#not the dark circles under it 🥹

[noxtivagus]

TODAY WAS FUN 🫶🏼

[saetoru]

Tee 🥹 so RB Gojo always shows up to YNs house unexpectedly or wants her to come over. What if one day out of the blue, like 2 am she shows up at his house in tears due to stress. And for once he can be the caretaker and dependable one. And then she falls asleep in his arms arms and he gets to be the big spoon for once. I could see her whispering “you’re it for me too” while thinking he’s asleep.- dabitee anon

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。BEFORE & AFTER — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)

contents. college au, rich boy! gojo, stressed reader :(, comfort, cheesy banter lol i tried ok, slightly based off of this drabble

notes. dabitee anon. babie u are my biggest rb! gojo inspo u always think of the sweetest lil moments between them sobsss i adore you sm

sometimes, gojo forgets you're not always put together. sometimes, you struggle to get assignments finished, and sometimes you don't wake up for work on the first alarm, and sometimes studying is too much to handle no matter how determined you are for an A.

"thinking about me this late, sweetheart?" he grins as soon as he picks up your call, laying back on one arm as he stares at the ceiling. he doesn't expect to see you call at two am, but you do—and when he hears the short, wet sniffle through the phone, he doesn't waste a moment to sit up. "sweetheart? you good?"

"toru can you let me in?" you ask quietly. gojo feels every crack in your voice pierce into his chest—it's rare for you to need him like this. he thinks he's always needed you more than you've needed him, truthfully. you've always opened doors after he's stormed out on his father, you've always laced your fingers after arguments with suguru, and you've always rubbed his back when he's hunched over toilets after one too many drinks.

when was the last time you've let yourself need gojo? he doesn't have the time to even try and remember, his feet carrying him over to open his front door quietly. and it's you—you with teary eyes and puffy cheeks, you with tired dark circles and wobbly lips. it's you, but it's not the you he knows, the one he's used to.

the one good thing about gojo satoru is he always knows how to talk—he speaks enough for two, knows how to fill the silence when you can't bring yourself to speak. his arms tug you into his chest before you can open your mouth to explain.

"did you drive all the way here with those watery eyes?" he hums, "wanted to see me that bad? it's dangerous driving like that, baby."

"didn't wanna be alone," you mumble, sniffling into his chest. his hands are big—they're good for rubbing slow circles into your back, the warmth of his palm seeping in through your shirt and pressing against your skin.

"i'd have come if you texted me," he hums, "'m always up, anyway. you know i was beating suguru's ass in mortal combat? he owes me a burger."

"you can afford one yourself, idiot," you huff, making him chuckle. something about the low rumble of his chest against your cheek makes the tears flow a little faster—not because you feel worse, but because it's safe enough that you can.

sometimes, you forget gojo isn't that spoiled and whiny handful you love to call him. sometimes, you're reminded that he's used to being alone, that carrying emotions enough for two is his forte. your cheek presses harder against his chest, like you could bury yourself inside of him like that, like hiding away in his ribcage is where you're safest from the rest of the world. maybe it is—maybe all you need is him to make it safe.

"who's got my baby crying the night before an 8 am class?" he asks softly, “i’ll punch ‘em.”

“what if i say you, will you punch yourself?”

“for you, always,” he nods seriously.

he knows how to ask these things like that: like it's not heavy, like you can make a light-hearted joke or two so that you're not drowning in your own vulnerability. sometimes, you forget that gojo is no stranger to hiding his own vulnerability, that he knows how to hide it under a playful grin and a cheeky laugh.

"that group assignment's due soon and no one's done anything yet but me, and i had to pick up an extra shift to cover for someone, and that quiz coming up is apparently super hard, and my electricity bill was high this month and i don't know why, and....and—"

"okay," he hums, "the electricity might've been me," he says with a quiet chuckle, "i always forget to turn the lights off. I'll handle it, yeah?"

"but—"

"it's not paying for you," he cuts you off, "it's paying you back. there's a difference. now c'mon. i make good hot chocolate."

"it's out of a packet," you sniffle, lips curled into a pout as his thumb swipes away at your tears. he traces the swell of your cheek before pinching it lightly, making you huff.

"hey," he gasps, "it's special because i put extra chocolate in it! it's my secret ingredient."

"it's not a secret if it's the main ingredient, toru," you mumble, letting his fingers thread with yours as he tugs you along to follow him.

"do you just live to correct me?" he whines, "can't i have one thing?"

and when he hears that soft, breathy little giggle from you, he smiles to himself, the ache of his chest calming just a little. you think gojo could always do that if he tried—pull a small laugh or two out of you even if the world was crumbling around you, keep your lips curved up even as everything goes wrong.

he's enough to forget about that damn project, and that extra shift, and that absurd quiz, and that distressing bill. maybe it's in the way he makes the whipped cream look like a crooked heart in your mug, or the way he burns his tongue as he takes a sip too fast, or the way he swings your arm as he drags you to his room, or the way he wriggles his brows at you as he takes his shirt off before bed, or the way he presses that delicate, sweet, careful little kiss to your forehead as you lay on his chest.

because he has to be enough, he thinks as he holds you, he has to be good enough for you that he outweighs every bad thing you'll ever deal with. he wonders if you know you're it for him, if you know that no one else could fill the spot you've wormed your way into unknowingly. he realizes it that night you hold him, the same night you didn't scold him for ruining your sleep, the same night he finds his way to you when it feels like every road is blocked.

and when the roads are blocked you find your way to him too. so he lays quietly under your cheek, feeling your fingers trace those slow hearts into his skin as he hears you murmur, "i think you're it for me too, toru."

his brows furrow—and then he realizes you must have heard him that night, just like he's hearing you now. a small part of him wants to laugh at the odds, at the way you both can't bring yourselves to say it when you're sure you'll hear each other. the other part of him thinks maybe you were always supposed to find each other, that you were always meant to stay awake and hear hushed words that are supposed to be secrets.

but then you tilt your head up, meeting his eyes, like you know he's awake. oh, he realizes, you've always known, haven't you?

"oh yeah?" he asks, "what if someone cuter and funnier comes along?"

you giggle—not one trace of stress or fear or defeat on your features, not with him there. "i met suguru and still chose you," you tease, making his gasp in disbelief.

"that's so mean," he whines, "i made you hot chocolate with extra chocolate! you can't say my best friend is cuter. and for the record, i'm way funnier than him."

"i'm kidding," you grin, pinching his cheek. "i love you. thank you," you add quietly.

"love you too," he kisses your temple. sometimes, gojo forgets what it was like before you—and he doesn't really want to remember.

atp rich boy! gojo is just his own character to me sjfjsjfj i’ve just created a whole new dude in my head with the same irritating blue eyes

[driverlando]

🏎️ max verstapen thighs. thats it. thats the tweet.

no but like hed catch you staring and then does somethinging about it🤭

congrats!! one if the best writers and blogs on here.

thank you so much lovie 🥹🫶🫶

—

The evening was quiet, the kind of calm that settled in after a long day. Max had just returned from a grueling training session, his muscles taut and glistening with a faint sheen of sweat. He was sprawled on the couch, flipping through the channels, his attention divided between the TV and the soft hum of conversation between the two of you.

You tried to focus on the movie playing on your laptop, but your eyes kept drifting to Max’s thighs. They were firm and powerful, the product of countless hours of training and racing. The way his shorts clung to them, outlining every curve and muscle, was nothing short of mesmerizing.

You thought you were being discreet, but Max’s keen eyes didn’t miss much. He noticed the way your gaze lingered, the subtle flush that crept up your cheeks each time you glanced at him. A slow, knowing smile spread across his lips, a plan already forming in his mind.

He shifted slightly, stretching out one leg and then the other, his movements deliberate and teasing. “Comfortable?” he asked casually, his voice smooth and easy.

“Yeah, just watching this movie,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. But your eyes betrayed you, flicking back to his thighs for just a moment too long.

Max’s smile widened. “Really? Because it looks like you’re a bit… distracted.”

Your cheeks burned, and you quickly looked away. “No, I’m not distracted,” you protested weakly. “I’m just… enjoying the movie.”

He chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Come here,” he said, patting the space beside him on the couch.

Hesitantly, you set your laptop aside and moved closer. Max reached out, his strong hands guiding you until you were sitting between his legs, your back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, his touch warm and reassuring.

“You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, “if you wanted to touch, all you had to do was ask.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest. “Max,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “I wasn’t… I mean, I didn’t…”

He hushed you with a gentle kiss on your neck, his hands sliding down to rest on your thighs. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I like it when you look at me like that.”

His fingers traced slow, lazy circles on your skin, each touch sending waves of heat through your body. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the raw power beneath his skin, and it only heightened your desire.

“You like my thighs, don’t you?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, unable to form words. Max’s touch was driving you wild, and all you could think about was how much you wanted him.

He chuckled again, the sound vibrating through you. “I like it too,” he said, his hands sliding higher. “I like knowing that you want me.”

Before you could respond, Max’s hands were on the move, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shorts. You gasped, your body arching into his touch, the sensation overwhelming.

“Max,” you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He didn’t stop, his hands exploring, teasing, driving you to the edge. “Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck. “Tell me how much you need me.”

“I need you,” you admitted, your voice shaking with desire. “Please, Max, I need you.”

He groaned softly, his hands gripping your hips as he shifted you slightly, positioning you just right. “Then take what you need,” he said, his voice thick with arousal. “I’m all yours.”

With that, you turned, straddling his thigh, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. Max’s eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he looked up at you.

“Show me,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Show me how much you want me.”

You didn’t need any more encouragement. Leaning down, you captured his lips in a fiery kiss, your body moving against his in a rhythm that felt both desperate and perfect. Max’s hands roamed over you, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through your every nerve.

The world outside disappeared, leaving only the two of you, lost in the heat of the moment. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, each touch, each kiss, bringing you closer to the edge.

Max’s hands found their way back to your thighs, gripping them firmly as he guided your movements. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and desire. “So perfect.”

You could feel the tension building, a wave of pleasure rising higher and higher. With one final, desperate cry, you came, your body trembling as the orgasm tore through you.

Max held you close, his own release following moments later, a powerful, overwhelming sensation that left you both breathless and spent.

As you lay together, the afterglow of your shared passion surrounding you, Max’s fingers gently traced patterns on your skin. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice soft and tender.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, closing your eyes.

[ketaundkrawall]

Backstage ☽｡⋆ Joost Klein

Summary: Joost fucks you backstage.

Warnings: smut (18+!!), pwp (like literally), unprotected piv, oral (m!receiving), chocking, teasing (😈), softdom!Joost, gf!reader, sex in a backstage area, praise kink (blink and you’ll miss it), horny idiots and I hope that’s it, no use of Y/N, afab!reader

WC: 969ish

A/N: so this one is based on this request I got few days ago! Thank you for the req Nonnie :3!! I hope it lives up to what you imagined 🥹 and reqs are always open for you all my people ✨

18+ under the cut!

The air was heavy and warm, your skin layered with a coat of sweat as Joost pressed you against the wall of the backstage area. The concrete cooling your skin down as his hands roamed all over your body. Teeth clashing and heavy breathing the only audible sound in the small room. The soft tips of his fingers drawing circles on your hips, pulling you even closer to him.

Turning his head away and he looked you deep in the eyes. Oh those beautiful eyes. “I need you now.” He said, desperation coating his words.

An equally needy sound leaving your lips as he took your hand and pressed it firmly against his crotch, showing you just how much he needed you right now.

Your hands were quick to find his belt, opening it while falling on your knees in the process. Hooking your fingers through the loops of his jeans you pulled them down along with his boxers, freeing his throbbing erection. Your mouth watering at the sight in front of you.

Feeling a hand around your chin Joost made you look up at him. His hair was all messy, his cheeks flushed and eyes dark with lust. Definitely a sight for sore eyes. “Open your mouth for me.” He said, brushing his thumb over your lower lip.

Not breaking eye contact you opened your mouth, watching his every move, as he pushed his thumb into it. Closing your lips around it you twirled your tongue around his thumb, sucking slightly on it which earned you a deep moan from him.

Soon the finger was replaced with his dick. Watching you move your head and working his length into your mouth, Joost closed his eyes. Enjoying the feeling of the wet and warmth of it. He always loved when you got on your knees for him. As he looked down he could’ve come there and then. Your eyes were closed as your pretty little mouth swallowed him whole.

Feeling the familiar warmth spread across his lower abdomen he was quick to pull you off him, earning a whine from you. “Hey!”

Grabbing your arm he pulled you up and pushed towards a table that was standing in the middle of the room.

Your brain couldn’t really comprehend what happened next. Joost swiftly and in one motion emptied the table with one arm. Bottles and plastic cups clashing onto the floor making a mess. Bending you over he pulled your skirt up your hips.

Biting your lip to keep you from moaning his thumb brushed against the wet fabric of your tiny thong you decided to wear. “Are you gonna fuck me now or what?” You sneakily remarked, gaining you another slap on your ass, harder this time.

“Definitely will baby. Definitely will.” He mumbled. Pushing it down your legs, you shivered as the air hit your wet and dripping cunt. The feeling of Joosts fingers sliding up and down your wet slit made you hold onto the table harder. Knuckles turning white.

Grinning to himself he watched you writhe beneath him. Deciding not to tease you more, he wrapped his slick coated fingers around his dick, giving it a few strokes before teasing your entrance with the tip.

Whimpering you tried to push back for some friction. “Ah-ah.” Joost chuckled.

Another whine and god he loved when you let out those little noises, blood rushing straight to his cock.

Snapping his hips forward you practically screamed his name out of pleasure. His hips now flush against your ass. “P-please.” Your desperation was music to his ears. “Fuck me Joost.” And that was all he needed to hear. He grabbed you by your neck, pressing the side of your face against the table, fucking into you like a mad man.

Skin slapping against skin and shallow breaths filling the quiet room. “So good for me.” He moaned. “Taking my cock so well Schat (Baby). Feeling so perfect around me.”

You tried to say something but your brain was fogged. Only filled with cock and the feeling of his hand around your neck, chocking you oh so nicely.

It didn’t take long for the both of you to come closer to the edge. Joost could feel your pussy tighten around his cock, indicating him that you were close so he put two fingers on your clit rubbing it in tight circles. “Come on, I know you’re close.” He breathed out, feeling his own release building up in the pit of his stomach. “Cum on my cock baby.”

And with that you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your mind went blank as your orgasm washed over you, knees buckling. You were sure if Joost didn’t hold you up by your hips you’d fall right over.

Feeling you tighten around him his hips stuttered before stopping completely and emptying himself deep inside you.

It takes you a moment to come down to planet earth. Pulling out of you, you could feel a kiss being pressed to the back of your head. Feeling too fucked to get up, you just stayed in your place, hearing your boyfriend getting dressed again. The loss of contact making you whine softly.

Looking around the dressing room, Joost picked up a cloth to clean you up, being very gentle and soft. “Thank you.” He said, pulling your panties back and your skirt down before helping you stand back on your wobbly legs.

You chuckled. “No need to thank me next time just warn me before attacking me like a horny teen.” Leaning closer you pressed a kiss against his lips. “Let’s get back out there. Bet everyone’s wondering where you are.” And with that you both walked back out the room and right back into the crowded hall of the club Joost had just performed in minutes ago.

-

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this little cutie and feel free to ask/request anything!!

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

Hi! I don’t know if your requests are open but if they are, could you please write headcanons about how Iruka, Itachi and Kakashi would react to seeing a dream about the S/O dying? Thank you!

thank you for the ask, i'm totally game!!

How they would react to a dream about their S/O dying

They being Iruka (🥹), Kakashi (😩), and Itachi (🥴) - with wildcard picks of Shikamaru (😋) and Sai (🤭) (GN!Reader)

Warnings: talk of death, swearing, lil drinky-poo mention for Kakashi n cigaroot mention for Shikamaru, tell me if this sucks💋

Masterlist💿

Iruka

Iruka dreams about you, on a mission far too dangerous, getting locked into a skirmish and then meeting a gorey demise right in front of him

Wakes up covered in sweat, chilled to the bone, to your concerned voice and gentle hand

He pulls you close in a huff, breathing heavily and quickly - Iruka just can't seem to get enough air until he's got you, on his lap, with his arms wrapped around you and his face buried in your collarbone

You laugh lightly, and scratch his back in slow circles until he's regained enough composure to tell you about the dream

Iruka would be mortified to find out he had been yelling out for you in his sleep, and that being what initially woke you, but he'd be very comforted by your presence and consciousness

He would have some issue getting back to sleep, so one of you would suggest a tea and an early start if the hour was great enough

But, if it was still around midnight, you would flip him to his stomach and perch on his butt, then scratch/rub his back while whispering sweet assurances in his ear for however long he needed to relax again

Terrified of having to live without you, hasn't got a clue how he would be able to see through that kind of fog - he's just grateful for it to have been a figment of his imagination

Kakashi

Kakashi's dream isn't only of you dying, it's of you dying by his own hand

He wakes up with a jolt, turning to find you're safely in bed next to him - still, he holds a finger under your nose to check your breathing

Feeling a burning tingle coursing through him, Kakashi has to get out of bed, he can't just forget about the dream so easily

Without disturbing you, Kakashi gets out of the bedroom entirely and goes to the living room, pours a stiff drink and sits at your bay window while watching the dark sky move

You come out to the living room soon, before he's even done his drink, and you ask if he's coming back to bed

He finishes his drink and tucks you under his arm, steering you both back to the bedroom, feeling poorly about waking you up but feeling quite cared about

Kakashi can't bring himself to tell you about the dream, even if you ask - he didn't want to deal with it the first time, let alone rehash it

Eventually falls back asleep, holding you as closely as humanly possible, drifting off while pressing a million small kisses to your face and head

Itachi

A recurring theme in all of Itachi's dreams is death - familial, friend, himself, but he hates the ones where you die the most

Sometimes, you're killed by another, bested in a fight and demolished in front of Itachi - he can hardly take those seriously, you're far too powerful in the waking world

Other times, it's Itachi, himself, who takes your life - another impossibility, he would never, not even if you had something he coveted

It's the dreams of you and he, sitting together, wasting away with decay and disease - he can't stand those, because they're all too possible and real

He'd wake up with a start, and turn to you, running his fingers through your hair, and over the rosy apples of your cheeks, scouring your body for signs of vitality

You'd wake with a laugh, his fingers tickling your ribs, and Itachi would just hum for you to go back to sleep

Just as you curl up to his chest, he starts having a coughing fit (his lungs sound like sparkling cardboard with your ear right up to his chest) and has to sit up while you rub his back and hit him between the shoulder blades with the heel of your hand

He has to get up to spit out the phlegm and blood he coughed up, but comes right back with a heavy sigh

You promise him you'll stay by his side, through sickness and in health

Though riddled with anguish, Itachi just tells you he loves you, and thanks you for putting up with him, before crawling back into the bed

You two cozy up nicely and you listen as his soft, controlled breathing turns into a light, stuttered wheeze before falling back asleep yourself

Shikamaru

This poor motherfucker can't sleep a full night without at least one sour dream and it's such a drag

He wakes up swearing and shouting when the sour dreams are about you - his dreams never go on long enough for you to die, just for Shikamaru to see you in the grasp of the enemy, scared out of your mind, knowing what's to come

If you're not woken up by his ruckus, he'll surely wake you up to get a good look at you, to get your fearful expression out of his head

You're cranky, having been woken up from a deep slumber, and Shikamaru apologises insincerely before recounting his dream in vivid detail

Of course, this causes a change of tune, but Shikamaru teases you, telling you to apologise for being such a hater after he had such a concerning dream about you

You do, begrudgingly, then ask him to cuddle you again

Shikamaru lights a cigarette and tells you he might not go back to sleep, but leans back into his pillow and puts his arm around you, allowing you to rest on his chest

Despite his claim, Shikamaru almost immediatly falls back asleep, leaving you to slip his cigarette from his fingers, steal a drag, then ash it for him in the tray on his bedside table

He's gripping you so tight, you think he might think you'll disappear if he doesn't

You just sink into his being, taking comfort in his warmth and the rhythm of his heartbeat

Sai

His dreams are quite strange - they never make sense out of the context of Sai's unconscious mind, and even then

They're all very metaphorical and symbolic, and Sai could spend his whole life trying to decipher some of them, instead he just fills a notebook with whatever he can remember

All he can particularly remember from any of his dreams about your death is just a heartwrenching feeling that took over his soul

It would suffocate him, deafen him, blind him

When he wakes up next to you, peaceful and alive, he curses his mind and wishes he could remember the context of the feeling

Sai's just glad it was only a dream, only a manufactured feeling from his subconscious to torture him

He curls up to you, letting that disgusting feeling melt away as you press into him

All Sai can think about as he drifts off to face another vivid, otherworldly dream is how lucky he is to have someone who causes such visceral emotion within him

[luveline]

I adore your 'kisses before dinner' au. Bethie has my entire heart <3!!!

Is it possible to request a fic where Bethie is in a stage of wanting to dress similarly and wear makeup like mom!reader? And Steve catches the lovely moment of them getting together for their mommy/daughter date and marvels at his pretty girls? 🥹<3

thank you for requesting!! mom!reader

“I want to wear blue.” 

“Yes,” you say, dragging out the soft ‘s’. “Your favourite colour out of all of the colours, mommy remembers.” 

Bethie smiles and looks down at your feet. “Yeah, mommy.” 

You reach for her face, cupping it in two loving hands to encourage her to look up again. Your fingers cover the side of her heads, your thumb rubbing sweet, gentle circles into her cheeks. “You know how you told dad you wanted to dress like me?” 

“Yeah,” she says, holding your wrist. She has very little hands, even for her age. 

“Well, I’ve got us dresses that are nearly the same one, and they’re blue. Should we have a look at them?” 

You and Bethie kneel by the dresser to unearth the paper bag you’ve tucked away in the bottom drawer under Steve’s socks and underwear. Bethie waits patiently, quiet and still, her hand tucked under her legs to stop from snatching. You admire her dedication to being well-behaved. “Baby, you can touch them! They’re for us!” 

Steve gets really worried about Bethie being shy, and he can’t understand it. “You aren’t shy!” he’d said to you before, “And I’m not shy, I don’t get it, I really don’t. All her favourite people are loud.” 

“We aren’t shy now, Steve. But you were a quiet kid, right? That’s what your mom said.”

“My mom would tell you the sun is blue to spite me.” But he’d conceded. Steve doesn’t mind if Bethie’s shy, he just wants what’s best for her, and being shy can be awful. 

Building her confidence was a big reason behind these mommy-daughter dates. Building her confidence, tackling Avery’s want for affection (which she deserves to have), and getting Dove out of the house —you love getting to have them one on one. You and Steve are gonna switch out after this set. He had big plans for his dates. 

You’re trying to keep it simple. You and Bethie pull on your matching dresses and dark tights while your shoes wait for you downstairs. You'd tackled her hair that morning, leaving makeup as your last port of call. “Alright,” you command, patting your lap where you sit cross-legged on the floor, “come here, sweetpea.” 

She lets out one of those happy-excited gasps that only kids seem to be able to make and hurries into your lap. You hear Steve’s footsteps on the stairs as she sits, your pretty husband edging open the door with his foot to peek inside. You smile at him, hoping it says to come inside. 

“Can I have, um, lip gloss? The pink one? That you always say gives sticky kisses?” Bethie asks.

“Yeah, for sure. I thought we’d powder your face first, how’s that?” 

She nods and closes her eyes. You pout at Steve, summoning him to sneak to the bed so he can see her tightly squeezed eyelids and her lips puckered for gloss. He puts his hand on his heart. 

He melts more and more as you go. Bethie relaxes her eyes the longer her makeup takes, though you only add little tiny dabs of everything. A dusting of powder, a short patting of crème blush on her cheeks. 

“Last but not least,” you say, gliding the pad of the lip gloss applicator  over her bottom lip. “Rub your lips together.” 

“Like this?” She rubs her lips, gloss spreading up into her cupid’s bow and under her nose. 

You wipe the smudge away with your pinky nail. “Perfect.” 

“You can say that again.” 

Steve doesn’t sound like he’s joking. He clutches the fabric of his t-shirt just below his heart, totally in love as Beth opens her eyes to smile at him shyly. “You look amazing,” he says, fingers tapping his chest in emphasis. “Beth, you look so pretty.” 

“You think so?” 

Steve sits on the end of the bed to hold her hand. He’s soft with his touches, caressing her arm with his other hand as he says, “Of course I do. How about you blow mommy off and go on a date with me tonight instead?”

She giggles. “No, daddy!” 

“You don’t wanna go out with me instead?” He ruffles his hair. “Is it the way I look?” 

“No, me and mom are gonna go to the pizza party at the bowling alley,” she says. 

“I like bowling.” 

“For time together,” she says, flopping into Steve’s arms to hug his front. “It’s okay, dad, I’m coming back.” 

“You are?” He kisses her forehead, meeting your eyes over her head, fondness in their slight squint and furrow of his brow. “That’s good. Miss you too much if you didn’t.” 

[sukunas-wife]

I'm in desperate need of sukuna just catering to his pregnant wife. Like he's being too careful, caring and overall really really cautious around her. I just need some sweet stuff between the two. Idk how it'll happen but it must, and I think you'll be the perfect person for it♡♡♡ i love your work sm istg i could just smoosh u into a big hug, reading your posts just makes me all giddy and melt. thank you in advance!!!

Stop Ilysm 🥺🤍 imma do my best 🥹

In no way was Ryomen Sukuna a domestic man, much less a man who would show mercy or an ounce of emotion. Yet here he stood, both sets of arms crossed over his chest hard stare following your waddle around the garden, his face was void of emotions but internal something was ignited. Subconsciously, his body led him to find you almost always when he would wander about aimlessly in thought. Here he was, standing on the engawa. His eyes ran over your body, the small swell in your tummy was a pain in his ass but there wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t do to ensure your safety and his child’s. He was lucky you hadn’t noticed him or you’d probably demand something from him and there he would have to go to please you.

The cold rush of air on his skin didn't bother him, but he saw how you shivered, tucking your hands into the sleeves of your robes resting them on your swollen belly. You were persistent and stubborn it didn't surprise when the second rush of wind came and you side eyed the empty air as if threatening a being. You sighed continuing your walk in the garden, fingers grazing the flowers of the garden. The garden you had begged him to make because it had been your dream to have a lavish royal garden of your own. He remembers the first time he allowed you out of his sight, he found you sitting on a stone bench under the shade of a blooming sakura tree, you must’ve felt like one of those silly little princesses with how you slowly lifted your hand to catch falling blooms.

You felt the shift in the air but weren’t bothered to turn around and greet him, you were busy on your little adventure. You were looking for the perfect place, you kept walking until you came to a decent open space, in the centre was a ring of bushes. Staring at the space you started to space out thinking only pulled back to reality by your husband when he draped his Haori over your shoulders. He stood behind you, a pair of arms around you carefully tying it closed. His scent and warmth lingered over your skin when he stepped away, you looked back over your shoulder and up at him. He was looking past you at the bushes you were staring at, one of his left hands rested on your left shoulder. He brought a right hand up to his face, squeezing his cheek bones and running his hand down his face like he was thinking, “what have you decided?” You hummed, “A plum tree right there, as our child grows so will the tree, when he’s old enough to eat fruit it’ll start to bloom.” Sukuna didn’t understand the sentiment behind having your child grow up with his or her own tree. In the end one of them would die and they would have to part ways. “Uraume” “Yes Lord Sukuna.” It was an unspoken command. It was one of many he’d be giving for the next few months.

——————-

“…su?” Your voice was lost in the dark before you tried to sit up whispering, “..sukuna.. kuna… suuuu.” You laid a hand on your husband's chest rubbing circles, he took a slow deep breath opening his eyes to look at you. “Yes y/n?” Your hand trailed to his lower shoulder trailing down his arm and taking his hand holding it in your lap between both of your smaller hands in comparison. “I..I’m hungry..” he was looking at you with soft lidded eyes. His lower set of eyes opened when he sat up the arm he had wrapped around you in his sleep and moved to rub your side, he did his best to whisper “What do you need?” He never asked what do you want like it was a bothersome request, but rather what do you need like it was something necessary for you to keep living. “I want the melon from that fruit stand in the village. The one they had at the top in a small crate…” his mouth opened slightly like he was going to say something. Because here’s the thing, he bought that melon when he saw your eyes linger on it a little too long. But at the moment Uraume wasn’t there and he didn’t wanna carry around a small crate while he had things to do so he told the Vendor he would be back for it, and if he tried to sell it or let anything happen to it, it would be his life for that melon. He closed his mouth, “I…” he moved so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, “I’ll be right back.” You sat there rubbing your belly when he left, it didn’t feel like long considering the King of Curses was inhumanely fast. What took him longer was rummaging through the fruit vendor's stand looking for that cursed crate and melon. Finally he found it tucked away with a note in beg red characters, “LORD SUKUNA DO NOT DAMAGE DO NOT SELL AT ANY EXPENSE THE EMPEROR'S PREGNANT WIFE CAN STARVE IF IT SPARES MY LIFE.” He laughed to himself, a smug smile on his face, “These fools do have brains, how refreshing.”

He made it home and had your ladies in waiting bring you to the table, there he cracked open the crate showing you the perfect honeydew melon that had a thin layer of condensation making it look like the night dew had blessed it. Your tummy growled and your eyes shined bright for everyone to see. It was funny to see the melon on a red cushion in the crate before Sukuna carefully pulled it out and placed it on a wooden slab asking how you wanted it. You told him to cut it into slices, you watched him turn down the knife a lady in waiting offered him only to use to dismantle. It was faster, cleaner and efficient, he chose the best piece shaking off the seeds and handing it to you. You bought into it and it was the best thing in the world, until you finished your third piece and decided you didn’t want it anymore you were full and it started to taste funny. Your ladies in waiting giggled and Sukuna sighed when they started to clean it up, they decided to save the rest for you if you started craving it for at least the next two days.

——————

It wasn't long after that night, you found yourself awake at another ungodly hour of the night. You felt queasy and quickly jumped out of bed, rushing to the large washroom Sukuna loved to bathe in. You grabbed one of the brand new chamber pots the ladies in waiting had bought at Sukuna’s command for when you'd get sick in the morning. You thought you were alone but there was your husband, one arm rubbing your back, the other stilling your chalky hands, the second pair braiding your hair back and out of the way. Following you immediately he snapped at one of the servants to bring water and something to settle your stomach if it was needed. For now he provided the best comfort he could. His warm hands on your cold back and shaky hands might not have stopped your nausea but it was comforting to know he was there with you even if he could’ve just rolled over and slept. You would’ve kissed him or at least his cheek if you didn’t feel so dirty and your tummy didn’t ache and feel empty in a weird way.

——————

Here stood the King of Curses, it was past midday. He was lucky your cravings were during daylight this time but what he didn't understand was why you wanted to top your dango with crumbled salted egg yolk and mochi with dried squid topping. It made him sick and he was more than willing to eat raw human flesh. He sat there making sure the waiter never let your cup empty or your plates void of food but he stopped when you tried to top fried squid with a chocolate and red bean paste.

“Enough y/n, you will make yourself nauseous before the morning nausea starts tomorrow.” His voice and look were stern and authoritative which caused you to pout, “…fine.”

Of course that didn’t stop you from packing your left over into a little wooden bento box to take home.

So when you were hungry after being carried over half of the trip home you decided to eat that sinful concoction you called a meal. Just to find your bento had been tampered with and only had red bean paste buns and chocolate mochi. Your puffed out cheeks match your belly perfectly when you went around looking for Sukuna. Only to barge in on him having a conversation with Kenjaku. “Where’s my squid!” Kenjaku was surprised someone had the gall to raise their voice and be so demanding with the king of curses, “Not now Y/n” Sukuna tried to give you a look to tell you now isn’t an appropriate time, that didn’t stop you from getting closer seeing Kanjaku’s look of surprise when he saw your stomach swollen and prominent. The King of Curses’s wife was indeed pregnant meaning it was entirely possible for a curse to impregnate a human… but could a human.. “I told YOU I wanted that squid!” Your teary eyes had Sukuna’s eye twitching his mind was Screaming ‘dammit woman out of all the times you could cry and make a scene and walk out like THAT it had to be in front of this deranged man-?” He cleared his throat “URAUME- Yes Lord Sukuna.”

Uraume was quick to fry up squid for you, fresh, hot and crispy. It was perfect. His jaw dropped when he saw how you squeezed a drop of red bean paste and chocolate mochi filling on the squid just to take a bite. He also didn’t hesitate in running at you with one of the brand new chamber pots when all of your lunch came back up with that cursed squid. Your husband walked in and sighed, he looked at you as you wiped your mouth, “What did I tell you.” You avoided eye contact, “To not..” he placed a hand on your back rubbing up and down your spine, Uraume was quick to bring water.

————-

Finally, here was Sukuna kneeling in front of you between your legs. You were close to birthing so this had become a very common position for you. Your robes were open and he was listening to your stomach. He could hear very clearly and distinct your heart beat from your child’s. That little heart beat was strong and present no doubt his child. You always ran your hand over his hair, your nails scratching his scalp and he’d humm before finally pulling back. Spreading oil over his hands. All those Japanese Camellia seeds he forced servants to gather and extract oil from because you’d become self conscious of your body and the marks in your skin where your skin was stretching. He’d kneel there between your legs, warm hands rubbing your belly, sides, breasts and thighs down with the oil that everyone had sworn would help you prevent and recover from stretch marks. As much as he’d like to have advanced on you in these situations, he would've been doing this for your last trimester daily. There was no doubt in his mind he would’ve induced early labour, so there he sat pent up but tending to your silly little self conscious needs. Honestly, how could you think yourself ugly when he thought you looked perfectly swollen with his child. If he chose you, why would you belittle yourself? He doesn’t choose and take things that don’t meet his ridiculously high standards. So he doesn’t understand why all of a sudden the change in your mindset. But he’s here with you muttering comforting words against your stomach and thighs if it help you truly understand how he feels about you.

Squishy: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks

@cyder-puff @bofadeezs

Perm: @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira

Broken🥺: @cyder-puff @simpforyoubitch @domainofmarie @ilovemybabies378

[bucknastysbabe]

Since you mentioned it before in a different post, and your asks are open… could you please do a smut piece with Jacaerys being shy about wanting a finger up his ass

YES I CAN! JACEYYYYYYY baby🥹🥹🥹so cute

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Jace in da north, Cregan’s sis, established lovers, inexperienced horse cock bb, blowjobs, wet and messy, anal fingering (m!receiving), prostate massage/milking, jace gets a lil cum drunk, fluffy

Taglist: @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @fairysluna @rafeism @howyouloveyourdragon @lovelykhaleesiii @valeskafics @sugarpoppss2 @jamespotterismydaddy

Her grey eyes twinkled as she rested a sharp cheek on his thigh. Jace was panting, his cheeks flushed as he tried to calm down. His cock laid heavy on his taught stomach, dripping pre down onto his light skin. The Stark slid her calloused hand up the prince’s side, cooing, “What did you want?”

Her lips were still swollen from the impossible stretch around his cock. Jacaerys Velaryon might have begged for something off the cuff while his she-wolf was kitten-licking the bulbous tip. Something something ‘please, more, want a finger.’ It was a moment of passion, alright? Jace had a tendency toward blurting his thoughts.

To which she pulled off with an intense look. Those solemn Stark features alight with something downright predatory. She ordered this time, “Tell me what you said, Jace. I’m not judging you.” The lady readjusted herself on the furs, gaze less wolfish. Both of her hands held his waist, thumbs circling gently.

The brunette swore he would start crying. Or explode in a great burst of fire from embarrassment. He bit down on his bottom lip, shakily exhaling. Jace mumbled, “I- I heard my uncle talking about it once. A spot for men…y’know, up their ass. While getting sucked off." He slung an arm over his eyes, groaning in embarrassment. His cock was beginning to soften.

Her hand curled back around him, the Stark laughing, "Nuh, uh, don't you dare. Never had a finger up the ass huh? You're adorable. We always say you Sothron folk are the wanton ones," Jace peered at her pretty face, "You're fine, no need to be shy. M'sure most men think about it. I think about it."

Jacaerys looked up, his curls matted a bit, eyes wide in shock. She didn't care? Still, his flush ran down to his chest but his thick cock was back to swelling up, stretching her hand out. She grinned, raspy brogue teasing, "I just got to get you nice n' wet prince." He groaned, head flying back onto the warm furs as her hand and mouth began to work him.

She drooled on the tip of his cock, bobbing and lapping, hand jerking the spit down and down. His thighs twitched, a shiver crawling up his spine as his cock was growing wetter than he imagined. The she-wolf spat again into her palm, moist tongue probing at the spot under his cockhead. Jace cried out, hand at her dark hair, thighs spreading on instinct.

Spit rolled down to his balls, falling into his crack. Arousal and embarrassment warred within his head, being so open for her in an unmanly place. His lover jerked him, the sloppy sound accompanying the fireplace. She had moved her lips to suckle at his swollen balls to further soak the area. He was making soft noises, writhing, lips unable to close at the pleasure. The she-wolf hummed lazily, shoving a digit into her stuffed mouth.

Jacaerys gasped, back arching when her spit-slick finger pressed against his tight hole. She spat again, eyes lidded, lips curled up into a smirk. "Easy now, easy dragon prince, I'll make you see stars." Jace gulped, placing his trust in her gentle forefinger, hand cautiously wrapped into her braided hair. He was panting now, legs pulling up to plant his heels down.

The small tip of her roughened finger slid through, Stark laughing softly at Jace's withering look. She wiggled in further, thumb sliding up to play with the tip of his cock as a distraction. He swallowed, mouth going dry as he rasped, "Unh...seven above...feels weird." She sighed, "S'okay, it'll get better, focus on your cock right now."

He nodded, swollen lips bitten downright red. The prince focused on her swirling thumb, thighs jumping again as the sensitive nerves pricked and tingled with every movement. He whined her name, eyes falling shut as he huffed. His lover had her finger fully in his ass now, probing.

Jacaerys tried to remain quiet, unsure of the feeling, it was strange and he felt too full. She twirled her wrist around, palm facing the stone and wood beam ceilings of Winterfell. She crooked her long finger up and Jace sharply cried out, eyes open in a flash. She had found it, fuck, his girl had found it. All the discomfort and questioning of manhood had flown out his ears.

Jace stated in a warble, "My, unhhh, Stark, s'that it."

"Yeah, that's it, lookit you, already leaking and trembling for me, sweet prince. You're gorgeous, untouched and mine now."

His dark eyes traveled down to his leaky prick, pooling cum in his belly. Liquid heat had spread from deep within, the root of his cock and balls feeling much too hot and sensitive. He flushed, the feeling almost akin to having to piss...Sweet Mother above do not let that be a thing!

"You're fine, jus' milking you out, s'intense," she rambled, dark grey orbs piercing. She used her messy free hand to pat his flank, offering a kiss on his hip. The Northwoman cooed more, stroking his sweet spot in a pointed massage, not missing a beat. Jace spread his legs like a common whore, breathlessly begging for her to suck him too. He wanted all of it, this all-encompassing feeling.

She complied, not before slipping her middle finger alongside her pointer, still working that little gland with steady circles. Jacaerys didn't realize, he was so caught up in pleasure and writhing around on soft furs. The prince could laugh at himself, he was no better than the deviant Aegon.

Aegon did not have a she-wolf. He had whores. Craven.

Stark sucked down his cock again, her slick throat convulsing around his prick. She eased off and kept her shallow bobs, sucking on the head, applying more pressure as she hollowed stretched lips. Jacaerys spurt onto her tongue, apologizing, "M'sorry, darling, can't stop right now!"

Her muffled laugh was the response, grey eyes rolling amusedly. Jace tugged her braid softly, pouting. Another pump of cum emptied into her mouth, Jace slack jawed as she seemed to push more and more out of him, sucking it all down as she milked him.

He whined deep in his chest, hips weakly bucking as his thoughts grew slow and dumb. Jacaerys was paralyzed with silky, syrupy pleasure. His energy was being drained right out of his cock. She sped up her little movements, Jace slurring the she-wolf’s pretty name. The bone deep heat in his body seemed to rise up, the prince’s noises growing more frequent.

He struggled for breath as the intense feeling crawled up his belly. Jacaerys knew he was about to cum— but he’d been steadily pouring a river down her mouth. He bit his lip, tanned skin erupting into goosebumps, sweat beading on his forehead. She swallowed hard, fingers driving up, up, up. He whimpered, blinking and scrabbling at the furs and her soft hair.

He cried out sharply as the hot flames reached his chest, convulsing and moaning in confusion. Wave after wave of intense bliss wracked Jace’s body, something among the likes he’d never felt before. Stark dutifully drank him down, removing her fingers, Jacaerys whining again at the strange emptiness. He babbled a broken sentence, no clue what he was on about.

She crawled up his shaking frame, curling next to him, rubbing the young man’s flank. “Oh, you needed that hm?”

He nodded, boneless and floating. She pressed a little kiss to his reddened lips, Jace smiling wearily and returning the favor. The girl murmured, “I quite adore you too, dragon prince. Let’s lay around for a while before Cregan comes a’ knockin.”

“P-please.”

Jace burrowed his head into the crook of her neck, her comforting scent around him. He needed much rest now, eyes growing droopy. The prince snuggled in close, burrowing into her and the wonderful furs. The fire crackled on as she rasped little praises and pet his curls. He would never leave this bed if he could, the heir decided. A grin split across his blissful expression, hugging his darling she-wolf tight.

[dovedewdrop]

Scratch My Back

Masterlist

Joel Miller x reader

word count: 889

Summary: The tide is pulling you under, just like it has plenty of times before. Your husband helps you communicate.

A/N: I’ve been struggling with my mental health & looking after myself for a long, long time and I was getting myself all psyched up to get a shower but I didn’t end up getting in and decided to write this lil thing that I’ve been thinking about for a while! I hope you enjoy it and if anyone out there is reading this and is struggling too, just know that you are not alone and that if Joel Miller were real, he would scratch your back❤️

Also thank you so much for 100 followers🥹🫶🏻 really brightened up my spirits a lil bit💓

Warnings: No Outbreak. Depiction of poor mental health. Sadness. One big loving man (it’s Joel Miller) (Not a warning but I didn’t want it to seem all doom and gloom😅) No use of Y/N.

To Joel, it was just a Wednesday, your day off. To you, the ceiling was caving in. Before he left for work you were sound asleep, your thoughts at bay, laying still against the sand, he placed a gentle kiss to your temple before rolling out of bed. Now that you were awake your thoughts were thrashing against the cliffs, the mental whiplash you were facing ultimately draining your body of all its energy.

You watch the clock on the bedside table blink from one minute to the next. You thought about all if the things you should probably be doing; showering, tidying the house, preparing that home cooked meal you’d been promising your husband for over a week but all you could do was slip in and out of sleep, that was the safe option, the one that would keep you somewhat sane until he returned. You didn’t want to bother him, didn’t want to text him those three words because you knew he would stop everything for you, everything would be put on hold so that he could soothe you and you didn’t want to add that onto the ever-growing list of things to feel bad about. So you waited.

“Honey?” His voice reverberated off the walls, the sound of his gentle tone floated up the stairs. You didn’t have the energy to shout back, the sound of his boots hitting the wooden steps told you that it wouldn’t be long until he was by your side anyway. He took in the sight of the drawn curtains, the sight of you facing them, still in your t-shirt and underwear and you felt the bed dip behind you, the warmth of his body encompassing yours, his scent filling your scenes. 

“Something happen?” A gentle kiss placed to your shoulder blade, the feeling of his lungs emptying and filling behind your back soothing you. You shook your head, allowing a silence to draw over you both as Joel’s arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you further back into the curve of his body. He was always so patient with you, so tender.

“Scratch my back.”

Scratch my back, a cry for help. A promise made between two lovers. A rule established when you’d first started dating. Joel knew that you struggled with your mental health, you’d opened up to some extent, brushing him off with a ‘I’m having a tough day but I’ll be ok x’ text in the beginning, even then he gave you your space. 

One week in spring however, everything was not okay. He hadn’t heard from you in four days, no text and definitely no phone calls. At first he thought that this was your way of letting him know you were no longer interested and selfishly, he couldn’t let it end that way. So after days of mulling it over and chewing his bottom lip raw, he drove over to your apartment and that’s where he found you, dark circles engulfing your eyes, threatening to swallowing them whole, hair unwashed, apartment flooded in gloom.

He took a bath with you, washed your hair as best he could. The spring air still had a slight chill to it so he’d made sure your new set of pyjamas were on the radiator ready for bed and he laid with you in silence until you turned into his chest and he felt the wet of your tears seep into the fabric of his shirt. 

“You don’t have to talk to me.” He pressed a kiss into your hairline. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to talk to me, I mean obviously you can, when you feel comfortable and ready to but there is something I want you to do for me baby,” another soft kiss. Your eyes travelled up his face to finally look him in his eyes, those soft brown eyes that made you fall in love with him in the first place. All you could do was give a small nod, you would do anything he asked. “I want you to come up with a word or a phrase,” he continued, “so that when things get bad and you don’t feel like you can talk about it…” he trailed off, his hands drawing shapes up and down the length of your spine.

“Like a safe word?” He let out a huff of air at that, a small smile adorning his face.

“Yeah, kinda like a safe word, so I know that you’re safe,” his palm came to rest on your cheek, thumb cupping your jaw, “up here,” and his fingers tapped gently on the side of your temple.

“Scratch my back,” It was soft, the way it came out, tears threatening to spill over, “because if you promise to scratch mine, i’ll always scratch yours.” You couldn’t stop the tears from falling then, the last thing you wanted was for Joel to see you like this and to become his burden, but the way he’d shown you such care and compassion made your head feel a little less foggy, you wanted to promise that you could do that in return, that it wouldn’t just be him constantly looking after you.

“Oh sweet angel.” Both of his hands were cupping your cheeks now, pressing a light kiss to your nose and then your lips.

[thef1diary]

Congrats on 3k!! Could you possibly do "Have I told you I love you today?" "Yes, but please say it again." and VCARB Danny? Smothering him with affection and cuddles to keep him happy after some ups and downs these past few months 🥹

Reassurance | D. Ricciardo

a/n: this one was a bit painful to write. I received another request with the same prompt but with mclaren!daniel: happy 3k!! i wanted to request '"Have I told you I love you today?" "Yes, but please say it again."' and mclaren!daniel 🥹 the neediness for validation and cuddles.. thank u 🫶 & this request too that fit perfectly: I didn't find anything fitting on the list for Daniel, but I have been thinking about him being insecure about getting a seat next year and just reassuring him that he won't be alone, no matter what happens.

prompt: "Have I told you I love you today?" "Yes, but please say it again."

wc: 1.1k

warnings: very brief mention of ed, mclaren!daniel (yes that’s a warning because of the horrors we went through)

masterlist 3k celebration

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

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2022

You watch as Daniel returns home from yet another simulator session, his shoulders slumped in a way that makes your heart ache. He's been trying so hard, pushing himself to the brink, but it seems like nothing is going right for him at McLaren. The once bright spark in his eyes have dimmed, replaced by a weariness you haven't seen before. A part of you wonders if it'll ever return—no, you hope it will, it has to. After all, his happiness was a part of him, and as the months went by, you could see that he was losing that part of himself.

The late nights, the early mornings, the gruelling workouts—he's given everything he had, but the results were still disappointing. You've noticed the subtle changes, the unhealthy habits creeping in as he tries to cope with the mounting pressure. The missed meals, claiming he wasn't hungry even though he cooked with you. The dark circles under his eyes from the nights he laid awake, tossing and turning beside you until he decided to leave the room so he doesn't disturb you. He's burning out, overworking himself, and you're worried for him, scared even.

As he stands in the kitchen, holding a glass of iced water, staring blankly at the wall, you step up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. He tenses at first, but then you feel him relax into your embrace, his free hand coming up to cover yours.

"Hey," you whispered, you voice soft and full of love. "Have I told you I love you today?"

For a moment, it's silent. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his body against yours. Placing the glass on the countertop, he turns in your arms, his eyes meeting yours. The exhaustion is evident, but there's a flicker of something else there too—something that makes your heart break.

"Yes," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. "But please, say it again."

Your throat tightens with emotion, and you reach up to cup his face in your hands. "I love you, Daniel. So much."

He closes his eyes, leaning into your touch, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he surrenders. His arms wrap around you, holding you close in fear that if he lets you go, you'll walk away from him too. You feel the tension slowly ebbing away from his body as you run your hand up and down his back.

You guide him to the couch, pulling him down with you, and he lets himself fall into your embrace. You hold him tightly, your fingers running through his hair, whispering words of love and reassurance. He clings to you like a lifeline, his breath coming in shaky gasps as he lets himself break down.

"It's okay," you whisper, kissing his forehead. "I'm here, I've got you."

He buries his face in your neck, his arms still wrapped around you, afraid to let go. For a long time, you hold him, letting him spill out all his thoughts—the negativity he's been keeping to himself, the self-doubt—even though you disagree with his harsh criticism of himself, you listen. You feel the weight of the world slowly lifting off his shoulders, replaced by a fragile hope. You know it'll take time for his confidence to fully return, but you also know that sometimes, a little bit of hope and a lot of love can make all the difference.

2024

After rejoining the RedBull family nearly a year ago, Daniel felt a sense of familiarity, a feeling of being home again. But despite the warm welcome and the support of the team, the inconsistent results start to gnaw at him. He has good races and bad ones, which cause the doubts to creep back in, whispering that maybe he's not good enough anymore.

One evening, after a particularly tough race, you find him in the living room, staring blankly at the wall. His shoulders are slumped, and the light in his eyes is dimmer than it should be, reminding you of a time that sent shivers down your spine. You walk over and sit beside him, your heart aching for him.

"Hey," you say softly, reaching out to take his hand. "Have I told you I love you today?"

He looks at you, and for a moment, you see the pain and doubt reflected in his eyes. The words bring back memories of that night in your arms, and it shatters your heart to see him struggling again.

"Yes," he whispers, his voice filled with vulnerability. "But please, say it again."

Your eyes fill with tears, but you blink them away, determined to be strong for him. You lean in, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close. "I love you, Daniel. I love you so much."

He buries his face in your neck once more, his grip on you tightening. "I'm so scared," he admits, his voice trembling. "What if I don't get a seat next year? What if these ups and downs mean I'm not good enough?"

He pulls back, a look of horror crossing his face as he struggles to string sentences together to express his thoughts. "The team, they believed in me. What if I let them down?"

You shake your head, pressing a finger to his lips to stop him from speaking another word. "You are more than enough," you state firmly. "You belong here. The team still believes in you, and so do I."

He opens his mouth to speak, but you don't let him. "It's okay to have doubts, but don't let them consume you. As for your seat, there are still plenty of races left to show your worth. You deserve it."

He nods, his breath warm against your skin. "I just don't want to let anyone down," he murmured.

"You won't," you assure him. "You're an amazing driver, and you've come so far. Sometimes things don't go perfectly, but that doesn't mean you're not worthy. And no matter what happens, I'll always be here for you."

He sighs, the tension slowly leaving his body as he melts into your embrace. "Thank you," he whispers. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You don't have to worry about that," you say softly, kissing the top of his head. "I'm not going anywhere."

Wrapped in your arms, Daniel closes his eyes, allowing himself to let go of the anxieties that have plagued him for so long. You stay like that, cuddling and comforting him until he starts believing your words.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

taglist: @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @gxuh @67-angelofthelordme-67 @kigieri @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @namjoonswaifu @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @mehrmonga @wobblymug @bokutos-babyowl @chilling-seavey

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Plaid Pajama Morning

Summary: A sleepy Sunday morning with you and Javi in bed

Paring: Husband!Javi x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1K (She's just a baby)

Warnings: Allusions to smut, Javi being a cute lil sleepyhead, reader wears Javi's shirt, sweet fluffy adorableness 🥹

A/N: Shoutout to my dear @endlessthxxghts for letting me harass them with the thought of what Javi would look like with nothing but some good ole pajama pants and messy bedhead- now here we are 🫠 Idk why the thought of this man in pajama pants has me so feral but of well 🤷🏼‍♀️

Can be read as a stand alone or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!

Sunlight spilled through your windows, the soft orange glow painting shadows on your bedroom walls from the curtains dancing in the crisp morning breeze. You gently stirred in your sleep, rustling the sheets and comforter around you, savoring in the warmth radiating from Javi's body as you nestled in closer to him, tucking your head against his chest and hiking up your leg over his. You felt his arm drape over your waist, tugging you in tighter as his thumb drew sleepy circles on the small of your back, the warm breath of his soft snores and dancing fingertips on your skin making a smile spread across your lips in your half awake state. 

Reaching your arm up towards his face, you let your hand cradle his jaw, the scratch of his unshaven morning stubble rubbing against your palm before running your hands through the bed–headed curls at the nape of his neck. A gentle sigh grumbled low in his chest, letting both his arms wrap around you, lightly pressing a kiss in the messy curls of your morning hair. 

The quiet silence of the early hours of the morning hung in the air, the sunrise just now bright enough to have you squinting your eyes, scrunching the sleep out of your face as a yawn bellowed from your belly, making you stretch your arms over Javi’s broad body. Wiggling your fingertips before bringing them back to twisting and tugging at his thick locks, your movement gradually began easing him more and more awake next to you. 

“Good morning.” Javi whispered, pulling you closer to the bare skin of his chest, letting your head lean against him. You couldn’t help but savor in the familiar scent of him lingering in the sheets, the sweet and savory smell of his cologne still idling in the bed, even after being dampened by a night’s worth of rest. 

“Good morning.” You grinned, your voice muffled as your words hit against his warm skin. The two of you lay there for a moment, drinking in the peaceful quiet of your sleepy Sunday morning. 

“How’d you sleep, Hermosa?” Javi cooed, letting out his own yawn, flexing his arms above his hand before making their way back to your body, letting his hands creep under the hem of his shirt that you had worn to bed last night, sliding his fingers up and down the fabric. 

“Good. I think the sunrise woke me up, sorry if I woke you up, too.” You sighed, rustling in the sheets, pulling them closer towards your face as the chill of the brisk December air filled your room, making you shiver and Javi chuckle as you wiggled against him. 

“Shhhh, don’t be sorry, Osita. Glad I got to wake up to my favorite view. The sunrise is pretty nice, too.” Javi smirked, now awake enough to let his lips find yours, a tender kiss catching the quiet chuckle escaping your mouth. 

“God, you’re so cheesy.” You giggled, gently shaking your head as you looked up to let your eyes meet with his, the dark brown glistening in the sunlight, making your heart melt just as fast as the first time you locked on to them. 

“It’s true.” Javi grinned, planting another soft kiss on your lips as he wrapped both his arms around you pulling you so close, that you thought your bodies would meld together as one. “You want coffee?” 

“I’m not sure why that’s even a question, Jav.” You teased, playfully raising an eyebrow at your husband, letting the hand resting along his jaw give his cheek a little squeeze. “Yes, please.” 

With one more kiss presses against your forehead, Javi let out a grunt as he rolled out of bed, running his hand through his hair and along the back of his neck before reaching down to grab a pair of pajama pants he had begrudgingly begun to wear as he accepted defeat that the warm weather of the late summer and early fall was long gone. While it was cold enough for pajama pants, Javi had still not deemed it cold enough for a shirt, which you couldn’t complain about in the slightest. 

Even with his body still slouched and sleepy, you couldn’t help but admire the muscles of his back as he stretched, your eyes trailing from the broadness of his shoulders to his waist, where his plaid pajamas sat low on his hips, the elastic waistband barely making it high enough to keep from falling off. His tanned and toned skin glowed in the morning light, accompanied by the wild curls of his untamed bedhead.  

You turned over, laying on your side as you rested your hand in your chin, elbow propped against the mattress as you watched Javi disappear out of the bedroom, only to return a few minutes later with two mugs, steam curling off their tops. Setting black Laredo’s Sheriff's Department mug on his nightstand, he passed the well loved and worn “Empire Strikes Back” cup off to you, and the goofy grin plastered across your face as you watched his broad body stride across the room, back towards you.  

“What’s that look for?” Javi smirked, sliding back into bed with you, shuffling himself under the sheets. 

“What? I’m not allowed to admire the view either?” You giggled, biting down on your lip before taking a sip of your coffee, letting the warm liquid run through your body and making your eyes widen just a bit further at the sight of your devastatingly handsome husband sitting next to you. 

“And I’m the cheesy one.” Javi teased, carefully grabbing your mug out of your hands and setting it down next to his before rolling over to cage your body under his, peppering ticklish kisses across your face and neck, making you squeal and squirm from his playfully loving touch. 

“Wow, teasing me and stealing my coffee before I’m even all the way awake? You’re playing risky games there, babe.” A mischievous grin spread between your lips as Javi’s kisses began to travel their way down your body, his head beginning to disappear under the covers, stopping at your stomach and peeking back up at you with a boyish smirk. 

“I think I know something that will wake you up just fine.” 

Taglist

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk

[happy74827]

You Must Be Haunting Me

[Brian Moser x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Even after a year, you’re still haunted by the Ice Truck Killer.

WC: 2643

Category: Angst, No Comfort {TW: Not Proof Read 😞}

I did another one!! Are you guys proud of me? 🥹

So, rewatching the season, I forgot how sassy he was so I wanted to really show off that aspect in this one. Then my patience was over it, so the ending is just kinda… bland. But it’s okay because it’s Brian (he seriously needs more attention FOR REAL).

Anyway, for those 14 Brian fans… this one’s for you 🫶

『••✎••』

The dark circles beneath your eyes. The way you can barely stand on your feet, your body so exhausted that you can hardly lift a finger to defend yourself. You’re like a walking corpse, and he's the one responsible for putting you in this state.

It started one year ago. One year ago, you moved to Miami and became the victim of a killer. It wasn't until his brother came along and put him six feet under that you began to heal and get back into the normal, everyday routine. But then he showed up.

It was one of those nights where you’d randomly get a jolt in your sleep. You sat up straight, the sheets pooling at your hips as you looked around the room. Your breathing was shallow, and sweat was beading on your brow. You felt a shiver run up your spine as you slowly laid back down.

"You sleep soundly."

His voice caused your heart to stop. You knew who it was, the same man who had terrorized you, who made your life a living hell. Slowly, you turned to your side, staring wide-eyed at the dark figure at the end of your bed. Your hands began to shake and tremble as you reached for the lamp on your nightstand.

"Oh, don't bother."

In an instant, with the sound of fingers snapping, the lamp's light went out. You could hear a chuckle coming from the intruder, and you were paralyzed, afraid to make a move.

I mean, it couldn’t be him, right? It was just some sick joke. He was dead. He couldn’t be here.

He couldn’t.

But, god, he looked the exact same. The curly dark hair, the pale skin. He was just a silhouette in the darkness of your room, and yet, you could tell that the grin he wore was the same grin that he had on the day you met him.

"You look like you’ve seen a ghost." He mused, moving closer towards you. His weight caused the bed to dip slightly, and you could feel the fear begin to take over your body. "Should I start saying boo?"

Your throat was dry, and you couldn’t speak; all you could do was stare at him, frozen in place. He lowered his head in amusement and chuckled, leaving his lips once more.

It was when his eyes weren’t on you that broke you out of your daze. You shot up from the bed, nearly tumbling over yourself as you ran to the dresser, grabbing the nearest thing you could find and throwing it at him. It was a vase, one that held a bouquet of flowers, that shattered against the wall, causing him to look up.

"…Was that supposed to scare me?" He asked, raising a brow as he tilted his head, an almost bored expression on his face. "You’ve got the aim of a blind man."

"Get out of my house!"

The sound of your own voice startled you. Anger wasn’t necessarily the emotion you normally felt, but now it was the only thing that was running through you. Anger and adrenaline.

He stood from the bed, taking a step closer to you, the broken glass crunching beneath his feet. You didn’t care; you took a step back, holding your hand out as if it would stop him from coming any closer.

"Get away from me, you psycho."

He laughed. He actually fucking laughed.

"Psycho?" He repeated, "That’s a new one."

"Stay back." You hissed, feeling the tears well up in your eyes.

He took another step.

"Don't touch me!"

Another. He was only inches away from you now, and the thought of him being so close made you want to vomit.

The annoyed sigh he let out when he noticed your hand trembling was enough to set you off. You didn’t think twice; the only thought in your mind was to get him out, and so you did.

When he was walking towards you, your mind remembered the small kitchen knife that you left on the counter. Quickly, you ran past him, dodging his hands as he reached out to grab you, and grabbing the knife, and in one quick motion, you turned and stabbed him.

"That’s not going to—"

It went right through his chest. He stared down at the knife, then up at you, with that all-knowing expression.

He sighed again, "…work."

What the fuck?

In the next moment, he vanished, and the knife fell to the ground, the clattering against the linoleum floor echoing through the house.

For a minute, you thought it was a dream. That is, until he appeared in the chair beside you, his arms crossed, his eyes boring holes into your face.

"You can’t hurt me." He said, his tone flat, his eyes narrowed, "I can’t either. Not physically, anyhow."

You stared at him. He stared at you.

"I can fuck you up, though." He continued, "In many ways. Mentally, emotionally… The possibilities are endless."

"What the hell is this?" You questioned, your brows furrowing, "Are you some kind of— of, what, demented Casper?"

His expression was unreadable, but then again, he always had that look on his face.

"Casper? Wow, seriously? You remind me why I don't watch movies." He groaned, shaking his head.

"You didn't answer my question."

"And you won't like my answer."

"Try me."

"You’ve lost it." He shrugged, "Completely off the hinges, you know? And that's saying something, considering who you’re talking to."

"I don't—"

"Have a mental disorder."

"What?"

"That's what it's called. When someone has delusions of grandeur, where they think someone is after them. Someone, of course, meaning me." He explained, a grin spreading across his lips. "But, no. It's all in your head. Just. Like. Me."

The words sank in, and you stared down at the floor, your mind processing everything he was telling you.

"No, I'm not crazy." You murmured, mostly to yourself, but loud enough for him to hear.

"You're not? Well, how else would you explain me being here?" He asked, cocking a brow, "I’m dead, remember? My dear brother made sure of that."

"I—"

"And you know damn well I’d never wear this out of the office. It's not exactly the most flattering."

It was then you noticed what he was wearing.

He had his lab coat on. His entire outfit was the same thing he wore the day he met you. You were with Debra to question him about Tucci’s recovery and, god, if he didn't make the biggest impression.

It was pretty hard not to like him when he was giving one of his patients, a little boy, a lollipop from his jar and making a joke.

You remember telling Deb, 'What a nice guy'.

Oh, the irony. The fucking irony.

"What a nice guy." You found yourself repeating before looking him up and down, your lips curling in disgust. "You were just fucking with me the whole time, weren't you?"

He shrugged, "What's it matter now? I'm dead."

"It matters to me."

"Would you like me to apologize? To beg for your forgiveness?" He asked, a mocking tone in his voice, "Would that make you feel better?"

You were silent.

"Wouldn’t do anything." He continued, "And it certainly wouldn't change a thing. But, hey! By all means, you go right ahead and play pretend. Maybe then, you'll sleep better at night."

You scoffed. He was such a piece of shit.

"How much are you gonna torture me, huh?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest, "Torture me like you did, Debra? Like your brother? Are you just going to follow me around like a bad smell? Make my life a living hell, like you did theirs?"

"I didn't torture him." He stated, a hint of malice in his tone, "He's my brother."

"Like that means shit."

"He was just like me. A lot like me, in fact." He went on, his eyes flickering over to you. "I could see myself in him."

"Well, he killed you." You countered, "That doesn't really seem like brotherly love."

"He did what he had to." He shrugged, "That Harry… he was a real piece of work, wasn't he?"

You were quiet again.

"And Debra?"

"A pain in my ass. Always sticking her nose in places where it doesn't belong." He replied, shaking his head. "But, then again, that was her job, wasn't it?"

"You broke her. You tore her apart." You snapped, the memories of the past year filling your mind. "She really loved you. She really did."

"I know."

"You don't care."

"Not at all." He said, the faintest hint of a smirk appearing. "Not in the slightest."

"Fuck you."

He laughed, his laughter filling the room before it faded out, leaving the both of you in a heavy silence.

He had a different aura around him this time. It might be the aura of a dead man, a hallucination. But he still felt so… present. Even his mannerisms were the same—the way he moved his hands, the way he tilted his head. His eyes still had that glint of mischief. It was so real.

So. Fucking. Real.

"If your just in my head, why can’t I just kick you out?" You asked, finally breaking the silence, "Make you go away."

"Because, even after a year, I still affect you." He answered, his voice low. "Even though you try to ignore it and push the memories back, I’ll always be there. In the back of your mind."

"Why couldn’t you be my dead childhood dog or something? Why do you have to be some crazy serial killer that ruined my life?" You said, shaking your head.

"I'm not boring."

"Neither was my childhood dog."

"Rocky didn't have a single interesting thing about him. All he did was drool and lick himself." He countered, his lips pursing.

"How the hell do you know— oh, fuck this. Just go away." You groaned, rubbing your temples.

He didn't respond, and the room was quiet. For a second, you thought he actually listened. Then, you heard him hum.

"Hm. No."

"Jesus Christ."

"Now, that's really a name I haven't heard in a while."

This was how it became. For months, you would have these random conversations with him, and no matter how much you tried, he would never leave. Everywhere you went, he was there.

Work.

Shopping.

Even at the damn bar.

You had no idea what this was. You didn't know if this was a side effect of the trauma you went through. Whether it was your mind trying to cope or just the result of a lack of sleep. Whatever it was, it was draining the life out of you.

You felt like a shell. Your coworkers knew something was wrong. The way your eyes were dull and lifeless, the dark circles, the slump in your shoulders.

They were concerned—except Debra. She was too concerned about the case to pay attention to anyone else.

You weren't really sure what day it was. Or month. Time was going by, and you were slowly dying mentally, as he put it.

"Is this because I can't sleep?" You asked him one night, staring at the ceiling, your voice hoarse, "Because I can't go to sleep without seeing your face? Or is it because I don't have the energy to live?"

"I would say both."

You groaned, throwing an arm over your eyes, "What did I do to deserve this?"

"It's not what you did." He replied, his eyes locked on yours, "It's what I did."

"Yeah, well, thanks."

"Don't mention it."

The two of you sat there in silence before he cleared his throat.

"How are things with my favorite bloodhound?" He asked a curious tone in his voice. "Is he still sleeping with that cute blonde, or did he wise up and break it off?"

"Rita. Her name is Rita." You corrected him, shaking your head, "She’s his girlfriend, not his flavor of the week."

"Hm."

"And, for your information, they're fine. Great, actually."

"How disappointing." He scoffed, leaning back in his seat. He genuinely looked upset, which caused a snicker to leave your lips. "What's so funny?"

"You are." You replied, looking over at him, "You're so pathetic."

He blinked.

"You're a dead man. Dead. How can you be disappointed about his love life?"

"I'm his older brother." He stated, his jaw tightening, "I want what's best for him."

"Really? Then why aren't you in his brain, harassing him?" You questioned, a smile coming onto your face, "You know what? I bet he's sleeping great. He doesn't have to deal with this. Not like I do."

"I would love to give him a good old-fashioned night terror. It'd be easy, too. He's not exactly the most stable." He replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But his brain is too messy. He's always been that way."

"I guess he takes after his brother."

"He took after our father. The one thing I did was make him forget about it." He retorted, his tone harsh, "Notice how he never talks about the old man? Or the past? Now it’s only me. That's because of me. I took him from that shitty childhood. I gave him a better life. A better everything. I could’ve given him the world."

You were quiet.

"Instead, he killed me." He spat, the venom in his voice obvious. "Because of that stupid, half-witted sailor mouth."

You honestly had to give your brain props for this one. He was too realistic. He was too Brian.

"You know what?" You began, sitting up, "I really am feeling a lobotomy."

At that, he actually laughed. Now that… that was different from the chuckles and snickers, this was a full laugh, something you haven't heard since you met him. It was loud, it was obnoxious, and it was the only thing you could hear.

It was the last thing you heard before the most amazing thing happened.

You fell asleep.

In the morning, you woke up to a pounding on your door and an annoying ringing. Groaning, you pulled the pillow over your head, hoping the noises would disappear. Instead, they only got louder, and you had no choice but to get up.

"Coming, coming!" You shouted, shuffling out of the bedroom and towards the door, the banging and the ringing still going on.

When you opened the door, you saw Debra.

"Good. You're up." She greeted, her expression annoyed. "Where were you last night?"

"Sleeping. What are you, my mom?"

"I called you. I even sent someone by your house. You weren't here." She stated, a slight bite in her voice, "And I'm not your mom, but if I were, I'd spank you."

"For what?"

"We have a meeting in five minutes." She said, checking her watch, "Get dressed. I'm waiting."

"Shit."

In record time, you threw on some jeans and a shirt, and within the next three minutes, you were out the door and in the car with Debra.

But as she pulled out of the driveway, he appeared directly in front of her.

"Hey, watch—"

But he only winked at you before disappearing. And at the time, you found it nothing but him being a prick. But, later on, you would realize.

This was the last time you would ever see him.

A month went by. And another. And another.

Then, a year.

The visions of the past still came. The thoughts of him were still there. The memories were still fresh. And sometimes, if you listened closely, you could still hear that laugh.

But you weren’t afraid anymore. You had no reason to be. And so, you moved on. You continued living because that's what he would've hated. And that made you smile.

Because, now, it wasn't him haunting you.

It was you haunting him.

[latenightdaydreams]

Very specific request but König finding gn!reader (who was unambiguously his lover) who was presumed dead in a nursing home. Crippled and scarred, maybe they were also part of the military, but your body was never recovered after the mission. Yet here you are, sitting in some nursing home with a book in your lap and a blanket around your shoulders, looking so much paler and thinner than he remembers. Maybe they wanted to wait until they were strong enough to actually go see him in person themselves, or maybe they're struggling with their self image now. Just headcanons on how he and reader would deal with it, if you want more angst maybe reader is also disabled now, unable to walk without crutches, or developed a chronic illness. I'm just such a sucker for this type of hurt comfort.

🥹As someone who uses arm crutches, this story was close to home lol. Thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy🥰

Finding You (g/n)

Fluff and angst (slightly)

Master List

>cw: internalized ablism, disability

1.3k word count

.

.

Today was just like any other day at the nursing home. You sit in a vintage arm chair with a pale blue crochet blanket around your shoulders, donated from a local artist, you took it as soon as you saw it in the pile. The shade of blue reminding you of König’s eyes.

You miss him, crave him, but you aren’t ready for him to see you. Not like this. Physical therapy has only been helping but only so much, your body still looks wasted away. A deep scar cutting across the left side of your face now, making you feel hideous. You don’t resemble the person König fell in love with and you’re scared that if he sees you, he will fall out of love.

You drop your eyes from the window to your book. You struggle to stay focused on the words when all you want to do is see, even talk to, König. The months have been lonely, your depression only getting worse. Next to you, resting on the chair, are your new arm crutches you’ve been getting use to walking with since your spinal injury. You glare at them with distain for a while before looking back out the window, remembering life before the incident.

The common room is quiet as most people are outside today to enjoy the warm weather. You wish to be outside, but you still feel a level of embarrassment having to use crutches now to walk. You never knew how hard internalized ableism could affect you until you became disabled.

König walks up the stairs and opens the door to the nursing home. He sees a young woman sitting at the front desk and she greets him warmly.

“Hallo, I’m here looking for y/n.” He gives her your full name.

“You’re their first visitor! I’m sure they will be so excited.” She stands and gestures for you to follow her to where you are.

She walks him through long hallways full of rooms, finally he arrives at the end of a hallway with large windows illuminating the room, the walls painted a pale yellow, making the area bright and cheerful. She points to you.

König stares, not recognizing you at first. You’re small, your skin pale and your hair grown out. You haven’t noticed him, dissociating and looking out the window instead. König thanks the woman and begins to slowly approach you. His eyes gleaming with love as he looks over your fragile body.

“Schatz?” König speaks softly to not startle you. He notices the crutches next to you on the chair.

You turn your head to look at him head on. Your eyes widen with surprise to see him. A wave of emotions rushes over you as you realize he is really here. You don’t respond, just stare. You watch as König kneels in front of you and slowly pulls off his mask. His cheeks are red and there’s a small smile on his lips.

“Schatz?” König slowly moves his hand and rests it on your thigh. He has missed how you feel.

“König…” Your voice shaky as you’re overcome with emotions.

Hearing your voice makes his small smile grow, his eyes study your face. Dark circles under your eyes and a deep sadness fills them. A small frown on the edges of your lips. A new scar on your face, he wonders what happened, but won’t ask right now. No matter what, you’re still the most stunning human he has ever laid eyes on.

“I’ve missed you.” His grip slightly tightens.

“I’ve missed you too.” You move your book to the side on the chair, your hand finding his.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He grasps your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss. “Why didn’t you call? Write? Something?”

König doesn’t mean to talk about such heavy topics right now, but he is just so full of heart-ache. Life without you has felt so empty.

“I wanted to heal, get better.” You look into his eyes scared of rejection.

“I could help you heal Schatz.”

“I didn’t want you to see me like this…” Your voice cracks as you talk, you drop your gaze to your lap.

He squeezes your hands slightly; he is aware of how much you’ve changed. Not just physically changed, but probably also mental.

“You know that I love you no matter what, right y/n? You’re my light.” König has felt rejected, learning that you were alive yet never tried to reach out to him.

Your frown deepens at his words, tears building up in your eyes. A heavy feeling of guilt and regret washes over you.

“I’m sorry…”

König gently grabs your chin and turns your face to him. “Don’t be sorry. I’m just glad to see you’re alive.”

He looks at you for a while before leaning in and kissing your lips softly. You kiss back and move your free hand to cup his face. You didn’t realize how much you missed him, his touch, until right now; you’ve been suppressing your feelings for so long.

Just then a nurse comes into the room and approaches the both of you. She smiles warmly and places her hand on the back of your chair.

“Today is a beautiful day, you haven’t been out in a while y/n. Why not show your guest around the garden?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” König excitedly agrees. He stands up and reaches his hand out to you.

You let out a deep sigh, not really wanting to do anything. Yet, you grab his hand and stand up, your legs wobble slightly. König notices and quickly wraps an arm around your waist and holds you close. You feel so much lighter in his arms. Holding you steadily, he reaches down and grabs your crutches.

“You need these, right?” He asks in a soft voice as he hands them to you.

You nod and grab them from him. You slip your arms in and stand with them. König softly steps back and lets you stand by yourself. He watches the way you stand and how you rest on your crutches.

You both walk out of the room and to the back door to enter the garden. König walks at a slow pace to keep up with you. His eyes on you the whole time to make sure you don’t fall or need his help in some way. You feel self-conscious as he looks at you, you know it isn’t with malice, yet you can’t help how you feel.

Stepping outside the warm sun hits your skin and you squint your eyes. König just smiles, taking in how precious you are to him. Seeing how far you’ve come in your healing journey makes him proud, he’s always known you were a strong person. He just wishes he could have helped you along the way.

You walk with your crutches, one foot at a time, making sure to not rush yourself and allowing your body to move at a pace it’s comfortable with. The pain from moving already starting to kick in, and it’s written on your face.

“Do you need any help Schatz?”

“No, I’m okay.” You lie not wanting to push König away by asking for support.

König nods, seeing a bench in the distance he begins to slowly guide you there with a hand on your back, not meaning to over step but he sees you struggling and wants to help. Once there, he puts his hands around your waist to help you sit. There are so many things he wants to ask you, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Instead, he simply wraps his arm around you and pulls you close to him. He kisses the top of your head.

“Would you come home?”

“I- I need to heal still.”

“I can hire a nurse for you, you know money isn’t an issue Schatz. I can take time off work as well.”

“I don’t want to be a burden-”

“You are never a burden. Never.” His voice stern but he isn’t angry. “You’re more important than stupid paper work. Please, come home to me.”

You look up at him with teary eyes and just slowly nod your head. You thought when König saw your crutches, your scar, your frail state, he would fall out of love. He would be… disgusted. But no, his love has proven to be unconditional.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Always In My Heart✨

Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x fem! reader

A/N: I lost my best fur baby today. October would’ve been 3 years since I adopted him. From a stray on the streets to a spoiled house cat. He battled so much. From FIV+ to broken teeth to diabetes and then to cancer. He was the best kitty ever and was my very own first cat, so he was extra special. I wrote a little one-shot to try to express how hard this loss is for me and to try to cope. I miss you, little Biscuit. Mama loves you 🥹 This is for everyone who’s ever felt the loss of losing a beloved pet.

Summary: Losing a pet is never easy, but you’re not alone because Joel is right there with you, keeping you afloat.

Word Count: 1.2k

Tags: Grief, love, soft Joel, losing a pet, angst with comfort, no use y/n, no outbreak au

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Drip. Drip. Drip.

   The misty rain pelts on your drenched skin, and you’re cold. You’re so very cold. You can feel the chill burrowing down to your shaking, fragile bones like they may break at any moment. 

   Thunder booms through the gloomy sky, lightning flashes in the far distance, and you swear you can hear the faint cry of a lost soul deep in the woods. Can almost hear your favorite meowing coming from the covered grave in front of you…

   The grey clouds completely cover the sun, the pattering rain seems to mourn just like the cold tears that stain your cheeks. You feel lost, broken, just like your heart is. Completely shattered.

   The crunching noise of the shovel meeting the earth is almost too much for you to handle. This is too much. On your knees, fingers curling in the hollow dirt, your jeans ruined from the muddy ground. And you can’t look up, can barely open your swollen eyes as you mourn the loss of your favorite cat who had made you so very happy. 

   He was your entire world.

   You miss him so much. The feel of his long, soft fur. He felt like velvet, smelled like a warm summer’s day, and you miss the way he’d curl up on your shoulder at night, purring with affection and love. You miss his little meows, the ones that would echo down the long hallway. It always was your favorite thing to wake up to.

   But now he’s gone. Faded into the afterlife when the cancer became too much. He was a fighter, the strongest fighter you’ve ever known. But now he’s just a precious memory. 

   And it hurts. God, it hurts.

   Your tears blur your vision, your face buried in your dirt covered palms, fighting the bitter sting of losing your best fur baby. You only had him a few short years. It wasn’t enough time. And now he’s gone…

   The sobs escape your lips, and you’re now a blundering mess on the ground, asking God to just give you one more day. One more day of long cuddles and top of the head kisses. And his slow blinks. The ones he’d give you every single time you told him how much you loved him. 

   You just want him back, but life isn’t fair, and pets don’t get to stay nearly as long as you’d like. Life is cruel, and you wouldn’t wish this awful pain on your worst enemy.

   You shrink against your drenched raincoat, not even caring that your hair is tangled and dripping down your back. You don’t much care for anything right now; all you can feel is the large hole that’s gaping in your broken heart.

   The rain continues to pelt down on your shoulders, your body shaking like you’re stranded in the middle of the Arctic Ocean. The frigid waters are dragging you under, and they’re about to swallow you whole.

   Just when you think the dark depths will win, strong arms encircle your back and envelop you into a warmness that soothes the screaming voices in your head. 

   “Hey. Easy now, sweetheart. Easy.” His thick, deep drawl shrouds you in comfort while big teardrops fall against his dark green flannel. He cradles the back of your head with one hand, the other gently drawing soothing circles down the middle of your back.

   “I… I didn’t get enough time, Joel. It wasn’t enough. I should’ve done more. He could’ve had more days. I didn’t…”

   “Shhhh. S’alright, babygirl. You did more than enough. You gave him the best life he could’ve had. Do you know how lucky he was to find you? You were the best cat mama I’ve ever seen. You loved him so much, and he loved you very much,” he coos, pulling you closer to where you can smell his woodsy cologne and a hint of tobacco wafting off his tongue. 

   He feels like home. He is home.

   “You really think so?” you sputter out, tears breaking over your lash line and falling onto his soft button-up shirt.

   “Look at me,” he says gently, his hand cupping your chin and tilting your face up to look into his soft brown eyes. Eyes that make more tears spill over the edge. He catches them, wiping them off with the pads of his thumbs and softly traces them down your cheeks until you feel warmth flood your insides. “You’re such a brave girl, my love. So very brave. And you were nothin’ but loving with that cat. Even made me fall in love with him, sweetheart.”

   You giggle, your breath shaky and eyes misty. Even when you’re sad, Joel Miller can make the rainy days turn to blue skies. “He loved you, Joel. He followed you everywhere you went in the house. Especially in the mornings when you made your coffee.”

   He laughs and shakes his head, his brown eyes a little teary from the memories. “Yeah, he sure did. And I’m gonna miss him a lot.”

   “Me too,” you squeak out quietly, gripping onto him like he’s your lifeline. 

   He leans forward and traces his plush lips against your forehead, leaving you breathless with the semblance of comfort he leaves on your skin. He’s like a blanket of warmth, and he’s just saturated you in love.

   When he pulls back to look at you, he pushes a wet strand of hair behind the shell of your ear and lingers there on your cheek, sparks radiating through his touch. “I love you, sweet girl. And I know this hurts. It hurts like hell, but you’re so strong and brave. You’ll get through this. It’s gonna take time, but I’m right here to help you through it. You’re gonna be okay, sweetheart. Maybe not today, maybe not next week, but you will be. And I’ll be here through it all with you.”

   A tear slips from the corner of your eye, and then you’re crashing into him, throwing your arms around his broad back as you sniffle into the soft material. “Thank you, Joel. For being here for me. For helping me lay him to rest in our backyard, for loving him as much as you love me.”

   His fingertips brush your skin, and then your head tilts back automatically, knowing what that touch means. He leans in and places a soft, lingering kiss on your lips, the kind you want to melt in, one that tastes like honey and longing and pure comfort. When he breaks the kiss, he places another on the top of your head and pulls you flush to his chest, strong arms enveloping you once more. And it feels like peace, a place you can rest and bring life back inside your worn body.

   Joel brings you to life time and time again. And this time is no different. 

   “‘Course, sweet girl. I’ve got ya, always. I love you,” he whispers, blanketing you in love that only Joel can make you feel. 

   Suddenly, you know you’ll be okay. It might hurt for a bit, but Joel will always be here. Even on your worst days, he keeps showing you that he’ll never leave you struggling. He’ll be here for it all, loving you till the end.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Remember me? (Part 18)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Summary: Idiot in love

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1849

A/n: ehehe i am so happy to be writing this again. i know it took me like, months to get to this but i lovedd writing this one soo much and i am so happy to share this one with you all my bbgs 😭🥹

also im soo sorry i made you all wait for this🥲 please accept this peace offering 🥰

enjoy!

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Y/n had returned to her and Fin's chambers. She found Nyx and Fin sitting in his room, running and jumping on his bed. Feyre was resting on the couch in the living area couch, wrapped in a threadbare blanket and staring at the kids through the open door.

Y/n said nothing as she settled next to Feyre, letting out a sigh.

Y/n knew Eris would be here anytime with the inner circle and Tamlin.

Feyre an Eris had decided to interrogate him for where and how he found Nyx.

A knock came on the door, and a moment later Eris entered, four others in tow.

For a moment, they said nothing, staring at Feyre, who did not bother to acknowledge their presence. Y/n glanced at Eris, concerned.

Eris simply shrugged and settled down next to Y/n, his arm resting across the backrest, his fingers brushing the nape of her neck.

Tamlin let himself sit on one of the other couches that filled the space, and a few moments later, the Illyrians followed. Morrigan was the last one to sit, still staring at Feyre.

Y/n tried to take deep breath to fill her lungs, but it felt hard considering the tension in the air was thick.

"So..." The warrior with the red siphons, Cassian, spoke, and Y/n could tell he was trying to ease the tension.

"Where did you find Nyx?"

Those were the first word that came out of Eris's mouth, directed towards Tamlin.

"I was on my way to the palace when I felt something. It was dark, like something that was not supposed to be in the forest." Tamling glanced around once before settling his gaze back on Eris, leaning back to get comfortable before he spoke next. "I decided to take a look. There, I found an... opening, almost. It was dark, like a void. And the boy was walking towards it, but he did not seem in control of himself."

"It was Rhys." Feyre mumbled, making everyone's head snap towards her.

"What?" Azriel and Y/n asked simultaneously.

"I looked into Nyx's mind. Rhys had been trying to control him and bring him to the Night court through the opening he created, thinking no one would notice in the chaos of the night."

Silence reigned before Eris and Cassian cursed.

"Those openings have been appearing everywhere from what I know. Just a few days ago I saw a couple in spring."

"Why would he do that though? And why did you leave, Feyre?" Morrigan asked, her tone accusatory.

"Mor." Cassian warned. Mor huffed, folding her arms across her chest.

Y/n felt a tap against her mental shields, and she glanced at Feyre, who still stared at the kids. That told Y/n what she needed to know.

"Fifty years ago-" Y/n began with a deep sigh, commanding everyone's attention. "-Under the mountain, was when I first met Rhys."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

The atmosphere was extra gloomy as Y/n stared out the window of her bedchambers. Even the trees seemed to droop in sadness, the wind too still, glaring in hate.

She sat by herself, the comforter whispering under her wandering palms as she tried to hold onto the soft materials. She could not stop thinking about the incident that happened a few hours ago, how scared and worried everyone was. Just thinking about Feyre’s grief stricken face brought tears to Y/n’s own eyes.

A knock drew her from her depressing thoughts, and the fire in the hearth crackled as the door cracked open a moment later.

The grim face of the high lord peeked in, eyes flitting from object to object until they landed on Y/n, who did not even glance at him.

He closed the door behind him, walking towards her and just staring at her, pausing only when she gave no reaction to his close proximity.

She spared one glance at his face, then patted the plush mattress beside her. He sat down, his sigh echoing in her ears as the comforting scent of his cinnamon and wood scent enveloped her. He sat close enough that the heat from his body warded off the chill and warmed Y/n up within moments, or maybe it was his fire magic.

Whatever it was, Y/n leaned closer to him, grateful for the reprieve from the chill that the fire crackling in the hearth did nothing to chase.

Y/n was perfectly content to sit next to Eris in silence the whole night, but it seemed like he had other plans when he shifted, turning his body to face her.

"Y/n?"

She blinked, then turned her head. "Hmm?"

He seemed nervous about something, light sweat glistening on his neck, partially covered by his shirt. She then realised he had discarded his heavy jacket somewhere, and now he just sat in front of her in a simple white shirt.

"I know this is probably not the best time to talk about this, but… it’s important."

Y/n lifted a brow, remaining silent, knowing he would continue talking.

"The advisors and courtiers, they’ve been pestering me to find a bride."

Confused, she stared at him, wondering how she was concerned in that matter. And then her heart stopped.

He was going to get married.

Y/n looked away, nodding.

"And? Why are you telling me this?"

On the inside, her heart was struggling to stay put, cracks beginning to form in the already withered organ.

He groaned. "Why do you think Y/n?"

She glared at him for a moment before getting to her feet. "The only reason I can think of is you want me to find you a bride. Is that what it is? Sure, I’ll find you one-"

Moments merged together in the next instance, and everything started to low down. Or maybe she was too drunk to realise how fast things were going.

A hand clamped down on her elbow, long, slender fingers digging into the skin and bone, heat rising slowly as he caged her body against the nearest wall so she faced him. His smell overpowered all of Y/n’s senses, the skirts of the ball gown she had worn to the revel a few hours ago swishing softly against the ground. Eyes widening, Y/n met his burning gaze.

Even though he was no longer touching her, she knew his skin would be hot to the touch.

It was a thing she quickly found out once she moved to autumn court. Everytime Eris was frustrated or mad, his whole body burned like a furnace.

"Eris-"

"Why do you not understand Y/n?" He snapped. "Why do you not understand that I don’t want you to find me a bride? When will you understand that I want you to be my bride?"

His chest heaved against hers as he stepped closer, his eyes pleading, yet burning with a passion she had only seen the glimpses of before.

Y/n was dumbfounded. She did not know what to say. She did not know whether to ask him to repeat or laugh in joy.

But the words that slipped out of her mouth were neither. They were entirely damning.

"You never gave me any indication-"

"Didn’t I, my sweet nemesis?" His words were followed by a deep sigh as he stepped away, the sound of the air exhaling reverberating in Y/n’s very bones. "Did I not do my very best to make you happy? Did I not- hell, our dance tonight should have been enough for you to understand my intention. And even if that wasn’t enough, did I not say I would have married you right then and there if you just said the word?"

Y/n shrinked under his gaze as he turned away, running a hand through his hair. He cursed under his breath, then mumbled a low sorry.

"Eris-"

"It’s alright if you don’t want me, Y/n, but I thought… I… I thought that you must have liked me back-"

"Eris listen to me-"

"Maybe I’m not as good at reading people as I thought I was-"

Frustrated, Y/n followed him to her bed, then grabbed the back of his shirt just as he was about to sit. He whipped around, his eyes going a fraction wide at the look on her face.

"Shut up and listen for once, my lord." a shove accompanied her words, and Eris bounced onto the bed, his lips sealed in fright.

Honestly, I could get used to this.

Her lungs expanded, then she released a breath. "I… I’ll need some time, Eris. I can’t take such a big decision myself. Fin-"

"Has no problem with me marrying you." Eris mumbled, breathless as he stared at her.

Y/n blinked. "You- what?"

He nodded, getting back to his feet, grinning. "I already talked to Fin, and he was quite happy about it."

Despite her disbelief, the corners of Y/n’s lips ticked up. Eris looked just like one of his young pups, excitement in his eyes and a jump in his step.

The happiness and hope in his eyes made her realise.

I love him.

fuck.

I love him.

She gazed at him, freckles decorating his skin like freckles glowing in the fire in the hearth, the way his eyes glinted with something so pure, so innocent, the childlike glee…

It was impossible to say no.

Not like she wanted to in the first place.

"Yes."

He blinked, his ears darkening. "Yes?"

"Yes, I will marry you, Eris Vanserra."

The smile that split his plush lips could have lighted the whole universe. She knew it would light any dark days she would have to face in the future.

"I- thank you, Y/n. Oh mother." He stepped back, his hands shaking as he shoved them in his pocket and pulled out a small box, his fingers fumbling for a moment before finally getting it open. "This… I cannot believe this. Oh my god."

He grabbed her hand, pushing a beautiful ruby and diamond encrusted ring onto her finger.

She laughed at his reaction, pulling him into a hug. His arms wrapped around her in a tight vise, asif he never wanted to let go.

Y/n hoped he would never.

They stayed in the embrace for long moments, neither wanting to let go.

"Eris?"

"Hmm?"

"I’m so glad I met you."

"Y/n?" he whispered in her ear.

She grinned into his shoulder as he began swaying her softly. "Hmm?"

"I’m so glad I met Fin."

She gasped, pulling away to glare at him, but he had already made a run for the door, his cheeks red and his eyes crinkling.

She stared at his back, her eyes refusing to move from his figure until the door swung shut behind Eris. Her lips twitched, and she shook her head, biting her lips to try to stop herself from grinning like an idiot in love.

It was of no use, of course.

Because she was, after all, an idiot in love.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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@azrielsmate3 @rcarbo1

[mustainegf]

I’ve been craving dilf Kirk!! Can you write a smut where reader has been a bit of a brat and he puts her in her place 🥹

Kirk pls me next pls Kirk pls

𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍 ²⁰¹¹

My attitude towards Kirk lately had become very… bratty. I'd pout around whenever he had gigs scheduled and couldn't spend the whole day with me. I'd text incessantly for updates on what he was doing and demand that he answer right away. I'd been far from perfect, and deep down, I knew it.

One evening, after yet another screaming battle about his touring schedule, Kirk called me into his bedroom. The moment I came through the doorway, his glowing brown eyes snapped onto mine.

"Sit," he commanded, gesturing to the edge of the bed. His tone brooked no argument, and I didn't even think to disobey. As soon as I settled, he moved and grasped my wrists, pinning them above my head against the mattress.

"You've been acting like a spoiled little brat lately," he growled. "I think it's time someone taught you some discipline."

I knew Kirk well enough to understand that when he got stern, it often preceded something intense, and not just emotionally. He leaned in close, his lips grazing my cheek as he whispered:

"I'ma fuck you so good tonight, baby. I'll show you exactly how a good girl should behave."

Though a rebel to most people, his dominance was exactly what I needed from Kirk: for him to take control, to remind me who really was in charge.

With one smooth movement, he let go of one of my hands to jerk down my shorts and panties in one smooth motion. The cool air hit my exposed pussy, eliciting a loud gasp from me. Kirk didn't waste any time, sliding two fingers down and pressing inside of me with no type of warning at all, really opening me up for what was to come.

"Fuck, you're already dripping for me," he muttered, curling his fingers deeper. His touch was punishing.

I pushed my hips back into his fingers. His other hand slid up my spine to grab a handful of my hair and pull in a gentle but firm way. It was a sensation I loved, one that always left me whimpering.

"Kirk," I moaned, unable to retain anything. My own voice filled the room. I could feel my walls clenching around his probing digits, begging to cum even though we’d hardly begun.I

"Be a good girl for me…" His thumb found my clit, circling it in tight circles as his fingers continued their brutal assault on my gummy depths.

With a deep groan, Kirk suddenly pulled his fingers out of me, leaving me hollow. I didn't get a chance to protest as he pushed me back onto the bed again. His eyes burning, glued over my naked body.

"Now, let's see how sorry you can really get," he grumbled. Kirk shed his clothes really fast, bulge prominent in his jeans, and crawled all over me, caging me under his larger frame once he was fully nude.

"You have two choices here," Kirk growled, grinding his erection against my sensitive folds. "Either you beg me to fuck you senseless until you learn your lesson… or I'll tie you up and use you however I please."

I knew better than to challenge him further with his cock rubbing against my heat. Instead, I chose option A for the path of least resistance.

"Please, Kirk," I begged, reaching up to lace my fingers through his dark curls. "Fuck me… Show me how much you hate my attitude." There was no mistaking the desperation in my voice as my body started shaking.

An evil grin shot over Kirk's handsome features at my plea. In one move, he peeled off my shirt and bra, baring my breasts to his hungry eyes. He palmed them roughly, tweaking on my nipples until I cried.

"You want me to fuck you hard? Punish you for bein’ such a brat?" he asked, each question followed with a nip along my neckline. I could only nod frantically.

"Then say it," Kirk demanded. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you."

His cock beat against my thigh, its heat practically searing into my skin.

"I want you to f-fuck me, Kirk," I breathed. "I want you to fuck into me until I s-scream. Use me like the naughty girl I am." My hips bucked upwards involuntarily, needing to feel him inside me. "Remind me of what a bad brat I've b-been. Make me feel it."

"That's my girl," he praised, his voice low and rumbling. "So eager to be used properly." With that, he aligned himself with my entrance, the blunt head of his cock nudging my slick folds.

Kirk snarled, slapping my ass hard enough to leave a bright red print there.

“This is exactly what you deserve," he added, his merciless rhythm resuming. His cock pumped into me time and time again, filling me.

He stopped for a moment, letting his words hang heavy in the air, then slammed back in. "You love it. Don't you? Beg for it," Kirk ordered. "Beg me to ruin your pretty little cunt."

"P-Please, Kirk," I whimpered, opening my legs wider in invitation. "Please... Fuck me until I c-can't walk straight. I need it, I need you so badly."

With a growling grunt, Kirk rammed into me, filling me to the hilt in one smooth motion. I screamed, hooking my nails into his shoulders and clinging to him for my life.

"Yes!" I cried back, bending my spine to meet his strokes. "Harder, Kirk!"

He did so at a ruthless pace, pistoning in and out of me and his movements shook the bedframe.

"Fucking brat," he growled, accenting each word with especially cruel strokes. "Thought you could act up and get away with it, huh?"

I could only gasp and moan. The headboard smacked against the wall with each impact, the sound mingling with the obscene squelch of flesh meeting flesh.

"I'm close," I panted, and my inner muscles had already started fluttering around his shaft. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"

The dual stimulation of his cock driving into me and his fingers torturing my clit was too much. I balanced on the edge of cumming, my whole body was squeezing.

"You're gonna cum for me," Kirk ordered. "You're gonna drench my cock with your sweet juices because you need to be taught a lesson."

With one last roar from Kirk, he bottomed out inside me a final time, his length stroking that spot way deep inside that made stars burst behind my clamped shut eyelids.

I shook and screamed, trying to grip onto him for support as inner walls clenched and spasmed around Kirk. My bones to jelly and my mind to mush.

"S-shit!" I managed to gasp out, and my entire world was reduced to that incredible feeling. "Kirk…fuck."

Kirk grunted, He pounded into me a few more times, milking every last drop of pleasure from both of us before finally pausing deep inside me. He fell on top of me with a shuddering breath, his weight pressing me into the mattress.

A moment later, he pulled out slowly, letting my sensitive flesh relax, before he slid entirely off the bed. I watched him, still dazed while he cleaned himself up and then turned to me with a smirk.

"Learn your lesson, brat?" he asked darkly.

Lying there, almost immobile, I could only offer a weak smile. "Yes… yes Kirk…," I whimpered. "I’ll be good..."