#i did all my work and i run out of drawing ideas after a while.... so like.. please...

[ghostorbz]

Drew this last night

Here's the original if you want it

[jamminvroomvroom]

second time around.

ln x fem!reader

in which he’s quite desperate to have a second kid.

staying in my active era! there is honestly no excuse for this one, i just simply couldn’t help myself. it’s porn, yes, there is plot, but it’s just. porn.

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! where do i even begin? smut, more smut, breeding kink (kinda the whole point), choking, overstimulation, general sex acts, public sex, car sex, shower sex, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of the kid they already have, lando being a little shit, sex somewhere unhinged in the mtc, a brief moment of angst, dom!lando, rough sex? yeah.

3.9k words

take: 1

the season is coming to an end.

somewhere between italy and singapore lando decides he wants another kid.

it’s a warm day in the middle of september when he proposes the idea to you. you’re watching your daughter toddle around the garden, soaking up the last remnants of sunlight before the darkness of autumn encapsulates the warm beams until march.

she giggles, pushing her toys around in the grass. you let her play, lost in her own little world of wonder. lando turns to you, scanning your side profile, watching you watch the little girl. he’s awestruck, enamoured totally by the family he’s created, by the woman he loves. he doesn’t think, he just opens his mouth and let’s loose his big idea.

“want another one?” he cooes, sliding closer across the bench, until he’s nosing at your cheek. kisses are pressed to your puffy face. it’s still early.

at first you think he’s offering you another coffee, so you hold out your almost empty mug to him. you’d been nursing the drink, letting it go cold in the naturally cooler air. he laughs at you, and that’s when you clock what he’s actually asking.

you turn to him, facing each other now. lando looks excited. you wonder if you can find a way to mirror his expression.

“lando…” you start. his face drops at your tone, letting him down easy. “it’s not that i don’t want to, it’s just-“

“i’ll be home more. i’ve worked it all out. if we get to work now, baby will be here around the summer break.”

you mull over his words.

your first baby was a shock to you both, and you didn’t fancy doing that again. you loved lando with every fibre of your being, just as you did your daughter, but being away from him so much in the lead up to her arrival shot every one of your nerves to pieces.

but another baby would be on the agenda eventually - you both desperately wanted to add to your beautiful family - and you supposed that if he’d done the math…

“by get to work now, you mean…?” you cock an eyebrow at him. he lights up like the christmas tree you’d be putting up in a few months.

“she’s going down for her nap soon.” lando smirks, voice edged with that excitement once again.

-

his head is between your legs mere moments after he shuts your bedroom door.

you’d been waiting for him, stripped bare in anticipation. your baby girl would be down for a good few hours, more than enough time for him to draw out everything you had to offer and fill you back up.

his tongue runs over your flesh; he’s messy with it. you’re choking out whimpers as he licks and laps and tugs with his teeth. your pussy clenches around nothing and he notices, sliding his fingers all over where you ache. they’re quickly wet enough to slide inside of you, and he grinds them deep, luring traces of an orgasm into the pit of your belly. it’s familiar, the way he winds you up, and you want him like this every minute of the day.

“getting you ready, honey. gonna get you so fucking ready.” lando is slurring words into your cunt, letting them get lost to your sodden folds. you hear every word perfectly. they make you shake and shake until you’re undone.

when he looks up at you, his mouth is glistening. his fingers are, too. he hates wasting a drop of you, so he laps up the mess you’ve made while he shuffles up the bed. when he’s finally hovering over you, he’s desperate, but you’re worse. you could cry from the urge.

something carnal is taking place; he’s staring into your soul, finishing up the remnants of your taste, and you’re begging with your eyes, hands slinking all over your own body. you must be dripping by now. your body is restless and you raise your hips, inviting him close, deep.

when he thrusts into you, he’s pinning you down into your shared mattress. you’re completely at his mercy and he fucking loves it. you love it more. you go slack underneath him, and he starts a slow grind. he’s not thrusting, not yet, he’s just rolling into you, deeper, deeper, deeper. you feel the first tears threatening to fall. he feels so good, it’s unbearable.

he nudges at your most sensitive spot, over and over and over. you whine carnally and he swallows it, licking into your mouth. his curls tickle your forehead, you’re pressed so close together. he sees the pools in your eyes and then he looses it completely.

hand on your neck for leverage, he starts thrusting, harder and harder, faster than you can ever recall. he knows you can take it, knows how bad you want it, and that thought alone spurs him on. you have the same goals, the same shared instincts. you feel nothing but pure fucking bliss everywhere.

“you want me to fill you up? you want my baby, honey? want me buried nice and deep?” you hear him grunt, but he sounds so far away.

you are lost to the void when you come. you can’t even try and resist, not when you can hear how wet you are, not when you can hear the quiet whimpers he tries to fight at the way your pussy convulses around him. you cannot see anything but the stars in his eyes.

you go limp and he spills, fucking it even further into you. his eyes are trained on where you’re still joined, and where he’s still fucking you. you’d be screaming if not for the hand wrapped around your throat. the most delicious piece of jewellery you own.

lando needs to know he’s gone as deep as he can, that you’ve come as hard as he can make you. he feels unhinged when his fingers find your clit, switching between short spasms of his finger on the nub, and grinding down on it with his palm. you’re both overstimulated, soaked with sweat and other things. you’re gripping his cock so fucking tight that he can’t stop the rush of moans, your name mumbled like a prayer between expletives.

but still, he needs to know it’s deep enough.

an hour later, you can finally move, and you sink deep into the bath.

your head is on his chest, he washes you gently. you wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl.

-

date night

almost a month passes. no sign of baby number two.

it’s fine, you tell yourself. you tell lando, too. all the more reason to keep practicing.

every opportunity he gets to bury himself to the hilt inside of you is a win in both of your books. he grabs every single one of those opportunities with both hands.

you’re dressed up nice for dinner, little black dress hugging you well. you watch the scenery flick past you. lando’s in the drivers seat, making small talk, his left hand heavy on your bare thigh. you’ve just dropped your daughter off with her grandparents, your mother hugging lando tight. he’d been gone a while.

fingers skim higher up your thigh. you want to let him carry on but this car is new, untainted by his adventurous personality and your willingness to comply. your legs snap shut and you watch him smirk out the corner of your eye.

“later.” you whisper.

his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

“i know. don’t you worry, honey.” he doesn’t sound convincing, no, he sounds like a man with a plan and you dread to think of what he has in store.

the restaurant is tiny. a hole in the wall. it’s intimate, exclusive, slightly extortionate, but lando likes to treat you. you order, and he behaves. you sip wine, and he behaves. you drag your heel up his leg, and still, he behaves. you know something is brewing behind those stormy eyes.

he launches his attack during dessert.

vanilla ice cream hits your tongue when he strikes, leaning back in his chair. his thick neck captures your attention, the dim light accentuating him just right.

“would your prefer we take this to the car or the bathroom? it’s pretty spacious back there, you know.”

lando speaks so casually, and slightly too loudly. your cheeks are aflame.

“lando!” you hiss in warning. you’re sputtering over his boldness, catching some ice cream with your tongue. he watches the way it moves over your lips intently.

“actually, as tempting as the bathroom is, we still need to break in the new car.” lando sounds like he’s talking about the weather, or a shopping list, not the location of your next sexcapade. you swear you see the old lady at the next table over wink at you. “your choice, honey.”

you’re staring daggers at him. he leans in closer, elbows resting on the table and a shit eating grin contorting his pretty face.

“i’ve been gone too long, i need to remember what that pussy feels like.” his voice has dropped an octave but it’s still too loud. you inadvertently grind against the chair. the candle on the table flickers from the force of the shaky breath your expel.

“if you shut up now, you can have me anywhere you want me.” you mumble, bringing your napkin to your lips. the ice cream is melting and you have more important things on your mind.

“i’ll have you anyway, honey. because no matter what happens, we’re gonna go back to the car and you’re gonna crawl into my lap, aren’t you? you’re not gonna be able to help it.” he keeps going and you want the ground to swallow you up. maybe you want to crawl over the table and jump on his lap right here. you fight every natural instinct.

“lando.” you try to scold him again but it comes out breathier, a feeble attempt at shutting him up. it’s hard to be convincing when you want nothing more than for him to bend you over in the middle of this restaurant.

“and after i’ve had you shaking on my lap, i’m gonna fill you up, yeah? you’ve been waiting for weeks, poor thing.”

you usher over the waiter, and ask for the bill.

-

he’s got you home in one piece and all the way up to the shower.

you’re still delirious from the car. he’s still dripping out of you.

he pushes you against the shower screen, your cheek resting on the fogged up plastic. the combination of yours and his first orgasm is enough to slick him up and he slides right back inside of you, as if he’d never left.

your head is spinning, car lights and nail prints in leather seats flashing through your mind.

he’d been right in the restaurant. you’d crawled straight into his lap and he’d been waiting, seat pushed back, cock slapping up against his tanned belly. he’d swiped his fingers through your folds, determining that you were wet enough already, and then you’d sunk straight down on him.

at first he’d just watched you lose control, bouncing and grinding and whining on his lap. you were growing tired when he stepped in, pushing you back against the steering wheel, the angle change making your eyes roll back. you came twice with his fingers on your clit and his other hand holding you down so he could grind up into you. he’d released deep into you, all you could do was shudder, collapsing into his chest.

now, he’s taking you again, the hot water cascading over you both. you’re almost limp, caught between the cold screen and his hot, restless body. this it was three weeks apart does to him, and the urge to claim every part of you is at the forefront of his mind.

you’re writhing. there’s no room to move; he’s pressed so tight against you, breathy moans sounding straight into your ear and you want him impossibly closer. you always missed him so much it hurt, but that pain had increased tenfold lately.

you try to roll your hips back into him, needing him deeper, somehow. you’re so wet and tight around him, and your attempt at moving on him has you clamping down on him.

lando whimpers when he lets go, marking you as his.

he washes your hair and you fall asleep together naked.

-

the fear

lando is due back from qatar.

any minute now, he’ll be walking through the door.

he’s taken a podium, so you are expecting somewhat high spirits, despite the slight issue that had been the sprint race.

a podium is a podium, you’d tried to tell him on the phone late on saturday night. you knew that a podium was never just a podium.

you’re cleaning the kitchen up, your sweet daughter tucked up tight in her bed upstairs. a random playlist is sounding from the speakers and you flit around in just his hoodie. it hits mid thigh and it’s keeping you shielded from the biting october air.

you hear keys in the lock somewhere in the distance. you grin stupidly. god, you always fucking miss him. you turn to face the doorway, eagerly anticipating his face, longing for one of his speciality hugs.

instead, a storm enters your kitchen in the form of your boyfriend.

you raise and eyebrow.

“lando?” you question.

your hips are in his hands before he can answer. he’s walking you backwards until the granite of the counter is digging into your lower back.

“turn around.” his voice is gravelly, commanding. you do as you’re told.

the hoodie is bunched around your waist, your panties are tugged to the side. you can hear the rustle of fabric, assuming he’s getting himself ready. two fingers gloss through your folds while he pushes you down, bending you over for him. he’s rubbing circles into your clit and you’re keening into his touch.

“you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” you manage to choke out. he grunts in response.

“just need to get inside you.” is all he replies. well, okay then.

lando rearranges you, hiking one of your knees up so that’s it’s resting on the countertop. your other foot barely touches the floor when he fucks into you, ruthless. you cry out, reaching blindly behind you for him. you graze his hip and he shivers, pushing into you even harder.

he’s frantic, messy with it, thumbing at your clit. there’s hardly any room to move his hand, so he’s grinding the pad of his thumb as best he can. the pressure builds in your belly embarrassingly fast. you love when he gets like this, but you will pry what’s wrong out of him later when he curls up into his chest.

“gonna give you another one. s’all i can think about. fucking you full.” he mutters. your back arches into him.

“please.” you whimper, slurred. it’s all you can think about too.

your plea ushers along his orgasm, and he drops his head against your back. you’re shaking when you finish; he stays buried deep for a moment, silence washing over you.

when he helps you stand up, he kisses you deep. he brushes the hair from your face, says hello properly.

“wanna go see her.” he mumbles.

-

when you finally manage to climb the stairs, you see straight into your daughters room.

lando is stood over her crib, watching her sleep in the lamp lit room. he’s cooing something to her that you can’t make out. your knees are weak at the sight. you want to fill this house with children that look like him and laugh the way he does.

he catches you watching, sending you a wink, a promise that he’ll meet you in bed. when he finally does, drawing back the sheets and dropping into bed beside you, he wraps himself around you instantly.

“talk to me.” you command, toying with his hair in a way that you know turns him into mush in your hands.

“can’t win a race, can’t give you another baby. just- fuck.” he sighs, voice so small. you tear up but you push that aside for now.

“stop, lando. don’t do this to yourself.” you try to sound firm, attentive.

“just- am i good to you? am i good to her?” he needs to hear you say it, that’s the only thing that will talk him down from this spiral. he’s exhausted, and this is often a consequence.

“sometimes i think you hung the stars in the sky.” you hum, kissing his forehead.

gentle snores lull you to sleep.

-

quickie

you go with him to austin.

it seemed logical, after the events of qatar. your daughter has been stolen away by lando’s dad, who is showing her the paddock and introducing her to mechanics. you watch on, momentarily, because then lando is stealing you away.

“haven’t you got fp3 in a minute?” you ask, coy smile on your face. he’s pulling your jeans down and kicking them away.

“this won’t take long.” he smirks.

you crave the upper hand for a change. his race suit is already undone, so you make your move. you tug down his fireproofs, taking his cock in your hands. he’s hard already, glistening for you. he groans, but doesn’t make you stop.

you’re watching him through your eyelashes, his head tipping back in pleasure. you work your hand around him, up and down, applying pressure at the base and around the tip. it’s flushed red, wet in your hand and he looks too pretty to stop. he can have you later, in your hotel room, you think. right now, you’re having him.

lando is panting, thrusting into your hand when he comes for you. you’re soaked through, and he can probably see the damp patch on the panties. his release hits your stomach, painting your flushed skin white. your eyes scan the room for something to clean yourself with, but he beats you to it.

thick fingers swipe through the mess he’s made. your panties are tugged to the side and then he’s fucking you with said fingers. you cannot produce a thought, mouth gaping open in the shape of an ‘o’. the sight before you has you gushing, and he uses that leverage to speed up.

“you think i’m gonna let it go go waste, honey? silly girl. pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters.

your hips are bucking into his hand when he pulls out of you, collecting more of him from your belly, and then he’s thrusting them in again. you tear up from the pleasure coursing through you, white hot. he’s crazy, you think, but he’s so fucking beautiful, teasing glint in his eye as he curls his fingers deeper.

“want it so bad, don’t you? gotta keep you full for me, don’t i?”

you’re sure you can be heard from the garage when your orgasm hits.

-

office party

a burnt orange dress clings to your hips and a curly haired man clings to your hand.

the mtc is lit up for another gala that you and lando have to attend. the season is over and they’ve had a great run, so a toast must be made to celebrate that.

you watch him get passed around the room between sponsors and other important people, proud of what he’s achieved. you hate sharing him, but it’s a necessary evil, so you drink champagne with oscar’s girlfriend, lily, and natalie pinkham.

when lando comes back to you, his PR smile is dropped and that genuine, boyish grin returns that you have so missed in his momentary absence. he introduces you to some people, proudly showing you off, sinking drinks as he does.

it’s nearing 10pm when his actions become questionable. his hand stays on your ass, his words whispered in your ear are filthy and his sly kisses on your neck stop being quite so sly.

you remove him from the main event, just for a moment, just to try and get him to compose himself before you jump him against one of the vintage racing cars. he sees this as an invitation, however, and then everything goes awry.

he’s dragging you into the lift, kissing you against the closed doors. when you stumble out a floor up, you can still hear the function in full swing. he’s pulling you down a hallway and into what you assume is an office. when he has you sat on a desk, you realise where you are.

“is this zak’s office?” your eyes pop out of your head, bewildered.

“maybe.” he shrugs. he’s smirking like a bastard.

“you’re insane.” you shake your head, standing from the desk, but his lips ghost your ear and you’re putty in his hands.

“you’re driving me insane. coming here in this tight fucking dress. can’t stop looking at you, thinking about this.” his hand rubs over your lower belly as he speaks, and then you’re back on the desk.

lando’s on his knees, peeling the silky material over your thighs until your barely there panties are in his face. he mouths over them briefly, and then they’re gone and his tongue is buried to the hilt in your cunt.

it doesn’t take him long to get you off, the alcohol and the thrill of being in the one place you should never have sex pushing you quickly towards your orgasm.

the glass wall of windows is too inviting for lando to pass up, so on shaky legs, you’re pressed up against them, looking out over the pond and the fairy lights when he pushes into you.

he’s kissing over your shoulder, your neck, holding your down on him while he thrusts up into you. you turn your head to kiss him, to let him swallow up your noises that could give you away.

“you’re so fucking good for me, honey. letting me have you here like this just so i can give you a baby.” he slurs against your lips, pussy drunk and ravenous.

he finds your clit, fast fingers making small swipes against it and you want to cry.

“gonna make this time count, yeah, honey? gonna keep it all inside of you until we get home?”

you try to nod, try to say something but you’re choking on air and dripping all over him. a couple more thrusts and you’re the perfect vessel for him to release into, throbbing and hot around his cock.

“beg for it, honey, come on. tell me how much you want it.” lando mumbles right in your ear.

“lando, please. please, please, please.” you whimper. “come for me, baby, need it inside of me.”

you leave the office a lot more composed than when you entered it. well, aside from the remnants of him that are running down your inner thighs.

-

a month later, lando’s laughing. he’s actually laughing, while you cringe, burying your blushing face in his chest.

you’re holding a pregnancy test in your hands, finally a positive one.

when you do the maths, you realise where baby norris was conceived, and you try and make him promise never to tell anyone that it was in his boss’s office.

“it’s a funny story.” he tells you. there are tears in his eyes.

“you’re so lucky i love you.” you roll your eyes. you are also dangerously close to crying.

but truthfully, you’re the lucky one. he carries you to bed that night, claiming that now you had a baby on board, you had to be careful!

you dream of him, that night. the man that hung the stars in the sky.

-

once again, idk what came over me i’m sorry lmfao

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239

removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

[pepperyduck]

you walk around the corner to see gojo’s girlfriend sitting on top of his desk and him talking to her sitting on his chair between her legs. so much for surprising him with your early coming home from your work trip. even tho he’s your husband you don’t dare take a step further keeping your shock to a silent gasp, worried you’ll get caught. your marriage had been arranged, and even though you loved him and he was a good caring husband, he was never in love with you. while you figured this was happening it still hurt seeing him so happy and full of life when he’s engaging in just simple conversation with her.

almost immediately after he notices you avoiding him and keeping to yourself even more than normal. when he brings it up, you tell him you know about his girlfriend after having listen to them talking for a long time before they started to “make out.” while Gojo isn’t mean or smug about it, he doesn’t deny it leaving you an absolute emotional wreck.

hi honey! thank u for this request, u get me so well :'). i hope i delivered what u were looking for! much love hun!

word count: 1.9k

warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, cheating, mentions of divorce, manipulation if u look hard enough, a couple mentions of sex but no active descriptions. (18+ mdni!)

notes: so i haven't written about gojo yet but i absolutely love this man. let me know what u think! also i did not proofread this, very sorry, i wrote half of it on my lunch break @ work.

you can find part two here

masterlist

“satoruuu!” you chirp your husband’s name as you enter the home, the ending syllables of his name echoing throughout the massive entryway, and you’re met with silence. you drop your bags in front of the door, you can’t help but be enthusiastic about seeing your husband – you’ve been on that stupid business trip that took way too long, and you feel lucky you were able to come back home a few days earlier.

a boisterous laugh comes from upstairs in the empty house, signaling your husband is somewhere around your office – maybe he’s on the phone with a friend and didn’t hear you from all the way downstairs. you smile to yourself and run up the stairs, staying quiet as possible so you can surprise satoru – tiptoeing closer and closer, you see your office door wide open. when you peek around the doorframe into the room, you see your husband, dressed in one of those expensive shirts you bought for your last anniversary –

and there’s a girl, a girl you’ve never seen, perched atop your desk, smiling widely and proud from a joke she cracked to make satoru laugh so loudly.

you draw your head back quickly, praying neither one of them saw you, because you had no idea how to approach the situation at hand. that girl was more than a friend, for sure, with the way satoru was feeling up and down her thighs from sitting in between them. for a second, you feel as if your whole marriage was a lie. 5 years, down the drain, and how many of those years were spent with other women, too?

satoru gojo was the son to your parent’s closest counterparts – you grew up around him, not too close, but enough to know enough about one another by the time you became adults. after college, neither one of you held a long-term partner, so your parents and his decided to arrange a marriage for the both of you. you willingly accepted – satoru was a sweet, caring boy for the most part – yet unbeknownst to you, a cheater who never really had any intentions of staying loyal to his wife. in his mind, the marriage was nothing more than a benefit for the both of you; he agreed to get his parents off his back and live a comfortable life because of the successful jobs you both obtained. you were content taking the man’s last name, having gradually fallen in love with him over time, even planning to have kids with him one day.

all your future dreams and past feelings come to a halt when you see the man with another woman.

you creep back down the stairs, quietly so no one catches on, and you grab your bags and leave again. you don’t go too far at all; you stay down the street in your car so you can see whenever your husband leaves. once he’s on his way to go drop his mistress off, you scurry back to the house and take all your things inside. satoru returns hours later, well past after dark, greeted with you in the kitchen finishing up dinner.

“oh- honey,” satoru perks up upon walking through the door, “i didn’t think you’d be back so early.” he walks up and wraps his arms around your waist from behind, giving you a tight squeeze and kissing your neck. your first instinct is to relax into his touch, as you had always done for years before, but the hurt inside of you causes you to stiffen up at the hug.

“hi, satoru,” you faintly reply, eyes diverting from everything else to the saucepan simmering in front of you on the stove. satoru always had a knack to be able to tell when something was off with you, even from the smallest bit of action. this was no different.

satoru unravels his arms from around you and leans onto the counter adjacent to the stove, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “everything okay, sweetie?” the pet name he most commonly used made your stomach hurt and your chest tighten.

“mmhm,” you bluff, “just a rough trip, i’m really exhausted,” you tell him, gaining a bit of strength to look him in the eyes with a tired expression and a weak smile.

“aww, you should’ve told me, honey. i would’ve got us something while i was out,” satoru says, his sickeningly sweet voice causing a bout of anger inside you.

“i was going to surprise you, but you weren’t here when i got home,” you lie to him, gazing back down to the saucepan and turning the eye off, “where were you so late?” you ask, although you already knew the answer. the question was just a meaningless test.

“ah, i was out with kento. he wanted to treat me to drinks since he got a new promotion,” satoru lies right back, but you see right through it.

“really? good for him,” you compliment his friend, able to work yourself up a little more to keep a straight face in front of your husband.

satoru couldn’t tell yet, but your heart cracked each time you looked at him. you wanted to slap the man to the ground and interrogate him as to why he’s sleeping around – but you only had evidence you saw with your own eyes. you figured he would most likely try to flip things around if you accused him of cheating and pin the blame on actions of your own that didn’t exist.

so, you make the noble decision to keep quiet about your knowledge for now.

days pass, the scene of your husband and the other woman slowly ate away at you, it chipped at the loving wife persona you displayed for satoru, more and more with each hour that came and went. your husband’s usual upbeat personality remained the same, and you tried your hardest to match it, continuing to kiss and be intimate with the man as much as he wanted.

but as time grew, your feelings slowly started to show. you couldn’t help it – who could help it? – being cheated on tears away someone’s entire confidence and demeanor. for years, satoru had feigned innocence and loyalty, he was a perfect husband to you, but maybe he was too perfect for someone like you.

he was his family’s most prized heir, and you were just some girl that got lucky enough to marry him, by some chance of fate. you hated the fact that you realized all you were to him was some … possession, someone there for convenience and convenience alone.

“what’s got you down in the dumps, hmm?” satoru teases as he pokes at your shoulder. you’re laid with your back facing him, trying to fall asleep after a long, emotionally painful night of sex.

you don’t reply at first, you just roll over a little more so he can’t see your sad face, curling into yourself at his touch. there was never going to be a perfect time for you to confront the man. but all the painful feelings you’d been holding on to for weeks at this point get the best of you, and a tear makes its way out of your eye and onto the silk sheets below.

“satoru,” you peep, barely audible as you continue to face away from your husband.

“hmm, honey?” he hums, so effortlessly faking a kind tone.

“who’s that girl?” you question, “i saw her here when i came home.”

“oh,” satoru replies, and you can feel his weight shift next to you so he’s laying on his back.

silence falls over the room, you wait on a reply that satoru refuses to give you for multiple minutes. he lays there, contemplating a lie, or whether or not he should come clean.

it’s not like you’d leave him, anyway.

“i’ve been dating her for a few months now,” satoru tells you, his voice no longer sweet or caring, just plainly spitting out the words you didn’t want to hear from him, ever. the tone in his voice upsets you even greater, he doesn’t even try to deny it, which causes an even greater pain to expand inside of you.

satoru’s new indifference to your feelings hurts a lot more than you’d ever imagined. you tried to psych yourself up, telling yourself that it was okay, you’d be happy if he just lied to you about the whole situation and you’d never bring it up again. his honesty is excruciating, it causes your heart to finally shatter into a million pieces when he confesses everything so guilt-free.

“why…?” you whimper, still unable to gain any of the forged confidence you had for weeks before to look him in the eyes again. you couldn’t stand to look at those beautiful blue eyes you’d fallen so deeply in love with over time, because you knew all they’d do is glare back at you unimpressed.

“well,” satoru starts, “what did you expect? this whole marriage was a fluke, anyway,” he mutters, still too honest for you to be able to feel any comfort in his words.

satoru doesn’t care, though, he never really cared, it’s all so agonizingly obvious to you now.

what did you expect?

you knew what you expected from this marriage, you treated satoru with the utmost care, even if it was a situation you were both forced into. you expected him to stay true to his vows, to be there in all the rough patches, and he was, only until it comes to your attention he wasn’t.

the sweet, considerate, thoughtful husband you once knew disappeared in the matter of a few minutes. all that remained of him now was a hard shell of what he was.

you decide to not reply to satoru anymore, to save yourself from anymore heartbreak – as if you had any left for him to smash into a billion pieces. the only actions you take are to curl up into an even smaller ball and allow the flood gates to open – you begin to coat the soft sheets in your salty tears. satoru only groans at your crying, like it was such a burden he broke your heart, as if he’s not the one to blame for everything going downhill.

the bed sinks in as satoru stands up, sighing. his footsteps shuffle behind you, you hear his keys jingle and his shoes scuff against the floor as he puts them on. you see him walk over to your dresser – the one he made for you with a huge mirror years ago – and check his reflection to fix his hair. soon after, he walks over to you and plants a meaningless kiss to your temple.

“i’m going to go see my girlfriend now,” the utterance of the word “girlfriend” makes you squeeze your eyes shut, “if you want a divorce, let me know so i can get a lawyer.”

satoru walks away and grabs his coat on the dresser, giving himself another good look in the mirror before walking over to the bedroom door.

“bye, honey.”

he leaves behind a broken wife, who’s too beautiful inside and out for her own good. he knows you won’t really leave him; the suggestion of a divorce was to only get a reaction out of you, he was bored the instant you had no rebuttal.

you only continue to cry into the night, falling asleep alone, the only thing to accompany you is the fact your marriage was a lie. satoru will come back, but things will never be the same.

[bokutosbabe]

Having His Baby

a/n — osamu brainrot is actually insane. not proofread so for sure horrible i wrote this on a whim 🫶🏼

content — nsfw, 18+, osamu x fem! reader, breeding kink, goes back and forth between high school and time skip, reader and osamu are high school sweethearts, reader and osamu are married, mating press, cursing, talk of a pregnancy scare, nicknames(pretty girl, nasty girl, baby, maybe more i forgot), daddy kink if you squint, i think that’s it! lmk if i missed anything!

synopsis — in high school osamu miya knew you were meant to be a mom, but seven years later he’d finally decided he would make you one himself.

✿.｡.“ screaming but daddy i love him! ”.｡.✿

Osamu always knew you’d be a good mom. From the moment he'd met you in the nurse's office during his first year, you simply radiated that aura. Always so willing to help him every time he and atsumu got in a fight or he got hurt in volleyball — you would drop everything to come help him in the nurse's office.

Sure, it wasn't exactly smart to skip the classes that Osamu needed you in, but that was your job. You were the nurse's student assistant after all.

You hadn't gotten the courage to actually speak to him until his fourth appearance in there, yes you'd given him your number just so he could text if he needed help, but the two of you only texted when he was hurt. (you had no idea how many “you up?” texts he had wanted to send to you to see if you'd respond)

It was an accident really, saying your first real words to him. They were simply out of shock as you saw his lip cut open and his jaw already beginning to bruise, "what happened to you?” you had asked, hand slightly grazing the boy's, now bruised, jaw.

That was a million years ago in Osamu’s mind, while it really had only been seven. So much had changed since he first met you, you started dating not soon after, and then he'd married you, he’d opened his own onigiri business, and it all led here — to the two of you cooking in the kitchen. " ‘samu, can you get me a bowl? There's none in the drying rack and my hands are dirty.” your cute voice broke him out of the weird trance he was under as he watched you work. “Anything for you baby.” he cooed as he reached over your head and grabbed a clean bowl for you.

Everything was always clean in your shared home, which shouldn't have been a bad thing— except it was to Osamu. As a kid, he remembered him and Atsumu making various messes whether it be with liquids or even drawing on the walls- their home was very rarely clean. Osamu loved and appreciated everything you did for the house, but the ache to have kids that would make simple messes prodded at him more often than he would've liked to admit. He remembered the first time he brought kids up to you in high school during second year.

“ ya ever think about havin' kids? ” he asked as the both of you lay in his bed, his TV just droning on as background noise since the two of you had been talking the entire time. “Hmm…sometimes. I have dreams that we have kids- twins actually,” you admitted. Your raw and honest confession shouldn't have had his cock stirring in his pants the way it did, “Really?” he asked as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, imagining your stomach all round with his children, not one child, but twins. “Yeah, and they look like you,” you said simply, hands finding their way to his dyed locs and running through them. That conversation made Osamu Miya realize that he would rather die than not have kids with you. (and that he had a breeding kink but he found that far too embarrassing to tell you)

When you press the spoon to Osamus's mouth is when he suddenly comes back to the present, “Open samu, need my favorite person to make sure it tastes good.” you smiled as the man opened his mouth and allowed you to feed him— which only made him think of you feeding a baby - your baby. The male nodded as he pulled away from the spoon, “tastes good baby.” He wasn’t lying, it did taste good- but maybe the thought of you feeding a child made his mind a bit fuzzy. “thank goodness, it’s a new recipe, so I was really worried.” you gave your husband a smile as you turned back around, grabbing the bowl osamu had gotten you.

Maybe it was the high school memories coming back to him, or maybe it was him thinking about how the house was always spotless, hell— perhaps it was because you just looked so cute right now with your apron around your waist and spoon in hand. Whatever it was, Osamu couldn’t help the ache he felt in his pants, coming behind you and placing his hands on your stomach. “ ‘Yer so cute…”

“mhm, thank you, baby. you’re real cute too.” you smiled as you tilted your head up, giving him a quick peck on the chin. As you returned to what you were doing, filling bowls with the soup you had made for dinner, Osamu pressed himself against you, his hard-on very prominent. As much as you could’ve tried to ignore him, your husband always got his way when it came to you, “ ‘Samu dinners ready…” you said as you pressed your back into his chest- face beginning to heat up.

“ it can wait…need you right now-” usually your husband was a kind, patient man (except when he ‘had’ to fuck you in the back room of onigiri miya when you brought him some lunch) “You’d be such a good mommy…so good to our babies.” the male muttered against your hair, grabbing your waist and grinding against your clothed cunt. a small moan fell from your lips, “ ‘s-samu! it’ll get cold-”

It wasn’t like you were oblivious to Osamu's want for kids, in your third year you and Osamu had had a pregnancy scare. While many other 18-year-old boys would’ve probably been relieved seeing that one line on the pregnancy test, Osamu felt some strange emptiness and disappointment. sure, it wasn’t ideal to be teen parents, but he couldn’t figure out why he so badly wanted you to have his baby. It was on that same day that he figured out he didn’t want a professional volleyball career, no he wanted to have a true career that let him be home with you as often as he could be (so he could knock you up.) ever since that day, every time you passed the baby section in a store- his eyes would glaze over and he’d mention how tiny the shoes and clothes were, and you’d talked about kids- but never were you guys actually ‘trying’ for a baby.

“ jus’ reheat it,” Osamu mumbled as he picked you up, strong hands that still hold proof of his years of playing volleyball and now being a professional chef digging into the underside of your thighs. Your house wasn’t large in the slightest, but the minute it took for him to carry you felt like it took an eternity. The second Osamu’s foot crossed over the barrier of your shared bedroom- his lips were on yours. The kiss was downright disgusting, spit being shared as his tongue invaded your mouth, leaving you gasping for air when he finally pulled away. “ so pretty…” he mumbled as he carried you over to the bed, using one of his hands to untie the apron that hugged your waist in a way that turned his brain to mush.

Osamu groaned as he pulled off your shirt, seeing that you had no bra on, “you knew this was gon’ happen didn’t ya pretty?” he asked as skillfully he pulled his gray shirt off with one hand, making you squirm under his intense gaze. “n-no I just-” but Osamu didn’t want to hear your excuses, there was no need for them now. his hand quickly pushed you down to where your back met the mattress, lips puckering around one of your nipples as he played with your other one. he wasn’t much of a boob man, much rather enjoying your ass, but even he couldn’t stop the images of your tits full of milk from invading his mind. he let out a groan as he looked up at you, hand covering your mouth as you watched him- face flushed in arousal and maybe some embarrassment. “let me hear you pretty girl.” he came up and caught your lips in another kiss, hand sneaking down to the waistband of your his shorts and pulling them off of your legs in one quick movement. if there was one thing about Osamu Miya, it was that he knew how to get you undressed in a matter of seconds.

You instinctively tried closing your legs, but Osamu knew you too well, his knee already finding solace between your legs as he pulled away from the kiss, a string of spit connecting the two of you as he looked down at you. “fuck baby…look at how wet you are,” you let out a small moan as he ran a finger over your clothed cunt, your panties becoming insanely wet as you reached down and grabbed his wrist. “please ‘samu, need you…” you begged as you shook your head. “want you in me-”

Now usually your husband wasn’t the type to fuck you without fingering you or (his favorite) eating you out, but right now his cock was begging to be freed from the confines of his jeans. “my pretty girl…”he mumbled as he pulled off your panties, a string of arousal connecting to you, making him let out a groan. “need to fuck ya right now…” and Osamu made good on his word, quickly getting rid of his jeans and boxers, cock springing to life- making you moan as you saw it. it didn’t matter how many times you’d seen Osamu in his bare glory, it always made you want to thank whatever gods decided you were good enough for him.

You remembered in high school when the two of you had first had sex, both inexperienced as you tried figuring out what position worked for the both of you and accidentally breaking his bed— something atsumu never lets you forget.

Osamu groaned as his tip met your entrance, staring at you with those bedroom eyes that were like a remedy to any problem you ever had,chest heaving as he stopped himself from shoving into you- wanting you to be ready for him. “please samu…need it so bad-” you cried out as you reached up to his neck, moaning as you brought him down for another kiss. osamu miya was nothing if not a gentleman who listened to his wife, pushing into your hole and bottoming out almost immediately, groaning against your lips,“still so tight fa me, huh baby?” the moan you let out was almost pornographic, back arching into your husband,“ fuck! S-samu!” you cried out, legs wrapping around his waist.

Sure, Osamu could’ve been nice and given you time to adjust to him like he usually did, but who had time for that when he needed to get you pregnant tonight? The male groaned as he took your legs and pushed them to where your knees were pressed against your chest, making him feel extra deep, “s-samu!” you cried out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “yer so pretty, baby, my pretty girl…”osamu mumbled to himself. he didn’t even give you a warning before pulling out and slamming back into you, letting out his own moan as your nails scratched into his back.

You’d always been sensitive when it came to osamu, but never had you felt him this deep inside of you before, gasps and moans leaving your mouth. “feel me, baby? gonna get you pregnant, full of my cum.”osamu pressed down on your stomach as he thrust in and out of you in a rhythm you knew all too well. you tried answering him, truly you did, but even two seconds with Osamu into your cunt made you brain dead. “mhm-” was the only word you could make, giving your husband a small laugh as he looked down at you.

“Fucked ya dumb already pretty girl? C'mon, know ya got more in ya-” The teasing tone in his voice made you want to cry, but some sick sort of enjoyment of being embarrassed held back those tears. you looked so pretty under Osamu, your wedding ring adorning your finger as your hair was messily sprawled out beneath you with your knees pushed to your chest. Osamu thought he could take a mental picture and have enough spank bank material for three months, at least.

“Gonna cum- ah samu!” you whined out, nails scratching down your husband's back. Osamu let out a groan, maybe he should give you more money to get your nails done, because the short acrylics you have on scraping down his back made him want to short circuit. “cum for me baby, gonna look so good filled with my cum.” Osamu was on the brink of his release, groaning as he brought a hand down to finally rub your clit, giving you the final push to let go. you moaned out his name over and over, even slipping a small ‘daddy’ in the chant of words. With that one word, you made Osamu want to blow his load- feeling his hips stutter before stilling inside of you and releasing his cum. you whined as you felt him fill you up, your husband had always came a lot- but something about right now- this singular moment- made him give you everything he had.

Osamu looked down where the two of you were connected, seeing his and your cum mixing as it spilled out around his cock,“ fuck…” he said as he pulled out watching as more seeped out of your abused cunt. it would be a waste if you didn’t keep it all in, though. Osamu hummed as he fingered the cum back into you, making you let out a gasp from how overstimulated you already were.

“gotta make sure it sticks, baby.”

✿.｡.“ i’m having his baby ”.｡.✿

if you can’t tell, i love the miyas.

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

[itsonlydana]

Find a cure for my heart | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x human fem!reader 👑

On the eve of the battle, you and Thranduil spent a night that spurred a flurry of letters while Dale grew as a city and you both grew too, first apart, then closer again. However, you couldn't bring yourself to burden him with the truth that your health was deteriorating with each passing day.

warnings/tags: sickness, angst, mentions of death (reader is actively dying but only realizes after Thranduil helps) hurt/comfort, happy end

words: 5,6k

an: finally finished this fic after working on it since January. If you are interested in being tagged when I post new fics– comment that under this post or send it to me in my inbox!

+ masterlist + rules

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

Contrary to general belief, the elves did not return to their forests immediately after the battle.

In the stories told, there would be remarks, on how the Elvenking offered his help to the yet-to-be-crowned King Bard once more, bringing aid with however warriors he had left for disposal to search the endless chaos and ruins of Dale for survivors until many sunsets later.

They would speak about the sorrow of losing friends and family and neighbors to a war that had been won at costs no one could comprehend yet, and they would mention how the great Elvenking guided them through the darkest of nights for he had experienced this all before; the grief, the helplessness and the colossal question of What now, who's to say we haven't lost ourselves as well as those we have to bury?

Many had their own experience with the Elvenking, whether it was a hand pulling them off the ground, a loaf of bread delivered to them after days of fighting, or a warm blanket to huddle under to finally lay their body to rest under the watchful eye of Elves that had sworn to protect them.

You had your own story. A different one.

But it wasn't one with the Elvenking, no; the night before the battle, where the air was filled with the sound of blades being sharpened and children crying for their parents, you had met Thranduil, King of the Woodland Elves but most importantly: a set of strong arms that caught you as you stumbled out of Bard's tent.

You needed to run away from the discussions over how to draw the dwarfs out of the mountain.

You'd been a friend to Bard for many long years but standing in that luscious tent, being offered wine as the Wizard, Bard, and the Hobbit pondered over what was about to happen while you weren't sure your mind caught up on what had happened already, there was no room for friendship inside your panic-riddled chest.

Just as you flung open the tent flaps and tried to dash away to get some air, your foot caught on a root, and had it not been for Thranduil's fast reflexes, you surely would've planted your face into the dirt and mud.

Up until now, you had no idea what had transcended between the two of you at the moment where his arms held you up, his softening face looking down at your widened eyes filled with tears and your tongue too tied up and heavy to say anything other than: "Air– please"

Whatever it had been, likely an unspoken wish – by Thranduil or you, or maybe you both; it didn't matter – for someone who would not pass judgment over the urge to disappear from your skin and role and crown for one night, a fallen star flung across the darkened skies at the right time.

It felt as though Thranduil had pulled a sheet over your heads; your world narrowed down to this other soul and how beautiful and divine his body felt on yours as you found a way to survive the night before life as you knew it turned once more and the solid ground beneath your feet shifted and broke.

A few nights, while unforgettable and brooding with feelings neither of you admitted to, did not change that you had to move on somehow.

Although the Elves did not depart for Mirkwood immediately and Thranduil and you were given time in the aftermath to find the other in the cover of the night and under the pretense this was nothing more than mere distraction, a wishing star could only do so much shining before dimming out.

The day you awoke to a sunrise bathing the debris of Dale in a pinkish and warm light, pillars being rebuilt dipped into molten gold, and the cracks glued together, Thranduil's strong arms were wrapped around your middle as if he wanted to hinder you from sneaking away, you knew it was him who would leave you before the day was over.

And so he did.

Sunrise came and went and soon enough all the tents were packed up on horseback and wagons, leaving flattened grass as the only reminder they had been there at all if and there were goodbyes, political between Bard and the Elvenking who parted from the weary man and his children with the promise of support, and between you and Thranduil in the form of a slow nod.

Thranduil sat high on a dark stallion, dressed in silver and long robes that hid fingerprints that spoke of an attempt to cling to transience. His chin lowered, though his eyes were fixed on you.

You knew that nod carried the conversation you had whispered into the morning mist.

And it was all that wasn't said that motivated you to step away first and turn your back on the caravan that took away a King and a Lover.

There was much to do, the looming task of building up Dale needed everyone's full attention, and that included you.

Especially you.

There were houses to plan, accommodations to be made so that no one needed to sleep under the stars.

No one could ever pry the reason why you were keen on getting a roof under everyone out of your hands; a lonely part of you wanted the stars to remember you and Thranduil lying in the grass. And no one else.

The first letter arrived a few weeks after you hadn't had the heart to watch him go and threw yourself into one task after the other, dismissing even the smallest hint of sickness, like the heaviness inside your chest every time you lifted something heavy, or tiredness crashing down onto you in moments to catch your breath, to continue working, that you wouldn't find a moment to admit how much you missed him.

That utterly ridiculous mindset stopped as soon as the messenger Elf rode into the city and hand-delivered you the first of many envelopes with the nearly indecipherable handwriting of Thranduil.

Or the Elvenking.

Because the first letter, despite being addressed to you as well as Bard, who wouldn't have been able to read it in the first place, was a list of things the King would send and a question of what else was needed that he could provide.

"It's fine," you said to Bard through a smile that didn't reach your eyes as you read aloud the letter twice, from the greeting to the last paragraph that was signed 'the Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion, Lord of Mirkwood and friend of Dale'.

In the flickering light of the candle dripping wax onto the table between you, the dark circles under Bard's eyes were all the more prominent than when he was running around the city and there was a bottomless pit in your stomach that wouldn't want to add to the many things he was already worrying about.

"It's totally fine," you said to Bard when he asked if you had skipped over a private note from Thranduil or if there truly wasn't one (there wasn't, you had turned the letter over and over in your hands until the edges became soft and wrinkled) and you both knew that to be a lie.

You answered the letter in the same professional manner because even though you wanted to, you couldn't send a letter to a King helping however he could and expecting nothing in return with a smeared "I wish for your heart and our nights and for your voice to tell me we are alright" written under tears in another sleepless night.

The next few letters follow the same pattern, Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion would inquire if there was anything Dale needed and answer Bard's question on leadership and share his knowledge of what was fundamental for a new King, and you would write for Bard on the other side.

The weeks passed and so did the hope of rekindling that fire you had thought to burn in the both of you.

That Thranduil didn't see the need to reach out was a punch to the gut that left little room for anything else but disappointment of putting your effort into pulling on a rope that wasn't attached to something on the other end.

Why waste the dwindling energy of your exhausted body on someone who would live longer than the memory of you?

Every time a new letter arrived by messenger you would find Bard until one late evening you opened the letter by yourself and saw your name written in that beautiful sharp handwriting, not Bard's added in front or behind; only your given name and not your title.

Your hands shook as you stood in the frame of what was to be your house and the ink glued together the cracks of your heart.

'Forgive me for not writing to you sooner and for how sentimental I must sound. It has been weeks since I last saw you and every time I wander through my familiar halls, I find there is no soul around that could understand me how you did, whom I could tell what plagues my mind. The time we spent together has not left my thoughts. Neither has the promise to not grow apart too much and I apologize for not contributing to that. Now, if you would still have me, I would like nothing more than to hear how you are faring. As for me…'

Nothing had the power to stop you from running off that giddy feeling that spread through your chest as Thranduil, finally Thranduil, wrote about the happenings in Mirkwood; not even the cough that sat deep where suppressed laughter spilled into the grass you fell into– the letter clutched into your hands.

Thranduil and you fell into a routine then, one that was no obstruction for the many tasks at hand but made room for each other to hold on to the promise.

You would send out two letters, one on behalf of Bard whom you taught his signature as well as a few more words every fortnight you sat down together, and one addressed to Thranduil, filled with all the thoughts that ran through your mind that you wanted to tell him.

It was by no means as precious as the talks you had now many weeks ago, not when there were days you had to wait for a response instead of seconds.

You appreciated them all the same, every bit of himself that Thranduil wrote into his messages was countered with a confession of your own.

When he said he wished to know where his son had disappeared to or rather if he followed the direction Thranduil had given to him, you admitted to the nightmares that still plagued your mind, the dreams of fire and a monster that still rested in the lake.

You offered piece after piece, chipped bits of your heart into every letter that you sent away, and after a few weeks had passed, and Dale was taking shape with its houses raking their roofs to the sky and its people planting seeds and flowers, rooting themselves into what now was theirs, there was not much left of your heart that was completely yours and not Thranduil's and the letters of his proved that the same could be said about him.

What you did not mention, not with one drop of ink, was that the nightmares were no longer confined to the few hours of sleep you fell into.

There was a dragon, not just in the cold lake where your old home lay in ashes and was drowned in the ruthless darkness, but by the heavy weight on your chest, it felt like there was one inside you as well.

You were coughing as if there was smoke blocking your lungs, blackening out what little air you heaved for when a coughing fit took over your whole body.

It started small, a cough then, a sleepless night there; both accumulated to an uncountable amount and it got only worse as the season changed and the autumn winds lost their last warm touches and the trees bared their wooden arms.

You waved it off as a common cold, nothing that would hinder you from your tasks to becoming a liability the city didn't need in its time of growth.

Then, the coughing got worse, rougher, sometimes taking your voice for a moment until you found some water although that only helped for a small moment, like trying to extinct a burning building with just the water your bare hands could carry.

The worst part was the blood that stained the cloths, the sweats that not only held you awake at night but weakened you at day as well.

"I'm better!" you promised Bard on a night when he had to sit next to your bed, wringing out the cold cloths that lay on your fevered forehead.

His voice was a low whisper when he dabbed away the sweat, pushing your wet hair back with hands that were far too gentle for what you deserved for rotting in bed and not pulling your weight, "You're not, an' that's clear for everyone but you. Did you tell him?"

"Yes," you lied through your teeth, eyelids dropping close from exhaustion but you knew sleep wouldn't come, "he said it would pass, nothing to worry 'bout."

Three days later you were on your legs again, if not a bit shaky and needing more breaks than ever.

You sat in Bard's kitchen, a warm bowl of soup in front of you that tasted like ash and firewood, and ignored the silent pleading in his eyes to tell him what was going on and why you could barely lift the spoon of a soup that you clearly did not enjoy.

Winter wore your body down like rough sandpaper on soft oak, the cold winds and dark hours an enemy far worse than what you had to encounter on the battlefield. This had no logical explanation, nor was there an enemy you could see.

Your own body betrayed you and you had no idea what you had done to deserve it.

You knew that somewhere was a solution to it all, that was the string of hope leading you through the snow outside and the fire in your blood and bones, singing down what little fight was left on the days when the sun pushed away gray clouds and you felt normal and healthy.

The sole reason why you lied in letters filled with otherwise honesty as pure as heaven's snowflakes was that you did not want to be a bother.

Thranduil wrote how much of his time the dwarfs and their trading demands swallowed; he did not need another burden and you would be damned if he came because you had a small cold you couldn't get rid of.

You had promised Thranduil to visit him in spring when the soil was rich enough for the seed to take and the livestock could roam the meadows. If you weren't better by then you would ask him.

Until then work demanded all of you. Even if that was through a white knuckle grip on the last bits of health in aching bones.

⸺

Spring brought forth daffodils pushing through the cobblestone streets. Tilda, the youngest Bardling and a wonderful distraction on the days when getting out of bed was the hardest bounced excitedly beside you and pointed at the flowers.

"Like stubborn trumpets proclaiming winter is finally over!" she said as you followed her outside. "Spring is finally here!"

You disregarded the pain echoing through your body, the weight of guilt forcing you to spend the day with the girl.

She had been knocking on your door every morning, angelic eyes asking if you wanted to come and play with the lambs that she had taken too and this morning, you couldn't disappoint her.

"Aren't they just so pretty?" Tilda crouched down, gently cupping one of the blossoms in her small hands.

Lowering your gaze from the burning brightness of the sun you got a short glimpse at the yellow dots decorating your doorstep.

Then, suddenly, black spots appeared on the edge of your vision, taking you by surprise though they have been your companion for the better part of the last few days.

"Tilda–"

You tried to hold on to your doorframe, bruised hands frantically searching for a grip on the warm wood but they slipped and caught only the edge.

The last thought that crossed your mind was that you should bring Thranduil some of those flowers before you blinked and crumbled to the ground.

⸺

You woke up to the confusing taste of grass on your heavy tongue and the dizzying realization that you were not spread out on the street but tugged inside your bed.

Above you, moonlight fell through the opened window in the slanted roof above your head and you immediately closed your eyes again.

This had to be a dream.

Though your dreams had not been like this in a long time.

Peaceful. Comfortably warm. Silent except for the croaking of toads, the buzzing of insects outside, and the laughter and clattering of your neighbors probably enjoying the night more than you.

A groan passed your lips as you tried to sit up; a seemingly impossible task with the heaviness of your bones as well as the mountain of blankets that covered you.

"What do you think you are doing?" a voice you knew all too well sneered.

For a second you thought it to be a hallucination, a projection or your dazed mind still lulled in the fog of unconsciousness.

The bones in your neck cracked as your head snapped to the other side. There was no way you did not imagine the tall figure that should be across the woods in his palace; not in your bedroom.

"What are you doing here?"

"Merely strolling through the neighborhood," Thranduil's voice dripped with sarcasm, yet a subtle tension marked his stance beside the bed. "Now, enlighten me. Did you conveniently forget to mention this sickness in your letters?"

Ah, straight to the point.

"It's trivial," you waved it off, attempting to assert yourself by sitting up.

Naturally, consciousness promptly slipped away once more.

This time you were not that surprised by the sharp taste of grass on your lips when you came to your senses once more, pushed back into the pillows that had never felt this stuffed. You were still unable to move your leg more than from one side to the other under the blankets and Thranduil was still there, glaring at you through dark furrowed brows and hardened eyes.

You wanted to say something to break the heavy silence but all that passed your lips was a giggle that was more desperate and closer to insane than amusement.

One brow lifted. "Oh, how glad I am you are entertained by this," said Thranduil. He was as rigid in a frightening calm way but all of that was overshadowed by the cloud of confusion that muddled your thoughts.

"Noo," you drew out the word and continued giggling. This had to be insanity. "You jus' look very out of place here – wait. Turn around? I need to make sure you're really here."

He didn't fit into the cramped space of your house, his fine clothing stood out against the poor backdrop of crooked furniture, used towels hanging over stools, and the small layer of dust that covered the areas you hadn't been able to clean in a while; which was most of the bedroom and you didn't dare think about the state of the kitchen.

Where he deserved a throne out of gold you could only offer the chair next to your bed, the one that was crooked and leaned heavily to one side.

That being said, nothing took away the sheer amount of power he radiated.

It easily filled every nook and cranny or tight corner of your humble house, his voice as well as the image of Thranduil, King of the Elves, towering over your bed in long robes and bathed in the light of the night sky, glittering silver like the moon knew the importance of the Elf in front of you.

Thranduil remained stoically still. "I will definitely not do that," he said. "I am here. Where I should have been a while ago."

The accusation would have hit harder if you weren't drugged up on whatever medicine he had apparently fed you while you were out cold.

You shrugged your shoulders as well as you could with your arms bundled under the blankets. "I saw no reason, it was just a cold. Nothing I couldn't manage."

Well, you hadn't managed to handle it, that was the worst realization of the whole lie.

"Clearly," Thranduil said sarcastically and ground his teeth against each other. His arms were behind his stiff back and the way he tilted his head down to you made you feel like a child being admonished for bad behavior. "Do you know how much despair I felt when Bard's letter arrived this morning?" His voice was even but there was a resonance in it – a deep rumble akin to the ominous approach of distant thunderstorms over the sea. "Nearly indecipherable scrambles where he begged me to come; telling me that you have been asleep for two whole days?"

A crack in the form of a small tremor broke through the mask of the all-mighty Elvenking.

"This morning?" you asked, caught up by the first part and ignorant of everything that followed after, and you huffed while running the calculations through your head. "Thranduil, this can not be, the journey is not manageable in one day."

"Is this truly the point you consider most important?" He closed his eyes as a pained expression passed over his face. "You deem it impossible, yet I assure you, nothing could have hindered my arrival here; the boundaries of possibility, for once, were not a barrier but an aid. It reveals your scant regard for your circumstance if your worry fixates on my journey through the land. Not on the sickness that nearly stole you from this world. Two days –" Thranduil took a deep breath, "two whole days where those around you had no idea if you would ever awake again."

"But –"

"No, you can speak when I am finished," he commanded sharply. "You were reckless. Ignorant of your health as if your life was not precious." Thranduil spat the words out cold yet they burned. He was blind to the way you flinched and lowered your burning eyes to the blankets.

You shrunk deeper into the pillows, a hollow ache inside your chest that had felt empty from the pain ever since you awoke the first time.

"But –" you repeated helplessly. This time, he allowed you to continue and you did so in a whisper: "I didn't want to be an inconvenience."

"An inconvenience?" he sneered back at you, the flickering lights of a few burned-down candles casting shadows over the creases of anger edged into alabaster skin.

He took a step toward the bed and you saw a twitch in his lips that had you blanching.

The fury brooding inside him was not new, you had seen it on the battlefield before. In ice-cold cuts of his sword as he flawlessly executed the most brutal movements while his face resembled a mask of the most dangerous kind of rage – stillness.

Now, there remained little of that stillness.

"You were a greater inconvenience by nearly throwing away your precious mortal life, all because of your unfathomable stubbornness!"

"There was lots to do!" you snapped back. Shortly but surely, you were fed up with his anger and the insults he was throwing at you. "This town was suffering far more than me and don't you dare tell me I'm wrong," you had to bury your teeth into your lower lip to stop it from shaking. "Dale needed me!"

The pale skin was flushed red around his heaving chest and delicate ears. "And I do not?" Thranduil road and his voice boomed through your little bedroom loud enough for the cicadas outside to fall silent.

Immediately, your eyes watered. You felt trapped under his gaze, engulfed in pure heat hotter than any dragon fire.

You searched for a response inside you but found none.

All there was was chaos – the loud beating of your heart against your chest like iron being beaten and shaped though all that was formed was pain sharp like a sword edge; cutting through the layers of protection you had wrapped around your heart.

Thranduil slightly lifted his nose, staring down at you through thick eyebrows and a clenched jawline. "You were dying," he said and his nostrils quivered. "I can not fathom how you through that would not have been a greater inconvenience.

His expressions made up in sound for the lowered voice he'd used to speak about what you previously refused to acknowledge.

Never before had you seen him this out of control of his emotions, not even on the nights he had bedded you where he still had a hold on himself.

The way he stood before you, dressed in fine robes not fit for riding, the hem of them stained by dirt, his boots muddy, and his face full of anguish, it was as if he could have been kneeling at your feet.

You ignored the tears slipping silently down your cheeks. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"It was indeed, and far beyond that."

The tears made it impossible for you to continue looking at him and your head dropped down as a sob broke through you. "I didn't know," you panicked, "It didn't happen fast so… so I thought it'd pass but – and then it got worse and worse and I was so afraid to speak to anyone about it." The words tumbled into your lap, where, under the blankets, your hands were balled to fists now that the strength to do so had returned to your body, "I – I couldn't," the night air stung as your breaths turned into gasps, "They – Bard was exhausted and –"

Thranduil's face softened ever so slightly, pushing away the furious frown. "You are too pure for this world," he said quietly and – dealing a fatal blow to your ever-fragile heart – slowly went down on one knee next to the bed until you were eye to eye and his cold long fingers could gently caress your wet cheek.

He stopped, most of his fingers covered in the glistening tears he'd freed you from and his thumb rested on the plushness of your lower lip. "The world would have lost its sunshine had you perished," his robes rustled as he drew closer, silver hair falling onto the blankets like stars flying across the skies, "You must promise me to be more careful or darkness shall be my companion from that day on."

How could you do anything else but break into tears once more?

They flooded your face too fast for Thranduil to catch them with his hand and he did what seemed more reasonable yet utterly out of character: he rose to push away some of the blankets and sat down on the mattress.

While his face showed some revelation of his thoughts at the meek bed of hay that surprised him, he said nothing except for a lowered: "Hush now, shh." while his arms found your shaking body and pulled you into his side.

He cradled you until there were no more tears to cry, until your cheeks hurt and your lashes clung together awfully damp, and then some more, his hands on your back, cooling down the firing heat that spread through you and the other in your hair. With tenderness, he massaged his fingertips into the areas where your head throbbed uncomfortably.

You cried for all the nights where you had suffered, drawing closer to a death you hadn't seen coming.

You cried out of relief that this was finally over, that you could breathe and inhale only the rich scents of Thranduil instead of smoke.

You sobbed uncontrollably long into the night, not caring one bit that by the time the wailing grew quiet and exhaustion rendered you weak enough to fall into his chest even more, Thranduils robes needed to be padded dry.

"Thranduil?" you asked and burrowed your nose into a spot of fabric that wasn't salty. "Can you tell me what was happening to me?"

He didn't start directly. Thranduil waited, his heart stuttering for a second that made you marvel that the muscle was affected by you at all despite the many proofs he had laid to your feet.

Were it not for the pounding headache you fostered and tried to push away by shutting away all the lights and leaving your eyes closed, you would have looked at his face to check for those minuscule expressions he only showed to you.

"At first I could not figure it out," Thranduil admitted at last and his previously stilled hand continuing the circular movements against your scalp, gathering hair between his fingers, "and that frightened me more than anything else. There was not a scratch or a wound, nothing that explained why you were hardly–" he flinched and his other hand held your waist tighter, "hardly breathing. Bard was the one who explained how much you fought against this illness all winter, ever since autumn to be precise. He spoke of the meals you denied, the coughing and shaking, the blood-soaked cloths, and how.. how you rarely slept and if you did, he told me he heard your whimpers and sobs whenever he passed your door."

"He noticed it all?"

"He loves you," Thranduil said, "He loves you just as much as his offspring."

You shut your eyes even closer, turning your head more into his chest as another layer of protection against the feeling of pain that flinched over your face like a stone skipping on water, leaving ripples of agony at the memory of the many times Bard had pleaded you to talk to him. "I never wanted him to hurt at my expense."

"He is aware you thought it to be better this way," Thranduil lovingly stroked your hair – and it was love, soft and beautiful like the elf who abandoned his kingdom to race to save you – "To go against his word to you declares him a strong man and leader, Dale will flourish under his guide and your gentle hand will provide your people all they will ever need."

"So what was it?" you asked the question eating away at you, "This sickness?"

Thranduil's fingers twirled a lock of hair as he hummed lowly, "The beast in the lake is at fault," he said, "and its body infesting the in any case dirty water that you used to still your thirst."

You lifted your head at that, staring up at Thranduil whose gaze was already on you. "The dragon?" you repeated perplexed, "I got sick because of that damned dragon?"

Thranduil nodded, "I sent out the order to have its carcass removed this instant, so no one else has to suffer this fate."

You drew your eyebrows together, the hard crease between them immediately found by Thranduil for him to smooth the frown away with his thumb and a soft click of his tongue.

"So I was the only one?" The conclusion was confirmed by another nod that sent you down another spiral of confusing thoughts and loose threats of a riddle that made no sense to you.

"A mystery," Thranduil said as if he could read your thoughts, "There is no explanation as to why you solely were affected and quite intense at that. I was glad to have brought Asëa aranion with me – although you required more than a handful until your heart finally calmed."

In a moment of contemplating silence, you barely managed to stifle a yawn.

Now that your body seemed to be fine again, all your muscles yearned for the sleep that had evaded you for the longest time.

Thranduil's pleasantly warm body around you lulled you into a state of calmness, his body heat and the memories of his touch you replaced with the feeling of his strong chest in your back, and his hands threading hair through his fingers.

He was curled up in your bed, in your home, not some tent under the stars though you could see them if you looked up and through the window.

As you did so, your eyes didn't travel further than Thranduil and the watchful look on his face.

"You're as beautiful as the day you left," you remarked in a whisper like a slip of your tongue but you meant every word.

While your body ached and wore new scars his hands and mouth hadn't explored yet, he could've been away for a day or less.

You lifted a hand to stroke over his left cheek, over the faint scarred muscles that you knew by whispers hid what he deemed hideous.

Thranduil caught your hand before it reached his cheekbones and his lips pressed a light kiss against the calluses, the signs of hours of work.

"Rest, meleth nîn, you need it."

There was no denying that the elvish words had meant something important, that was clear by the way his tongue had wrapped around the words and breathed them out like a kiss but his lowered lashes and downturned lips hindered you from asking what he had said.

This was not the time to question what was probably just for him.

Later, when you were not falling into the depths of sleep cuddled against Thranduil's chest, when you would step outside your house with his looming presence in your back ready to help you with every foot you set on the grounds, there would be stories awaiting you.

Stories of the Elvenking storming into the city on horseback and all alone, the wind seemingly carrying him faster than possible and the fury and worry on his face lowered all citizens to the grounds as he yelled for their King.

They would speak about the way he nearly broke down Bard's door and how he carried your unconscious body in his arms to your house, demanding for the crowd to make themselves rare before he had them all seized and locked into his halls for obstructing his path; and even though he had no authority, Bard was close on his heels and no one dared to object.

You would hear about the day he sat by your side, caring for you and barking out orders for more water, not the one from the lake but from the springs, and how Bard and his children were the only ones allowed to visit – explaining the yellow flowers that took up every single glass your house had to offer.

Thranduil would tell you the meaning of the words he had said that first night he had spent in your bed, fully awake and watching your sleeping form in his lap until the birds woke you up in the morning; and he would say these words on all the nights that followed.

With him in Dale, or you in Mirkwood – never apart from then on.

[sunny44]

Pole position and broken wrist

Pairing: Max Verstappen x GF!reader

Warnings: broken wrist, medical center, medications etc…

Summary: Where Y/n broke her wrist on qualifying day.

It was one of those days when everything seemed to be in the right place. I woke up with Y/n by my side, her hair spread out on the pillow and a serene smile on her face. The sun was shining outside, and I felt a positive energy in the air. Today was qualifying day, and confidence was high. The car was fast, and the team's work had been impeccable throughout the weekend.

Y/n and I had a special ritual on race Saturdays. After breakfast in the motorhome, we would go to the paddock together. She was known for her vibrant personality and, of course, for her ability to get into unusual situations. I still remember when she spilled a tray of drinks on the team boss during her first visit to the paddock. But those moments, no matter how chaotic, only made me love her more.

We arrived at the paddock, and Y/n quickly started interacting with the mechanics and engineers, drawing smiles and laughter. It was impossible not to be infected by her light and carefree spirit. While she mingled, I focused on the qualifying session ahead. I knew she would be there supporting me, as always.

The qualifying session started, and the car was perfect. I managed to top the timesheet right in Q1, and that pace continued until the end. When I crossed the finish line in Q3, with pole position secured, my heart raced with excitement. I knew Y/n would be waiting for me in the garage, ready to congratulate me with that smile that made all the problems in the world seem insignificant.

But when I returned to the garage, something was off. I didn't see Y/n anywhere. Usually, she would be jumping with joy, ready to give me a celebratory kiss. Instead, I was greeted by worried looks from the team members. Before I could ask what was going on, one of the mechanics, Dave, approached me, a concerned expression on his face.

"Max, there’s been an accident... with Y/n," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

My heart froze. "What happened?" I asked, trying to stay calm.

"She was walking through the paddock, and you know how she is... Always bumping into things. Apparently, she tripped and fell. She tried to grab onto a metal structure but ended up slipping and falling hard. She broke her wrist."

For a moment, I couldn't breathe. The image of Y/n, hurt, flooded my mind, and a sense of panic started to grow inside me. "Where is she now?" I asked, already moving towards the garage exit.

"They took her to the medical center here at the circuit. She was in a lot of pain, but they said she's going to be okay. They just need to immobilize her wrist and maybe take her for more detailed exams."

Without wasting any more time, I ran towards the medical center. Everything around me seemed like a blur. The people, the sounds, even the noise of the engines... It all disappeared. The only thing that mattered was getting to Y/n.

When I entered the clinic, I found her sitting on a bed, with an expression of pain mixed with frustration. Her arm was already in a temporary splint, and the doctor was beside her, explaining what they would need to do next.

"Max!" Y/n exclaimed when she saw me, her eyes shining with a mix of surprise and relief.

"Y/n, what happened?" I asked, approaching her, feeling a wave of relief seeing her conscious and talking, even though she was visibly uncomfortable.

She gave an embarrassed smile, something she always did when she was in trouble. "I’m a complete klutz, Max... I tripped over one of those damn toolboxes and, trying to balance myself, ended up falling. And, well... you know the rest."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair and sitting next to her.

"Is it hurting a lot?"

"Yes, it hurts like hell."

"Do you have any idea how much you scared me?" I asked, taking her free hand and intertwining our fingers.

"I'm so sorry... It wasn’t my intention to ruin your pole day," she replied, with a pained little laugh.

"The only thing that matters to me right now is that you're okay," I said, kissing her forehead gently. "And, look, we’re still going to celebrate this pole. We’ll just do it at your pace, okay?"

She smiled again, this time more confidently, and nodded. "Sounds like a good plan."

The doctors entered and started discussing the next steps, mentioning the need to take her to a hospital outside the circuit for a more detailed X-ray and possibly to cast her wrist. The idea of her having to spend the rest of the race weekend with a cast worried me, but the relief of knowing it was "just" a broken wrist calmed me down.

After a few hours, we left the hospital with her wrist properly casted. I insisted we return to the motorhome and spend the rest of the day there, away from any potential dangers in the paddock. She hesitated a bit but eventually agreed.

We settled on the sofa in the motorhome, with Y/n lying next to me, her arm carefully propped up on a pillow. The TV was on, showing a replay of the qualifying session, but I hardly paid attention. My focus was on her, making sure she was comfortable and cared for.

"Max, you don’t have to stay here with me the whole time," she said softly, looking at me with a shy smile. "You should enjoy the rest of the day with the team, celebrate the pole."

"I'm exactly where I need to be," I replied, running my fingers through her hair. "Besides, who’s going to take care of you if I'm not around? What if you trip over the carpet now?"

She laughed, though she winced in pain right after. "I really am fucking clumsy, huh?"

"You are, but you’re my clumsy, and I love you for it," I murmured, leaning in to kiss her.

...

The next day, I woke up to the soft sound of Y/n's breathing beside me. Her arm, now casted and propped up on pillows, was a constant reminder of how clumsy she could be. But seeing her there, sleeping peacefully, I knew that even with a broken wrist, she would still make her day and mine unforgettable.

When Y/n finally woke up, the lazy smile she gave me warmed me inside.

"Good morning, champ." she murmured, trying to stretch without moving her arm too much.

"Good morning, clumsy." I replied, giving her a kiss on the forehead. "Ready for another day of adventures?"

"More than ready," she said, with a sparkle in her eyes.

"Is it hurting a lot?"

"It’s starting to hurt more now, I think the painkillers are wearing off."

"Well, you stay there while I get dressed and grab your meds." I said, getting up.

"I can get them." She tried to get up but I stopped her.

"No, no. You stay there, safe and sound, I’ll get the meds." She agreed and lay down.

After I went to the bathroom and got dressed, I got her meds and handed them to her. She got up afterward, went to the bathroom, and I helped her get dressed since moving her arm was straining her wrist and hurting.

"Ready?" I asked, putting a Red Bull bucket hat on her head and giving her a peck, making her smile.

"More than ready." She said, and we left the motorhome together. "You know, I was thinking… since I’m going to have this cast on for a while, I’ll make it more interesting."

"Interesting how?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Autographs!" she exclaimed, as if it were the most brilliant idea in the world. "I’ll ask some of the guys to sign it for me. It’ll be a nice memory of this whole thing."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You really are full of ideas, aren’t you?"

"You knew who you were getting involved with when you asked me out," she replied, winking at me and holding my hand.

Y/n was visibly excited, and even with her arm in a cast, she radiated a joy that was contagious.

Lando was her first target. As soon as she saw him, she ran over to him, carefully balancing the cast on her arm.

"Lando! You have to be the first to sign!" Lando, always the jokester, gave a mischievous smile and took the Sharpie Y/n was holding with her free hand.

"So, do you want me to write 'Caution: very clumsy' or something like that?" He asked, as he signed the cast, and Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t hold back her laughter.

"Just sign it, Norris. And make it look nice."

"Alright, bossy." He handed the pen back to her, and after chatting a bit and wishing her well, we went after the next victim.

Charles was talking to some members of his team, but Y/n wasn’t intimidated.

"Charles! I need your autograph, please." she said, waving the cast in his direction, and he smiled warmly, taking the pen.

"I saw pictures of you online with a cast but didn’t know what had happened. Are you okay?"

"I’m better, yeah. I tripped over a toolbox... Long story," she replied, laughing at herself.

"Well, I hope you get better soon," he said, carefully signing the cast with his name and adding a small heart next to it. "And try to stay away from toolboxes for a while."

Carlos was next, and Y/n knew he wouldn’t miss the chance to tease her. When she approached him, he raised an eyebrow and gave her a knowing look.

"Max, you really have to keep an eye on her," Carlos said, laughing. "She’s a danger to herself."

"Tell me about it," I replied, smiling as Carlos signed the cast.

"Y/n, are you collecting accidents now?"

"Let's just say I'm adding a little drama to the weekend," she replied, extending her arm.

"There you go," he said after adding 55 to the end of his signature. "I hope you get better soon."

"Thank you Chili." He gave her a side hug and started walking towards the Ferrari garage.

"Try not to break anything else," he yelled and went inside.

Alex was walking past us when Y/n spotted him. "Alex! Please sign here," she said, and he promptly complied.

He made a neat signature, adding a small trophy to the side. "I hope this brings you luck to recover quickly," he said.

"Thank you, and bring Lily to the next race." He nodded and left.

Oscar was the last one before we returned to the Red Bull garage. He was focused, but when he saw Y/n approaching with that smile that said “you have no choice”, he smiled too.

“Oscar, you’re next on the list,” she said, shaking her cast.

“Honored to be a part of this collection,” he joked as he signed it, drawing a little kangaroo next to his name.

Finally, we made it back to the Red Bull garage, where Y/n handed me the pen.

“Now it’s your turn.” She said smiling.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” I said, taking the pen and thinking about what to write.

I decided on something simple but meaningful. I signed my name, and next to it I wrote, “I love you, my clumsy.”

She looked at the cast and then back at me, her eyes shining with emotion.

“It’s perfect, it’s definitely my favorite signature,” she said, smiling.

The day went on, and soon it was time for the race. Y/n was by my side until the last second before I got in the car. Even with her injured arm, she was there, smiling, supporting me, and reminding me of what really matters. mattered.

When I finally got into the car and got ready for the race, I knew that no matter what happened on the track, I had something very special waiting for me at the end of it all. The race was important, sure, but Y/n… she was the reason I gave my best, on and off the track.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“Before the accident X after the accident”

Ps: I’m okay guys, just a broken wrist

[nateezfics]

WITH SUGAR

♔ PAIRING — san x reader

♔ GENRE — smut, sugar daddy au, ceo au, sugar daddy!san, ceo!san, aged up!san, fem!reader, dom!san, sub!reader

♔ WARNINGS — smut, public sex (in an office/workplace), oral (f receiving), use of pet names (sweetheart/good girl), daddy/sir kink, sexual language

♔ WORD COUNT — 1.9k

♔ SUMMARY — “you have the sweetest taste. i’m addicted to it.”

your heels clacked rhythmically on the marble floor. the sound was hallow and echoed against the walls as you made your way through the hall. your vision was focused straight ahead, the few people that were around mere silhouettes in your periphery. you were steadfast, drawing closer to the all too familiar double doors you walked in and out of every day.

your grip tightened around the warm cup of coffee when you were only a few strides away from the double doors. you straightened your posture and inhaled. this was all routine. you did this every morning — deliver your boss’ coffee to him. just one of your many tasks as his secretary. you stopped just outside the doors and looked over the coffee cup, recounting in your head his exact order. he was very particular about how his coffee was prepared, and every morning you always felt a little nervous that something might be wrong or out of place. he was a man who knew what a liked and what he didn’t, and you were always eager to please.

your knuckles tapped against one of the doors to alert the man on the other side of your presence before you allowed yourself in. you were met with the usual sight of his grand office, with him dutifully working away at his desk in the center. as you approached, his head lifted to acknowledge you. on the outside you were every bit the collected secretary, but on the inside your heart was skipping at the sight of a small smile breaking across his face.

“ah, ms. y/l/n, you’ve arrived right on time.” san’s polite welcome made you smile as you neared his desk. he watched you as you placed his coffee in front of him, and smiled up at you with a nod. “as reliable as ever, ms. y/l/n.”

“of course, sir,” you responded gratefully. you took a few steps back to put some appropriate space between yourself and his desk before linking your hands behind your back. “is there anything else i can do for you, mr. choi?”

he reached for his coffee as he shook his head. “no, you’re good to go. i’ll send for you as needed, of course.” you nodded once just as he brought the cup to his lips, turning towards the doorway to make your exit. you were only a few strides away before your name was called.

“ms. y/l/n, how exactly did you order my coffee this morning?” you turned to see him eyeing his coffee with furrowed brows.

your heart fluttered. “i ordered it as i always do, sir. i even made sure to ask for extra sugar, just the way you like.”

san frowned at his cup of coffee as he placed it on his desk. he pushed it further away from him like it disgusted him to even look at it. “it wasn’t nearly sweet enough. much too bitter for my liking. certainly someone forgot the extra sugar.”

“perhaps i can revisit the cafe, and get you a new coffee —”

he waved dismissively. “don’t worry about it.” he sighed and stood from his chair. he stepped around the desk, drawing closer to you while you remained in place. with every step closer, the air inside the office changed. you weren’t sure when or why it had happened, but a switch had been flipped. the man before you morphed from your boss to something way less professional, something you typically only saw after office hours.

your breath caught in your throat when his hands grazed your sides, his fingers running along the dip of your waist. you were overwhelmed by his proximity and the scent of his cologne. you met his gaze which had grown much darker now, much more dangerous. you opened your mouth to speak, but he quieted you with a thumb to your lips.

“i think i have a much better idea to make up for the lack of sugar,” san said, voice low and sultry. he smirked, and you felt butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach. “bend over my desk, and take off your panties.”

your face was hot from his words. “wait, are you sure —”

“yes, now do as i say, sweetheart.”

sweetheart. when he called you that, you always did as you were told. your dynamic with him went beyond that of a ceo and his secretary. he showered you with riches, and you gave him your body. it was a win-win situation for you, though you never imagined he’d ever attempt to explore this part of your relationship in his own office during hours. your front met the edge of his desk, and after pushing away some of the paperwork, you leaned forward until you were pressed flat over it.

“panties. off.” his voice was firm. you hiked your dress up over your hips, exposing yourself to his view. you pulled at the lace fabric of your panties, slipping them down your thighs until they fell on their own to the floor around your ankles. you kicked them to side, and now you were fully bare for the man just behind you. you heard his shoes against the floor as he closed the distance between you.

you sighed when his clothed erection pressed into you. you moaned at the hardness of him, skin erupting in goosebumps when his hands palmed your ass.

“that’s a good girl,” he praised, and though you couldn’t see it, he smirked at the sight of you beneath him, bent over his desk. “now, stay just like this for me. you can keep quiet, can’t you?”

before you could answer, two of his fingers rubbed at your clit. you bit your lip hard, and nodded at him. you feared that if you tried to speak, moans would spill out. you remained mostly silent while his fingers toyed with your sex, but nothing could’ve prepared you for what he did next.

san was on his knees, your pussy right in his face. he was so quick you almost didn’t even register that he’d moved until you felt the press of his tongue against your clit. his tongue licked a long stripe over your folds, collecting your wetness. he groaned just as your back arched.

“san!” his name escaped your lips at the jolt of pleasure. just the mere press of his tongue against you had you arching over his desk. his hands gripped your thighs tightly.

san pulled his tongue away from you at the sound of his own name. “i’m sorry, what was that, sweetheart?”

you realized your mistake. “daddy,” you amended. you felt him kiss your sex and mewled at the contact.

“that’s better. now,” san sucked on your clit, “be quiet. wouldn’t want the others in the office to hear me make a mess of you, would we?”

you responded with a simple nod, though you weren’t sure he could even see it from his place on the floor. you relaxed over the desk just as he resumed his feasting, face pressing into the cool, wooden surface. you felt immensely exposed like this, dress hiked up your body and lower half bare, san beneath you with his face full of your cunt. from this angle, anyone could’ve walked in and had a direct view of the debauchery unfolding here. the doors were not locked, and as ceo, san was certainly a popular man amongst the office. the threat of being caught didn’t seem to bother him, and to be honest, you felt excitement when you should’ve felt nervous. there wasn’t much room to think of anything other than his tongue and the pleasure it provided.

san’s tongue lapped at your cunt like it was the most delectable meal he’d ever tasted, like it was some sweet treat he’d been craving. he inhaled your scent and savored the flavor of you. there was something intoxicating about your pussy, something so addicting. san definitely had a sweet tooth, and you were the perfect indulgence. he found himself unable to pull away, not even caring for the need to breathe. he sucked on your clit and released it with a pop! “you have the sweetest taste. i’m addicted to it.”

you couldn’t respond, not when it was taking everything in your power not to dissolve into a moaning mess on his desk. you lifted your head to gaze outside the large window, watching the concrete jungle outside. the city was bustling and busy as usual, all the people within the buildings nearby unaware of the sin happening within this office. you hoped the city view would offer some sort of a distraction, but san’s tongue plunging into your hole took up every single one of your senses and flooded them with pleasure. you covered your mouth with your hand when a moan came dangerously close to slipping out.

“you’re sweeter than sugar, sweetheart. and i’d be happy to let my teeth rot if it meant i could have you on my tongue forever.” san’s words were whispered against your sex like a reverent promise. his lips moved over you while his spoke, only pushing you closer to the edge. “doing so good for me, so so good.”

his praise offered some encouragement as you began to grow insane from the pleasure. you were biting your hand now just to keep quiet. you needed to cum soon or else you’d end up disobeying him. your hips began to move, grinding your sex against his face in desperation.

san laughed, grip on your thighs tightening to keep your hips still. “is my sweetheart desperate to cum, huh?” when you didn’t respond verbally, he patted your thigh. “use your words, sweetheart.”

you exhaled shakily, releasing your hand from your mouth. “yes, daddy. i need to cum so bad…”

he hummed, using his thumbs to spread your pussy open. you were absolutely soaked, slick glistening over your folds. he almost came in his pants from the sight. “okay, sweetheart. cum for me like the good little girl you are.”

he fucked you with his tongue until stars exploded in your vision. you came on his tongue in a rush, pleasure surging through your veins. you shook over his desk, crumbling under the weight of the euphoria. san lapped and sucked until you began to come down from the high. you felt him trail kisses on your thighs before he got up from his knees.

san pulled your dress down to cover you. “you did so well for me.” his gaze shifted to the long forgotten cup of coffee sitting on his desk not too far from you. “and you were better than any sweetener.”

with his help, you lifted from his desk to stand. your legs were wobbly in your post orgasm state, and you wished you hadn’t decided to wear heels. your eyes found san’s before dropping to his still hardened cock. “daddy, what about you?”

san chuckled as he looked down. he was throbbing in his pants, cock feeling more than a little neglected. “we’ll worry about that later, sweetheart. i need you to go back to work now.”

you watched him reach down to retrieve your panties. heat rose to your cheeks. when you reached to take them, he jerked them just out of your grasp. you looked at him with confusion.

he smirked, stuffing the panties into his suit pocket. “i didn’t say you’d be getting these back. we are far from finished, sweetheart.” he leaned forward to graze his lips across your ear. “i will see you again after hours like usual. now, go back to work, ms. y/l/n.”

AUTHOR’S NOTES — this has taken me so long to upload simply because i kept erasing it all and rewriting it :’)

i am slowly but surely getting closer to finishing this spoiled series! it started out as a 3k follower milestone celebration, but now i’ve recently reached 6k followers. to say i’m thankful would be an understatement. the support is mind-blowing, i am beyond surprised at how much my blog has flourished over the years. thank you for every follow, every reblog, every fic rec mention, and for every nice comment left on my fics or in my askbox. it means a lot to me, though i may not always take the time to say it. thank you, thank you, thank you!!

please, if you enjoyed this, make sure to reblog it and leave some feedback!! 💞

TAG LIST — @abiaswreck @jungkookieprincess @lilie-dctl @mjyungi @marievllr-abg @mylovelymito @nebulousbookshelf @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @staytinyinmybpack @thesafecafe (if you’d like to be on my tag list, find the tag list form link on the pinned post on my blog!)

NETWORKS — @kflixnet @wonderlandnet

ALL FICS ARE THE ORIGINAL IDEAS AND WRITTEN WORKS OF NATEEZFICS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. REPOSTING WITHOUT CONSENT FROM THE AUTHOR NATEEZFICS IS PROHIBITED!

[marvelseries19]

A CHRISTMAS IN NORWAY

Pairing: Leah Williamson x reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: After two years of being together and on your second Christmas, you both decide to spend the holiday in your home country.

A/N: This is my first fic about real people, so please don't be too critical about it. I'm absolutely open to reading ideas, opinions, questions, etc. Just remember to be respectful. Be aware that I know nothing about Norway, and English is my second language. I know it's a little all over the place but I'm just trying to get out of the worst mental block I've ever had, also the ending might be a little rush, but I kinda ran out of inspiration at the end so, I just hope it makes sense.

Warnings: + 18, Suggestive

Word count: 0.9k+

[You do not have permission to repost or translate any of my stories or claim them as yours]

Your room is softly lit by sunlight that seeps through the open curtains, creating a gentle glow on your bed's white comforter and helping to wake you up. The warmth of the sunlight creates a cozy and peaceful atmosphere, making it difficult to resist getting out of bed.

When you come to, there's a weight over your waist that belongs to your girlfriend's arm. You gradually stretch and turn to face the blonde, who has a happy smile on her face. You are enthralled by the way the morning light plays on her cheeks and the fluff of her lashes as she wakes up. You can't help but feel a surge of love and contentment as you realize how lucky you are to have her in your life.

You extend your hand and run a finger along her sharp jawline, causing her to smile drowsily. You exchange glances and appreciate, in silence, the wonder of this moment: the beauty of the snow-covered Norwegian landscape of your hometown, the closeness of being enveloped in each other's warmth, and the quiet of the winter morning.

"Good morning, Elske." You said it in a quiet voice, not wishing to shatter the peaceful atmosphere you two had built. She mumbled a good morning as she drew closer and hid her head in the crook of your neck. You could feel her lips brushing against your skin, leaving gentle kisses.

"How did you sleep?" You asked while gently drawing random shapes on her bare back, neither of you bothering to put some clothes on the night before. "I always sleep great when I'm with you." You could feel the smirk on her face on your neck. "Cheeky." You chuckled.

Suddenly, Leah detached herself from you, straddling your hips, the sheet falling from her frame, leaving her bare under your waze. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in closer. "I feel at disadvantage here." You uncovered yourself from the sheets as you met her gaze. A mischievous grin spread across your face. "Well, how about now?" The blonde couldn't hold it anymore, and she leaned down closer to your face. "Yeah, that works," she said while finally closing the distance between the both of you, locking her lips with yours. The kiss was electrifying, sending a rush of desire through your body. As your lips moved in sync, the room filled with an intoxicating mix of passion and anticipation. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you lost in the heat of the moment.

You spend the next hour just basking in the love and warmth you found in each other before you decide to take a shower and go out for breakfast.

--

Walking hand in hand, the sound of your steps blends with the far-off cries of seagulls and the infrequent hum of a passing bicycle. The aged wooden structures with their colorful paint jobs and ornate facades that evoke earlier times serve as vivid reminders of the past. A soft golden light filters through the narrow streets, casting elongated shadows that dance along the colorful walls. The aroma of hot coffee and freshly baked bread wafts from the surrounding cafés, tempting you to follow your nose to find the perfect spot for breakfast.

After a while, Leah started to feel the cold. Lucky for her, you found a cozy cafe. Its wooden interiors and inviting warmth make it a refuge from the cold outside. As you step through the door, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the sweet scent of pastries, instantly enveloping both you and your girlfriend in a comforting embrace.

The place hums with a gentle buzz of conversation and the clinking of cups against saucers. Soft acoustic music plays in the background, adding to the relaxed atmosphere.

The menu boasts a delightful array of Scandinavian pastries—warm cinnamon rolls, flaky pastries filled with berries, and traditional Norwegian cakes—all displayed enticingly on the counter, enticing customers with their delectable taste.

It was an understatement to say that it was hard to make a choice, but since you would end up sharing whatever you ordered, it didn't matter that much. "This looks amazing; I don't know why we didn't come here sooner," Leah said while your order was placed in front of you. "I can't wait to dig in!"

"I'm glad you enjoy it, baby," you replied, eagerly grabbing your fork and taking the first bite. The food was incredibly delicious; Leah's eyes lit up with delight as she savored her first bite, her taste buds dancing with pleasure, and you couldn't take your eyes off of the blonde.

The start of the relationship had been a bit rocky, with both of you dancing around your feelings for a while. It took a rather harsh push from your friends to make you confess your feelings, and now you couldn't be more grateful for them.

"You're staring, you know?" She said it with a smirk on her face. "Well, can you blame me?" You replied, unable to resist her charm. "Thank you for coming with me, Elske." She grabbed your hand over the table, intertwining her fingers with yours. "There's no place I'd rather be, baby."

The rest of the day was filled with laughter, adventure, and kisses. You couldn't help but fall deeper in love with her while you showed her every place that meant something to you. As the sun sets, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you realize that you have found your soulmate. Well, rather confirmed that she was; after all, you knew that from the moment you met her. She was the missing piece to your puzzle. And you were hers.

[aphroditestempleimagines]

A nice bottle of wine

Pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x fem!Reader - 18+

Words: 2916

Warnings: oral(m! & f!receiving), fingering, lowkey brat-taming, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don't do this kids), angry sex, rough sex, groping, nipple play, hickeys, aftercare, marking, creampie, bruising, language

Summary: You're an executive in the Port Mafia, playing cards with Chuuya. After a bottle of wine (or two) the game develops into a strip poker and (dot dot dot).

Author's note: Just fyi, wine sends you to happy land faster than anything. And I have no idea how to do this trope, I hope you enjoy it if that's your thing. And you know how I am, I can't NOT turn it into love. Also what am I doing with my life?

"Nice seeing you here, fancyhat", you said, closing the door to the executive lounge behind you.

Chuuya let out an annoyed grunt. "Piss off", he said.

You chuckle as you make your way to the table. "What's gotten you into such a bad mood?", you lean towards him, "Did Dazai do something to piss you off again?"

"I told you not to say that name in front of me", he growls.

"He's just playing with you, you know", you sigh as you take a seat across from him, "You're very easy to manipulate for a single reason".

You let that hook dangle in front of him as the two of you sit in silence. It is not long before curiosity gets the better of him and urges him to ask what you mean.

"Isn't it obvious?", you raise your shoulder.

"No, not to me", he mocks.

You smile as you reach to caress his jaw. He draws back, cheeks flustered as he screams "What The HELL?".

"See?", you wink, "That's the reason"

Time passes and the boss is running late. The bottle of wine Chuuya had brought for the meeting is drained little by little by the two of you. To battle the boredom you take out a deck of cards and suggest a poker game. It's easy to wire Chuuya in and play; all one has to do is claim he can't. Yet it's surprising to see that he is extremely skilled. Most shockingly, his poker face is astoundingly well-built, with no space for any sort of interpretation of his feelings, unlike in his everyday life. Even teasing him does not seem to shake him off, other than tinting his cheeks with a slight reddish hue.

"Might if I change the deal?", he asks in earnestness after a few rounds as he takes a look at his new cards.

You raise one of your eyebrows. "To what?"

"We'll play some rounds", Chuuya rearranges his cards, "Each time I win I will remove one piece of clothing from you"

There's no jest in his tone and neither in his eyes. I can feel the weight of his gaze upon me, serious and predatory, as he waits for my answer.

"Why do you want to do that?", you ask curiously.

"Cause I want to", he says.

His gaze is sure and penetrating as it fixes upon you. A blush creeps onto your cheeks. "You understand I am obligated to ask something similar, don't you Chuuya?", you challenge that steel gaze.

"Will you ask to put them back on?"

"No", you lean towards him, "I want you to remove one of yours"

He scoffs. "Works for me", he says, "Although I doubt you'll get more than one on me"

"We'll see", you smirk back at him.

The first game is won by Chuuya.

"Let's start with the jacket", he moves behind your chair. He pulls it off of your shoulders, his fingers caressing your skin. He plants a kiss at the side of your neck, a kiss and a bite which has your ears redden. You turn away but you know he is smiling at your reaction. You restrain your flustered expression. A game like this could only have one resolution, you knew that. But it was weird how the same Chuuya, who quipped and scoffed at your teasing and flirtations was now, after some wine, forward and teasful himself.

Piece after piece your clothes disappear along with your chances of getting the upper hand. "Rules are rules", Chuuya says as his fingers unbutton your shirt. He plants a kiss where your neck meets your head, sucking at the soft skin while his hands play with your loose hair.

You want to call his name. You have been wanting him to do something, anything, since the day you first laid eyes on him. Yet even after years and years of working under Mori's orders, even after climbing to the top of the food chain of those who rule the nights of Yokohama, he was as untouchable as the first day. But not today. Today he took step after step bringing the two of you together. You did not care if what he wanted was one night or something more. At the end of the day, it didn't matter. You wanted him. Even if all he gave was a night you'd take it over nothing at all at this point.

The next game is yours. "What will it be?", Chuuya asks bluntly, pretending not to care.

"The hat", you smile devilishly.

Chuuya blushes in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. "HUH?", his tongue rattles, "Are you seriously choosing the HAT?"

"Rules are rules", you mock back.

He lets out a growl before slamming the hat on the table. "You could have chosen something better you know", he says annoyed.

"I don't want to", your mind is too slowed down by wine to stop you from climbing on the table, your hand reaching for his ginger hair. You entwine his locks with your fingers; you are mesmerized by how soft it is.

"If you're drunk, pick up your clothes and leave", Chuuya turns his head away, "Do it now"

"I'm fine here", you say, "I still have time to turn this around"

"May I propose an ultimatum then?", he asks seriously.

"Go on"

"Whoever wins the next one gets to give the other one order", with your bra long discarded, his thumb traces your naked nipple.

You chuckle. "That hasn't worked that well for you in the past you know", you say, "Do you have something in mind to suggest this?"

"Do you want me to spell it out?", Chuuya stands from his chair. He leans towards you as you sit on the table, his hands dragging you closer to him by the hips. "I want to fuck that smirk off of you", his lips hover above yours, "right here on this table".

You want nothing more than to capture his lips. They are so close you can feel the weight of his breath on your tongue. Your body aches to close the distance between you, but you straighten your back and gaze back at him defiantly. "You know what they say about short men", you mock.

"Do you want me to choke you on it?", he growls.

"If I win", you palm his half-hard length over his black trousers, "I'll take your choker and leave you like this"

You pull away faster than he can touch you. You deal the cards yourself, even though you hope to lose.

"I'll make sure they can hear you down on the ground floor", he says with the best poker face you have ever seen. You cannot tell whether he is bluffing you or if you truly should pass the next hand.

"Are you this confident you'll win this time?", you ask even though he has already managed to undress you this much, "From what I've heard you have incredibly bad luck at poker when it matters the most"

"That's because I was playing with that waste of good bandages", he says plainly, "I may not be able to read his moves but I can read yours clear as day"

You take a chance to bet; a full house from Chuuya is what crushes it into dust. Your heart skips a beat. Before you could think Chuuya was in front of you. He crooks his fingers at you, signalling you to stand. You tremble as his bare hands trace your torso until they reach the waist of your panties and you tense. You cannot believe this is happening.

"What are you worried about?", he asks, "I bet you agreed hoping to lose". His hands are light and sweet as they caress your body. He's taking his time to turn you on, yet his actions keep hanging from your own lips, waiting for the moment you'll tell him to stop. "Are you afraid I'll find out how wet I have already made you?", he hits the mark, the pads of his digits tracing my core over the fabric, "I already know sweetheart". He presses his fingers on that spot and starts tracing slow circles. His eyes observe you for the slightest objection, but there is none.

You place your hand on his neck, pulling him close. He leans to your chest, taking one of your breasts in his mouth. Your mouth falls agape as he picks up the speed of his fingers, letting them dive into your core along with your panties.

"Chuuya...", your fingers curl around whatever part of him they can hold.

"Fuck", he breathes before kneeling down in front of you.

He takes the waist of your knickers between his teeth and pulls them down enough for you to shake them off. He places a hand behind your head and pulls you in for a brutal kiss. He hikes your leg around his waist, your bare cunt rubbing against the roughness of his trousers.

"These fucking lips", his gloved thumb traces them, "You know how I fucking feel about you don't you? That's why you keep pushing me"

"You ask for it"

He kisses you again. And again. And again; until your mind grows dizzy. He takes his gloves out with his teeth, his hands moving to grope your plump behind. Your folds keep rubbing against his thigh, his clothed length teasing your bud from time to time. His fingers plunge inside you long enough to have you climbing, leaving you before you can fall.

"Chuuya", you whine, "Please"

"Begging already?", his hand holds your chin, "Where's that spite now, huh?"

"Just fuck me already!", your fire returns at the sound of his words, "Or are you scared to keep your promise cause I won't feel anything?"

He turns you around, his hands trapping yours behind you as he bends you over the table. He frees his length and buries it inside your walls in a single thrust. Your hands reach to grab something, anything, as your breath is taken away.

"Say that again", he dares in your ear.

He feels too good for words. The only thing you can utter is his name as he sets an excruciatingly slow pace. Your hips chase him but he holds them down. His length scrapes along your walls as he carefully adjusts the angle to your reactions.

"Do you want me to make you cum?", he buries himself inside you. You nod as you bite your lip.

And then he's gone.

"What the hell?", you heave as he leans on the table next to you.

He is folding his sleeves up to his elbows. "Prove it", he pulls you in his embrace. His tongue reaches to meet yours as he kisses you deeply.

"How?", you breathe.

He pushed you onto a chair. With his hand on the back for support, he leans over you as you sit. His other hand softly lifts your chin. "Every time you open these goddamn lips I imagine them wrapped around my cock", he says.

"Pervert", you smile at him.

He gives you another angry kiss, his knee nestling between your legs, his hand grasping your throat. Soon after he pulls away and leans back on the table, waiting to see what you'll do. You push back the chair and wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him in for another kiss. Your lips trail down on his skin, from his neck to his torso. He is far more vocal than you expected. His hands hold you tight, his moans remain unrestrained. When your knees hit the floor his hand caresses your face in sweetness. He throws his head back as you take him into your mouth. The kind hand that caresses your cheek now pushes you down to take more of him in. His trance is woken up by your gagging, to which his eyes swiftly dart to check up on you. But you are fine. More than that, you want to make him lose this macho composure he had suddenly found. And he does. His chest frantically goes up and down, the song of his pleasure filling the room until he comes undone.

He pulls you up crushing his lips into yours. "Fuck you", he growls.

"Do it already", you whine.

His hands on your waist, you feel your body grow lighter as you are enveloped by the red hue of his ability. "You're already light as a feather", he said, "But I can't risk you slipping".

He lays you down on the table. He buries his head between your legs, his tongue diving inside. He stretches your walls further for him with one hand as he pumps his length with the other. He leaves a few more marks on your thigh before he rises to his feet. He thrusts his length inside you once again until his hips meet yours. He sets a harsh pace, hiking your legs over his shoulders as he calculates the speed that could retain the hardness of his thrusts.

"We keep calling Dazai the slut but you're giving him a run for his money", he smirks.

"Wh..at?", you pant, your concentration driven away each time his hips slap against yours.

"You've forgotten", his voice drops lower, "Mori can walk in any second"

He grunts as you clench around him but there is no reason to fear. A single pencil stands to block the gate, covered in a reddish glow that shines light on the slight cracks its weight is leaving on the floor.

"As if", he takes your lips in his, "I'm not letting any one of those assholes get a glimpse of you"

There was no reason to tense, yet that slight sudden tightness made you feel Chuuya so much more as he dragged his length inside you.

"Look at you, spread out for me like this", he pants, "Fucking masterpiece"

His index reaches down to press frantic circles on your clit as he sacrifices force for speed in his pounding. His hand presses you down, his fingers tracing down the centre of your torso as he admires your sweaty figure. You cover your mouth as your moans climb to a higher pitch than they've ever reached before. He grabs your hand and pulls it away.

"You're not walking out of here without everyone knowing how well I make you feel", he grunts, "They've already learnt the same about me"

"Chuuya..."

"Say it louder", he's hips rail into you, pulling out your voice by force.

"CHUUYA!", your mind goes blank as he hits your g-spot again and again until he has you trembling around him, a white ring forming around his length as he fucks you through your orgasm. You pull at his hair. He heaves above you. Soon, he can't hold back anymore. You feel his length convulse inside you as he fills you, his lips blindly searching for any part of your skin to kiss. The two of you remain in each other's embrace as you catch your breaths.

"Saturday....my house", he pants and he does not have to explain further.

"Who told you...I'll come...?"

He scoffs before giving you one more thrust. You bury your fingers in his hair as you pull at the strands. "You were saying?"

"God...you're a bastard"

He pulls out and gives you his hand to stand. He continues to support you as your legs wiggle underneath your weight. He turns you around to crush your back on his chest. His hands wrap around your torso, his lips leaving love marks on your skin. You see the blurred image of Yokohama as your tired gaze focuses on the window. Chuuya sits on the table as he pulls you closer. One hand travels back to your folds, the other turns your head towards him so he can claim your lips.

"You get on my nerves", he bites your lip, "Do you know how many of my men lust after you?".

His knee opens back your legs so his fingers can snake inside the warmth of your walls. He pinches one of your nipples with his other hand, swallowing your moans in a fervent kiss.

"But I can't shut them up 'cause I have no claim on you".

His fingers leave you. A moment later they reappear in front of your neck as they wrap his chocker around it. He ties it on the back and turns the buckle to the front like the collar of a cat.

"Chuuya...", as the sun disappears and the night prevails, your reflections dominate the glass window, burying the city behind them.

Chuuya plants some biting kisses on your shoulder as his hands fondle your breasts. "Be mine", he says, "I want to be your everything cause fuck you already are mine"

"Are you playing me?", you whisper as he leaves trails of kisses on your skin, "You hate me".

"I fucking do", he tightens his embrace, "Do you know why? Cause I love you. I hate you, 'cause I love you. So. Bloody. Much. It hurts.". He kisses your bare back before letting his forehead rest on it. "I swear", he says, "You ripped my fucking heart out and took it as your own the moment you stepped foot in this godforsaken place"

Words are meaningless in this world. They can be vain or fake or forged. But the way his arms clung around you could not be anything but honest and true.

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @tinypaint

My name is Michelle Fus. I’m a Jewish, non-binary artist. I graduated from the School of Visual Arts for Computer Art and Animation in 2011. I’ve interned at Pixar and worked for a few years at Dreamworks Animation. Over the past ten years, I’ve self-published two books and have run three successful Kickstarters. I now work with Skybound (The Walking Dead, Invincible) in developing my webcomic, Ava’s Demon, as a physical book series for stores. I like hiking, cultivating plants, caring for my cats, and hanging out with my beautiful husband. You can read my webcomic at avasdemon.com.

Check out our interview with Michelle below!

How did you get your start in art, and more specifically, with Ava's Demon?

I’ve always been into art since I was very young. I started to gravitate towards it in first grade, where we were required to keep a daily journal. I found myself drawing in it more than actually keeping entries. From there, I got more and more interested in honing my skills as an artist. I started making my own comics for fun. I signed up for classes outside of school and put together a portfolio for the School of Visual Arts, where I majored in Computer Art and Animation. After getting my first job in the field, I realized that it wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life. After working my day job, I would come home and work towards building a career in comics for myself by creating and uploading my webcomic, Ava’s Demon.

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

Looking things up to learn more before I make art or write. For instance, how many livable planets are in a Galaxy? What does a black hole actually look like, and can it give off light? How long would it actually take to travel through space if you had the fastest ship possible? I look up all of these things and then ignore most of them for the sake of writing a fun story and making fun art.

From idea to final piece, how long does it take for you to create something?

It depends on the feeling I want to convey. Sometimes I’ll work for a whole week on a drawing and then delete it because I just don’t feel good about it. Other times I’ll make something in a day that I absolutely love from beginning to end. Some drawings I never delete nor finish, and instead, the files just kind of sit in a folder. The time it takes varies a lot.

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

I really love good stories. So movies and books with captivating stories usually motivate and inspire me; stories that stay with you permanently, with twists and turns that you can’t stop thinking about. I also love finding characters whose struggles I can deeply relate to. I try to hold onto those feelings and emulate them through my art.

What is the hardest part of your process?

Actually finishing a drawing. The anxiety of it piles on me sometimes. I’ll work for a while on a drawing and constantly ask myself, “Is this drawing really finished? What terrible things about it am I not seeing?”. My desire to avoid making something terrible can sometimes put me in a mental prison where I keep chipping away at a drawing until I no longer know what I am looking at.

What is one interaction you had from a fan of yours that has stuck with you over the years?

In general, I like letting young artists in middle school, and high school know that I wasn’t very good at art at their age (I really wasn’t, I didn’t have the same resources they have now, and I didn’t have any perspective on what it takes to have a career in art, it’s a different world). Kids have come to me at conventions with their work for critique and advice, and I have to tell them that they’re already miles ahead of what I could make at their age. I have to tell them that it’s okay if they can’t make what all the professionals make online, to know that they have SO much time ahead of them to work at what they love. If you love making art, do it often, study art throughout history, and over time you’ll be able to create everything your heart desires.

What is something other people find hard to draw that you find enjoyable?

I have no idea. Sometimes it feels like drawing anything is suffering, even if you like what you’re making.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@loish has been consistently inspiring me since my days in high school. Every new painting has so much grace and power and is so excellent to look at. Her skill in shape and form seems limitless, and I hope to someday achieve even a small fraction of her understanding of art. Seeing her new work on my timeline also makes my dopamine spike, so I’m always looking forward to updates from her.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Michelle! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @tinypaint and follow their webcomic, Ava’s Demon, over at avasdemon.com.

[flkwh0re]

Feel Right

Warnings! Cheating, little bit of angst, smut, small mommy kink.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on natasha for years, but she’s dating Steve. What will happen?

A/n: i need to work on writing longer fics 😭

Natasha, the girl you loved. The girl who was in love with a man who didn't love her. It seriously ached your heart seeing her heart be crushed by him every day. Steve was his name, you hated him and that girl he's always with. She had been dating him for a few months now, at first the relationship seemed so good it genuinely gave you zero hope of finally being with the woman you love. Seeing him run around with that Peggy girl really pissed you off. You never said anything to Natasha because you didn't want to see her soul crushed, but you're on the verge of almost letting it slip.

Wanda, your neighbor and best friend, invited you over early to set up for your monthly catch-up lunch with Natasha. You were surprised though when Natasha came through the door, with Steve. Wanda seemed disappointed that it wouldn't just be the three of you, but also didn't seem to mind because the three go back. They all used to be good friends in high school, but going off to college and Steve joining the military kind of separated the group.

Wanda was aware of your crush; she could see it the moment you met her. She could see the way you looked at Natahsa all too clearly. She finally asked you one day, before meeting up with Natasha. You denied it, but eventually her teasing got to you. It honestly helped you and Wanda grow close.

You all had sat around the table, air slightly tense. Wanda broke the tension by speaking first, "It's nice to see you Steve, how have you been?" She questioned in a half genuine, half sarcastic tone. "Oh well, not too crazy. Just work stuff, and Nat." You had to hold back your scoff. Wanda could already suspect your anger for the man being here.

Steve's phone rang, and you watched him carefully as he scurried to answer his phone. You gave Wanda a look, then he excused himself in a hurry. He gave Natahsa a side hug, not even a kiss. You watched the sadness on her face, only causing your heart to hurt.

"Nat, are you okay?" You broke the silence, her face relaxing. "Yes, things have just been" she paused, "off." You watched Wanda's face quickly turn to a worried look. "Welp, since it's just us girls why don't we spend our time well together! We can watch a movie and have some wine." Natasha's face lit up with a smile, bringing a smile to yours.

Time had passed, and you were saying your goodbyes. Standing on Wanda's porch with Natasha, you asked her if she would like you to walk her home which she declined. "Are you sure Nat? I really don't mine." She shook her head, "It's fine Y/n, it's not like I live three neighborhoods away." She giggled, to which you sighed in defeat. "Fine."

You and Natasha departed, but it didn't take long for her to show up at your door with tears streaming down her face. "Natty, what's wrong?" She tried to choke out an answer, but she couldn't, so you just pulled her into your house. You gave her a moment to breathe, then asked her again. 'Steve, he" her hesitation to tell you gave you an idea of the situation. "Steve was cheating on me in my own bed!" She choked out. You pull her body into your arms and hold her.

It had taken a while for her to calm down, but glass, after glass of wine calmed her till she was a giggling mess in your arms. She looked, into your eyes then something in her snapped. Her lips eagerly met yours. "Nat, why did you do that?" She looked at you and smiled. "It felt right, you feel right." Your eyes widened in shock at her words. Had you heard her correctly? Is she thinking incorrectly?

She scooted her body closer to yours, placing her hands on your face drawing you lips closer to hers. She sealed your lips for a second time, this time only with more passion. "I need you Y/n, I need to have you right now. I can't believe it's taken this for me to realize, but I'm in love with you." You sat in shock, but you were also happy.

You quickly climbed onto her lap, reclaiming her lips back onto yours. Her hands roam your body, causing moans to escape your throat. You grind your hips into her, whimpering as she slips her tongue into your mouth. She slowly drags kisses down you neck, and collar. Eagerly you remove your shirt, and she helps you take your bra off.

She slides her tongue down your breast, circling it around your nipple. Taking the mound into her mouth, pulling moans from you. "Tasha please." She looked up at you, " What baby? Tell me what you want." You reluctantly spoke out, "Please Natty I need you to fuck me." She quickly swapped your positions, so you were laying under her. She slowly unbuttoned your pants, pulling them down with your panties.

She kneeled in front of your core, sticking out her tongue dragging it up and down your slit. She worked her tongue and mouth on your pussy, sucking and licking on your clit. She caught you off guard when she slipped her fingers in you, moving them at a slow agonizing pace. Her pace quickened, and your moans got louder. "That feel good baby? You gonna cum on mommy's fingers?" Her words caused you to clench around her digits, and she let out a soft chuckle.

She sped her thrust up, causing you to scream out as your orgasm crashed through. She moved her fingers slowly, helping you ride out your orgasm. She removed her fingers from your dripping cunt, sucking off your juices. You went to reach for your clothes until she stopped you. "I'm not done with you yet baby."

The following day you woke in her arms, to her phone ringing nonstop. You softly nudge her awake. She got her phone and sighed, "It's Steve I better answer and tell him we're over." You listened carefully at what she was saying to him, 99% of it was just her shouting at him. You were happy though, she was finally yours and you were finally hers. You could not wait to tell Wanda!

[greenishghostey]

It's Fantasy, babe

Pairing: Eddie Muson x fem!reader

Summary: You decide to indulge in a fun fantasy with your boyfriend: Eddie, sneaking into your room and cumming inside you.

Warnings: This fic contains graphic 18+ content. Please do not engage with you are underage! Unprotected sex, penetrative sex, rough but with lots of love, established relationship, fingering, fluffy smut, Eddie cannot shut up ever, enthusiastic consent, Eddie just trying rock your world as best he can

A/N: This is the first smut I've ever written and I promise I tried my best. The idea had been rolling around in my head for a while so I bit the bullet and just tried it. DO NOT REPOST OR EDIT MY WORK

///

The discussion between you and Eddie had been a long time coming. You’d found a particularly filthy romance novel about a princess and her noble knight. They’d shared a night together rolling around in her royal quarters, and he came in her until she was dripping, full and shaking. He had snuck into her rooms after the castle fell asleep, embraced her in her soft, flowing nightgown and showed her heaven and hell simultaneously.

You wanted that too. You wanted to be the princess. You wanted Eddie to push your legs back, knees to your ears and fuck his cum into your cunt as many times as he wanted to - possibly even making love to you at the same time. You weren’t going to be too picky. You wanted your soft pastel blue bedsheets to be stained and sticky under your ass as he. Just. Kept. Going.

Eddie had jumped at your request for him to sneak in on Friday night after your parents fell asleep. They’d had busy weeks at work. They wouldn’t be stirring until at least 10 am the next morning.

And that was how you found yourself under the gorgeous weight of Eddie’s naked form. He was smiling down with immeasurable happiness. He was so warm and solid and beautiful. Dreamy was the word that came to your mind. So dreamy, so pretty, and all yours.

His thick, calloused fingers were deep in your soaked cunt, massaging and stretching your puffy walls. Eddie always did this thing with his middle and ring finger, crooking them up to push you to the edge of orgasm and keep you there for a while. You said he only did it to show off his guitarist fingering skills; he said he did it because he just loved you that much.

“Gotta get you ready for me, princess. You wanted a long night, and you’re gonna get it.” He teased before licking a long, fat stripe up the column of your neck. “God, babe, I’m gonna slip right in. She missed meeee.” Eddie chuckled as you gripped his fingers and wiggled your hips. He had to appreciate that his being a little goofy during sex still got you squirming. 

“Eddie,” you whined, groping your tits and gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes, “Hurry. Up.” You moved to knot your fingers in his shaggy hair, now grinding desperately on his fingers - one of his rings bumping against your clit and fuck. You came with a muffled moan, Eddie having quickly silenced you in a deep kiss. He made sure that his tongue tasted every pretty noise you were making for him.

Eddie’s chest heaved as he pulled away. Like it was agony.

He ran the head of his swollen cock up and down your hole, pressing the tip in ever so slightly to have you claw at his forearms. You were going to draw blood from the bats, but, shit, it felt phenomenal. Nothing got his blood running hotter than seeing his lady all desperate. Craving, yearning, maybe even a little feral, much like himself.

“My girl wants it so bad, huh? My dick, my cum, me. Fuuuck, I love you.” He groaned, continuing to push his angry tip in and out of your cunt. He liked the tease of sex with you. The raw feeling of pushing both of you to the point of nearly mauling each other.

“Ed - Eddie, come on, please. I need you. I’ll ask so nicely if you want. Just-“ your pleas and begging were cut short by the glorious stretch of Eddie’s cock as he seated himself fully inside. It usually took some time for him to get in fully, but he was right; he slid right into the hot, sticky bliss. Your head slammed back into your fluffy pillows, and you had to bite your hand to contain the urge to scream. After two years of being together, he was still just so big. Fucking perfect, but still big. It would be best if you guys had done this at his place. Sure, the entire trailer park would find out that the Munson boy was getting his dick wet, but you would be able to be loud. However, the fantasy required your soft double bed and floral bedspread - your “chambers” that he would sneak into. 

The pace that was set immediately was brutal, like animals, like in the book. Yes, God, yes. It was all skin slapping skin and the obscene squelch of fucking without any barriers. Eddie leant down to press his forehead to yours so he could pant, whine and grunt into your mouth. He was so considerate when he was at your place and knew you guys had be quiet - well, quieter.

“You’re so so tight, baby. Is this what you wanted?” he whispered, hot breath fanning across your burning cheeks, “raw and fucking filthy in your nice, cosy bedroom, yeah?” He laughed breathily and moulded his full lips to yours. The slam of his hips never faltered as he grabbed and rubbed your waist - still maintaining a level of tenderness while splitting you open on his cock. He was chasing his orgasm with more desperation than usual. You made it clear that you would need to be leaking and creamy to fulfil this fun little fantasy, and who was he to deny the princess her requests? You’d been so damn polite when asking him for this too. 

“You said you wouldn’t laugh, Eds,” you murmured, pulling away from the searing kiss by literal millimetres. Legs wrapping around him and feet digging into his ass, he wasn’t going as deep as he could, and that needed to be changed. You could feel yourself gushing with every hard thrust, dangling on the precipice of cumming.

“Would never laugh at you. I’m having the time of my goddamn life here.” He sighed, a wide beaming smile spreading across his sweat-covered face. He was glowing under the light of your bedside lamp. Wow. Eddie’s big hands moved from your waist to the backs of your thighs. Yes, yes, yes, he hiked your legs up and back until you were folded in half. If you wanted deeper, then he was going to go as deep as physically possible. Eddie needed you to feel him in your fucking stomach.

Never in your life had you been so thankful for getting rid of your old spring mattress. Because the force behind Eddie’s thrusting was insane. He prided himself on having impressive stamina that only seemed to come out when he was inside you - quite frankly, Eddie never wanted to leave your cunt. That was especially the case now, with your toes accidentally tangling in his hair. “Oops, sorry,” you muttered, breaking away from your sex-induced haze to angle your feet differently. It would have been awkward, but this was with Eddie. Awkward was never even part of the conversation.

“You could kick me in the head right now, and I’d say thanks, don’t worry.” Eddie giggled, running a thumb over your sweaty cheek. He shifted slightly to get more comfortable for what he had planned - it might be a little risky, but it would be worth it. You reached up to fix the hair you’d messed up with your feet and giggled, but Eddie’s face showed that he was deep in thought about something. Before you could ask if anything was wrong, he spoke, “What’s on the other side of that wall?” He nodded his head towards the wall behind your metal-barred headboard.

“Linen closet, why?” you asked, the gears in your head turning quickly and figuring out his plan. He was calculating risk; you were so proud of him.

“And how far away is your parents' room?” 

“Other end of the hall.” Your breathing had moved onto panting now. The headboard had already started to knock against the wall a little, but Eddie was about to make it a whole lot worse. 

“Perfect. Hold these pretty legs back for me, please?” He was grinning like a horny maniac. You did as he asked almost a bit too quickly, holding your legs back and as wide as you could get them in your current position. “Atta girl. First load’s gotta be an extra special experience, right?” One of Eddie’s hands got a strong grip on your headboard while the other moved to flick and massage your clit in tight little circles. You whined at the contact, knowing that your fantasy was about to reach the first of several climaxes.

Eddie started up his almost punishing pace again. But this time, he had more leverage to force his cock into you and mould your walls to the shape of him. The squelch of fucking was somehow even louder than before. Now mixed with the sloppy sound of Eddie playing with your clit and grunting like an animal in heat. You weren’t much better with your whining and mewling. Reaching up to hold his ecstasy-coloured face as best you could.

“Aw, she’s all sensitive and weepy for me, isn’t she, babe?” Eddie groaned straight into your ear. Your legs had started to shake from just how deep you could feel his cock as it pounded into your g-spot. The reply he got from you was a sniffled nod and your big wet eyes staring up into his. “You wanna beg for it? I think you wanna beg for me to fill you up.” Fuck, he was so right. You hated when he was right.

“I-I need you to cum, Eds. I wanna feel it so fucking bad,” you hiccuped; it felt like you were on the verge of crying from how deliciously overwhelmed you were. “I’ve been good.” Eddie’s gaze snapped down to meet yours, and the look on his face was beautiful. His big eyes widened, and his jaw was slack as he whined at your comment. You had been such a good girl for him. You always were.

That did it. Eddie slammed into you with a few more, and his rhythm was pretty much gone by that point. When he came, he silenced his guttural wail by biting down on your shoulder hard. Normally, you would have scolded him for leaving a mark, but right now? It made the whole experience so much better as you came with him. 

The two of you stayed together, panting, for a while after that. Eddie didn’t want to pull out of you until he absolutely had to, and you relished in feeling his sweaty weight press you into the mattress. The intimacy for the moment was your favourite. For all that Eddie tried to make the world believe that he was mean and scary, he was far from it. He was practically purring as you ran your fingers through his hair and massaged his scalp - a big dorky smile on his face and everything. 

Eddie untangled himself from your body and sat up, scraping his hair out of his hair and fanning himself. The demon head on his chest was staring at you like it was proud. Bastard. Before you could form words to ask if Eddie needed water or anything, he flipped you over onto your stomach and pulled your ass up, back arching all pretty how he liked it. He stared at his cum oozing from your cunt in fascination. Yeah, you guys were going to be doing this again.

“Good for round two, sweetheart?” Eddie chirped, giving your ass a sharp smack. You whimpered and nodded - words wouldn’t be possible for the rest of the night; you could feel it in the throb of your clit. 

[jobean12-blog]

Neighborly Love

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,446

Summary: Bucky is your new neighhor and tension has been building since he  moved in so when the water in his apartment stops working he comes to you first. 

Author’s Note: So my dear love @mickeyhenrys made this edit for me and it sparked an idea because omg it’s glorious and Bucky in glasses is just 🔥🔥🔥and it all happened while we were thirsting over the recent pics of Seb and his MAN BUN! YUM! Thank you so much love and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you darling Daisy🥰

Warnings: Fun, flirty, some fluff, some tension, the doorbell is a pain in the butt, i-mpl-ie-d s-e-x-y time

The below edit is NOT MINE: credit goes to @mickeyhenrys thank you again my lovely 

I’m also including the pic of Seb and his beefy bun below the cut because YES

After a long debate with yourself over whether or not you want to walk to the bathroom in just your tee shirt and panties you decide to make a run for it so you can wash up and change all at once.

With that decision, you open your bedroom door and step into the hall, about to walk to the bathroom when it’s door opens.

Bucky freezes in the doorway when he sees you, his eyes running down the length of your body.

“Mornin’ doll,” he says before clearing his throat. “Sleep ok?”

His long hair is curled around his ears, still wet and sending droplets of water dripping onto his bare shoulders that converge into a glistening trail down his naked chest, zigzagging through his sculpted abdominals before disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.  

Jeans that hang low enough to reveal the defined V-cut of his hips.

He raises his arm, towel in hand, and starts to dry his hair, drawing your eyes to his flexing bicep.

“UGH!”

You push him out of the way and slam the bathroom door behind you.

“Guess that’s a no,” he mutters before walking back into the living room.

Once you’re washed up and you’ve used the bathroom you stomp back out, having forgotten all about changing.

You walk over to him and shove his glasses at his chest, hard. “You forgot these in the bathroom.”

“Doll?” Bucky asks in confusion.

“You’re over here, using my shower, walking around like that,” you mutter as you clang angrily around the kitchen.

“Did I miss something?” he asks from the doorway.

“Put a shirt on Bucky,” you snap, keeping your back to him.

“Only if you put on some shorts and a bra doll face,” he replies with a chuckle.

You suddenly go still, remembering you’re only wearing your panties under your oversized tee. Whirling around with the intention to slip past him, you glower but when you reach the doorway he blocks your path, maneuvering you against the wall.

He raises an arm above your head and leans in, the clean scent of your shampoo in his hair. Your eyes travel over his skin appreciatively and when you meet his gaze you find him staring down at your legs. Your thighs rub together instinctively and he lets out a grunt filled with desire.

You try to unjumble your thoughts, the tiny rational part of your brain yelling at you to run.

But everything else is too loud.

“Bucky?” you breathe out and your eyes fall to his mouth.

He lifts his other hand and gently brushes his thumb along the curve of your jaw, in the process bringing your face closer to his. Goose bumps erupt across your skin at the scrape of his calluses and your mind fills with thoughts of how those hands would feel on the rest of your body.

You breathe out his name once more as his head dips, his lips just brushing along yours when the doorbell rings.

With a muttered curse, he retreats, his eyes filled with the promise that this isn’t over.

“I’ll get it,” you squeak.

He catches you by the arm to stop you.

“I’ll get it doll face,” he rumbles, letting his eyes sweep down your body. “No way I’m lettin’ anyone else see you like this.”

You nod with wide eyes and hurry back to your bedroom, quickly glancing back to watch as he lifts his shirt over his head and shoves his glasses onto his face.

“Who was it?” you ask when you return, now dressed in leggings and a new shirt.

“The landlord,” he answers. “My water should be fixed by five.”

“Ok, great,” you say with far too much cheer. “Coffee?”

“Sure, thanks doll,” he says as he takes the hair tie from his wrist and secures his hair at the base of his neck in a small bun.

You stare for a moment too long before looking away and trying to focus on making the coffee.

A few minutes later you walk into your small living room, mugs in hand and sit next to him on the couch. You place the steaming coffee down on the small table and snuggle into his side.

“Thanks again,” he says.

“For what?”

“For letting me crash here and take a shower.”

“Of course,” you tell him. “I’m just glad one of us has working water to use. It seems like everything goes wrong all at once in this building.”  

Your gazes hold for a second before he reaches for his coffee. When he sits back you lean into him again.

“There’s a whole lotta couch ya know doll,” he teases.

“You’re warm and you smell nice,” you pout even as you push yourself away from him.  

He goes to reach for you so he can tuck you back against him but unfortunately during all the shifting you manage to spill a spot of your coffee on his shirt.

“OH MY GOD,” you screech as you plop your coffee back on the table, spilling more, before you grab his shirt and pull it away from his body. “I’m sorry! Are you ok?”

He carefully places his coffee mug down and gives you a lopsided smirk.

“Pretty sure that was my fault,” he says sheepishly. “And I’m fine doll. Don’t worry.”

Your fingers slip higher and you lift the wet fabric, searching his skin for any redness.

His stomach muscles flex under your touch.

“Are you sure?” you whisper, finally dragging your eyes away from his skin.

“I’m sure,” he replies, his voice gruff.

Suddenly, the air feels too thick and the feel of him under your fingers, the heat from his body and the way his eyes shine with desire makes it hard to breathe.

You lick your lips, needing to kiss him.

His head dips to yours as you move upward and then his mouth is on you, frantic and hungry.

Strong arms circle around you, his hands splayed over your back as he pulls you closer until you’re straddling him.

You roll your hips against him, feeling how much he wants you. Your hands dance along his chest and reach behind his head to tug his hair free of the tie, letting it spill out around his face before you slide your fingers through the silky strands. His glasses go askew and he pulls away just fast enough to rip them off and drop them on the couch.

His large hands smooth down to your waist to grip your hips and you feel the pressure of him holding you down as you grind over him again and again. Tightening his hold, he lifts his hips, increasing the pressure.

With every roll of your hips you grow needier and his grip turns bruising.

“I need to come Bucky,” you murmur against his lips.

He growls your name, and then kisses you again, keeping your hips in constant motion over the hardness between his legs.

“Fuck,” he grunts, his cheeks flushed.

“Please,” you whine, your fingernails digging into his skin. “I need you. I need you inside m…”

Ding Dong

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” he growls.

You’re still seated in his lap, your heavy breathing the only sound when the bell buzzes again.

“Don’t move,” he commands as he gently lifts you up.

He adjusts himself in his jeans and grabs his glasses, pushing them up and over his nose. With one last longing glance he starts to walk toward the door.

“Bucky wait!” you call quietly.

He stops and looks back as you hop off the couch and go to him. You press your body along his and reach up to fix his hair and adjust his glasses.

“There…,” you say. “Your hair was a bit mussed and your glasses were crooked.”

“Thanks,” he says with a grin then grabs you around the waist, presses you so close that feel every inch of him and kisses you until you’re breathless.

Third buzz of the bell.

He stomps away and opens the door with too much force, making you giggle. Then you hear him saying a lot of “uh huh, ok, that’s fine, yeah, yeah,” and then the door slams shut and the lock clicks.  

“Was that the landlord again?” you ask as he stalks toward you.

He nods but doesn’t elaborate and when you open your mouth to ask more questions he presses a long finger against your lips.  

“It’s fine,” he says. “Now…”

He starts walking you backward toward the couch and sits, pulling you down over his lap.

“Where were we?” he murmurs with a whisper of his lips along yours.

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @lookiamtrying @goldylions @sstan-hoe @late-to-the-party-81 @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @randomfandompenguin @seitmai @littleseasiren​ 

[zarla-s]

i forget if you ever said before, but how much of handplates was planned from the beginning and what was added as you went?

Almost all of it pretty early on, haha. Well, at least the main plotpoints...

I knew Sans would push Gaster into the core (not exactly how but I knew it'd happen)

I knew the brothers would stay with Asgore for a while afterwards to adjust to normal life

Knew the brothers would slowly grow and mature into their canon forms while aligning with canon itself (befriending Undyne and Alphys etc) although not the specifics of it

Knew there'd be a murder run that'd get reset and a pacifist run after

Knew Gaster would come back (not exactly how) and the brothers would have a final confrontation where they'd show they were adults now with the strength to face and fight him/their trauma and they'd eventually convince him to come back and try again

I knew a lot of the main points but not how to tie them together exactly or their exact execution, that came as I went along. As an example, shots of Asgore with the brothers were VERY early in my sketchbook... you can see me sketching out some of the layouts for the one with Gaster trying to get Papyrus to kill something at the bottom.

I was drawing Asgore from memory, that's why he looks off, haha. There are also sketches both for Gaster facing off with the monster (although I hadn't worked out exactly what the monster would be at that point), them back in the lab/finding the drill in Gaster's house, and Sans sassing Gaster on the same page about ten pages later in my sketchbook. I also knew that World Revolution was set in the Handplates timeline when I did it but I didn't tell anyone since it'd be huge spoilers at the time lol.

So you can see I was working out multiple parts of the story at the same time, haha. Some of my one-shot ideas got scrapped or reworked, but the basic shape of it stayed intact throughout. A lot of sections had a lot of wiggle room as they came to me - them in the lab, them with Asgore, them in their house, them on the surface, that kind of thing. So what happened during those times and how long I'd spend there I didn't know for sure, I just knew the basic shape of the story and where I was going eventually. It was an interesting way to do it! I had a lot of freedom to run with any sudden idea for the most part, but I also always had a direction and plan for where I was going.

I had absolutely no idea it'd be this long or take this long to finish though lol.

[alena-draws]

Beware of major Trigun spoilers!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Read from right to left

(they are not necessarily chronological to the events in the au, I’ll just be drawing what scenes come to mind)

First part of my Vashwood Reincarnation AU that I’m gonna call “Cutting the Strings of Fate”, which planted itself in my mind some days ago! The concept takes part in the future after the Trigun Maximum events.

While I was drawing I was wondering if Vash is a bit too ooc here maybe? Tristamp Vash is a pretty diffcícult character to grasp for me, but I think considering that he hasn’t really lived through all that that he did in the anime, and just starts to remember the events in the manga, it’s ok if he’s a bit more carefree at first, and not so completely the depressed and sad puppy from the anime...Anyway, mixing the Tristamp characters with the Trimax universe was a fun idea to me! I love both iterations of the characters and their respective universes a lot, sooo why not mash them together?

Look under the cut for the whole story idea:

Many decades after the events of Trigun Maximum, Vash is reborn on the same planet. Even though still needed to sustain themselves, humans are less dependant of plants now, and the great project to cultivate the planet has been very successfull, with the first forests and occassional green that will grow out of the dry soil. Vash is a young but skillful plant engineer, who will also from time to time help out in different towns to have a look at their local plants. One day he starts having dreams about his past life, with them getting clearer and clearer and revealing more of his past. He meets Zazie, who is still the old Beast who knew Vash the Stampede. Because of that, Zazie notices that the very individual electric impulse of Vash, that every being gives off and can be detected by the worms, is indeed very close to the same signal of Vash the Stampede. Thus confirming that  Vash is indeed some kind of reincarnation.

Vash's brother Nai works as a bioengineer, looking after the preservation of important vegetation in another city, where their mother Rem lives, too. Vash meets Wolfwood, who starts to help out in the plant facility as a odd-job man, and they grow closer together. One day though, an accident happens, convincing Vash and Zazie that Vash's history is trying to repeat itself. They fear that just like in the past, Nai who is obviously another reincarnation could run berserk, and that Rem and Wolfwood are, just as well, in danger to become fate's victim once again.

With the help of Zazie that can feel how, after each past event repeating itself in some way, Vash's and the others' electric signals grow closer to their past selves', they try to defy fate and bring about a happy end for everyone. (Yay!)

[neteyamyawne]

I hade an idea for Jake x fem reader x Neytiri. Reader is Lo’ak and Tuk’s mother (Lo’ak still calls her mama) and gets shot instead of Neteyam trying to save spider because she cares for him like a son(she doesn’t die but she gets close to it and is going in and out of consciousness)And you know how Neytiri and Jake reacted to Neteyam getting shot they react the same with Neytiri going on a whole rampage and after they get the gurls back they rush to the rock to get to the reader and get them help.(Lo’ak blames himself and feels guilty because he feels like his mama is the only one that understands him) The reader is in a coma for a little bit but Neytiri never leaves the readers side and Jake only leaves to take care of the kids, until the reader wakes up like kiri did from her seizure crying and Jake and Neytiri are right there to comfort her and Lo’ak and tuk are attached to the reader like a leech when she gets better.

🪷 — Toxn'ong

୭ ˚. Pairing : Jake x fem!Navi!reader x neytiri

୭ ˚. Summary : request

୭ ˚. Warning : war, gunshots, getting hit, mention of blood, blacking out, angst, coma, lo'ak being sad, crying, fluff ending, let me know if more.

୭ ˚. Word count : 2.2k , kinda proof read.

୭ ˚. Note : "word" - dialogue, **word** - flashback

୭ ˚. Extras : finally I'm done with this request, this is my first polygamy fic so please if there are any mistakes let me know, enjoy 😄

୭ ˚. Glossary : [tawtute] - human, [eywa] - Navi deity.

The battle raged around you, Dodging the bullets flying towards your ikran, trying hard to escape the firearms by swiveling around the ship, soldiers swarmed around the waters, losing the ones behind you but now even more were standing in front of your face, quickly dropping down and shooting most of them out, you hide yourself behind a metal wall, you peaked, seeing them come forward you pounce at them, hitting them right on their faces with your bow, turning around and knocking the others out as well, you walked over to the other side of the deck cautiously to see tsireya, lo'ak and tuk strapped to the railing,your heart racing, running forward you pulled out your knife but stopped as someone shot up from the side of the ship, blocking the way between the three kids to protect them from the oncoming danger but sighed in relief at the sight of neteyam walking towards you.

You cut open lo'ak's handcuffs while neteyam undid tsireya's, the waves were crashing into the ship and sprayed over the deck, drenching you all, tuk was crying when you pulled her to your chest , she should not have been here, she should be at shore at Awa'atlu , far away from all this, shushing her down and kissing her forehead to stop her from crying, when lo'ak said "mama, we have to save spider, we can't leave him here" you looked at neteyam who was a bit hesitant but agreed, spider was like your own, even if neytiri disliked him, he was like your own son, you knew who his father is, the man who's trying to kill your mates right now for eywa's sake but that didn't mean his son would be same.

You got up, ushering tuk to go with tsireya, treading your way towards the hallway of the sinking ship, halting now and then when a guard passed around in your surroundings, after a lot of crawling around you finally got to the lab or work space or whatever those demons called it, dropping down you all knocked out each and every soldier within a few minutes, grabbing spider you ran towards the moon pool but blocked lo'ak's way as few soldiers ran into you, killing them off one by one, you ran out of arrows, bending down to draw one out of the dead tawtute, but gunfire rang through the air and you immediately pulled back against door to block your view, your eyes widen when you saw lo'ak with a gun, quickly pulling it out of his hands, you settled the boys behind you, gunshots where still raining down, looking out from the corner you fired up your gun as well, taking down as many demons as you could.

You yelled at the three of them to jump down in to the pool quickly, when all three of them dived in, you looked out once again, the shoot out stopping for a moment so you took your opportunity and ran towards the pool, hitting the water surface you sank down, gasping for air but only water surrounded you, a white hot searing pain shot through your shoulder, breaking the surface the air felt like needles in your lungs as you grunted in pain, agonizingly you rasped out "I'm shot" but soon you sank down again, lo'ak's face fell when he saw your state and pulled you up neteyam helping him, it was getting hard to breathe, your vision fogging but your heard some specks of words lo'ak said "mama…..eyes open…..keep" the world moved slow and you fought to keep my eyes open, you were being moved , alot faster than you expected, you groaned before you blacked out.

Lo'ak was screaming for everyone to move as he, neteyam and Jake lowered you gently on the rock "watch her head!" Jake's heart was beating a mile per second, his thoughts were jumping to worst possible conclusions, he fell to his knees beside your body, as gently as possible he picked up your side to look at your back to see any possible exist hole, he physically sighed in relief as he found no wound but as soon as he laid you back down, you woke up from your blacked out state screaming at the burning sensation, he pushed you down as you looked up at him gasping to catch up on the depleted air level in your lungs, he cupped your cheek forcing you to take deep breaths even if it burned like hell, neteyam was putting pressure onto the wound but it was no were near sealed from bleeding.

you reached for Jake and sputtered out "ma' ja- Jake, i see you-" but he cut short "No! Everything is fine, we are going to get you out of here, just hold on honey, do not close your eyes please" and you fought your hardest but everything felt week, like you were being lulled to sleep but you held on, a screech bellows through the air as neytiri landed, her eyes widened as the sight and she immediately fell to her knees " No, NO, NO , NO NOOOO! Please great mother, nooooo" she screamed pulling your head against her chest, you coughed out, blood spilling from your mouth, she put your head down as Jake helped to wipe the blood, your head rolled back eyes falling close, it was getting harder to stay awake, so you finally looked at neytiri, squeezing her hand you gasped out "tiri, i see you, Jake i-" but exhaustion took its toll, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you went slump in their arms, neytiri's cries turned to sobs , wrecking her body as she pulled you close, lo'ak stayed near his mother tears streaming down his face, neteyam sobbed for his mom as well , Jake looked around, gears kicking in, he placed a hand on neytiri's shoulder pulling her back, as she just looked at him with sunken eyes, whimpers escaping in agonizing cries, but he grounded her "neytiri, strong heart! Strong heart!" patting her chest , she looked one last time at you and got up aiming for her ikran, Jake saw as she flew up, face stone cold as her heart right now. He prayed for the men she killed to go to hell. Lo'ak got up too behind Jake as he tried to convince him to let him fight as well but he was stopped "you've done enough" with that, Jake walked away to rescue his girls that were stuck with that monster……

»»————-　✼　————-««

(Time skip cuz i don't remember the whole sequene😭)

»»————-　✼　————-««

Neytiri sat with your head in her lap, wiping your face with a wet rag slowly, Ronal sat in a corner working on her pastes and salves while keeping an eye on you, tsireya had called for help and you were immediately taken back to the healers mauri, when you're family came back, Jake quickly called for norm, the humans checked your body and vitals were low but still there ,so all of them got to work straight away, Ronal had to shoo them away as she worked on you, the bullet was extracted and the wound was stitched and bandaged but there was still no sign of you waking up, even after hours of waiting, no inkling of a move from you.

When Ronal was done with her rituals, norm scanned and took some readings for Jake's peace of mind, but when he saw the results he feared the reaction he would get when the news unfolds. Jake and neytiri were stunned with the outcome, her face crumbling but she held back. Due to the shock and extensive exhaustion your body went into lockdown, easily said you were in coma, with no way of knowing when you'll wake up.

The whole family was lament over your state but the ones most hit were lo'ak , tuk and neytiri, the three of them never left your side, lo'ak blamed himself for even requesting to save spider, if he wouldn't have said that then this would not have happened, he silently cried by your side at nights, Begging for you to wake up. Tuk was confused at why her mama wouldn't wake up even when she cried for you, neytiri was holding back tears almost every time she saw them by you, Jake was in a whole another state, his mind a total chaos, he sat by your side every minute he got the chance too but his work came in between, then too he tried, he was never a religious person but he prayed to eywa every single minute for you to wake up, to get up and embrace him , pull him close and tell him that everything was alright and you were fine but that didn't happen…yet.

After three days and three nights ,of both the metkayina family and your family who were taking rigorous care of you, sagged in relief when you finally opened your eyes, neytiri who never left your side instantly held you closer, but moments of the war flooded your mind as you choked back on your tears, your mate immediately pulled you in as you cried in her neck, every horrible death, the lives you took in matter of seconds, all came back in a huge wave, you crumbled in her arms as your whole body violently shook with sobs, two more pair of arms of your children wrapped around you as you cried, Jake , kiri and neteyam followed suit hugging you. All of you sat there in the middle of your mauri, huddled together, no one spoke a word, just comforted in the fact that you had woken up, and everything was going to be fine, everything was going to be okay.

»»————-　✼　————-««

Neytiri, even after you woke up, didn't leave your side while lo'ak and tuk didn't even get up from you body, lo'ak was at your right side hugging you close to him, he had told you everything what he felt.

** "I'm sorry mama, i shouldn't have asked to go save him, I'm really sorry, i didn't mean-" but you cut him off by pulling him close to you, rubbing his back you whispered "it's okay baby, it was not your fault, spider is our family too, and it was our job to save him, you do not have to apologize for this, it was my decision, sweetheart, to come with you, and if it wasn't for me , you or neteyam would have gotten hurt, i wouldn't want my babies to be hurt, would i?" You said laughing but he just cried harder in your neck. Kissing his forehead you pulled both of your kids tightly against you, they were your world and even the thought of them getting hurt made cold shivers run down your spine, your family was safe and that's all you needed even if it meant you had to go through all this you would without hesitation.**

Neytiri made you warm broth, blowing on to the hot liquid she brought the spoon to your lips for you to drink. Why was she feeding you? Obviously lo'ak and tuk haven't left your side plus to add to it, now Jake, kiri and neteyam were attached to you as well, the only time neytiri wasn't beside you was when she got up to make something for you to eat.

Lo'ak made it his life mission to help you with each and every task, even when neteyam and Jake tried to have some time with you, lo'ak was always in between. He was not gonna let his mama get hurt again and this time he will keep his promise at all cost even when you made it clear you can eat your lunch with your own two hands. At night neytiri and Jake fought with their kids on who will sleep besides you, tuk always won while everyone got one chance every night. Jake got a lot more protective but his two sons surpassed him in that as well, neteyam and lo'ak were becoming your two personal bodyguards.

Life was becoming normal again, your family was granted access to stay with the metkayina, you sat near the shore with your mates as you watched tuk search for pretty shells, your other children were swimming with the Olo'eyktan's kids, you sighed placing your head on Jake's shoulder and intertwined you fingers with neytiri, she scooted closer to you and kissed your forehead, you smiled at her touch, turning your head to look at her, her smile melted your heart even now, after years of being together your love for her never faltered, Jake just pulled you both closer, him just happy his life was finally at peace, both his mates happy and contented, all three of them sat on the shore, full to the brim with love for eachother, overlooking their children as the sun casted beautiful shades of pinks, oranges and reds throughout the sky.

A/n : i love Jake and neytiri with my life 🥹 they are my babies, if you wanna be tagged in my fics comment on my pinned post on my blog💚✨

Yawne : @fanboyluvr, @callmeoncette, @lu-the-ghost-reader, @brisbriskett, @saltedcoffeescotch, @ducks118, @itscheybaby, @jackiehollanderr, @zoetrope1997, @yeosxxx, @persefolli, @im-in-a-pansexual-panik.

©Neteyamyawne2023 | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!