#and literally right after it falls right where my head was

[hitohitonomi]

One Piece Headcanon ☆ How your relationship with Luffy would start and then grow.

Or How to Fall for a Ray of Sunshine Without Getting Burned

Gender neutral reader

We all know Monkey D. Luffy does not flirt, he literally does not have that function installed. He is a rubbered war weapon in a straw hat, and he runs on meat, loyalty, and chaos. Love is the least of his priorities, he probably doesn't even know what it is.

He’s the kind of person who grabs your hand and runs off into an adventure without telling you where you’re going. He smiles like a sunshine and says things like “You’re really cool!” when you show off your powers without understanding the effect it has on your heart, your soul, your will to live. He hugs you randomly and he lays in your lap like it’s no big deal. He calls you “his favorite” while asking for food. And none of it means anything that important in his head, because love, for him, is just the air he breathes.

And yet that doesn’t stop you from falling for him.

At first, it’s all the little moments. His laugh when he gets excited or the way he pouts when he doesn't get the food he wants. The fact that he trusts you completely, in that blunt and unfiltered Luffy way.

He’s not subtle. He’s not coy. He’s not flirty at all. But he wants you around all the time like a lost puppy.

You're the first person he drags when he wants to chase a butterfly or climb something stupid. He sits next to you during dinner, even when there’s room somewhere else. He leans on you without thinking. He touches your shoulder when he talks to you like he needs the contact to make sure you’re still there. But he doesn’t get it... He doesn’t get why your heart beats so fast. Why your face gets warm when he grabs your hand in the middle of a festival. Why you stammer sometimes when he calls you amazing or says “I’m glad you’re here.” Because in his head, he’s just being Luffy. And in your head, you’re spiraling...

The day you decide you want to confess, you try to be as little dramatic as possible. It’s just Luffy after all, he wouldn’t even reject but you fear he has absolutely no interest in you other than being his crew mate (which is absolutely great by the way)

But your feelings… It’s just too much to handle. You need to be settled once and for good. So one day, when you're both watching the stars from the deck, legs hanging over the side, you nudge him gently and say : “Hey… do you ever think about stuff like love?” Like the big baby you are. He blinks. “Like… Stuff Sanji keeps talking about ?”

You nod. He’s quiet for a second. You can hear the creak of the ship, the distant waves. And then he shrugs. “Not really. I like people! I love my crew. But love is weird. It’s like...” he frowns, trying to squish big feelings into small words, “...like eating something sweet but you don’t know what it's called. But you want more and more… so you try to get more ? I dunno.”

You try to smile. “It’s kind of that I guess.” He glances at you. And there’s a pause. A long one. “Is it?”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “And you’re good at it.” He doesn’t say anything right away. But after this conversation, things change. He starts sitting closer. Starts watching you longer. Starts asking you questions for once, how you feel, what you like, what scares you. And when you answer, he listens. He still doesn’t flirt. He still doesn’t “date.” But he starts choosing you. Every time. He saves the best piece of meat for you (a true love language). He falls asleep next to you, legs tangled, head on your shoulder, like he belongs there. He gets protective. Not possessive, but fierce. If someone makes you uncomfortable... Luffy’s already between you and them like “Back off.”

He says it like it means everything. And when it finally clicks, when he realizes how you feel (because someone says it out loud, or maybe you finally break and just tell him), he goes quiet. Like, actually, worryingly, quiet. No grin. No laugh. No yelling. He just stares at you for a long, long moment. And then says :

“...Oh. That’s what that was?” He processes it like someone handed him a treasure map and he suddenly understands where it’s been pointing this whole time. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a while and didn’t know that’s what it was.”

He’s still Luffy. Still chaotic. He gets distracted mid-kiss because he smelled cake. He still doesn’t understand subtlety or why Nami rolled her eyes when he called you “mine” in front of an entire kingdom. But he means it.

He holds your hand because he wants to. He rests his head on your lap sometimes for no reason. He tells people “that’s mine” with the same pride he uses to talk about the One Piece.

And when things are quiet, when the stars are out and the crew’s asleep and it’s just you and him.

He presses his forehead to yours and whispers, “I don’t know how to be in love, but I want to try with you.”

And somehow, impossibly... that’s more than enough.

[iiiiiiis-things]

"I can be a better boyfriend" {1K SPECIAL}

pairing- Suguru Geto x reader

a/n- HEY GUYSSS TYSM FOR 1K I LOVE YOU ALL

analysis- Suguru literally shitting on your boyfriend,

cw- smut with plot :) , cunnilingus in a bathroom stall, cheating, suguru is exactly submissive but he's so down bad for the pussy he looks like it

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"You okay?"

You flinch at the sound of the voice behind you. It’s low, familiar, steady — the kind of voice that always made you feel safe even when your world felt like it was falling apart. You don't need to turn around. You already know it’s Suguru. Of course it’s Suguru.

Hurriedly, you wipe your face, your fingers catching on your damp cheeks, trying to erase the evidence.

"Yeah, I’m fine. You can go back, I—"

"Lie again."

His words cut through you, sharp and calm all at once.

Your chest tightens. "What?"

You finally lift your head from where you're curled up on the cold concrete curb, and there he is.

Suguru.

Moonlight spills across his features — all sharp jawlines and smooth cheekbones, his dark hair catching the glow like silk. He looks calm, composed… beautiful. Unfairly so. And just seeing him standing there, looking at you like you matter — it makes everything inside you ache harder.

"I said, lie again."

He crouches down slowly, getting low enough to meet your gaze. His eyes search yours with a kind of quiet intensity that makes your breath falter. You turn away quickly, as if the shame might be less if you don’t meet his eyes.

“Nothing. It’s stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

But your voice breaks. It trembles out of your throat, cracked and breathless, and before you can catch yourself, another tear slips free.

You hate this. Hate being seen like this. But it’s Suguru. And somehow, that makes it harder to hide.

He exhales slowly, then shifts closer. The soft scrape of his sneakers on the pavement makes your heart hitch. He settles beside you, not touching, not crowding — just close enough to let you feel his warmth.

"Do not tell me not to 'don't worry' about my best friend, who’s sitting outside the club… crying... on her birthday."

The words aren’t accusing. They’re soft, strict, and stern. Heavy with care. His elbows rest loosely on his knees, hands clasped together, his body leaning in just slightly toward you — like he’s trying to anchor you.

And you almost break again.

"I’m sorry," you whisper, eyes dropping to the curb, to the chipped red paint and the dust and gravel at your feet. You focus on anything but his face. “I didn’t want to ruin anyone's night.”

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

Your fingers twitch. Not because he's wrong — but because he’s too right.

His tone changes. Not loud, but colder. Sharper. Controlled, barely.

"He told me he was going to the bathroom."

"Yeah. I saw him go in after—"

“Getting that girl’s number,” you both finish, voices low and bitter and exhausted.

The silence after stings. It stretches out like elastic, pulling at your chest, until you can barely breathe under the weight of it.

You inhale, shaky and slow, but all you taste is the air — sweat and alcohol and city dust. The ache in your throat swells again, threatening to spill over.

"I saw it too," Suguru says. His voice is quieter now. “Didn’t mean to. I just—”

He hesitates. You glance at him, and in the moonlight, you see something flicker in his expression. Something he’s not saying.

“I-I didn’t mean to,” he repeats. “Just… just couldn’t bring myself to look at you.”

You blink, confused. “Why?”

He gives a small, bitter smile. “Because you look really pretty tonight... and it kinda hurt.” now geto's eyes were focused on the red paint. faint blush coming across his cheeks at his minor confession.

You freeze. Your heart skips — not in panic, but in something else. Something dangerous. Something that settles low in your stomach.

Suguru hadn’t been watching him on purpose. Not at first. He just didn’t want to look at you — not when you were dancing on your ex-boyfriend like that, the beat pulsing through your body as he gripped your hips moving into a slow grind, your tight birthday dress hugging every curve. Not when the sight of you like that made his jaw clench and his blood rush to places other than the tips of his ears.

that should’ve been him.

He didn’t want to watch Shoko fail miserably at flirting. Didn’t want to babysit a drunken Satoru who was busy buying drinks for half the club. So when his eyes wandered, they landed on your ex-boyfriend — laughing, leaning in, scribbling his number into another girl’s phone like you didn’t exist.

You squeeze your eyes shut, shame rising like bile. "And you know what makes it worse?" a soft whisper

He turns his head to look at you again, fully, like nothing else matters in this moment.

"This isn’t the first time,"

"I knew something was off before. I just… kept telling myself he’d change. I kept hoping."

Suguru hums quietly. Encouraging. Listening. Being.

"And I kept giving everything I had to him,” your voice cracks, tears spilling down again, no use stopping them now, “and he just… takes it. Every single time.”

Your breath shudders. You try to blink the blur away. “And I’m so mad because… I still go back. Like it’s normal. Like it’s okay to be treated like that.”

You pause.

Then, softly — barely audible

“It makes me wish he was more like you.”

Suguru tenses beside you. You don’t look, but you feel it.

His chest rises slowly. Controlled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His voice is lighter, a soft tease undercutting the tension, but there’s a raw edge underneath. Like he’s afraid to believe you mean it. there was still a glimmer of hope that would make all of shoko's teasing actually mean something.

You laugh, hollow. A little embarrassed, but it comes out anyway.

“I mean, you’re… a good man. You respect women. You're a good listen. You have a pretty nice and steady income, and you’re like.. really pretty.”

You freeze as soon as the word leaves your mouth.

He raises an eyebrow, amused. “Pretty?”

Your face burns. “No — I mean, yes — I mean handsome! You’re handsome, obviously. Like in a cool, mature, effortlessly sexy way, not like—you know what, never mind—”

He laughs, deep and rich, the kind of sound that sends warmth curling into your chest.

You laugh too, even through the tears. But when you look at him, really look — the laughter fades.

He’s staring again. His smile gentles, eyes softer now.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I guess...

I could be a better boyfriend.”

He doesn’t mean it casually.

Not even a little.

Because what he wants to say is I would be. I already am. I’ve just been waiting for you to see it. he would love to be your good man, respect you, spoil you with his 'pretty nice and steady income', and he would want nothing more for you to wake up in his bed every morning, next to his 'pretty' face. or should he say his ' cool, mature, effortlessly sexy' face

And then — maybe it’s the moonlight, maybe it’s the way your lips are parted and your cheeks are flushed and your dress hugs you just so — maybe it’s the months of holding back — he hears himself say:

"You know… I could totally eat you out in the stall next to his. Just to give him a taste of his own medicine."

Your jaw drops.

“What?” you breathe, eyes wide, frozen.

Suguru stiffens. Immediate regret in every line of his body.

“Shit—okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. That was—stupid. I don’t know where that came from, I—”

"Would it change our friendship?"

The question slips out so quietly, you almost don’t hear it yourself.

But he hears it. Loud and clear.

He stops talking. Stares at you. His breath slows.

"...Do you want it to?"

You look at him then. Really look. The way he’s always there. The way he looks at you like you’re the only one who matters. And god, he’s so close. His knees brushing yours. His hands flexing slightly like they want to touch. His lips slightly parted.

“I don’t know,” you whisper

His hand lifts. Soft. Intentional. His fingers trail your jaw, tilting your chin so gently it makes your skin shiver. your internally panicking, hoping he can't hear the way your breath speeds up. he does

You don’t remember who moved first.

All you know is that suddenly, his mouth is on yours — warm, slow, careful, like he’s giving you every chance to pull away.

But you don’t.

You kiss him back.

And it tastes like a promise — one you’ve both been waiting far too long to make.

smut! under the cut (18+)

"f-fuckkk suguuuuu" you wish you could say your moaning out extra loud for your ex-boyfriend to hear but even if he wasn't in the bathroom, you couldn't help but mewl as suguru looks up at you through his pretty lashes, his mouth sucking the absolute life out of your clit. you lean your head back on the stall door as suguru is on his knees, hands on both of your ass cheeks trying to pull you in impossibly closer.

"Oh- ngh" his nose rests on top of your mound as you drag your pussy up and down in an attempt to grind on his tongue. suguru hands moves up to your hips, steadying you as he removes his mouth which causes you to slightly pout, letting out a whine which told him you wanted more than he was currently giving.

He holds up three fingers with a smug look on his face, three soon turned into two, two soon turned to one, and as if on cue you hear a slam of 2 doors being shut, one of them being the stall next to yours and the other being the entrance to the bathroom the loud noises being accompanied by harsh foot steps and a string of curses.

"I think he's jealous enough, what about you?" suguru asks his eyes staring directly into yours as he slowly moves closer, his breath just hovering over where you needed him most

"oh- yeah definitely"

"yeah for sure"

"so like we should totally stop right?"

"right- I mean y'know, mission is accomplished"

"yeah totally" he sits on the back of his calves running his hands up and down the back of your thighs, his eyes slowly migrating towards your pussy, not like it wronged him, never like it wronged him, but like it was the absolute center of his universe. he leans in close his nose nudging your recently neglected clit as he closes his eyes, suguru begins to slowly stick his tongue out, you take is upon yourself to grip his black locks by the roots and the back of his head making him crane his neck upwards to look at you, his purples eyes just barley open and his mouth still parted like he's about to let out a moan from the tight grip you have on his hair. His usual cocky and focused demeanor long gone. It was odd really, seeing suguru look so...

submissive.

"I thought you wanted to stop?" you ask confusion clearly lacing your voice. "yeah, yeah uh- sorry we can stop" he nods his head in agreement. the two of you stare at each other for a moment until you ignore your second mind with doubts with a simple "fuck it" shoving suguru's head back in between your thighs. what you didn't expect was for him to groan in response. he brings a hand to back your hip holding it so tight your sure there's gonna be bruises tomorrow.

With a hunger that matches the rage coursing through your veins, suguru presses his mouth against your pussy, his tongue delving into the warm, slick folds without hesitation. You gasp, the hold on his hair becoming even tighter to which geto responds in a muffled moan as he devours you with an intensity that's reassuring.

His teeth graze your clit, sending shockwaves through your body. The receiving pleasure is almost unbearable, the tongue thrusting inside your sopping cunt. "'feel like I'm in heaven baby, 'could sooo do this for hours"

"f-fuck don't stop, please baby- i need it" You can only tighten your grip on his messy black hair, moaning at the loud smacking of his tongue dipping in and out of your puffy folds.

suguru can't even bring himself to lift his head anymore, not even for a split second to just talk you through it, you just tasted so damn good, he makes up the lack of voice by lifting your leg up and over his shoulder; this new angle had his tongue touching that special spot inside you easily.

His tongue circles, flicks, and plunges, each movement a silent declaration of his loyalty and desire to make you feel good. you felt just how wet you were getting, and judging by the easy glide of his face, you cold tell his face was just covered in slick.

His hand comes to rest your remaining leg on his shoulder, his best shot to get even deeper inside you, he closes your thighs around his head, his own need for you palpable through the fabric of your soaked panties thats messily pulled to the side. It was as if he wanted to drown in the scent and taste of you.

The sounds of the club outside the stall fade away, replaced by the wet smacking of his lips against your skin and the loud moans that escape from your throat. He's relentless, his tongue moving with a purpose that borders on obsession.

You're powerless to stop the wave of pleasure that crashes over you, your hips bucking against his face. His fingers dig into your thighs, holding you in place as he continues to feast. You're acutely aware of your surroundings—the faint scent of disinfectant, the sticky floor, the graffitied stall walls—but none of it matters. All that exists in this moment is the feeling of suguru's mouth on you.

As you reach the peak of your climax, you tighten your grip on his hair making him groan once more, your body shuddering as his long lashes kisses his cheek. You let out the loudest and pornographic moan you've ever conjured up in your life as you ride his nose, suguru's tongue trickling down to slurp up every single drop, not letting any of it go to waste. it leaves your throat raw and your eyes stinging with tears.

Suguru pushes your panties back into place as you catch your breath, he stands and runs his big hands up and down your sides. his breathing ragged, his cheeks flushed. You can see the bulge in his pants, the unmistakable outline of his erection pressing against the fabric. His eyes dart down to it, then back to yours, and for a moment, you wonder if he expects you to reciprocate, to ease his own ache. But you're too caught up in the aftermath of your own release, your body still humming with sensation. he speaks interrupting your thought train on what to do next.

"y/n.. im sorry but- i just- I cant be just your best friend after this" he gives you a serious look as his hand finally settles on your hips and pushes himself flush against you, trapping you in between him and the stall wall.

You bring your hands to cup his face that was recently buried into your neck as he tried his hardest to not grind into you, he needed to have this conversation before the two of you did anything else. "sugu.." you hesitate on what to say next, know you should choose your words carefully.

"I know," you whispered, your voice a hoarse confession. "I don't want you to just be my best friend either."

Suguru's grip tightened on your hips, his eyes searching yours for the truth of your words. He leaned in, his breath hot against your skin. "What are we then?" The question hung heavy in the air, charged with a need for an answer that neither of you had prepared for.

You swallowed hard, tasting the salt of your own sweat and the lingering flavor of his kiss. "We're…more." You didn't know how to define it, but the word slipped out like a promise that had been waiting to be made.

He closed the distance between you, his mouth claiming yours in a kiss that was as desperate as it was hungry. His tongue invaded, tasting you, exploring every corner of your mouth as if trying to find the words he couldn't say. Your hands roamed his back, feeling the muscles tense and relax as he devoured you.

When he pulled away, you were both panting. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours with a vulnerability you hadn't seen in him before. "Are you sure?"

You nodded, the truth in your eyes as clear as the desire in his. "I want this, sugu. I want you."

His smile grew "Good," he murmured, "Because I've wanted this for so long." He stepped back, giving you room to breathe. "But not here," he said, his voice a gentle rumble as he shakes his head. "Not like this."

You nodded again, understanding that he was right. This was a moment that needed more than a dirty bathroom stall. It needed a bed, candles, maybe some music that didn't make your eardrums bleed. It needed to be special.

Suguru took your hand, leading you out of the stall and into the cacophony of the club. The lights were a blur around you, the people a sea of moving bodies that didn't matter. All you could focus on was the heat of his hand and the promise of what was to come.

jjk masterlist

[crascet]

Honest Thoughts: Superman (2025)

Alright, so having seen it twice the past few weeks; first with friends on its release day and a second time a week later, I can just say this is already my movie of the year.

This whole film is just a love letter to Superman and the comics in general in terms of story and tone, giving great time not just to Clark, but to the side-casts too. If you literally adapt this into a multi-issue comic, it will still have the same tone throughout and having some great shots that can be seen as comic panels.

David Corenswet did an excellent job as Clark showing the hopeful and caring nature of him that just shows why he's a great hero. Not because of the powers, but his humanity and caring about all life, from the kaiju attacking Metropolis to even a small squirrel about to be in the impact zone of said kaiju attack. Clark's whole journey throughout the film about him thinking he was sent here to do good thinking because his birth parents sent him to Earth and sent him the damaged message before Clark finding out about the true meaning behind it and deciding that he's doing good because he knows it's right thanks to the Kents is some amazing stuff. His ending speech he gives to Luthor is honestly one of the best Superman moments in DC films imo.

Nicholas Hoult as Lex is an amazing performance and one of the best portrayals of Luthor, being up there with Brown's performance in the DCAU and Rosenbaum's in Smallville. Lex is literally the best villain for a story like this, where Clark is best of humanity while Lex is the worst of it: capitalistic, manipulating, envious, narcistic, and only out for himself and finding ways that only benefit him. Above all that, the sheer despise he has for Superman is hilarious to see. And seeing everything fall apart for him with his expression being a mix of sadness and anger is just perfect for a character for him. Can't wait to see what will happen with him next, especially as he's heading to Belle Reeve in the ending.

Massive shoutouts to Edi Gathegi as Mr. Terrific who, as other people put it, "someone who knows they're the smartest man in the room and hates it." A great performance that has people loving him especially in the fight sequence with Five Years Time. It's also great to see Gathegi get the respect he deserves in a superhero film after his performance as Darwin in X-Men: First Class.

Honestly, the whole cast is great from Lois being critical on Clark about what he's doing and the impact it's causing while still caring about him and its great to see her have a hand in taking down Lex, to Jimmy being a ladies-man who I didn't see coming and having some good moments. The entirety of The Justice Gang is great like Guy being a jerk who people love to hate Fillion did a great job there too and Hawkgirl just hating Guy and being a real one by dropping Ghurkos from the air. Metamorpho is also good here in the short time he's in the movie and I'm glad to see another lesser-known DC character make the spotlight.

Sidenote: please check out Al Ewing's six issue run on Metamorpho that came out last year and ended a couple of months ago, it's hilarious and is a tribute to the silver age if you enjoy stories in that era.

One last character I want to mention is Ultraman in how Lex just treats him, despite being Lex's biggest weapon against Supes, has Ultra just flick on light switches and holding donuts for him. It's just funny yet also sad at the same time. It will be interesting to see him becoming Bizarro in a future entry since Gunn is doing the clone origin on Bizarro, like in the post-Crisis and Superman: The Animated Series continuities.

Last thing I want to say about it is that its a miracle that a story like this being released at a time like this with Isr- I mean Boravia being led by Neta- I mean Ghurkos invading Pale- I mean Jarhanpur while being aided by a US billionaire and having someone representing the general public being against this invasion while said invasion supporter is the current president. Just goes to show you the importance of Superman in a time like this.

Gunn's first film for the DCU is a great start that is just a love letter to Superman and what he represents. If you haven't seen it already, please do so, you won't be disappointed. I mean, it has Krypto in it, that's already a massive draw!

[tsaheylutales]

Okay I've never requested before but maybe a fluffy friends to lovers steve. perhaps between season 3 and 4 so it's quite low stakes but still obviously dealing with the fallout of season 3

LOVING YOUR WORKS BTW!!!

hii! ty for requesting! I'm not sure if this is what you expected but after reading @stevesgother's fic about steve after starcourt in season 3 it's literally been all i could think about so...it's kinda inspired by that.

I hope you like it! <3

also please ignore any mistakes it's 4 am.

2.5k words

When you spot Steve still sitting alone on the edge of the ambulance, your heart breaks in two. The navy sailor uniform you used to find so stupidly charming is now darkened with dried blood and splatters of vomit, the fabric hanging crooked on his frame. His lip is split, and his eye’s swollen half-shut and already turning a sickly shade of purple. Even from where you stand, wrapped in your mother’s shaking arms, you can see he’s trying so, so hard not to cry.

You gently slip from her embrace, promising you’ll be right back. Your feet crunch over broken glass and gravel, the air reeking of burnt plastic and smoke, the sky a midnight blue. The blanket draped around Steve’s shoulders slips a little, and you catch the shiver that runs through him.

“Steve?”

His head lifts, slow and shaky, dark hair falling over his forehead. His shoulders tremble, chin wobbling slightly as his one good eye finds yours. “Hey…” His voice is hoarse and still, somehow, he manages a weak, crooked smile, one that doesn’t come close to reaching his eyes.

“Hi…” You murmur, stepping closer. “What’d they say about…?” You gesture vaguely to your own face, mirroring his injuries.

“Grade two concussion.” He rasps. “They’re…uh…worried about a cracked eye socket but-” He cuts himself off with a sharp wince, breath hitching. “I’m not.”

Your chest tightens, a dull ache pressing against your ribs. You step into his space, gently brushing damp hair back from his forehead, careful not to touch the tender, swollen skin. “You should be.” You say softly. “What about the bruises?”

He exhales shakily, shoulders sagging. “S’everywhere.” He whispers, voice cracking on the last syllable. His gaze drifts, unfocused, over your shoulder.

“...Your parents coming?” You ask, though you already know the answer.

Steve swallows, jaw clenching. “Uh, no. No, they’re not.”

You bite your lip. He shouldn’t be alone right now. The thought of him sitting in that big, empty house, bleeding and dizzy, somehow breaks you even more. “Do you wanna stay at mine?”

He shakes his head too quickly, and immediately regrets it, face screwing up in pain. “No, no, I don’t wanna-don’t wanna be a burden-”

“You’re not a burden, Steve.” You say firmly, thumb brushing over the edge of his hairline. “I love your company.”

“Yeah?” His voice is so small, the word barely carried by the breeze. His eyes are wide and watery, lashes clumped together.

“Yeah. And my mom’s got this awesome first aid kit. S’basically got everything.”

The corners of his mouth twitch, a fragile thing. “Everything, huh?”

You nod, a tiny smile breaking through your worry. “So what do you say? Sleepover?”

“Sure.” He breathes. “A sleepover.”

You step back and hold out your hand. His palm is clammy and a little raw, but he lets you pull him up. He moves stiffly, sucking in a sharp breath. “Ow-ah-fuck.” He curses under his breath, pressing a trembling hand to his ribs.

Your heart spikes. “What? What happened?”

“I uh…might’ve broken a rib. Or two.” He admits, voice barely audible. Now that the adrenaline’s gone, pain starts to bleed over, dull and heavy.

“Steve…”

“S’okay.” He lies, shaking his head. “Really, m’okay.”

“You’re really not.” You say gently, squeezing his hand. “But we’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

He nods, exhausted. “M’kay.”

You lead him back across the parking lot. Your mom stands by the car, face softening when she sees Steve’s bruises up close. “Oh sweetheart…You poor thing.” She murmurs, voice thick. Together, you help him into the front seat, careful of every grimace and hiss of pain. As you close the door, you catch him sinking back into the chair, and for the first time all night, his shoulders relax, just a little.

When you get home, you help him out of the car, arm looped around his waist, guiding him carefully up the porch steps. Your mom unlocks the door ahead of you, throwing worried glances over her shoulder.

In the hallway, Steve pauses, eyes darting around like he’s not sure he’s really welcome. You touch his elbow, gentle. “Come on, you’re okay.”

You lead him to your room. He sinks down on the edge of your bed, shoulders slumping, chin falling to his chest. His wrists are raw, blood crusted over the scrapes.

“I’m gonna run you a bath, okay?” You murmur, rubbing circles on his shoulder. He barely lifts his head, just hums.

In the bathroom, you turn the taps, letting hot water fill the tub until steam rolls around your face. You pour in lavender soap, swirling your hand until the bubbles form, white and fragrant. 

When you come back, you knock gently on the doorframe so you don’t startle him. “Okay, s’all ready.” You cross the room, helping him stand. 

Once you’re back in the bathroom, you pull out two of the softest towels you own, and place them by the sink. Steve watches you with puppy-dog eyes, following you around the room as you collect different soaps and lotions. 

You turn and give him a soft smile, shuffling towards the door. “Right, I’ll leave you to it-“

“Wait…” His fingers curl around the edge of your sleeve, his brown eyes filled with fear. “Can you stay, please?”

Your chest aches at the softness of his voice. He looks so heartbroken, bruises glowing black and blue in the low light of your bathroom. You hate how beautiful he looks, even now. “Okay…Yeah, sure.”

You carefully help him out of his shirt, and you finally see the large aggressive contusions and swelling littering his ribs, deep purples and reds covering his skin. He looks away, voice low and embarrassed. “I just…don’t want to be alone right now.” 

Your eyes start to sting as you take in the extent of the damage, and you let out a shaky breath while you help remove his shorts.

“That’s okay, me neither…” You say. Your voice wavers a little at the end but neither of you address it. The bathroom feels warm all of a sudden, and you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your heart picks up, and you suddenly realise how intimate this is.

You’ve always loved Steve, ever since the 4th grade when you accidentally knocked him off the swing set after he asked you to push him. You’ve loved him through his ‘King Steve’ era, his relationship with Nancy, when everything in senior year went to shit and he didn’t get into a single college. You’ve loved him through all the highs and lows, without even realising it. And now?

Now it all comes crashing down at once. 

You quickly avert your eyes, focusing on the bubbles in the bath popping and foaming as Steve, moving very slowly, removes his underwear with a soft grunt. 

You catch him in the mirror; shoulders stiff, chin tucked. He looks so vulnerable it makes you feel physically ill. 

“I’ll help you in, okay?” You mutter softly. You keep your eyes mainly on his face, careful and respectful, trying not to let your gaze slip any further. 

Your hands are gentle at his elbows, steadying him as he steps into the tub. He sinks down slowly, letting out a soft hiss through clenched teeth as the water laps at his skin. 

He exhales, shoulders sinking as the heat seeps in. “Thank you.” He rasps, eyes hooded and sleepy. 

You kneel beside the tub, brushing the strands of fallen hair from his forehead with a wet hand. “Of course.” You whisper. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest, not because he’s sat naked in front of you, but because of the raw trust he feels with you. Allowing you to see him, all of him.

You pull out a little clear jug from under the sink, and dunk it under the water. “Want me to wash your hair?” You ask.

“That would be nice.” He hums.

“Good.”

You carefully pour the water on his head, tilting his head back slightly and placing your hand over his forehead so water doesn’t trickle into his eyes. He lets out a low purr as you repeat the action a few times. You drop the jug into the bath and move back to the cupboard. 

You flick through your basket of haircare, pulling out scents like apple and coconut. You place your nicest, most expensive ones down on the side of the bath. “Is floral shampoo okay?” You whisper, flicking open the cap. The familiar smell of roses fills the room, a scent Steve loves to smell when you sit too close during movie night.

“S’fine.” He exhales.

You both sit in silence, Steve letting out little moans and sighs of relief. You continue to massage his hair until the water goes cold and your knees start to hurt. Steve’s now got his eyes shut, he’s teetering on the edge of sleep.

You gently stroke his cheek, and rub down to his arm. “Hey sweetheart…Ready to get out?” You say, voice tender.

He blinks one eye open. “Hmmm.”

You wrap him up in a large towel, helping him up. “Easy, easy. There you go.” You say as he steps out the tub. “I’ll go get some clothes, okay?” 

You gently pat his back and tread back to your room, opening a drawer full of his clothes and shuffling through them until you find his favourite ones. When you reenter the bathroom, he’s standing in the exact spot you left him, damp hair curling at the nape of his neck, water dripping down his temple. 

He looks so exhausted. 

You clear your throat. “Want help getting changed?”

He nods, and you end up doing everything, not that you mind. You help him step into his pants, and delicately pull his t-shirt over his face. “Okay, this arm…Now the other one, there you go.” You say while pulling his arms through. 

Once you’re finished, he looks adorably sad stood in your bathroom, and you almost kiss the pout on his lips. “Right, let’s clean your face and get you tucked up into bed.” 

You guide him back to your room and settle him on the edge of the bed, cracking open your mighty first aid kit. You pull out some alcohol wipes and frown. “This is gonna hurt, okay?”

He nods, reaching for your thigh and squeezing it slightly. 

You gently start dabbing his face, grimacing as Steve lets out little whimpers and winces. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m sorry, baby…I’m really sorry.”

You finally set aside the first aid kit, smoothing your thumb over the angry red scrape on his chin. “Okay, ready for bed? I’ll join you after my shower-“

His hand shoots out. “Please don’t leave me.” He begs, his voice begging and faint.

“I’m not. I’m not, I promise. I’m just going to shower.” You run a hand through his hair, tucking a little ringlet behind his ear.

“Please…”

You pause, searching his eyes, your heart twisting as you see the flicker of fear in his. “How about you keep me company in there?” You offer, your voice easy and soft. 

“Okay.”

You guide him gently into the bathroom, your hand warm around his. He settles onto the closed toilet lid without a word, hair curling on his forehead, eyelids fluttering. 

“You comfy?” You ask, voice low as you turn on the water.

“Mhm.” He hums, leaning back against the seat. He watches you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he blinks too long.

“Won’t be too long, okay?”

You two fall into a comfortable silence, the hum and rush of the shower filling the space. Steve’s eyes keep drifting shut, but every time he hears you move, he shakes his head, peering through the steamy room. 

“You still awake, Stevie?” You call over the flow of the water.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m awake.” He murmurs, voice husky.

You poke your head round the curtain, shampoo suds trickling down your hairline “What do you wanna talk about?…”

There’s a beat of quiet, just water pattering against the tile.

“You’re really pretty.” He says finally, like it’s been sitting heavy on his mind.

You pause, your chest aching, blush rising up your neck, blooming on your cheeks and spreading to the tips of your ears. “You still feeling woozy?”

“No.” You hear him shuffle. “You’re just really pretty.”

A breathy laugh slips out of you, soft and fond. “So are you, you’re very pretty, Steve.”

“Even with a swollen eye?” His voice dips.

“Especially with a swollen eye.” You promise, leaning to peek around the curtain again so he can see your smile. “You wear it well.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but don’t go getting any more, okay?”

“Kay…” His head drops, and you're almost convinced he’s fallen asleep.

You finish rinsing off quickly, not wanting to keep him waiting. When you step out, towel wrapped around you, he’s still there, still on the verge of crashing into a well-deserved slumber. 

You cup his cheek gently, brushing your thumb beneath the bruising. “Come on then. Bed time.”

You ease him under the covers, his body heavy with exhaustion but still clinging to your touch. You fluff the pillows behind his back and smooth the blanket over his chest.

He blinks up at you, lids low, lips parted in a dazed little pout.

“Comfortable?” You whisper, brushing his hair back again.

He nods once, slowly. Then:

“...Can I kiss you?”

You freeze just slightly, caught off guard by how soft, how sincere yet random the question is.

“What?…” You ask gently, lowering yourself onto the bed beside him.

“On the lips.”

His voice is quiet. Barely there. Not demanding, just hopeful. Shy almost.

You study him for a moment. His eyes are a little glassy, lined with fatigue.

“I think I’m in love with you…” He says it like he’s in awe, muttering the secret like he couldn’t keep it in anymore. 

Your breath catches. “You are?”

“Mhm.” He nods again, more firmly this time. “You’re so pretty…and kind…and lovely…and sweet.”

“Wow…”

He gives you a crooked, sleepy smile, like he’s proud of himself for getting the words out.

You lean in and kiss his forehead first. Then his cheek. Then, finally, your lips brush his, soft and lasting, careful not to press too hard near the cut.

His lashes flutter.

“Good.” You whisper. “Because I’m in love with you too.”

He sighs. A little breathy, content sound. And then, like your words flipped a switch in him, his eyes finally close for real.

You slide in beside him, careful not to touch his bruises, and pull the blankets up over both of you. He shifts automatically, instinctively, curling into your chest like he belongs there.

You press a kiss to the top of his head, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his back as his breathing evens out.

You’re both completely wiped and considering everything that’s happened today, you sleep the best you have in weeks.

Taglist:

@thefandomplace @silkholland

[corvessa]

Crash Logs, Comfort And A Ton Of Kisses

a/n: I wanted some comfort fluff today, so you're all getting comfort fluff today. Still kept in some of the tech-side drama (because our girl’s a senior dev, obviously), but I tried to keep it light enough for anyone to follow. Let me know if you'd ever want a more code-chaos version too 👀💻

Summary: After a long, frustrating day full of code crashes and junior dev chaos, reader comes home completely drained. Luckily, Theo’s there—with a warm chest to collapse onto, a patient ear, and a whole lot of kisses to turn the night around.

The door clicked shut behind you like a period at the end of a sentence you never wanted to write. You didn’t even bother to take off your jacket—just dropped your bag by the entryway, sighed hard enough to deflate a balloon, and trudged into the living room like gravity was out to get you.

Theo looked up from the couch, where he was half-wrapped in a throw blanket, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. He saw your expression and sat up instantly.

“Rough day?” he asked softly.

You didn’t even respond. Just walked over and collapsed onto the couch, limbs heavy, tension practically radiating off your body. Your head found his chest like it belonged there. It kind of did.

He just wrapped an arm around your back and let you sit in the silence you clearly needed. His fingers traced slow, comforting lines along your arm, giving you time.

Eventually, you mumbled into his hoodie. “I’m going to scream.”

“Should I get the pillow?” he asked.

You huffed a quiet laugh, but didn’t move. “You know what sucks?”

Theo hummed. “Many things.”

“One of the junior devs on my team made a change to the system today—something that was supposed to help automate an update process. But they didn’t test it properly, or run it by me. Like, at all.”

Theo let out a sympathetic noise.

“So when it got pushed live, it broke… literally everything.”

“Everything as in…?”

You lifted your head and gave him a look. “Imagine the ‘undo’ button broke, then exploded, then somehow set the desk on fire. That’s what I walked into this morning.”

“Oof.”

“And of course I’m the one who had to fix it. Because I’m the one who understands how the whole thing fits together. I was chasing down bugs, reworking code, rewriting logic like a madwoman, and trying to not lose my mind while doing it.”

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Did you at least eat?”

You shook your head. “Forgot. Between meetings and damage control, I didn’t even realize what time it was until my stomach started yelling.”

Theo pulled a dramatic face. “Crimes. I should file a formal complaint to... someone. Anyone.”

You sighed and leaned back into his chest. “I just wanted a normal day. A boring day. The kind where I could work in peace and maybe treat myself to lunch without the sky falling.”

“Well,” Theo said, shifting under you, “you’re home now. No sky, no bugs, no code. Just me and this couch.”

“And the fact that I’m starving,” you muttered.

“I’ll feed you,” he promised. “But first... something more important.”

Before you could ask, he began pressing gentle kisses across your forehead. Then one to your cheek. Then your temple. Then another, right at the bridge of your nose.

You blinked up at him. “What are you doing?”

He smiled. “Debugging you.”

You snorted. “Theo—”

“Hold still, I’m not done. I counted at least twelve things gone wrong today. You need twelve kisses.”

“Kisses don’t fix—”

He kissed the corner of your mouth.

“—okay, maybe they fix some things.”

“Exactly,” he said, and kissed you again, this time just to make you laugh.

You did. A soft giggle, muffled against his hoodie, followed by a little sigh as you relaxed into him fully, the stress slowly leaving your body.

Theo pulled the blanket around you both. “Feel a little better?”

“Yeah,” you said, smiling into his chest. “You’re annoyingly good at cheering me up.”

“I do my best. You want to keep ranting or shut your brain off for a while?”

“Maybe both,” you whispered. “Just… stay like this with me for a bit?”

“You got it,” he said softly, one more kiss landing on the top of your head.

And you stayed there—no chaos, no code, just warmth.

[ellitx]

Did you play the summer event? I swear Venti was soo hot throughout the whole quest... I wanna have like a little smut where reader and him get it on while others are busy exploring the area.. and flirting while others aren't looking..

I have!! Throughout the event im literally screenshotting each scene he appears in from start to finish lol

His archon self when they entered mare jivari is so fucking hoott ughhh serious venti hits so differently like god im already down on my knees and id let him do anything to me 😩

I can def see him being so touchy touchy with his darling even before they meet up with bennett and friends. And you know that one scene where they had a picnic outside? Expect a little quickie with our wine loving bard after dinner somewhere behind a tree while everyone’s exhausted and full ;)

He’s not satisfied with how small the cup is drinking those aphimeads so he needs something else to satiate his thirst. Venven’s gonna pull you behind a tree then kneels down and lifts your dress up so he can suck and drink your sweet pussy. He’s going to ignore your small whines and instead lift your leg to rest over his shoulder and press his face deep between your thighs, continuing on sucking and lapping over your folds and leaving some few bites and kisses against your inner thighs.

Venti’s too impatient to wait and return to your accommodation. If he wants you now, then he fucks you now. He’s also going to be a tease, saying you need to be quiet otherwise others would find you both in such a state.

There are times he’d intentionally slurp loudly just to gauge a reaction from you, but he always gets a small kick as a retaliation while you yourself are trying your best to stifle your own noises bcs that’s just how fucking good his tongue is flicking and moving inside your walls.

Your fingers would quickly reach for his hair, letting the beret fall off of his head without a care, and grip tightly onto those dark locks, tugging them as you try to anchor yourself against the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. Venti’s only spurred on by this and god forbid not only did his tongue would delve deeper, he also added his fingers. His tongue would swirl and his fingers flicked in certain motions that makes your knees buckle that had you almost slipping out a loud gasp and moan.

You could feel the smirk creeping up on his lips against your thighs when he sensed you struggling to keep quiet. The hums that reverberated against your sensitive pussy and the vibrations that sent shivers up your spine was all too much and overwhelming.

Oh but dont think no one has caught you both. Bcs chasca definitely knows what’s going on behind that particular tree. She saw the two of you sneaking off, but she won’t say a word to save you from embarrassing yourselves by telling the rest of the group that the area you’re both hiding at is under maintenance.

And oh how right she was when both of you returned and she sees you fidgeting with your dress and venti licking his lips as if he’s savouring the sweetness of the aphimead he drank.

She’d only quietly offer you a tissue then leave without a word so you can wipe off the remaining fluids that still drip down your legs.

[sydwritess]

The Life of Racing Pt. 17

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: through it all, the racing, the media, the meetings. What matters to Lando the most is you. His home life is just as important as track life. Some days, he doesn't balance it easily. But through it all, the both of you try. Going through some challenges, but always coming out together, hand in hand again.

Second Person POV

Notes: my first F1 series! Requests are open!

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

The race weekend went by quickly. It's Sunday. You were in the garage watching the race from the computers, and Zak was sitting right next to you, occasionally looking over at you.

The driver's all zoomed by, the sound of the car echoing off the garages. The last of them were all in a pack, while the other's led.

"And Oscar Piastri win's the Belgian Grand Prix!" The commentator shouts through the mic.

The whole garage develops in cheers and laughter, jumping around out of happiness. You sat there silent, watching as Oscar pulled his car off to the side, hoping out and running up to his team.

Lando came around in seconds, parking and getting out, going straight to his mom. You knew not to follow. It was his weekend again. His whole family was here.

You saw from the screen, Lando's mom hugging him tightly, telling him it was okay.

He quickly let go, reaching to hug more of his family before walking your way. His eyes stayed on yours, and his team gave him gentle pats on the back to which he turned to for split seconds.

"Do you want to go?" You ask. He nods his head. You both walk through the garage, exiting through the back and walking through the building.

You get to his driver's room, and he walks in first, putting his helmet aside and sitting on the couch. You sit next to him, slowly rubbing his back.

"Why does he always do this to me!" He says, throwing his head back.

"I think it's... rivalry at this point." you say slowly.

"What did I even do?"

"Win Silverstone."

"That was my home. It's literally my home. What did he expect." His tears fall into his fireproofs.

You grab his loose hand, laying it on his lap with yours. "It'll be okay."

"I just- can't..."

"Say what you need to say?"

He nods.

"You can say it with me. You know I wouldn't judge."

"It's just... I never thought we would be rivals over a race. I understand it's competitive but we are like best friends. I don't get it."

"Sometimes it can happen." You say slowly. "I think maybe... a part of him sees how good you are and wants to be like that. He did look up to you when he first started, so maybe he thinks that now."

He looks over at you. "But still."

"But still." You smile, wiping his tears away. "Don't cry. It's very sad." You say in a pouty voice.

He lets out a small laugh before wiping his tears away. "I don't even want to go out there."

"You don't have to, but... your favorite interviewer is interviewing you again."

He gasps. "Really? But how?"

"I pulled some strings." You smirk and stand up, reaching your hand out. He grabs it and pulls himself up, walking out of the room with you.

You walk down the hallway, reaching the opposite side of the paddock where the post race session was.

One of the McLaren journalists was there, holding out a pen and clipboard for you. You openly take it and go sit down in the interviews chair, comfortably crossing your legs and resting the clipboard on them.

Lando sits down on the left of the couch in front of you. Charles comes in a moment after, sitting on the opposite side.

"How long is this going to be?" Lando asks, annoyed.

"Only a couple of minutes." You reply, writing stuff down on your clipboard.

"You just got here." Charles laughed. Lando rolled his eyes, slouching down along the couch.

The room starts to slowly fill in behind you, person by person, until Oscar shows up.

He sits right in the center of the couch. Eventually everyone that was supposed to be there was seated. They closed the doors and began rolling the camera.

"Hi guys." You say teasingly, they all chuckle. "Charles... let's start with you. How are you? How you doing? How you feeling?"

"I'm doing good." He smiles. "Excited."

"Excited? For summer break?"

"Yeah."

"Couldn't agree with you more." You smile. "How'd you feel about the race today? Uhm- how was..." You trail off, leaving the boys confused.

"I can't read that." You mumble. You turn to Andrea who was rolling the camera. "Can you read that?"

"It's just asking about the car and stuff." He replies.

You giggle. "Sorry, going blind here. So Charles, how was the drive today? It looked good out on track, the car and everything. Also got a little concert time I hear."

He picks his mic up. "Yeah the car ran smoothly, it was nice but hard switching over from rain one day to sunshine the next so... and yes, my team did play some music for me." He laughed.

"Good. That's always fun to hear. What kind of music?"

"I uh- a Coldplay song."

"Ohh is that right." You write some more stuff down. "Yeah they're the ones that had the two CEO's get caught out huh."

"I'm not exactly sure." He responds. Some of the crowd laughs behind you.

"Continue with important questions." Andrea whispers.

"This is important, Andrea. Man's got to have his music. Uhm anyway... I'm glad to hear everything went well with that. Do you feel the need to like... build more improvement, or do you think the car, and yourself, is at its peak."

"Honeslty, I think the car could have more improvement, just like small changes, nothing major. But I think it could be a problem on my end to, maybe something I need to improve." He trails off.

"That's what we like to hear. You know, third is good, great actually, but man... I bet finishing first just feels like you're at the top of the world."

He nods his head silently.

"That brings us to Lando. Lando, how are you feeling? Second home race, good, bad, in the middle? What's going on in that mind of yours?" You ask slyly.

"I'm feeling good. Yeah, not many people know that it is practically my second home, uh- here in Belgium, you know. I think we had a good race today, I feel like- like Charles said it was difficult to get uses to the wet to dry track. I feel like I could have done a bit better over all but... yeah." He smiles.

"Cool, that's what we like to hear as well."

"Try to not say 'cool.'" Andrea whispers.

You turn to him. "Would you like to do this? God, I can't say anything up here, can I?" Your mic was lowered, but Lando had caught what you heard, snickering a laugh.

"Anyway... so Lando, you feel like you did great today, that is very... good. How uhm- you going to celebrate?"

"Yeah." He smiles. You didn't know what he was going to say. "I'm taking my girlfriend and we are going to take a big fat nap while watching her favorite movie."

"That is so sweet. I'm sure she would love that. You know, the employees here just work so hard- I mean, I assume she works here, yes?"

"Yeah she does. She works extra hard with our team so... props to her. And props to here for letting me play music in the car as well." He smirks.

"That is so good of her. What are you into?"

"They played Post Malone and... Bad Bunny."

"Love those. Good choices there. So, overall, today was a good day? Got the family watching we've seen, and well, obviously, you got second, so it must feel good too."

"Yeah it does. We tried to shoot for first but it just... didn't work out unfortunately."

"Yeah, I'm sure it was tough. Any specific complications or just in general."

"Mostly in general, I'm sure uh- the people know how hard it is. And it's hard to pass people when they're in first place, so... but I feel like that's expected. Once you're in first, you kind of have that easy slip stream unless you box then... people may pass you."

"Completely understandable. Well, we still love to see second place or- any place, really, you know people work hard. Some people don't so much, but clearly, there's a spot made for all of you here."

"Yeah, it still feels good." He smiles.

"Oh, I'm sure it does. Now... onto our first place guest. Oscar, how are you? How are you feeling? How you doing?"

"Is that a question you ask everybody?" He asks coldly. Landos head snaps over towards him.

"I guess I'm just different." You smile.

"Yeah... I'm feeling fine. Tired. Happy. The usually."

"First place has good and bad perks." You comment. "You going to celebrate?"

"No. Mostly just uh- staying home."

"That's- that's an option to. How'd you feel out there? The car, the team, anything?"

"It was a good day today. It's a bit tough, but we got through it. The team was great, they helped out in everyday possible you know."

"No music today?"

"No."

"Probably how you got first. No music No distraction huh?"

"I suppose so."

"So... your family was here also. As we've seen on camera. How did it feel? We don't get to see them much. We're they excited?"

"Very. They thought it was a lose at first but... just seeing the smiles on their faces made it better."

"That's always good. Live some family support out there. How was the car today? Any complications?"

He shakes his head. "No. Everything ran smoothly, I think what got me behind was the first pit stop, but then I easily caught back up."

"That's good, that's good. Now, saying you caught up... can you describe that for us?"

"I- I mean, there wasn't to far of a gap between me and first place. So using that slipstream made it efficient."

You see Lando roll his eyes slightly. "Yeah... I bet. Do you feel like you could make room for improvements?"

"No, I think everything is set perfectly. Honesty I feel like one little change could mess everything up."

"Like taking firs tplafe right feom your hands?"

He laughs nervously. "Maybe."

"Alright. Well... thank you guys for this interview." You smile. Andrea stops rolling the camera. You get up, slightly rolling your eyes.

"We'll take the official interview tomorrow." He whispers.

"Good. I don't think I could last another second in here without lunching a hole through the wall." You say coldly.

"What happened now?"

"Now? Uhm I don't know Dre. I get their teammates and all but Lando went straight to his room and cried because his best friend took first place sway from him. Because he's jealous."

"Wait... Oscar's jealous?"

"Yeah. All because he messed up at silverstone."

"Alright, I'll just-"

"Hey, you ready to go?" Lando says behind you.

You trust to him quickly. "Yeah, do you want to meet me in the garage?"

He nods his head and smiles, silently walking out.

You turn back to Andrea. "Look. I get not everyone wins. Not everyone wins all the time. But their fucking teammates. If this goes any further, I don't know what the fucks going to happen."

"Just go rest. You two need it."

You walk out of the room, going straight to the McLaren garage to find Lando standing there with his arms crossed, Oscar yapping away at him.

"Are you ready?" Lando asks.

"Yeah sorry. Apparently I'm a bad interviewer." You say, grabbing your bag and slinging it across your shoulder.

"At least you didn't ask common questions." Oscar puts in.

"Yeah... see you tomorrow?" You ask quickly. He nods and walks away, leaving you and Lando to walk down the paddock.

"God." He mumbles.

"One race and were done for the summer." You grab his hand, quickly walking through the paddock and down to the motor homes.

On the way, you see Max qalk up to. "Hey, good job, mate." He shakes Lando's hand. Lando smiles and continues walking.

You reach the home, Lando pulls the door open and walks in, going straight to the bedroom and taking his fireproofs off.

You sit gently on the couch that was by the door, sitting in silence before he came out again. He grabs a water bottle from the fridge, sitting down next to you.

"Zak asked why you didn't ask proper questions today." He said slowly.

"I was being unique."

He turns his neck to you. "I love that."

"Love what?"

"You secretly trying to come at Oscar without him knowing."

You move closer to him. "I love when you had that look in your eyes. Like you wanted to break him in half after his first response."

His eyes soften. "Because I wanted to."

"I know but I think one more strike and your out."

"Until Nascar season starts."

You laugh. "I think as much as you say that, you will not survive Nascar."

"And why is that?"

"Because they go around in literal circles and stay compacted next to each other."

"Me to." He smirks. You open your mouth, then close it when there's a knock on the door. It opens slowly, and Cisca walks in.

She smiles brightly. "Did you do it?"

Lando turns quickly to her as his eyes widen.

"Do what?" You ask innocently.

"Oh- oh! Sorry I was talking about the interview. I forgot you do it right after the race." She quickly responds.

"Oh, yeah." You smile.

"Can we go talk?" Lando asks his mom. She nods her head and they both step outside. You sit there confused, and silent until Lando walks right back in again.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah she was just confused about the times. I don't know how." He chuckles awkwardly.

"Busy day." You suggest.

"Yeah. Totally."

You glace over, sighing. "Don't let this determine who you are. You can always try again." Your lips curling into a smile.

Hey loves! Pt. 17 is here! Comment to be added to the tag list! Requests are open!

Tag list:

@mimisweetz @latay7 @lex2205 @dakotapaigelove @landofotographyy

[lillyspeakz]

literally just smut. can be any bursona.

Not edited at all

-

“So good baby- fuck you’re so tight around me, what a good little slut.” Wilbur groans out as he grips your hips in his hands, squeezing them tightly as he sinks deeper into you.

Your back archers further for him, face against the pillows as his pelvis meets your ass, his cock resting heavily inside of you. He was big, no point in lying about that. But when you’re lying on your stomach, weightless for him to use anyway he wanted, he felt huge inside you, and you loved it.

Which that seemed to be why you chose the position for the current moment. As he sat there, legs straddling your hips as he waited for your go ahead, you reached your hand down underneath you, resting it on your stomach where you found a decent sized bulge. Pressing down on it, you and Wilbur moaned out in unison, his tip pushing against your cervix as you tightened around him even more.

Wilbur braced himself against the headboard, pushing himself somewhat deeper into you, if it was possible. It was all too much, you needed more. Both of you did.

“I swear Wilbur, if you don’t move right now, I’m not helping you get you- oh fuck!” You screamed out into the pillow as he brought his cock all the way out and slammed it back into you, grabbing the back of your head and lifting it up as he did.

“Huh? What was that? Was the little slut trying to tell me what to do? You’re so cute-“ Wilbur leant down, lips brushing against yours as your eyes closing, awaiting for his warm lips on yours.

Not even a second later, the man thrusted hard inside of you, hitting your g-spot with his tip as your eyes opened in shock, only to roll back into your head. You let out a pornagraphic moan as Wilbur laughed at you, and continued his thrust, his pace slow yet thrust deep.

“That’s it baby, be a good slut and take all I give yo- holy fuck!” Wilbur’s cocky attitude tumbling in seconds as you met his thrust and tightened around his cock.

“Aw did big, strong Wilbur fall for my little game?! Maybe you’re not as good at this that you claim to be! Maybe you’re just as pathetic as D-“ Wilbur placed his hand on your head, shoving your face in the pillow as he thrusted faster inside of you.

“Shut the fuck up. You do not get to compare me to that fucked up asshole! And we both know I’m as good as I claim to be. Hell- you admitted it to Q the other day!” Your eyes widened up at Wilbur as he laughed manically at your expression.

How the fuck did he know about that?!

“Aw don’t look so scared baby, I’m not mad! I’m actually quite flattered, talking to other guys about how good I am to you, how I can make you cum just from my words, how my fingers work magical things on you. How my cock makes you go dumb after one thrust. Fuck- I knew you loved this, but not that much.” Wilbur said to you as you adjusted himself.

He lied his upper body down on top of your back, kicking his legs out from beside you, putting his full weight on you as he did. “You doing ok, my love?” He whispered in your ear, the words soft and caring, a complete turn around from his previous words.

Wilbur always made sure you were doing ok when things got a bit rough or a sudden shift had changed. You guys might not be on the best of terms, but hell, if you weren’t enjoying any of this… there’s no benefit for him either.

He gains pleasure from your pleasure.

You nodded your head at him, hands squeezing the pillow beneath you as you did. Apparently that wasn’t enough for Wilbur, earning a hum of disapproval as he lifted up off of you, bringing his cock out of you, yet leaving the tip. The sudden sensation earned a whine from him, making him softly laugh.

“Words. Are you ok?” Wilbur sternly asked you, his words still soft.

“Yes. I’m ok. Brillant. Amazing even!” You got out softly, a smile coming over your face as Wilbur placed himself back on top of you, his tip still teasing you. “Please. Please Wilbur.”

“I know, darling. Doing so good for me..” Wilbur whispered to you, his arm coming around your neck to hold you in a headlock sort of position, while his hand grabbed yours in his own, squeezing the limb as you reciprocated the affection.

“Now be a good slut and let me ruin you-“ Wilbur’s sweet attitude quickly being shoved out the window as he thrusted inside you quickly, his pace going as fast as he could in this position.

His arm around your neck held your face up from the pillow, holding onto the limb with your free hand as empty screams left your mouth. Your nails clawing and scratching at his skin as he continuously hit your cervix head on, broken cries leaving your mouth as he whispered small comments about you, degrading or praise.

“So good for me baby, taking me so well.”

“Such a slutty hole, always wants more- fucking greedy.”

“Come on baby, just a little more- you can take it, I know you can. Good girl!”

“Leaking all over the place baby, so messy for me-“

Every comment led to another moan or cry of pleasure.

And Wilbur took them all in with delight.

“Wil! Wil please- I’m gonna cum, please let me cum!” You whined out to the man, hips meeting his thrust, hand squeezing his more tightly than before.

Wilbur could feel your orgasm approaching, your hole tightening around his member in a tight grip, making him moan in your ear.

“I know baby, hold on.” Wilbur spread your legs a bit wider, bringing your hips up with him as he knelt behind you. Your back arched deep, the bulge stretching your stomach out even more than before, making you moan at the feeling. “So good for me, feel how deep I am inside baby, I’m the only one allowed to make you feel this way, got that? I’m the only one allowed to stretch this hole to its limit, the only one allowed to make you go dumb from my cock, the only name you scream. You’re my slut to use, and my baby to hold when needed, ok?” Wilbur whispered into your ear, earning a whine from you as you nodded.

“Yes yes. All yours. Always have been, Wil… please use me, please please-“ your words were cut off by his thrust, your mouth agape as he thrusted hard and fast into you.

“Fuck- you drive me crazy, you know that? You have me wrapped around your finger and I love it.” Wilbur groaned out as you squeezed once more around him, your nails digging into his arms once more.

“gon’ cum! Let me cum! Please- baby please!” You begged the man above you as his thrust became sloppy and miscalculated.

Slipping his free hand underneath you, his fingers met your clit, rubbing small, tight circles around your bud. “C’mon baby, cum for me. Cum for me and show me how good I make you feel.”

You were gone after the first sentence. His sweet voice melting your body as you let go of the pressure in your stomach. Your hips met his once more as your back arched deeper into the mattress, a delayed scream making its way out of your mouth as his thrust continued, riding out your high.

Your body shook as his thrust got faster and faster, not caring about precision or anything else besides the way your walls squeeze around him.

“Cum inside me… please! Please I’m begging you-“ you whimpered to him as his thrust slowed inside of you.

Your words made him cum on the spot, never imagining them to come out of your mouth but nevertheless happy about it.

Wilbur groaned out in your ear, as he fell on top of you, hips still stuttering inside of you as his orgasm hit him and he filled you up. He hid his face in your neck, mind still reeling from the orgasm, holding you tightly against him.

“Did so good for me, so good for me my angel…” Wilbur whispered out to you as he started to get off of you.

Before he could pull out, you quickly grabbed the back of his leg, stopping him from making any more advances.

“Stay inside me, please. Wanna feel you still.” You muttered out, sleep creeping up on you as you lied there, the weight of his cock inside you making it even harder to stay awake.

Wilbur could feel his dick stir again from they request but didn’t do anything about it, just wanting to lay with you for as long as he can before you both would go back to your ordinary ways and pretend there was nothing going on between you two.

Rolling over, Wilbur’s chest was pressed against your back as he shuffled closer to you, pressing himself deeper inside of you while he did. You both hummed at the sensation, the warmth and the first at he fit inside you as asking you both into an easy rest.

“Hmm I love you..” you whispered to the man behind you, falling asleep after the words were uttered, leaving the man shocked behind you.

The words struck him with hope and fear. What if you didn’t mean it? But why would say it if you didn’t? He had so many questions that would have to wait, but with you, he could wait a lifetime and be alright.

“And I love you. Sleep tight my love.”

[skitskatdacat63]

What does one do in the situation of a centipede falling into their bed 🙃 genuine question

[yeriminder]

pondering a gravity falls fic. might just freestyle in word and see what happens

[monicaalexandraaa]

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH🥺🥹

I’m obsessed with this man !!!!!!! He’s so sweet and sexy and caring and kind. I LOVED her being a bit more vulnerable in this too !!!!!

“I miss you every time we aren’t in the same room together.” You confess making Harry’s whole body feel like it’s buzzing as his eyes soften and his face breaks out into a grin. During the short amount of time the two of you have been together it’s usually Harry who makes the cheesy confessions while you just smile and tell him you feel the same, this is one of the first times he’s gotten to hear your sweet voice letting him in on how you feel without being prompted.

And then when she told him she really didn’t like waking up alone😭😭and of course he’s immediately making up for it. Being all sweet and the way he talks to her !!!!!😩😍

These two are one of my favorites of yours !!!! I loved this so much🩷🩷

I know you’re not feeling well but if you’re motivated could maybe soulmate smells reader have a moment where she misses Harry? Because I miss him😭

Hii babes!! I have some energy today so I hope you enjoy this! 💖

Find Soulmate Smells here

CW: fluff, smut and soulmate style obsession and dirty talk.

Tag List: @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia @tulips4harry @gmikaelson @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @namoreno @blckburd @triski73 @mema10 @angeldavis777 @maudie-duan

WC: 3.6K

A/N: This is what I came up with that has you missing Harry and it’s super fluffy and dramatic but also a decent amount of smut because I’m in a mood😂 also I’m sorry if this isn’t the best I feel rusty as hell but I’m getting back in the groove with writing!✨

Summary: Harry goes for a run and you wake up alone and missing him✨

Harry tries his best to be quiet, he knows you’re still probably peacefully tucked in the bed the two of you now share ever since he managed to convince you to move in just a month after meeting you at the farmer’s market. He has a smile on his face as he toes off his running shoes, having gone for a quick little run around the neighborhood after waking up earlier than normal. Even though it slightly pained him to leave you, something he has learned to deal with anytime he has to be more than a few feet away from you, he just leaned down and gently pressed a feather light kiss to the top of your head not wanting to disturb you before heading out of the bedroom. He’s only taken two steps into the kitchen when he hears it, and it has him stopping in his tracks.

Your voice.

“Harry?” He feels as if his heart is being squeezed in his chest as the tiniest hint of sadness works its way into your voice as you call out for him. He turns so he’s facing the hallway the bedroom is on and the sight in front of him nearly has him dropping to his knees at how adorable you look in his faded Rolling Stones shirt and a pair of fuzzy socks because your feet don’t quite like with how chilly the hardwood floors of his house tend to get.

“Harry? You-you weren’t in bed.” Your words are jumbled together with sleep still evident in your tone letting him in on the fact you haven’t been awake that long. He watches as you stand there, right in front of the bedroom door with a hand coming up to cover your mouth as you let out a small yawn and the other knuckling tiredly at your eyes. You have a confused sort of pout on your face and it has Harry rushing down the hall until he’s cupping your face in his hands and tilting your head up ever so slightly so you can look up into his eyes.

“I’m here baby.” His velvety soft voice has a sleepy smile working its way across your face as he leans down to press his lips to your forehead in a sweet and soothing gesture. “I went on a run I didn’t-”

“I missed you.” Your confession is mumbled but Harry hears it just fine. “I woke up all alone and didn’t know where you were.” You explain and your words hit him like a punch in the gut that has his heart threatening to crack open at the thought of you waking up alone and needing him, just for him not to be there.

“I’m sorry sweetheart next time I’ll leave you a note okay?”

“Next time just wake me up.”

“But then you won’t be able to go back to sleep.” He tells you as he leans down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose earning him a quiet little giggle as your hands reach up to cup his face. “You know I don’t like bothering you when you’re asleep.” He adds as he leans back just enough so he can give you a look that has your heart turning to mush at how sweet and genuine it is.

“I woke up when you bumped your toe on the edge of the bed trying to get dressed in the dark. But then I was able to fall back asleep.” This has Harry letting out a sigh, he swore you were still fast asleep when he kissed your head as a silent goodbye.

“Baby.” He whines as he drops his hands down to your hips, resting his forehead against yours. “Why didn’t you say anything?” You let out a small laugh as your arms loosely wrap around his neck while he dips his head into the crook of your neck.

“I didn’t want you to not go…you love your little runs.” You already know the words that are going to leave his mouth are going to be dramatic the moment you feel his lips turn upward into a smile against the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Yeah well-” he murmurs as his lips gently place a kiss to your cheek making you smile as his lips hover just a few inches away from yours. “I love you more than my little runs.” He states before placing his lips on yours in a kiss that has you pulling him closer as he slips his tongue past the seam of your lips, deepening the kiss making you let out a hum of approval when one of his hand slides down from your hip until he’s grabbing at the soft flesh of your ass.

Yours hands play with the hair at the nape of his neck when he finally pulls away with a satisfied grin on his face at how flustered you look. Your cheeks are pink and your breathing is a bit uneven as your love filled eyes stare into his. He gives you a few moments to gather yourself, a hand coming up to lightly hold the side of your neck as his thumb gently runs back and forth on the smooth skin of your jaw.

“I just don’t want you giving things up because of me.” You whisper almost as if you don’t really want him to hear you because you know he’s just going to say something ridiculous in response. He doesn’t mean to, but Harry can’t help but roll his eyes at your silly little statement, pulling you closer to him until he’s fully crowding your space, his feet tucked between yours making your hands have to grab onto the material of his tank top to keep yourself balanced.

“There’s nothing more important to me than you.” His voice has that tone to it that has your tummy doing weird little flips, it’s the perfect mixture of his usual gentleness but with a serious undertone, it’s the voice he uses when he really needs you to hear him and understand he means every word he’s saying. “I’d give up everything if it meant you’d be happy.” He tells you softly before he presses his lips to yours in a sweet kiss that has you smiling when he pulls away.

“I am happy. I don’t need you to give up running or anything else for that matter.”

“And I don’t need you waking up all sad and pouty.”

“Okay so just start waking me up to tell me goodbye if I’m still asleep when you leave to go run or to the studio or wherever it is you’re going.” A part of Harry’s brain registers that what you’re suggesting is perfectly reasonable. But a larger part, the part that is nothing but thoughts of how much he loves you and is constantly swirling around ways he can keep you around all the time so he has some sort of feeling of wholeness is telling him this suggestion of yours just simply won’t do.

“Or I’ll just never make plans to do anything before you wake up so that way you can just come with me.”

“Harry.”

“Sweetheart.”

“That’s ridiculous you know that right?”

“Oh so wanting to spend every moment with the love of my entire existence- the person who was literally made for me is ridiculous is it?”

“Yes because we both know there’s going to be times when-”

“Don’t say it.” His voice drops as he closes his eyes and leans his forehead against yours. “Please don’t say it.” He knows he sounds absurd begging you not to utter a simple sentence that deep down he knows is the truth, there’s going to be times when the two of you won’t be able to be together. With his job he knows it’s going to be unavoidable but for right now Harry is wanting to enjoy living in the blissful bubble he’s made of having you no further than an arm’s length away, being able to love on your whenever he wants.

“Okay.” You whisper as your hands rest on his shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze. “Wanna know a secret?” Your voice is soft but also teasing and it has Harry lifting his head and quirking an eyebrow as he looks down at you.

“We have secrets? This is news to me I thought we told each other everything?” He questions making you let out a laugh at his slightly offended facial expression. You cup his face in your hands, a grin playing at the corners of your month when he turns his head so he can kiss the inside of both palms.

“I miss you every time we aren’t in the same room together.” You confess making Harry’s whole body feel like it’s buzzing as his eyes soften and his face breaks out into a grin. During the short amount of time the two of you have been together it’s usually Harry who makes the cheesy confessions while you just smile and tell him you feel the same, this is one of the first times he’s gotten to hear your sweet voice letting him in on how you feel without being prompted.

“I fucking knew it.” He states with a knowing tone and his lips are on yours before you can even get done giggling. You let out a gasp when you feel his strong hands grip the back of your thighs so he can pick you up, your legs wrapping around his middle while your arms go around his neck. “Knew you missed me just as much as I miss you when you’re not around.” He says with a smirk as he carefully carries you into the bedroom, the sun creating a soft warm glow to the room as it peeks through the curtains.

You try to act like his smugness bothers you, with a roll of your eyes as he lays you down on the bed. His bright green eyes stare into yours as he hovers over you, the cocky smirk still on his face as he leans down and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. You feel yourself melting into him as he lets some of his weight fall on your chest as he slots himself between your legs.

“You want me with you all the time don’t you baby?” His breath is warm on your skin, a shiver runs down your spine as his lips place a kiss to the spot just below your ear. “Want me all to yourself right?” He asks between kisses to your jaw.

“Yes.” You answer with a sigh as one of Harry’s hands travels down your side until it lands on the hem of his old t shirt.

“Yeah? Why’s that sweetheart?” His eyes never leave yours as he pushes the worn out fabric up, you watch his eyes darken when he realizes his shirt and your fuzzy socks are the only things you have on. “Christ baby you’re-shit you’re gonna be the death of me.” He says with a laugh as you spread your legs a little wider and bend one of them, placing your foot flat against the soft comforter on the bed.

“You’re the one who got me ready for bed last night.” You remind him with a smile as you run a hand through his hair as he pulls away just long enough to pull his tank top off and toss it to the floor. “You’re sweaty.” You state making Harry just shake his head as a chuckle escapes him before he leans down and places his lips to the side of your neck.

“It’s your fault I’m all sweaty.” You let out a breathy moan as his lips travel down your neck. “Was in a hurry to get back home.” He explains with a smile as he pulls away and hovers over you so his mouth is just a breath away from yours. “Back to you.” You pull him down for a hungry kiss as soon as the words are finished leaving his mouth, he has to fight back a moan as your hands tangle into his hair and your tongue licks into his mouth.

“Harry.” Your voice is a strained whine as he pulls away, but he doesn’t give you reason to pout for long as you feel his hand slide between the two of you until the tip of his index finger is running up and down your slick folds, feeling how wet and needy you are for him.

“Oh my poor baby.” You can’t be bothered to care how needy and desperate you sound as you let out a whine when he continues to tease your entrance with the tip of his finger. “This why you missed me this morning? Because you woke up all achy and needy for me?” He’s slipping his thick digit into your tight hole before you can even think of responding. The moan you let out is whiney and goes straight to Harry’s cock as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of your wetness, he lets out a groan when he feels your hands clawing at his back when he adds a second finger.

“Always-always need you.” You tell him with a moan as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you at a slow and steady pace that has you craving more.

“I know sweetheart.” He coos in your ear as his thumb starts to rub torturously slow circles over your swollen clit causing you to jump at the sensation. “Always gonna need me to make you feel good-make you feel complete isn’t that right baby?”

“Yes.” Harry smiles at how quickly the word rolls off your tongue as he feels your chest press against his when you arch your back when he adds a little more pressure to your clit. “N-need more please.” You whimper and the desperation in your voice has Harry slipping his fingers out of your wet cunt, his lips find yours before you have time to let out a whine of protest. His mouth moves against yours as if kissing you is second nature, knowing exactly how you need to be kissed so your mind doesn’t have time to even process the loss of his fingers being snuggly tucked up inside you. He just needs his lips to distract you a bit as he slightly fumbles to pull down his shorts with one hand while the other keeps him from completely pressing all his weight against you.

He lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls away from you, his hand wrapping around his hard shaft giving it a few tugs before he’s pressing it up against your slick folds. His eyes close for only a moment, taking a deep breath to try to get any sort of grasp he can on his self control because he knows by the way you jump and let out a gasp when all he does is tease your entrance with the tip of his cock that you’re still feeling the effects of the rather intense evening the two of you spent with each other the night before. When his eyes open they meet yours and the dazed smile you give him as you bring a hand up to cup the side of his face has his heart swelling, instantly having him fill with a deep desire to please you anyway he can.

“Hi love.”

“Hi Harry.” He grins as you run your free hand through his hair giving it a light tug.

“I love you.” You let out a soft moan as he starts to slowly push his thick cock inside of you. “So much.” He says with a groan as your hand tightens its grip in his hair, the familiar stretch making a wave of pleasure roll through you as you feel him slowly fill you up inch by inch.

“I love you too.” Harry moans as he feels your walls already pulse around him as he bottoms out, his head falls into the crook of your neck taking a big inhale of your comforting scent that’s mixed with the faintest hint of laundry detergent. Feeling the sense of fullness and a level of completeness only Harry can give you has a mixture of emotions beginning to swirl around in your chest. It has you closing your eyes as you try to not get caught up in the intense feeling of sadness you had in your heart when you woke up for the second time, but this time you were all alone with no clue where the man you’re madly in love with is.

“I…I didn’t like waking up alone and n-not knowing where you were.” Your sudden admission have Harry using both arms to hover over you, so he can make sure you’re able to get a good look at his face.

“Oh sweetheart.” His heart aches and he wants to swear right then and there it won’t ever happen again as your eyes get glassy and your cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “I’m so sorry-let me make it better baby-let me make it up to you.” He pleads as he pulls out to just the tip before sinking back inside your tight cunt with a slow roll of his hips. “Won’t happen again okay? You’ll never wake up alone again.” He knows he can’t promise that but right now he doesn’t care because he watches your eyes close and your mouth fall open as his hips find a deliciously steady pace, having his cock hit deeper and deeper with every thrust. And when a low moan of pure pleasure followed by his name tumbles out of your parted lips he knows he’s forgiven.

“Missed you so-so much.” Your voice is a mixture of a sigh and a soft moan and it has Harry twitching inside of you.

“Fuck baby I missed you too-was running as fast as I could to get back to you.” He tells you between sloppy kisses to your jaw. “Needed to get home and have you wrapped around me like this so badly baby-shit you have no idea how good your tight pussy feels. It’s heaven and it’s all mine.” You let out a small squeak as his thrusts turn harsher, his lips travel up your jaw until he’s kissing you and you know when the tip of his tongue swipes your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth it’s his way of trying to apologize for the brief moment of discomfort.

“Look at you baby-taking me so well.” He praises as he glances down at where your bodies meet, a low moan bubbling up from deep in his chest as he watches his thick cock disappear into your soaked cunt with each roll of his hips into yours. “Doing so good for me even after I pounded you into the mattress last night until you were a crying mess.” You let out a loud moan as Harry trails a hand down to your chest, softy cupping your breast and giving it a squeeze. “Can feel you squeezing me baby.” He groans as you arch your back into him as the tip of his cock continues to hit the spot that has the pressure building low in your tummy.

“Oh don’t stop-please Harry don’t stop.” You beg as your hands reach to grip the sheets at your sides as you feel your climax threatening to crash into you as Harry starts to give you more determined, desire driven thrusts of his hips. The wet sounds of his cock pumping in and out of your wet cunt fills the room making Harry let out a loud groan.

“God I love the sounds your pussy makes when it’s getting fucked by my big cock baby-you get so wet for me it’s so good.” You feel his lips gently nibble on your earlobe as he gives his hips a little swivel making your hands grab hold of his biceps, your nails dig into his skin as the friction on your swollen clit creates a wave of pleasure that crashes over you.

“Harry-oh god yes yes-oh I love you-so so much oh my god.” Your words are a jumbled mess followed by a cry of his name as your climax hits you like a tidal wave, you see stars as Harry gently fucks you through your release, his own not far behind.

“Shit shit you feel so good baby-fuck please just-just be mine forever I can’t ever go without you oh god oh fuck.” He pants as his thrusts turn quicker and soon you feel the warmth of his release shooting deep inside you, his lips find yours in a kiss that has your hands tangling in his hair as he lets himself fall on top of you, the comforting weight of him making you smile against his lips. The two of you lay in the comfortable silence for a few moments as you try to catch your breath, his head resting on your chest while your hands soothingly run up and down his muscular back.

“That’s the third marriage proposal this week.” Harry lets out a huff as he lifts his head so he can raise an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah well I’ll stop asking when you actually give me an answer.” He teases as he leans down and places a kiss to your lips before laying his head back down on your chest, the fabric of his old t shirt soft against his cheek.

“Yeah well maybe I’ll actually answer when you stop asking while you have your co-”

“I get it.” He says cutting you off with a laugh. “Next time I ask I will make sure we aren’t naked in the bedroom…or the kitchen…or the pool or-”

“Okay okay I get it.”

“I love you baby.” He mumbles into the fabric of his t shirt with a smile. You can’t help but let a silly smile take over your face as you look down at him only to see him staring at you already.

“I love you too Harry.” You watch him move his head so he can place a kiss to the center of your chest over the fabric of his shirt. “Did you really run faster just to get home to me because you missed me?” You softly ask making Harry lift his head as a proud grin works its way onto his face.

“I did. Beat my personal record actually-fastest three miles I’ve ever ran.”

[novaimperia]

★ asking roommate!sukuna to give you some space. literally.

“don’t you think if i could, i would have by now?” he fires back in a drawl, rolling his eyes. 

right now, you two are squished together in a dark supply closet in the campus atrium, bodies pressed so tightly there’s barely any room to breathe. you keep hushed, listening out for any shuffling less than a metre from where you are holed up with your roommate; the door’s locked and there’d be no reason to suspect you’re both in here but neither of you want to take the chance.

because, outside the door, is a girl with a furious appetite for revenge. she had seen you in the hallway around the corner and questioned you. apparently, your roommate owed her a date on friday night but he hadn’t turned up. that was the third time he’d made a promise to her he didn’t keep. not one for the drama, you were intent on keeping yourself out of it, but because the universe hates you, she narrowed her eyes and said that her friends saw you and him coming out of a movie theatre that very evening. 

of course she didn’t listen when you stammered that you didn’t plan to be there with him. you just wanted to be dropped off because it was late but then, for reasons you can’t really imagine, he chose to stay. she didn’t believe you. a ping went off. distracted with her phone for a moment, you skedaddled out of there, wanting to keep your head on your shoulders for a little longer. in comical fashion, when turning the corner, you saw the second person she has on her kill list. 

things quickly got out of hand after that. 

he didn’t fight very much when you yanked him in here nor did he seem very surprised to hear that a girl was out to get him. 

“ugh, where did she go?” the scorned woman screeches. “i’m gonna beat that whore up, i swear. she totally stole sukuna from me.”

‘stolen’ man huffs in amusement. you smack his chest.

she must be on the phone. briefly, you wonder how many people are building up hatred for you on campus by the simple virtue of living with the pink haired promise-breaker. guess his reputation is contagious. crossing your figures, you hope this won’t be a regular occurrence. and, showing no signs of leaving, if the frustrated stomping of feet pacing the hallway is anything to go by, your head slumps against sukuna’s chest in defeat. innocent of all charges, you’re not sure why you felt the need to hide, much less with him when he should be facing the consequences of his actions on his own. 

it’s not as if he deserves your protection – the stubborn bastard won’t move back just an inch even though he obviously knows he’s threatening to flatten you out like a bug against the wall with his towering body.

“just text her an apology or something,” you hiss. 

you can’t see it but you do feel his pierced brow quirk up. “i’m not gonna apologise ‘cause she can’t take a fucking hint. woman’s been hounding me since forever.”

“well, maybe you shouldn’t be asking her out and then flaking. ever thought of that?” mumbling against his shirt, you’re forced to breathe him in. he smells of burnt wood, the leather strap of a guitar, and nicotine. it’s both exhilarating and calming; you’re gonna fall asleep at this rate. 

something gentle and calloused brushes your hair away from your face. it lulls you deeper into slumber. his words vibrate against your cheek, a little aggressive with a tinge of vulnerability. “i didn’t. she made those plans on her own. don’t wanna go on a date with her.”

“oh.”

minutes pass. you can’t hear anything outside anymore. neither of you rush out. despite how cramped the fit is, it’s oddly comfortable. on second thoughts, maybe you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the day here. with him. 

“quit fucking moving; you’re practically humping me a like a dog.”

never mind. 

you flick his nipple in retaliation and yelp when metal meets fingernail. he snorts. a little embarrassed, you retort, “you have a boner pressed right up against my stomach – who’s really the dog here, s’kuna?”

shoving him away, you emerge from the storage closet and take a deep inhale of relatively fresh air. she’s not here anymore. good. hopefully you won’t run into her for a while. you look back. your roommate doesn’t step out, instead he flexes his jaw and rolls his shoulder back, avoiding your eye. the tips of his ears are pink. gruffly, he mutters, “go ahead. wait by my car. i’ll be out in a sec.”

blink. blink.

a sponge smacks into your face when you laugh like a madwoman.

[rexhya]

note — i accidentally posted the hcs before i was done! >~<, more anul content :>

✦ ✦

yandere!prince who drives himself mad over every interaction you have with another male, it's an unspoken rule that no one is allowed to look you in the eyes because the clingy bastard has a careful and constant eye watching over you

anul hardly ever lets you out of his sight, he goes, you go, you go, he goes. it's law.

so on the rare cases where he does have to leave your side, safe to say he's more than just a little grumpy. ( he slit the throat of his personal advisor because he was talking to loud )

your just doing you job, the job you were meant to do, cleaning and preparing for a party held for nobles in his upcoming inauguration. anul is obviously dreading this party, his father is being picky about evey little thing and said he'd banish you if he tries to bring you along. (he doesn't actually care he just is waiting patiently for the day he becomes king and his fathers word will mean nothing)

whats worse is theres this insect on his arm, buzzing nosily to him about nothing, the only good thing that actually came from it's mouth was when she asked about you.

"Oh you mean [Name], she's perfect isn't she?" He doesn't wait for a response, Anetha is dying listening to him go on and on and on about you, and she hardly gets it anyway! Your a maid, born from slum and you're hardly that pretty anyway, what did the Prince of Salttion see in you.

She makes a horrible mistake and tries to find out herself.

"Hello m'lady how may I he—" you don't get to finish your sentence before Anethea's gaurds are stomping you into the ground. It's not like you havent been in a situation like this before, but it's the fear of not knowing if you'd be able to escape let alone survive that makes you sob tears into your blood.

You're shoved into a closet before your found, Anul had tore every room apart looking for you ( literally, the door came flying off it's hinges as you fell to the ground unconscious. ) and sees pure, blood raging red when he cradleds your head in his lap. not even his father tries to reprimand him for his attentiveness to you, who ever had done this would pay in blood.

He can't control his breathing as they cart you away, he's right there with you of course, Anetha watching pleasantly, he catches the look and saves it for later.

When you finally wake up you feel sore, definitely brtter then when you were bloody and hurting in the dank closet but sore nonetheless. Anul is right besides you, his long violet hair wafting on your bed, his face planted into the cushions of the mattress breathing softly. How long had you been out? How long had the prince been here? He certainly didn't look like himself, hair messy, clothes rumpled.

You hesitated for a moment, reaching out to stroke his soft wavy hair, then without warning his jumped up and statched at your wrist. His eyes were bloodshot, (had he been crying, did something else happen while you were out?) and the hold on your wrist was only getting tighter.

"A-Anul, you're hurting me." he lets go in an instant and immediately sits up to hold you in his arms.

"Oh god, I thought you—" he choked and let go to place a kiss on your lips. they were chapped, but warm.

you only blinked, he didn't care that you hadn't kissed him back. "I am going to gut that pig alive you hear me?" he said squeezing your cheeks.

"I am going to peel her insides till they look like confetti alright?" he said desperately, "I failed to protect you, and look what happened. Oh my baby, my poor baby." he cried, kissing your cheeks lettinf his tears fall freely on his face.

"And you [Name], are to never leave my side again, I've already made arrangements for you to sleep with me so it won't be a problem." you flinched at the finality in his words but Anul couldn't tell.

All he could see waa the bruising of your face and a lot of bodies he'd have to dispose of, because he wasn't just going after that noble who'd set you up.

For generations he declared then and there anyone involved (directly or indirectly) in the attempted murder of his wife, would die a shameful and slow death.

[theonewiththefanfics]

An Itch You Can't Scratch (one-shot)

Synopsis: After taking a bad fall, Y/N gets rushed to the ED of Pittsburg Trauma Medical Hospital only to come face to face with a man she had a one-night stand with, and who ghosted her that same morning without a word - Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch. As if her bad day couldn't get any worse than it was...

Pairing: Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x fem!Reader (age-gap relationship (Reader is 26, Robby is implied 46-48))

Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT

Warnings: descriptions of wounds (open breaks), puke, swearing, etc., SMUT

Word count: 13,319 (yeah, this sort of started out like a cute little chaotic story and became... this. I might make more parts to these two, people like it enough, because I already have some ideas, and ideas for other stories too also, let's please pretend like Robby didn't have the worst shift of his life and everyone is happy and alive :) )

Please don't copy my work or repost it onto other platforms. all of the characters belong to HBO Max.

Catch Pt 2 here :)

In all honesty, Y/N thought Sara was overreacting. There was no need to be hauled to the ER on a Monday morning, at seven AM. So, what if she’d slipped in the shower? So, what if she’d hit her head against the towel rack? So, what if she’d sprained her ankle? Y/N could just pop a couple of Tylenol and be on her merry way, but no.

            When Sara had heard the thud and the subsequent crash of shampoo and conditioner bottles, she’d rushed inside the bathroom only to find Y/N sprawled out in all her naked glory. She cursed the stupid bathroom latch their landlord refused to change.

After Sara had had her fill of laughter, she helped Y/N stand, get somewhat dressed (a loose cotton shirt and some shorts), and helped her hobble down the stairs of their apartment, her leg in a make-shift splint of dishtowels and left-over wood paneling from an IKEA dresser.

            A groan of protest escaped her as Sara parked in the hospital parking lot and rushed to the passenger door, opening it for Y/N and helping her get out.

            “You are worse than my mother,” she huffed as she leaned her weight onto her good leg. “I am completely fine.”

            Sara sighed, and Y/N rolled her eyes, knowing what was coming. “My love,” she said. “My other half. The Yin to my Yang, the milk to my matcha. My partner in crime for whom I would kill and/or dispose of a body. I can quite literally see the fucking bone sticking out of your lower leg.”

            “It’s a sprain,” Y/N gritted through clenched teeth.

            “It’s an open fucking break and the fact that you refused to have an ambulance called, boggles my fucking mind, yet here we are.”

            To that, Y/N had nothing to say, but still, she thought Sara was being way too overdramatic. And honestly, if she kept mentioning the real situation of her sprain, making her remember the sound of the snap, how it had been the worst sound she’d ever heard, and Y/N had spent more than twenty years listening to her brother singing in the shower, before she moved to Pittsburg for her job, she would put Sara in a hospital bed herself. And then they could be the ED besties.

            But the worst was the pain that came when Sara reminded Y/N of why she had to go to the hospital.

            It had been a miracle no neighbor had called the cops or the EMTs themselves, though it didn’t necessarily comfort Y/N either. If she could scream bloody murder like that and nobody batted an eye, it didn’t say anything good about the complex they lived in.

            One look down had confirmed Y/N’s worst fears – she had, in fact, broken her leg. Not only that, it was an open break where part of her bone was sticking right out of the meat of her calf. For the first few moments, she’d been in such a shock, that the only thought running through her head was – I look like a poor man’s version of a Disney turkey leg. Then she’d started screaming. And that had made her puke.

            Right then and there, still lying half out of the shower, half on the floor, she’d emptied her stomach. There hadn’t been much in it, just the cup of water she’d drank when she’d awoken, but still. At least Y/N had been in the bathroom when it had happened. Tiles were easier to clean up than carpet, and she already felt bad enough Sara would have to wash the floor.

            But now, as some form of punishment, no doubt, Sara was helping Y/N hobble towards the emergency department of Pittsburg Trauma Medical Hospital, when a sad-looking man noticed them and rushed inside, grabbing a wheelchair, and getting by Y/N’s side in a matter of a second.

            “Here, sit down.” The man, Dennis Whitaker he introduced himself, took hold of her other bicep and moved the wheelchair behind her.

            “I’m fine,” she groaned. “I’m not an invalid. I can make it inside on my own. Besides, that wheelchair could be used for someone that actually needs it.”

            “You actually need it.” Sara levelled a gaze at her. “And I will make you a fucking invalid because I will clock you so hard in the head, you will have a concussion, if you don’t have one from the fall.”

             For a tense second, Y/N stood (or wobbled) her ground, Y/E/C eyes locked onto Sara’s hazel ones which were slowly narrowing with each passing moment until she cursed and said, “Alright fine.” Together Whitaker and Sara lowered the injured woman into the wheelchair. “God, I hate your mom-stares.”

            “It’s the only way to get you to do anything in terms of taking care of yourself.”

            “It’s not!” Y/N protested. “I’ll have you know, I made myself an omelet yesterday for breakfast. Veggies and all.”

            “Yeah, after I berated you that a stale Coke from three days ago, isn’t actual breakfast.” Sara walked side by side as Whitaker pushed the wheelchair into the madhouse that was the emergency department.

            It was fascinating to observe the situation as an outsider – nurses and doctors were like level-headed owls, their heads swiveling this way and that way, as they assessed the patients and their statuses, while the residents and patients themselves, not all, but quite a bunch, were like headless chickens, rushing around and trying to prioritize afflictions or become a priority to the doctors.

            Codes were called left and right, people moved from one side to the other, snapping on gloves and donning protective gear, and in the center of it all, was the command post – the nurse’s station which Whitaker had wheeled her to.

            “Dana, is there a room available?” he addressed a slim, blonde woman, probably the one in charge.

            “Room six is available, what’s the, oh,” she stopped mid-sentence as she noticed Y/N and the bone sticking out of her leg.

            “I don’t mind waiting,” she gave her a sheepish smile. “There’s probably loads of people before me. Besides, it’s just a sprain.”

            “Well, that’s probably one of the worst sprains I’ve ever seen,” Dana deadpanned as she motioned with her head towards someone behind them.

            Y/N shrugged. “Well, I am just special like that.”

            “Yeah, maybe in the head,” Sara grumbled as she gave the charge nurse all the necessary info for the moment. “Speaking of which – she also hit her head when she went down with her… sprain.”

            Dana’s lips quirked up as she hummed and tapped something on her iPad, weaving around the table, leaving Whitaker to follow her like a lost puppy as they moved to the room Y/N was now assigned to. “We’ll schedule you a CT ASAP.”

            Y/N turned her head to look at her best friend. “Given how this little trip was your idea, you’re paying off my medical debt.”

            “Just let these nice doctors and nurses take care of you.” Sara pinched the bridge of her nose. “Because quite honestly, I’m not too into the idea of searching for a new roommate. Do you know how many creeps I’d have to go through? And what if the one normal one I find has a fatal flaw?”

            “Such as?”

            “I dunno. What if they hate musicals?”

            “Oh, the tragedy.” Y/N pressed a hand against her chest as they wheeled her inside the room.

            There was another presence there, a young doctor, probably late twenties or early thirties. A cute little dimple on his chin, dark hair, and blue eyes. Reminded her a bit of the guy from Air Bud, if she squinted a bit.

            “My name’s Dr. Langdon,” he introduced himself, giving Y/N a reassuring smile. “And this is Dennis Whitaker, our fourth-year medical student. Would it be alright, if he and another one of our residents observed the situation today? This is a teaching hospital, but it is well within your rights to refuse.”

            She shook her head. “Observe away. Not much I can hide.”

            “Alright, thank you.” He ventured out for a quick second only to come back with a young woman who introduced herself as Dr. Mel King, a second-year resident. “Okay,” Dr. Langdon said. “Let’s get you onto the bed and see what we’re working with.”

            The three medical professionals surrounded her and helped Y/N move from the wheelchair on the paper-covered bed, without jostling her leg too much, but it was enough.

            So far, she’d been able to take her mind off the pain by distracting herself – she bickered with Sara, recited the script of The Hunger Games movie in her head while fantasising about a blond Josh Hutcherson, because Peeta was just elite like that. She’d even gone so far as to go over the division table, but now, as more attention was being placed on the broken leg, it started to hurt more and more. It was like Y/N mind-over-mattered an itching spot left by a mosquito by chanting “It’s not itchy” over and over in her head, but the second she stopped, the itching came back in full force.

            “So,” Dr. Dimple, she nicknamed him in her head, started. “What happened?”

            Y/N sighed, looking at the ceiling. “Can I just give you the not-humiliating version and say I’m a klutz?”

            He gave her a charming smile as a nurse prepped an IV line. “Unfortunately, we need to know beyond “clumsy”. The environment where this accident happened is important.”

"It could introduce pathogens into the wound," Mel, as Dr. King had requested to be called, said.

            Y/N chewed on her bottom lip before muttering, “I slipped in the shower and sprained my leg. And then got assaulted by some shampoo and conditioner bottles… and then I threw up.”

            “And don’t forget the head!” Sara said from the door where she still stood, observing the work happening.

            Y/N threw her a knowing smirk. “Never do. And I haven’t had any complaints yet.”

            “The throwing up could indicate a concussion,” Whitaker said. “Dana’s already scheduled a CT. And in terms of the leg, you actually have an open fra-,”

            Y/N took hold of Whitaker’s bicep like he’d done so for her when he’d helped wheel her inside the emergency department. “Please listen to me when I say this – unless you want me to hurl all over you, and trust me, I can aim, the only thing I have, is a sprain. Got it?”

            He gulped and nodded, stepping away from Y/N like a man who’d gotten sprayed by too many fluids in one day and didn’t want to be anywhere near the danger zone. “Loud and clear Miss Sprained-Ankle-Woman.”

            “Good.” The nausea that’d started creeping up her belly subsided. “Because I can deal with you people having to do things, but if I have to actually listen to any of it, or think about it, I will be sick.”

            “We can give you some anti-nausea medication for that,” Dr. Dimple soothed. “But first, we’ll get you a CT, and then we’ll have a surgery room prepped for you because you need to get this reset as quickly as possible. You will probably have some metal plates and screws to hold the uh… sprain together, and then a cast for about six to eight weeks.”

            “Great,” Y/N grumbled. “This is just fucking great. This is exactly how I wanted to spend my vacation, before, oh… oh, absolutely not.” Y/N’s eyes widened to a comically large size as she looked past her room and into the waiting area. “Sara, you need to get me out of here right the fuck now.”

            “Hey, woah, what is going on?” Dr. Langdon rushed to where Y/N was trying to get the IV line out. “Please don't do that, you'll only hurt yourself more.”

            “Y/N, what’s going on?” Sara’s brows were pulled tight in a frown, as she tried to help Dr. King get the oxygen monitor back onto her finger. “You need surgery, for fuck’s sake.”

            “It’s him,” she hissed, not taking her gaze away from where it’d locked on. “And I don’t want to spend a second anywhere near the dick.”

            “Who?” Sara swiveled her head to look beyond the glass separating them from the chaos beyond. “Who’s the dick?”

            “Him.”

            And then four pairs of eyes locked onto the man standing and talking with the charge nurse at The Hub, Y/N was glaring at.

            “Do – do you two know each other?” Dr. Dimple asked.  “Do you feel unsafe with him around?”

            “Yeah, you could say we know one another,” she scowled and crossed her arms as Mel managed to finally reattach the oxygen monitor, all of their attention onto her. “That’s the dude I hooked up with two weeks ago, and completely ghosted me that same morning.”

            Every single head snapped to look back at Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch, who’d also finally noticed Y/N was at his workplace, as a patient no less. His eyebrows were right up to his hairline, brown eyes wide with disbelief and mouth agape as she glowered at the older man.

            It was quite a surreal moment – all of these capable doctors and residents and nurses, stunned by the information so bad, that they almost seemed to forget Y/N was there. She wondered what was going through their heads, as this seemed like it wasn’t a regular occurrence. Which stung even more – if Michael had been a fuckboy, she could take it, but it didn’t seem so. So, what was wrong with Y/N that had made him run away after the night they’d spent together?

            When they’d met at the bar, he had told her he was an emergency department attending. The big boss of his little duckling residents, dutifully running the hospital department with the help of the nurses.

Why, when Sara had finally managed to get Y/N inside the car, it hadn’t occurred to her, he would work in this particular hospital. Just why?

Y/N couldn’t say. Maybe she’d hoped he worked the night shifts. Maybe she’d hoped, he worked somewhere else, or even out of town, but, of course, for whatever sins she’d committed, karma couldn’t do her a solid one.

            Sara gasped, rushing by her side as Y/N watched Michael flounder and try and decide what to do – whether to interfere and face the music or run away from the hospital. He apparently chose the latter as he twisted on his heel and high-tailed it to the other end of the department, leaving a cackling Dana behind.

            “That’s him?” Sara strained her neck. “That’s the hot doctor?”

            Y/N scoffed. “The one and only. Couldn’t even leave a fucking note or something. Like I can take a hint a one-night-stand is a one-night-stand, alright? But don’t just fucking bolt out of the door like your ass is on fire before the other party wakes up. Fucking dickhead.”

            “Well, maybe it wasn’t as fun of a night for him, as you thought, and he didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” Sara raised a brow.

            “Oh, trust me,” Y/N smirked. “It was a very fun night for him. I would know. I was there, and you can’t fake the kind of shaking. Four hours will do that to a guy,” she winked and touched the tips of her pointer finger and thumb in an A-Okay sign.

            “Yeah,” it was Dr. Dimple smiling at her, the grin on his face almost wolfish in nature. “Yeah, you are absolutely my new favorite person in the world.”

            However, whatever he wanted to say or ask, was cut short when Dana returned to inform that her CT slot was coming up, and so Y/N was wheeled away, not daring to look at Michael as they passed one another in the hallway.

            As the results came back for a minor concussion, the anesthesiologist informed, that they recommended a spinal for the surgery, while the team prepper, but Y/N shot it down immediately.

            “Absolutely not. Look, I know it’s not safe to go to sleep after a concussion, but I will not be listening to the sounds of some bone-carpenter crunching on my leg. Put me under,” she gave him her most pathetic look. “Please.”

            The specialist still tried to argue, but he couldn’t do it much longer, as Y/N needed surgery as soon as possible, so after five minutes of strongly recommending the spinal, he relented and in half an hour, Y/N had managed to get hers – she was out like a light, without a sound in her ears.

            It was the best sleep she’d ever had in her life. Like floating on a cloud, surrounded by doves and angels singing her lullabies. She never wanted to wake up, but something was rousing her out of the blissful state.

            A large warm hand around her palm, thumb rubbing the top of it, was soothing her senses. It was like hot chocolate after being out in the sow. Or sitting by a fireplace with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

            “Good afternoon, Miss Sprained-Ankle,” a low, rumbly voice greeted Y/N as she floated back into consciousness. Her eyes locked onto two gentle, brown ones, and despite the medication, she knew she wasn’t hallucinating him.

            Michael’s face was beard-covered like it had been when they’d met. He still had the same worry lines on his forehead and the crow’s feet around his eyes. Y/N had said she liked those the best.

            “It shows you’ve smiled and laughed despite everything else,” she’d informed him over the rim of her Pornstar Martini.

            She couldn’t truly imagine just how draining his line of work was, both physically and mentally, but the laugh lines she could see hiding under the beard, harmonizing with those around his eyes, was a feature Y/N had noticed first.

            “So,” she slurred her tongue a swollen mass of sandpaper in her mouth, and Michael noticed that, holding a cup of water against her lips until she’d had her fill. “Do I have to keep breaking bones to wake up with you next to me?”

            “I hope not.” With gentleness Y/N knew he possessed, yet didn’t expect, he brushed away a droplet that’d slipped past her mouth, and onto her cheek. “I hope this is the only time I ever have to see you in such a state.”

            “Can’t promise that,” she shook her head. “I do have a reputation to uphold.”

            “Yeah?” amusement was evident on his weary face. “And what kind of reputation is that?”

            “When I was in first grade, on the first day of school, I broke my arm. And then like a few months later, I smashed my face against a radiator and split my lip open. Still have a scar,” she pointed right below her right nostril where a sliver of lighter skin was. “And then, but that was like third grade or something, I smashed my head against a metal railing and split my head open. I could even push my fingers inside and scrape my -,”

            “Okay, I understand,” Michael interrupted her and pulled the hand that was tapping against the hairline on her forehead. “You are an ED connoisseur, but please, don’t make this a habit.”

            “Damn, straight I am.” Y/N gave a confident nod, but before Michael could ask anything else, she said, “You know what I don’t get? Like why did my leg bone hurt while sticking out of my body, but my teeth that are sticking out right now, don’t?” She clacked them for emphasis. “They’re outside bones.”

            A soft smile bloomed on Michael’s face as he brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead. She could feel someone had put her hair in a protective style and had to wonder if it had been the man beside her. But that wouldn’t make any sense. Why would he care like that for her?

            “For one,” he muttered. “You broke your fibula – the smaller bone in your lower leg, and in doing so, hurt the surrounding things like muscles and skin. That is one reason why you felt such pain. And two – if you broke a tooth, it would hurt too. Your cavities hurt, don’t they?”

            “Mmm,” a self-satisfied smile bloomed on Y/N’s face. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had a cavity.”

            “That’s good. Dentists aren’t cheap.” As a response she just clacked her teeth again, making Michael laugh. “How are you feeling? Any pain? Nausea?”

            “Nope, I am A-Okay. Honestly, that was like the best sleep of my life. Well…” Y/N pouted, taking her gaze away from Michael’s. “That night when I fell asleep with you is also up in the Top 5, but then I woke up and… you know… you weren’t there.”

            She was obviously delirious from the medication being pumped through her veins, but much like when Y/N was drunk, she was a throw-up-remember-everything kind of a girl, instead of a black-out-drunk. Besides, it wasn’t like she could run anywhere. Quite literally.

            Michael sighed, dragging a hand down his face, visibly cringing at her words. “About that… I – yeah, I think the only thing I can say is I’m sorry. For, you know, ghosting, as you youngsters say.”

            “ ‘S alright.” Y/N shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, as if the second she’d seen him, she hadn’t been ready to bolt. “I’m over it.”

            “No, no it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have done that. Because that night was… great. It was amazing, actually. And everything leading up to the uh, you… you know, the...” he cleared his throat, and a smirk pulled up on Y/N’s lips.

            “The sex? Come on, you can say it in your big old man age. It’s just three letters.”

            “Jesus Christ.” Michael rubbed his neck as a slight pink shade crawled up his neck, which made Y/N let out a chuckle at how uncomfortable he looked talking about this. Maybe it was time to let this go, for his sake and her own sanity.

            “Look, if it makes you feel any better,” Y/N shifted to the edge of the mattress and patted the side of her bed, so he could sit down. After asking if she was sure, he did take the offered space. “I – I’ve been treating you a bit unfairly with this. I think my ego was a bit crushed after waking up and not having you there, but, umm… you’re off the hook. Besides, I think I’m in your debt with all of this. Your team is amazing.”

            “They’re pretty great, aren’t they?” he mumbled, one of his hands having moved to toy with the wristband the hospital had assigned to Y/N. “But still, how I reacted then, and even earlier in the morning… it wasn’t right. I mean, I’m pushing fifty for fuck’s sake. That’s not what someone my age does.”

            “So what?” she raised a brow. “The issue is you think you’re a cradle-robber? Because you’re no more that than I am a grave robber. I’m twenty-six, Michael,” she turned her palm up hoping he’d accept it and slide his hand in hers. After a moment of hesitancy, he did, and Y/N squeezed it in reassurance. “I mean, if you think you’re doing something bad, by having slept with someone two decades younger than you, I’ll have you know, according to regency times, as a woman who’ll be turning twenty-seven this year, I’m pretty much a decrepit old spinster.”

            Michael let out a soft laugh as his fingers trailed the lines on Y/N’s palm. “You have your whole life ahead of you. Me? I’m your probably dad’s age.”

            “And looking hotter than ever, if you ask me.”

            “Yeah? You think so?” He asked as Y/N hummed in affirmation. “Well then, for a decrepit old spinster, you are beautiful. And acting with much more grace than I deserved or deserve.”

            Something in the way he said those last few words made her heart squeeze. “Michael… of course you deserve grace.”

            “You’re being far too good to me… you’re far too good for me…”

            Y/N’s brows furrowed at that. Slowly, she attempted to rise in a sitting position, but she didn’t get far before Michael had his arms around her waist, like they’d been two weeks ago, pushing a pillow to stabilize the small of her back. Once he was sure she was comfortable, he opened an apple juice box and handed it to her.

            “To get your sugar up.”

            But she just stared at him, only reaching for the little carton after he’d resumed his previous sitting position. “Is that what this is about?” she asked. “Some insecurity you think I deserve better than you? Because I can decide those things for myself. I am an adult. With a fully-developed frontal lobe, mind you.”

            He took in a deep breath, held it for a second, then released it, and Y/N watched that whatever kind of decision he’d come to, had released a certain tension that’d been accumulating in his body. “Kind of, I guess. But mostly…” he swallowed, then nodded to himself, eyes trained on her wristband. “Mostly I got scared.”

            “Of what?” Y/N tilted her head. “I mean, I know my morning breath probably isn’t that attractive, and the smeared makeup made me look like a coked-out raccoon, but -,”

            “No,” Michael shook his head, chuckling. His cheeks were reddish at her words, but as he lifted his eyes to hers, there was a grateful look to them. Like he was thankful she wasn’t making fun of him even in his ripe old age. “You,” he stumbled over his words a bit, “when I saw you there, sleeping by my side like you belonged… I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful than that. And that’s when I thought to myself – if I worked up the courage, could there be more mornings like that? Could I make you breakfast and coffee one day? Maybe I’d get the privilege of falling asleep next to you as we watch movies at night. And that scared me.”

            “The possible future?”

            “Wanting that possible future, because that feeling, the one that started to grow right here,” he tapped the center of his chest. “I couldn’t think straight. So, I had to go.”

            “I mean,” Y/N swallowed hard. “That is a lot to imagine after only a few hours together.”

            “Does that… creep you out? ‘Cause it’s totally understandable if it does. I mean Jesus, I’m old… and you’re so young.”

            “No, it doesn’t.” And she meant it when she said it. “I find it actually quite endearing, but you can stop being so hung-up on the age difference. If you think there might be some daddy issues on my side, I can assure you – there’s none. I quite like my dad, and I definitely don’t see you as such a figure. Not after the things you did to me. ‘Cause, quite honestly, sex with you was probably the best dicking-down I’ve had in a year.”

            If Michael had been drinking anything, Y/N was sure he would have choked with how he sputtered at her words. “Well, uh, yeah, I uh… I’m glad you… enjoyed it.”

            “I did. And I know you enjoyed it too,” her smile was nothing short of wicked.

            “Yeah, and apparently now the rest of the residents and nurses and doctors know it too?” Michael raised his brows at her.

            It took Y/N a while to realize he was talking about when she’d gotten admitted and spilt the beans on their night together, implying their copious amount of copulation. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, but I’d like to think your reputation has now gone sky-high between the female nurses and doctors. Maybe the guys and theys as well. But I do apologize for talking about your private life while at your work. In my defense, until that very moment, I didn’t know you worked here. And well, I was pissed.”

            “You and your mouth will get you in trouble one day,” Michael pointed at her.

            “Yeah? Would you like to put something in it, to shut me up? Last time, you really liked it when I -,”

            “Okay, trouble, that’s enough.” Even though his words had a finality to them, humor glowed on his features. He seemed relaxed. Content even, as he took the now empty apple juice box Y/N had been sipping on this whole time.

            “You on a break?” She started scooting down the bed once more, and Michael instantly helped her get situated.

            “Want to get rid of me so quickly?”

            “No. It’s just you’re spending an awfully long time with me. Don’t you have other patients to check in on? I don’t want you to waste your time if you need to get to someone else. Or maybe grab a bite to eat? I’m fairly sure doctors don’t know how to have a good work-life balance, despite continuously recommending it to us, mere mortals.”

            “Time with you isn’t a waste.”

            Oh.

            Oh, how badly did Y/N want to rip off the little wires connecting her to the heart monitor, because had Michael not turned the sound off, she was sure the whole hospital would be hearing it go nuts at his words, the squiggling beat of it a treat for only Michael this time, because when he noticed it, a smirk bloomed on his mouth. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to, not when he murmured, twining their fingers together, “I want to kiss you so bad.”

            “I definitely won’t be opposed to that.” Y/N’s answer might have come way too quickly, but she was beyond feeling embarrassed about wanting him. “You have permission to kiss away. For as long as possible. All day, every day, whenever you want to.”

            “Well, thank you for that,” Michael chuckled, cupping her cheek, and she leaned into the touch. “But… not right now. Let me take you out on a proper date. Let me do this right.”

            “Oh my God, seriously?” Y/N whined throwing her head back. “You’re gonna make me wait? Especially after that whole speech and whatnot? You are a cruel, cruel man Dr. Michael Robinavitch.”

            Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he leaned to hover over Y/N, a golden necklace slipping from the inside of his shirt and dangling before her. She wanted to pull it between her teeth like she’d done so during their one night together. It took every dwindling ounce of willpower not to.

            “Maybe, I just want you aching. And yearning. You were the one who said men don’t yearn enough nowadays. But I have. For you, for two whole god-damned weeks. Now it’s your turn.”

            It was pathetic how Y/N wanted to cry and whimper. “But I didn’t even do anything! You were the one that ran out! Why am I being punished for your actions?”

            “Do you – do you not want to go on a date with me?”

            “I do, but I’d rather you rail me as soon as possible.”

            “Well, for one,” Michael tried to continue on as if Y/N’s words hadn’t made heat creep up his face, but he could only do so much. He was a human, after all. “You’re not allowed any strenuous activities until you’ve got a clean bill of health. And two, all teasing aside, I want to do this properly. I want to do right by you this time.”

            “Why would you?” she exasperated. “I wasn’t complaining when you didn’t do it right by me, and I’m certainly not going to if you suddenly decide to stop being chivalrous. Maybe even right here. We could recreate some scene from Grey’s Anatomy?” Y/N wiggled her brows at him, eliciting a deep rumble of a chuckle.

            “Grey’s is just a malpractice lawsuit after a malpractice lawsuit, and I, unlike the characters there, don’t want my medical license to be revoked. Until you get discharged, I’m one of your doctors.”

            “My hot doctor, you mean.”

            The sigh that left Michael was not weary or a worn-out kind of noise. Rather it was a resigned I-guess-this-is-my-life-now kind of a sigh, especially combined with the endearing look on his face, it made Y/N feel warm all over.

            Slowly, as they talked a bit more, her eyes began to droop, exhaustion from the morning, from the surgery and the subsequent consequences settling in once more. “Will you stay?” she asked as Michael brushed a knuckle along her jaw. “Just until I fall asleep?”

            “Of course,” Michael took her hand in his, sitting down by her side again, as he pressed a kiss to her wrist. “And I… I wish I could promise I’ll be here when you wake up, but I, -”

            “I know,” Y/N interrupted him with a soft and understating smile. “By that point, you’ll probably be off saving lives. It’s why I’m not asking you to.”

            “I’ll try though.” He promised.

            “Okay.”

            And with her hand still in Michael’s, Y/N drifted off once again without even realizing it was pitch-black outside, and Michael hadn’t been wearing his shift scrubs. He should have long been home resting, and yet, he hadn’t been able to leave her. Not like he did before.

            By the time she awoke early the next morning, Y/N was clearheaded, and yet all her thoughts mulled over the conversation she’d had with Michael the previous night. Would he go back on his word? Had he only talked with her like that because she was high on pain meds, and maybe thought she wouldn’t remember their discussions?

            She knew he hadn’t promised to be there when she awoke, so Y/N didn’t hold it against him, but she couldn’t deny the sting. But that was immediately soothed by the hoodie that’d been laid over the back of a chair.

            His hoodie.

            A promise he would at least have a reason to come back and check in on her. It was Dana, the charge nurse, peeking her head inside that pulled Y/N back into the present. “How are we feeling today? Ready to be discharged? Dr. Langdon will be with you shortly for a follow-up.”

            The woman in the hospital bed groaned. “Can’t I just stay here? Like you people – you are normal. Sara will be a mother hen on crack. I am willing to brave hospital food, as long as I don’t have to go home to all that fussing. She’s probably already bullied our landlord into installing a lift or something.”

            “She cares for you,” it was Dr. Langdon piping in, as he entered her room, pulling on a pair of gloves and nodding to Dana in thanks. “You’re pretty lucky to have a friend like her.”

            “Yeah, I know,” Y/N sighed as Dr. Langdon looked over her leg, asked some questions about pain levels and talked her through the post-op care. “But in my defense, she has a tendency to overreact.”

            “I’d say you have a tendency to underreact, but that’s just my professional opinion.”

            She rolled her eyes as Dr. Langdon finished his assessment and handed off her chart to Dana, so they could start the discharge process. “God forbid a girl has hobbies.”

            “In any case, I do think the whole ED is in debt to Sara.”

            To that she raised a brow.

            “Well, had she not made you come in, I don’t know if Dr. Robby would have had a chance of seeing you again. Because, if I have to be honest, we’ve all been scratching our heads the past couple of weeks trying to figure out why he’s been in such a mood. Now we know why.”

            “You two shit-talking me?” Michael’s soft tone interrupted the conversation, as he crossed his arms and leaned against the entryway. “How are you feeling?”

            She tried and failed to hide the heat creeping up her veins. Even if Y/N had succeeded, that damned monitor, the sound no doubt having been turned back on by Michael before he left, to make sure if anything went awry at night, someone was there for her, betrayed her anyway. God, she wanted to punch the smile off both the men's faces.

            “Fine.” She turned her head to look at the wall, as a nurse stepped in and removed the IV catheter and wrapped her hand in gauze. “Not looking forward to the itching that will appear, in what? Three days?”

            “No scratching,” Dr. Dimple pointed at her with a pen. “You could injure yourself and cause a serious infection. No rulers, no knitting needles, no crochet needles, no twigs or branches, no nothing.”

            “But what about -,”

            “No nothing,” he emphasized. “Or I will have to recommend Dr. Robby make a house call on you. Though that isn’t much of a threat for you two, is it?”

            “Okay, Frank? Scram. Now. There’re patients that need checking on. I can take care of Y/N.”

            “Yeah, I bet you can,” Dr. Langdon let out a laugh but was out of the room before either she or Michael could say anything.

            The only thing Y/N was happy about, was that the comment had made not only her flustered, but Michael as well, as he shifted on his feet and rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous tick. In the end, he gave her a smile that said “Sorry about him” and padded over to where he’d left his hoodie.

            And that only made her even more flustered, because seeing a man like him, so level-headed and sure, get visibly nervous over her, did things to Y/N. Which made her want to do things to Michael, but then Dana returned, two crutches in hand, Whitaker wheeling a wheelchair once more, and all passion slipped away.

            “Right, thanks.” She eyed the crutches like they were cow-eating pythons. “I fucking hate my life.”

            Low, warm laughter filtered through the room as Dana helped Y/N get redressed and situated her in the wheelchair, crutches placed over her knees as she was rolled to the nurse’s station.

            “I uh, took the liberty of calling Sara for you,” Michael said as he leaned against the table. When Y/N raised a brow in question, he elaborated, “She’s in your emergency contacts. Should be here in fifteen or so.”

            “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

            “I know,” he smiled. “But I wanted to.”

            And there it was again, that warmth that blossomed in her chest, only this time she let it spread, let it wrap around her heart and wash away that bitterness, that’d been there since the morning Y/N had woken up cold and alone.

            It hadn’t been just the sex, though that night Michael had given her some of the most earth-shattering orgasms she’d ever had (thankfully, Sara had been away with her girlfriend, so she didn’t have to suffer through the teasing).

            It was the conversations leading up to it, the sense of ease Y/N felt around Michael. He was witty and sarcastic, his humor dry, but not at the expense of others while being engaging and thought-provoking at the same time. What had sealed the deal for her though was when he actually engaged in the debate, she presented him – if he had to kiss a fish-spider hybrid, what would he choose – fish head, spider body or fish body, spider head?

            He’d made her laugh so hard she cried, and when Y/N had deemed it was time to call an Uber and go home, she’d taken the risk and asked if he wanted to come to her place. And after a few moments where she wanted the earth to open and swallow her whole, he’d nodded.

            Together they waited for the cab, standing side by side, yet not touching. He’d opened the car door for her, before slipping in himself.

            The tension could be cut with a knife, and afterwards, Y/N had given the driver five stars for enduring it, while the whole way, one of Michael’s palms had slowly moved to rest against her thigh, and she’d had to clench them together because if she didn’t, there would be a noticeable wet spot underneath.

            After an agonizing half an hour's drive, they finally got to her place. Michael held the door open for her, and insisted on paying for the Uber, no matter how much Y/N protested.

            Every step towards the apartment she was renting on the fourth floor of the complex, was agony. As she fumbled for her keys, Michael’s fingers were slowly skimming the side of her dress where the zipper rested.

            Y/N’s whole body was a live-wire, and she wondered how in the world had the lock not melted from the heat, as it slid in place and she unlocked the door, the motion now forever having a sexual connotation, for in that moment Michael was the key that would unlock her desires.

            Together, they stepped beyond the threshold, and yet still, he never once removed his touch from her body. From that damned little black number. She’d only worn it because she’d been set up on a blind date. They were supposed to meet up at the bar for a drink before going to a play, but as it turns out, even guys who like theatre can ghost.

            When Y/N realized the situation, she wanted to go home, as her date was the one who had the tickets, pull this thing off and drink the already opened bottle of wine that was in the fridge, but she could have at least one good cocktail before that.

            That’s when Dr. Robby, or as he’d asked her to call him by his first name, Michael, slid into the seat next to her. They didn’t talk for the first five minutes, not until she’d been scrolling through Instagram and some post had caught her eye. Something about green tea enemas and glowing skin, and the man beside had released a heavy-duty sigh, accompanied by “fucking Dr. Google.”

            It’s when slowly but surely, they’d struck up a conversation, which had now resulted in Y/N having Michael towering over her, his beard scratching against the crook of her neck where he’d placed his chin.

            When his hands wove and settled against her stomach, any sort of resolve she’d had, snapped. Instantly, she turned, weaving her arms around his neck and pulling his mouth to hers in a bruising kind of kiss. The kind that left you breathless and dizzy and wanting more.

            She felt an insatiable thrill rush down her spine as Michael responded with just as much vigor, the pads of his fingers digging deep into her hips and pulling her to be flush against his chest, so much so, that Y/N could feel his own desire growing in his groin.

            “I’ve never hated clothes more than I do right now,” she giggled as Michael grappled with the door handle and pushed it close without disconnecting from one another.

            “Then let’s get them off, shall we?”

            The way he dragged the side zipper open, was almost reverent, worshipping even. Like he wanted to prolong the build-up between them, and Y/N couldn’t lie – she was loving it, even if she was losing her mind. So many times, when she’d had hook-ups, guys tended to just get her naked as fast as possible, which was fine. She was down for it, but there was something indescribable about how Michael reveled in feeling her slowly start to tremble, in how he kissed up and down her neck, while his fingers took their sweet time. It drove her insane with want, in an amount she’d never felt before.

            His pointer finger dragged its way up Y/N’s bicep, making goosebumps erupt all over before he slowly slid a strap down. Then the other, until the dress was pooling around her waist, and still, where usually she’d be helping the guy shimmy herself out of the dress, Michael didn’t rush. He simply allowed his hands to explore her body, skimming along her ribs and up to the black lacy number she’d worn, then right back down.

            “You counting if I have all my ribs in place, Dr. Robby?” Y/N let out a shaky breath, trying to alleviate the gathered tension, for she was just about to combust, but all she got was a soft smile as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her neck where her pulse was visibly thrumming.

            “I don’t have much time in my day to stop and admire art. So please, indulge me. And art, which I’m allowed to touch, should be revered even more so.”

            Her eyes may or may not have rolled to the back of her head at his words, and he hadn’t even gotten his head between her legs yet. Yeah, Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch, the attending of a trauma centre, would be the death of her.

Name of the deceased - Y/N Y/L/N. Date of death - 4th of April, 2025. Cause of death – self-combustion. Reason for self-combustion – a sexy as fuck doctor.

            Quite honestly, if that was how she was going to go, so be it.

            Finally, though, after what felt like ages, her dress was shed, leaving her only in her underwear and strappy high-heels she’d worn.

            “If there is one thing I hate, it’s not having a photographic memory,” Michael grumbled as his hands skimmed along the waistband of her panties. “But trust me when I say this, I will be picturing this moment for decades to come.”

            “You are more than welcome to have a look at what’s hiding underneath,” Y/N said. Or that is what she would have said, had she not simply whimpered in response. Not very sexy of her, but the feeling of his chest rumbling with a laugh, totally made up for it.

            She gathered enough of her bearings to step out of the fabric around her feet and move them along to her room. Never did his eyes leave her, never did his gaze waver or wander as they faced one another, her queen-sized bed behind her.

            “You are awfully overdressed,” Y/N mumbled, allowing herself the luxury of running her palms along the still-covered planed of his chest. His breathing was steady, but to feel the erratic thumping of his heart excited her beyond measure. It meant all that composure was just an act, and she was thrilled she’d be the one to crack it.

            She was just about to move her fingers to the buttons of his shirt when Michael slid down to his knees. If his hands hadn’t been resting against her thighs, she was sure she would’ve buckled and crashed. And Michael, damn the man to hell and back, knew it, if only by the smirk that stretched his face as he unlaced the strappy heels she had on and helped her stand on her feet.

            Y/N covered her face and groaned, throwing her head back. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Torturing me?”

            “Torturing you?” A kiss against her navel. “The only person being tortured tonight has been me. At the bar. In the car. Even now, you’re driving me crazy. So, if this is torture, simply consider it payback.”

            With the gentlest of touches, only a doctor could manage, Michael skimmed over Y/N’s stretchmarks, scars and blemishes – pieces of herself she didn’t particularly like, but the way he touched her… it was like he was mapping out the carve-marks of a Michelangelo statue. She was Venus and those – the history of her life.

            By the time he got back up to her mouth, she was a trembling mess, her nails digging into the muscles of his back, as finally, to her relief, he allowed her to rid him of the shirt.

            Much like he’d done to her, Y/N allowed herself the pleasure of exploring his body, mapping out the ridges and slopes of his chest and abdomen, before moving around to his back, and once they made their way to the small of it, she dug her nails against the skin there. The groan she was rewarded with, was sweeter than the cocktail he’d bought her.

            “Is it okay, if I touch you here?” Michael’s fingers slipped along the tops of her breasts before they moved to her back where they toyed with the clasp of the garment.

            “More than,” Y/N’s words were a breathless whisper by that point, and her inhale stuttered in her chest as she deftly snapped it open.

            It was clear he had experience, and not just because he was two decades her senior, but probably also because he’d done so in the trauma center, he worked at. For a brief, stupid second, she wondered how he could still find such acts pleasurable when he’d no doubt had to have done it during horrendous emergencies, yet all that was wiped away when Michael lowered his head and his teeth grazed a nipple.

            Her sharp gasp echoed around them, and Y/N weaved her fingers through his hair, pushing his face closer, as he lavished at her chest. The next day, she was sure, there would be bruises and love bites blooming like flowers across her chest and sternum, not to mention the delicious beard burn.

            Y/N moaned as he pulled the peak into his mouth, but when an uninhibited thought entered, it made her throw it back in a deep groan.

            “That feel good?”

            “So fucking good, but also, so yeah, I,” she stammered trying to get her brain to cooperate and create a coherent sentence. “Okay, so I just imagined you in glasses, and this got like ten times hotter.”

            “Glasses?” Michael chuckled, pulling slightly back and looking up at her. “That’s what does it for you?”

            “Correction – you in glasses. Though you right now are so doing it for me too. But that image just… yeah… kinda glad you don’t have any on. I’d probably be a pile of ash by this point.”

            “Now that would be a shame, wouldn’t it?” He said, slowly moving to her other breast, but not neglecting the one he’d already loved on, by cupping it in his large palm. “I mean, I’m just getting started.”

            Yeah, Y/N was dead and done for.

            As he continued licking at her chest, the hand that’d been fondling one of them, slid down her front and tentatively brushed against her clothed core. It was a single knuckle right against where her clit was, but it was enough for her to jolt in his grasp. Michael just steadied her and held tighter around her waist.  

            Once he deemed Y/N’s breasts worshipped enough, he trailed back up between them and covered her mouth with his, yet the knuckle, that damned fucking knuckle, still slid against her pussy. He could no doubt feel how wet she was, the material, though there wasn’t much of it anyway, soaked through so bad, her thighs were already sticky.

            “Michael please,” Y/N was now openly begging. She was way beyond feeling embarrassed for such a move when in the span of half an hour, he’d reduced her to liquid fire. No one had ever made her feel this wanted. This needed. And she desperately wanted and needed him too.

            “Tell me what you want,” he murmured, as he pushed his thumbs beyond the waistband of her panties and started to lower them down. The cool air hit her exposed core, and Y/N released a breathless moan. “You gotta tell me what you want and don’t want. I’m not gonna go any further until you do.”

            “I want you to touch me.”

            “I am touching you.”

            She could feel him smirk as his hands took hold of the globes of her ass and squeezed.

            “No, I want you to touch me there,” Y/N whined and tried to chase his mouth with hers, but Michael pulled back, shaking his head.

            “Gotta be more specific than that, sweetheart.”

            She debated on pulling away completely, on not giving him what he wanted either, but she was pathetic for this man. So, instead, she took one of his hands and guided it from where it rested against her ass, towards the front, sighing in relief as he let her do so. With her fingers guiding his, they slid to rest between her legs as Michael slowly, ever so exploratory, found her clit. She pressed her hand harder against his, so he could match the pressure on her core, and when he did so, overwhelming pleasure flooded her veins.

            “There,” Y/N breathed. “I want you to touch me there. And then,” she moved his hand deeper, by the wrist, until she could feel the pads of his fingers nudging against her entrance. “I want you to put three of your fingers inside me, while you suck on my clit, until I’m a crying mess.”

            As Y/N lifted her head back to look at him, there was absolutely no sign of the warm brown irises that’d looked at her so gently at the bar. Sure, it was dark in the apartment, yet even in bright daylight, she’d bet all her student loans, only two black abysses would be staring back at her, especially with how fast his chest was rising and falling.

            “And then?”

            God, had his voice dropped even lower? How did he manage to make it so gravelly, yet smooth as the darkest, most succulent chocolate?

            “And then…” Her fingers trembled as she moved her hands to the front of his pants, undoing the buckle and flipping open the button, lowering the zipper as she went. All the while, Michael applied steady pressure on her clit, circling the bundle of nerves just enough to drive her towards the edge, but not enough for release to come. “And uhm, then…” She pushed his pants down as far as they would go, letting them bunch around his knees.

            It took barely a moment for him to step out of them completely, kicking them to some forgotten corner of her room, leaving him in only his boxers. Somewhere along the way he’d lost the shoes and socks, but Y/N wasn’t about to go and hunt for them. Not with how he still circled her clit with those experienced appendages.

            “Yes?” He raised a brow and pressed harder against her clit, making her pull in a sharp breath.

            “And then,” Y/N trailed a teasing finger along the band of his boxers, for once delighting in how his abdomen muscles went taut, and his obviously hard dick twitched inside the confines. “And then I want you to fuck me. However, you want to. As long as by the end of it, neither of us know up from down and left from right.”

            When she cupped him over the clothes he still had left on, it seemed like it snapped something in Michael, some taut, already fragile wire, that’d begun fraying ever since she’d invited him back to her place. Because this time when he kissed Y/N, it was a hungry kiss. A man starved being served the most lavish meal of all.

            She was on the mattress in a matter of seconds, body covered by his towering frame. They molded perfectly together, Y/N thought. When she rolled her hips up to get at least some form of friction, he responded in kind, clearly searching to satiate his own desire.

            Michael’s hands slid from her shoulders down the length of her arms before intertwining their fingers and bringing them up and over Y/N’s head, not once disconnecting from the kiss.

            “You keep them there,” he instructed, breathing the words into her mouth. “And when I’m done with my appetizer, we’ll move on to the first of the main courses.”

            “Appetizer?” Y/N squeaked out. A good hook-up in her books was at least two orgasms, usually only having one. But calling eating her out an appetizer, and then having a numbered list of courses, was something else completely.

            Michael’s only response was that same damned smirk she’d learned could only mean torture, as he made his way between her legs, and without wasting another second, diving in between them.

            The first lick of his tongue was a broad, all-encompassing one. And Y/N could only hope her neighbors had some good noise-cancelling headphones at the ready.

            His forearms had settled against her hips and palms splayed themselves over her stomach to push her down against the bed, as she tried to chase his mouth.

            And what a mouth it was.

            Who knew the soft-spoken trauma doctor she’d met on a random Friday night at a bar while waiting for a date that never came, would be the creation of the Devil himself?

            But when he pushed two thick fingers inside, shortly followed by a third, just like Y/N had asked, all thoughts flew out of the window. The way he curled them in an attempt at finding that spot that made her gasp and choke on air, the way he scissored them, stretching her, preparing her for the first course he had in mind, was diabolical.

            Her first orgasm came unexpectedly. She could feel it like a wave – pushing and pulling – but she hadn’t expected the moment it crested and shattered against the rocks, swift and sharp, coming without a warning, all due to the teasing that’d happened before, no doubt.

            Michael rode it out with Y/N, until her hips stopped grinding against his mouth, and he could gently remove his fingers from her pussy.

            He placed a soft kiss against the inside of her thigh, the skin raw and tender from his beard, that now glistened with her juices.

            “ ‘M sorry,” Y/N mumbled, an arm thrown over her eyes as she came down from her high and tears streamed down to her temples, just like she’d requested.

            “Whatever for?”

            “Didn’t warn you I was coming.”

            As the aftershocks receded, and she removed her arm, she found Michael looking up at her completely puzzled. “And why would I need a warning? I could tell, you know.” He rose to hover over her. “The way you were clenching. Fucking proud of it too.”

            “No, I mean,” she huffed, trailing a hand down his chest. “Sometimes guys don’t want to… you know… have that in their mouth. They’d rather finish a girl off with their fingers and not have to… taste it.”

            Now that was one way to kill a mood, but Y/N had already opened her big mouth and the words were out.

            “And why wouldn’t I want to taste it, hmm?” Michael tilted his head at her, as his hands drifted up and down her sides, over her breasts and clavicles, to skim along her neck and finally settle on the pillow beside her head. “Why wouldn’t I want that, when it’s the end goal? You got your tears,” he kissed the corners of her eyes where the salt still lingered. “And I got my wine.”

            Her gaze drifted to the beard, the one she would be feeling for days to come, as she went about her life. The one that was glistening with the remnants of her orgasm even in the dark, and Y/N wondered, what it would be like to sit atop it. To have him pull her down by the waist as she claimed his mouth for her throne. They were such salacious thoughts, for a moment, embarrassment flushed through her, but come on! After such an eating out, Y/N was allowed to fantasize.

            “And by the end of this, if you let me,” Michael mumbled, a golden chain dangling in between them. Quickly she snatched it between her teeth and pulled, making him come closer. “I’d like to do so at least once more.”

            “You are absolutely welcome to it. Morning, noon and night.”

            But at that moment, Y/N had no intentions of allowing him to go for another round, as when he leaned down for a kiss, she lifted a leg over his hip and twisted, throwing Michael off his balance and onto his back, with her now on top.

            “But right now… you had your starter.” She gave him a wicked grin. “And I’ve yet to still have mine.”

            “Fuck me,” was all he managed to groan out as he threaded a hand through his hair, head pressed tight against her silk-covered pillows while Y/N rid him of his boxers.

            His length sprang free, thick and aching. It slapped against his abdomen and her hand curled around it immediately to give him some sort of relief, precum dripping from the tip. Or maybe, she intended to do quite the opposite.

            He’d taken his sweet fucking time riling her up. She could take hers. But it was the way he let out the smallest of “please”, the way his eyes locked onto hers, practically begging to put him out of his misery, that did her in. She’d tease him come morning. For now, she was way too aroused herself to deprive her body of his any longer.

            Y/N gathered a bit of saliva in her mouth and let it drip down onto his length, before dragging her tongue along the vein at the base of it, her lips wrapping around the tip as she made her way up and giving it a gentle, yet firm, suck.

            Michael’s hips jolted, and a hand grasped onto her head. He didn’t push it down or pull her hair in any way, more so it seemed he needed something solid to hold onto as she pulled his length into her mouth, until it hit the back of her throat, making both of them choke.

            “You don’t need to do that,” Michael started, ready to pull Y/N away if it became too much for her, but she stayed there, relaxing her muscles bit by bit, until he was so deep down her throat, her nose brushed against the hairs of his pelvis.

            “Fucking. Hell.” Those were the only two words he managed to express before Y/N trailed her mouth up and started to really suck him off. After that, it was just grunts and groans, his hand tightening and then unclenching in her hair, but never pressing, never pushing her to take more than she wanted to. Michael was completely immersed with her pace, and ready to take whatever she gave him.

            That sort of power could make anyone lightheaded, and when Y/N started to feel him twitch in her mouth, she pulled completely off.

            Instantly, his eyes snapped open, head rising to look at how she climbed his body and settled her knees around his hips, pressing her core down against his length. She was just about ready to let it slide inside when Michael’s hands closed around her waist and stopped her.

            “Condom,” he breathed out, chest rising and falling rapidly, probably the only word he could manage, which was great, because at least one of them still had some thinking skills left.

            “Shit. Fuck. Right, yeah.”

            Leaning over to her nightstand, Y/N half-fell over the bed to open the lowest drawer. In between her panties and vibrator, was a little foil packet which she fished out. She was glad of Michael’s unwavering hold, because the way she was precariously dangling over the edge, could end badly and with a stupidly gotten concussion.

            When she was back to straddling him, opening the packet and rolling the condom on his length, their eyes met.

            Michael rubbed his thumb in a circle on her hip. “We can always stop if you don’t want to go any further.”

            “I’m not a quitter,” Y/N scoffed, yet it didn’t elicit the smile she was aiming for, as he rose into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around her, hers resting onto his shoulders.

            “And this isn’t some race or competition. You can revoke consent anytime you want. And so can I.”

            “I know that,” Y/N nodded, her gaze softening at his words. He could easily create a power imbalance between them. With double the decades of age and experience on her, Michael could be pushing at her limits, trying to twist things into teaching her how to properly please a guy and so on, yet throughout all of it, his focus had been zeroed in on her wants and needs. She shifted a bit in her lap at the thought that she hadn’t checked in with him. “Do you want to stop?”

            “No.” His voice was soft but sure, and then, after a moment of him searching her eyes, the smile she’d hoped for, formed on his face. “But uh, and that is obviously if you are alright with it, I wouldn’t be opposed to adding your… friend… to our activities sometime later.”

            “My friend?” Y/N tilted her head in confusion. “Oh…” A furious heat exploded through her body, and not because of the fact Michael’s cock was slowly rubbing against her clit, the head nudging just right for pleasure to zing through her.

            He’d obviously noticed her vibrator, though the bright purple shade would be hard to miss. “You’re not turned off by it?”

            “Why would I be? You’re a woman who has needs. And if that’s how you take care of them, it’s completely fine. I mean, as long as you’re being hygienic and safe about it. Besides,” Michael breathed against her neck, as his hand slid between their bodies and he grasped himself, lining the tip up with Y/N’s entrance. “Real men see them as tools to use to their advantage, not competition. And well, not to stroke my own ego,” he smirked, “but I don’t think I have any competition here.”

            Y/N wanted to call him out for that statement, but he wasn’t lying. Not with the way his length stretched her out as he pushed inside. The fingering beforehand was incomparable to the feel of Michael sliding inside at a slow and agonizing pace, but one she desperately needed and welcomed.

            He was thick and veiny, all ridges and girth, and so, so perfect for her.

            It took a minute for him to be fully sheathed, and a minute more for Y/N to adjust, her forehead pressed against his, while he rubbed his hands up and down her back while she settled.

            This wasn’t fucking. This was sex. This was intimate, and it was something she hadn’t known she’d wanted from a partner. Usually, it was fast and hard, leaving both her and the guy she was with, panting against the sheets. Satisfied in the sense that both (hopefully) had had orgasms, but something was always missing. Now, Y/N knew it was this – time.

            Time spent exploring one another, time spent learning and teaching, and time spent simply enjoying each other’s bodies.

            “You good?” Michael muttered, shifting ever so slightly and making the tip catch a spot inside of her, Y/N had only reached with her purple “friend”.

            “Yeah,” she nodded. “You?”

            “Yeah.” Michael kissed her. Whether as an affirmation of his words or simply because he could, she didn’t know. But neither did she care. He was the best kisser she’d had the opportunity to enjoy, so she’d take it.

            While they kissed, Michael started moving. At first, it was slow rolls of hips, figuring out what movements made both of their breaths hitch and hearts pound, but it wasn’t long before Michael was on his back, knees bent as Y/N bounced up and down, his thumb pressed against her clit the whole time.

            Her second orgasm of the night was a more controlled approach. She could feel the coil tightening in her abdomen, and when Michael started lifting his hips up to meet hers, Y/N listed forward, balancing herself against his chest.

            “You gonna come?” he breathed against her ear as she pressed her chest against his, Michael’s hands wrapping along the small of her back and holding onto it, so he could fuck up into her pussy. “I can feel you clenching around me. Fuck, you feel good.”

            “Michael,” Y/N moaned his name. Not Dr. Robby or Robby how he’d explained the people in his life called him, but the name he’d asked her to call him. His real name.

            One snap, two, three. That was all it took for heat to explode. The only grounding thing in the world was his scent – some form of cheap cologne, antiseptic and sweat, but she knew she still had a long way before she came down, with how he was drilling up inside of her, chasing his own release.

            It elicited another, albeit smaller orgasm, but the most pleasure she got was when she realized he’d come with her as his palms grabbed onto her ass and pulled her sharply down, her name a sweet grunt on his lips against her ear.

            Yeah. Y/N needed to go out with more doctors. At least they knew where to find the clit and not neglect it once they had.

            He brought a hand up to her face and pulled her by the cheek to meet his mouth, a satisfied sigh leaving her as he did so.          

            “That was the best one yet,” Y/N mumbled against his lips.

            “And the night’s still young.”

            They went three more rounds after that (because she only had three more condoms, and she’d rather use them on one man who knew how to make her come three more times, than three men, who would have trouble getting one out of her).

            Michael was also a man of his word, as he had her vibrator join in on the fun. Y/N had her ass up in the air while he railed her from behind, an arm wrapped around her middle, pressing the toy to her clit, the vibrations sending pleasure unlike any other through her.

            His front was flush to her back, beard having left delicious burns down her spine, as he’d kissed her there, before eating her out once more in between the rounds and pushing his again-hard cock inside.

            That was the final orgasm she could manage, and it seemed Michael knew it. It was the kind that not only made her legs, but her whole body shake, leaving Y/N a trembling mess against the sheets, while he soothed her through the aftershocks.

            “You with me, sweetheart?” he mumbled against her temple as he gathered her in his arms and laid them side by side.

            “Jus’ give me a momen’,” Y/N slurred while Michael brushed a finger from her cheek to her jaw and back. “I think I’m a medical fucking miracle with how you just fucked my brains out, and yet, I can still function. Barely though.”

            Michael’s chuckle reverberated through her body, as after she’d recovered slightly, he gathered her up and moved them to where she instructed the bathroom was, to make sure she peed and didn’t get a UTI. If these had been normal circumstances, she would have never let a guy see her peeing, but quite honestly, Y/N wasn’t sure she’d be able to get back from the toilet seat on her own.

            “You’re more than welcome to have a shower if you want. Of course, only if you’re down with smelling like peaches or passion fruit.” Y/N nudged her chin towards the shower gels lining the floor, one hers, the other Sara’s.

            “I wouldn’t be opposed to, but only if you join me.”

            She hissed, biting her lip. “I don’t have any condoms left. Besides, from what I’ve heard and read, shower sex can be quite precarious. I’m surprised that you as a trauma doctor would risk such a thing.”

            “I’m not asking to have sex,” Michale laughed and helped her stand on her still wobbly legs after she flushed. “I’m asking for you to shower with me. Nothing more, nothing less.”

            And that’s what they actually did. They simply had a shower. Michael washed her back and she washed his, along with his hair. When she did so, the blissful look on his face, the way he allowed himself to melt against her touch, sent a new kind of thrill through her. But it also made her wonder – when was the last time he allowed someone to take care of him?

            By the time they got out from under the water, it was close to four in the morning, so they dried themselves down and went to bed. Y/N’s down duvet was a warm and fluffy cloud around them. Sure, she could have asked him to leave, but why would she, when he seemed so content to be there? Whether anything came from it once they awoke, didn’t matter. If he didn’t want to leave at that moment, Y/N would be the last person to push him to.

            She drifted off almost instantly, warm and safe in Michael’s hold, but when the real morning came and she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, body sore and satiated, she was met with a cold spot next to her.

            There was no fucking sign on Michael, and judging by how she’d been tucked in, he’d left a while back.

            Her dress and underwear had been neatly laid out on the chair in her room, heels tucked beneath it. As she ventured into the apartment, there were absolutely no signs of him, except for a cup of tea on the kitchenette. She knew it’d been made for her – it was filled to the brim, but much like the sheets, it was also already cold.

            Sourness settled in her mouth as she poured the liquid down the drain. Not even a single fucking note. It was like they’d never even met.

            Y/N hadn’t expected him to leave his phone number, God forbid, his address, what with how he’d laughed when she’d told him she was twenty-six, and he’d responded that he could be her father with that age gap. She knew she was some kind of spur-of-the-moment mistake he’d made. A weakness in his judgement, but fucking hell, she at least deserved an “it was great meeting you, wish you all the best,” note. Especially because he knew the only reason she’d gone to the bar was because she’d been ghosted by a date.

            And now – now Michael was also a ghost, an unscratchable, unreachable itch under her skin she couldn’t get to.

            That was the real reason Y/N’d felt so bitter for the past two weeks. If he’d been a bad lay, or maybe she’d been the bad party, she would understand the one-and-done-dump, but something about falling asleep while being wrapped up in one another, and then just leaving without so much as a goodbye, was crueler than if he’d left while she was still coming down from her release.

            Now though, as she watched him while they waited at the nurse’s station, she noted how his fingers twitched by his side. She wondered whether he wanted to touch her as badly as she wanted to touch him, but then horrible reality kicked in – there wouldn’t be any sort of touching for a while.

            She was stuck with her leg in a cast, and a scheduled check-up with Dr. Langdon in a week to take it off and remove the stitches, before it would get swaddled again for a month or more.

            Y/N cursed the day she’d met Dr. Michael Robinavitch, for he’d released a monster of carnal urges, she didn’t even really know resided in her. And he was the only one who knew how to properly tame it because even in his scrubs and hoodie, surrounded by the smell of antiseptic and all sorts of bodily fluids she didn’t want to think about, all she wanted to do was grab him by the neck and get him to some supply closet to have her way with him like they were actually in Grey’s Anatomy.

            “Michael, I,” Y/N started but got cut off by Sara waltzing into the emergency department.

            “How’s my pirate doing?” She threw her arms around her shoulders and squeezed. “They assign you a parrot yet?”

             “I don’t have a fucking peg-leg.” Y/N rolled her eyes as she signed a final form. With that, Sara took the wheelchair handles, gave Dana a salute and wheeled her out of the hospital, making Y/N crane her neck back and shout a final thank you to the nurse.

            She was just about to ask Sara to slow down as she needed to talk to Michael, when she felt his presence moving with them, silent, steady and strong, his hands taking hold of the crutches as the automatic doors opened.

            He followed them out and once they got to Sara’s car, helped Y/N settle in the front seat.

            “You good?” He tucked a strand behind her ear.

            “Yeah.” She gave him a genuine smile, and her heart pounded in her chest as his eyes trailed to trace her lips. “I am. Thank you. For taking care of me in there.”

            “Honestly, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the only time I’d like to see you back here is for your check-ups.”

            Y/N nodded, suppressing a smile. “Duly noted. No shower karaoke for me.”

            “I’m serious. You have an appointment with Frank in a week, but other than that, please take care of yourself, alright?”

            “You don’t have to worry about that.” She nudged her head towards Sara who was wrangling the crutches inside the boot of the car. “Mother hen is on the job.”

            “Good.” Michael nodded and before Y/N could properly prepare herself, he’d leaned down, cupping her jaw in his hands and kissed her.

            Her brain short-circuited at that, but when his tongue probed against the seal of her lips, she had to start wondering if she’d actually died when she’d hit her head in the shower. It didn’t take more than that though for her to open up, for her arms to brush against his scrubs and weave into the salt-and-pepper hair.

            By the time Michael pulled back, both their lips were kiss-swollen.

            “Let me take you out on a date.”

            Y/N let out a breathless laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “What happened to the doctor-patient thing?”

            Michael only smirked. “You’ve been discharged. You’re no longer a patient of mine.”

            “Okay, but even so – what would we do? My leg’s in a cast, and I can barely hobble around with the crutches.”

            “I can carry you. I don’t mind.”

            “And throw out your back, old man?”

            “Hey, I’m not that old!” Michael protested, and when he noted the smile on her mouth, he pressed his against it once more.

            “How about this,” Y/N proposed, “when you’re done with your shift, you could come over to my place, and -,”

            “Our place,” Sara butted in, sliding into the driver’s seat. “So, whatever you have in mind – no hanky-panky with me next door.”

            If Y/N rolled her eyes any harder they would get stuck in the back of her head, but she returned her attention to the awaiting attendant. “And we order some take-out. We watch a movie and then just… go to sleep?”

            “It might be very late by the time I’m off.”

            When she raised her hand and cupped his rugged cheek, it took him no time at all to lean into her touch. “I can wait.” She pecked his lips. “I’m in no rush.” She could only hope he understood the double meaning behind what she meant with it.

            Later that night as Y/N sat by the TV, the glow of the screen illuminating her face, she fell asleep with her head against Michael’s chest.

            And when she awoke, her sheets were warm with the remnants of his body, even if he wasn't there anymore.

            She was alone, yes, but atop the pillow rested a note:

            Shift started at 8. Sorry, I can’t be there to wake up with you.             I’ll be home by 9.

            It was almost impossible to wipe the smile off her face for the rest of the day.

Even as the itching under the cast started.

-----

Tags: are open :) if you wish to be tagged in further fics, please drop a comment under the fic or message me or leave me an ask :)

A/N: I have arisen

if you wish to know how this man makes me feel, please listen to Slutty by The Scarlet Opera.

I am FERAL.

P.S. I hope you enjoyed it :) feedback/constructive criticism is always appreciated :)

[krystella-shifts]

EVERYTHING IS CLICKING FOR ME Y'ALL!!! *ੈ✩‧₊˚

The only post you'll ever need for LOA. Literally.

It's so easy to manifest literally so easy once you do this. JUST SIT BACK AND RELAX, BE IN RECIVING MODE INSTEAD OF CONSTANTLY FEELING LIKE YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING. Yes sometimes it can be hard when you feel panic that you have to manifest as fast as possible but trust me once you TRUST, it'll all fall into your lap at the snap of a finger! Literally. You'll even feel better and happy instead of worrying and feel like waiting forever. The universe/god/your higher self, whatever you believe in is telling you or teaching you that the way isn't through worry, stress, pain, suffering. The way is through ease, love, trust. Once you understand this you'll ALWAYS and I mean ALWAYS be able to manifest without any effort. Yes, no need for that 21 days challenge, no need to set a reminder for every hour to affirm, no need to try hard to visualise every teeny tiny detail. Just have this inner knowing and relax. That's the cheat code. How easy is that? You literally have the cheat code and it doesn't require ANY effort outside and the most minimal effort inside.

Now let me explain all the manifestation techniques in more detail.

Every manifestation technique has one goal:

Think about any technique. Affirming, visualising, scripting,etc. All of these are for what? To remind you, you have your desire. YES not to get something. That's why Neville said feel it real is very powerful technique. Cuz that's what happens when we receive something right. But what we do in loa is we feel it rn and get it rn, and because the 3d is in the past, yes it's our past assumptions, that's why we say it's not real. So when we feel it real we already have our desire in the present, but the 3d is not in the present. So don't react to it. Just remember that. And after a few days of having our desire we don't get THAT excited, do we? So when you think about it again you don't have to feel anything or do anything cuz you already have it. AND THEN WE JUST SIT BACK AND RELAX. Again the same conclusion. Cuz that's it!

ALL YOU NEED TO EVER DO:

Decide what you want. And feel having it.

Remind yourself that you have ___ either saying it in your head, writing it down, etc

RELAX. SIT TF BACK. YES YOU DON'T NEED TO DO ANYTHING.

Whenever you think about ___ always remember you have it. And think naturally. How would you think having ___ cuz you do now.

Remember the 3d is a product of your past assumptions. Just like how we see the stars 8 years later of their actual form. Just like it takes 8 minutes for sunlight to reach the earth. If you remember this you won't ask "where it is" you know it is here. And yes u can manifest Shifting too.

Allow it to come to you. I don't chase i attract.

Yes that's what it means. And I am the living proof for that 😌💅🏻✨ I am literally living my dream life and bestie you are too. That's all you need to manifest (aka yourself). It's very simple but if you have any questions feel free to comment and keep me updated on your manifestation journey and success stories cuz I'd love to read them and know if my post helped you 🤭🥂 (atleast you can do that for me, right? ;p)

Love, ... redkittyjellyfish? Wait i need to change my user name 💀 (ps. I changed my user from redkittyjellyfish - Krystella-Shifts (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) )

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[pacifistsworstnightmare]

Thinking Thoughts once more about bakugou katsuki who passes out almost immediately after sex 🙂‍↕️ on certain occasions anyway

LIKEEEE. he is almost Always running on fumes cause he does so much. he's either patrolling or doing a Proper Mission or dealing with paperwork or some other dumb shit at the agency, and between That he's working out and doing The Most around the house like fixing random shit cause it "needed it". like. it becomes an Issue to the point where you're like 🤨 "we cannot fuck past 10pm you'll fall asleep on me and i'll die." and he thinks you're exaggerating

like. walk with me here. but also MINORS DNI or i'll chase you down :)

it’s late. stupid late. like 2:14 a.m. late. and he’s just gotten home— hair damp from a quick shower at the agency, hoodie hanging off one shoulder, work bag still half-zipped and dumped on the floor. and you can tell he’s exhausted. he’s got that tightness in his jaw, the same pull in his shoulders and upper back. doesn't even have the energy to scold you for staying up and waiting for him. he just pulls you close, mumbles a “lemme just fuckin’ hold you a sec—” and melts into the couch like a man dying.

except. except. you’re curled up in his lap. and he’s warm. and soft. and that hoodie is riding up a little. and he’s got his hand on your thigh like he needs you there.

and next thing either of you know—you’re riding him.

slow, deep, melty kind of riding. your hands on his chest, his breath coming out in choked little pants, head tipped back on the cushion, eyes blown out and blinking slow. you keep asking if he's okay, and he keeps nodding. keeps muttering “yeah, baby, yeah, don’t stop, feels so fuckin’ good—”

and then he comes.

and that’s when he shuts down.

literally goes boneless. head lolls to the side. eyes flutter closed. arms drop like weights around your hips. the last thing out of his mouth is a barely-whispered “fuck, love you” before he just stops functioning.

and you’re still there, straddling his lap, dripping, like 😟 hello?

gently patting his cheeks like “baby?? y'kay?”

and he doesn’t even stir.

you check his pulse (normal).

he’s breathing (steady).

he’s just… sleeping. (peacefully).

dead to the world. fully clothed except for his dick, which is still inside you, softening.

and you just sit there like “okay…”

eventually you ease off, wipe him down, tuck him in, and let him sleep all slumped and slack on the couch like a man post-exorcism.

and when he does wake up, hours later? when you're both a little stiff from sleeping on the couch in awkward positions?

he blinks. grunts. rubs his face. and then freezes.

"wait. the fuck happened. did i—"

"yes, you fell asleep with your dick still in me."

he groans. “god, i’m the worst—”

and you’re like “nooo you were very sexy :) just also immediately unconscious.”

he’s so embarrassed. but also— he secretly loves that you let him. that you take care of him even when he won’t stop pushing himself. that you know how to fuck him to sleep when he needs it most.

— 2025 © pwn. all rights reserved. do not repost, narrate, or translate my works. thanku!