#it goes through the motions with none of the feeling

[not-the-phantom-of-the-opera]

Should Erik ever reblog any mindless drivel sourced from AI, know this, dear reader: it was entirely unknowingly and Erik would very much appreciate being made aware of such an error, so he can rectify it at once.

There is no glory nor accomplishment in the abominations generated through stealing from artists of every medium, and Erik would sooner cut off a hand than to promote such asinine pursuits.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

P.E. Class

Male Alpha Yandere x Gender Neutral Omega Reader CW: Noncon, public fucking, breeding, knotting, mention of musk, wrestling, mention of bullying, general yandere behavior Word Count: 360 (Super short drabble, please enjoy!)

Imagine you're an omega in college. The college in this realm requires physical education classes for all students no matter their major.

One day the class makes students pair off and wrestle one another. Complete with singlets.

You get paired with the biggest alpha brute, one who often teases and lightly bullies you.

The match is over in an instant, with him pinning you down on your belly. Your skin is touching and his musk is overpowering.

You feel his hot breath on your neck.

Then, in front of everyone, he begins to grind into you. Your body does what biology demands and you produce slick. It seeps through both of your singlets coating his cock.

You try to squirm but he grows and bears down on you with more force until you whimper and go limp.

He moves your singlet so that your hole is exposed and does the same to free his cock.

He plunges it right into you with one smooth motion, his cock squelching lewdly into your depths.

Then he breeds you hard and fast in full view of everyone. Some masturbate openly, others film your predicament, and a few blush and look away. But none helped. It wasn't all that odd for an omega to be taken suddenly.

You couldn't help but cry at the humiliation of being fucked in public. The helplessness of being raped so suddenly. And the embarrassment that came with it feeling so good that you were moaning and moving into his thrusts unwillingly.

After what feels like an eternity the both of you cum and he bites your neck and claims you as his prize. He licks your neck and nuzzles you while you cry on the gym mat, his knot still in you.

When his knot goes down he apologizes that he did that so suddenly, he explains that he had been planning to breed you eventually but the sweat and positioning from wrestling just triggered something primal in him and he could wait no longer…

Then he hushes your protests and carries you, cum still dripping down your legs, to his dorm for rounds 2, 3, 4, and 5.

[recycledraccoon]

Minor thoughts on Oisin and how he seems primed to fuck over Adaine specifically. The flustered ping-pong balls that were a plan all along. The quoting her own words on the previous Elven Oracle back at her in regards to the storm.

I mean...imagine you're a skinny little dragonborn wizard, in a class with a cute elven girl. You don't talk to her, but one of your adventuring party members is pissing thinking that party is getting preferential treatment, so you KNOW about her. You watch from the corner of your eye or from a spot on the back of the class whenever she's actually there. Partway through the year she goes to jail, and when she comes back she and her adventuring party save the world from a dragon. (A dragon of whom your Grandmother had been fond. ((Also, coincidentally, the Vice Principal.))) One of them created a god.

(Your entire party is being groomed into rage by two of your teachers.)

You're in her class again. She is the Elven Oracle, already an accomplished adventurer. She and her friends are popular. She's very pretty. She does not know your name. She does not know who you are, just a skinny dragonborn a few seats back.

You go on your Sophomores Year Spring Break Adventure and don't bother to think about her party at all.

(You and your party are going to kill a god. Your teacher is going to ascend to godhood in their place and you and your party will have Made That Happen. You are angry and determined with each final blow you deal.)

You return from Spring Break angry and with a sore chest.

You find out the elven girl's party has resurrected a dead god and the live streamed the entire fight. They must think they're so much better than you and your party. You'll show them.

(Your friend refuses to change her faith. She cancels the paperwork. The rest of you kill her, confident she will make the right choice and join you again as a proper Champion for your new god. You help kill her. She does not get back up. You hide the body and none of you can say anything. You're so so angry.)

The world descended into darkness and you can do nothing. The sun finally breaks across the sky again right before Junior year. You and your party have made plans and are on the cusp of greatness. You've gained muscles to spare and ink on your scales in carefully selected runes, no longer just a skinny little dragonborn.

(You have a new cleric. He's not your friend. He's a haystack hick from that cult-church from Freshman year, and he's here because the god you're going to kill needs a Champion and he fits the bill, nothing more.)

The first day of school the plan starts to be put in motion. Immediately that party of kids is interfering, in your way. It rackles. You push on anyway, seething inside even as you act the part of being reasonable.

You go to a party at the houses of one of her friends. You've been practicing making spell runes on the inside of ping-pong balls. You're ready.

The pretty Elven girl in your class finally looks at you. She approaches you, gives you a drink, and chills it in your hand. She has to ask your name. You have shared certain wizarding classes with her since Freshman year, tho she was barely there. You have to tell her that.

You chat. She clearly gets flustered, calls you great, and flees back into the house. Your friend teases you for others to overhear. It's a convenient excuse to use your geometry and apply physics to miss every single shot and lay your trap. The drink isn't so perfectly chilled in your hand anymore.

(You talk to her. Play nice. She isn't smooth, but she smiled at you and maybe a part of you is vindictive in seeing her flustered. It's a shame she turned down the diamonds, as dragon madness would have been so poetic. You steal her summons to steal something from the house. She didn't know your name. Didn't remember you. You feel justified. Your anger burns cold like frostbite, like static in the air. You purposely don't wonder if that first miss was intentional or genuine.)

You see each other in class sometimes.

You plot and kill monsters the woods. You will win the battle. You will win the war.

Your parties have a standoff in the cafeteria. You play your part to diffuse the situation, your teacher has been harping on your friends to stop antagonizing the other party. You feel her mind touch yours gentle probing of intentions, her friends all around her as you lock eyes.

(The devil's honey your group gets from that bee girl all goes to your teacher. He is preparing himself to ascend to godhood, and he needs it for his prayers.)

She is searching for your intentions and feelings. You tell her only 'Sorry'. She believes you. You are not entirely sure why. She and her party will hopefully die during their Last Stand exam, and have no way to revive themselves in time, be trapped there until after elections.

Maybe she just wasn't perceptive enough to see the deception.

(You hate her and all her friends. You have had no devil's honey. She believes you. Briefly, you wonder if it was a lie at all.)

They catch you. They know. Your team goes to ground and waits out the remaining days 'til elections and the culmination of everything you've been working for.

It rains at the party, and you have no more masks. You are angry. She must never have been that good of an Oracle at all, and you take joy in mocking her with her own words from long ago.

She's nothing more than an elven girl in your class who was full of herself to remember your name.

(There is nothing left now to stop you from being as openly angry as you like.)

[gloomwitchwrites]

could you do one about all the members of 141 if the reader is super sensitive during sex, squeaks and squirms, cries but she likes it she’s just very responsive

Sensitivity during sex is subjective as everyone is different in that regard. So, here is my little offering to you, anon.

Content & Warnings: unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), dirty talk, missionary, established relationship, teasing, overstimulation, cowgirl, mirror sex, vaginal fingering

John “Soap” MacTavish: Soap is a bit of a tease. (wc: 374) Kyle “Gaz” Garrick: Kyle talks you through it. (wc: 457) John Price: Wants you to watch. (wc: 404) Simon “Ghost” Riley: Simon pins you down. (wc: 391)

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny is a tease.

“How’s that feel, love?” he croons with a mischievous smile.

You whimper. Gasp. His hands upon your skin are simply too much.

Without an answer, Johnny goes down on one elbow, changing the position. He’s not even thrusting anymore, simply holding himself inside you, keeping your legs spread wide over his large, muscled thighs.

“Can’t use your words?” he mocks lightly as the tips of his fingers tenderly graze over a hardened nipple.

At the same time, he sinks a bit further, thighs spreading slightly, pushing your legs even wider. You’re unable to do much but writhe and wiggle beneath him. He always does this. Always teases. He loves how sensitive you are, and how your body comes alive beneath him. All the little sounds you make, all the sharp shakes and shivers, only motivate Johnny to draw forth more.

“What will happen if I touch you here, hm?” he asks, his hand dipping between your bodies. When Johnny says “here,” he runs his finger around the place your bodies meet.

Your cry is loud, and it only becomes louder when he trails upward to circle your clit. His name is there, on the very tip of your tongue, but each touch is a zap, stealing your voice.

But this touching and teasing isn’t cruel. You love every second. It only makes the end that much more electric.

“And here, love? What would happen?” he murmurs.

While still moving over your clit, Johnny leans forward, his tongue circling and then sucking your nipple into his mouth. Your body immediately contracts, every muscle tensing then relaxing. A little shiver rattles up through your spine and out to the edges of your limbs. It causes you to squirm, the sensitivity nearly overwhelming.

But there is nowhere for you to go. You are not only pinned to the bed by Johnny’s upper body but by his cock.

Johnny releases your nipple, his mouth forming a smug smile. “Suppose you need some relief, yeah?”

You curl into him, fingers digging into his skin. Johnny brushes your hair out of your face, and that too makes you tremble.

“Lie back,” he soothes, and you melt, molding to the bed as he flattens himself above you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle talks you through it.

“That’s it. You’re doing so well.”

“That’s my girl. Look at you.”

Kyle delicately guides your legs toward your chest. You’re bent at the knees, trembling, breathing coming fast and heavy. Every touch of his is like a brand against the skin. It is an overwhelming tsunami.

“Kyle,” you beg. “Please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for. Maybe for it all to end even though you crave the sensation.

“Gotta control that wiggling love.”

“I—I can’t,” you whimper, thighs trembling as he puts you into position.

Kyle parts your pussy with his fingers and you cry out. He tuts and then inserts two fingers. Your hips instantly buck and your back arches, wanting to escape from him.

“No no. None of that, love.” Kyle lightly presses down on your stomach, holding you still as he curls his fingers up and drags them, repeating the motion.

Again, you cry out, and then tears sting your cheeks as you claw at the bedding.

“Control your squirming and I’ll give you what you want.”

“You’re awful,” you whimper, every muscle in your body twitching, wanting to move.

“Do what I say, love. Know you can.” You inhale and Kyle chuckles softly. “That’s it. Good. Exhale. Again.”

He has you repeat the process until the muscles in your limbs calm.

Kyle’s hands retreat, and then he reclines beside you, rotating onto his back. His hand palms the base of his cock, stroking gently.

“Get on top, love. Hands on my chest. You control the pace.”

With a gentle tremble, you swing one leg over Kyle’s thighs, straddling him. You do as he instructs, placing your hands on his chest and angling your hips. He guides himself to your entrance, the head of his cock pushing in, stretching you wide, the sensation shooting up your spin and as well as to the tips of your toes.

“I know you can take it. Fuck, love. That’s it. Good.”

You slowly slide down on him, groaning loudly, nails digging into his chest as you impale yourself on him.

“Oh—fuck.” Kyle’s hands are on your thighs, running up and down them in a caress.

It takes every bit of your concentration to focus on the rhythm of your hips. You’re overly sensitive, and this position reaches deep, hitting that sweet spot every time you come down on him.

“Kyle,” you beg, but it’s without meaning. You just need to talk, to say something, to verbalize your need in whatever way you’re able.

His answer is a groan. “That’s it. Fuck, love. You feel amazing.”

Slowly, your eyelids open, and you’re greeted with a beautiful sight.

“Don’t fucking stop,” he says, one hand sliding between your breasts.

John Price

“Look at yourself, love.”

You are unable to move. Unable to squirm.

John has you spread wide over his thighs like a sacrificial offering. His knees are bent toward the ceiling and just parted enough that you cannot move your legs while draped in his lap. He’s got you impaled on his cock, and he is downright fucking smug about it.

While the motion of your legs is useless, you also don’t have your arms. John has them propped above your head because he doesn’t want you touching him or himself. His own muscles forearms snake up and over your upper arms. It allows you no control, but allows John everything. He can touch your breasts like this. He can touch your clit, your neck, and whatever else he wants.

John rocks and rolls his hips, dick appearing and then disappearing back into your pussy. All you can do is flex your hips a bit but it isn’t enough. You are completely trapped. At his mercy. And the sensitivity is overwhelming.

Without any control, you have to submit to John, and while you love it, it only rockets every ripple of pleasure that much higher.

“See what I have to do,” he murmurs into your ear. “You can’t stop moving.”

Tears bloom in the corners of your eyes like tiny dewdrops. You are far too sensitive for this. John is pushing you into overstimulation.

John nips at your earlobe and you gasp. “Look,” he prompts.

The closet door is open. Not by much, but enough that the mirror that hands on the inside faces the bed. Within, you see yourself, and John. You see how splayed out you are, how needy and pathetic you look in his arms.

“Look,” he says again. “Want you to watch.”

It takes all your effort to focus. Every time John rock his hips upward, his brush of skin against you is fire. It causes everything in you to react and jump. But you cannot writhe. Cannot move.

And that only makes you more frustratingly coiled with untamed need.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyelids heavy as you gaze upon the spot where your bodies meet, and how much your body stretches to accommodate him. You can see how your chest heaves, the tightness building and overwhelming your senses.

“Now you see what I see,” murmurs John as his hand delves downward to give you some relief.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Quit your squirming.”

“Then don’t be cruel,” you moan, nearly jumping out of Simon’s arms when he sharply thrusts upward.

Simon’s teeth nip at your throat and this time your body jerks, almost sending you out of his lap.

“Stay still,” he growls, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

“You know how sensitive I am.”

“I do. Fucking love it.”

Simon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s an embrace, and yet there is power behind it, the muscles there tensing with anticipation. You inhale, and your exhalation is stolen from you.

Simon twists, and you go with him, rolling onto your back.

You squeak loudly only to be pinned against the bed. “Simon—”

He crushes his lips to yours, his tongue delving for your taste. The only sound you make is a whimper. “But sometimes,” murmurs Simon against your lips. Your squirming gets in the way.”

Using his body weight, Simon drives in at a harsh angle, hitting that sweet spot deep inside. That vibration of pleasure ripples outward, and your body reacts as it always does. But you cannot writhe and wiggle. Simon is too heavy, and he knows this, which is why he’s pinned you.

“Oh—fuck. Simon. Plea—. Please.”

“Please what?” laughs Simon softly before moving inside of you again.

The only reply you can make is a strained moan.

Simon grins, completely smug. “Tuck in, love. I’ll give you something to squirm about.”

Simon wraps your wrists up in one hand, pinning them above your head. He starts to thrust in earnest, his free hand holding the side of your throat. He watches on as tears come to your eyes. Your body wants to move, to buck and arch against him, but you are completely trapped.

Simon leans in, kisses the spots on your cheeks stained with tears. The only thing you can move are the bottoms of your legs. You wrap your ankles over his bulging calves and cling.

Every stroke and brush of his skin against yours is a roaring fire, rocketing you toward overstimulation. Words fall from your lips but they are elusive, just white noise in your ears. You know that you’re crying, that you’re speaking to him, that you’re attempting to move.

But Simon is relentless, claiming every inch of your body like he always does.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @miaraei

@coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado

@saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @lxblm

@ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow

@kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi

@lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez

@gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

@tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior @glassgulls

[triptuckers]

I've got you - percy jackson

Request: yeah! "percy x fem!reader are on an unofficial quest together just before the big titan war (so set just before last olympian). idk what the quest is but basically reader gets injured during a fight w a bunch of monsters and percy goes a little crazy and does everything he can to protect her and once all the monsters are dead he’s super gentle and sweet w her??" Pairing:  Percy Jackson x reader Summary:  you're busy battling a handful of monsters when for a second it looks as if it might be your last fight. luckily, percy is there Warnings:  fighting, mentions of blood, injuries, swearing, angst Word count:  1K A/N: the show creators need to add grover's song from ep3 to spotify because it's been stuck in my head since wednesday. thanks for your request, enjoy!

gods forbid you're ever on a quiet quest.

you can't wait to get this over with so you can go back to camp and actually get a decent amount of undisturbed sleep.

the other kids at camp are probably spending their afternoon relaxing, or polishing their weapons, or sitting by the lake, or literally anything that's peaceful. not you and percy.

you're busy getting rid of at least half a dozen monsters.

percy's is in the distance, fighting his way through a couple of monsters. he's a blur of movement and you occasionally hear him curse or make a sound.

you know percy can handle himself. but it doesn't stop you from looking over your shoulder every once in a while, to check on him.

the second time you try to catch a glimpse of percy, it's a mistake.

you feel something sharp sink into your side.

with one swing of your sword you decapitate the monster, but not before his fang breaks off, still stuck in your leg.

'oh fuck.' you mutter as you see blood start to gush out of the wound around the fang.

but there's no time to rest. another monster lashes out at you, raking his claws through your shoulder.

you yell out in pain, getting percy's attention.

you drive your sword through the monster just as percy starts running toward you.

'fuck.' you mutter, looking at your leg.

well, that doesn't look good. you know demigods don't live long. but you would have liked some more time with percy. preferably when you don't have to fight monsters.

'y/n!' yells percy, who has nearly reached you.

'percy...' you say as he catches you before you fall to the ground.

'shit, hold on.' says percy. he carefully lowers you to the ground in his arms. there's a panicked look in his eyes as he looks at your leg.

he quickly reaches down and tears off a piece of his shirt.

'percy!' you yell, looking at a monster that's running towards the two of you at full speed.

with one swift motion, percy slices through the monster with his sword, then he drops it and turns back to you.

he pulls you towards him and wraps the piece of his shirt around your thigh, above your wound.

'how many behind me?' he says.

you look over his shoulder, quickly counting the monsters that are making their way to you. it doesn't look good. 'seven.'

'sorry.'

'wait, for what-'

you're cut off as percy pulls the knot tight, sending a sharp pain through your leg.

'fuck! percy!' you curse.

'I said sorry. stay here do not pull that out.' says percy, pointing at the fang that's still stuck in your leg. he presses a quick kiss to your forehead before turning around and charging the monsters.

you knew percy could fight but holy shit.

it's like he moves with unnatural speed as he works his way through the monsters, making sure none of them slip past him to you.

even more so, he makes it look easy. almost god-like.

when you overheard someone from your cabin say that he's the most powerful demigod of your generation, you thought "sure he's a poseidon kid, it makes sense". you hadn't really thought much of it.

to you percy had always been, well, percy.

he always makes you laugh with bad jokes and saves you a spot at the campfire. he'll walk with you to your cabin if it's raining so you wouldn't get soaked. he prefers to sleep with you next to him, claiming it's so he won't get nightmares, but you know it's because he just wants to use you as his pillow.

but as you see him fighting off the monsters, lashing out and stabbing them like it's nothing, you realise what others see when they look at him.

suddenly percy is in front of you again, brushing monster dust off of his shoulder like it's no big deal.

'you okay?' he says, kneeling in front of you. he reaches out to gently cup your face.

you're silent as you look at him.

'y/n?' he says, looking you in your eyes, brows furrowed.

'did I mention I'm like, really really in love with you?' you say.

percy smiles briefly. 'yeah you've mentioned it.' he says. 'how are you feeling?'

'lucky to have you on my side.'

'I meant your leg, y/n.' he says, moving so he can inspect your leg.

'still hurts.'

'that shoulder also looks bad.' says percy. 'listen, I'll pull the fang out and give you nectar but it will still hurt, okay? then we'll look at your shoulder.'

'alright, make it quick.'

percy nods, then hands you some nectar.

'want me to count down?' he asks.

you nod, reaching out to take one of his hands in yours.

percy wraps his free hand around the fang.

you take a deep breath and nod at percy.

percy looks you in the eye and gives you an encouraging smile. 'sorry in advance. 3... 2... 1!'

with one swift motion he pulls the fang out. blood gushes out of the wound and the pain is unbearable. you close your eyes and feel how percy gently pushes the nectar to you and you take a sip.

it tastes like the drink sally made for you when you visited percy's home for the first time.

you keep your eyes closed as you wait for the pain to go away. you can feel percy rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, comforting you.

'it's already helping.' says percy softly.

you reach out and wrap your arms around percy.

'it's okay. I've got you.' says percy, holding you close. 'we can sit here for a while, but then we have to keep moving, okay?'

'okay.' you say, feeling percy press a kiss to your forehead.

you're really glad percy's here with you. if it weren't for him, you're not sure you would have made it back to camp in one piece, or at all.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max

[joelmillerisapunk]

who's your daddy?

daddy!Joel x f!reader

masterlist ♡ soft daddy masterlist

↳ wordcount: 2,291

↳ summary: you find comfort and care in the arms of an older lover, feeling safe and loved in their presence.

~Or~

you're feeling down after a long week of unsuccessful dating app swipes, but Joel's "daddy effect" makes you feel desired and loved. You spend the night at his mansion, basking in his attention and care.

↳ warnings: 18+, daddy!joel, aftercare, unprotected p in v, implied age gap (make it your own babe)

↳ notes: Hi! I've been heavy into 90s/early 00's country. This is heavily inspired by a few songs. Ty @saradika-graphics for the divider I will use forever 🩷

It's been a long week at college, and you're feeling down. You've been swiping through dating apps and talking to guys your age, but none of them seem interested in you, nor you in them. You feel like you're stuck in a rut, like you're going through the motions without any real connection. That's when you remember Joel's invitation. Joel is an older man, about twice your age that you've been seeing on and off for the past few months. He's wealthy, successful, and always makes you feel desired. He calls it the "daddy effect," and you have to admit, it's a turn-on. You text him, asking if you can come over and spend the night. He responds almost immediately, telling you to come on over.

As you drive up to Joel's mansion, you feel a sense of anticipation building in your chest. You've been here before, but it never fails to impress you. The house is massive, with sprawling gardens and a private pool. Joel greets you at the door with a warm smile and a kiss. "Hey there, beautiful," he says, his voice low and soothing.

You follow him inside and settle onto the couch, snuggling up against him as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. You can smell his cologne, a spicy, woodsy scent that makes you feel warm and safe. "I've just been having a bit of a dry spell lately," you confess. "None of the college boys seem to be interested in me."

Joel chuckles. "Well, that's their loss. You don't need them anyway. You've got me."

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I know," you say softly.

Joel leans in to kiss you, his lips soft and warm against yours. You can taste the wine he's been drinking, a rich, full-bodied red that makes you feel a little dizzy. "Come on," he murmurs, breaking the kiss. "Let's go upstairs."

Joel leads you up to his bathroom, a spacious and luxurious space with marble tiles and a large, ornate mirror. The room is dimly lit, with soft, warm light casting a golden glow over everything. As you enter, you notice that Joel has prepared a bubble bath for you. The tub is massive, easily big enough for two, and already filled with steaming hot water and a generous helping of bubbles. The room is filled with a warm, soothing mist, making the air feel soft and moist against your skin.

Joel helps you undress, his hands gentle as he removes your clothes. He unbuttons your blouse slowly, his fingers brushing against your skin with just the right amount of pressure. You can feel the heat building between you as he undoes your bra, his hands cupping your breasts gently as he slides it off your shoulders. You shiver with anticipation as he slides your jeans down your legs, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as he goes.

You can feel the tension building inside you, the need for release. Joel helps you step out of your clothes, his eyes taking in every inch of your body with a look of pure desire. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

He guides you into the tub, his hands steady as you step inside. The water is warm and inviting, the bubbles soft and soothing against your skin. Joel gets in behind you, his legs on either side of yours. You can feel the warmth of his body seeping into yours, his skin slightly damp against yours. His legs are strong, and you can feel the roughness of the hair against your skin. Joel wraps his arms around you, his chest pressed against your back. You can feel his heart beating in time with yours, strong and steady.

"Feel good, baby?" he asks, nuzzling your neck.

You nod, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. Joel starts to massage your shoulders, his fingers working out the knots and tension that have built up over the week. His touch is firm but gentle, and you can feel the tension melting away under his skilled fingers.

"That's right, baby," he murmurs. "Just let Daddy take care of you. You don't have to think about anything right now except feeling good."

Joel's massage becomes more sensual as he moves his hands down your body, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. You can feel the heat building between you, the desire rising. You arch your back, pressing yourself against him, feeling his hardness against your softness.

"You like that, baby?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod, biting your lip as he continues to tease you.

"Good, baby," he murmurs. "Daddy's gonna make you feel so good. Just let go."

Joel's hands continue to explore your body, moving down your arms and across your chest, his fingers lingering on your nipples before continuing down your stomach and to your inner thighs. He teases you, coming close to your center but never quite touching it, making you squirm with anticipation.

"Please, Joel," you whisper, your voice full of desire.

"Please what, baby?" he murmurs in your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

"Please touch me," you beg, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel's hand finally moves to your center, his fingers tracing slow circles around your clit before gently slipping inside of you. You moan with pleasure as he begins to move his fingers in and out, his other hand still massaging your breasts.

"That's right, baby," he murmurs. "You don't have to think about anything else right now except feeling good. Daddy's gonna fuck the stress."

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your hips bucking against his hand as he continues to fuck you with his fingers.

"Joel," you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I've got you, baby," he murmurs. "Daddy's got you. S'okay.”

Joel's touch sends waves of pleasure through your body as he continues to explore you with his fingers. The intensity of the sensation builds, your heart races, and your breathing becomes shallow. Every nerve ending is alive with electricity, and you feel like you're on the edge of something incredible.

Suddenly, the wave crashes over you, and you come apart in Joel's arms. Your orgasm is powerful and all-consuming, leaving you breathless and trembling. Joel holds you close, his arms wrapped around you in a comforting embrace, and you feel safe and loved in his presence.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm subside, you look up at Joel, your eyes shining with gratitude and affection. He smiles down at you, his own eyes filled with desire and tenderness.

Joel helps you out of the tub, his hands steady as you step out onto the soft, plush mat. He wraps a warm, fluffy towel around you, his touch gentle as he dries you off. You can feel the warmth of his body seeping into yours, his skin slightly damp against yours.

He leads you to the bed, his arms wrapped around you as he carries you. You feel safe and loved in his presence, his strength and warmth enveloping you.

As he lays you down on the soft, cool sheets, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation building inside of you. Joel is an experienced lover, and you know that he will take care of you in every way possible.

Joel strips off his towel, his body strong and toned. You can't help but feel a sense of awe as you take in his body, his muscles rippling in the soft, warm light. He climbs onto the bed, his body hovering over yours, his eyes burning with desire.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with lust. "Daddy's gonna make you feel so good."

He stretches out beside you, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you. You can feel the heat of his body against yours, and you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement as he begins to touch you.

Joel's hands roam over your body, his touch firm and confident. He knows exactly what you need, and he's not afraid to take it.

"You like that, baby?" he murmurs in your ear. You nod, unable to speak as the pleasure builds inside of you. Joel's touch is electric, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He teases you, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin before moving lower and lower. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, your body responding to his touch.

"You're so wet for Daddy. You want me to fuck you, don't you?"

You nod, biting your lip as he continues to tease you.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he commands.

"I want you to fuck me, Daddy," you whisper, your voice trembling with desire.

"That's right, baby," Joel murmurs. “You're gonna come apart in my arms." Joel moves between your legs, his hard length pressing against your wet and ready core. He teases you, his tip sliding up and down your folds before slowly pushing inside.

You gasp with pleasure as he fills you up, your body stretching to accommodate him. His thrusts are slow and deliberate at first, building in intensity as he takes you higher and higher.

"Yess daddy please," you moan, your voice trembling with pleasure.

"Take it. Take all of Daddy's cock."

His thrusts become more urgent as he takes what he wants from you. You can feel yourself spiraling deeper and deeper, your orgasm building inside of you.

"Let go, baby," Joel murmurs. "Daddy's got you. S'okay.”

The wave crashes over you, and you come apart in Joel's arms. Your orgasm is powerful and all-consuming, leaving you breathless and trembling. Joel holds you close, his arms wrapped around you as you ride out the aftershocks.

"I gotcha baby, you're doin' so good."

Joel continues to thrust into you, his movements becoming more urgent and intense as he feels himself getting closer to the edge. He can feel your muscles clenching around him, your orgasm still pulsing through your body, and it's all he can do to hold back his own release.

"Come for me again, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "I want to feel you come apart around me one more time."

You moan softly, your body responding to his words. You can feel another orgasm building inside of you, the pleasure already so intense that you're not sure you can take much more. But Joel's hands are on your hips, holding you steady as he thrusts into you, and you know that he won't let you go until you've come apart for him one last time.

Your orgasm crashes over you, even more intense than the first. You can feel your muscles clenching around Joel's cock, your body shaking with pleasure as he continues to thrust into you. And then, with a low primal moan, Joel finds his own release, his hot seed filling you up as he collapsapses onto your body.

You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck as he pants and shudders, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his own orgasm. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both come down from your high.

"God, baby," Joel murmurs, his voice husky and spent. "You are so... perfect."

You smile, feeling a sense of satisfaction and contentment wash over you. You've never felt so connected to someone, so loved and cherished. And it's all thanks to Joel, who has shown you a kind of love and affection that you never knew was possible.

Joel rolls onto his side, pulling you with him so that you're both lying on your sides, facing each other. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his eyes soft and loving. Joel pulls you close to him, his arms wrapped tightly around your body. He kisses your forehead softly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you catch your breath. Joel gets up from the bed and walks over to the en-suite bathroom, turning on the lights and starting the water for a warm bath. He returns to the bed and scoops you up in his arms, carrying you to the bathroom and gently placing you in the tub.

He climbs in behind you, his legs on either side of yours. You can feel the warmth of his body seeping into yours, his skin slightly damp against yours. Joel picks up a washcloth and a bottle of body wash, lathering it up before gently cleaning your body. He takes his time, washing every inch of you with tenderness and care. Once you're clean, Joel helps you out of the tub and wraps a plush towel around you, drying you off gently before leading you back to the bedroom. He tucks you into bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin and wrapping his arms around you.

You can feel the weight of the world lifting off your shoulders as you sink deeper into the pillows, your eyelids growing heavy. Joel's arms are a comforting presence, holding you close as you drift off to sleep. As you fade into unconsciousness, you can hear Joel's soft whispers in your ear, telling you how much he cares for you and how he'll always be there for you. “You're safe and loved baby.”

You feel safe and loved in his presence, and you know that he will always be there for you, no matter what. And with that thought, you fall into a deep and peaceful sleep.

---

If you're looking for more, there's another part! Bad Habits

[bamfkeeper]

You were taken and Kurt does everything he can to to get you back.

I wanted to write something like this since the post where he sees you get hurt and goes nuts. This is sorta like that but more extreme. A little darker than what I've written before. Please skip this one if the warnings make you uncomfortable. There might be a part two that features more recovery, maybe. Idk yet we will see.

Warnings: Gender neutral mutant!reader, kidnapping, descriptions of injury, creepy soldiers, violence, mutant prejudice (the term 'mutie' is used), mentions/descriptions of physical abuse via soldiers to reader, good ending I promise, unedited (at this point please just expect it lmao I never edit my writing bc I'm lazy).

WC: 3.4k

It happened so fast, a blur of motion and confusion. You barely had time to react before you were snatched from the comforting surroundings of your bedroom and forcefully shoved into a heavily armored vehicle. The interior was cramped, filled to the brim with men in imposing uniforms, their expressions stern and unyielding. You looked up at all of them, your heart pounding in your chest.

Your powers were gone, they had put that damn collar on you, the one designed to nullify your abilities. In that moment, you felt completely and utterly helpless, stripped of your defenses and at the mercy of your captors. They knew it too.

"Poor thing. It doesn't know what to do, does it?" one of them snickered at you, his voice dripping with mockery and malice, making you shiver with a mix of disgust and fear. The man's voice was so vile it made you want to vomit, and the way he looked at you made you feel profoundly uncomfortable. You were helpless, bound on the cold, hard ground of the van, as all of these soldiers kept their disgusting, predatory gazes glued on you, watching you squirm in agony and distress on the floor.

The air was thick with the stench of sweat and metal, amplifying your sense of dread and making your situation feel even more hopeless. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as you desperately wished for some form of escape, but there was none. The soldiers' laughter and jeers filled the back of the van, and you felt even more distressed.

"You're a cute mutie, you know that? Most of 'em you can tell are filthy things, but you...you're one of the attractive ones, aren't you?" one soldier spoke. His words were condescending and cruel despite what he said. The tone of his voice carried a sharp edge, filled with disdain and mockery. He looked you up and down with a sneer, observing you with distain and annoyance.

His comrades stood by, chuckling and nodding in agreement, their eyes filled with the same mixture of contempt and amusement. His expression growing more malicious with each passing second, his boot lifted and kicked you slightly. "Are you going to speak, or are you mute, just like a dumb animal?" he asked sharply.

You took a sharp inhale, your chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to steady your nerves. The air felt thick, almost suffocating, as you made a conscious effort to avoid interacting with them at all. The last thing you wanted was to provoke them and risk any form of retaliation.

Your throat was dry, and you could feel your heart pounding in your ears as you swallowed thickly. "N-no..." you managed to let out in a quiet, shaky whisper, barely audible but enough to convey your reluctance and fear.

A sharp sting to your cheek as one of them swung their baton across your face, the impact reverberating through your skull. The blow was so hard it jerked your head to the side with brutal force, and your temple slammed painfully into the cold, unforgiving floor of the van. You could feel the rough texture of the metal against your skin, the scent of dirty leather and iron filled your nostrils, adding to the disorienting pain.

He scoffed, the sound filled with disdain, his eyes holding nothing but cruel amusement and a twisted sense of superiority. "Pathetic freak," he spat, the words dripping with contempt and malice.

The ride was unbearably long and dreary, stretching on for what felt like an eternity. You laid on the cold, hard floor of the van silently, trying to block out the incessant comments and remarks they made about you and your appearance. Their voices dripped with eager malice as they spoke about the brazen and disgusting things they wanted to do to you, each word sending a shiver down your spine and making you want to curl up into a tight ball and hide from the world.

After what seemed like endless hours of discomfort, the van finally slowed to a stop. You were roughly dragged out of it, your legs refusing to cooperate after being forced to lay in such an uncomfortable position for so long. The sun had set the world into a foggy darkness, the only lights illuminating the area were from the large bunker that was build into the wall of a large mountain, guarded with armored vehicles and more men in uniforms.

You struggled to regain your bearings as they pulled you forward, your body aching and your mind reeling from the ordeal. They forcefully walked you inside the huge doors that were drawn open, jerking you around with a roughness that made it hard to keep your composure. Their hands grasped you firmly, their hands groping your body as you struggled against their grip, trying desperately to maintain a calm façade.

Your brave face was beginning to falter, and it became increasingly evident that your terror was rapidly growing. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't hide the fact that fear was taking over, creeping into every corner of your mind.

They walked you to a wall of cells, which stretched endlessly in both directions, each one containing a mutant. Some cells already held mutants who were caged and looked absolutely horrible, as if they had been there for a long time. The conditions of the cells varied greatly; some were sterile and clean, while others were more run-down and dilapidated, as if the guards had no fear that the mutant inside would ever escape.

The air was thick with the smell of decay and neglect. Most of the mutants didn't move or look up; they were either lying down or sitting in a posture of utter defeat. Their eyes were vacant, their spirits broken, and it seemed as though hope had long since abandoned them. The overall atmosphere was one of despair and abandonment, a stark reminder of the cruelty inflicted upon them.

"What is this place?" you asked, attempting to sound firm and confident. However, your voice betrayed you, emerging as meek and afraid instead. The man holding you chuckled in amusement at your fear as he opened the heavy, creaking door to your chosen cell.

"Your new home, mutant. Get comfortable," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. With a rough shove, he threw you onto the cold, hard ground. The impact knocked the wind out of you as you landed with a thud. The man then unsheathed a gleaming blade, its edge catching the dim light.

He began to cut through the coarse ropes that bound your body, each slice of the blade careless. He didn’t care if he nicked you, and he did a few times. You flinched as the blade cut your skin, the sharp jerks and sawing through the ropes stabbed into you as you let out sharp hisses and pained gasps.

The man continued as if he weren't hurting you, and he scoffed with each noise you made. "If you sat still this wouldn't have happened," he grabbed one of your bleeding arms and he held it up.

"What do you want from me?" Your voice whined out, desperate for answers. None of their uniforms gave their organization away, and you had no idea what they wanted with you. The room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows on the walls, which only added to the sense of dread you felt. The man just stood up, shrugging nonchalantly as if this entire situation was a routine matter for him.

"Nothing important. Whatever the boss wants," he replied, his voice dripping with apathy. "We do anything to your kind, and no one will come for you. We won't be charged with any crimes, you aren't people. You're nothing to us, and soon we will exterminate your species and we will be the supreme race on the planet again."

His words cut through the air like a knife, making it hard to breathe. You could see the cold determination in his eyes, a reflection of a deeply ingrained hatred. It was clear that they had been planning this for a long time, and you were just another pawn in their grand scheme. The thought of being part of such a ruthless plan made your stomach churn, but there was nothing you could do but listen and hope for a chance to escape.

The days melded together in an indistinguishable blur, and your concept of time dissipated. Every single day, you were visited by the men, who would unceremoniously drag you into a sterile lab filled with cold, clinical instruments.

There, a man wearing white would subject you to various invasive procedures, poking and prodding you with sharp tools that seemed designed to maximize your agony. They took many things from you—blood, tissue samples, and even bone marrow—leaving you feeling increasingly depleted and always somewhat wounded and weak.

Your time in this nightmarish place was exactly what mutantkind was afraid of, what you were afraid of, filled with relentless suffering, and they showed no sign of compassion or concern for the excruciating pain they inflicted upon you.

You were beaten regularly, just like the rest of the mutants being held captive in the facility. Every day, they came to your cell with their batons, mercilessly laying into you until your skin changed colors from the bruises. They were relentless, you were kicked and hit repeatedly, dragged by your hair across the cold, hard floors, thrown against the walls, and tossed around like a ragdoll.

You were barely fed, only given tasteless slop that had the consistency of old paste and looked anywhere from white to grey mush. This so-called "food" was just enough to keep you from starving, but not enough to ever feel full or satisfied. The meals were infrequent and meager, purposefully designed to keep you in a state of constant hunger and weakness.

They wanted to ensure that your body remained perpetually frail, as if the collar around your neck didn't already make you harmless enough for them. This deliberate deprivation was a method of control, a way to break down your spirit and ensure that you remained too weak to resist or fight back.

You were so tired.

The torment seemed endless. You swore that if they didn't need to take samples from your body nearly every day for their experiments, they would have taken pleasure in killing you outright. The relentless abuse was a constant reminder of your helplessness, and the fact that you couldn't fight back killed you inside.

Collared, drugged, and experimented on like some kind of helpless animal, it seemed like there was no end to the torment. They groped and touched you in ways you didn't want, and it was clear they had no regard for your consent or well-being. The very sight of your discomfort brought them pleasure, and they made sure you knew it every step of the way. Their methods were devised and precise; deeply psychological torment designed to break your spirit and make you feel utterly powerless.

As much as you hated it, it worked.

Their methods proved to be highly effective, gradually wearing you down over time. You could feel yourself slowly succumbing to their demands, submitting to what they wanted from you. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism that your brain instinctively resorted to in order to cope with the relentless torture and abuse. After enduring for such a long period, you found that you had no fight left within you, completely drained of the will to resist.

Red alarms blared loudly, their piercing sound cutting through the silence and yanking you from a rare slumber. Startled, you blinked awake, though your vision was slightly corrupted by the bruises and swollen skin, especially around your dominant eye, which throbbed painfully.

Groggily, your head rose from the cold, hard floor, confusion flooding your mind as you tried to process your surroundings. The distant sounds of fighting drifted to your ears from the direction of your cell, adding to the disorientation and making you wonder what the hell was happening beyond the confines of your small, dimly-lit prison.

You felt your body flinch violently as something large and heavy slammed into the room where the cells were located. The sudden noise echoed through the small, confined space, sending a chill down your spine. Instinctively, you crawled into the nearest corner and curled up there, trying to make yourself as small and inconspicuous as possible.

You had learned from experience that the precious visits from the men were less painful if you were already huddled against the wall, minimizing the areas they could hit with their fists or batons. The cold, hard surface of the wall offered a strange sense of comfort, even as fear and uncertainty gnawed at you.

The the heavy, metallic sound of your cell door creaking open, and instinctively, your entire body tensed up, bracing for yet another brutal attack from the armed men who derived joy from taunting and tormenting you. You prepared yourself for the rough hands and the mocking jeers that usually followed. But this time, instead of the expected harsh touches and cruel laughter, you were met with something entirely different—a voice you hadn't expected to hear again.

"Liebe..." the voice whispered weakly, the word hanging in the air like a fragile thread of hope. Puzzled and intrigued, you slowly pulled your head out from its tucked, defensive position and glanced toward the source of the unexpected whisper. The sight that met your eyes made you freeze.

Kurt stood in shock, his eyes glued to your fragile, timid form curled on the floor. The scene overwhelmed him, causing his breath to hitch in his throat. He slowly knelt down, every movement deliberate as if sudden actions might shatter the fragile peace. His hands, steady yet trembling with restrained emotion, gently set his swords on the floor with a quiet clink that echoed in the silence. "Liebe...y/n..." he rasped quietly, his voice a soft whisper, trying his best to sound calm and composed despite the complete internal storm of rage and anguish brewing within him.

His heart ached with as he reached out, his fingers hovering just above your form, not wanting to startle you further. You stared with uncertainty, your body naturally flinching away, so used to a heavy hand and harsh touches that left you in anguish. For some reason, your brain couldn't differentiate between your lover and the men who had been torturing you.

"I-It's me, Kurt..." he said with a pained strain, his voice cracking as if it hurt to speak, "It's okay...I'm here now." He muttered, his hand gently touching your bruised body, his fingers trembling slightly as if afraid to cause you more pain. You made a quiet whine, a soft sound that conveyed both your relief and your lingering fear. Looking at him and realizing that he had come to you, that he was truly here, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you.

He was here, and you were safe.

The room around you seemed to blur as the significance of his presence settled in, the promise of protection and care easing the tension consuming you. A cry escaped your throat and you fell into him, his arms instantly wrapped around your body, his tail following suit. "Shh, sh...Es ist okay, ich bin jetzt hier." he whispered, trying his best to soothe you while your cheeks dampened with tears.

He held you tightly and let you cry, feeling the tremors of your sobs against his chest. He could hear the terror and desperation in your muffled wails, each one a heartbreaking testament to your pain. Your arms and hands gripped him, but your hold was weak, your strength sapped by the inhumane treatment you endured. You were in dire need of medical attention, evident from your pale complexion and labored breathing. Despite this, he didn't want to let go yet; he wanted to keep you in his arms, so afraid to let go and lose you again.

"You're safe now, liebling," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "Oh... I was so scared... so terribly scared I might not reach you in time." His heart ached with the memory of the fear and helplessness he had felt, and he vowed never to let you out of his sight again.

"Let's go...hold on..." he said, gripping you tightly as his tail moved and wrapped securely around his swords. With a swift motion, he teleported you to the jet. The floor beneath you was hard and unyielding, but the environment around you was far more welcoming and comforting than the cold, harsh cell that had been stained with your own blood.

He leaned back to grab something, his arms unwrapping from your body, but your grip grew stronger on him. "No...no, don't go," you were desperate for him, so terrified of his absence, your mind was in pieces, the aftermath of the torture you went through on full display as you became more and more attached to his presence. Needing him like he were the only thing keeping you from drowning in the thrashing waters that plagued your thoughts.

"I'm not going anywhere, schatz... I am just getting a blanket for you," Kurt soothed reassuringly. His tail, nimble and gentle, reached out to grab the blanket so his arms could remain wrapped securely around you, providing a sense of comfort and stability that you desperately needed. He carefully grabbed the soft blanket and draped it over you, making sure you were warm, and continued to hold you close against his body in a protective embrace.

The presence of the other X-Men in the jet went by unnoticed by you, They started up the jet and began the flight back towards the mansion where you could be properly treated. Right now, your only focus was on Kurt, his presence and touch being the only things grounding you in that moment of anxiety.

As you finally began to give in to the much-needed sleep your body was desperate for, your eyes caught a glimpse of the swords Kurt had carried with him into the facility. Their brilliant, silver shine was now dulled with the stains of crimson, splattered and smeared across the once pristine blades, telling a silent tale of what transpired before he found you. You blinked, trying to focus more on them, but his tail pushed them out of view, obscuring the unsettling sight.

Kurt didn't want you to witness the sheer carnage he had wrought, as he was completely blinded by a bitter and relentless rage that consumed him entirely. In his fury, he slaughtered so many men that he lost count, not even realizing the extent of his actions. All he could think about was wanting you back in his arms, where you would be safe and protected from the horrors that had befallen you. His blades were stained with the hateful blood of those men who had caused you so much harm, and he felt a twisted sense of satisfaction, even though deep down he knew it was wrong.

But he didn't care about the morality of his actions, not now at least. Seeing you so badly hurt had ignited a fire within him, a burning guilt that was only somewhat lifted by the vengeance he exacted. His mind was clouded, but in the chaos, all he wanted was get you home safe where you could be treated. None of the other X-Men dared say a word to him about what happened, by the time they arrived to help Kurt had already went through the men with ease, his blind rage driving him to kill to get to you.

He carefully adjusted his hold, making sure that you could lay your head more comfortably against him. He wanted to ensure that you couldn't see the gleaming blades. His expression was a complex mixture of trouble and deep worry, reflecting the weight of the situation and his concern for your well-being. Leaning closer, he whispered softly, "Rest, liebe... we will get you fixed up soon. Just hold on a little longer..."

You couldn't argue with him now. Your body was in need of rest and you finally felt safe enough to fall asleep. It was such a relief to sleep without worrying about someone coming in and hurting you. You closed your eyes as he held you tight, whispering sweet nothings to you as you slowly allowed your body to fall into a deep slumber. All you knew now was that you had a long recovery ahead of you, and he would be by your side the entire time.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight and @/strangergraphics

Tag List: @southside-otaku

If you want to be part of my tag list, please leave a 💙.

[rosielovesf1]

podiums + pregnancies

someone knows how to make an entrance (she gets it from her mummy)

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none! (my first post oop)

author's note: welcome to my blog!! this is a bit rough, but i figured it's only going to get better with time so here goes. thanks for spending some time on my little corner of the internet!

y/n was not joking when she said her ankles had left the building. she didn’t know when it had happened, but they had completely and utterly given up on her. 

“Baby girl, it’s just rude at this point,” she said quietly to herself. Despite the discomfort, she was unable to stop the beginnings of a smile when she thought about the little human that she’d couldn’t wait to meet. “I thought we had a deal that you wouldn’t do this to me until my maternity leave started.” 

And that leave was so close she could practically taste it (thank God), but brought with it some bittersweet feelings. In her comfortable seat in the McLaren motorhome, watching the race coverage on the television with papaya headphones secured over her ears, she took a second to enjoy the moment. Her whole life she’d been working towards her dream of being a motorsport journalist, and after a couple of wildly successful interviews with the most closed off of drivers, she was catapulted into the glitzy and glamorous world of F1. In the midst of seeing her dreams come true, she hadn’t expected to fall in love- with the curly haired boy who was currently in a comfortable third place. 

The garage started to buzz with excitement as the end of the race drew closer and closer. y/n gasped as Lando’s position was threatened with five laps to go, but he defended skilfully, pulling ahead on the straight and successfully creating more distance between him and the contender. The mechanics roared, and suddenly there was a flurry of motion as they got ready to cheer their driver to the checkered flag. 

“That’s your daddy!” y/n said, unable to contain her excitement. There was an uncomfortable twinge in her gut when she stood to celebrate him crossing the finish line with the rest of the garage, but it was easily ignored in the midst of hugs and cheers with the rest of the team. Pato found her in the crowd (she was hard to miss at 38 weeks pregnant), and squeezed her shoulders in a side hug. 

“No wonder he’s on the podium, with his lucky charms here,” the McLaren reserve driver said, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. y/n's smile grew as she took him in- race weekends were always made better by his presence in the McLaren garage. Pato had been one of her very first motorsport interviews while working in IndyCar, and her nerves had been through the roof when first meeting him. Luckily, they’d clicked instantly, bonding over their shared upbringing in Texas, and her ability to draw out his wonderful personality on camera had been a huge help to advancing her career. “Wanna head over there?” 

“Yes! Definitely. But I’m warning you, it’s going to be slow.” She shook her head and smiled fondly down at her bump. “I’ve seen turtles who walk faster than me.” 

“Oh, come on,” he said, steadying her arm as she stepped down from the raised platform where chairs were placed in the garage. “I think you could at least win a race with a snail.” 

“Mean!” she laughed, swatting his arm away as they followed the horde of people surging towards the podium. “You get pregnant, and then we’ll see how you do.” 

“Yeah, I don't think that's in the cards for me,” he said, bumping her shoulder. There was too much noise to continue their conversation as they neared the podium, and they only had to pause once on their journey as y/n breathed through another twinge. This one seemed a little stronger, but she recovered quickly, and Pato shielded her as people jostled for a spot close to the front. Luckily, the McLaren team recognized her fondly and made a path towards the fence, closing in behind her and Pato so they couldn’t be bumped around. 

“God, this never gets old.” y/n said, taking in the roar of the crowd, the feeling of being one in a sea of many. 

“Here he comes!” Pato yelled over the many voices around them, and an uncontrollable smile broke out across her face as her boy pulled off his helmet and ran towards them.

He slowed down as he neared her, wrapping her in a tight yet cautious hug. 

“Doing okay, baby?” he said into her ear, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek. 

“Are you kidding me? You were amazing out there! I’m so proud of you!” y/n squealed, hugging him as tightly as her belly allowed. Cameras clicked around them as she pulled back to meet his soft lips, smiling into the short kiss. 

“Did it for my girls.” He said, eyes bright as he stared into hers. For a second, it was just them, and she felt a warm rush of gratitude for where life had taken her. Dream career, dream love, and a new dream- a child made from the best parts of both of them, arriving in just a few weeks. 

“Go celebrate with your team,” she mouthed, eyes going glossy. 

He looked conflicted but nodded, gently cupping the sides of her face and planting a kiss on her forehead before stepping away. With a giant whoop, he launched himself into the crowd of waiting McLaren employees, clapping hands with some and hugging others. He shot a wink over at her before walking into the building and the cooldown room, and the crowd grew antsy as they waited for the trophy presentation. 

Now that there was a lapse in the excitement, the twinges y/n felt were becoming harder and harder to ignore. She gripped Pato’s arm to her left as a particularly bad one came on, wincing in pain. 

“y/n?” he asked, voice filled with worry. “Everything okay? Is it too crowded?” 

“Yeah,” she breathed out, the pain subsiding within a few seconds. “I just, I keep feeling this squeezing sensation that I-”

They came to the realization at the same time, and Pato’s eyes seemed to almost be more terrified than hers. “You don’t think?” 

“I uh-, I mean,” Pato looked around frantically. Any hopes of further conversation were blown away as the trophy presentation started, and Lando was announced as the third place driver. He walked out onto the podium, a smile on his face and Pirelli hat on, taking his spot on the third place platform. His happy expression only grew as he scanned the crowd, until his eyes found what y/n assumed was an alarming sight- her practically doubled over, hanging onto Pato’s arm for dear life, and Pato looking like he would rather be thrown out of an F1 car than in this situation. 

Others around them started to take notice, and the female employees in particular rushed to her aid, offering bottles of water. y/n accepted gratefully, and looked up in time to notice that her favorite driver was no longer standing proudly on stage, and all of a sudden he was rushing out to find her at the fence. 

“Go back-” y/n forced out. “Fine. Just need a second.” 

“Baby, no.” He said, finding a way to move the fence so y/n could join him on the other side.  He took charge of supporting her- Pato practically sagged in relief- and ran a hand over her hair. “We have to go. Oh my god, we have to go? Is it time?” 

“No.” y/n said firmly. She could feel all eyes of the crowd on her, and even the announcer on the podium had paused his program to watch the chaos unfolding below. “Your moment! She can wait!”

But as y/n's face crumpled in the wake of another contraction, the decision was made for the both of them by their daughter- she was coming, and she was coming now. His hands shook as he guided her inside, y/n groaning more about making a scene than the pain. Pato called out a feeble “Good luck!” from behind and she sent a weak wave his way. 

A staff member inside the cooldown room had already called an ambulance, and Lando guided y/n into a chair before squatting down to press his forehead against hers. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, rubbing her hands over his shoulders.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for,” he said, taking a deep breath to try to stop his hands from shaking as he intertwined them with hers. The combination of the post-race adrenaline and the imminent arrival of their daughter was doing crazy things to his nervous system. “I can’t believe this is really happening. I’m so sorry you spent the day here when you could’ve been comfortable at home.” 

She shook her head at him, her deep breaths the only sound in the space. “No place I’d rather be.” 

He squeezed her hands at that, kissing both cheeks and leaving the lightest kiss on her nose. 

“She’s really coming, huh?” y/n whispered in disbelief, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“She’s really coming,” Lando laughed, not able to believe his luck.

@y/nnorris: our angel on earth. amelia parker hinata norris. 03/16/2024.

@landonorris: my two favorite girls in the world. ☀️ someone knows how to make an entrance (she gets it from her mummy).  ready for #2 whenever you are @y/nnorris 

[cameronspecial]

You Will Always Be My Business

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Summary: Y/N goes on her first date after her break up with Rafe and he has something to say about it.

A/N: This is inspired by this post.

Masterlist

Rafe and Y/N broke up about two months ago. Y/N couldn’t deal with Rafe’s possessiveness and addiction anymore, so she had to end their relationship for her own sanity. She was surprised by how easily he let her go because she expected more of an argument from him, but after his pleas to not leave him were ignored, he accepted their fate and left. Even with his vices, Y/N was heartbroken by their separation. There was a side to Rafe that only she got to see and it showed her the man he could be if he wanted to. It showered her in love with no limit. 

Now, two months later, Y/N is getting ready for her first date with Aaron. She is nowhere near healed from the breakup; however, she needs to try to move on to help the process. Aaron knows about Rafe and also just got out of a relationship, so they are both on the same page with what this relationship is. She finishes putting her earrings in when the knock comes at her door. She jogs to the door and opens it with a smile. “Hey, Beautiful. Are you ready to go?” Aaron greets. She nods while grabbing her purse, “Yep, lead the way.” 

———

The door to the car shuts with a thud and Y/N thanks Aaron for dropping her off. She jogs to her front door, fumbling with her keys as she places them in the lock. “The date must not have been that great if he isn’t coming inside.” She jumps at the voice coming from her side and turns toward Rafe. The porch sensor finally flicks on, illuminating him clearly. She doesn’t know what to say to him, so he continues. His head flicks toward Aaron’s car, “Might want to tell him you are safe. Don’t want him waiting there all night.” She turns to Aaron and gives him a thumbs-up. When Aaron looks unsure, she nods. The sound of his motor fades as she enters her house with Rafe in tow. “What are you doing here?” she questions, going through the motions of getting comfortable. Rafe drops to a squat to undo the buckles of her heels, “A little birdy told me that you were going on a date. I wanted to check in and see if he treated you like the gentleman you deserve.” 

“We aren’t dating anymore, so how I get treated by other men is none of your business.” 

Rafe stands to his full height, towering over her. His hands drop onto the back of the couch she is leaning against and traps her within his arms. He leans forward so she can feel his breath against her ear, “You will always be my business. My heart is completely and utterly yours and yours is mine. No matter how long we are apart, we will always be each other’s. So if you need time to play the field, then you take it because, in the end, you are going to come back to me.” Her breath hitches when he presses his lips against her cheek. He takes tentative steps back before leaving her alone to question the validity of his statement. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[poksmimi]

PLAYING AND EDGING YOU !

contains♪: sukuna, nanamixafab!reader, big dick, rough sex, unprotected sex, biting, marking, hickies, ass spanking, clit rubbing, vibrator, bad grammar, you have sex in a bar's bathroom !

notes♪: I love sukuna sm, he is such a silly villain <33 ♡⁠˖⁠꒰⁠>༚<⑅⁠꒱

SUKUNA {vibrator, edging, clit rubbing, clit pinching, pussy spank}

You look up at him, biting your lip and he was walking beside you, your heart was pounding and your pussy begins to get wet. The vibrator was making your wet mushy cunt clench around the toy, the vibrator was on the medium level. You let out muffled moans behind your hands, your legs were shaky and he was acting as if nothing was happening at your cunt, his big hand was gripping your leg. Your mouth felt dry when he opens the door to a bar, entering it as rough loud looking men were drunkenly talking. The bartender looks up briefly before looking back down, you gulp and hoped that none could hear the vibrator. You sat down next to Sukuna, his big hand gripping your inner thigh, you let out a whine when his finger touches your clit through your soak panties. He looks at you and smirks. mouthing the word "slut" it made a shiver of pleasure and fear go down your spine as it made you stiffen your back. Nodding your head as the worker took your orders, your hands tremble as he flicks the level to the highness. Your hands grip at your thighs, your eyes go blurry for a second and a feeling of enjoyment and fear course through you, you can smell your sex and the breathes of the drunk men. You can hear loud talking, the sight in front of you is Sukuna, his smirk and the glint in his eyes also him motioning the vibrator remote, all of it makes you more wet.

It takes all the will inside of you to hold back before you jump him and ride his cock as you gulp and close your eyes as you hump the edge of the chair, rubbing your clit at the edge of it. You can feel yourself about to reach the end, you whine when the setting goes low and you hide your face and the sound of footsteps come closer and the worker sets down the drinks before leaving. "Why don't we go the bathroom, beautiful?" He smirks, you nod weakly and follow him, your legs trembling and your pussy is dripping wet, you can feel your juices leaking down your thighs and surely your panties are super damp. You let out a moan and Sukuna lifts you up, placing you on the toilet seat, making the setting to the highest as your eyes roll back. Your nails dig into his muscular arms, you let out a muffled moan when his two digits go into your mouth, you suck on them. He smirks and groans at the sight of you sucking his fingers, his other hand rubs at your clothed clit, his hand brings your panties to the side. Smirking and licking his lips at the sight of your wet and needy cunt. You can feel yourself about to become undone, opening your mouth in a silent plead, he grins and stops his clit rubbing and the toy inside of your needy cunt . "Sluts, don't deserve to come unless their masters so say, got it?" He says, you nod and he pinches your clit before putting the toy back on the highest. "Pl-eaSe!" You cry out, your eyes are watering out tears, you sniff and your legs are trembling. He has been edging you for so long. Your cunt was so dripping wet and it was red and puffy, he licks his lips and leans towards you, holding your small bud between his fingers. "come for 'm, darlin' " You throw your head back as tears stream down your face, eyes rolling back and your back arches, letting out a loud moan, he smirks and spanks your cunt as you come. "I still need to come as well, whore. We aren't done just yet~" His hard dick pokes at your cunt through his pants, he unzips his fly as his big hard dick lays on your cunt, you gulp and you know that this will last for a while.

NANAMI {rough sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, edging}

You smiled as Nanami and his coworkers were talking, you were happy but not-so, your perfect lover wasn't so well rested and very stressed. You had an idea to bring him out for the bar, just you and him! You kissed his cheek before you grab ahold of his muscular arm and you open the door, finding a seat for you and Nanami. He ordered some drinks and food, you payed attention to him, his big, veiny fingers. It made you bite your bottom lip, you wished those fingers were snug in your cunt, fingering your needy pussy, commencing around those fingers you loved so much. "Dear, is something wrong?" He says, you shake your head, you look at his mouth, wishing that his mouth was latched on your cunt, eating you out, flicking his tongue in and out of your cunt. Your hand goes down under the table as it rests on his muscular thigh, your nails softly dig into them, he looks at you and sighs. He looks up at the waiter and smiles briefly before grabbing his drink, taking a sip. "Darlin', you need to try harder than that." He says, you smirk and your hands tremble softly, your panties feel so damp right now, you nibble his ear and he coughs slightly. "I need you need in 'm, please. Nanami, fill me up with your big dick~" you whine and beg, he glares at you. "Fine, come with me, honey." Grabbing your hand as he walks to the bathroom, locking the door and picking you up with his strong arms, you blush and your face darkens, his muscles flexes as he pushes aside your damp panties. "Already, wet for 'm?" He smiles, aiming his hard dick at your pussy, he lowers you down on his cock, you grip at his shoulders to steady yourself. His dick filling your cunt up, his jaw tightens and he begins to fuck your cunt, growing at your mushy tightness pussy, gripping at your hips. You can feel yourself about to reach the climax so soon, you throw your head back, feeling your cunt pulse, you whine and pout at Nanami. "Be patient, my dear, your pleasure will be heighten~" he kisses your jaw and fucks you faster, lowering you down hard and at a fast pace. "fuck, you feel so tight around 'm.." he purrs, his jaw tightening, fucking you even faster, he grabs your hair as he pulls on it, yanking your head back. Attacking your neck with his mouth, sucking and biting on it, marking you for his. His rough finger rubs your clit, making you roll your eyes backwards, your hips following his thrusts and your back arches. Your mouth opens in a silent plead, he rubs it faster as you come, your juices covering his cock as he thrusts more into your wet cunt, stopping his thrusts as his dick punches out his semen, filling your cunt with his sperm and painting your walls white.

[fuctacles]

Remember late bloomers ?

Love popping into my wips and finding finished stuff I should have posted ages ago

Jeff gently informs him that getting running gear for the first date is a bit of an overkill.

“There is so much wrong with that idea. First of all, you hate running. Exercising, in general. And second, this is kinda pathetic.”

Eddie gasps.

“How dare you!”

“Dude, you just officially met today. Why would you waste money on something you might use once and then never again?”

Jeff was, of course, none the wiser that Eddie was about to enter his fit era. He’s going to jog every morning from now on, he’ll get cute matching sets with Miss Stephanie, drink smoothies, and get a gym pass. He’s going to turn his life around, lose the tummy fat he’s been harboring all winter, and turn it into a sixpack. Their fans are going to love it. Stephanie, too. They’ll run off into the sunset—or sunrise—together, they’ll make and raise the healthiest little babies—

“Are you planning your wedding or something?” Jeff interrupts his daydreams with a scoff.

Eddie bristles.

“I’ll be planning your funeral if you don’t start supporting your perpetually single friend,” he bites back.

Jeff raises his eyebrows.

“You sure that’s what you should be saying to the only friend who can lend you some jogging clothes?”

“Uh…”

“Thought so.” And Eddie hates his satisfied smirk but he’s desperate so he bites his tongue. “So, what you really need are good running shoes…”

He feels all kinds of stupid in his sporty get-up. He’s wearing his old Reeboks he wears only when his shitkickers are in repair (he will wear them to his grave), Jeff’s tracksuit pants, and his lucky Ozzy t-shirt. He woke up extra early today and his mug of coffee was almost empty by the point she, Stephanie, rounded the corner.

His mind goes blank when he recognizes his hoodie.

Maybe he hasn't woken up yet. What other explanation was there for this beautiful creature, backlit by the rising sun, to be walking up to him, decked in bright-colored leggings, and tank top and his hoodie, clashing unforgivingly with its blackness?  How else would he get a date with her if it wasn't a dream?

"You're actually dressed for running," she observes. No 'hello', no 'good morning', just her eyes roaming over his body from above. He quickly jumps up from the porch steps.

"Yeah! Lemme just..." He motions to the door with the mug, then quickly gulps down the last mouthful. "Want some water?" he asks, hand on the door. 

Stephanie's eyes snap up to his face.

"Yes."

It's weird, the way she says it, the way her eyes wander over his body. There's no way he's looking that good in borrowed sweats. They have some ugly gym logo on the side too.

"I don't really own gym clothes, but my friend was nice enough to share his," he explains, letting her in. She hums absentmindedly and follows him into the kitchen. He puts the mug in the sink and grabs a glass to fill it with freshly filtered water. When he turns around she's right there, now without the hoodie which she hung over on one of the chairs. Her tits are right there, but he holds her gaze, like a gentleman.

"Thanks." She takes the glass from him and takes a tiny sip, not breaking eye contact. Then puts it aside, on the counter behind him. "What's your stance on making out on the first date?"

Eddie's brain starts screaming.

"Not opposed to it," he answers and is immensely proud of himself for keeping his voice steady.

"Great," she says, almost relieved, as if he could give any other answer than an enthusiastic "ravish me, lady," and gently grabs his face, thumbs rubbing on the stubble along his jaw. She gives him a second to back away before leaning in.

She kisses his lips, just a little peck, a gentle caress. Dives in for another, and one more. Eddie reaches up to run his hands from her elbows up to her shoulders and feels little tremors running through her body. He frowns.

"Steph...?"

She groans instead of answering and her little kisses turn to kitten licks. When he parts his mouth for her, she licks across it, tongue pulling on his upper lip. He yelps in a pleasant surprise.

"I come here with innocent intentions," she says, her voice a bit strained, dipping into lower registers. "And you sit here, with your scrawny little ass in gym sweats." She lets go of his face so her hands can squeeze his waist minutely, before hauling him up onto the counter behind him. He squeaks, less dignified than the sounds he made before, holding onto her. Stephanie presses in and he opens his legs for her without hesitation. "And your dirty old sneakers, ready to jog with me. Eager like a puppy."

Eddie whines at the comparison.

"I'm not," he protests. He's just an adult man confronted with a beautiful woman out of his league.

"You're not?" she asks condescendingly against his ear. She's been rubbing her cheek against his stubble, nosing along the bones like she's the dog, trying to rub her scent all over him. Now she leans back to pout at him. Her lips are plush and pink and they haven't been kissed enough yet. "But I like strays."

Eddie's brain short-circuits.

"Uh... bark?"

She laughs and grips his thighs before capturing his mouth. She dominates the kiss without struggle and Eddie lets her use his mouth to her heart's content. He just wraps his arms around her neck and takes it, moves his tongue where she guides him. He can feel her hands on his thigh itching to touch more, but he doesn't want to part long enough to let her know she can, that she can take whatever she wants.

Eventually, she slides her hands up, thumbs digging into the crease of his thighs, and he mewls. His face immediately goes red at the sound that just left him.

"Well, that's something I'm not gonna un-hear."

Stephanie freezes and moves to pull away, but he traps her with his legs around her waist and presses his face against her shoulder, to hide his shame. Of course this is when Jeff decided to get up and walk into the kitchen.

"Uh, I'm sorry? And, good morning," Stephanie offers, seeing as her actual host won't be of any help. He makes a little wounded sound against her shoulder and she swats his thigh. 

"Good morning," Jeff offers back. "Stephanie, right?"

"Yeah."

"Jeff. I live here too, unfortunately. I was under the impression you were going out for a run, though?" He raises his eyebrows. "Did I lend him my exclusive membership sweats for nothing?"

"They're yours? Can we keep them?" she asks immediately. Eddie presses his nails into her skin not to make a sound at how she said 'we'. "He almost has an ass in them."

"Hey!" It's the first thing he says since Jeff walked in and the first time he moves away from the safety of Stevie-shield. Thankfully, his friend looks mostly amused, not angry or disgusted.

"Please," he makes a face. "I don't want them anymore."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Eddie's eyes narrow, the familiar back and forth giving him enough courage to release Stephanie from the clutch of his legs. She doesn't move far, just enough so the three of them can look at each other and chat comfortably. Well, considering the situation.

"I just saw you dry humping in them and you dare ask me?" Jeff scoffs.

The two culprits start protesting over each other with "We weren't dry humping!" and "We were just kissing?!" but he stops them, raising both his hands.

"I don't care! Just take them and leave the kitchen! I need some caffeine before work and the only bodily fluid I want in it comes from cow tits."

"Ew, dude," Eddie groans, but Stephanie lets out a surprised snort. 

"We're leaving!" she promises, pulling Eddie down from the counter. He scrambles to find balance but she grabs his hand to steady him. Despite them just making out, that's what makes his heart skip a beat. "it was nice to meet you, Jeff!" she offers, waving on her way out of the kitchen.

"Likewise. Good luck on your run!" he calls after them.

"Thanks!" 

Through the windows, he can still see them, Stephanie fixing Eddie's rumpled t-shirt while he's staring up at her with the dumbest expression he's ever seen. And he's seen a lot of them from his friend. 

"Good for him," he mutters to himself with a fond smile. 

[luvh4nji]

𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐗 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 + 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

warning: none really, reader is shorter than yeonjun and soobin, soobin's also refers to reader as a "girl"

yeonjun ; he's absolutely a flirty drunk. he's the type to be all over you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close into his side, leaning down to whisper little compliments in your ear and try to get you to come home with him, not really remembering that you are, in fact, already together and live together.

"you're so gorgeous." he'd mumble in your ear, words slurring a little, the hot breath against the shell of your ear making you giggle and look up at him. "so, so pretty. d'you have a boyfriend?" and you'd just laugh, wrapping an arm around his middle, helping keep him upright, telling him that yes, you do, which makes him so pouty for the rest of the night until you tell him that he's the boyfriend. then he gets so, so clingy, trying to ward off any man in the vicinity that gets near you with what he thinks is an intimidating look until you take him home.

soobin ; he seems like an emotional drunk. he's the type to sit close to you all night, wrapping you up in his big frame and tucking you into his chest, cooing over how cute you are and how he can't believe how lucky he is to have someone so pretty with him. and as the night goes on it only gets better worse; he's moved on to telling you how much he loves you, how much you help him when he feels bad and things get rough, how happy he is to have someone who he can take care of and who takes care of him.

"you're it for me, sweetheart, i'm so serious." he'd mumble, his words muffled from where his lips are pressed on the crown of your head. "i don't know what i'd do without you, you're my baby, my sweet girl." and he just keeps rambling and kissing on you until he's close to passing out and you take him home.

beomgyu ; he seems like the type to get quiet. not necessarily emotional, just quiet. he's the type to sit off to the side and observe, especially if you were in public, like at a bar. his cheeks are all rosy and his gaze a little dazed, and he gets so happy when you come over to sit with him, throwing you a bright smile that reaches his eyes. he's definitely the type to want to go home early too, grabbing your hand a dragging you out of the bar.

"it was too loud in there." he pouts, his grip on your hand tightening as he motions in the direction of your apartment. "jus' want it to be the two of us. no one else." and he's pulling you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, while you wrap an arm around his middle, trying to convince him to let you order an uber before he pulls you down the street.

taehyun ; honestly, he doesn't seem like the type to drink that much. he gets tipsy, at most, before he stops drinking for the night. he'd look after you when you drink, keeping a close eye on you throughout the night. and even when he does end up drinking a lot, he seems like the type to be able to handle his alcohol well. the only indication you'd get of him being drunk would be the flush on his cheeks.

"...and then my boss hands me the file back... after i'd spilled coffee on it and told him it was a new filing process for... for our documents... and told me he — he liked my idea." you tell him, finishing your story through hiccups and slurred words. and taehyun's just watching you with this lovestruck look on his face, giving you his full attention, with the softest, fondest look you've ever seen on him. "sounds like you got your work cut out for you, baby." he'd reply, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his touch soft and tender <3

hueningkai ; he gets so loud. especially if it was just you and him at your place. he's the type to pull you into his side, laughing loudly at whatever's in front of him, or whatever thought passes his mind. and when he turns to look at you, he gets this look in his eye, before tacking you to the ground, asking you to wrestle him just for the fun of it.

"c'mon, you gotta get stronger." he'd joke, his fingers finding your sides and digging in, laughing along with you in that loud way he does as you half-heartedly try to push him off of you. and he looks so cute, so happy with his reddened cheeks and hazy eyes, you can't help but lean up and press a kiss to his plush lips, smiling with him when he starts giggling.

[flemingsfreckles]

Physio’s Daughter Part 13 (epilogue)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

The whole series is here!

Warnings: none

WC: 2.5k

A/N: I’m not even sure what to put here, thank you to everyone who read this. I never expected people to like it as much as you all did and I never expected myself to be writing 13 parts but here we are. I appreciate every single person who’s left a like or reblogged or commented or send me asks about this series, I wouldn’t have ever had the motivation or ideas to write this series. Thank you 🥹

I’ve thought about writing some little blurbs/headcannons type things if you guys wanted to hear the details of how I thought the middle 20+ years that this went through would go. If that’s something yall want just feel free to send requests and I’ll write them. (I’m not quite ready to let go of this series of you couldn’t tell)

“You ready for this?” You squeezed Jessie hand tightly, trying to reassure her and give her peace of mind.

“As ready as I think I can be.”

That’s when you hear the announcement.

“And for her final time representing and leading Canada, please welcome Jessie Fleming.”

Jessie looks over at you one more time. You give her a nod and a tight squeeze on her hand before letting her go and she walks out onto the field. The cheering for her is deafening and you hear it for a moment before it all is drowned out by your ears ringing as your brain goes fuzzy at the realization that you’re watching your wife walk onto the field for the last time ever.

You watch as she walks out, looking around and making her way to the middle where a ceremonial framed jersey was waiting for her. You had both cried enough tears over her retirement decision, you had pinky promised that today was going to be a celebration, no tears.

“Mommy!” You feel the tug on your arm and look down to see your and Jessie's four year old daughter tugging on your hand while her other arm waved wildly toward the field. “Can we go with Mama?”

“Just a second baby.” You look down at your daughter, she’s just excited to see her Mama play, she hasn’t quite been able to grasp the idea of Jessie’s retirement. You knew she’d probably be asking when she can go watch her play again in just a few days.

You look back out to watch as Jessie makes her way down the line being hugged by all of her teammates before she gets to where the jersey was. You watch her look at it, then take a second to look around the field, taking in every second. She then takes photos with the coaching staff before she motions to you.

“Go run to Mama.” You let go of your daughter's hand and she runs ahead of you to Jessie. Jessie squats, grabbing your daughter under her arms and lifting her up around her hip. You make your way out onto the field before standing next to Jessie to take a few photos.

You give Jessie a quick peck to the cheek before taking back your daughter and walking off to the side of the pitch. You stand for a minute watching Jessie continue to absorb the moment around her.

“Look at this!” Olivia comes rushing up next to you holding out her camera for you to look at. It’s a photo of your wife from the side, she’s got a big smile on her face and is squatting down, arms stretched out toward your daughter who is also smiling big, running toward Jessie. “You two seriously have the cutest kid.”

“Soon to be cutest kids.” You whisper to her putting emphasis on the ‘s’. Olivia turns to you, mouth wide before looking down at your stomach.

“Are you?”

Her face lights up as you give her a nod, “We just found out a few weeks ago.”

“Oh my gosh! Congratulations!” Olivia pulls you into a hug. She then passes you a piece of paper with a note before giving you a wink. Her eyes get really wide for a second and she says “don’t drink the champagne,” before heading back to take more photos of the pregame ceremonies.

You make your way up to the reserved box, all of Jessie’s family attending the game as well as many of her former teammates. Your daughter was quick to run to her grandparents, excited to see them.

“Not working today?” Janine says coming up beside you. She hands you a drink and you give her a look questioning what was in the cup. “It’s just cranberry juice. Congratulations by the way, Jessie told me so we could make sure we have non-alcoholic stuff at the retirement party.”

“Thank you and yeah, I took the day off, thankfully Canada Soccer understood the importance of attending my own wife’s retirement game.” You had finished up school nearly 14 years ago, getting hired back immediately by Canada Soccer. That’s when you and Jessie had to be upfront with your relationship, disclosing it to HR and management before you signed the contract. Your relationship meant you were no longer able to handle Jessie’s treatments yourself but you were able to keep your job and still work closely with her.

The two of you had been dating for just over a year at that point, the first few months of long distance were hard, having to figure out communication expectations along with both of you juggling busy schedules. But you put in the work and effort and managed to figure it out together. You visited Jessie when you could and she’d visit you, FaceTime was your saving grace being able to see her face most days. You did silly little dates where you’d read together on FaceTime, not speaking but still as if she was in the room with you. You’d cook the same meal and eat together, you watch TV series together, she’d help quiz you for exams, the two of you made it work.

When you first told your Mom you were still talking with Jessie she didn’t think much of it, to be fair you didn’t give her the impression the two of you were together. You had planned on it, but chickened out and made it seem like a friendship. It wasn’t until almost six months into dating that you finally told your Mom. You and Jessie had talked about spending the holidays together, back in your hometown with your Mom. When you asked if your girlfriend could spend a couple days, your Mom was confused, never having met or heard a mention of a girlfriend on your end. She insisted she meet the girl first, to which you had to explain she had met the girl, she actually worked with her. Your Mom was able to put together the hints and realize you and Jessie were dating. She still scolded you just as she had when she caught the two of you kissing. Worried about the age difference, worried you’d never find a job if people knew, worried about the traveling and long distance, she went on and on for a while. But with some extra begging, she agreed to let Jessie come for the holidays and you formally introduced her as your girlfriend. Your Mom was quick to come around on your relationship once she saw how you and Jessie interacted, how happy she made you, it only took a couple hours before your Mom was getting out the scrapbooks to show Jessie embarrassing baby photos of you.

You started as a trainer with the Canadian team just after graduation, in a similar role as you had been for the team that one summer. You stayed in that position for a while before your Mom retired. Your Mom had previously taken over for Mark when he retired and you were given the promotion to that same position as the head of staff. This meant less hands on work and more administrative business, while a little less fun for you, it meant you could work from home whenever you needed to or just wanted to. You’d come in when the team was in or when you needed access to the facilities but when the girls returned to their club teams, you’d often follow Jessie to Portland and the two of you would live there.

Within the past few years you had been offered the opportunity to create a new position to oversee the physio and training staff as well as working with the player performance team. You loved your new position, you worked with the coaches, the nutritionists, the team doctors, the players themselves, all to work on creating training plans that made your players better while keeping them healthy and safe. You were going to continue to work after Jessie’s retirement despite how much she tries to convince you that you could both retire now, you loved your job too much to leave it quite yet.

It was five years into your relationship when you finally proposed. You had known for a long time that you were going to marry Jessie, but the two of you weren’t in any rush, the commitment to each other was always the same, married or not. You had taken her on a picnic to a wildflower field you found. Picnics became a staple date in your and Jessie’s relationship ever since your first one. You had waited for her to look away, to get distracted by a flower and you quickly scrambled to get on one knee, ring box open and facing her. She of course said yes once she recovered from the initial surprise and the two of you got married a year later. You had a small ceremony, only a couple people in attendance, keeping it easy. You instead hosted a large reception, with Jessie’s teammates, your coworkers, both of your friend and family, you couldn’t have asked for a more perfect start to your married life.

It was just a year into your marriage when the idea of having a baby started to float around more and more in both of your minds. You had talked about kids while you were dating but it was all talk, you both not quite ready to settle down with a child yet. But after seeing Jessie with her teammates kids weekend after weekend at Portland you couldn’t help but long for that to be your kid in her arms. So one day you simply asked Jessie. You asked if she’d be interested in getting a consultation together to see what your options were as far as having a kid. She agreed happily and you two found yourselves quickly in the seats of a fertility clinic, getting started with the IVF process. It took a couple rounds before you got the positive test and nine months later the two of you had a healthy baby girl.

The sleepless nights and traveling with a baby was not easy. It was especially hard when Jessie would be away from club games and you were left to parent alone. Thankfully your friends and family were always there to help out, knowing how crazy Jessie’s travel can be. All the chaos and exhaustion was worth it everytime you got to watch your daughter totter around wearing your wife’s jersey, just as you got to see today as she ran to Jessie for her final game.

Jessie’s decision to retire hadn’t been easy but you both knew it was time and she was settled with her decision. So now you stood watching the last few minutes of her career play out in front of you. You had been ushered back down to the field sideline by security so you could greet your wife and as the final whistle blew you watched as Jessie moved to the center of the field before sitting down. Her hands move to her boots and she slowly unties them before sliding them off her feet and you can practically see her heart break. She’s taking deep breaths the way her shoulders and chest are rising, most likely trying to keep her emotions at bay. Her teammates and the opposing team’s players made their way to her congratulating her, giving her their praises. You walked to her, your daughter in your arms. She stood up to greet you and you could see the tears in her eyes, quickly causing your own to well up.

“I’m so proud of you.” You whispered to her as she pulled you into an incredibly tight hug. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

“You okay?” You say when you pull back from her, you let your forehead rest on hers, not caring about the sticky feeling of her sweat.

“Yeah, it’s just weird, that was it after 24 years on this team. I’ll never do that again.” She seems to be in a state of shock, not quite believing that she would never play for Canada again.

“I know.” You rub her back gently as your daughter blabs on about a bird that’s flying overhead.

Jessie is quickly swept away for interview after interview. You and your daughter make your way around the pitch talking with Jessie’s teammates to kill time before everyone heads back into the locker rooms and the stadium crowd clears out.

You find Jessie’s parents, who graciously offered to watch their granddaughter for the night so you and Jessie could have the evening to yourself. They knew their daughter would likely need an evening of relaxation and reflection after the long day of celebration which might not be possible if she was being asked to build legos or color or play dress up.

“Hey, she’s the last one in there, I’m not sure how long she’ll be. She’s just standing there, you might want to go in and check on her.” Jordyn says as she and Julia exit the locker room and see you waiting for Jessie.

“Thank you.” You take Jordyn’s suggestion and enter the locker room. There’s Jessie, she’s changed, wearing sweatpants and a shirt, standing in front of her cubby staring at the name plate above it with her name, number, and a large C on it. You come up and hug her from behind, not saying much, just being with her. It’s quiet but finally Jessie grabs the name plate, sliding it off the cubby and puts it in her bag.

“Alright let’s go, I don’t want to keep people waiting at the party.” Jessie says. Janine and Sinc had organized a small retirement party for later that night, you and Jessie had both put heavy emphasis on it being a small party, thankfully you still had a couple of hours.

“There’s something I wanted to do first, if you’re up for it. The party isn’t for a couple hours. We have time.” Jessie nods. Youre happy that she’s agreeing and that she trusts you aren’t going to make her do something crazy after playing her last ever game. You take her hand pulling her from the dressing room, down the hall, and back in the direction of the pitch. You walk with her until you come to the middle of the pitch. “Sit.” You point to the grass before taking off running to one tunnel, the one Olivia had written on her note and grabbing the basket she had left for the two of you. You make your way back to Jessie and open the basket pulling out a bottle of champagne and a single glass.

“Olivia didn’t know I was pregnant when she set this up, I told her today though. She got a really cute photo of you and Emery.” You say to Jessie before pouring her a glass and getting out some of the snacks she had packed.

Jessie laughs to herself. “Remember when I thought the two of you were together.”

“I still can’t believe you thought that.” You shake your head thinking back to the screaming match you and Jessie had in the hotel, all because both of you were silly, immature, young adults who didn’t know how to talk to each other about your feelings. “You were so jealous.”

“Was not!”

“You so were.”

“Fine I was, but it turned out pretty great for me.” She crosses her arms across her chest pretending to be mad.

“Yeah, we turned out alright.”

The two of you fall into a silence, you wait for Jessie to speak. You want to let Jessie have the time to think through all of her thoughts, feel all of her emotions, take her time sitting on the field.

“I love you.”

“I love you Jessie.” You respond as she plops her head onto your shoulder.

“This is just like our first date, when you brought me to the field in Paris.”

“I know. And I knew how much you appreciated that. So I just wanted to make sure you were able to soak it all in for one last time.”

[theminecraftbee]

“So do you think he gets the irony that it’s sand?” Scar asks, staring up at the towering hourglass above them.

“Really? You’re gonna be the one to call that out?” Tango responds, bemused.

Scar has to crane his neck to see the top of the hourglass to an uncomfortable degree; he really can’t lean that much further back in his wheelchair without causing problems. He can already feel the ache in his spine. It just seems appropriate to stare up at the thing itself if he’s going to be pointing out irony and literary devices about it.

“Now, listen. I’ve thought a whole lot about sand, Tango! And about how much money Doc’s about to make me as the only exchange in town for the much easier to collect diamonds. I enjoy shoveling, Tango! When it’s too hard to think or move or talk, I can go out there with my power shovel and just dig and dig and dig. I’ve cleared deserts practically on my own. It’s meditative. No, no exchange rate is going to beat me, and I can set it to whatever I want.”

Scar finally looks down again, resisting the urge to rub his neck. He grins at Tango, the sharp and wild smile he’s practiced so long. Tango is making a face.

“Geez. Okay man. I thought the dramatic villain speeches were for Doc. Also? None of that was irony.”

“Right, right, sorry, I’m rambling,” Scar says. “The thing is, I’ve thought a lot about hourglasses, about sand, and the thing Tango is that sand is effe—effermil—oh, shoot, I know this—effeminate?”

Tango wheezes. “I can’t believe I thought you were going somewhere with that. Sand is effeminate?”

“No, no, no, I mean, sand isn’t permanent. It goes away. You don’t get to keep it. Poof! It’s gone,” Scar says grumpily. “See, that would have been cool if you’d let me finish.”

Tango looks up at the hourglass himself and shrugs. “Looks like he’s planning on making it permanent pretty well.”

“Yeah, but look—if he’s trying to invoke the sands of time, that’s even more effeminate than regular sand! Before he knows it… poof. Slips right between your fingers! Impossible to hold onto! Can’t trust sand! I of all people would know. That’s why I’m selling it!” Scar makes a hand motion. He grins at Tango. Tango grimaces.

“You know, you might have some issues to work through, man.”

“I mean, sure, but…” Scar gestures at the hourglass. “You know, they say if your build stays bigger than the others for more than a few hours, you should really call your—”

“Okay,” Tango says. “I’m gonna cut you off right there buddy.”

“You never let me finish,” Scar says.

“And that’s officially worse,” Tango says.

“But I definitely lasted longer than mister pay in sand—”

“Devs, if you’re merciful, let a creeper explode right now,” Tango says. “If your sands of time are so impermanent, why am I trapped in this conversation?”

“My charming good looks,” Scar says. “Anyway, do you want to prank that thing or what?”

“Literally everyone wants to prank that thing. Nothing has ever screamed ‘prank me’ as much as that stupid hourglass has. I’m in. Tell me the plan,” Tango says, and Scar hums and makes his pitch. He hears the echoes of drops of sand on glass and sand on stone and sand on sand behind him, and thinks to himself: it’s an awfully good thing that it’s a good day to make new mistakes, or this would all have ended rather differently.

The universe gave him a sand monopoly, after all.

And Scar, well, he knows a few things about trying to hold onto sand.

[pucksandpower]

That Pretty Head of Yours

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: sometimes your thoughts get too loud for your own good but Max knows exactly how to quiet them

Warnings: depictions of anxiety

The hotel room is quiet except for the low hum of the heater. You sit curled up on the couch, knees tucked to your chest, staring blankly at the muted TV. Max is in the bedroom, unpacking his things after the race today.

You should be helping him, but you just can’t seem to move from this spot.

Your mind feels cluttered, thoughts racing with no direction. A heavy anxiousness sits in your chest, making it hard to breathe. You try to focus on the colors flashing across the silent screen, but nothing can hold your attention for more than a few seconds.

You’re spiraling, caught up in your head with no escape. The emptiness inside you threatens to swallow you whole. You press your forehead against your knees, wrapping your arms tighter around your legs.

“Schatje? Are you okay?” Max’s voice cuts through your mental fog. He comes over and crouches down in front of you, grey eyes filled with concern.

You give a half-hearted shrug, not meeting his gaze. “Just … thinking too much, I guess.”

Max frowns, cupping your cheek with one hand. His touch is warm, comforting. You lean into it despite yourself.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hmm?” He asks gently. His thumb strokes over your skin.

You sigh, closing your eyes. “I don’t know. My thoughts are all over the place. I just feel … empty. Anxious." You hate admitting weakness, but Max has always seen right through you.

He makes a sympathetic noise, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "I think I know what you need.”

Before you can ask what he means, Max moves to sit on the couch. He tugs you into his lap so you’re straddling his legs, pressed close against his solid frame. One hand cradles the back of your head while the other splays across your lower back, holding you firm.

You relax into him instinctively, comforted by his nearness. He’s so warm, so real. Already the knot in your chest starts to loosen.

“There we go,” Max murmurs. "Just focus on me, liefje. I’ve got you."

He guides your head to rest in the crook of his neck. You breathe him in, surrounded completely by his scent and touch. The rest of the world falls away until there is only Max, anchoring you here with him.

His hand strokes up and down your back slowly. “Talk to me.”

You exhale shakily. “I just … everything feels kind of pointless right now. Like I’m drifting without purpose. And I can’t turn my brain off, it just goes in circles thinking the same useless thoughts over and over.”

Max makes a sympathetic noise, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I know, I know. Your mind can be cruel like that sometimes. But I promise you, none of those thoughts are true. You are so loved, Y/N. So incredibly loved.”

His words make your eyes prickle with tears. You cling to him tighter, overwhelmed.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothes. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m right here.”

Max begins to rock you gently, one hand coming up to stroke your hair. The tender motion unravels you completely. A sob hitches in your throat as you finally let go, crying quietly into his shoulder.

He doesn’t shush you or tell you to stop. He simply holds you close as you let it out, fingertips massaging your scalp.

When the tears finally subside, you feel wrung out … but also lighter. The weight has lifted from your chest. You nuzzle against Max’s neck, breathing him in.

“There’s my girl,” he says softly. “Feel a little better?”

You nod, wiping your eyes as you sit back to look at him. "Yeah. Thank you."

Max cups your face in both hands, gazing at you intently. “You never have to thank me for taking care of you. I’ll always be here when you need me. I love you.”

Your heart swells, warmth flooding your entire body. No matter how many times he says those words, they never fail to make you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

Max gives you that crooked smile that makes your knees weak. He leans in, catching your lips in a tender kiss. You sigh against his mouth, hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders.

The kiss remains unhurried, full of comfort and care. When Max finally pulls back, he brushes his nose against yours.

“Now then, I think some cuddles are in order,” he says, patting your thigh. “Go get comfy in bed. I’ll join you in a minute.”

You can’t help but smile as you climb off his lap. Max always knows exactly what you need, even when you don’t. The promise of being wrapped up in his arms, warm and safe, already has the last of your anxiety fading away.

You change into one of Max’s oversized t-shirts, then slide under the covers on your usual side of the bed. The silky sheets and plush mattress cradle you invitingly. You snuggle down with a contented sigh, letting your heavy eyelids drift shut.

The mattress dips as Max gets in behind you. His solid chest presses up against your back, one arm draping over your waist. He nuzzles the back of your neck, breath tickling your skin.

“Comfortable?” He asks.

You lace your fingers with his, bringing his hand to your lips for a soft kiss. “Very.”

Max hums in satisfaction, holding you a little tighter. The steady rise and fall of his chest lulls you into a tranquil headspace. Here in his arms, nothing can touch you.

For a while you just lay together, soaking up each other’s warmth. Max presses lazy kisses along your shoulder, up your neck, behind your ear. Each one sends a pleasant tingle through you.

“Talk to me some more?” He says after a bit. "Tell me what you need right now, liefje."

You consider for a moment, absently stroking your thumb over his knuckles. “Just … remind me that I’m yours. That you’ll keep me safe.” Your voice comes out small, timid.

Max makes a soothing noise, nuzzling into your hair. “Of course, sweet girl. You’re mine. Only mine. And I will always, always keep you safe.” His hold on you tightens protectively. “No one will ever hurt you as long as I’m here. You’re so precious to me, so loved. My perfect girl.”

You can’t help the little whimper that escapes you, his words settling like a balm over your frayed nerves. Max continues whispering sweet nothings as you melt further into him, tension bleeding out of your muscles.

Here, cocooned in his warmth with his voice surrounding you, the last dark tendrils of anxiety stand no chance. There is only Max, your harbor in the storm.

You drift in a state of blissful tranquility, floating somewhere between sleep and waking. At some point Max begins humming softly, the vibrations rumbling through his chest. Combined with the fingers combing lazily through your hair, it lulls you into a deeply relaxed state.

“That’s my good girl,” Max praises. “Just rest now, I’ve got you.”

You succumb willingly, sinking into the welcoming arms of sleep with a contented sigh. The last thing you feel is Max’s lips pressing one more tender kiss to your temple.

“Sweet dreams, my love.”

[eth-edwards-73]

Comfort

Kenan Yildiz x reader warnings: none, sad Kenan

Your heart dropped when you saw Kenan pull his shirt over his head. You knew he’d take this hard because he was so optimistic before and this just crushed his dreams. Your work wouldn’t let you fly in for the games so you had to watch them from home and now you had to wait for him to come home before you could comfort him.

The second he got off the plane, you embraced him, just holding him tightly, trying to offer as much comfort as you could. The ride home was silent but not an awkward silence which was nice. You gently rubbed the pad of your thumb over his hand as you drove. 

“Warum hassen sie mich?” (Why do they hate me?) He quietly muttered once the both of you were laying down on the bed, his arms wrapped around you as he clinged onto you, you didn’t mind, you wanted him to be comfortable. Your face fell and softened at his question and you brought your hand up to his cheek, softly stroking his skin. 

“Sie wollen nur, dass jemand die Schuld gibt. Sie sind enttäuscht und müssen es an jemandem auslassen. Es ist nicht richtig, dass sie es an dir auslassen, es war nicht deine Schuld.” (They just want someone to blame. They're disappointed and need to take it out on someone. It isn't right that they're taking it out on you though, it wasn't your fault.) You quietly tell him as you press a soft kiss to his temple. He buries his head into your neck and you feel soft sobs rack through his body. Your heart clenches as he sobs into your neck and you gently run your hand through his hair, making soothing motions on his back with the other. 

“Lass es raus, Süße, es ist okay.” (Just let it out, sweetheart, it's okay.) You mutter as you hold him, trying your best to comfort him even though you don’t really know how because you haven’t gone through something similar. You’re trying your best and you know that he tried his best too but sometimes trying your best isn’t enough because the others are just better and that’s fine too, that’s the way life goes, some people just aren’t mature enough to realize it. 

It doesn’t take long for Kenan to fall asleep in your arms and you follow soon after. 

You wake up before Kenan and take the time to admire his face, he looks so peaceful and relaxed as he sleeps. You gently trace his features, you had truly missed him while he was away for the European Championship and although you wished he had gotten further, you were glad that he was back home with you. 

He stirs a little before opening his eyes, he’s still a little groggy from his sleep and he grumbles something incoherent before dropping his head back onto your chest, making you giggle. 

“Wir sollten aufstehen, Kenan, es ist schon 11 Uhr.” (We should get up, Kenan, it's already 11 o'clock.) You tell him softly as you try to sit up a little, he protests and pulls you back down, which makes you laugh. 

“Kenan, bitte.” (Kenan, please) You laugh as you try to sit up again and this time he just sighs and looks up at you with puppy eyes. 

“Okay, wir können aufstehen.” (Alright, we can get up.) He grumbles when he realizes you’re not backing down. He rolls off you and sighs while rubbing his eyes. You get up already and walk to the kitchen to make breakfast, giving Kenan a little more time to get up. 

He walks up behind you after a few minutes and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder and pressing a few soft kisses on your neck. You lean into his touch as you continue making the pancakes, carefully flipping them. 

“Ich weiß nicht, was ich getan habe, um dich zu verdienen.” (I don’t know what I did to deserve you.) He mutters into your ear, you smile and shrug a little. 

“Das frage ich mich auch, Hübscher.” (I ask myself the same question, pretty boy.) You reply before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and putting the pancakes on two plates, one for you and one for him. 

There’s a comfortable silence between the both of you as you eat at the dining table until he breaks the silence. 

“Wie soll ich mit dem Hass umgehen, den ich bekomme?” (How should I deal with the hate I'm getting?) He asks you, looking very unsure and vulnerable and you take his hand over the table. 

“Ich denke, es wäre am besten, wenn Sie die Kommentare zu Ihren letzten Posts in den sozialen Medien deaktivieren oder zumindest einschränken.” (I think it'd be best if you turn off the comments on your recents posts on social media, or at least limit them.) You tell him and he nods, it’s a good idea and it might help at least a little bit. 

“Ich bin so froh, dich kennengelernt zu haben, ich weiß nicht, was ich ohne dich tun würde.” (I'm so glad I met you, I don't know what I'd do without you.) He tells you with a relieved sigh and your gaze softens, a loving smile growing on your face.

“Ich liebe dich, Kenan, bis zum Mond und zurück, vielleicht sogar noch mehr.” (I love you, Kenan, to the moon and back, maybe even more.) You tell him, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. 

“Zum Mond und zurück.” (To the moon and back.) He whispers with a soft smile.

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

I'm not entirely sure of what i think about this but meh, it's okay and i wanted to bring out some comfort fluff because seeing how sad he was and all the hate he's getting hurts so yeah

please send requests :)