're half asleep, and he kisses your hair, "tomorrow I'll do better."

"There's no rush. You've only been awake for a week. It takes time."

"I want to do better." He tightens his hold. "I promise I will." He's told you no one expects you to be okay or emotionally ready for any of this overnight. You're confused, you're stressed, and your guilt is eating you alive.

It's his fault at the end of the day. Everything you're going through, everything you will go through, your trauma, the PTSD, the things he knows are coming, all of it... the weight is on him.

"You do what you can. I'll be here for the rest." It's no question, he'd give his entire life for you. Lay down and die for you.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

[angellily920]

Thunderstorms

Pairing: John Walker x reader

Warnings: None. John's a secret softie

Word Count: 826

It was raining. Hard. And when there's heavy rain, there's lightning, and when there's lightning...there's thunder. John Walker hated the thunder. It was loud, and it reminded him of his late night military missions. He shot up in bed as the first roar of thunder rumbled through the tower. Groaning, he ran a hand over his face before covering his ears for a second. He felt pathetic. Weak. He definitely couldn't let any of the team find out he was scared. Ava and Yelena would never let him live that down.

A flash of lightning warned him about the incoming noise, and he covered his ears again instinctively. He winced as he heard the muffled noise. He shook his head in frustration and forced his hands down. You're a grown man, act like it. He scolded himself. He squinted in the thick darkness of his room before leaning over to his nightstand to turn on his lamp. A soft glow illuminated the space around him and he exhaled. As long as he could distract himself...he should be fine.

Another clap of thunder rang through the tower, and he shut his eyes and took a breath trying to block out some of the bad military memories. What he didn't expect was the knock at his door. His voice came out in a tired mumble. "Come in." He quickly rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his messy hair.

The door creaked open to reveal you. You were clad in an oversized t-shirt and some sleep shorts. He sat up straighter in bed, clearing his throat. His blue eyes scanned your body quickly before settling on your face. You looked frightened.

"Hey..." Your voice was soft. "I saw your light was on and...I just..." You scratched the top of your head nervously. "I'm scared of thunder. And you seemed like the strongest so..."

John blinked and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before taking a deep breath. "Right...yeah. Come here." He gently pat the space beside him on the bed.

You closed the door behind you and walked over to his bed. The thunder roared again and you jumped slightly. "I hate it when it does that."

He had jumped as well but he hoped you didn't notice. "Yeah. Me too." He whispered.

Your eyes studied him as you curled yourself up on his bed. "Are you scared of the thunder?"

"What? Psh, no." He scoffed, though his eyes betrayed him slightly. He couldn't be weak in front of you, not when you came to him for comfort. "I'm a war hero. Thunder doesn't scare me."

He clenched his fists as another rumble of thunder echoed through the room. You noticed it and looked at him softly. "You know...you don't always have to be the tough guy."

John raised an eyebrow and laughed transparently. "I'm not scared."

"Don't lie to me John."

"Maybe I'm a little scared. It triggers bad memories from my time in the military. No one ever talks about the consequences of being a perfect soldier." He fiddled with his blanket and shrugged.

Before he could look up at you, he felt a warm embrace. You were hugging him. He stiffened for a second before relaxing and wrapping his arms around you. A shaky breath escaped his lips and you tightened your grip slightly.

"Being with someone helps a lot when I'm scared." You spoke quietly against his neck, and it sent pleasant shivers down his spine. He couldn't deny he felt an attraction to you ever since you joined the team. He just never thought you'd feel the same.

"Yeah...it's...nice." His fingers gently threaded through your hair and you hummed softly aginst him. This time when the thunder came around, he didn't flinch. He was too wrapped up in you for his mind to care.

"Mind if I stay here for the night?" The request sent a surge of warmth through his body.

"Of course." His voice came out more breathless than he intended, but his grip never loosened. He gently moved his hands across your back. "You know, if thunderstorms always bring you snuggling up to me...they might become my favorite thing."

This caused a laugh to come from you. "Thunderstorm cuddles sound like a great time."

He hummed, the sound rumbling softly against you. "You're right about that."

After a while of soft breaths and tight embrace, you spoke. "I don't think you're weak for being scared of thunder. In fact, it makes me feel a little better that I'm not the only one. And it says a lot about your character to try to comfort me when you're scared too."

His cheeks burned as he heard you, but he tried to brush it off. "Yeah yeah, whatever, Thanks. Just don't tell the others about this, yeah?"

"I won't. As long as we make these cuddles a regular thing."

He smiled at that. "I think I can arrange that princess." He gently nuzzled against your hair. "Not a problem at all."

[moody-alcoholic]

Sick

Ghoap x reader, established relationship

CW: Sick reader, vomit, hurt/comfort.

I'm trying and failing to keep my random dribbles under 1k words.

____

“The whole thing’s a waste of time.” Johnny says as he walks through the front door with Simon.

“An order’s an order.” Simon replies, hanging his coat up. Johnny closes the door sighing.

“Don't mean I have to like it.” Johnny says following him. 

“Yeah well such is life.” Simon sighs, stepping down into the living room. 

“We’re home!” Johnny shouts walking into the living room. It's late, maybe you’re sleeping. Simon goes into the kitchen. 

It took all your energy to pull yourself out of bed, hearing them walk through the door and call for you, you forced yourself to move. You feel weak, shaky, your body is sticky with a fever. You thought it was just a cold, this is more than a cold. Your head is throbbing, your body aches. You’ve missed them though, you always miss them when they’re away. 

“Hey love.” Johnny calls coming over to you. You lean against the doorframe, nausea bubbles in you and you press your hand on your stomach. Your mouth fills with saliva and before you can stop yourself you’re sprinting to the bathroom. 

You hear footsteps following you as you vomit into the toilet. Your head throbs with each heave, tears run down your face. You feel hands on you, Johnny’s rubbing your back as Simon pulls your hair out your face. 

“You’re burning up love.” Johnny says the back of his hand pressing against your cheek.

“I thought it was just a cold.” You say as your stomach settles and you get a chance to breathe. 

“It’s more than a cold.” Simon says, stroking your head. “We need to get this fever down.” You reach over for the toilet paper to wipe your mouth. Johnny grips your shoulders pulling you against his chest. He pulls some paper off for you and presses it into your hands. You dab your mouth hearing Simon running the bath. 

Johnny’s arms wrap around you holding you against him. He presses kisses on your head running his hands over you. 

“I’m sorry.” You say feeling guilt rise in you, the shivering comes back and your head starts going foggy. 

“Don’t be silly love, we’re here now. You’re okay.” He says squeezing you tighter against him. Simon comes to bend down next to you both, his hand comes up to brush your forehead. 

“Why didn’t you call us? We could have come home.”  He says. 

“You’re busy, I didn’t want to bother you.” You say. Simon sighs, leaning over and planting a kiss on your forehead before he leaves the room. Cold air blows in and you shiver in Johnny’s chest. He grips you tighter, running his hands up and down your arms to try and warm you. 

“C’mon, let’s get you out of these clothes.” He encourages tugging on the bottom of your pyjama top. You raise your arms for him letting him strip the soaked clothes off you, you shiver wrapping your arms around your chest. He shuffles pulling your bottoms off before picking you in his arms. 

“I can walk.” you murmur as he places you down in the hot water of the bath. 

“Sure.” He chuckles as Simon comes back into the bathroom with a glass of water in his hand. He bends down by the bath helping you bring it up to your mouth. You take little sips while Johnny coos over you, picking up a flannel and wetting it in the cool water of the bath before pressing it around your upper body.

You lean back in the bath, closing your eyes letting the water wash away the tension built up in your muscles. Johnny’s hand keeps your hair out your face as he dabs your forehead. Now and then you open your eyes looking at the concerned look on their faces as they fuss over you. 

The longer you stay in the bath letting the water cool you the more tired you become. The nausea fades and you’re just left with the throbbing in your head. 

“Ready to go back to bed?” Simon asks eventually, his fingers stroking your cheek. You open your eyes, humming and looking at them, you don't really want to move, enjoying the warm water relaxing you. Johnny smiles, getting up to grab a towel. You let out a sigh feeling goosebumps rise on your skin as Simon helps you sit up in the bath. 

Simon's hands stay on you, holding your back and your waist as you stand, stepping out into the towel Johnny is holding out for you. Your teeth almost immediately start to chatter as the cold air from the flat hits your skin. 

“Let’s get you all tucked up in bed.” Johnny says, wrapping his arms around you and guiding you into the bedroom. 

“Let me sleep in the spare room, I don’t want to get you sick too.” You protest as he sits you down on the bed. You hear Simon open the wardrobe.

“Don’t worry ‘bout us love.” Johnny says helping you dry, you let them dote over you as the fogginess comes back to your head and warmth from the bath starts to fade. 

You barely remember them dressing you in fresh clothes only that you’re now laid down in the bed with Johnny tucked up behind you. 

“Where’s Simon?” You ask looking round the empty room, there's a bright light coming into the room through the door making your head throb forcing you to close your eyes. 

“He’ll be back in a sec.” Johnny says, pulling his arms around you. You can feel his warmth behind you, his kisses on your neck pulling your hair out your face. You hear Simon come back, opening your eyes to see him bed down by you with a bowl and a cloth. 

You smile at him shuffling in the bed. He pats the damp cloth round your face. It’s nice, almost instantly taking away some of the throbbing in your forehead. You let out a sigh relaxing into Johnny’s warm embrace. 

“That's it, just relax.” Johnny hums in your ear. You close your eyes sinking into the bed. 

“We’ve got you, you’re okay.” Simon says. “Just rest, you’ll feel better in the morning.”

____

[vivimura]

breaking up with riki ─ sfw, 0.935 k wc, i suck at angst but it was heavily requested this is the best i can vomit out i'm sorry

“you know what your problem is?" riki asked softly, but the furrow between his eyebrows was enough evidence of his irritation.

"your problem is you overthink everything." he spoke, his grip on your wrist tightening to the point it began to hurt. "you know what the future holds?" he asks, his voice gentle yet serious. "absolutely fucking nothing. all we got is the present, and right now, i like you. you like me."

you scoffed in disbelief, using every bit of strength in your fibres to bite your sobs back down. 

“oh, i overthink, do i? or, have you considered the fucking possibility that you don’t think enough, nishimura?” you spat out bitterly making the frown between his eyebrows deepen. the tears welled in your eyes made your vision grow blurry, but also frustrated you for reasons more than that. you hated that it made you look weak.

“life isn’t so simple. just because we like something, doesn’t mean that we can have it. it doesn’t work that way. we’re amazing together, but it’s just- so much work. i’m exhausted.”

"you think i don't fucking think?" he almost growls, his grip on your wrist finally loosening as if he realized he was holding it too tightly. "i think all the time. about you, about us, about how fucking hard this is. do you think it's easy for me?"

"it doesn't matter if you think or not, if you're not going to do something about it!" you yanked your hand away from his grip completely when you got the chance, a stray tear finally falling from your right eye. it disappeared when you used the back of your hand to harshly wipe it away.

"love shouldn't be something that makes me feel so drained and tired emotionally. this relationship,” you gestured to the air between your bodies, “just you-, it's so much fucking work!"

"that's work i'm willing to do-”

"-and i'm not!" you finally snapped and yelled. your eyes bulged when you took in the gravity of your own words.

silence lingered in the air for what felt like an eternity, but was just a few moments. there was a bead of sweat rolling down the side of your forehead, your heart beating so fast and loud that you could hear it in your ears. the look on riki’s face was indescribable.

his eyes widen momentarily, then narrow as he processes your words. his jaw clenches, a muscle twitching visibly. in a flash, he steps closer, his voice low and intense. "well, fuck me, you've finally said it out loud, haven't you?"

your hands formed tight fists, every raging thought bubbling in your mind suddenly disappeared for some reason. it felt like your knees would give out any second now, but you stayed there, as still and silent as a beautiful, teary-eyed doll.

he stared at your tears for an age, his face expressionless. his eyes flickered between your left and right orbs, as if trying to find some truth. some explanation. deep down, he knew he was fooling himself. he already knew.

he laughed bitterly at your silence and shook his head. "unbelievable. after all this time, all these fights, you're just... done? just like that?" he bites his lip harshly to hold back his own tears. he felt a strange emptiness in his chest, a feeling he hadn't felt before. "no more willing to put in the work."

not bothering to wait for your reply, he sighed heavily and turned away, his hand reaching up to run through his hair. "just-.. go home." his voice was flat, emotionless. it was an effort to keep his breathing steady.

you let out a shaky exhale and memorised his side profile as if you were seeing it for the last time. your eyes drooped down as your head bowed in utter sorrow, the soft gray carpet on the floor of riki’s bedroom came into your view.

it was the same carpet. one which you’d once talked on for hours straight, played games you loved, play-fighted, kissed each other and sometimes even more. it was beginning to feel like those things would be nothing but a memory anymore.

you wiped your tears away, turning around to pick up your purse from his bedside table with shaky steps. riki’s heart squeezed, but he just watched you from the corner of his peripheral vision. he watched your back, your shoulders slightly hunched as if you were bracing yourself for something.

when you turned around, riki almost broke down completely when he saw the look on your face. the quiver in your lips, the bags under your eyes. the spark he once saw in your eyes when he first met you now reduced to dullness and tears. he nearly opened his mouth to stop you, but his words died down. he knew he had to let you go.

you didn't dare to look into his eyes and walked to the door of his bedroom. your fingers trembled as you reached for the handle of the door. when you pulled it down and opened the door just a little, it felt so unreal that you couldn't tell if this was a dream.

the urge to turn around and say something, or just look at him was nearly eating you alive. but you didn’t trust yourself enough to run into his arms if you saw the state of him. you had to do this, for yourself. just as you were about to leave, you whispered a small, “b-bye,”

click, shut the door, and possibly the longest, most meaningful period in riki’s life.

mlist comment, reblog & follow!

[changetyre]

Broken ⒾⓈⓌ

SUMMARY: You and Max are having trouble trying to grow your family and your daughters are affected by it. Part of the Verstappen Family Verse

WARNINGS: Angst, miscommunication, pregnancy issues, a smidge of smut at the end.

A/N: This was requested over on Wattpad. Despite the angst, this is one of my favorite parts of this series.

Max stretched out, his back feeling painful after carrying all the presents he'd bought up from the parking lot before stashing them in a high cupboard in the house where he was sure nobody would look. It was late and he'd spent most of the day out looking for gifts, although truly it was also an excuse to get some space since the environment at home wasn't the best right now. 

The house was quiet when he arrived, a good indicator the girls were already asleep in their room and you as well probably. Although only a few months ago there wouldn't be a day you wouldn't wait for Max before going to bed, physically unable to go to sleep without hearing his voice but lately things had changed and you and Max often went to bed without exchanging any words at all. 

Once he finally made his way to your bedroom he wasn't surprised to find you were in fact asleep, clothes scattered around the room which you also hadn't bothered to clean up. Max sighed, he was tired having not really had a day of relaxation since the season ended despite imagining he'd spend his winter holidays differently, that things would somehow get better. 

He proceeded to pick up the room a little bit making it a little more presentable before taking a quick shower and joining you in bed. While his skin screamed to feel yours Max didn't feel comfortable enough to do so anymore, not knowing how you'd react to him placing an arm around you like he had done every night since you'd gotten together..until a few months ago. 

The next morning Max woke up to find you'd woken up but stayed laying there simply staring up at the ceiling, he knew your mind was spiraling but truly didn't want to ask anymore knowing you'd shut him out.  

"Hey," Max asked. His voice almost felt too loud for the silence. 

"Hi." Your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound almost strange to him not used to hearing it often anymore. 

"How d'you sleep?" Max asked. 

"I'm gonna go make breakfast for the girls." you ignored his question avoiding eye contact as you left the room leaving no more space for conversation. 

Once Max got himself ready for the day he went out to join you for breakfast finding you'd already eaten and were in the process of washing the dishes. He'd be lying if he said this didn't hurt him but held back from saying anything not wanting to start an argument. 

The rest of the day was mostly spent in silence apart from the laughter and ruckus from your children there were no words exchanged between you and Max. At some point, Max left the house once more wanting space. 

"Mama," Ivy called you as you played with both your daughters in the balcony. 

"Yeah, baby." Your daughters naturally made you smile, probably the only time you showed any sort of emotion lately. 

"Do you and Papa not love each other anymore?" She asked. 

Your heart skipped a beat, the immediate urge to cry reaching your throat and you only hoped your eyes gave no indication to the sudden burst of emotion. You noticed the way Lea's smile also dropped at the question, her attention ready to hear your answer. 

"Uhm, of course we do baby why would you think that?" You asked hoping your shaky voice didn't worry your daughters. 

"Papa doesn't blink at you anymore...like dis mama." Ivy showed you by blinking her eyes hard three times just like her father used to do to you almost daily before. 

The reminder of this almost broke you, you began picking up the girl's toys making sure they weren't able to see your face properly as you began crying. "You don't have to worry girls, everythings okay with Papa and me." You lied to your daughters, and it was evident by the weakness of your voice but you weren't sure what else to say. 

"Mama, are you okay?" Lea asked this time, her voice filled with concern, she was growing up, she of course noticed things, possibly understood things a little more than her sister and you knew you were hurting her, hurting them both and thought of this killed you inside. 

"I'm fine Lea, why don't you take your sister to your room and watch a movie, I'm gonna shower." You tried your best to force a smile wiping your eyes with the back of your hand before facing your older daughter. 

Lea simply nodded not wanting to cause you more distress before taking Ivy's hand and guiding her away. Once they were gone you let yourself cry it out. 

Trying and failing to conceive another child had been more emotionally draining than you had ever imagined it would be. You and Max had tried, tried, and tired to the point making love to him wasn't exciting anymore, it was frustrating, full of desperation, and so eventually, you stopped. You stopped trying, stopped connecting, stopped loving.  

Silence seemed like the easiest solution, not willing to face the reality of it all. Drowning in your own thoughts was exhausting but it seemed like the better option since potentially hearing the way you let down your partner, your family was worse. 

But it was obvious now, it was obvious how much this was already hurting your family so you had to toughen up now, muster enough strength to talk to Max, talk to your husband, and face whatever was next for you, whether good or bad it had to better than letting your daughters see the way things were falling apart between you. 

___________

Max once again came home to silence, he could hear the TV on in the girl's room and he didn't want to go to his room so instead decided to try to wrap up the presents in secret while he had the time. 

Max was semi-successful, his daughters had walked out of their room and been insistent on wanting to know what Max was doing despite him telling them several times to go back to their rooms and his patience was wearing thin. 

He was only able to get them to stay in their rooms after promising them a play date with their uncle Lando on the weekend if they behaved. Finally knowing they would stay in their rooms Max took the time to try to hide the gifts again so he could put them under the tree by the end of the month. 

He'd headed to the bathroom and when he came back anger and frustration flooded him at seeing Lea helping Ivy up to the counter to try to open the cupboard where he'd stashed the gifts. 

"LEA!" Max yelled letting his emotions control him for the first time with his daughters. 

Lea and Ivy both gasped and Max ran to catch Ivy who almost slipped off the counter trying to get down quickly. 

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING! WERE YOU EVEN THINKING!? YOUR SISTER COULD'VE GOTTEN HURT!" Max yelled at his older daughter. 

You heard the commotion from the room running out to check on the situation. "I WANT YOU BOTH IN YOUR ROOMS, NO TV, NO GAMES, GO STRAIGHT TO BED!" Max continued yelling. 

Both Ivy and Lea were in tears at seeing their dad so angry for the first time in their lives, running straight to their rooms. 

"Max calm down." Your heart broke, you knew Max was never like this with your daughters and it scared you to see this side of him come out, feeling partly guilty for it. 

"Oh wow...so now you decide to talk to me." Max scoffed pushing past you and into your room. 

Your heart broke at the action, but he was right. You knew he needed time to cool off so you headed to your daughter's room to check on them. 

Opening the door you had to try to hold back your own tears at the sight. Lea held Ivy in her arms as they both sobbed. You couldn't say anything to afraid to burst into tears so instead sat by your daughter's bed and hugged them both. 

"I-I-I'm so-so-sorry-ma-ma." Lea hiccuped not being able to catch her own breath at how much she cried. 

This time you felt a few tears run down your cheeks. "Hey baby it's okay." You took her face in your hands trying to soothe her. "Lea honey it's okay." You blew gently on your daughter's face trying to calm her down. 

"Pa-pa's- ang-angr-angry." she continued hiccuping. 

"I know darling he shouldn't have yelled like that baby. He loves you so much, we both do." You reminded her kissing her forehead. 

Eventually, Ivy had fallen asleep crying on her sister's lap so you picked her up and moved her to her bed tucking her in. You then went back to your older daughter who was having a little bit of a harder time settling down. 

"Lea listen sometimes people get angry at other things and they feel so angry for a long time that when something else happens they just blow up and scream." You tried your best to explain to your daughter. 

"Like papa?" She asked. 

"Yeah like Papa Baby, Papa's feeling a lot of things because of something else and unfortunately he just took it out on you." You revealed. 

Little did you know Max was listening from outside, after cooling off a little he felt bad and meant to go apologize to his daughters but stopped once he heard you inside with them. 

"But why?" Lea asked. "Why is papa angry mama?" Lea was almost 6, you knew she was starting to get a better grasp of things and you also knew being honest with her would be the best thing for her right now so after thinking about it for a few seconds you decided to just be honest with her. 

"Do you remember on Ivy's 2nd birthday when she wished for a brother?" You asked your daughter. 

"Yeah," Lea replied moving her head to look up at you. 

"Well your Papa and I after that, after talking a lot tried to make another baby..."Your voice broke. 

Max's heart broke at hearing you struggle to speak. 

"Well, we tried for a long time and Mama just couldn't get another baby in her tummy which made both Mama and Papa really really sad." You revealed. 

"Why won't the baby go in your tummy mama?" Lea asked innocently, reaching for her little hand to wipe some tears off your cheek. 

"I don't know baby, maybe mommy's broken." You were full-on crying but you could see your daughter's understanding eyes at the situation. 

"Is that why Papa doesn't say I love you with his eyes anymore?" Lea asked again, oblivious to the impact her question had on her parents. Max fell to his knees outside the room distraught at the guilt he could hear in your voice, and about the fact that his daughters and possibly you thought he didn't love you anymore. 

"I don't know honey...maybe. It's not easy when you want something really really bad and you just can't get it so it can make you feel a lot of things, mommy feels like it's her fault that the baby doesn't want to go in her tummy." You tried to finish explaining. 

"I'm sorry Mama." Lea apologized once more. "But even if you are broken mama I'll still love you the same, I'll even say it with my eyes if you want." Lea smiled imitating her dad by blinking her eyes I love you just like her dad used to do. 

This time your tears were of gratitude at feeling the love your daughter had for you, the simplicity with which her mind understood the situation and tried to make you feel better. "Thank you, baby." You hugged your daughter placing kisses on her cheek. 

Lea settled enough, feeling a little better at understanding why things had been a little weird at home lately. You watched her fall asleep. You took a deep breath ready to have a difficult conversation with your husband praying it might go a little similar to the conversation you had with your daughter. 

You walked out of their room and were surprised to find Max sitting outside, his back to the wall with his face in his hands. You could tell he'd been crying from the wet spots on his shirt and trousers. 

"Maxy." You fell to your knees beside him. 

Max pulled his hands away as you both wrapped your arms around each other at the same time. You both started crying in each other's arms, Max holding you tightly against him. 

"You're not broken, I never thought so either I just wanted you to talk to me." He whispered. "I love you so much and I'm sorry I ever let you doubt it, and I'm sorry for screaming at Ivy and Lea, I'm just- I'm so sorry for everything" Max cried tucking his face in the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I felt so useless and frustrated I couldn't get pregnant. I know how long you've been trying to hold it together for us, for all of us and I shouldn't have ever let you carry all of it on your own. I'm sorry too for everything."  You also apologized. "I love you, Max, I don't think I'll ever be able to stop loving you I just wanted to give us another baby." 

"I know." Max sighed pulling back and wiping tears from under your eyes with his thumbs. "Look I would love to have another baby with you, I'd have a 100 if it was with you but I'm so enamored by the family you've given me already, our girls...they're the best thing that have ever happened to me and if trying to have another baby is gonna cost us...us...than I don't want it." Max was honest. 

You nodded agreeing with his words. 

"It doesn't mean we stop trying, we can if that's what you want but I just want you back first, I need us to be okay before trying again okay?" He asked you. 

"Yeah." You agreed once more. 

Max rested his forehead against yours. You heard him take a deep breath. "God I missed you." he sighed before leaning down to place his lips against yours. 

You kissed him back harshly almost desperate to taste him again mentally questioning yourself how you were able to survive without this for as long as you did. "I love you," you whispered as you momentarily pulled away to catch your breath. 

But Max kept kissing you not wanting for this to stop, as if his body was trying to catch up on all the time he spent without your touch. "I love you." He whispered back scooping you into his lap, your legs wrapping around him as he stood up with you in his arms before taking you to your bedroom. 

Laying you down on your shared bed it once again felt right, being shared with him. Max was quick to get you naked, teasing you as he prepared you for him.

"I adore you." He whispered as he slipped into you. You'd be okay.

[notarmedandnotdangerous]

i know you’re planning on making bucky eventually dom reader

i just wanna ask if you could make a fic where we punish bucky into a drooling mess, forcing orgasms and everything (as a part of not:3)

i'm not planning to make it fully dom!bucky, cuz there's already so much content 💔 i got carried away with this idea, and kept expanding on it til i reached 10k words so.. i'll seperate it into a few parts, cuz 10k words all at once is not for the weak

+18 mdni! watch your mouth; a fic where bucky's your boss, and you're his secretary. he ends up getting himself into a lot of trouble with you.

cw: dom!m!reader, sub!bucky, somnophilia, overstimulation, bucky has a wet dream, delirious bucky, sleep deprived bucky, praising, use of 'sir', softness (??) at the end

word count: >3.6k

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9.1] [9.2]

!! @swiftie-fault

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

by the time bucky fell asleep, the world was spinning. his thighs ached, and his skin hot. his cock was flushed, and throbbing, untouched for hours because you didn’t let him. he had whimpered into the pillows, sprawled across your sheets, until sleep finally dragged him under.

but even in his sleep, he wanted.

the dream was hazy, all pressure, heat, and soft touches. he was dreaming that you had tied him up. he couldn’t see you in the dream, he could only feel you.

the bed dipped with weight, and a hand stroked up his thigh.

‘you don’t need to think, buck. not right now.’

he shivered in his sleep, legs shifting restlessly beneath the sheets.

‘you’re so good when you let go.’

bucky’s cock twitched in his sweats, already hard, and leaking. that voice, your voice, was closer now, firmer. he imagined a thumb brushing over the tip of his cock, and physically jolted. he gasped, legs parting slightly. he was drenched in the dream, all pulse, and sensation, lost in the submission.

then he whined, audibly this time.

---

it started as a sound.

you stirred in the dark, barely awake. you reached for your phone, it was 6 am.

the room was quiet, but not still. a whimper threaded through the silence again, and again. it was soft, breathy, and weirdly familiar.

“mmh- nnh..”

it was bucky.

you blinked slowly, turning your head towards him. moonlight spilled in through the curtains in soft slivers across the bed, just enough for you to make out the shape of his body beside you, flat on his back, legs splayed under the covers. you slid closer towards him, only to find him grinding against the sheets.

the movement was barely there, subtle, and desperate, as if he was trying to not wake you, even in his sleep.

“need.. it..” he mumbled in his sleep.

that got your attention.

you turn fully now, silently watching as bucky’s hips rolled with precision, a little sharper this time. a tiny, shaky moan slipped out from his lips as his tongue darted out to lick his lips.

bucky was dreaming, and so fucking needy in it.

you exhaled once through your nose, eyes half-lidded. you watched him rut against the sheets once more, then shifted the covers down, careful to not wake him. your hand trailed lightly up his thigh, pulling his sweats down just enough for his cock to spring out. when you finally wrapped your fingers around that pathetic, weepy cock of his, he gasps, but doesn’t wake up. instead, his hips jerk helplessly into your grip.

“so hard, even in your sleep. so desperate.”

your hand brushes over his cock, and he whined, letting out a small, pathetic sound.

“sir.. i.. mmgh.. sorry.” he moaned softly, too tired to move, yet too far gone to wake up. his hips shifted weakly, chasing your touch. he thought he was dreaming, no, he had to be. there was no way you would.

“you’re so good when you’re quiet like this, letting yourself be used without fighting.”

bucky whimpered, his whole body was boneless, and limp. you were in the dream, he thought vaguely, you had to be. because you wouldn’t be this gentle in real life. your hand around his cock stroked a little faster, and he moaned helplessly, head turning against the sheets.

he’s still dreaming, he doesn’t even realise what you’re doing to him.

“still dreaming, sweetheart?”

he mewled, not answering. he didn’t have words, not when he was asleep. his cock throbbed in your hand, overly sensitive from being teased in his sleep. your fingers stroked him with quiet patience, steady, and cruel.

in his dream, you were saying something about how pretty he was like this, but it was all muffled, dreamlike.

“you don’t even know this is real, do you?”

bucky moaned, hips rocking helplessly, but still caught up in his dream, not quite awake enough to process it all.

“i’m so tired, sir..” he whined.

“i know, but you’re still hard for me.”

it was true, his weepy cock was leaking all over your hands.

he moaned again, a high, fragile sound. his thighs shifted uselessly under the sheets, trembling with each slow drag of your hand on his cock. he was so hard, and so on edge that he couldn’t tell if the pressure on his cock hurt, or felt good, maybe both, but he didn’t have the capacity to know anymore.

“you’re such a mess, so wet.” you leaned down, and kissed his jaw. your hand kept moving, fingers slick with pre-cum as you dragged every drop of sensation out of his body. you kept the rhythm lazy, just enough to keep him in that floaty, dreamy headspace.

bucky whined into the mattress as his hips bucked. the dream hadn’t faded yet, your voice still echoed in his head, while the in-dream version of you, and the real you blurred together.

‘you want to be good for me, don’t you?’

his body answered for him, hips jerking at every slow pump of your hand, leaking steadily onto your fingers. he was so sensitive, as if his nerves were exposed.

you pulled the sheets away, fully this time. you pressed a kiss to his temples, and wrapped your hand back around the base of his cock, though just a little firmer this time.

��bet your whole body’s sore, all that tension from last night. poor thing couldn’t sleep, could you?”

bucky tried to shake his head, but gave up halfway. his mouth opened, but only a breath escaped. he was panting now, soft, and rhythmic, like a puppy.

you chuckled, and shifted, kneeling beside him. you spread his thighs with gentle pressure.

“you have no idea how much i love it when you’re like this.” you whispered into his ear. “so fucked out, tired, and dazed you can’t even talk.” your other hand came up to toy with his nipple, rolling it slowly, but with firm pressure in between your fingertips, all while your grip on his cock became more deliberate. you stroked, squeezed, and dragged your hand in all the right ways.

“mm.. haa..” a strangled moan slipped out of his throat, his whole body jolting away from the bed. he was close again, his spine arched, painfully almost, and a full-body shudder that made you pause just long enough to pull a desperate whimper out of him.

“you’re going to cum for me.” you spoke softly. “and i’m going to do it again, and again, until you’re too tired to grind on me like a needy little brat.”

bucky gasped as he came with a helpless cry. his cock twitched in your grip, his body completely at your mercy.

you didn’t stop, just kept stroking him through it, slow, yet cruel, keeping him right there.

“that’s it, you’re not done yet.”

his thighs trembled, while his body flinched from every single touch of your hand. he wasn’t sure how long it had been, he couldn’t think, or speak. he didn’t end up cumming a second time, you just drove him far enough for his brain to turn to mush.

the dream still clung to him like sweat. he felt wrung out already, he must’ve came already, hadn’t he? his whole body throbbed like he had, so why did it feel like this?

reality slammed into him like a wall.

‘oh fuck. fuck. i’m awake? that’s- that’s his hand.. on me.’

bucky’s eyes snapped open, the ceiling swam, his mouth parted, but no words came out, just a high, helpless sound that cracked into a moan.

‘he’s still going. didn’t even wait for me to wake up.’

‘i was dreaming. i thought i was dreaming? he was whispering, saying i’d be good for him.. had me tied down.. and now it’s real?’

the thought was disbelieving. your hand never slowed, just kept dragging stroke after stroke on his cock. his cock pulsed in your grip, overstimulated and so hard it fucking hurt.

“wa- wait..” he gasped, voice completely wrecked. he couldn’t even breathe right.

you didn’t answer, didn’t need to. you kneeled beside him on the bed, calm yet cruel. his whole body jolted when you circled the tip with your thumb again, dragging out another spill of pre-cum.

his cock should’ve been soft by now, it wasn’t though.

“fucking- fuck..” he sobbed against the sheets, the aftershocks hitting him like electricity. he was awake now, but you weren’t letting up.

you were using it, taking advantage of his morning sensitivity, the rush of testosterone still thick, making every touch feel sharper, heavier, and harder to endure.

bucky wasn’t going to last, no fucking way he could. you knew exactly how to make it worse for him. the way you pressed your thumb under the tip, the slow twist of your wrist.

‘did he even let me sleep? was i dreaming at all?’

‘he just keeps pushing my thighs apart, as if it’s nothing.’

‘he’s making me think i belong here, shaking in his hold, whining, cock soaked, and twitching in his hand like a toy.’

‘at least i’m his toy..’

his stomach clenched, and his legs splayed wider, as if he was admitting defeat.

“took you long enough.” you leaned in, voice low beside his ear.

bucky’s panting now, his chest rises, and falls in quick, shallow bursts, fingers clutching weakly at the sheets.

‘i already came.. my cock, fuck, it hurts. there’s no way i can-’

your hand slid up, slowly, tracing a tight circle around the tip that makes him jolt violently. a whimper escaped him before he can swallow it down.

“f-fuck.” he gasps. his hips twitch, but you pressed your other hand into his thigh, holding him down with firm pressure. he shudders under it, whining lowly.

‘he’s going to keep doing it. i can’t- can’t handle another one. it’s too much.’

it felt like pressure in bucky’s spine, like every nerve of his is on fire. he keeps twitching in your grip, wet, and overstimulated, his mouth hanging open, barely making any coherent noises.

‘i should ask him to stop.’

he doesn’t.

because you’re looking at him like that, in that sickly sweet, yet condescending way, like this is exactly what he deserves for grinding on you the night before. he had wanted this, and now you’re giving it to him, just slightly meaner.

even now, even when it’s too much.

bucky lets out a choked-out noise when your thumb slides under the tip, pressing just right, and his whole body spasms.

“ah- fuck, fuck, i-” his voice cracks into a sob, hands going slack against the mattress. his body jerks again, hips twitching up, uselessly trying to escape your touch. he doesn’t say it, doesn’t beg for you to stop.

‘i should ask him to stop.’

‘but if i do, he might actually stop.’

‘but i don’t want him to.’

‘not if he’s going to stop looking at me like that.’

‘not if it means i don’t get to feel this.’

another stroke.

bucky’s hips jump, and his eyes roll back. his cock twitches again, it was too soon. there was no way he’d be able to cum again. he can’t, but he’s going to.

and you knew it.

he whined in a weirdly high pitch. and then he came again. there was no warning, just a wrecked, ruined sob as his cock jerked in your hand, oversensitive and hot.

and you didn’t stop.

bucky doesn’t say anything. he can’t. his lips parted, eyes unfocused, chest trembling with every shallow breath that he took, and your voice pours in again.

“you’ll keep going for me, won’t you?”

he moans, just barely. the motion was jerky.

you stroked him once.

his entire body jumps as if he just got electrocuted. a strangled noise escaped him, half-sob, half moan.

‘it’s too- too much.’

‘but it’s him.. it’s- fuck, fuck.’

another stroke, and he can’t stop shaking. his thighs twitch open wider, while his cock leaked against your fingers, dripping like it’s trying to apologise for how greedy it’s being.

‘i already- did i? i came- didn’t i?’

‘feels like.. like..’

another swipe of your thumb over bucky’s tip, and he wails, hand holding onto your bicep. he can’t tell if he’s begging you to stop, or to keep going. his brain is gone, all the thoughts crashing into each other like waves.

‘i can’t- can’t.. ’

‘it feels- i don’t.. know’

‘hurts.. so good..’

“you’re doing so well.” you said with a gentle voice, as if you aren’t slowly destroying him, as if you weren’t dragging him towards another orgasm with the same slow pressure that makes him forget his own name. “just like that, let me take care of you.”

all he did was just moan, weirdly high-pitched, hips jerking forward as his body answers for him.

‘his voice, fuck.’

‘wait- i can’t.. can’t think.’

‘please.. don’t stop. he- he can’t stop. not right now.’

another stroke, slow and sure, and bucky’s breath catches while his body coiled tight. his thighs keep twitching, opening wider, and wider. his cock pulses, and throbs in your hand, flushed, and leaking as if it was trying to catch up.

‘is this- fuck?’

‘already? did i-‘

‘did i cum?’

‘no way. i.. i don’t’

your thumb rolls over the tip again, and he mewled. he doesn’t know if he was begging or thanking you now. his brain is gone, just static, just warmth, and your hand dragging him closer to something he doesn’t have a name for anymore.

‘fuck- fuck, i can’t.. can’t..’

‘so.. warm..’

that’s the only thing bucky’s body could register, warmth. it was sudden, flooding through his chest, all the way down to his toes, and spreading like a wave. he doesn’t even realise what it is, only that it’s soft, and full, makes his back arch without permission.

‘what was that..?’

he twitches. his cock pulses in your grip, but the connection’s gone. all he knows is that something hit him, and he’s dizzy from it.

“that’s it, baby, i’ve got you.”

he shudders all over, his skin is so tender, his muscles feel like jelly.

‘still.. going?’

another stroke, wet, and slow, and he mewls.

‘did i..?’

‘did he make me..?’

‘i didn’t even- fuck.’

bucky’s crying now, he doesn’t even know when that started. his thoughts are crashing into each other in loops.

‘please, please, i don’t- don’t..’

‘hurts so good but- fuck, fuck..’

his body keeps giving, even if his mind can’t make sense of it anymore.

he sobbed, it wasn’t loud, wasn't clear. it’s just this cracked, helpless sound that slipped from his mouth. he lifts his hand, barely, and with shaky fingers, he reaches for your wrist, closing his hand around it. he doesn’t tug, doesn’t try to stop you, just held onto it, like he didn’t know what else to do.

his thumb brushed over your skin, the touch was featherlight, his grip barely there.

‘please.’

please what? he doesn’t even know anymore.

everything feels the same now, pleasure, and pain blurred together to the point that he didn’t know where they ended. he opens his mouth to speak.

“mmm- ah- s..” and then a gasp, a cry.

your hand strokes again, slick, and steady.

bucky’s entire body arched, he didn’t even know he could cum again. he doesn’t know if he just did. it’s all just heat, and wet.

‘i can’t..’

‘but it’s.. it’s him.’

‘he’s touching me.. like i wanted..’

his grip on your wrist tightens slightly, as much as he’s capable of. his lips form another shape, but it’s not a word, just a soft, broken sound.

you leaned in closer, your hand slipping under his jaw, and tilting his face towards yours.

“shh, you’re okay.”

‘am i?’

‘i don’t know, i don’t-’

“i’ve got you.”

the bedroom was quiet now.

bucky was still trembling in your arms, flushed, lashes damp with leftover tears. he feels as if he just had his soul ripped out, then forcefully returned, boneless in a way that only comes after being completely wrung out over, and over again. he barely remembers anything, just the heat, and the ache of it. his eyes are barely open, glassy, and unfocused.

now, you’re holding him close, a warm palm rubbing lazy circles along his back.

“you’re alright. did so well, baby.”

he makes a choked sound in response, he can’t quite form words yet.

“easy now, don’t have to move.” you didn’t expect him to answer, instead you reach for the damp cloth he brought earlier, and begins to carefully clean his thighs, and stomach.

bucky’s fingers twitched, as if he was searching for something.

you grabbed them, and squeezed gently.

“i’m here.”

once he was clean, you shifted him, gently, and slowly, onto his side, and curled around him. your arm draped over his waist, while you pressed soft, grounding kisses to his shoulder.

“still with me?”

he let out a tiny, broken exhale.

“can’t speak yet? that’s alright.” you spoke, while rubbing soft circles into his back.

bucky’s skin was warm, and sticky with sweat, but pliant. his body was pliant, like a puppet with its strings cut.

you don’t rush, just let him feel safe. every now, and then, he makes a soft noise, his breath catching as the last tremors ease out of him. when you speak again, it’s a whisper meant just for him.

“you were so good, such a good boy.”

a broken sound escaped his throat once more, and you soothed him.

“that was too much for one morning, wasn’t it? maybe that was a little cruel.”

he nodded into the pillow.

you shift just enough to grab the glass of water from the bedside table, then pressed the rim to his lips. then, you set the glass down. you let him stay wrapped around you for a little longer.

when bucky finally shifts, blinking slowly up at you with sleep-heavy eyes, you kiss his forehead.

“you ready to get up?”

he gives you a small, almost reluctant nod.

you sit up first, helping him slip into a soft t-shirt, and ease boxers over his shaky legs.

the both of you move slowly into the kitchen.

bucky’s trailing behind you, fingers curled into the hem of your shirt, as if he needed the contact to ground himself. he sat quietly, watching with wide, glassy eyes as you cooked. there was something soft, and vulnerable in his expression. he was completely blissed out, and now he’s drowning in euphoria.

‘how does he ruin me, take me apart until i don’t know my own name, and then turn around, and treat me like i’m something fragile, like i’m worth tending to, like i’m worth feeding.’

‘he’s the same person who made me cry, and now he’s watching over scrambled eggs like they’re fucking sacred.’

‘he scares me more than he thinks he does.’

by the time you set a plate in front of him, he’s already sitting up more upright. his fingers still trembled when he picked up the fork, but he manages a small bite.

“you okay?” you ask softly.

bucky nodded, chewing softly.

“yeah..” he cleared his throat. god, his voice was so hoarse it was embarrassing. “just.. floaty.”

you grinned, brushing your knee against his underneath the table.

the both of you ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, until you break it with a glance at your phone.

“so we’re back to work tomorrow. you’ll have to go back home.”

“don’t remind me.” bucky groaned.

“we should talk about cues. for the office, i mean. can’t have you going glassy-eyed every time i go into your office.”

“i do not go glassy-eyed whenever i see you.” he muttered, face heating up.

“you got flustered when i stood behind your chair.” you raised a brow.

“you were breathing down my neck, of course i would be flustered!”

“right.. so we need a system.”

bucky swallows a mouthful of orange juice, and props his chin in his hand.

“okay.. something subtle?”

“mhm.” you nodded. “non-verbal, if possible.”

“i.. can’t think of anything.”

“i wonder why.” you joked. “no ‘sir’, no hesitation, don’t act different.”

“what if i mess up?”

“you won’t. but in the event that you do, you’ll find out just how creative i can be with office furniture.”

bucky almost whimpered at the sheer thought of it.

“okay, if i call you by your last name, that’s neutral. if i use your first name, that’s cue for.. you know.” your hand slides along his arm, and he twitches.

“and if i call you into my office, and say it’s about a ‘performance review’, that’s a command.”

“great. i’m never surviving this.” he sighed, thinking about just how difficult tomorrow would be.

“you’ll live.” you took a slow sip of your coffee. “tap of the pen means you’re reacting too much.”

“so.. no obvious reactions.”

“if i say ‘check the printer’?” you asked.

“uh.. bathroom?”

“which means?”

“you.. want me to meet you there..?”

you nodded.

“if i ask for your schedule, that means you need to stop squirming. and if i fix my sleeves while looking at you, you stop what you’re doing immediately.”

bucky nodded.

by the end of the discussion, the both of you had finished breakfast in contentment.

[9.2]

[fishbonex]

The uncertainty of coexistence

Ambessa Medarda x fem!reader

Summary: Can a warrior become the object of her general's affection?

Warning: mentions of war, typical canon violence, big age difference (reader is in her 20s and Ambessa is in her 50s), power imbalance

Word Count: 1,5K

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

To be born in Noxus was to be certain that one way or another you would end up on the battlefield. Without knowing the reason or purpose, a Noxian would do what your generals told you to do. To honor your blood and ancestry. It was better to be a warrior than a slave or a prostitute. That's what you think, at least.

You had never been to war, though. It had been less than three years since you had become a warrior. Because you were inexperienced, the higher-ranking officers were more harsh on you and the younger ones.

The training sessions led by Rictus were tiring, but they were intended to prepare you for the imminent war that your general was preparing.

Your general, Ambessa Medarda. Lady of War. You had only seen her up close a few times, but it was enough for you to know that she was impressive.

You turned your attention back to what you were doing when you felt a strong blow to your ribs, making you gasp and fall to the ground. Shooting a irritated look at Carissa, your friend and training partner, you stood up, grabbing your stick.

"We're not at war yet and I'm not the enemy, you don't need to use so much force." you complained.

"I didn't use much force." she smiled smugly. "You're weak."

You almost raised your eyebrows at her teasing, then looked out of the small training cabin, seeing Rictus distracted with his runic tablets. Taking the opportunity, you ran and threw yourself at Carissa, making a dry noise on the floor, then tried to grab her hands, which proved difficult as she began to struggle, the smug look still present on her smiling face.

"Do you surrender?" you asked, letting out a low chuckle. She let out a louder chuckle when you managed to grab one of her hands.

Distracted by your play, you didn't notice the familiar sound of heavy boots behind you, at the entrance to the cabin.

"It gives me great pleasure to see the youth of Noxus rejoice in being a part of my army." the authoritative voice spoke, causing both of you to freeze momentarily.

Quickly standing up, you lowered your head, looking down at your bare feet on the wooden floor, you saw Carissa doing the same out of the corner of your eye.

"General." you both spoke at the same time, your voices sounding shaky.

Ambessa walked in, approaching and stopping near the two of you, her heavy presence silencing the entire room. She exuded a dark power without having to do anything.

"Don't stop, go back to playing, we have plenty of time." she spoke again, her voice vibrating closer. "Isn't it?"

You swallowed hard, your hands starting to sweat. Ambessa was known for her determination and violence, she had no patience for mistakes and distractions. A thought about that ran through your head and made you breathe heavily.

She walked a few steps, starting to circle around the two of you. She stopped next to Carissa and tilted her head down.

"Out," she ordered, her voice sounding colder.

Carissa swallowed and nodded, leaving without another word. Ambessa walked a few more steps, stopping in front of you, making you feel smaller than ever, in every way.

You felt your face being held and lifted by a large hand, Ambessa looked at you for a moment before letting go of your chin.

"You looked intimate the way you were riding her." she spoke again. "I suppose I don't need to advise you on the hazards of professional entanglements."

"I sincerely apologize, General. It won't happen again." you said, your voice sounding small.

Ambessa looked down from above, let out a satisfied sigh, and left.

You grunted as you delivered two consecutive blows with the blade to the inanimate doll's neck. Carissa was no longer your training partner. Now you trained individually in the training room that had the worn-out wooden dolls.

Sighing, you pulled out the large blade of the knife that had stuck in the wood. As you stepped away to stab the doll in the stomach, you heard the door open and heavy footsteps enter the training room, followed by the deep voice you had heard from very close by a few days before.

"Haven't they ever told you not to stand with your back to the door?" Ambessa asked and you turned in time to see her pick up one of the large knives that was laid out on a table in the corner.

She wore her training clothes, the sports bra that showed off her toned belly, her arms covered by cloth armbands.

You straightened your posture and tilted your head slightly, "General."

"Leave the doll alone, let's see if you can land your blows on me." she ordered, approaching you.

"Pardon?" you frowned, confused.

"I don't like repeating myself, child," she said, her voice heavier this time. "Fight me."

You swallowed hard, knowing you couldn't disregard her orders. Biting your lower lip in insecurity, you advanced on her, moving the blade in the strokes you were used to making.

All to be knocked to the ground in almost the same second, the blade being ripped from your hand.

"You’re sloppy and predictable. Everything the enemy expects.” Ambessa hovered above you, holding both blades in her hands. “You’ll die the second you step foot in the war.”

She threw the blades to the ground and pulled you up by your arm, before starting to randomly strike you with her hands, making you put your hands in front of your body to defend yourself.

She pulled one of your arms and raised her body, passing her legs over you, hitting your face with her right foot. You fell again, feeling your nose bleed.

Training with her continued for weeks. Weeks where you felt anxious whenever the time to see her approached. At one point, you longed to be near her, her body heavy on yours when she pinned you to the ground while teaching.

Learning from a war veteran proved to be rewarding, as you improved and improved a lot. But no reward compared to seeing her almost every day.

As unbelievable as it may seem, Ambessa was patient at one point, her voice softening as she taught you something you didn't already know.

This made your heart beat faster.

Your breathing was faster and you could feel your lungs burning, but you couldn't stop. Ambessa's blows didn't slow down, she advanced violently towards you. Using one of your legs to unbalance her, you used the tip of the spear to make a tiny cut on her cheekbone, making her freeze for a moment.

Realizing what you had done, you opened your mouth to speak and reached out your hand towards her, who stood up on her own and walked towards you, leaving almost no space.

"General, what-" your words were cut off as she brought her large hands to either side of your face and bent over you, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss.

You brought them to her shoulders, sliding them down to the sides of her face. She gave light bites to your jaw and chin as she pulled away from your lips.

"You have a lot of courage for someone your size," she said without pulling away. "You've proven yourself worthy."

"I want you to be proud of me." you blurted out without thinking properly.

She let out a deep laugh and pulled away, taking the heat of her body away from you.

"You left a scar on me, that is honorable," she said, pulling the gold piercing from her lower lip. "Someone honorable should wear a symbol, a symbol that shows they are on my side."

She approached you again and fitted the gold piece to your lower lip, running one of her thick fingers over it.

After that day, you no longer stood among the other warriors. Ambessa allowed you to walk beside her, as Rictus. You proudly wore the gold piercing on your lower lip.

At the moment, on her orders, the army was moving from the fixed base to Viktor's hideout, crossing the unguarded bridge that connected the Noxian installations to the rest of Piltover. Of course she wasn't going to blend in.

You turned your face and looked down, seeing how far the bridge was from the water. A fall wouldn't kill, but drowning was imminent.

You turned your attention forward when you felt Ambessa's large hand on your waist, making you look at her with a frown, to which she continued with the same stoic expression as always, looking forward.

Suddenly, you felt the thud on your legs and your body being thrown out of the limits of the bridge, the only thing that kept you from falling was the large hand that held only one of yours.

Eyes wide with surprise and despair you looked up, finding Ambessa's sharp eyes staring at you coldly. She didn't say anything for a moment, the sound of the water below was the only thing present, as the army had stopped marching.

"What-" you groaned, feeling your arm start to ache, your legs swinging slightly. "Please."

"I warned you of the hazards of professional entanglements." she said simply, her voice devoid of any emotion.

You froze, feeling your chest hurt. But of course. How could you have been so stupid?

A warrior does not grow like this in the eyes of their general.

With your delay in responding, Ambessa stared at you for a while longer before pulling you up, leaving you hanging on your own, struggling to climb up the bridge.

When you managed to get up, you were breathing quickly, your heart was beating fast and she had already started walking again, with her army following her.

[littleappleorchard]

Bad habits die hard (Pt.2)

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Summary: Caleb drinks away his sorrows and realizes he's an idiot. He goes to make amends with his baddie.

Image: credit @aerosarrow (This fic was based on this lovely image. I love our puppy boy)

Author notes: See, I'm kind and didn't make you all wait for too long. :). Actually proofread :P

Part 1

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Caleb was drunk…VERY drunk.

He was normally not the type to drink, let alone drink away his problems. But desperate time called for desperate measures.

After leaving the house and away from the fight that occurred, Caleb walked down the streets of Skyhaven. He could’ve drove, but he didn’t know what his plan was or what state he might return in, so he chose to go on foot. Plus, it was a good way to relieve the bubbling emotions swirling in his chest.

God, how had such a great day spiraled into him being in the metaphorical trenches of his relationship?

He HATED it. He HATED the hurt and anger that showed on your face once he confessed to the crash. He HATED your sense of trust in him fraying. But worst of all, he HATED that you didn’t trust him enough to know what he was doing. At least that was what it felt like.

He ended up finding a bar a few blocks down, where he plopped down on a stool and ordered a shot. This continued until he had ingested seven more shots, even mixing his alcohol between bourbon and tequila over the span of an hour.  The man was utterly fucked, laying his head down on the bar with his arms resting on both sides of him like a halo. He lifted his head, looking to his side where his last shot glass remained. His vision was shaky and warped, with the shapes and colors of his surroundings blending together.

Big, bad Colonel Caleb, one of the best pilots of his generation, a man who commanded hundreds of men, someone who defied death to protect the one he loved most, lay in a drunken heap, whimpering to himself that his pipsqueak no longer loved him.

Let's be honest here, when Caleb gets insecure and/or anxious, the man is the personification of a beaten golden retriever.

He was pitying himself, and he knew it. But he didn’t want to admit he was wrong.

He just wanted to protect you, damn it! He never wanted you to see a moment of sadness. To see pain flashing in those precious eyes of yours. But he had, and he was the cause.

...Did you have a point, though?

He moved his hand slightly to trace the rim of the shot glass softly, while thinking about what you said.

In all honesty, Caleb rarely did think about himself. It was just second-nature to him at this point. When he did, it was in correlation to you. The feeling you rose in him, trying to improve his health again so he could return to you, rising to the rank of colonel so he had the power to protect you. It was never simply about him, and he liked it that way. Because without you, he was nothing. His sole purpose was to be there for you. At least in his mind.

But...there were times when he was all alone- sitting with his thoughts- that he let the weight of his life finally settle on him, like a lead blanket.

He was just so…tired.

The man had gone through hell and back multiple times, and he was afraid that if he just stopped for a moment, he would fall apart and not be able to start again.

He feared of setting any of his burdens on you. Of you seeing his flaws. Because once you did, you would realize that he wasn’t invincible, that he was just simply…a man. You were given to him to protect. He had vowed to do so from the moment your little hand held onto his, like he was the only thing keeping you grounded in this world.

He couldn’t be weak for your sake.

That was what he thought…until now.

He thought of your face from only an hour ago. The honesty you were asking of him. And for the first time, it seemed, Caleb considered that maybe you want to see him crumble. You wanted to see the raw, jagged edges that made up his soul. You simply wanted to see him…for him. And that fact shook him to his core.

He rarely even touches that part of himself; he avoids it so he doesn’t have to deal with it. Was he doing the same thing to you? Keeping you at a distance so you didn’t see his failings?

It was at that moment that Caleb realized what a complete fool he had been. He groaned into his arm, cursing himself for the pain he caused you. He was still fucked up, but he needed with every fiber in his being was to be next to you in that moment.

So, with that, your puppy of a man lifted himself from the bar, head spinning from the copious amounts of alcohol he drank and start to search for his wallet.

After a few failed attempts, he grabbed a few bills and threw them on the counter as he drunkenly stumbled to the door to return to you.

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You had a long night.

After Caleb had left, you broke down. You cried on the kitchen floor for what felt like an hour, finally letting loose the torrent of emotion that had gradually been building up with each hidden item Caleb had kept from you since your reunion, or maybe even before. You weren't sure.

But what you did know was that things couldn’t keep going as they had been.

You eventually got off the floor and took a small shower to refresh yourself. You did your skincare and got into some comfy clothes to get the comfort you needed. You had stolen one of Caleb’s favorite hoods that engulfed your frame. It smelled like him...

You miss that idiot, your idiot.  

You sigh to yourself as you head for the kitchen to get something to eat and drink. You might be in turmoil, but you weren’t going to stop taking care of yourself due to that. You wanted to feel your feelings in their entirety and work through them, while providing the nourishment your body needed. You wanted to face your problems head-on. It's been one of the big things you've learned over the past few years.

Something you learn from Caleb…

You just wished he would do the same for himself.

Caleb had just finished dinner when the fight broke out, leaving the food untouched. You had placed it in containers for later when you got hungry. Now, grabbing them from the fridge, you open the container to place some on a plate to warm up.

Waiting, you grabbed a glass of water to drink. Just as it was about to touch your lips, you heard a big thump from outside, making you pause.

You hear the jingling of keys and scraping against the lock as someone is desperately trying to and failing to open the door.

Just as you were about to put down your glass and walk over to see what the commotion was, Caleb came stumbling in.

For a second, you just look at him in shock. His appearance is disheveled, with a corner of his shirt slipped out of his pants, shirt wrinkled, and some of his hair sticking up.

Caleb somehow was able to find his way home. Not without the occasional obstacle standing in his way though. Poor baby bonked his head on a stop sign trying to cross the road, since he’s vision was still slightly blurred.

Currently, said man looks up at you through his long lashes. Once he's fully upright, Caleb just stares at you with big, wide eyes. The soft light from the kitchen reflects off his irises, illuminating both the shades of purple and slight bits of tangerine. Your own personal summer sunset is staring back at you.

Wonderstruck is written all over his face, as a dusty pink covers his cheeks. He looks as if he’s seen something divine and about to fall to his knees and pray at your feet.

Your boy looked…..absolute adorable.

It felt as if one of those cartoon heart arrows had just shot through your heart. He really was the cutest. And for a second, it made you forget about the earlier events of the night.

That was until Caleb hiccupped... and giggled.

It hit you then…..your boyfriend was drunk. Completely shit-faced drunk.

It shocked you, not only because it was rare for Caleb to drink, but even rarer for him to get plastered as he was now. You could count on one hand the number of other times you’ve seen your boyfriend like this.

Irritation hit you again tonight, knowing now you’ll have to deal with a drunk Caleb.

Another moment passed until you broke the silence, shaking Caleb out of his one-sided staring contest.

“Caleb, are you drunk right now?” You ask, leaning into the island counter.

Another moment goes by until he replies, “Nooo?” His face flushed even more, now covering his whole face.

You let out a heavy sigh as your brows scrunch together and your face falls into an annoyed pout.

Seeing your ire, your boy audibly lets out a whimper, looking like a kicked puppy.

This was going to be a long night….

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You had gone over to Caleb to assess the damage. The whole time, he was still staring at you, eyes wide and pupils dilated. The adoration shining in them was making it hard to stay mad at him.

You managed to get his jacket off him, but damn, it was like trying to get a leaf off the highest branch of a tree. Having a giant for a boyfriend, especially a drunk one, was not helping make your life easier.

Huffing, you look over your shoulder and say to him,

“Follow me, let’s get you some water.”

You made your way over to the kitchen, while Caleb followed in a daze.

You were just so….so pretty. He couldn’t quite remember why he had come home in a rush or what he was going to say to you. But god, was he grateful he did. Because he had you standing in front of him.

The things this man would let you do to him only if you asked. If he could get on his knees in front of you every day, he would. He was meant to worship -because you were his heaven, his goddess. You made his brain stop working, and he was fine with that.

You were moving around in the kitchen when he finally reached and leaned against the island. You had remembered by now about your forgotten food in the microwave. So you set it to reheat for another few minutes.

You open a cabinet and are reaching for a glass when suddenly you feel an engulfing weight press up against your back, while two arms wrap around your waist, and a head plopping in the dip of your neck.

You hear a loud sniff coming from your neck and then a contented sigh.

You pause for a moment before turning your head to look at the man now clinging to your body like a koala.

“Caleb..”

“Mhmmm”

“You need to let go of me so I can get this glass.”

You feel his hair shake as he rubs his head into your shoulder.

“Noo.” he pouts.

You sign and try again, going on your tip toes, swatting your fingers until you grab the glass you desired, all while Caleb stay put at your side.

You set it down on the counter for now as you rotate in Caleb’s hold. You push your hands gently against his chest, prying him from your body.

He lets out another whine, a pout evident on his face as he looks down at you.

You spin him around and start pushing him towards one of the stool situated next to the island to sit on.

Once seated, he’s looking at you with those damn eyes again, almost making you crumble, but you steel yourself. You have to stay strong, remember!

“Stay!” you say sternly, pointing your finger at him. It was no different from an owner telling their dog off.

Caleb whines once more as you turn around and go towards the glass again. You open the fridge for the water pitcher and pour some into the glass. You then go to another cabinet to grab some painkillers.

You may have fought, but you don’t want him to have a bad hangover.

Returning, you slide the water glass in front of him and hold out your hand.

“Take these, they will help with tomorrow.”

To say the alcohol was hitting him harder presently was an understatement. All Caleb wanted to do was stare at you, hug you, and touch you.

“I don’t wanna.” He slurred.

“Caleb, you need to take these or you’re going to feel like shit in the morning.” You huffed.

“I donna careee, I just want you pipppsquek.” He whined while holding up his hand in front of you, making a grabbing motion.

You huffed once more, marching into his reach. You lift up his chin with one hand, making him look you in the eyes.

“open your mouth, now.”

He looks at you with wide eyes, while obeying your command.

You take the pills in your hand and place them in his mouth and make him close it. You then grab the water beside you and place it to his lips. “Drink”.

He does as you say and gulps all the water in the glass.

After he is done, you place the water back down.

He looks at you for a moment before grabbing you into his embrace. His head was in the crook of your neck again.

“Do you hate me, pipsqueak?” He slurs into your shoulder.

You look down at him, your brow knitting together in annoyance and sighing for what feels like the millionth time tonight.

“No…but you did hurt me.” You reply.

“I’m sorry” He lifts his head, looking at you with pain in his big eyes.

“It’s okay, but now isn’t the time to talk about this. You’re too drunk.” You say, stroking his hair.

But Caleb wanted to! It's the reason he had come home in the first place. He needed to make things right.

“noo, we should. I was being an idiot, and I didn’t wanna admit you were right.”

You look down at him in shock.

You were not expecting that from him.

“I don’t want you to see me as weak.” He whispers, almost as if he’s ashamed.

“A-and if you saw me hurt, how could I protect you? That’s all I’m good for.” his voice wobbles.

You pause, going rigid at his touch.

Fuck…is that what he thought of himself?

 “I-I don’t know how to let you take care of me..” He turns his head on your shoulder.

“I’m afraid…afraid you won’t want me anymore if you see me weak.” At this point you felt your shoulder get wet as you saw his eyes tearing up.

You think you felt your heart stop.

You were frozen to your spot as shock rippled through you like the impact of a stone rippling in a pond. You felt pressure building behind your own eyes. Pain squeezed your chest, constricting enough to the point it was making it hard to breathe. The lump in your throat had returned twofold.

You were heartbroken…utterly devastated that this is what he thought.

Both for yourself and the man you cherish like no other.

You raised both your hands to his face, cupping his precious cheeks as you guided him to look at you.

The sight you caught made your breath hitch.

His face was still red, but accompanying it were tearful eyes, and his puffy lips pushed together. Your guys' eyes locked -he looked like a trembling puppy.

“Don’t you dare ever think that,” you choked out.

“I love you no matter what, Caleb. I choose to love you. All sides of you, including the ones that are flawed.” You smiled at him tearfully.

“I want to take care of you because you're precious to me. I want to be there when you need me. I want you to feel comfortable coming to me. Because I’ll never judge you for that.”

“You’re so hard on yourself! You're allowed to be human too, baby. You're allowed to feel your feelings, the good and the bad. But most importantly, for yourself!” You say as one of your thumbs brushes away a stray tear that left Caleb’s eye.

Caleb didn’t know what to say. What to think. Or even really how to breathe then.

Your declaration finally hit him. Something within him broke, shattering into a million pieces. The damn holding all the emotion he had been shoved away came tumbling out now.

First was the shaking.

Then the tears and shaky breaths.

The man you loved so deeply and for so long released a loud sob.

Your baby was sobbing. Sobbing for the hurt he caused you, sobbing for past mistakes. But most of all, he was sobbing for the little boy deep down in him that was still in that lab.

It all finally came out. Every neglect, every silent moment, any time he felt completely alone in this world. He finally let it all out in your arms.

And you just held him through it.

After a few minutes, he calmed down, sobs turning into small sniffs and stray tears.

You pull his face closer to you, kissing them away and all over his face to show him your love.

Pulling away, you look at him. He looks back at you through puffy eyes.

You smile softly, “Well, that was a start”.

He opens his eyes to look at you for a moment. Then a single laugh bubbles up from his chest.

You both stare at each other again until you both burst into laughter. You just couldn't stop.

After all the events of the night, the irony was hitting you. You got what you wanted, you supposed.

After you both settle down, Caleb pulls you closer to him (if that’s even possible).

“I love you”. He whispers against your lips.

“I love you, too idiot.”

You pull him forward into a soft and loving kiss as your lips gladed over each other.

It had been a long night, and you both were tired. But regardless, you both didn’t regret it. Your relationship had a long way to go, but this was a start. A beautiful shared start.

And by all the powers of the deep space tunnel, that was good enough for you.

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(I hoped you liked it! There were a lot of feelings and emotions I wanted to capture, but it can be hard to put them in writing. I don't know if it was any good, but I loved writing it. I tried. Share your thoughts in the comments!)

[bumblehoneybee]

I saw you take requests and I was soo happy!! I rlly loved that “easy smiles” Drabble u wrote abt curly n reader, so I’d like to request (pre-crash) having a late night conversation with him where reader is getting burnt out/struggling mentally and he can kind of tell? Romantic/platonic r both fine, maybe js some comfort from our fav captain? :) augehghh i want a hug from him so bad. if u don’t feel like writing this that’s more than okay, have a great timezone!! <3

You Can Talk To Me

He doesn't mean to catch you in such a vulnerable moment.

Curly only meant to get some water after hitting the john, but as he shuffles into the lounge, all he can hear is your shaky breathing. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, heart picking up speed as he spots you sat on the couch with your head tilted over the back, staring up at the ceiling.

You only notice him when he calls your name, stood at the edge of the couch.

"Ah," you snap your head up, obviously twinging the muscles of your neck, "oof." You rub the knots out, flashing a weak smile for Curly as he settles onto the couch next to you. "Aha. . . hi, Captain."

"Are you okay?" Curly asks, hands raised and unsure of what to do. Anya is asleep, and he's no real doctor himself, so the options for immediate help are limited.

"Oh, I'm fine." You waft your free hand at him. The lights of the fake window douse your skin in an almost sickly color, like all the blood is gone from your face. Your eyes look dull too. "Just, y'know. . ."

There's a long pause. Seems you can't think of anything to make an excuse out of.

Curly sits next to you, and tries to think. You've always been so. . . jolly, quick with jokes and ideas to lighten the mood. He knows you can't always be happy, but he's never been privy to the moments when your guard falls. This is a first for him, and he's surprisingly nervous.

He's comforted most everyone on this ship. He knows how to do it. So why does the thought of comforting you and doing it wrong scare him so much?

"You know. . ." Curly starts, frantically grasping at the words that are usually so easy. "I know it may seem. . . unprofessional, since I'm technically your boss-"

"You're captain." You agree with a nod that you immediately regret. The rubbing gets faster.

Curly huffs at you, burying amusement under concern. "You can talk to me. I'm higher up, but I'm not one of them." He gestures to the nearest poster of Polle. You shoot the horse a glare on instinct, but your face is quick to fall. "I just want you safe and happy."

The quiet returns, and with it his offer hangs heavy over the two of you. You stare down at your lap, hand still loosely clinging to your neck. Curly tries not to stare at you, but god, your eyes just look so. . . sad.

He wishes he could take your hand, show you he's here for you. But that wouldn't be smart, would it?

A heavy sigh rushes out of your nose. "I guess I'm just getting a little tired." Your face pinches as you say it, so Curly lets you piece your words together. "It gets repetitive, y'know? Everything is the same, day in and day out. I try my best, cause I know everyone here is feeling the same kinda stir crazy I am, but. . . I'm tired."

Curly lunges forward as your shoulders sag, palm pressed to the space between them before he can think better of it. "Yeah?"

"I miss plants." You tell him. "Trees, flowers, grass. I miss the sky and the sun. These damn monitors-" You throw an arm towards the screen in front of your both, face screwed up in disgust. "I hate them. They're not even close to something real. Hell, I'd take looking out into space over them."

Curly's thumb has started rubbing into the base of your neck without him realizing. He can't bring himself to stop, though.

"Back home, I could just visit somewhere new, meet new people, pet a dog and smell enough flowers to give myself asthma." You laugh a little at yourself. Curly smiles, and you return it, sheepish. "Sorry. I do like all of you. I hope I don't sound like I'm sick of ya."

"We like you too." Curly says with a pat on the back. "I get it, though. Days can blend together here, drive you crazy." An idea wiggles into his head, one he can't dismiss, even if it's technically against protocol. "If you want a change in scenery, I could show ya the cockpit?"

Your head snaps up again, and this time Curly is the one to rub the wince from your neck. "Really??" You flounder suddenly, and it strikes just how close he is to you. His face burns as he eases back, hand tingling from the touch of your skin. "I mean. . . if it's alright! I don't wanna impose if you're busy."

"Nah," Curly waves the worry away, "it's nothing. Hell, I could teach you how to fly, if you're interested?"

"Very much!" You chirp.

The lights dim further, probably a code Pony Express programmed to save energy while the crew slept. It doesn’t matter, though, for your grin and bright eyes light up the entire damn spaceship.

You have never smiled at him like this before. Curly desperately wants you to do so every day, though.

"Then we'll do a lesson tomorrow." Curly says. He stands up, a hand offered to you. You take it, squeezing his hand before you let it go. "Try and get some sleep, okay?"

"Aye aye, Captain." You do a mock salute, striding off with a wave. "Sweet dreams!" As you pass through the door, you make sure to bow. "Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow!"

With you gone, Curly lets a grin take over his face, hiding it behind his hand.

Seems he's getting some alone time with you tomorrow. He's going to be having sweet dreams indeed.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Flag IV

Frida Maanum x Emma Lennartsson x Child!Reader

Summary: You're hurt and scared

Your head throbs as you wake up, the pitter-patter of rain falling on your skin.

The rain is cold but your tears are hot, scorching your skin as they roll down your cheeks.

The butterfly you were chasing is missing, flown away to hide from the spring storm that you now find yourself trapped in.

You don't know how long it has been raining but you're soaked to the bone and shivering.

Two Jordans whine at you, both blurry around the edges as you sit up.

There is a sharp rock where your head was, blood being washed away as the rain gets heavier.

The Jordans whine at you again and you reach out for one of them but your hand passes right through.

"Jordi?" You ask as the second Jordan nudges you with his snout," I'm tired. Where's...Where's Mama and Mummy?"

Your eyes slip closed for a moment. It's easy to nod off even though you're very cold and your head feels icky.

Jordan barks and you jolt awake again, head throbbing.

Hot blood runs from your forehead down your face as your gaze goes blurry again, Jordan just a weird dog shaped blur.

You want Mama and Mummy. You don't know where they are.

The rain turns to snow quickly and the temperature plummets, your clothes freezing on your body.

Your breath comes out in a puff in front of you.

Jordan barks again, lightly nudging you under a little ledge. It does little to stop the cold but it keeps you out of the snow that clings and melts in your hair.

Jordan is warm against you and you shiver, little hands burying themselves into his fur.

"Mama an' Mummy," You say through cracked lips," Jordi...Where Mama an' Mummy?"

You don't remember much, not really.

You were playing in the forest with Frida earlier and she let you run ahead with Jordan a little bit, as long as you stayed in sight at all times.

There was a fork in the path. Usually, you swing right but Jordan got distracted by a butterfly and went left.

You followed after him, distracted by the butterfly too.

You'd tripped on something. You're not sure what it was, maybe an upturned root or tree branch. You'd tripped though and went tumbling down into the ditch.

You must have hit your head on that rock because your head is all sticky with blood.

"J-Jordi," You say, shivering," 'm cold. Mummy an' Mama be here soon?"

Jordan doesn't answer you, patting his front paws on the ground as you lean more heavily into him.

"'m tired too," You say," Havin' a little nap."

Your fingertips are freezing. You can barely move them as they go from their usual colour to a little purple. Your lips are the same colour but you can't see them.

"Jus' a little nap. A little one, Jordi."

Your eyes slip closed again as you lean your head against Jordan's body.

He whines a little, shifting around before he's curled fully around you.

Jordan's nice and warm like your blankets at home, when you're wedged between Mama and Mummy in front of the fire with a little mug of hot chocolate that Mummy makes special for you with whipped cream, chocolate shavings and marshmallows.

You don't know how long you nap for or even if you nap at all.

It's like one long blink as Jordan shifts away from you, barking and snarling.

You've never heard Jordan snarl before so you try to wrench your eyes open. It's hard going though, frozen shut by all your tears, but eventually, you get them open.

There's another dog shaped blur in front of Jordan, lying down on the ground nonplussed.

There's a human shape too and you puff out a big breath.

"Mama?"

"No, sweetie," The blob says," I'm not your Mama. But I'm here to take you to her. Can you come a bit closer?"

You try to get closer but you don't have much strength to get to your feet, all shaky and weak.

Jordan whines when you fall over and snaps as the strange woman comes closer.

"Easy," She says to your dog," I'm here to help her. That's a nasty cut you've got there. Can you tell me how it happened?"

"I...I hurted myself when I fell. Big ouchie."

"Yeah, it is. I've got a little bandage here, can I put it on you?"

"Bandage? Like-Like a plaster?"

"Like a big plaster."

You lean forward and the woman gently presses the gauze over your bleeding head.

"And what about your eyesight? Can you see me properly?"

"Like-Like a blob," You answer," Saw two Jordi's earlier but now only one."

"Okay, sweetheart, thanks for telling me." She reaches for her radio. "I've got her here. Skipper tracked her and her dog down. I've got a serious head wound and a likely grade three concussion. Complaints of blurry vision. Likely loss of consciousness. Difficulties with balance and speech. I've got early symptoms of hypothermia but it seemed her dog helped stave the worst of that off."

You reach out for Jordan again, who presses into your body.

"Got it, boss. Bringing her in now."

The woman reaches for you and you go willingly.

She'll take you to Mama and Mummy.

Jordan pads after you, still wary.

Emma sits at the entrance of the forest next to the ambulance. Frida sobs at her side, both of them wrapped in a blanket as they wait.

They know the paramedic has found you now, her and her dog Skipper have tracked you and Jordan down but it doesn't quell Emma's worry for you.

Not until the high-vis jacket pokes out from the forest and the search and rescue team swarm.

A blanket is wrapped around you tightly and the gauze is gently pulled away from your face to see the extent of the injury.

"Squish?" Frida calls, trying to fight through the crowd," Is she okay? Will she be alright?"

You're loaded into the ambulance, awake and talking as Emma and Frida crowd around you.

"Mama. Mummy," You say," Found me."

"Yeah," Emma says, blinking away tears," Of course we found you, squish."

You shiver. "Stayed put like you told me if I got lost. Stayed with Jordi."

Emma glances down at her feet. Jordan's covered in snow, streaks of blood drying on his fur.

"Jordi, good boy."

"The best boy."

Frida takes Emma's place talking to you, cupping your cheek as Emma reaches down for Jordan.

"You're such a good boy, Jordi," She tells him," For looking after her. The best big brother in the world."

"He almost attacked Skipper for trying to get to her," The search and rescue paramedic that found you says," He was very worried on the walk back. You've got a good one there. Both of them. She didn't run off. She stayed exactly where she fell."

"Thank you, for finding her."

"It's my job. We've got a hospital nearby that will take care of you all. They'll take her for a scan, sew up her head and put her on concussion watch. She'll be fine."

Emma can't help but repeat it again. "Thank you."

"Go," The woman says," Be with your kid."

You won't remember much of this experience. You'll never really remember the fall or the crack of your skull against the rock. You'll never really remember the nearly three hours you spent missing, huddled under the ledge with Jordan, who was desperately trying to keep you awake as your breathing got shallower and shallower and your got colder and colder.

You'll never remember the trip to the hospital but you will remember the paramedic that found you and her dog Skipper.

You will always remember her high-vis jacket and her body against yours as she carried you out of the forest back to your mothers.

You will always carry that memory with you, even when you're out in your own high-vis jacket with your own tracking dog and your own emergency medicine kit.

[yanderemommabean]

Yandere Choso X Reader fic

(Quick note! This was a com, who ill keep anonymous, but I was told this was A-Okay to post and share! I hope you beans enjoy! The premise is Choso being affected by Hanami's flower in a sex pollen sense, and it goes from there! CW: Dub-con, but con at the end, chasing through woods, random guy gets obliterated for talking to reader, and reader is female/has AFAB language! Its a bit of a read of 3,500 or more words so get cozy!)

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His skin feels like it's incessantly itching. His eyes glean more dilated and red than usual as he looks around his room, pacing the floors like a beast caged. Choso can’t explain it, honestly. He would just feel better if you were here, safe and sound by his side like you should always be-- Especially after how harrowing that fight got when he was slammed into Hanami. Flower buds burst open when Choso’s body  brutally collided into the curse, and thankfully he was able to take the brunt of what followed, but you…

He clutches his hair a bit, not wanting to think of what could happen if you were any closer than you were. To think anything could happen to you at all made him feel shaky and uneasy and he knows that can cascade into a pit of despair if let to simmer for too long. It’s a bad habit of his; he’s had it for as long as he’s been the eldest brother. It’s never really let up, in fact he’d say it’s worse now since he’s been given people to care for again. He can’t be fully blamed for that can he? After coming into this world, you and Yuuji were really all he had to get him by. Loss hurts. He’s so tired of that aching loneliness.

Going from adversaries to allies was the least of what anyone expected though  he wouldn’t have it any other way. You managed to bring to life what he thought was dead and buried. He’d been so sure he’d strangled it with his own hands.

Choso couldn’t ask for a better friend, yet… Lately he’ll admit, he’s been craving more than just  that. When he gets a glimpse of you, he has to force himself to behave and not gather you into his arms, insistent to press his lips to yours and drink in the taste of you. It’s all he’s been wanting these past few days, picturing how your voice would go weak as you beg him for more. 

Dear god, he wants to give you more. He’d give you anything your pretty beating heart would desire, simply as long as you only called his name; only ever allowed his fingers and lips to explore your body. 

Before you, Choso never once considered looking for a lover. He was sure your kindness could only stretch so thin, denying him anyway. Alas, he was contempt in letting you radiate the sunshine in his life as he loved from afar. After that Hanami incident however, he isn't so willing to sit and wait anymore. 

“Cho?” Your voice calls out, poking your head into the room as he paces like an animal being caged. His eyes dart to where you stand, mouth acting before his brain could catch up. “Where the hell have you been?” 

You’re both stunned by the coldness his usually warm voice held. You stay still, eyes rounded as you decide to fully enter the room to ask just what the hell his problem was. He’d been aggressive before, sure. You’ve seen him be rough and ruthless as he fights, spewing venomous words and poisoned blood to pry open curses like pistachios. Though, never has he had that sort of cold and demanding tone with you. 

“I'm sorry…” he utters, delicate and tired as he walks over, embracing you tightly. You hug him back on instinct, pressing your face into his chest as you feel him play with your hair; pressing his face into it as he breathes your scent in to calm his nerves. Oh dear god, it does the exact opposite. That sweet scent only lets his blood rush south and his mouth goes dry; his fingers start to shake as they brush through your hair and do their best not to yank your head back to force his lips on yours. 

You have to be fucking with him. You have to be. Teasing him with every movement you make as his sanity trickles from his ears and he comes closer and closer to just giving in and sinking his teeth into you. Maybe even in a literal sense with how desperate he is to mark you up and keep others away. Or to show you off and to taunt the other, lesser men who thought they could ever get ahold of a gem like you. Pathetic, really. 

Those vermin need to crawl on their knees and beg for his forgiveness when he gets ahold of them. 

“Look, you’ve been cooped up in here for a while, Choso” You say as you begin to pry away from his tight embrace -was he always this hard to pull away from? “I think you should come with me on a little walk. I know you hate the town so the woods should be fine, right? Fresh air, no paranoid thoughts, you’ll get to see that everyone's ok! I mean, I know how you get when you worry too much…” It’s nothing like that. Though, how can he tell you that? How could he shatter this image you have of him etched into your mind’s eye? How could this beast look at such innocent prey and tell them he’s about to devour them? 

He’ll hide that for now. Maybe you’re right. Maybe this is all because he’s gotten sick from Hanami and needs to just let the air and the sunlight heal him. You had never led him astray before.

He trusts you to lead him; guiding him away from the solitude of his living arrangement as he follows dutifully beside you. His body becomes flushed and red as your scent only grows more and more enticing. Do the people walking by not sense it at all? How delectable you smell? How you desperately need to be stuffed to the brim until your voice is broken? 

A deep breath, and the curse composes himself. Breeding you in public wouldn’t be ideal anyway. These sick humans would want to taint you, take you away, try to have a piece for themselves, and he wouldn’t hesitate to level a few buildings to make them scatter like the roaches they are. 

“Hey, is there anything else you’re not telling me? I mean even in messages you seem, I don’t know…Off '' You ask, stopping mid walk to turn and look up at him. His long hair was down from his usual pigtails and in this light his eyes held more of a dark, dare you say hunter-like aura; it only added to the man's beauty. His scowl seemed to grow as he watched more people walk by, getting way too close to you-- way too comfortable with your personal space. 

The woods was just another five minute walk away, and yet it felt like an eternity trying to get there. 

“Well, some troubling thoughts have been arising” He admits, while rather harshly yanking you closer as the sidewalk turns into a path that leads into the trees. 

“These people need to get away from us. I’m about to strike down the next one who gets too close, I swear.” He grits out, teeth showing in a snarl as he looks over his shoulder, watching as the last two people he hoped would be on this trail were leaving. 

You aren’t sure what to even say, you’ve never seen him this high strung before. That’s honestly saying a lot with what you’ve seen Gojo and Yuuji  put him through. But in all seriousness, you were beginning to feel uneasy, like something dark was bubbling beneath the surface. You are starkly reminded that he is in fact, a special grade curse.

“L-let’s just calm down and get to the woods before we vent ok?” You say with a forced laugh, feeling the energy shifting even more as a jogger comes running up the way, and stopping to catch his breath. He hunches over, hands on his knees as he lets his lungs get in whatever air they could.  With a wipe to his brow, he began smiling up at you two with what Choso saw as a flirtatious smile while you only saw a friendly one. “Careful out there” he says between breaths, standing up fully. “It’s getting dark. You know how those trails get when you can’t see as good. Hate for a cutie like you to get lost…” he says, looking like he was moving in to press closer. “Especially with someone like him-” he whispers, gesturing vaguely “-are you safe with him? Do you trust him?”.

After that question, you feel as though a snap of electricity went through the air. 

That’s when it all goes downhill. The warm splash mixed with the thudding of a now headless body hitting the ground, you can’t comprehend what you’re seeing for a few horrifying seconds. It's silent somehow. That’s the worst part. It’s like the world isn’t aware that a man was just beheaded and killed before your very eyes, his lifeless body now bleeding out on the dirt before you and the curse who did the horrible deed. 

“He touched you” Choso spits, eyes holding a viper-like stare as he wipes his cheek, a blood streak following his knuckles as he spits at the man's corpse. You act on instinct. You rush forward, your feet carrying you like your life was about to end, and for all you knew, it was. There wasn’t any semblance of the Choso you knew in those eyes as he struck down the innocent man who wanted to check on you. You can’t even begin to process the words Choso is throwing at you as he chases you through the rocks and trees, the sun beginning to fully set as the hunt begins. 

You feel like a deer trying to sprint away from a predator. Every flicker of your eyes shows his face, still blood speckled as he runs after you. Every twist and turn you take only makes your heart beat faster as you look for any possible hiding spots, anything to shield you from whatever wrath Choso has had buried within him these last few days. Why? Why is he doing this? He seems so evil and terrifying! You almost let out a sob, hunching over behind a large tree so your breath could come back to you. “Don’t you dare show feelings for someone like him” Choso snarls, but it’s far away, his voice sounding strained as he tries to speak. “Don’t you get it? I did that to protect you! All these people, they…They don’t want what's best for you, they want to hurt you!” Hurt you? Telling you to be safe was hurting you? No, Choso’s just lost it, he’s gone completely crazy! 

“Y/N…You know I’d never hurt you” His voice pacifies, coming closer and closer as you fear trying to flee from the tree you’re behind. Oh god please, please don’t let him find you. Don’t let him kill you! “I’d never forgive myself if you were hurt” He continues, stalking closer like a large cat as he follows your scent. “I just want to have you safe. To be pampered. To be mine as I lavish you in my love and adoration” he seemingly purrs, voice dropping an octave as he stalks closer and closer, knowing exactly where you were hiding.

“To have you bear my own children…have you love me as I love you. To taste you. Feel you. Have your body molded to fit mine as we breed like rabbits” he chuckles, dark and sinister as his fantasies seem to take over and spill from his lips. “Tell me, Y/N, are you a gentle lover? Or do you need me to bruise you a little? Rough? Soft? However you need it, you know I’ll give it to you until your pretty little head is empty and only full of thoughts of me.” 

That voice, that sultry purr, was this some sort of sick thrill for him? 

You don’t get much time to dwell on his true intentions. Once you feel his presence behind you, it’s too late. In a blink, your hands are being pinned, and your mouth is covered by his hand. Your eyes meet beautifully dark ones, staring at you like you were a meal he couldn’t wait to devour. 

“Gotcha.” You whimper, shaking your head as Choso simply stares for a moment, soaking in your scent and salivating at the intensity of it. There’s no way he’s not getting a taste of you. He’s even worked up the appetite for it. Once his hand pulls away, you openly sob, shaking and terrified. “Please, please don’t kill me! I-I thought we were-” He clicks his tongue, grabbing your face roughly as he pulls you into an intense kiss. It’s abrupt, unplanned, but he doesn’t care anymore. He’s had enough of these feelings building and building with no release. He’s taking what he wants, and he’s going to be sure you enjoy every bit of what he plans to ensnare. 

You find yourself melting into the kiss. You’re confused, and admittedly turned on at the same time. The panted breaths shared between you are hot and primal. He knows how to suck and bite just right to get your lips to open, allowing his eager tongue to slip inside and taste you, dragging the tip of his tongue over the pad of your mouth while his hand goes to your hair, pressing your face closer so he can kiss you deeper. 

The deep moans Choso makes as his tongue curls around your mouth, they’re deep and hungry, making your thighs clench together even more. Fuck, are you actually into this? You can’t even feel the amount of shame that you think should as the kiss becomes more feverish, both of you panting and moaning into one another's mouths as he tugs and paws at your clothes. He’s so close to just tearing them off if they keep denying him contact with your warm skin. 

He needs you. He needs to feel you pressed against him, bare and naked. He won’t let you get away until his cravings are satiated; your body decorated in his teeth and nail marks. “Choso wait-” You breathe, light headed and confused as you press at his chest, tears still drying on your face. You needed a second to breathe, to think! Everythings happening too fast and too much and- “Say my name again.” he demands, low and carnal as his hands tear off your bottoms. In one fell swoop your wet panties came off with the shorts you wore to make walking easier; showing Choso that at the very least, your body was enjoying this. Who were you kidding? You wanted this to keep going. That fever pitch was only rising and that desperation was filling you too. You wanted to see what he could do to you. Despite being terrified for your life, you knew you were safe. Well, as safe as one could be with a rabid dog like Choso had become. A collared beast isn’t a threat to their owner though, yeah?

“I said-” he barks, pulling you forward to steal another heated kiss, one hand coming to shuck off his own pants. “Say my name again.” 

There was no room for arguing. Decorum had left the moment the chase started. You look up into his eyes, kiss swollen lips parted as you both press forward into an embrace. There was a beat of silence, like you both were caught in admiration of one another. The forest waits on baited breath before you reach your hand up and wrap around his neck, holding yourself up as he wraps your leg around his waist. “Choso.” It sent a visceral shock down his spine hearing you say that in such a way. So needy, begging for him to keep his body against yours as you both find yourself kissing again, his hand coming to cup your ass and hold you up until you’re backed against the same tree you were just trembling and crying behind. Everything blurs after that. There’s clothes coming off completely, possessive phrases being moaned into your mouth or bitten into your skin as he falls apart, greedily taking in whatever he could of you as you two go at it like animals. You swallow, deep and nervous when you feel his cock pulsing against you. Where the hell was that thing hiding? Is that why he wears baggy clothes?! He doesn’t let your mind wander for too long. His fingers grip your face again, tilting your head upwards to meet his lust filled eyes. In this moon light, he looks even more inhuman. A true monster who got what he wanted. A death painting. Part of you feels like you want to see him like this more often. Hopefully with less murder involved. 

“Eyes on me baby. Only me” he commands, holding you still as he guides himself into you, inch by thick inch. Your entire world was on tilt, feeling him enter you while your legs trembled and struggled to hold onto his waist. How was he so strong? Holding you up this easy, it made your mind race and trip over itself with imagining what all he was holding back on, how he could manhandle you as he pleased. 

“Fuck, you’re taking me so good. Just like that.” he praises, and fuck, it goes right to your core, making you pulse and throb with arousal as he begins to pump into you. You feel yourself go taut as he decides to press you into the ground, his cock angling even deeper inside of you as he has you in a damn near mating press. 

“To think I waited for this-” he groans, deep and guttural as he begins to grind into you, over and over, long and languid strokes to drag the pleasure out of both of you. “-Ngh, to think I wouldn’t have you, begging for me and my cock, moaning for me like a good little whore.” “Ch-Choso!” You gasp, choked and stunned as he begins to speed up, the haze only growing as he holds his hand to your throat and buries into you over and over again. “You should have been mine since I fucking laid eyes on you! Fuck-I should make you my pretty little mommy, breed you like your pussy craves until we have more kids than I have brothers.” he rambles, tensing up and manking sure his angles were just right, stroking every bump and ridge inside of you. Your toes are curling at this, being used like some flesh light while Choso babbles away about how he owns you, how he wont let anyone even breathe near you, all while his massive cock carves its place inside of you. It can’t be helped when you scramble for any sort of purchase, grabbing onto his arm and clawing at his skin, drawing blood as you clench your fingers. 

Your mouth falls open, heat flooding your system as you moan louder than you’re sure you ever have when you used toys or had sad experiences with other dates. It was so much, it was too much. You hadn’t known you’d be so turned on by this; how possessive Choso was, never even considered it until now. 

With the way your body tensed, a splash of your cum coating Choso’s cock and dripping down to the forest floor, there was no denying it. You were perfectly ruined for this man. The white hot pleasure came rushing behind your eyes, your back arching off of the ground as you cried out, spasming and writhing as your orgasm wracked your frame. 

Choso watches, enthralled and beyond turned on as he watches you fall apart. His hand comes to press right on your abdomen, feeling how deep he is inside of you as his thrusts refuse to cease. “That’s it. Good fucking girl, Y/N. Feel how deep I'm going to breed you? How full I’m going to make your womb? Fuck, you’re going to be so pretty round and soft with our babies.” He’s lost in his animalistic thoughts, his pace picking up as he sloppily kisses you, chasing your taste with his lips and tongue as his balls slap against your ass, his orgasm coming to its peak. “Going to mark you from the inside, make you mine.” he growls, only getting your weak and worn out whimpers in return as you watch how his cock enters you over and over, knowing he means every word. He steals another desperate kiss, his hips suddenly stilling as warm fluid empties into you, fucked deeper and deeper into your core. You shudder, feeling like an aftershock of pleasure leaves you as his cock slips out and his load begins to follow. You two sit there, panting and catching your breath. Choso seems so much more, how do you say, soothed? Subdued? Pacified? Whatever it is, he seems so much more calm than he had earlier as he admires how his seed leaks from you and lets his fingers play with your soaked and swollen hole. “Hmph. I love how you jerk and twitch from this. Sensitive aren’t you?” he chuckles, crawling on top of you again, admiring every bite mark that was now swelling and welting. “I think this is a good start.” “T…To what?” you ask, head more clear as you try to once again process everything that’s happening. “Our family” he says, like he didn’t just rearrange your guts. “I'm going to make us a family. A big family. A loving one unlike the one I was brought up with.” 

He smiles, soft and amused as he plays with a few strands of your hair, like you weren't covered in dirt and sweat. “I’ll give you a few minutes before we get started again”. 

((I hope you beans loved it! -mommabean))

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Hi! First of all I *love* your guidelines. I’m just recently getting into Stray Kids and while I will read smut about 2D men, smut about real people is off putting to me, so that was really cool to see. Anyway, I love love love your angsty shots. They’re so good! Could I put in a request? I was thinking like how they would all react like, they were out on a date and paparazzi get too aggressive with Y/N and it causes her to get hurt? (I had a dream where I was on a date with Bangchan and we were trying to get into the back of a car and once I got in a paparazzi went to the other side of the car and yanked me out and Bangchan was BIG mad at them, especially cause when I fell out of the car I broke my wrist from landing on it) ANYWAY SORRY FOR THE RANT I’m just big in my feelings about these guys now and since it’s just new I know I’m in for a ride. Thank you!

When Paparazzi Gets Too Violent

OT8 x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight cussing

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Bang Chan

The night had started off perfectly- just you and Chan enjoying a cozy dinner in a quiet restaurant. It had been a while since you two had some time to unwind, since he had been busy with a comeback, and he looked so relieved to just be in your company. You loved watching him let down his guard, his tired eyes softening as he smiled at you across the table.

But the peace didn’t last long.

As soon as you both stepped out onto the street, the flashing lights and swarm of paparazzi descended. You heard your boyfriend let out a deafening sigh.

"Let's just get to the car," Chan whispered, his hand firm on the small of your back as he tried to guide you through the crowd of photographers, questions flying at both of you.

Despite his calm facade, you could feel his body tense under the pressure, his jaw clenching tighter each time someone shoved forward for a shot. You could tell he was on edge, trying so hard to keep his cool.

But then it happened.

You were just about to step into the safety of the car when a paparazzo grabbed you by the arm and yanked you backward. The sudden force threw you off balance, and before you knew it, you were crashing to the pavement. The pain in your wrist was immediate and sharp as you braced yourself on the concrete. The gasp you let out sent Chan into a rage.

"Y/N!" His voice was frantic as he rushed to your side, but the second his eyes landed on the man who had pulled you, something dark flickered across his face.

Bang Chan was not one to lose his temper. He was the leader, the level-headed one, but seeing you hurt because of someone else’s carelessness was his breaking point.

He stood, stepping between you and the crowd, his entire posture shifting from protective to menacing in the blink of an eye. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?!" His voice was low and dangerous, and you could see the tension in his fists, knuckles white as he held himself back from doing something drastic.

The paparazzo who had grabbed you shrunk back under his icy glare, but the cameras kept flashing, people still trying to get closer.

Chan shoved him back, hard. "Get. Away. From her."

It was only when he heard your voice again, a weak "Chan, I'm okay…" that he turned his attention back to you, his anger melting instantly into concern. His eyes softened as he knelt down beside you, his hands gentle as they reached for your wrist.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice shaky, filled with guilt. "I’m so sorry. I should’ve-"

You shook your head, biting back the pain, not wanting to make him feel worse. "It's not your fault."

But he wasn’t having any of it. "We’re going to the hospital," he said firmly, scooping you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing. "And I swear, I' won’t let them get away with this. I'm ruining that bastard. "

Lee Know

You and Minho were just trying to enjoy a quiet evening stroll through the park- nothing fancy, just some much-needed alone time. Minho had been busy lately, so this was your chance to reconnect, to talk, to be close. The air was crisp, the city lights reflecting off the pond as you held hands, walking slowly. It was a short escape.

Paparazzi had a way of ruining even the quietest moments. You didn’t notice them at first, but Minho did. His grip on your hand tightened subtly, his gaze shifting as they began to close in, cameras ready, questions already being flung at both of you.

He didn’t say anything- just kept walking, his jaw set, but you could feel the tension in his steps, the way his body became a shield between you and them.

"Ignore them," he muttered under his breath, pulling you a little closer. His voice was calm, almost icy. Minho never gave them the satisfaction of a reaction.

But then one of the paparazzo's got too close- pushing past Minho to get a better shot of you. The sudden shove caused you to lose your footing, and before you could even process what was happening, you were on the ground, a sharp pain shooting through your knee.

You winced, your hands instinctively reaching for your leg, but before you could even say a word, Minho was already in motion.

He froze, his eyes narrowing in on the photographer who had knocked you down. The air around him seemed to grow colder, his usual composed demeanor unraveling in the blink of an eye. "Are you out of your mind?"

His voice was so calm it was terrifying.

Minho’s eyes were dark as he stepped toward the paparazzo, and though he wasn’t yelling, the quiet, seething rage in his voice made everyone around stop in their tracks. "You’ve got five seconds to leave before I make you regret it."

The man stammered, backing away, but Minho didn’t even spare him another glance as he knelt down next to you, his hands surprisingly gentle as they inspected your scraped knee.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his tone soft and completely different from the menacing one he used just moments before.

You nodded, wincing as he brushed some of the dirt off your skin. "It’s just a scratch though, I'll be okay."

His eyes softened, though you could still see the anger simmering beneath the surface. "I’m sorry," he whispered, more to himself than to you. "The night's ruined now..."

You shook your head, knowing it wasn’t his fault, but Minho wasn’t easily reassured. He stood, lifting you in his arms as he headed toward the car. "Let’s go home. I’m not letting you out of my sight again."

Changbin

Being with Changbin was always full of fun, laughter, and energy. Tonight was no different as you both walked hand-in-hand down the street after attending an small festival and grabbing a bit to eat. The air was light, and Changbin was chatting animatedly about music, making you giggle as he recounted a funny story from practice earlier.

But the night took a turn for the worse when you two were spotted. At first, it was just a few cameras, nothing unusual. Changbin was good at staying composed in these situations, but tonight, the crowd of photographers seemed to multiply within seconds, blocking your path as they shoved their cameras in your faces.

Changbin’s expression shifted instantly, his playful smile fading as he moved protectively in front of you. "Stay behind me," he muttered, his voice low and firm.

You did as he said, gripping his arm as he tried to push through the crowd, but the paparazzi weren’t letting up. One of them shoved past Changbin, aiming for a close-up shot, and in the process, they knocked into you hard.

You stumbled backward, tripping over the uneven pavement and hitting your head against the side of a parked car. The impact sent a sharp pain through your skull, and you gasped, your hand flying to your head as you tried to steady yourself.

That was all it took for Changbin to snap.

His usually calm and playful demeanor was gone, replaced by a burning fury that made everyone around stop in their tracks. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?!" His voice boomed through the crowd as he stormed toward the man who had hurt you.

Changbin wasn’t usually one to raise his voice in anger, but when he did, it was enough to make even the bravest person shrink back. The photographer stammered, trying to backpedal, but Changbin was already in his face, his fists clenched as he loomed over him.

"You touch her again, and I swear-"

"Changbin," you called out softly, trying to bring him back to reality as you cradled your head. "I’m okay…"

Hearing your voice, he snapped out of it, his expression softening instantly as he rushed back to your side. "Are you hurt? Let me see."

His hands trembled slightly as he gently brushed your hair away from your face, his eyes filled with guilt and concern. "I’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking.

You shook your head, trying to reassure him. "It’s not your fault."

But Changbin wasn’t convinced. He helped you into the car, his jaw still clenched as he muttered, "I’m never letting them get near you again."

Hyunjin

Hyunjin had always been good at keeping his emotions in check when the paparazzi were involved, but tonight they seemed particularly aggressive. You two had just finished a late-night art gallery visit, one of Hyunjin’s favorite ways to unwind, when the paparazzi caught wind of your location.

At first, Hyunjin tried to ignore them, his arm securely around your waist as you both headed toward the car. "Don’t look at them," he whispered, his voice calm but with an edge of anxiety. He hated the way they intruded on your private moments. Especially when you weren't too keen about having your face all over the internet.

But as you got closer to the car, the crowd surged forward, one of the photographers getting too close. In the rush, someone shoved you hard from behind, causing you to trip and fall forward. You reached out trying to grab Hyunjin- accidentally bringing him down with you, which caused the cameras to snap even more. Hyunjin had somehow landed on top of you; while you landed awkwardly on your elbow, pain shooting up your arm as you let out a soft cry.

Hyunjin had already gotten up but upon hearing your cry his entire body froze. His gaze shot down to where you were on the ground, and for a moment, he didn’t move, the shock registering on his face. Then, something snapped.

His eyes blazed as he turned to the photographer who had caused your fall, his usually soft expression darkening with anger. "Why the hell would you think it's okay to get rough?!" he spat, his voice shaking with fury. Hyunjin wasn’t one to yell, but the way his voice trembled with suppressed rage was even more terrifying.

He stalked toward the man, his entire body tense as if he was ready to lash out at any moment. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done?" His voice was quiet, but the threat in his tone was unmistakable.

The photographer backed away, stammering apologies, but Hyunjin wasn’t listening. His focus was on you now, his anger dissipating the second he saw you holding your elbow in pain.

"Y/N…" He knelt down beside you, his hands hovering over your arm as if he was afraid to touch you in case he made it worse. "Where does it hurt, love? I’m so sorry…I didn’t see them coming towards you, it's my fault.”

You winced, trying to smile through the pain. "I’ll be okay."

But Hyunjin wasn’t having any of it. "We’re going to get your elbow checked out." he said firmly, his voice still shaking as he helped you to your feet. "And then we'll deal with the idiot who pushed you."

Jisung

Jisung had always been protective of you, but he wasn’t one to confront others unless he absolutely had to. Tonight, however, the situation forced his hand.

You and Jisung were leaving a small café after a quiet date, enjoying the peace that came with being together without people around. But that peace was shattered when a swarm of cameras appeared out of nowhere, crowding around you both as you tried to make your way back to the car.

At first, Jisung tried to keep it together. His grip on your hand tightened as he led you through the mass of flashing cameras and shouted questions. His heartbeat raced, anxiety bubbling in his chest as he tried to remain calm for your sake. You could easily tell he was anxious by the way his hand shook in yours.

But then it happened.

One of the photographers got too close, bumping into you as she shoved her camera forward. The force of it sent you stumbling, your knee hitting the ground hard as you let out a sharp cry of pain.

Panic surged through Jisung. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he froze, his wide eyes darting between you and the crowd around you. He wanted to lash out, wanted to yell, but his anxiety made his words catch in his throat.

Instead, he knelt down beside you, his trembling hands hovering over your injured knee. "Y/N, are you okay?" His voice wavered, the fear and guilt evident in his tone.

You winced, trying to smile through the pain. "I think I’m okay, just a bit scraped up."

Jisung’s mind raced. He knew he should say something, do something, but his usual anxious thoughts were louder than ever. What if he made it worse? What if he couldn’t protect you?

But then he saw the look on your face- how you were trying so hard to stay strong even though you were in pain -and something in him snapped. His fear was replaced by a surge of protective anger.

Jisung stood up, his usually anxious eyes hardening as he faced the paparazzi. His voice was shaky, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. "Back off," he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper, but firm. "You’ve done enough."

The paparazza who had bumped into you tried to offer an apology, but Jisung wasn’t listening. His focus was solely on you as he crouched back down, gently helping you to your feet. His hands were still shaking, but his grip was steady as he held you close.

"I’m so sorry," he whispered, his eyes glistening with guilt and worry. "I should’ve done more."

You shook your head, placing a hand on his cheek. "It’s not your fault, Jisung. I’m okay. And there isn't much you can do about them."

But Jisung wasn’t convinced. He gently wrapped an arm around your waist, helping you limp toward the car. His voice was quiet, filled with an anxiety-fueled promise. "I’ll protect you better next time, I swear. I won’t let them hurt you."

As you both reached the safety of the car, Jisung finally let out the breath he had been holding, pulling you into a tight hug. His body trembled slightly, but his arms were firm around you, as if he was holding onto you for dear life.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice barely audible, but filled with sincerity. "I’m never letting this happen again. Never."

Felix

Felix had always been the softest, sweetest soul you’d ever met, but even the kindest person had their limits. Tonight, you found out exactly what that limit was.

You and Felix were on your way to a late-night movie when the paparazzi caught wind of your date. It started with a few photographers, nothing Felix couldn’t handle. He just kept you close, his hand in yours, trying to keep the mood light as you both walked toward the theater. If anything, some cute and candid photos of his love for you would be broadcasted to the world. Nothing too bad about that, right?

But then the crowd started to grow, and they weren’t just taking pictures- they were yelling questions, getting closer and closer with each step. Felix’s grip on your hand tightened, his steps growing faster as he tried to get you away from them.

"Just ignore them," he whispered, his usual bright demeanor gone as he focused on getting you to safety.

But then, in the chaos, one of the photographers reached out, grabbing your shoulder to pull you back for a better shot. The force of it caused you to stumble, your ankle twisting painfully as you cried out in surprise.

That was when everything changed.

That limit was reached.

Felix’s usually bright eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind them as he turned on the photographer who had dared to touch you. You had never seen him like this- his entire body radiated fury as he stepped toward the man, his voice low and dangerous.

"Touch her again, and I swear to God, I'll end you." Felix’s voice was a quiet snarl, each word laced with venom. He didn’t have to yell to be terrifying. The photographer shrank back, clearly not expecting this reaction from the usually soft-spoken Felix.

But Felix didn’t stop there. He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. "You think you can just push her around like that?" His voice trembled with rage, his fists clenched at his sides as he held himself back from doing something he might regret.

Despite Felix’s usually soft-spoken nature, tonight, seeing you hurt pushed him beyond his breaking point. The paparazzo who had shoved you continued to cower as Felix approached him, his eyes blazing with a fury that you had never seen before.

No one had, really. You now understood why the members had once said Felix might have been the scariest one of them all, when he was truly angry.

"You think this is a game?" Your fiancé's voice was low, almost a whisper, but it was filled with a deadly calm that sent chills down your spine. His usually gentle demeanor had been replaced by something darker, more dangerous.

The paparazzi stuttered an apology, backing away, but Felix didn’t move. He took another step closer, his fists clenched at his sides. "You don’t get to touch her," he growled, his voice barely above a whisper but carrying an unmistakable threat. "You crossed a line, and that was a huge mistake."

The photographer muttered an apology, scurrying away, but Felix wasn’t interested in anything he had to say. He turned back to you, his expression softening instantly as he saw you clutching your ankle.

"Oh, love," he whispered, his voice full of guilt and concern as he crouched down beside you. "I don't know how I got blessed with someone like you. The fact you put up with all of this is insane."

He helped you up. "Is your ankle, okay?"

"Yeah, I think I just landed on it weird I'll be fine..." Your voice was a bit shaky- not because you were in pain but because an angry Felix was...scary, to say the least. "I can walk- woah!"

Felix scooped you up into his arms effortlessly, the pure rush of adrenaline giving him a strength that you figured could rival Changbin's in the moment. His eyes still blazed with anger as he shot a look towards the rest of the paparazzi who left without another word. "They'll never bother us again." he promised, his calm. "I swear."

Seungmin

Seungmin was always calm under pressure, the voice of reason when things got chaotic. But even he had times where his rationale would fly out the window.

You and Seungmin were walking through the streets after dinner, enjoying a date night together when the paparazzi found you.

Or someone else for that matter. As you two quickly realized they were focused on a different idol who had happened to be in the same area. So, Seungmin just kept his arm around you, his posture relaxed, guiding you through around crowd without a word- without so much as a look to the cameras.

And you almost got away.

That was until more photographers joined in, pushing and shoving to get closer, to the other idol. Seungmin’s calm demeanor began to slip. He tightened his hold on you, his eyes flickering with irritation as he tried to get you through the growing crowd.

"Just pay no mind," he muttered, his voice low, but you could hear the tension in it.

You nodded, staying close to him as you reached the end of the crowded space- but then another swarm of the pap came in and in the midst of chaos, someone pushed you from behind, causing you to stumble and fall against the pavement. Your hands hit the ground hard, scraping your palms as you let out a small whine, trying to get up but nearly stampeded in the process.

That was when Seungmin snapped.

His usually calm eyes darkened as he turned on the photographer who had pushed you, his entire body radiating fury. "What the hell is wrong with you?" His voice was low and controlled, but the anger in it was unmistakable.

One of the paparazza's turned to see Seungmin, who in the middle of the commotion had somehow lost his hat.

Seungmin wasn’t the type to raise his voice, but the way he looked at the photographer made everyone around stop in their tracks for a second. The woman stammered, trying to back away, but Seungmin wasn’t letting her off easily.

But the second the words left his mouth, he felt the cool breeze ruffle his hair and he knew he made a mistake. He mutter a curse under his breath and he rushed to your side blocking you from the paparazzi as their cameras started flashing in his direction. His hands were gentle as they reached for yours, inspecting the scrapes on your palms. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice full of guilt.

You nodded. "I’ll be fine."

"I'm sorry I drew attention to us." He murmured.

"It's okay."

But Seungmin's mood was ruined. He helped you to your feet, his eyes still flickering with anger as he glared at the paparazzi over his shoulder. "No pictures." he said firmly, his voice trembling with barely restrained fury as he guided you to where he had parked the car. It was no use, since they never listened. But he continued chanting it as he hid your face.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." He said once more. "They're the fucking worst."

Jeongin

You and Jeongin had been trying to enjoy a quiet day out, just the two of you exploring the city. He’d been excited to show you some of his favorite spots, and the day had been perfect, but the inevitable happened.

Jeongin tensed the moment he saw the cameras approaching, his hand tightening around yours as he tried to keep his cool. "Just stay close," he whispered, his voice calm but a little shaky. "It hasn't happened to me yet but sometimes they can get rough..."

You could tell he was nervous, but he did his best to protect you, stepping in front of you as the photographers got closer. They started snapping pictures, throwing questions at you both, but Jeongin just kept walking, his arm securely around you.

But then one of the paparazzi got too close, pushing past Jeongin to get a better shot of you. The sudden shove knocked you off balance, and you tripped over the curb, falling hard onto the pavement. You cried out as you landed on your tailbone.

Damn that hurts.

You felt blood seeping on the back of your leg too, a shard of glass seeming to have cut through your pant and wounded your thigh.

Jeongin froze, his eyes wide with shock as he saw you on the ground and the bit of blood. For a moment, he didn’t know what to do, his usual calm demeanor slipping as panic set in. "Y/N…" he whispered, his voice trembling as he crouched down beside you.

"Where are you bleeding from?" he asked, his hands hovering over you as if he was too scared to touch you, afraid of making it worse.

You winced, in annoyance, since the fall was painful but not unbearable. "I think that there was a broken bottle..."

Jeongin’s eyes filled with guilt as he glanced back at the paparazzi, his usually soft expression hardening for just a moment. He wasn’t the type to get angry easily in front of you, but seeing you hurt because of someone else’s carelessness made something inside him snap.

He stood up, turning to face the photographer with a look of quiet fury. "You shouldn’t have done that," he muttered, his voice low and steady, but there was a fire in his eyes that you had never seen before. "Get away now before I call the police on all of you."

When the paparazzi didn't listen his voice raised.

"I SAID LEAVE!" His voice was sharp and threatening. So much so the group immediately dissipated.

He quickly turned his attention back to you after making sure everyone was gone, his hands trembling slightly as he helped you up. "I’m so sorry…" he whispered, his voice thick with guilt as he wrapped an arm around you. "I didn't think they would do that..."

You shook your head, trying to reassure him. "It’s not your fault, Innie."

Jeongin frowned, pulling you closer to him. "Next time we can bring one of the Hyungs. Then I can protect you better."

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[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Kinktober - Day 13

13th — mommy kink, Max Verstappen

The previous day I The next day I Kinktober masterlist I Main list

Prompt: You are his team principal, and lately, things haven’t gone very smoothly how he wanted. So overnight meeting back at the factory or sometimes through Zoom is a must to save both the WDC and WCC’s titles for Max and the team. And it’s all too much since Christan didn’t realise how fucked up the car is and change it like Toto once said publicly before on the Drive to Survive show, before handling to you his position. 

You could always tell when something had become too much for Max. His shoulders would slump impossibly further, and you could tell that he was ready to leave. so you’d find a way to swoop him away, it seemed like you were always at the ready to get him out of situations you knew he would be uncomfortable in. Maybe that’s where his little kink had come from. You weren’t sure, all you knew was he’d said it once, and from then you’d taken up the mantle.

you settled on your shared bed, body reclined against the pillow as Max laid next to you, head resting on your chest, “I’m sorry, mommy.”

Your mouth parted in question, hand stopping its comforting movement against his back, “for what?”

He shifted, his body rolling to rest between your legs, hands moving to push your shirt up to your chin, his tired eyes flickered from your breasts to your face, “for making you leave early...”

Your hand moved, guiding his head to your right breast, nodding at him to verify that you were okay with what he was doing before speaking again, “mommy isn’t mad, Maxie.”

Max looks up at you with tear-filled eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, Mommy. I didn't mean to cause such a scene earlier. I just... I couldn't handle being there anymore."

He takes a shaky breath, burying his face in your cleavage as if seeking comfort and protection from the world outside this room.

"I hate feeling like this. Weak and pathetic. I'm supposed to be strong, to be able to handle anything life throws at me. But I can't. Not anymore..."

His fingers clutch at the fabric of your shirt, knuckles turning white as he fights to keep control over his emotions.

"You're the only one who understands, Mommy. The only one who knows how to help me feel better again. Please... please don't let go of me."

“I will always be by your side, Maxie. Until you no longer need me…”

That’s all it took for him to latch on, suckling at your nipple until you hissed from the sting of it. his tongue followed afterwards, soothing the ache he’d inflicted, before he let go, his teeth dragging against you until you winced, a wet ‘pop’ echoing through the room. His hand moved from its place on your hip to wipe at the saliva on his face, and maybe you found that hotter than you should have, cunt leaking against the abdomen of his nightshirt. You keened his name when he latched on to the other peak of your breast, your pussy clamping around nothing already, your mind argued that you’d let him do this for as long as he wanted, he deserved it.

Max groans lowly as he nurses from your other breast, his tongue swirling and teasing the sensitive bud. He sucks harder, drawing out your moans and whimpers as he drinks in your pleasure.

"Mmm, Mommy..." he murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. 

"You taste so sweet. So perfect. I could do this all day, every day..." His free hand slides down your stomach, fingers tracing the damp heat of your arousal through the thin fabric of his nightshirt. He presses against you firmly, feeling your clit throb against his palm.

"Do you want me to make you feel good, Mommy? To take care of you like only I can?" Max's words are punctuated by nibbles and kisses along your collarbone, working his way back up to your ear. Max's fingers dip below the waistband of your pants, searching for the slick heat of your core. When he finds it, he groans in satisfaction, rubbing slow circles over your clit as he continues to lavish attention on your breasts.

"Oh, Mommy... you're so wet for me already," he whispers, his hot breath fanning over your skin.

"Does the thought of me inside you, claiming you completely, make you this desperate for release?" With his other hand, Max tugs at the hem of his nightshirt, baring his hips and the rigid length of his cock to your hungry gaze. Pre-cum beads at the tip, evidence of his own arousal. "Tell me what you need, baby," he coaxes, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. "I'll give it to you. Anything, everything..."

Max's fingers slip past your panties, delving deep into your soaked folds. He pumps them slowly, curling to stroke your inner walls, as his thumb continues to circle your swollen clit.

"That's it, Mommy, ride my fingers," he encourages, his voice dripping with lust. "Show me how badly you crave it. How much do you need my cock filling you up."

He adds a third finger, scissoring and stretching you open as he drives in and out. His grip tightens, pulling you onto his hand as he thrusts faster, chasing your climax.

"You're so close, aren't you? I can feel you tightening around me," Max growls, his own erection throbbing with the need to be buried inside you. "Come for me, Mommy. Let go and scream my name."

“Maxie… Please…” 

Max groans deeply as he feels your walls flutter around his fingers, your orgasm crashing over you in intense waves. He works you through it, prolonging your pleasure until you collapse back against the pillows, spent and satisfied.

"That's my good girl," he praises, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to his mouth to lick them clean. "So sweet and responsive, always ready for me."

Max shifts positions, settling between your spread thighs. He lines himself up with your entrance, the head of his cock nudging your sensitive flesh. "I love you, Mommy," he whispers fervently, "and I promise I'll never leave you. We belong together, always and forever."

With a smooth thrust of his hips, Max sheathes himself fully inside you, a guttural moan tearing from his throat at the exquisite sensation.

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