#that’s how I can miss him when I think about him all the time….

[tinycoffeeroom]

more than enough | lando norris

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

requested: Hi lovely, I loved just friends!! Since reading, all I’ve been able to thinking about is bestfriend/roomate Lando. Maybe you’re not able to join him for race weekend and he hasn’t heard from you, like at all. When he returns, he thinks you’re not home until he hears the sobs and realises something is really wrong. Maybe you’ve broken up with your boyfriend and Lando is standing on the other side of your locked bedroom door, absolutely in love with you and hurting because you’re hurting 🫠

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📍 Miami

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 1,387,928 others

landonorris WE FUCKING DID IT!!!!! P1 in Miami!!!!! you bitches can't call me lando nowins anymore!!!

See 997,729 other comments

fan you can tell lando runs his own social media... ↳ mclaren it is our biggest burden

oscarpiastri well done mate! well deserved! ♥️ landonorris ↳ landonorris you next osc!!!

maxverstappen1 i said i'd have to collect my wins before you start coming for them, congrats winner! ♥️ landonorris

mclaren our papaya boy, you will always be loved (heart) ♥️ landonorris

fan WHERE IS Y/N?????? ↳ fan lando said in an interview that she couldn't come this week!!!! i'm sure she texted / called him

fan i know y/ns screaming and crying at the fact she couldn't be there this week

fan no lando / y/n hugging photo :((((( i miss my best friends

liked by fan, fan and 19,036 others

f1gossip Lando Norris' roommate and best friend Y/N L/N was caught in a heated argument with her recently debuted beau outside a restaurant in Monaco. The person who sent the photo in was too far away to hear the argument, but said Y/N seemed despondent to the situation, watching her boyfriend walk away before paying the bill and leaving quietly. Soon after, waiter's came to each outside table and told them Y/N sent her apologies for the commotion.

fan y/n :(((( was he the reason she couldn't go to Miami????

fan i'm gonna dox him ↳ fan i mean... i'm not gonna stop you

fan i have a knife.

fan i hope he's an ex boyfriend now wtf???

fan do you guys remember the pics of her and lando talking at padel and her bf was shooting DAGGERS at lando??? yeah somethings going on there ↳ fan we hate insecure men

fan lando i know u have money and connections i need this man to disappear

It wasn’t unusual for you to go radio silent after a race you weren’t able to attend, especially one on the other side of the world. Lando was used to a simple “congrats on P4!<3333” or wherever he had placed that time, and then you would be off to the land of dreams as he went about his day, shuffling between meetings and the media paddock. 

Today was different however. Lando had actually won. He’d won his first ever race and his best friend and roommate was virtually nowhere to be seen. He couldn’t help but feel a little angry at you, you knew how much P1 meant to him, the hours he had spent moping around the little apartment the two of you shared after a bad race and the rants he would go on when he placed P2 but was inches from that ever so elusive win, slipping just through his fingertips. 

He fired off one last text to you before sliding the phone back into the waistband of his fireproofs so he had his hands free to accept celebratory fist bumps and handshakes from every garage along the paddock. 

The lack of communication from you slowly slipped his mind after he had interview after interview, the kind and excited words of the journalists filling him with pride as they recall just how far ahead of Max he had been. Sure, his mood soured everytime someone mentioned that he got lucky with the safety car but his mother always told him that luck was something to utilise, not something to rely on. 

When he was finally free of the media’s hands, he checked his phone again. No messages from you which made him sigh, but one from Max. Opening their text thread, he’d dropped Lando a location pin for a well known bar in Miami along with the sentence “9pm, be there or be square, race winner”. 

–

To be quite honest, Lando doesn’t remember much of the party. Hell, he doesn’t even remember getting there, Zak having plied him with glass after glass of champagne during their debrief. He’s pretty sure Oscar had been the one to zip his fly up when they met outside their hotel rooms before the party, hands moving up to recentre his shirt so only a slightly scandalous amount of chest showed. 

Sitting on the private jet, again courtesy of Max, he thumbed through the last text thread between the two of you. You’d seemed fine, mentioning that you were going out for a meal with your boyfriend before the race started, and then… nothing. Complete and total radio silence. 

Maybe you were still with your boyfriend, too wrapped up in that jackass to notice the 17 messages Lando had left you since last night. 

God, he hated that guy. Ever since the day you had introduced him to Lando, he’d had a bad feeling. The guy was too touchy, arm wrapped securely and possessively around your waist like Lando was some kind of threat. 

And maybe he was. 

If he’d just manned up and told you the truth, that he’d loved you since the moment the two of you met one sunny day when he was still an F2 driver and you were the sister of one of his rivals, then maybe it would be his arm draped around you. 

Instead he had smiled, rolled over and showed his stomach like a runt at the bottom of the food chain, and watched from afar as the guy whisked you away under a mottled sunset. 

He felt a nudge at his side, eyes meeting Max’s curious ones. “Still no reply?”

He sighed, shaking his head as he pocketed his phone once again. “Maybe she’s busy…”

The excuse sounds weak even to his own ears, and when Max simply hums unbelievingly, he sighs again, mind torn in half at the elation of his win and the sadness of your ignoration. 

–

Sliding the key into the door, he listened ahead for any sign of life. The sound of dishes clinking in the sink, or your playlist of noughties hits that he always pretended to hate but would secretly sing along to when you weren’t looking. 

The silence that blankets him is unnerving. Too reminiscent of when he’d moved here alone and had all but begged you to join him, promising a rent free and easy going life. 

Checking the kitchen, he sees it’s exactly as he left it last week. The living room is barely lived in, the odd throw misplaced from the back of the sofa. His game room door is still shut, as is both his and your bedrooms. 

As he walks through to drop his suitcase off in his room, dreading the amount of washing that will fall out of it when he gets the energy to open, he hears a noise. From your bedroom, specifically. 

Checking his watch, he sees its 2 in the afternoon. Normally, you would be up and out by now, dragging Lando to whatever new fad you had seen on tiktok, or to the padel courts where he would inevitably lose to you. 

Leaning so his ear presses against the door, he can make out the shuffling of sheets. Maybe you had decided to do some laundry whilst you waited for him to get back. But then, the sound of sniffling joins. 

He freezes on the spot, ear still pressed haphazardly to the wooden door. The sniffles get louder and louder, soon joined behind an unmistakable sob. He can feel his heart drop to the floor, his stomach joining it on its tumultuous way down. 

You were crying. And he had no idea why. 

Pulling away from the door, his hand hovers the knob. Should he knock first? Should he just leave you to it? Normally, when you were sad, you would sneak into whichever room he was in, either reaching a hand out to lay against his back or sitting close enough so your thighs touch. He knew you needed to feel some part of him in order to ground yourself, and he always obliged. Oftentimes, the two of you would end up cuddled on the couch, some soppy chick flick on the tv as you gave into the warmth surrounding you, eyes closing as you rested your head against his shoulder. Despite how much it hurt to see you sad, he couldn’t deny these quiet moments were his favourite part of any day. 

Another sob breaks out, the sound so cruel and visceral, it was as if it had been yanked from your very soul. He forgoes knocking, hand twisting the knob harshly. He tries to push it open, only to be met by a force pushing back against him. 

You’d locked the door. 

In the 4 years of living together, neither of you had ever once locked your bedroom doors, knowing the other would knock before entering but still feeling comfortable enough to forgo privacy so the rooms could be open to the other whenever. 

“Y/N?” He calls out hesitantly, as one would approach an injured bird. 

The sobs become muffled, more shuffling of sheets before you call back to him, voice weak and torn along the edges. “Lando?”

He normally loved when you said his name, but the whine that accompanies it today leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He knows he should ask what’s wrong but he doesn’t know where to begin. He’s never not known why you’re sad, the two of you an open book shared between friends. 

He starts the only way he knows how. “Did you watch the race?”

More shuffling of sheets and when you respond, your voice is closer. “I’m sorry Lan, I didn’t get a chance to.” A moment of silence passes between the two of you. “How did you do?”

He wants to be angry. He really does. The one time you don't watch a race and he only goes and bloody wins it. “I won.”

“What?” Your voice wobbles, wondering if you were imagining what he had just said. 

“I won, Y/N. My first P1. 7 seconds ahead of Max.”

He waits for your response, probably some form of congratulations spoken through wood given your current mood. What he wasn’t expecting was for you to unlock and slam open the door, the both of you wincing as it bangs against the wall. “Say that again.”

He takes you in for a moment. Bloodshot eyes rimmed with violet, tears still making their way down flushed cheeks. You’re wrapped in your duvet, only your head visible as the duvet covers what is probably bedhead and your favourite set of pyjamas - flannel trousers and a t-shirt of Lando’s you had stolen at some point. 

Shrugging his shoulders, he smiles warily at you. “I won.”

Throwing yourself at him, he takes a moment to steady the two of you, arms wrapping around the mass of duvets surrounding you. He can feel you crying again, tears soaking the collar of his shirt. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Lan. I should have watched, I mean you won and I wasn’t even there to watch. I’m sorry, please forgive me.” You choke through the words, fingers digging roughly into Lando’s back. 

He winces at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin through the shirt, squeezing you even closer to him. “Don’t be sorry. Something obviously happened.” He uses the mound of duvet to pull you away, eyes flickering over your face. You look heartbroken in more ways than one. “What happened, sweet girl?”

Your lips quiver at the nickname, a hand poking through the duvet to reveal your phone. After 3 tries of using face ID, you huff, angrily putting in your passcode before turning the screen to Lando. 

He scans the screen. It’s an instagram post by some F1 gossip page. He recognised the user as one who often tried to paint him as some womaniser, taking any regular interaction with a woman as a sign he was sleeping with them. 

This post, however, is different. He sees you first, mouth in a tense line as you stare blankly at your boyfriend. Then he sees the caption. 

The anger returns, festering and dark, this time directed to your dickhead of a boyfriend. “What did he do?”

You sigh, locking the screen and pulling your hand back into the duvet cocoon. “I said I wanted to go home because your race was about to start. He got angry and accused me of being in love with you. I pointed out that I was literally on a date with him. He called me every name under the sun, told me we were over and then stormed off. I’m sorry, Lan, this isn’t good publicity for you.”

He scoffed, eyebrows raising skyward. “I dont give a fuck about the publicity, I care about you. How dare he speak to you like that?” He can tell the angers bleeding into his tone but he’s about 2 seconds away from finding out where that prick lives and beating him over the head with a padel racket. “Are you ok? Do you want to put on a chick flick? Order a takeaway? Go to a rage room and plaster his face across every breakable thing?” Moving closer, he rests his hand against your jaw, nudging it between your tear stained skin and the soft duvet. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

Sighing, you nuzzle against his hand. “None of that, Lan. I just want to cry and forget what happened last night.”

Swallowing his pride, he nods. “Do you want me to talk to him? I can tell him we’re not in love with each other. Just best friends.” The ending comes out a little bitterly, but he hopes you’re too distracted to notice. 

You smile up at him affectionately. The simple curve is enough to make his heart flutter from where it had picked itself off the floor and wormed its way back into his chest. 

Reaching up to lay your hand over his, lacing your fingers between his, you sandwich it between the warmth he so craved. “I just want to be with you. You make everything better.”

He reflects your smile, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone. You wanted him, just him, and for now that was more than enough. 

[lymtw]

Thinking of an argument with Toji that leaves you mute by choice towards him. He still talks to you and asks you questions, and while you don't turn away from him, you don't respond to him either. He ends up having to figure out whatever he needs on his own because after a minute or so you huff and walk away from the conversation.

"Mama," he calls from the bedroom, rummaging through his clothing drawers. "Have you seen my gym shorts?"

If he was able to get a word out of you, he would know that you washed them for him. Though you were still sizzling with anger towards him, you pulled them out of the dryer and walked them over to the room. He could hear your little footsteps as you approached the room, and when he turned to look at you, he noticed you were holding his shorts in your hand.

Your eyes were vacant towards him. You didn't want them to be because it sucks when you can't look at him with the endless amount of love you have in store for him. It's still there, but it's being masked by a poker face.

You toss the shorts onto the bed and leave. Toji sighs, irked by the fact that it's actually starting to sting now. Your disregard for him because you're ruled by your emotions and he lets things go too easily because he can't hold a grudge towards you, even if he feels you're in the wrong.

Toji never knew how much he depended on your voice until you wouldn't let him hear it. He depends on you to tell him where things are because without you they would be scattered all over the place. He doesn't know your method of organization, but somehow when he needs something and looks to you in order to find it, you pull it out from right under his nose. He depends on you to tell him he's doing a good job, and to tell him you love him, and just reassure him in general. It makes him feel good to know that someone thinks he's good enough, but recently the one person who feeds him affection like it's as important as food and water, has left him to starve. You haven't said a word to him in almost two days, and he feels like he's starting to go crazy. The sound of his own voice is driving him insane. It's gotten so bad that he had to make a mental note of how he's going to get you back that same night.

Toji leaves for the gym and texts you during his time there. He includes some images because it's now an unspoken rule that he always has to send you gym pics.

[ Attachment: 3 Images]

... 😳🤐

Yeah, I know you like those. I'll be home soon.

You take the time to doll yourself up while he's still out. It's for him, but you won't tell him that until you come back from your "night out". Really, you're just gonna go get dinner for both of you from his favorite little restaurant. You just want to see how far he's willing to let this go, because you're caving. You're ready to apologize even when you know he's not upset at all. You're ready to spoil him in order to make up for those severe feelings you held towards him. You're ready to hear about how stubborn and unbelievable you are for this little act you pulled.

You spray on some perfume and walk out of the bathroom, just in time to catch Toji walking through the door.

"Woof, where're you going, ma?" He asks, setting down his gym bag before absorbing everything you were gracing him with. His eyes flit up and down your body, lingering on the very bare skin of the legs that come out from under your skirt. He can smell your perfume from where he stands, its elegant scent masking even the smell of his own potent sweat.

You didn't answer his question, and left him to wonder why you're all dressed up at seven o'clock at night. Was it a girl's night or were you openly showing him that you have options? Did he miss a message or a call from you?

You grabbed your wallet and scooted past him. You walked halfway down the corridor of your apartment building before realizing that maybe this was a bit much. You would make him worry over you going on a five minute walk to grab some food? All so you can show him you're mad? You cracked.

🥟🥡🍜.

Toji was staring at his screen, waiting for anything from you. The screen flashes like some sort of miracle and your message is seen by him. He chuckles, feeling a sense of relief wash over him at the sight of your little emoticons.

You came back home as fast as possible, bags of food in hand as you patiently waited for the elevator to bring you up to your floor. You took your time walking through the corridor, this time, not knowing how you would react once you saw Toji or if you would immediately say something to him. You're ready to talk to him, you want to talk to him. You miss him, you love him, and you hate the passiveness you threw yourself into around him as an act of retaliation.

There you were, standing in front of the door, nervous beyond belief for what was behind it. You collected yourself and twisted the doorknob, ready to face anything that came to you.

Toji stood from the couch and walked over to you to take the bags from your hands. The smell of his body wash wafted into your nose. There was an imaginary white flag hanging out of your pocket, and it was about to fall out to signal your surrender to Toji.

He pecks your cheek and watches in real time as color floods into your face. It's one of the most adorable things he's ever seen—you standing there so rigidly afterwards. He gives you a soft smile and resists the urge to coo at you for being so cute. Instead, he heads to the table to put the bags of food down.

You shut the door, and within a split second, Toji was in front of you again. "Ma," he says, sounding a little more desperate than he thought he would. "Say something." You stand there like a statue—unmoving, but unlike a statue, you are easily moveable. Especially, by Toji. "Anything, mama, please." He crouches down at your feet, his warm hands resting on the backs of your knees and his cheek resting on one of your thighs. This position made it look like you were being worshipped by him, and anyone who ever saw him do this would know that it was true, because he worshipped everything about you. From the top of your head, to the ground your feet stood on.

"Don't you miss having my hands on you?" They glide up and down the backs of your thighs. He looks up at your stunned expression. You won't look down at him, so he gets to see the way you swallow the words dying to leave your mouth, and the slight widening of your eyes as he lets his hands roam your lower body. "I know I do. I've been in hell these past couple days." He presses a soft kiss to your knee, then one more on your thigh. "I didn't mean what I said. I don't think you're selfish, baby. Maybe i'm just a greedy asshole," he says, rekindling the subject of what led to your silence towards him. His hand maneuvers around your leg so that his palm is on your thigh, making its way up towards the inner part of it. "But, I know something," his lips trail further up your thigh, softly kissing your skin. "I'm greedy about you. That can't and won't be changed, even when we argue like idiots."

You put your hand on his head as he starts kissing up your inner thighs, making his way even further up beneath your skirt.

"Come on, my sweet girl," he murmurs, his lips meeting the front of your underwear. "Tell me you want me to stop. Tell me you hate that my filthy paws are on you, right now."

Your legs tremble at the lightness of his touch, and you internally cringe at how sensitive you've always been for him.

"Toji..." you gasp. You feel his warm tongue flatten between your legs, a slow upwards drag of the muscle makes your thighs quiver before him. You whimper at the damp warmth his saliva leaves on your panties. "Fuck..." you moan, breathily. "Don't stop. Stay there, please."

The first word you reintroduced yourself with being a moaned out rendition of his name was heaven reaching down to pat him on the back for knowing exactly what to do to get you to talk again.

"Open wider for me, baby. Let me see," Toji says, your skirt still veiled over his head. You take a step back so that your back is against the door and widen your stance a little more. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and you shudder when his tongue returns to slide through your clothed folds. He doesn't even need to produce that much saliva to drench the fabric of your underwear because you've done that for him already with your leaking arousal.

You shut your eyes and rest your head against the door as Toji continues his act of filth between your thighs. You can hear him panting below you, your taste pleasantly coating his tongue every time he sucks on the garment that clings to you.

You cry out his name with sharp breaths following, your fingers tangling into his locks, gripping and tugging as his lips catch onto your cunt. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you grit out, whimpering at the contrast between his mouth and his hands. His hands offer a gentle massage to your thighs, softly kneading the plush between his fingers. His mouth moves purposefully because he knows exactly what it takes to make you fall apart with it. He coats his tongue with your essence every time he laps at the wet patch on your underwear, sticky webs of arousal connecting him to you.

"T-Toji!" You squeal, your cunt throbbing with every brush of his tongue. "I'm gonna cum... Fuck, i'm gonna cum..." you whine.

Toji pushes your underwear to the side, and glides his tongue through your generously slicked folds once and you're instantly arching your back off the door, squirming in his hold and moaning carelessly as he sloppily makes out with your cunt. He desperately chases the sound of your pleasure-ridden voice, wanting to hear the way it raises in pitch when he strokes you just right. He doesn't want it to stop, it's been too long. Two days way too long. You tug at his hair with one hand, dragging the nails of your other hand down the door. You breathe heavily as Toji manipulates your pleasure until your thighs are trembling.

Toji pulls away and lifts your skirt off his head. He lowers your leg back down and stands up from his crouched position. He faces you with glossy lips that shine with all the juices he collected from you, some of it drooling down his chin to give him an even more messy appearance. He presses his lips to yours, making slow movements to allow you to realize what is happening while your eyes are closed. You can taste yourself on his lips as you catch the rhythm.

There's a loud smack in the last kiss before he releases you, a feral look in his green eyes as he dotes on your blissed out appearance. You look too pure for someone who's just experienced something so sinful. "Hey, look at me," he coos, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "Look at me," he repeats, staring at you as you try to catch your breath with closed eyes.

You hum, rolling your eyes open to lazily stare back at him. Your eyelids felt so heavy as you looked at him, but you liked how vigilant he was being. It made you crack a grin, a small gesture that had Toji's heart thudding a little quicker, now.

"I wanna fuck you so bad, mama." His eyes trail yours as they look away from his gaze. "If this is your reaction to my mouth, I don't even know what to expect for when I'm inside you."

You look down to see what's been poking your thigh for the past minute or so, and it's the monster in his pants, outlined for your eyes to quickly spot and everything.

"Come on," you say, reaching your hand out to him. He takes it and allows you to lead him to the bedroom.

Toji shuts the door and locks it to give the situation a deeper level of intimacy. There's no one there but the two of you and yet you feel even more secluded by the gesture.

He wasn't aggressive in the way he bared you for his eyes. He pulled you close to him by the waist, your body against his as he peeled your layers of clothes off.

"Stay," he says, when you take a step back. He takes that step towards you again, placing his hands on your hips, and snaking them around to your back to locate the zipper for your skirt. He exhales through his nose, lidded eyes watching the longing expression on your face closely as he pulls down the zipper and allows the article to fall on the floor. His fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt before he fully slides his hands beneath it, and raises it up your torso higher and higher. You put your arms up and allow him to slip it off your head.

He makes haste of getting his own clothes off, a sly smirk decorating his face when he sees you admiring him from where you sit on the end of the bed as you take off your bra and underwear. You're forced further up the bed by Toji as he inches closer and closer to you. You reach a dead end and welcome the suffocating warmth of his body as he cages you onto the bed.

"Don't do that to me again, mama," he murmurs, before leaning down to peck your lips. "Don't let me talk to myself for that long when you have such a pretty voice to respond with."

You laugh, pulling a small grin from him. "I didn't think you'd care, to be honest. I thought you'd tell me i'm being childish or ridiculous."

"Nah, princess. I thought I was gonna die."

You giggle, pulling him close again. "You're exaggerating."

"You wouldn't let me touch you. Not even when we went to bed, so it was like we were friends instead of lovers sleeping together. Especially with how far on your side you slept."

"Oh, baby," you coo, pressing multiple quick apologetic kisses to his lips. He chuckles at the affection, and his eyes close instinctively as your kisses become more widespread on his face. He missed this more than anything. "What can I do for your forgiveness, my love?"

"Just let me fuck you, ma. That's all. Give me my privilege to all of this, again." His hand slowly trails from your chest to your stomach, a touch you longed for dearly during those two days that you verbally ignored him.

"It's yours," you whisper to him. You peer up at him with your constellation eyes, silently begging him to realize how much you need him. "I'm yours, so show me the use you have for the privilege over my body, baby."

He leans down to kiss you, softly. He's desperate for you, but his lips don't falter their delicate synchrony because of it. He guides the tip of his cock through your folds, rubbing up and down the slickness a couple times before slowly sinking into you. Your ability to tangle with Toji's lips slowly deteriorates, and your focus strays to the stretching happening lower down your body, so Toji picks up the slack and feeds you his kisses.

"Come on," he groans out. Not even he is immune to the rebirth of sex with you. You're warm and inviting, and you embrace the pain and comfort he offers every time he craves you or you crave him. This time is no exception. "Kiss me back, sweetheart. Give them all to me," he mutters, before attempting to connect his lips to yours again. You dig your heels into the mattress and your toes curl as you feel his girth continue to submerge inside you.

Toji cups your chin and uses his fingers to squish your cheeks together into a makeshift pout for him to kiss. He can hear your hummed little whimpers in response to him sheathing himself further into you. He was being gentle, because hurting you is a crime in his world.

"Fuck, I missed this, mama," he says, goosebumps rising on his torso as he drags himself out of you halfway and pushes himself back in again. "So warm..." he says over the sound of your pleasured moan. He sighs, a grunt following as he starts a careful rocking rhythm into you. "I could stay inside you forever."

"I could keep you here forever," you rephrase, gazing up at him with those eyes he unequivocally loves. They've reverted back to the default loving expression you hold for him, the vacancy of your previous gaze now filled with love, excitement, lust, and overall enchantment. It's a beautiful thing to see your hurricanes subside.

He leans down to kiss you again, distributing the kisses on your face and leading them towards your neck. You could feel his abs dragging up and down your stomach with every roll of his hips against yours.

"Mmm... Toji," you moan, bringing your hands to his back. One of them moves up to the nape of his neck, threading through the dampened locks of his hair, the other traces his spine to distract you from how badly you want to dig your nails into him.

"I know," he coos, kissing the spot beneath your ear. "I know, doll. It's always this good with you."

You gasp at the feeling of his cock prodding the more sensitive area within you. "Right there, right there... Oh..." you moan out, inevitably digging your nails into his shoulder blades while Toji directs his kisses back up your neck and towards your face again so he can see the honest expression on it. You're lost in pleasure, vibrating as another orgasm rushes through you.

"Fuck, mama.. let me-" he groans, outwardly losing it at the overflow of your juices. "Let me see those pretty eyes," he pants, gripping your waist a little more harshly as he feels his cock on the brink of expelling into you. "Need you to watch me," he says, taking in the way your lips part to release your sounds of utter satisfaction. Your eyes flutter open to center on his greedy eyes. You mirror his lustful, lidded gaze, the look enough to make him spill inside you, making your cunt even sloppier. "You're gorgeous, ma," he says, mindlessly, as he fucks into you with a little more fervor. "Fucking stunning," he mutters through pants, to which you respond with a sly smirk. The gesture lured a groan out of him and made his cock twitch as he finished releasing into you.

You giggle when he stills his hips. Your combined attempts to regulate your breathing fills the silence that follows. "What're you laughing at?" He asks, massaging your hip with his thumb.

"You tell me that all the time like you're obsessed with me or something."

"And if I am?" he says with a voice so deep you have to blink to see that it's still your gentle giant of a man. "Is it too much for you? Can you handle it? Am I suffocating you, baby?" he purrs, cupping your cheeks while leaning in close to emphasize his points. All it does is allow you to closely admire how handsome he is and really think about what's happening in this moment. This green-eyed, raven-haired man, with the prettiest pointed nose and the most attractive scarred lips, is bedding you, and doing it so well.

"Never. Come closer and bite," you murmur.

He takes your lips in his again, a little more aggressive than before. You asked him to bite, and that's exactly what he's doing. The make out has him rocking both of you a little faster, working you towards yet another orgasm. You nip at his bottom lip and run your tongue over it when hisses. You hum out a little giggle, and moan into his mouth when he jolts into you.

"God, i'll bust again if you keep doing that. I'm serious, mama" he groans, swiping his tongue over his stinging bottom lip. You think he's being dramatic so when he leans down to kiss you again, you bite his bottom lip and suck on it. You gasp, releasing his lip and stare at him with wide eyes as his excessive warmth spurts into your cunt, filling it to the brim and beyond, to the point of leakage.

"F-Fuck... you're terrible," he groans, shuddering with tense abdominal muscles as he lures the entirety of his orgasm out. "Cum," he says, panting as he picks up the pace of his rutting to get you to follow his orgasm. "I can feel you clenching around me like hell. I know you want to," he says, reaching a hand between you and him to stimulate your clit.

Your already labored breathing picks up and your heart is pounding in your ears aggressively as you roll your hips back against his. You whimper as you feel your peak get closer and closer, a cried out and breathy "fuck!" leaving you when it arrives, followed by high pitched moans that make Toji's heart race. You arched your back off the mattress as you reached the zenith of your orgasm with the help of Toji's finger rapidly rubbing your clit while he maintained his satisfying pace inside you.

You whimper, slapping a hand onto Toji's wrist to stop his movements on you. He smirks at the sight of your trembling thighs, your heaving chest, and the sound of your dazed hums. You always were such a delicate thing. So fragile that even with just enough of his attention, he could break you.

"Tired yet?" He asks, admiring your relaxed facial features. You nod with your eyes closed, your lips parted to release little puffs of air. "Thought you'd be. I'll go grab some towels for us to shower." He pulls out of you, taking a moment to admire your collaborative masterpiece.

"Baby..." you whine, sitting up when you feel his weight lift off the bed. "I can't get up." You dramatically let yourself fall back on the bed and stick your tongue out to portray your exhaustion.

"Get up, you faker. That's all you have to do and i'll take care of the rest."

"Too tired to wash myself right now..." you say, waking up for a second before closing your eyes again. Toji can see the sly grin on your face and the little shake of your stomach as you stifle your giggles.

"Guess you're too tired to eat, too, huh? You know i've got a huge appetite, and I could eat all that food you brought by myself."

"You wouldn't," you say, abruptly sitting up on the bed and squinting at him. "There's enough to feed three people in those bags."

"I've got the stomach of three people in one, so you better catch up before you're left with my seconds."

You sigh, too tired to move, but you get up anyway and trail behind Toji. "Baby, can you pleeease clean me up? I'm beat."

He puts his hands on your shoulders as he now walks behind you. "Sure, but don't complain when I take longer on certain areas."

[kaizynofsickness]

"hahh, baby, please... 'm sorry." Satoru whines under you, his cock leaking so much pre cum it was absolutely torturous. It's been like this for hours on end, he just wanted to cum so bad.

You keep telling him this was his punishment for hanging around with some low-leveled bitch. You normally are able to keep your cool, but you had to remind him whose pussy he cries over almost every night, who he cums in like a pathetic whore. And that's exactly what he was doing, his hands tied behind his back and his blindfold around his neck, hanging loosely. Every muscle in his body is twitching with every torturous slow thrust as you kept hopping up and down on his cock. He could feel you so well, burying his dick inside of you just to keep him there and tease him. He felt you leaking all over him, down to his balls and on the sheets, knowing damn well you want this as much as he does.

You weren't talking to him. You didn't say anything to him, no matter how much he begged you. It was like he was fucking a fleshlight, the only difference is you were dripping and moaning, clenching around him so deliciously.

"baby—nnggh!" His eyes were on the back of his head, his tongue sticking out like a true slut, like he was taking a porn shot. "Faster, go fucking faster..." He groans, getting fussy. It wasn't like he couldn't break from these ropes, he just knew he deserved what he was getting. He made his baby so jealous of a woman that didn't even see the real him, he should be punished like this.

"do I need to put your blindfold inside your mouth for you to actually shut up?" Your words were cold, you sounded so upset as if you weren't being impaled on his cock right now, as if you weren't leaking every single drop of arousal out of your cunt, squelching. "You're so f-fuckin' bipolar... wanna be s' strong n' shit." You lazily growl as you watch his cock disappear and reappear inside of you. A smirk forms on your face.

"tell me it's only me who you want."

Satoru was quick to say exactly what you wanted; "i-it is, baby, it is! I don't want no other woman, no one else but you. Only y'er pussy around me, only you, m' pretty girl..." He rambles uselessly, bucking his hips up into your hole, thinking he finally earned his orgasm.

You could feel your heart finally being tugged by his precious words from every single pet name he was calling you. You let your full body weight sink down until his lap, finally allowing his cock to travel inside the deepest areas. You could feel the tip pressing against your cervix, that precious prominent vein stroking against your g-spot at last. You lower your head into the crook of his neck, and that's when you can hear the snap of the ropes around his wrist.

"finally, pretty baby..." he seems to be an absolute bliss, growling almost as he holds onto your hips, preparing to hammer you down on his dick. "Can I give it to you? Can I finally fuck that cunt full of cum? Show you how I would only treat you, what everyone else is is missing out on?"

You feverishly nod, feeling the after effects of you teasing yourself. "Yeah, 'toru. Gimmie it. Fuck me."

You of course did not need to tell him twice. His hands gripped you firmly and held onto your ass before he started to lift you off his cock effortlessly, slamming you back down. He couldn't help but moan like a bitch when he hit inside that pussy, feeling all your juices splashing on him, able to feel your sticky mess properly. He leaned his head on the bed board and allowed his hands to have a mind of their own, taking his time to listen to every euphoric moan that escaped your sweet lips. The pleasure was killing him, something he was waiting for to finally feel. He couldn't help it when he was about to cum already.

He held himself back to make sure you were able to squirt and cream all over his cock before he finally filled you up.

He was so tired of edging he couldn't even be able to tease you and talk dirty to you like he normally would, being that perverted bastard he was. Satoru started to make you bounce up and down faster, your boobs pressing against his face, able to feel the soft flesh under his chin and on his chest. he had a pussy drunk smirk on his face as he saw the lewd expression you had, so ahego like from one of those hentia films.

All his, and he was all yours.

At some point he couldn't handle it no more, he actually completely dropped all of his dignity and his cock twitched stupidly inside your sopping cunt, moaning loud for you. "Come on, don't make me—" Satoru blabbered uselessly to himself.

You have no idea what he was telling you to do, as if the sounds of his balls slapping your skin wasn't loud enough to distract all of your thoughts. You felt a knot in your stomach, the familiar sensation as your cunt started to clench like you wanted to strangle his cock and keep it inside. You finally understand; you're both about to cum at the same time, sharing such a pleasure.

"'toru, 'm right there, keep going!" You panted like a dog in heat desperately, your nails clawing into his shoulders and making tiny crescent shapes. Your moans went right into his red ears, making his eyes shut in pleasure.

Satoru allowed himself to soak up every clench that your cunt delivered to his cock, wet walls stroking his veins. He nods vastly as he pumped you, currently helping you both reach your precious orgasms. "Yesyesyes, cum for me, pretty girl, make a mess with me." He starts to drool.

Your back arches, your breast flushed against his chest as you started to flutter around his cock, the way your face twists in pleasure made his mind fog and balls tighten, his body giving in.

Along with you, white ropes of seed paint inside your walls, both of your moans mixing in the sex filled room. He lets his cock warm inside your walls as you squeeze out your last drops of sweet cum onto him, making sounds and cooing. "Oh, take it all, baby, fuuuck me."

He gazes at you, smirking slightly and cupping your cheeks. You looked so cute like that, face all red and the tip of your tongue out, eyes dewy from unleashed tears, lashes wet. He plants a sweet kiss on your lips, taking in all your heavy breathing.

"just because you made me cum doesn't mean I forgive you." You breathlessly warn him. He rolled his eyes at his salty you were still being, kissing the corner of your lips just to keep close to your pretty fucked out face. "If I make you cum again, will you forgive me baby?"

"or do you just wanna use my pussy?" You quickly retort.

"you act as if you don't spell your name on my cock all night. I'm yours, and you're mine."

˚꩜⋆.°⭑Do not copy, translate, or steel in any way, reblogs are appreciated and allowed.

I'm back on Tumblr again!

[russellsppttemplates]

We don't know anything about girls! (Oscar Piastri)

Lucas and Jack take the job of protecting their sister very seriously

Note: english is not my first language. Another Oscar piece, and this time it's dad!Oscar 🥹✨️🤍

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: reader is pregnant, childbirth, postpartum

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Daddy, we have a question for you", Lucas said as he and Jack sat at the table, ready to have lunch.

"Sure, what is it you want to ask me?", Oscar offered as he served up their plates with some broccoli, pasta and salmon.

"Mummy is the one that had us, right? We were both on her tummy - not at the same time though - and then she had us", Lucas wondered.

"Yes, mummy was the one that grew you in her tummy", Oscar smiled as he remembered both of your pregnancies. He knew it wasn't comfortable all the time, and there were many instances where you didn't feel so good, but he would spend the whole time in awe at you and what your body was doing for your family.

"Okay, so we have to talk to mummy", Jack reasoned with Lucas, who nodded back at him.

"Why do you need mummy, was my answer not enough?", Oscar wondered.

"It was enough, daddy, don't worry! But if we want a baby brother or sister, we have to talk to mummy first", Lucas stated as if he was saying they were going to ask you to change their bedroom curtains.

"You want a sibling?", Oscar questioned them both, wondering if they had been eavesdropping on you and him.

When one of Oscar's sisters had her baby a couple of months ago, you and Oscar both felt like adding another one to your flock, discussing it in bed that night. It wouldn't be so bad, especially now that both your and Oscar's careers were settled and your schedules were far more predictable. The boys seemed to think the same.

"Yes, do you think mummy will like the idea? She always said her feet hurt a little when it was towards the end", Lucas tsked, "and you, daddy? Would you like to have a another baby?", he wondered.

"Yes, I would - I'll tell you what, when mummy gets home from work, we can ask her about it, okay?", Oscar suggested, seeing the boys agree before eating the food in their plates, smiling to himself at the possibility of your growing family.

By the time you got home, you were just about to catch Oscar putting the boys down for the night, "night night, boys, I hope you have sweet dreams", you kissed both of their foreheads.

"We need to talk to you tomorrow, mummy, we have something to ask you", Lucas offered.

"Okay, it can wait until tomorrow, buddy - sleep tight!", you combed his hair with your fingers.

Closing the door behind you, you walked up to your bedroom, starting to get rid of your work clothes, "Osc? Can you help me with these buttons, please? I can't even lift my arms", you groaned, "I'm so tired".

Your heard your husband's feet pad out of the ensuite bathroom and approach you, his fingers undoing the buttons at the nape of your neck so you could take the shirt off.

"There you go, love", he offered, leaving a kiss in there.

"Thank you - both for this and for doing the nightime routine with the boys, I'm sorry I couldn't be home earlier, but the last lady had this nasty contracture that wouldn't go anywhere no matter how much I pulled and worked every trick of the book", you sighed as you grabbed your pyjamas from under your pillow so you could put them on.

"Don't worry - it was all fine", Oscar assured, "you did miss the quesion they wany to ask you tomorrow though".

"Is it something for school?", you wondered, getting up from the bed with only one leg of your pyjama pants on.

"No, it's not - you can't do anything about it, not now anyway", your husband chuckled as he watched you quirk your eyebrow.

"Do I want to know what it is about? You're scaring me a little", you mused.

"The boys want to ask you for a little brother or sister", Oscar stated, "they checked with me to know if you were the point person they should go to".

"Because I'm the only one?", you giggled, adjusting the sleeves on your shirt so you could wash your face and brush your teeth.

"You grew them in your tummy, and Lucas remembered how much your feet hurt so they want to know if you would be comfortable with having another one", Oscar offered, getting in the bed and pulling the comforter up to his waist.

"You're saying that as if it only takes me to make a baby", you spoke after spitting the toothpaste on the sink, wiping your mouth on the towell to get rid of the remnants.

"They said it like that, not me - but to be fair, they did ask if I would like to have another baby", he added.

Rubbing the cream on your cheeks, you walked back to the bedroom area, turning the light off with your elbow before you sat down next to Oscar, "it's cute, though, that they don't want to just go and ask for a sibling because they understand it's not like that", you said as you snapped your fingers.

"Would you? We talked about it a while ago, but then you had the check-ups and the doctor advised us to not go for it yet until we knew for sure you were all good", Oscar mused, grabbing your hand and playing with your fingers on his lap.

"Yes, I think I would. We know I'm all good and all my parts are working just fine, so I'm in if you are", you replied back.

"I'm in too, I miss having a little baby and the sight of you carrying our baby", he smirked, "and the process of making a baby is very fun".

"Oscar!", you swatted his chest.

"We're always telling the boys they should always tell the truth - was I supposed to lie?", he defended himself.

.

"Don't fall asleep, Jack, okay?", you said as you noticed your son nearly falling asleep on his car seat, "we're almost home, love!".

"I wasn't falling asleep", he admitted, blushing at having been caught with his eyes closed and his cheek on his shoulder.

"I know you weren't, but I just wanted to check anyway", you winked through the rearview mirror, playing along with him.

On the days Lucas had violin practice, Oscar was the one to take him there from school and then back home, which meant you only had to pick Jack up from pre-school before going home, which also allowed each of the boys to have one on one time with you.

Encouraging Jack to stick to his routine, you watched him hang his jacket and leave his shoes on the wardrobe by the door before he took hi backpack to the kitchen so he could empty the snack box.

"Are you not feeling better, mummy?", Jack asked you as he walked inside the kitchen, noticing the bag from the pharmacy on the counter, "did the doctor give you medicine to take?".

"I'm feeling so and so, but the doctor at the pharmacy told me something else", you crouched down so you could be at the same level as your son, "can you keep a secret?".

Jack nodded eagerly, showing you his ear so you could only tell him the secret before he realise you two were alone, "Oh, we don't need to whisper, and this way you won't tickle my ear", he admitted with a blush, "tell me, mummy!".

"Mummy hasn't been feeling well, and when I spoke to the doctor at the pharmacy, she seemed to think that maybe I have a baby in my tummy", you smiled, "I need to take a test to know for sure".

"A baby? The one me and Lucas asked you and daddy for?", he beamed.

"Yes, that one - should I take the tests now?", you grabbed the boxes from the bag.

"Yes, mummy, yes! How do you do it?", he wondered.

"Mummy needs to go to the bathroom", you tapped his nose, "I'll open the door as soon as I'm done, okay?", you offered before stepping inside the service bathroom by the stairs.

"Are you okay, mummy? Do you want help?", Jack asked as you could hear him walk along the corridor.

"I'm nearly done, Jack, just need to clean a little mess up I did here", you offered, doing what you needed to do and complying with all the instructions.

"It's okay, mummy, I also make a mess sometimes and you always tell me that as long as I clean up after myself, it's okay", he comforted you.

Giggling to yourself at his words, you washed your hands again before opening the door, revealing Jack waiting for you.

"When do we know?", your son asked as he looked at the plastic tests by the sink.

"In a few minutes", you answered.

"Will you be sad if it says you're just sick?", Jack muttered.

"Well, you and Lucas asked for a sibling some time ago and it would be nice if it was actually the case, right?", you tested the waters, now wondering if it was the right move to tell Jack what you were doing. You felt like you could deal with the negative result should it be the one to come up, but maybe your little boy wouldn't.

"I really want a baby brother or sister, and I know Lucas also wants one a lot, but we can wait", he offered, almost sounding like a grown up while he grabbed your hand.

Once the timer on your watch beeped, you turned the tests around checking for their validity before looking at the result.

"Are you pregnant or are you sick, mummy?", Jack questioned, looking at the tests on your hands, "what does it mean?".

"This means I'm pregnant, Jack", you smiled before setting the tests down once he jumped on your arms.

"I'm going to be a big brother!", he squealed, hugging you tightly.

"You are, buddy - are you excited?", you mused.

"I am! I can't wait to tell daddy and Lucas!", Jack smiled back at you.

Setting him back down on the floor, you grabbed the tests, "we could surprise them with something funny - what do you think?", you suggested, heading with him to the playroom so you could get started on it.

Oscar and Lucas arrived just as you were finishing the last touches of the surprise, calling your names.

"We're upstairs in the playroom!", you called back before turning to Jack, "you have to wait for Lucas or daddy to read your t-shirt, okay?".

Lucas was the first to get to the room, coming up to you to hug you and kiss your cheek, "and the teacher said I did really well!".

"That's amazing, buddy!", you congratulated after he told you all about his day.

"Hello, guys!", Oscar greeted, and judging by the bottle of water on his hands, he has stopped by the kitchen before he joined you, "how was your day?", kissing Jack's cheek.

"We didn't do anything special - it was like every day that mummy picked me up while Lucas was at his lessons", Jack told in a nonchalant way, earning a wondering expression on your husband's face as he looked you.

You shrugged your shoulders and kissed Oscar's lips, letting him press his lips on your forehead right after.

"Do you feel better? You don't look so bad anymore", he reasoned as he rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs.

"Geez, thank you, Oscar", you chuckled, "but I feel good now", you smiled.

Lucas looked intrigued as he looked at Jack, "why does his t-shirt say he has an expiring date? What's an expiring date, daddy?", he asked as he pointed.

"I'm no longer the little one!", Jack yelled excitedly, leaving Oscar and Lucas a little lost.

"We know you're grown up, buddy - It's when something is not good anymore or when it has an end date...", Oscar offered.

"No, daddy, you're not getting it! I'm no longer the little brother of the family because mummy has one inside her tummy!", he clarified.

Lucas gasped before he ran to you, hugging your legs and resting his cheek on your tummy, "is it true?".

"Yes, love - we're going to have another baby in the family!", you smiled, brushing his hair with your fingers before you felt Jack hug your side.

"I guess there's only me left then", Oscar gestured, hugging you from your back and resting his hands on your tummy, "we're having another baby, Y/N, I love you", he kissed your cheek, hugging you tightly.

Once Jack pulled away, Oscar finally got a proper glimpse of the t-shirt that stated the announcement, reading at the "Little brother: expiring date in some months!" t-shirt the little boy wore.

"Did you do this just now? Since when do you know?", Oscar mused, now finally getting ti hug you properly since the boys had let you go.

"Mummy took the tests when he got home, and then we came here to cut the print and iron letters", Jack offered.

"Yes, not long, I'm not sure it has settled in yet", you mumbled, "another little one, Osc, I love you", you kissed his lips.

.

"Boys, remember what we told you, okay? People are healing and resting, so we have to be quiet and be on our best behaviour, okay?", you checked with them as they got out of the car.

"We will, mummy", Lucas assured you while he held his hand with Jack's, keeping him close as he held Oscar's hand with the other one.

You registered yourself in and then were led to the right exam room, following the orders to lay on the bed and lift your top.

"The bump is bigger, isn't it?", Jack asked as his curious hands touched your skin, stroking it and taking the opportunity to leave a few kisses there.

"It is, little one is growing very well!", Oscar offered.

A knock on the door alerted you to it, seeing the technician step inside the room, "Good morning! How is everyone feeling today?", she asked.

"Hello! We're here to see if we're getting a baby sister or a baby brother!", Lucas offered as he swung his legs on the chair.

"That's right! Are you ready, Y/N?", she asked you with a rub on your shoulder before pulling the kart with the ultrasound machine and laptop with her and sitting on the stool next to your bed.

"Yes, very ready and very excited", you smiled.

"Which one do you think they are, baby brother or baby sister?", the technician asked your boys while squeezing the gel on your tummy.

"Come here, sit on daddy's leg instead of mummy's lap so we can see the baby on the screen there", Oscar explained to Jack.

"I don't know, we're both boys, what is that thing that nana always says? It's like there's always a third", Lucas tapped Oscar's arm as he sat next to them.

"Nana always says that there isn't a second without a third", Oscar clarified, "usually means that when there is a second one, there's always a third one".

"So you think it's a boy?", the technician hummed, moving the wand around, "well, your mummy will still be outnumbered by you guys, but she'll have a little friend to help her! You're having a babygirl!", she smiled, showing you the screen.

"A baby sister?", Jack looked at the screen, "wow, she's so tiny - is that her nose?", he pointed.

"Yes, that's her nose, then these are her legs - they look really strong!", she showed him while Oscar winked at you with a big smile on his face.

"Woah", Lucas mused as he looked at the screen, "how long until she comes out of mummy's belly?".

"That is still many weeks away, Lucas - she needs to stay inside to grow healthy and happy!", the technician explained as she wiped the gel from your belly, "I just sent the scans to the printer down the hall - if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to get them".

After she closed the door behind her, the boys jumped on the bed, hugging your sat up body.

"Can you believe we're having a little girl? A mini you?", Oscar stated as he followed your kids, standing up in front of you so he could kiss your lips.

"These two look like you - I deserve a mini me", you giggled, "Oh My Goodness, a little Piastri girl".

"Uh oh", Lucas said, making you look for any issue or trouble.

"What is it, Lucas?", you wondered.

"We don't know anything about girls!!", he said in a concerned tone.

"We're both boys!", Jack followed in agreement.

"You know Tilly and Lottie pretty well, it's not like you haven't been around girls", Oscar reasoned, not wanting them to feel dismissed as you tried your best to contain your laughter.

"We have to ask Fraser the next time we are all at a race - he definitely knows what to do!", Lucas pointed out.

.

"At least she's comfy - one of us is, anyway", you sighed as Oscar's hands helped you settle in a better position on the examination bed.

"I know we've discussed this with you before, so you probably know that this is the time we talked about. Little one is fully developed now, and she seems like a big girl from our calculations and scans, so I think that now, more than ever you should really think about inducing", your doctor stated.

With Lucas and Jack, the birth was pretty straight forward. The waters broke at home, you went to the hospital when the contractions were closer together and after some pushes, you were happily holding your baby boys.

Your baby girl seemed to have other ideas.

"We wanted to wait for her in her timing, but we understand that that option is no longer viable", Oscar nodded. The team had gone over your exams and they all agreed that induction was looking like the best option so both you and baby Piastri could be happy, safe and healthy.

Squeezing your hand in his, Oscar gave you a reassuring look before you spoke, "we've talked about it, but at the end of the day what matters is that we are both okay, so we'll do the induction. When can we do it?", you asked.

"Well, since it's early and you've only had breakfast, if you go up now, we can settle you in and start the process while your husband gets your things from home if you'd like - your baby is in a good position and we don't foresee any issues to a vaginal delivery", she smiled soflty as she signed a few papers, before handing them to you to sign too.

"Might as well get this show on the road, hm?", you looked at Oscar, "I'll call my parents to let them know".

"Okay, sweetheart", Oscar said before he kissed your forehead, "I'll meet you upstairs, okay? And you, little miss, don't show up before I'm back, okay?", he left a kiss on your baby bump.

"I think it's established that she isn't in any sort of rush", you chuckled, kissing his lips one last time before you parted ways.

While Oscar went home to grab the hospital bags you had prepared, you went up to the labour ward with your midwife Lisa, who happened to be on shift that day.

Checking you in your room, she helped you get comfortable before starting the induction process, "like we talked about, for some women this is a quick process and for some it is a long one. Any way this goes, though, we are all here to help you", she smiled soflty.

Someone knocked on the door, making Lisa look at all the supplies she had and checking if anything was missing until she noticed it was Oscar.

"Hi Lisa, how are you?", he greeted her with a hug before he came to check on you, leaving the bags in their designated area.

"Hello! I'm good, excited to help your little girl come into the world", Lisa smiled.

"And you, my love, are you doing okay?", he asked, looking at the monitor on your bump.

"I'm good, so far so good, and better now that you're here", you pointed a finger on his chest as he approached you.

Chuckling, Oscar kissed your forehead before sitting in the room you made for him, mindful of all the wires connected to you, "did everything get sorted out with your parents?".

"Yes, they'll pick the boys up and look after them - dad told me not to worry about anyone else but me and little princess", you smiled. In the last two births, the first person your father looked for when he stepped into the room was you, claiming that he looked for the person that was already there from before and that he needed to know his daughter was okay.

"I can't believe that this is happening soon, that we're going to have our baby girl in our arms", he said as he did his best to rub your bump despite the wires and monitors that were ensuring you were both doing well.

"Seems like it was yesterday that I was taking a test with Jack on the other side of the door asking me if I needed help", you giggled, "but I'm very excited to have our baby and see who she takes after - I may be too hopeful, but I have a feeling that she might look a little bit more like me", you snickered, "I did all the hard work for nine months and a bit - three times now! I think it's about time this baby comes out looking a little more Y/L/N-y and a little less Piastri-y".

"My genetics have proved to be quite strong, if we are being honest, but I'm also hoping for a little you", Oscar offered as he felt your tightening taut skin under his hand, "was that a contraction?", he said looking at you.

"I think this is the water breaking, do you remember that prickle feeling I told you about in Lucas'? It's like that - oh!", you gasped, "there it goes".

Oscar helped you get up from the bed so you could dry yourself before removing the disposable liner Lisa had laid down for that purpose.

Helping you change into the hospital gown, your husband called the midwife like she had asked you to do, "the waters have broken already? This is good news, means everything is going like it's supposed to, especially ", she said when she looked at the graphs for the CTG machine, checking your vitals too before she left the room again once everything was fine.

When contractions started picking up, Oscar was quick to tend to your every need, walking with you when you felt like movement would do you good before you settled in swaying your hips, your back against his chest while you almost danced around the room, "this is like that time Lando made us dance at the McLaren party", you muttered in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"We're much better now, I think - and you look even more beautiful", he mused, kissing the top of your head.

"Oh, there's another one", you said as you felt the tension on your bump, making you stop and somehow turn around before it got too bad, the new position allowing you to face Oscar as your arm stretched around his neck, your hands lacing at the nape of his neck so you could drop your hips to relieve the pressure from the intense feeling on your torso as you waited for it to pass, your husband's kisses and words of encouragement doing a good job at distracting you from it.

"Do you feel comfortable here or do you want to move to the bed, love? I don't want you to tire yourself more than you are", he expressed his concern as he held you.

"Can I stay here? I like being on your hold and standing up helps, I think", you looked for his approval as you felt his arms ease some of your weight on his neck.

Oscar nodded his head as he kept swaying you around, "Of course, I'm here for you, whatever you need I'll help", he prompted as your neck stretched slightly so you could kiss his jaw, mumbling an I love you to him before concentrating on your breathing again.

Knocking on the door, Lisa excused herself inside and asked how you were doing before checking your dilation, "You're doing really well, Y/N, you're 6 centimetres dilated already! This is going quite quickly I must say", she said and you smiled.

Oscar placed a proud kiss on your forehead while you heard Lisa tell you what to expect in the next few hours, "Do you want an epidural?", she asked.

"I think I'm doing fine without it, but I'll call if it gets too bad", you replied before she nodded and left to tend to the other birthing patients.

Hours later, Oscar had now turned to apply pressure on your lower back with his hands when it started getting a bit harder for you, your elbows on the mattress as you rocked your hips side to side, the interval between contractions now so short you barely had time to rest between them, "I feel like I need to push, my body is telling me to push", you said to Lisa and the nurse that were checking you.

"Why don't you sit on the bed so we can see how things are progressing?", one of them offered as your husband helped you lay down, his hand never leaving yours, "You're crowing, Y/N! It's time to meet your baby!", Lisa announced as she got in position.

"All good, Y/N? I know it hurts, but I also know you have got this", your husband whispered as he positioned himself so he could be right by your side.

"Y/N, when you feel the urge to push, do it okay?", the health professional urged you as you nodded, "your babygirl is ready to come out and everything looks good for her!".

Holding Oscar's hand and squeezing it, you cried and grunted slightly, hearing Lisa announce that the head was out and you needed to do a big push for the shoulders, "this could be a good sign for mini me - my mum always said I had a big head", you groaned.

"C'mon, Y/N, big push", the nurse encouraged as you felt Oscar's lips by your ear, "I know you can do this darling, just two more pushes and our baby girl is here", he said and you did what your body told you, pushing and breathing until your baby was out in the world.

Sitting back against the pillows, the nurses lifted the little girl and after a few taps on her pink cheek, she let out a high pitch scream both you and Oscar were sure to remember for the rest of your lives.

"She's here, Y/N, congratulations mummy and daddy", Lisa said as she placed the baby on your chest.

The baby girl your's and Oscar's love, along with the one from your family, produced was finally here. Pushing your gown to the side, you uncovered your chest as they placed her down, the skin to skin contact soothing her cries immediately, "Hello my love, I'm your mummy", you said as tears gathered in your eyes, your finger coming to stroke her pink chubby cheek as you admired her.

"She looks a lot like you, I think we've nailed the mini you, love", Oscar said between tears.

"That is daddy, I'm sure you recognise his voice too", you cooed, "we've been waiting for you for so long, and you're finally here".

Oscar kissed the top of your head before kissing the top of the little girl's head.

"Hi princess Isabella, we're so happy you're finally here", he said tearfully as he stretched his finger so your daughter could grab it between hee much smaller ones.

"Now we're gonna need to take little Isabella - such a beautiful name - to check everything while you deliver the rest, okay?", one of the nurses said and you extended your arms so she could grab her.

Oscar looked over to the nurses' station as they measured and weighed the baby before he looked down to you on the bed, "Thank you for making me a father again, I love you both so much, my love", he said with loving and still a bit teary eyes, grabbing your hand in his and kissing them before touching your forehead lovingly.

"I love you so much, Oscar", you whispered and you kissed his hand that was caressing your cheek, "there's no one else I'd be a parent with".

After delivering the placenta and having your baby girl back in your chest, Oscar couldn't stop the overwhelming surge of feelings in his chest. He was so happy and grateful for you and at the prospect of the life he had yet to fill with memories with your family.

.

When you were finally able to bring Isabella home, the boys were the best behaved you had ever seen them. They weren't troublemakers, and from what you heard the other parents share whenever you waited for the kids outside the school gate, they definitely were a breeze compared to the stories you heard, but this was new.

"I'll fill this up for you, mummy", Lucas stated, grabbing the water bottle you kept near you ti make sure you were drinking enough and helping your milk supply.

"Thank you, buddy", you smiled, adjusting Isabella's head so she could have a better latch.

"Here are the nappies for Isa", Jack offered as he carried the unopened packet he offered to get from the nursery so you could refill the caddy you kept in the living room.

"Thank you, Jack, that's very helpful", you smiled as Oscar sat next to you, "they're being so helpful, it's so cute", you mused.

"Before you came home, they helped me and your parents tidy up and they promise your dad they would be on their best behaviour", your husband mused, kissing your shoulder and looking at your daughter as she suckled on your nipple, never getting tired of watching her beautiful face.

"At what time did Lando say he was coming to visit?", you asked, squinting to look at the time on the TV.

"He said he'd be here in an hour or so, and then his wife and the kids would come later after she got them from school", Oscar mused, "here, let me burp her", he said.

Wiping the corners of Isabella's lips, you kissed her forehead before letting her go to Oscar's arms, watching his tap her back to get all the wind out before she looked ready to fall asleep.

"Mummy is going to have a shower, so you two be good, okay?", you told the boys before you headed up.

Oscar was resting his eyes when his phone alerted to who the car he heard outside belonged to, making him get up and open the door to find Lando.

"Well, hello there, Oscar, and little Isabella, hello darling", he cooed, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

"Uncle Lando!", the boys cheered quietly, hugging his legs and letting him ruffle their hair.

"Where's your mummy?", Lando asked, "I brought this goodie bag with all things for postpartum fun! We got one of these from my sisters when we had Lottie and it helped a lot".

"She's upstairs, she said she was going to have a shower and my bet is that she's taking a nap", Oscar added, letting Lando sit before he could pass the little bundle of joy to his arms.

"Hello, little princess, aren't you a cutie", Lando said as he looked at the youngest Piastri.

"You have to support her head, like this", Lucas advised the father of three - soon to be four.

"I know, buddy, thank you for your help", Lando smiled at his protectiveness, letting the boys sit on either side of him.

"She doesn't like when her hands aren't covered - let me fix it", Jack offered before he pulled on the blanket around his sister's hands.

"They're both like this all the time?", Lando wondered as Oscar nodded.

"They don't let anyone else touch her without them being near - only me and Y/N get to keep her to ourselves", Oscar chuckled.

"Oh, she's fussing, daddy!", Jack alerted him.

As if on cue, you walked downstairs and into the living room as Lando was up, trying to soothe the little girl, "it's alright, uncle Lando is here, Isabella", you heard him tell her gently.

"Hello", you greeted as all eyes landed on you.

"Yeah, that's your mummy, babygirl", Lando assured, "and you want her, don't you? I can't compete with your mummy, can I?", he said as he walked closer to you, giving your daughter back so she could cuddle into your chest before he squeezed your arm.

"Thank you", you smiled, "you met uncle Lala, babygirl?", you mused, stroking her cheek and feeling her cries soothe down.

"Just about, yes - your boys surely have the protective older brother thing down", the british driver giggled.

"They're already the best big brothers and she has only been with us for a couple of days", you smiled.

[inkdrinkerworld]

I saw you're looking for more post prison spencer and sunshine reader!

What about sunshine reader having a badass moment and save spencer from an unsub? Spence would definitely be worried but amazed at the same time

Only if you want to write it haha thanks! I love your writing always ❤️ 💕

cw: mentions of episode '300' and Spencer and Garcia being taken by the cult. Spencer suffers from a busted lip, broken nose and being in love, so does the reader :)

You were cold with worry and anger. They’d taken Spencer and Penelope from right under your nose. You were gone twenty minutes and the entire BAU is shut down and ripped open because they’re gone. 

Then Penelope came back, disheveled and shaking and you were seeing red. “We’ll find him, Penny.” You whisper to her as you strap your kevlar vest on and set your guns to your hips and boot. 

“Be safe.” She says, gaze wild as Tara ushers her to a seat and you all begin filing out to an SUV. 

When you get to the field, you can hear Spencer talking but you’re not focused on that. 

Emily would have you sit down in her office after this is all over to tell you that you were militant and that you probably hadn’t done everything by the book, but you don’t care. 

You take down two of the guards Ben’s believers have hovering the entrances, and you wait till you catch Spencer’s eyes before breathing out slowly. 

Emily and Matt cover your sides as you sneak around to the back of their altar. 

You’re moving outside of your body, your mind just focused on freeing Spencer and getting to him safely. You just feel your body, using your training to knock them out rather than shoot at them. 

“FBI,” JJ announces and then the gunfire ensues. 

You’re aware of taking down two more members of the believers who try aiming their guns at you and Spencer before Emily, Luke and Tara are barking orders. 

“Hands where we can see them. Everybody on the ground!” Your ears feel stuffed with cotton, all you can see is Spencer; his face bruised and his nose looking a little more crooked than it usually is. 

You cut Spencer free of the rope, arms around his neck as you hold him close. 

“They burst your lip.” Your hands bury themselves in his hair, holding his face close to your shoulder. 

“I’m okay,” he whispers back. Eyes closed and breathing you in. “How’s Penelope?” 

You sigh, “She’s okay, a little shaken up but I’m gonna call her. Let her know we saved you.” 

He breathes a laugh through his nose, pulling away and finding you more worried than he’d expected. 

“It’s not the first time I’ve been with them.” You know Spencer’s trying to make this situation seem lighter but your frown worsens. 

“Spencer, that is not the comforting thought you think it is.” 

He laughs outright this time, walking with you back to the SUV. You call Penelope as soon as you’re back in the car. 

“Hey Pen, we got him and we’re on our way back to you.” She breathes a long sigh over the phone. 

“I’m okay Garcia, thank you for helping save me.” 

The phone call doesn’t last much longer, and you use the time to just stare at Spencer as you sit next to each other in the back. 

“They broke your nose. And you’re going to mottle on your pretty cheekbones.” 

Spencer rolls his eyes. “I set it already, plus the bruising can be helped if I ice.” 

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, your hands hovering near Spencer’s face. He leans into your hand and you smile, your thumb grazing his bottom lip and your index finger brushing his nose. 

“You should take martial arts classes,” you say softly. 

“I don’t like cardio, not that type anyway.” He says the last part so quietly you almost miss it, but you choke on your gasp all the same. 

“It would help stop all these abductions. You could disarm your attacker much easier if you did,” 

“Jiu jitsu, I know. It’s too coordinated and I’m too clunky at that sort of stuff.” 

Your eyes glint with mischief as you pull away your hands from his face. “But you’re good at other types of cardio?” 

He smiles, his dimples popping out making you want to poke his cheek. 

“How’re you feeling? No shaking with the adrenaline comedown?” Spencer deviates from your loaded question with one of his own. His eyes scan your entire body, focusing on your eyes and your hands. 

“I’m just tired now, Spence. Kicking ass is tough. Is the adrenaline supposed to do that?” He nods, you lean your head on his shoulder. 

“Yeah, you can sleep but I think it might be better to stay awake so you can do your reports once we get to Quantico.” Spencer knows how anal you are about doing your reports right after wrapping a case when the memories and details are fresh and unstained by how you wish things went. 

“No, I can do it. I won’t forget it if I sleep,” you yawn. “Plus, I could feel your eyes on me the entire time so you can look it over to make sure I didn’t miss any details.” 

Spencer laughs, Emily and Luke filing into the SUV as he strokes your arm, lulling you closer to sleep. 

“You’re ridiculous, but I’ll look it over for you, sweet girl. Get some sleep.” 

Emily cuts Spencer a look from the rear-view mirror that has his cheeks flushing but he ignores it in favor of setting his cheek to your head and closing his eyes as well; the smell of you flooding his senses as he starts dozing off.

[standfucker]

Post-Injury Hurt/Comfort Series - Monster Trio

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

Reader: GN

Word Count: 3.3k

CW: blood, gore, graphic depictions of injury, stitches

Ao3 Link

After writing The Break, I've always wanted to do drabbles of the same scenario for other characters, so here we are. ( 0v0)/

Luffy

It happens in an instant. One moment, you’ve brought your mace down on the head of the lion Zoan, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. You collapse next to his body, exhausted from the fight.

The next moment, the lion Zoan lunges at you from the floor, one massive paw smashing into your face with all the strength of their devil fruit, sickle claws tearing your flesh open.

You go flying. You hit the ground hard, leaving a smear of blood from your body skidding. Dazed, you try and get your bearings, berating yourself for letting your guard down early, praying it didn’t cost you the fight. The lion Zoan snarls and charges you.

“Gum-Gum Whip!”

The sight of your captain intercepting your opponent brings a heavy relief–if Luffy’s finished with his own opponent, that means your part is done, too. You can finally catch your breath.

With the rest comes the dull, burning pain across your face. The enemy mostly got you in the nose and mouth, miraculously missing your eyes. Blood runs from your nose and mouth and drips from your chin, bleeding as heavily as a head wound. Still, you’re not too concerned. It’s only when the rest of the crew catches up to you and you try to talk that you realize how much damage the lion did, because not only does speaking hurt, but Nami makes a face at the sight of you.

The local anesthetic that Chopper gives you helps a little bit, but it still hurts when he realigns your nose and stitches up the gashes. Luffy holds your hand the entire time, knowing you hate needles.

“Good job, Y/n!” Luffy says after Chopper’s done. “You’re real tough!”

“Thanks, Captain.” You sigh. “I would have been fine if I hit him again, but I thought he was down. I forgot how resilient Zoans can be.”

“You didn’t want to kill him.”

“I know, I shouldn’t take these fights so lightly–”

“Y/n, that’s a good thing.” Luffy stretches an arm around your shoulder. “You’re a good person. Besides, I was able to take him out easily because of the damage you did.”

“Nami looked horrified when she saw my face,” you say. “I must look like a mess.”

“You do,” Luffy says honestly, making you smile–which pulls on your stitches.

“Owww, oh…smiling hurts.”

“Then don’t smile!”

“I can’t help it. You make me smile. You know this.”

Luffy rubs his chin, eyes rolling up as he thinks. “Then I should stay away from you.”

“Nooo, don’t do that! I need you around to cheer me up! Especially now.” You take his hand that’s hanging around your shoulder, feeling your chest lighten when he squeezes back.

“Well, in that case, I’ll just not make you smile!” he says.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” You chuckle, then look at the mirror hanging on the wall. If you need to lower your mood, there’s an easy shortcut–the combination of your inflamed, swollen skin, plus the stitches make you look nothing short of monstrous.

Luffy notices your face falling. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s going to scar. And not even in a cool way.” Living with severe facial scarring probably won’t be that bad–you are a pirate, after all–but it’ll still be new. And, to be honest, you’re not ready for your appearance to change so dramatically.

“What are you talking about? It’ll be super cool!” Luffy says earnestly. “Everyone will know what a strong pirate you are!”

He’s trying to cheer you up. You don’t want to bring him down in the dumps with you, but you can’t help but be bummed out.

“But what if I don’t want to look cool?” you say. “What if I just want to look like me? I mean, who could possibly find a face like this appealing?” You ghost your fingers over the stitches on your lips. “Who would kiss lips like mine?”

You think you’re holding it in okay, but the admission has you tearing up. You’re being ridiculous–you should be happy to be alive. But why did it have to be your face? Why…

Luffy stares at you in that way he does when he’s thinking. You can’t tell what’s going through his mind.

It happens in an instant.

One moment you’re sitting next to each other in silence. The next moment, he wraps his other arm around you, pulls you in close, and lightly presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss.

It hurts a little, but it also feels so good that your tears break free and sting where they roll over your cuts.

“Did that hurt? I’m sorry, Y/n,” Luffy says when he pulls away.

“No, no! It was nice! It was really nice.” You have to fight not to smile.

“Oh, good! I liked it too!” he giggles, looking overjoyed.

“When I heal up, will you do that again?”

“I can do it right now!” Luffy says eagerly, but you clear your throat and tilt your head toward the doorway.

Chopper is standing there, little hooves on his hips, thoroughly unimpressed with the both of you and your method of boosting morale.

Zoro

Zoro was always one to downplay his injuries. Next to Chopper, you gave him the most trouble for it out of anyone in the crew. He figured that so long as he got medical attention, the extent of the injuries was no big deal.

He never expected to be on the receiving end.

In the heat of battle, he’s entirely focused on his opponent. This enemy crew is tough, but not the strongest they’ve faced. Strong enough to demand his full concentration.

However, Zoro knows the unique sound of a sword cutting through flesh. When he hears the shhk! noise behind him and remembers you’re also fighting a sword user, he’s so badly distracted he almost gets hit. He has just enough presence of mind to finish off his enemy before turning around.

That’s when he sees you fire a bullet into your opponent’s leg, your free arm wrapped around your stomach. There’s blood seeping between your fingers. In the time it takes him to rush to your side, you shoot your opponent again in the other leg, making him crumple, then once in each arm, rendering him completely unable to fight back from where he lays.

“Yo,” you say casually, but you’re trembling all over. Your torn shirt is staining quickly.

“You got cut,” Zoro states. He tries to pull your arm away so he can see your wound better, but you step back.

“I’m okay,” you say. You and Zoro both look down at your abdomen as you pull your arm away just slightly, and Zoro sees the unmistakable grayish-pink of your large intestine before you quickly plug up the gash with your arm again. You look back up at him. “It’s just a scratch.”

Zoro’s about ready to stab you himself, his eyes going wide with horror and rage. 

“Are you insane?!” he shouts. “A scratch?! Shit, where’s Chopper–?!”

“Ha ha–ow ow ow, hurts to laugh.” You grin, but Zoro notices you tearing up from the pain.

“Okay, just, stay still,” his hands are held up hesitantly, unsure of what to do, and he calls over his shoulder. “CHOPPER! Get over here right now!”

Once Chopper arrives, he applies an emergency field dressing and instructs Zoro on how to safely carry you back to the ship’s infirmary. You act like you’re in high spirits the entire way there, smiling up at Zoro like everything’s fucking dandy.

“This is kinda nice,” you say. “I haven’t been carried since I was little.”

“After you heal,” Zoro says, “I’ll carry you around as much as you want, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he says gently. “Does it hurt?”

“Of course not,” you say, and Zoro curses himself for having asked–he can see you wince with every harsh step he tries to avoid.

“We’re almost there. Almost there.”

“Relax, big guy. I’ve been through worse.”

You haven’t. He’s been in every major fight you’ve been through, and it’s never been this bad. Your blood is still warm on his skin, and your color’s getting paler, and it’s all because he couldn’t protect you.

The surgery takes longer than he thought. He’s pacing the hallway outside the infirmary so much that even Sanji starts to make a comment, which would have started a fight had Robin not intervened and sternly told them both that everyone was worried.

When you come to, it’s to the sight of Zoro standing over your bed. You don’t manage so much as a ‘yo’ before Zoro gets onto his hands and knees, bowing so low his head touches the floor.

“I’ll never let it happen again!” he says, minding his volume–Chopper is only allowing him to visit because Zoro promised he wouldn’t stress you out. “It’s my fault! I’m sorry–”

“Get up.” 

He peers up at you. Your face is twisted up like you’re holding something back, but you force it into a sneer.

“Get up right now, or I’m going to make fun of you,” you say. He hesitates long enough for you to roll your eyes. “Don’t be a pussy.”

That brings him right back to his feet. “What’d you call me?!”

“You heard me,” you say. “I’m alive, aren’t I? So relax.”

“I can’t relax!” Zoro snaps. “You got hurt because of me! I was too weak! I couldn’t–couldn’t stop this from happening!”

“Whatever.”

“Whatever?!” He no longer minds his volume. “How can you be so–so calm about this?!”

“How can you be making this about yourself?”

That shuts him up real quick. Realizing his mistake, Zoro starts to get a sour feeling in his stomach, but you only smile.

“Now you know what it feels like,” you chuckle and wince, “ow–what it feels like to have someone be dismissive of your injuries. So the next time you get hurt, you big dumb idiot, how about you have some self awareness and let me worry?”

Zoro deflates a little. “I still can’t just forgive myself like that.”

“I’ll do it for you.” You hold out your hand until he takes it. “Roronoa Zoro, I forgive you–so long as you do one thing for me.”

He leans in. “Anything. What is it?”

“Even with the pain meds, I’m still sore. Kiss it better?” You smile the way you do when you’re joking, but it soon turns to a look of surprise when Zoro leans in even closer. He hesitates for a moment, face hovering above yours, before his free hand comes to cradle the back of your head and he presses a firm, intent kiss to your lips.

You stare at him when he pulls away, your expression slowly morphing into a smile–not a playful one, not a masking one, but a real smile.

“W-What’s with that look?” Zoro says, flustered now. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“I meant kiss my stomach, dummy.”

Zoro’s eyes widen, but before he can remedy his mistake, you weakly pull him back in for another kiss. This time, he obliges without question.

Sanji

Sanji barely dodges a brutal strike from his opponent, then finishes them off with a flaming kick to the skull. You grin at him as you down your own opponent with a heavy strike from one of your tonfa.

“Careful there, Hotfoot! He almost got you!” you yell gleefully, only to narrowly avoid getting hit yourself.

“Worry about yourself, Sticks!” Sanji calls back, mirroring your grin.

“They’re not sticks!” you say yet again, smashing one of the tonfa into a pirate’s head and knocking them out cold. “You’re just jealous I can fight with my hands!”

“I choose not to fight with my hands!”

“Sure you do!”

You were well aware of Sanji’s commitment to only use his hands to cook, but it was still fun to pretend it was a skill issue. Sanji knew it was all teasing anyway. The two of you greatly enjoyed your banter, whether in or outside of battle. As physical fighters, your rivalry was a friendly one. After all, out of everyone in the crew, you spent the most time talking to each other.

The next wave of pirates comes, this time stronger than before–the enemy’s commanding officers. The battle becomes too serious for you to go on making comments, and your focus gets pulled toward your opponents.

It’s a hard, bloody fight. As soon as he defeats his opponent, he worries about how the others are faring. The rest of the crew is almost done with their own one-on-ones, and he finds himself rushing to find you first, his pace hurrying when he finds one of your tonfa lying off to the side.

You’re straddling your opponent on the ground. Your non-dominant hand is broken, held crookedly against your chest, and you’re bleeding from your hairline and mouth. With your good hand, you beat your tonfa into your opponent’s skull, over and over, a broken cry tumbling from your bloody lips with every strike. Your opponent is no longer moving, but you don’t stop, tears streaming from your eyes as you mash his face to a visceral pulp.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Sanji skids to a stop next to you, grabbing your wrist before you can strike again. “He’s dead! It’s over. It’s over. You won.”

You look at him with wide eyes. Your mouth is held open, and at first, Sanji doesn’t realize what’s wrong, but he can tell you only won by a hair from the way you’re trembling. He gets down and pulls you into a gentle hug. “I got you,” he says. “I got you. You’re okay now.”

He holds you at arm’s length and checks over your body for any injuries, finding none. Mouth still open, you pull away from him and start patting the grass with your good hand, searching for something. 

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” he says. “Please, say something.”

Sanji expects something tired and sarcastic, like ‘you don’t look much better.’ Instead, you make a strange, groaning noise as your response, and he feels a chill run through his body. You always had a quick retort for him, even when things were dire.

You seem to find what you were looking for, your hand closing around something. Sanji helps you stand up, and when you open your hand, he sees a few teeth in your palm that must have gotten knocked out.

“Your jaw’s broken,” Sanji realizes aloud, and you nod, and suddenly the way you hold your mouth open is deeply unsettling.

The silence that follows your surgery, however, puts Sanji at an even greater unease. Your jaw is wired shut to let the bone heal, and Chopper says that for the next six weeks, you won’t be able to speak at all.

You carry around a notepad with you, but for a while after you wake from the anesthesia, you don’t write anything down except to answer Chopper’s questions, opting instead to sulk.

“Come on, Sticks,” Sanji says lightly as he signs the cast on your hand. “I know you have something to say.”

You flick him off with your good hand, then seem to regret it, your face fallin along with your hand. Sighing through your nose, you grab your notepad and scribble something down, then hold it up for him to see.

‘I look like a chipmunk.’

The lower half of your face has, naturally, swollen up. Sanji shakes his head. “No, no, you look fine! You…” A pointed look from you makes him concede. “Okay, yeah. It’s swollen. What did you expect?” You look away, and he pats your shoulder. “Ah, come on, it’s not so bad. Most people find chipmunks cute, you know.”

Your eyes widen slightly and you give him a look of surprise. Sanji stiffens.

“Um, well, I mean…” he stammers. Though he doesn’t leave, for the rest of that day, you both avoid looking at each other.

From the beginning to the end of your healing process, Sanji stays by your side, always finding a way to make you feel better. He’ll hype you up by doing a drumroll while he’s waiting for you to finish writing out a thought, something which the rest of the crew picks up as well. When you’re hanging out with him in the galley, he’ll do hibachi tricks with the food he prepares to cheer you up.

The food he makes for you especially helps you get through the long weeks. You were severely bummed out at having to miss his cooking for weeks–until the first sip of the soup he cooked. You never knew a liquid diet could be so delicious. Sanji takes the time to roast and blend anything you’d wanted. Thanks to him, being unable to chew food doesn’t affect your nutrient intake at all.

He also indulges you in your favorite drink without you having asked, which is surprising. It’s not the first time he’s gone out of his way like this, but it does feel more special when you’ve been in such a vulnerable state.

‘Maybe there’s an upside to this after all.’

Sitting in the galley while Sanji cooks, you hold up your notepad for him to read.

“And what is that?” he says, walking around the prep table with a mixing bowl in his arms, looking down at what you’re writing.

‘I love y’

You pause, staring at your notepad with a weird, dumbstruck look. Sanji’s eyes widen, slowing down his mixing for a second, but you quickly recover and finish scribbling.

‘I love you treating me extra special.’ You hold up the notepad hesitantly, avoiding his eye. 

Though feeling warmth rise in his chest, Sanji plays it cool. “Well, I’m glad you’re finding the positive in this,” he says. “I personally miss the sound of your voice.”

You drop your notepad and fumble to catch it with only one good hand, accidentally smacking it to the floor. Both you and Sanji crouch down to pick it up, and freeze when your hands touch.

The urge to say ‘sorry’ is strong, though you can’t speak. Face burning, all you can do is look at him apologetically and hope he understands. But when you do, he’s looking back at you with the same expression he has when he reads a brand new recipe. Like he’s figuring something out.

You go to pull your hand away, but his fingers close around yours. “I, uh… I really mean that, you know.”

Swallowing, you glance down at his hand holding yours, then back up at him, and nod.

“Y/n,” he says, letting go of your hand to instead cup your cheek tenderly. “Would you… I mean. Can I…?”

With your heart pounding, you nod again, and Sanji leans in. You close your eyes, and a moment later, his lips brush yours, feather-light. Just that barest contact makes your head spin almost as bad as it did when you got your injury in the first place.

Sanji breaks free, and you stare at each other. A slow smile spreads across your lips at the sight of his nose starting to bleed. You both stand up, and you write something down quickly.

‘I’m sorry I can’t kiss you back.’

“That’s okay,” he says, reading the note over your shoulder. He rubs the back of his neck, grinning. “I’ll gladly do all the work.”

And Sanji does, in the quiet, private moments where it’s just the two of you. And yet, when the day finally comes for Chopper to remove the wires, and the first thing you do upon leaving the exam room is call out Sanji’s name, he’s so elated that he picks you up with a spin, kissing you in front of everyone before he can help himself.

[sngularty]

how the third years show they love you a/n: i plan on making this a short series so i hope you enjoy!

Cater Diamond - keeps a folder full of candids of you to look at when he misses you - a dozen heart emojis in your contact name and magicam comments - he’ll let you play with his hair because it’s enjoyable for both of you

Trey Clover - always makes sure to create an extra few of your favorite sweets and hides them before Ace can get to them - will regularly check up on you to make sure you’re taking care of yourself properly - ready to tutor you in alchemy if he needs to

Leona Kingscholar - forehead kisses while you’re wrapped in his arms during a nap - you’re the only person allowed to bother him while he’s in the botanical gardens - he’ll give you spare jewelry like he does for ruggie but if you look closely he choses pieces that match you best

Vil Schoenheit - he’ll let you do his makeup however you want to and take pictures for your eyes only - speaking of makeup, since he gets so many promotional packages he always gives you any spare items he thinks will fit you (if you wear makeup) - will lovingly push you to become the best version of yourself

Rook Hunt - speaks about you so passionately every chance he gets, even switching languages if he gets too into it - has books and books of poetry admiring every detail of your face - he also has albums of all the photos you've taken together, even the ones where you don't think you look the best

Idia Shroud - lets you into his room to spend time with him even when his social battery is depleted - carries you in multiplayer games and teases you about needing him to pass the level - infodumps about his favorite shows and games because he feels comfortable enough to do that with you

Malleus Draconia - makes sure to let you know how grateful he is that you’re in his life - strives for domestic moments with you so he can feel like a normal person and not an all-powerful being - enthusiastically talks to you about anything and everything because he knows you'll listen

Lilia Vanrouge - teases you by appearing on the ceiling or in the corner of your vision to keep you on your toes - after all he's been through, still lets himself build closeness with you and relaxes when he's with you - talks about all the places you should visit and where the best experiences were

[gracieheartspedro]

Your Needs, My Needs

I : Strawberry Wine

a masterlist of how you can help gaza

the prelude to this series

pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)

description: joel fixes your toilet but you can't help but yearn for more time with him. so you invite him to dinner and try to win his stomach? aka love?

word count: 3.2k words

warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, reader does have anxiety/mental illness that is not fully recognized/diagnosed, mentions of eating food, reader lives alone, reader got MONEYYYY, mentions of joel's ex wife (gasp), alcohol consumption, smoking cigarettes, kissing, flirting. all the fluffy stuff <3

author's note: hey...hey.... how y'all doing?? i'm so so so sorry this has taken so long. my life has been crazy for the last like 4 months and I'm finally getting settled into my life again. I miss y'all and I miss writing, so HERE I AM! I'm hoping everyone who wanted me to tag them months ago is still cool with me tagging them 4 months later lol. okay, lemme know what you think xoxo

Joel comes and goes for days. The first day he returns, he inspects your toilet again and tells you he has the wrong tools. You discuss a game plan and by his initial projections, your toilet should be fixed the next day. But when he fails to come by in the morning, you decide to call the phone number on the post-it note he left for you the day before. 

The phone rings and you get an answering machine of a younger girl telling you to leave her and Dad a message after the beep. When the line lets out a long ding, you breathe out the random croak in your throat. 

“Uh, hey, Joel, it’s me. Just seeing if you’re stopping by today. If not, that’s fine, I’ll be home all day today and tomorrow. Okay, uh, bye.”

Hours go by and you find yourself pacing, regretting your decision to leave him a message. What if he gets it and thinks that you’re crazy? 

Ever since you had made his acquaintance, you felt completely reliant on interacting with him. It may be due to the fact that you haven’t socialized with anyone else in months. You were very good at isolating yourself, but lately, it’s been eating you alive being so alone. Now that you had this big house, the silence felt almost too quiet. Joel’s southern drawl and straightforward responses gave a bit of light back to your life. 

Around dinner time, your landline rings. You practically fall over your couch racing to pick it up, hoping it was him. 

“Howdy neighbor,” He grunts through the phone, “Sorry I didn’t come by today, hope ya didn’t miss me too much.”

You let out a dry laugh, trying not to sound too giddy about him following up with you. You were borderline pathetic. 

“No, I just wanted to make sure you were still alive,” You manage to get out, “You are still alive right?”

“Still kickin’, just busy as all get out. ‘M fixin’ to head to your place now if you’re not busy.”

You look down at your pajamas and start to nod. It’s not like he can see you through the phone, but you are reacting to his words like he’s right in front of you. 

“Sure thing, I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

-

“So… It’s really just you here? All by your lonesome?”

He’s messing with his toolbox, searching for the one tool he needs to fix the toilet. You stir your fresh brewed tea, ensuring none of the sugar clumps up at the bottom of the mug. You had offered him some, but he politely declined, telling you that he had a big dinner.

You take a sip, testing the sweetness. “Just me. How about you? Just you and your daughter, right?”

He laughs heartedly, turning towards you from where he’s squatted. You look at him with curious eyes, unsure if you asked the wrong question. He stands up, a wrench in his hand, a smile still spread across his face. 

“Her mama left town with her new boyfriend about 5 years ago. Wanted the city life, not the life I gave her. It’s been just me and her ever since.”

So he’s single. You think to yourself. 

You realize the laugh was probably because of how absurd and new it must be for someone to ask him about his life. He grew up here and you are positive everyone here already knew all about his business. You are a breath of fresh air for him. 

Before the silence becomes awkward, you speak up. “City life ain’t worth a shit.”

“Yeah, she’s different. Won’t speak ill of her ‘cause that’s my bosses’ mama. She sees her now and again. They are just very different.” 

The conversation comes easy with Joel. While the first couple of interactions you two shared were a bit strained, after days of small talk, you realize he’s the truest Southern gentleman you’ve ever interacted with. Polite with a little bite. He never speaks ill of others, except his brother. He loves to pick on Tommy. He seems like an attentive father. He loves to pick at you, always pointing out your Northern tendencies. Your horrible driving. Your accent and your speech patterns. But he’s also very complimentary. A couple of days ago, he remarked how nice your perfume was when you were standing close to him. It made your heart skip a beat. 

And on top of all of those things, he’s very easy on the eyes. 

“That’s mighty fine of you not speaking ill of your ex,” You try to drag out the silly Southern saying, which causes him to chuckle again. You smack your lips before continuing, “Wish I could do the same.”

You are not sure what he’s doing to the tank of your toilet, but you watch him strain to get a piece out of the corner with the wrench he has. He clenches his teeth, turning the piece to the left to loosen it. 

“Exes are exes for a reason,” He grunts, fiddling with some more things in the tank, “I ain’t too hung up on datin’ right now. I got my girl and my horses.”

“And now you got me, your annoying neighbor who almost crashes into your horses and asks you to fix toilets.”

He breathes out loudly, “Yeah, ‘nother pain in my ass. Just what a man needs.”

-

The toilet is fixed too quickly. You had busied yourself with other small cleaning tasks that when Joel finds you in the kitchen doing dishes, he startles you. It took him about 15 minutes to finish the job and you had thought you could at least finish up the dishes you made from dinner. 

“‘M all finished up. Gotta get back home to do some rounds at the stables,” He says as he waltzes over to your paper towel holder. He grabs a sheet and begins to wipe his damp hands, “Anythin’ else for me today?”

You turn off the running water, going down a list of fixes you could ask him to do. You decide it’s probably best to just ask him to swing by another day to help you with other things. 

“No, thank you though, Joel. I am sure I’ll be by to ask for more help,” You chuckle, shaking your hands dry, “I owe you dinner or something.”

As you say it, it feels like all the air leaves your lungs. He’s staring at you and there’s a glint in his eyes. You are not that good at reading people, mostly because you are deathly afraid of being wrong. His eyebrows raise as he leans against the counter near you. He’s so close and in your space, but you try to push the thought of him coming onto you out of your mind. 

“What’do you got on the menu tomorrow?”

His voice is kind of husky which makes your brain draw a blank. You wipe your hands on your pants before crossing the kitchen to check your fridge. You glance through your ingredients, settling for the only dinner item you can conjure up that his southern palette may like. 

“Baked chicken and vegetables?”

He nods, tossing his paper towel into the bin beside you. “Yeah, I've been needing a home-cooked meal. Think I could come over at like 5? Tomorrow?”

You recollect a time when a guy showed interest in wanting to hang out with you outside of work. It had been years and he was not nearly as attractive as the man in front of you. 

You nod slowly, trying not to look too robotic due to your nerves. “Sure thing, cowboy.”

-

You did not know what to wear. You contemplated going into town to see what the local boutiques had but you ran the risk of Joel seeing you out. You didn’t even know if this was a date. 

You settle on a sundress you have owned since high school. It’s the perfect length and while your mind goes to wanting to impress Joel, you also need to be comfortable. 

You cleaned your house, adding some new decorations to your living room walls. You even clean your sheets and make sure your bedroom is vacuumed. 

When the time comes for Joel to arrive, you pace the kitchen anticipating the doorbell. You already had all the food prepped and ready to put in the oven. The vegetables have been cut and seasoned. Everything was just the way you needed it to be. 

Joel gets there 5 after your scheduled time. When you welcome him at the door, his hair is styled and you can tell he put on his “fancy jeans”. 

What you didn’t expect was the bouquet of flowers he had in his hands. 

“Afternoon, neighbor,” He begins before extending the floral arrangement towards you, “My girl said I had to bring you something nice. Somethin’ bout being a gentleman.”

You smile widely, giving flowers all your attention. Even with the fragrant bouquet, you get a whiff of his sandalwood cologne. 

“Nice to see you cleaned up for me, cowboy. Come on in, dinner is about to get put in the oven.”

-

You catch him scanning you up and down when you place the spread of chicken and vegetables on the table. He was in the midst of talking about his daughter and her band fundraiser, but he completely halted when you took notice of his staring. 

You settle into the dining room chair across from him, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t. 

“She needs more sponsors?” You break the silence, wanting to move away from the sudden awkwardness. 

He swallows, reaching for the serving fork, “Oh, yeah. She needs to reach a certain goal to go on her senior band trip.”

You try to avoid his wandering gaze again, focusing on organizing your plate of vegetables. “Where are they going?”

“Disney. She ain’t never been out of Texas, so she really wants to go.”

You remember all the trips your family said they’d go on to Disney, but they never did. Your father could not stand being around his own children, let alone other people’s children. You think about how he used to complain about your constant questions, all the times he completely ignored you for your brother. You start to spiral, the anxiety creeping up in the back of your throat. You push your chair out from under the table, excusing yourself for a moment. You go to the bar you have set up in the living room and grab the only sweet wine you have. Strawberry. You grab two glasses from the top of the setup and walk back to Joel. 

“Forgot wine,” you mumble, setting a glass in front of him, “You want some?”

He is already picking at his chicken, “Yeah, I’ll take some.”

You are quiet as you uncork it expertly, pouring it into each of the glasses. Joel watches you like a hawk. You can tell he’s trying to read your expression, so you try your best to remain neutral even though your hands are shaking. 

You place the bottle in the middle of the table, making sure it’s easily reachable. 

You finally sit back down, sipping the red liquid. The strawberry flavor isn’t very strong, it’s more like a hint of the berry. You had gotten the bottle from a roadside stand in Kentucky. An older lady who must have owned a vineyard nearby was selling them for $5 each. You told yourself you would only use it for a special occasion. This event seemed fitting. 

Wine always makes you flushed, but you are always a bit flushed around Joel. Even more so when he’s watching you so intently. 

After a couple of sips, you finally rest your shoulders and begin to eat your dinner. 

“I could sponsor her,” you finally say, returning to the previous conversation. For some reason, you felt obligated. Joel quickly retaliates, shaking his head as he chewed on your roasted veggies. 

“You ain’t gotta do that, doll.” 

The nickname rings in your ears. You take another sip of wine. You can tell Joel notices your reaction because he smirks with his mouth full. 

“But I want to, Joel. I’m sure she has worked hard her high school career, she deserves to have fun.”

He hums, but still shakes his head negatively, “I can’t let you just pay for-”

“You can and you will,” You enjoy another bite, smirking at your defiance towards him. He looks perplexed. “So when is this fundraiser? Is there like a dinner or something?”

He finally caves, “This Friday at the school. It’s a dinner and auction. I guess if the kids don’t find their sponsors, some local businesses are willing to sponsor them.”

“Are you going?”

“Yeah,” He cuts up his chicken, “I guess you’re gonna come along, too, if you’re givin’ my girl all that money.”

“Does a check work?”

He sits back in his chair, already finishing off his wine, “You seriously don’t have to-”

“What are neighbors for, Joel?”

He nods, “You mean friends.”

You furrow your brows, trying to let your hazy mind find a time when you called him your friend. This was a new development.

“Friends, huh?”

He pours more in his glass, “Well, I’d like to think so.”

The wine is hitting your system and you realize your arms feel lighter. You grab the stem of your glass and tip it up to down the rest of the alcohol. Joel’s eyes are trained on you, waiting for a snarky response. 

“Do friends stare at other friends like that?” You pour more wine for yourself. You realize he’s done eating so before he can respond to your flirtation, you speak up again, “You done with that?”

He looks down at his empty plate, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Yes friends look at other friends like that, or you’re done eating.”

He grins, “‘m done eating, doll.”

-

You two find your way out to the rocking chairs. They were left there by the previous owners and you could tell they were probably as old as you. 

You had another full glass of wine, sipping it as Joel lit up a cigarette. He admitted it was only a bad habit when he was drinking, which was rare. “Sarah gets onto me when I have even one beer. So this has gotta be between us two.”

You swirl the crystal, watching him carefully take a drag of the stick. “Your secret is safe with me, cowboy.”

He giggles as he lets out a huff of smoke. “I haven’t had secrets in a long time. Guess I’m lucky it’s with the town stranger.”

The statement hits you in the very pit of your settling tummy. You furrow your eyebrows, leaning forward towards him. Your chairs are not that far away from one another, so this is probably the closest you have ever been to him except for that one moment in the kitchen. 

“Luckiest man in Texas that’s for sure,” You muster, averting your eyes. You could not stare into his beautiful brown eyes for too long. “Having the privilege of getting me out of my head. No man has done that in years.”

“What? You not good at letting loose?”

You shake your head, knowing that he did not understand what you meant. You take a moment to inhale, finally glancing up at him again. “I think I may just be cursed.”

“Now, why do you say that?”

You contemplate spilling the beans. Letting your heart fall onto your sleeve after years of shielding it from anyone who looks your way. Your lips part, but no words come out. It’s just the sounds of the cicadas. 

“As soon as something is good, it gets bad somehow. I don’t even get a moment to savor it.”

You feel the statement down to your bones. The last time you felt settled in your own life, the rug got pulled out from under you. You cannot remember a time when you truly felt present in a special moment. You always felt like you were floating outside of your body, watching things happen and never really truly feeling anything. 

You don’t expect him to lean closer to you, “Whatever happened before you got here, you ain’t gotta worry about it anymore. You obviously put distance between you and what happened for a reason. Let this little side of the world be your home now.”

You push your spiraling thoughts away, letting him be right. 

“I’m workin’ on getting settled. It’s easy when you have a handsome cowboy to help along the way.”

It comes out like word vomit. Between the wine and the nerves coursing through your entire being, you can’t help but admit your little crush on the man. You slap your free hand over your forehead, admitting defeat before he can even respond. You knew he would take the comment and run with it.

“You always flirt with your friends, sweetheart?” He was toying with you, which was a good sign. If he wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t call you such a thing. 

You smile, releasing your face from your hand. His eyes are tracing every curve of your face, a subtle pass that you did not capture quickly enough. 

“Only ones that fix my toilets.”

And then, he kisses you. It happens so quickly, that you don’t fully grasp that it’s happening until you're molding your lips into his. Once your buzzed brain picks up the fact that the man you have been crushing on is kissing you, he pulls away. Your eyes are still closed, your hands still gripping onto your wine glass. 

He huffs loudly and stands up quickly. Once you place your eyes on him, he’s pacing around the back deck stairs, not too far from where you’re sitting. You instantly bite back the urge to ask him what’s wrong, because there’s always something wrong. 

“‘M sorry, sweetheart. I should’na done that.”

He instantly regretted it. The thought made your throat tighten. He continues to walk back and forth, causing a draft. 

“It’s fine, Joel. I’m n-not mad.”

He shakes his head, halting his robot-like movements. He finally looks at your pitiful expression and lets out a long sigh. “I don’t think I’m much of a gentleman, kissing you on the first date.”

You watch as he places his hands on his hips, contemplating his whole life right before your eyes. You realize he is too traditional to see that nowadays, people are sleeping together on the first date. First base is nothing. You rest your glass on a decrepit table next to you and stand up. 

You slowly approach him, trying to catch a glance from him, but he continues to avert his eyes. You grow bold enough to tilt his chin towards you, letting your guard down for a moment. 

“You’re such a gentleman, it hurts,” you whisper, slowly letting a smirk grow across your face. The comment makes his shoulders lower, finally relaxing from such a heated moment. 

“Just don’t wanna mess this up with ya,” He murmurs, only letting you and the nearby fireflies hear you, “I enjoy spending time with you.”

You slowly lower your hand to your side, trying to act casually about the confession. But the truth is you want to run and wake up every cow and horse within a 10-mile radius with a squeal of delight. 

“I like spending time with you, too, Joel.”

He takes your hand as you say it, bringing your knuckles up to his lips. His breath is hot on the back of your hand before he says, “Well now, I quite like the sound of that."

taglist (some of y'all can't be tagged, I tried lol)

@midnightdragonzero @casssiopeia @anoverwhelmingdin @notsosecretspy @raindrcpsangel @art-estrange @misstokyo7love @lizzie-cakes @d1lf-loverrr @ashleyfilm 

@blckbrrybasket @cande-beggins @gloryekaterina @lilyevanstan1325 @frogtape @jamesdeerest @mellymbee @arrowsandanchor @polishedtaylor @harrieandharassed @ranahx @youwouldntdownloadapizza @jmillersgirl @wintersquirrel @stefanibear003 @joliettes @startsm00n @abbsfrommars @76bookworm76 @youotterbekiddingme @jodiswiftle

[lxdymoon0357]

Hello 👋 can I pls request relationship and suggestive headcanons for Claude (wmmap) Regis (FIDWYM) and Lante Agriche with a female reader? Thank you ❤️

(some days, I'm gonna be better and consistent...:[ | Warnings: mentions of dying at childbirth, blood, murder, NSFW content, diana-claude poly mentions? idk..Anyways, NSFW content. )

© Writing belongs to me, Lxdymoon0357. Do not plagiarize, but reblogging, liking and commenting is deeply appreciated.

Claude De Alger Obelia, Legis Floyen and Lante Agriche SFW/NSFW HCs

Claude De Alger Obelia

♕ Definitely loves to spoil you! He loves to spoil you when he can, bringing jewellery, making your favourite food, spending extra time with you, buying you clothes, flowers, gifts, anything you want! He is always happy to spoil you, Athy gets a bit worried, but she also loves you and makes handmade gifts for you which you definitely appreciate!

♕ Constantly worried for your health and safety, has a maid and a guard follow you everywhere, he would let them follow you to the bathroom if it wasn't unethical, but yeah..Constantly worried something is gonna happen to you..

♕ Also, constantly making sure you're in top health, always consults doctors about anything he finds unusual on you, if you two were to have kids, he's have a long talk with doctors if you can have kids and there won't be any complications and if anything were to happen, if he'd be able to save you over the kid...

♕ Definitely not loosing you to childbirth like he lost Diana, you both are the biggest jewels in his eyes and he doesn't want to lose you like he lost Diana. Definitely thinks how you both would be with each other if you met, would you both like each other more than him? Would you be open to be with both of them or would he simply be with Diana and you'd go off with someone else??

♕ You, him and Athy spend a lot of time together, eating, tea parties, talking about trends, gossiping or anything in between about Athy's love interests or something. Sometimes even Jeanette joins you both, she's so happy to be included, but after Anastacius left with her, she was happy to learn things from far away, you gave her your blessings, she'll miss all of you but tries to find time to visit when she can..

♕ You and Claude would dance together late at night for fun, it's so quiet and so intimate and so romantic, cue you both forgetting the dance and end up making out against a wall with him leaving hickeys! speaking of them, he leaves TOO many damn hickeys, it's his love language at one point...

♕ He is a busy man, being an emperor and all, but he still finds time for you, you're the most important thing to him after Athy and he tries to find time for both of you, together and individually like during meals, before he goes to sleep, after he wakes up, free time, he loves to spend it with you or alone doing something he enjoys..

♕ He is romantic while sex, but also very rough, be careful, don't piss him off, you won't be able to sit with a bruised ass or the aching cunt or walk due to the shaking and sore legs. He knows how to make brats behave, loves you but don't piss him off.

♕ Hates it when other people stare, will go to a nearby room or maybe the balcony if he's extra mad and simply fuck you till you're screaming your throat raw with leaving hickeys and making sure everyone and especially the person is hearing and seeing the whole thing...Likes the eyes on him sometimes, don't know why but he does, maybe it gives him thrill maybe it gives him the chance to prove himself in some way maybe he gets gratification, no way. But likes the way when you're bent over and crying your eyes out.

♕ Cages your hand above your head with a single one of his own and simply fingers you before pulling away and edging you till you're asking him to properly fuck you dumb, even if he's feeling soft, he likes to do it cause you're crying face and whines and moans sound cut to him and he can never get enough of it

♕ Leaves a lot of bitemarks, hickeys, bruises, it's concerning if you don't know it's out of love and how much he can't control his strength at times..When he's about to cum, he bites your neck to muffle his own moans and whines when you're clenching down on him..One hand constantly working on your clit.

♕ Let's say they have some medicine which works as Plan B, cause keep in mind, he will be breeding you, it's one of his biggest kinks, he would love to see you pregnant with his baby who is your and his mix, Athy needs a sibling after all! Will be pounding in you even after you've gone enough, he cant help himself sometimes!

Legis Adri Floyen

◈ Now Legis would be a bit closed off, but still after a while be extremely sweet and romantic, constantly being a gentleman, holding your hand when you're walking down the stairs, gets you gifts, when you got tired, he carried you where you want, feeds you, kisses you and looks at you like you're gold.

◈ You and Jubelian have to sometimes remind him to take breaks, you and Jubelian and literally bestest of friends yet being the cutest mother-daughter duo in Legis's eyes, two of his favourite girls being together and happy and getting alone and all the cute stuff?! Oh man, he feels like he's in heaven!

◈ Loves to spend time with you and Juve when he can, bringing you both gifts and you both in return make tiny gifts for him, like bouquets or like maybe you stitched something for him on a napkin and he carried it everywhere, or maybe you and Juve went out together to choose and mix-match jewellery for Legis and then you both gift it to him, she is always so happy to spend time with her parents!

◈ He and you would spend time kissing and then Juve would be grossed out but finds it cute or maybe you and Legis would spend time sparring or sword-fighting cause women back then used to do a lot of sports including archery, sword-fighting, hiking, so maybe he would love for you to join him in sparring sometime or maybe hand-to-hand combat where you are always winning because he refuses to put in effort, he gets too mesmerised by you anyway.

◈ He would love to take you on trips to anywhere you want, get dresses custom made so no-one else can have them, have portraits painted of you, he's such a sweetheart!! He would love to have a family portrait with you and Juve beside him!!

◈ Another thing is, matching clothes!! You wear something matching in your outfits at ALL times, be it a brooch, be it the colour of the clothing, be it the way the pattern of the dress, he loves to match with you, he even has dresses which are carbon copies of some of Juve's! You both look gorgeous in them!!

◈ Kind of needs your reassurance that he is doing the correct thing, if there is something you don't like, please say cause when you do things passive and aggressively, it makes him overthink things....And if he overthinks, he cries and I'm sure you don't want your husband to cry? Yeah, that's what I thought, communicate!

◈ Okay, first he finds you cute and adorable and hot and so squishable and he folds you like a chair fucking you in matching press with your thighs pressed against your chest while he toys with your cunt and clit so sweetly, it's almost innocent in a way!

◈ PRAISE!! Of-course, the biggest praise kink is in him, his eyes start to water from overwhelming love when he is praised during sex, so just to ground him, hold his hand tightly in yours in anyway you can to remind him you're both there..He gets carried away, poor baby..

◈ Loves to see you ride him, cause it's so cute in his eyes when you're trying your best to take him cause first of he's VERY BIG, secondly you try your best to take him, struggle with it, crying for him to do something to make something out of your fruitless ventures, of-course he teases you until you beg a lot, but because he likes your cries and tears and face

◈ Speaking of crying, he won't stop eating your cunt until tears are streaming down he's pulled a good few orgasms, your cunt is almost raw but i's still drooling...and he can't get enough, you're just sound so cute and taste so amazing, but okay, he'll take pity and fuck you properly, if you don't tell him to, he'll cum from just eating you out, grinding against whatever he can.

◈ Suck him off under his desk after he's overworked, probably one of the only dilfs who moans and whimpers and can't hide them, he sounds cute, as you gag on his cock, he sounds adorable!! Not your fault it's a good way to relax him from overworking and to just tease him!

◈ He sometimes gets so lot in making you cum, he does it for a good while until he simply pulls dry orgasms, until legs are shaking, you're both covered in bodily fluids, drools, sweat, clit is engorged a bit and it hurts but feels too good for him to pull out now as you wrap your legs around his waist to keep him close..

Lante Agriche

☠ Now for this request, I will say he's like a yandere-type in love with you and he's a bit sane and okay in head. Lante would always follow you around, carrying you when he can, holding you on his lap during those special dinners with his top three favourite kids as he fed you food with his hands, does your hair, albeit a bit haphazardly.

☠ He desperately needs you be locked down with him, he would kill anyone you pay too much attention to, that includes his kids, well your kids are his favourite kids, so he doesn't want you to be sad, but threatening them is the way to go!!

☠ likes to bring you the severed head of his victims as gifts with a deranged smile, expecting praise. I hope you give some to him for the sake of your neck joint...I mean, he'd also bring bloodied flowers, a skull, some sword, some jewel, etc, whatever he finds interesting all covered in blood cause he thinks you look hot in blood and everything looks better covered in blood.

☠ Leaves hickeys on your necks, for everyone and leaves more if you try to cover them. He has no shame, not like anyone would dare to say anything, but if they did, you'd have another severed head to your collection. So enjoy!!

☠ DESPISES people staring at you for a second too late, hates it, cannot stand it, will not stand for it, will kill someone for it. I mean, he's a man known for crimes, of-course he's gonna murder someone for looking at you too long! He's such a munchy weirdo..

☠ Would have your ring on your hand AT ALL TIMES, ain't no one snatching up his weirdo, hell naw! Anyways, he gets new rings made for you whenever you need one and it's all decorated well and stuff and so now you have a ring collection and it's very gorgeous and probably cost more than the whole manor and humans who die inside regularly!

☠ He slow dances with you over the dead bodies of people, enjoying the way their bones crunch under you both as you both softly danced while you both are in each other's embrace and are softly being intimate in silence..

☠ Oh now, don't think that if he got jealous and mad at some public event he is also one to not care if he fucks you on a balcony when everyone can hear you both while you scream and wail like it's no one's business in the balcony and later on everyone's too shy to make eye contact with you, including the kids and other wives...

☠ Bending you over on his desk to fuck you all while there are people in the next room or simply eat you out until you cry, but eating you out is a unusual occurrence...He doesn't just give you pleasure without getting anything in return, no.

☠ Edging you constantly, not letting you cum until you beg hard enough or until he possibly can't take it anymore or until you do it yourself earning a punishment by him where either he overstimulates you till you physically pass out and only have dry orgasms, so there are a few options of him to choose from, maybe play the safe submissive and subservient role for a while unless you're confident in your skills as a dom to top him..

☠ knife kink, I said it. Knife kink, holds a knife to your neck while he makes you ride him, and presses it down sometimes to nick your body parts for fun and for the sadistic tendencies...

[vqnrouged]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐌 ── ♱

599 words

romantic . ݁₊ ⊹ .

included | riddle & lilia

content | you just adore your boyfriend so much and sometimes it can get lonely while he isn’t available to spend time with you, so once you saw a stuffed animal that resembled him you couldn’t pass it up. but, how would he react to seeing you cuddled up with a little animal version of him?

just a little something while i work on more ideas i have! :)

𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 - a hedgehog

♱ ˖° didn’t realize what you were cuddling in your arms until he inspected it a little closer, then realized it was a hedgehog plushie that looked very similar to him. the red color of the little creature, the cute little crown on it’s head, the staff it held in it’s hands that were sewn together by a few threads was enough to make him flustered. questions like “did you know it resembled him?” and “were they going to show me this?” ran through his mind at a mile a minute, making him lose track of what he meant to do in the first place.

♱ ˖° is saddened by the reasoning of your purchase of the stuffed animal once you explain it to him and will make an effort to spend more time with you. he understands that as the housewarden of heartslabyul he harbors a lot of duties and responsibilities that take a lot of time out of his day and along with his dedication to his studies he is more often than not already engaged in another activity. so, he will make sure to organize more dates with you… with the possibility of the little hedgehog being invited too. :)

♱ ˖° either way, he thinks the plush is rather adorable. it never fails to make a smile appear on his face whenever he sees you cuddled up with it while your sleeping, reading, or just scrolling through your phone. he doesn’t mind you having it while you’re cuddling with him either, as long as you’re comfortable in his arms and sleeping soundly. just really thinks it’s cute and thinks about it a lot when the two of you are separated or can’t be together.

───

𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐄 - a bat

♱ ˖° thinks it’s the most precious and adorable sight, you really do adore him just as much as he adores you, don’t you? the way you hug the plushie in your arms so close to your chest is just so cute in his eyes! however, he does wish he was the one receiving your affection instead of the plush. no need to fret over it though, he’s more than happy to sit idly by and watch as you sleep peacefully. you deserve it.

♱ ˖° does feel guilty once he hears your reasoning for acquiring the plush and is quick to make an apology, the last thing this ol’ fae wants is for his darling to feel lonely. he felt lonely once to, but now that he had found a family and of course you, those feelings began to dissipate. for you, he would like the same. so if he can’t be there for you, then he will encourage you to hangout with your friends, silver, or malleus so you won’t be as lonely. but, he does understand his company is truly what you miss and is more than willing to make up for it with cuddles and quality time. he’s not a monster, after all.

♱ ˖° he is admittedly a sucker for the little bat plush you have that looks very similar to him, even the dollhouse sized hat that it wears is the same as his dorm uniforms. he’s no fool and knows that you specifically picked it out, there was no coincidence here. it’s red eyes are what made you pick that one specifically, and most definitely the pink in it’s ears too. the bat fae thinks it’s adorable and does encourage the use of it, he’s even willing to have it on the bed while your cuddling or sleeping together if it makes you happy.

@𝐯𝐪𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐝 ♱

[captainreecejames]

my ex is a footballer || LN4 part 2

first part here

summary : the world finds out lando hit you up with a hey girlie text

pairing : lando norris x fem!reader

warnings : phil foden slander, cursing

faceclaim : giorgia wingham

twitter ---------

yn's messages ----------ynusername's story ------

landonorris posted ------

liked by kylianmbappe and others

landonorris hey girlie

load more comments

username23 bro is actually insane for this

username24 the lore behind this is crazy ↳ username25 wait can someone explain it to me I'm new to F1 ↳ username24 well basically we all think that lando told ynusername that her then boyfriend (philfoden) was cheating on her and this feels like a confirmation

maxfewtrell dude ↳ landonorris I'm a better footballer right ↳ maxfewtrell how about we just say you're a better man ↳ landonorris I'll take it, for now

username26 lando coming for f****'s job

carlossainz55 wrong team bro 😞 ↳ landonorris just a tour bro, don't worry

username27 HEY GIRLIE CONFIRMATION WE WIN

username28 yn upgraded for real

ynusername how did you not break your ankle? ↳ landonorris actually not sure, must have had a good luck charm with me

username29 now why would he post this?? yn really is dragging him down with being petty ↳ username30 right?? like she's such a problem ↳ username31 now I know yall aren't saying LANDO was corrupted by yn

ynusername posted -----

liked by oscarpiastri and others

ynusername out and about

username51 GIRL WHAT

bsfinstagram haha fucking nerd ↳ landonorris 😢 ↳ bsfinstagram norizz really makes sense ↳ landonorris yeah but I pulled yn, so it's actually yesrizz ↳ bsfinstagram I'm blocking you

username52 MISSED A FEW CHAPTERS HERE

username53 RUE!! WHEN WAS THIS??

username54 lando was trying to be all mysterious and yn said nah fuck that, hard launch time ↳ username55 which is so funny because I really expected it the other way around

ynusername funny story actually, wasn't supposed to post the pic with lando but 🤷🏼‍♀️ ↳ username55 LOLLL she messed up the soft launch

fodenfan1 downgraded forreal ↳ username56 no one asked you, forreal

landonorris why'd you use this picture?? ↳ ynusername it was an accident

[morbidmorbid]

rare affections i think s2 daryl would like.

fingers scratching at his beard. this is usually followed by typically smaller qualms; brisk disagreements within the group. it was talking to him under the shade of the tree, listening to him swear out selfish complaints about anything, everything. it was telling him to shut the hell up and bringing a chiding hand up to swat at his ears and it stays there then, like appeasing a cat with light scratches rather soothingly against his jaw and beneath his chin.

daryl would nudge away at first like he always did, but he wanted it—needed it more, perhaps—if the way he’d simultaneously lean into it was telling. it seemed it killed him, too—to accept something like this, to surrender to someone, to allow himself to sit and think for a moment.

and he would indeed shut the hell up, fiddling with a handful of arrows with a dwindling frown. it didn’t do much damage control otherwise a bigger situation, though in these observantly smaller moments it did enough.

playing with his hands. he pretends that he hates it, ‘hurts like shit,’ he’d say when you massaged the knuckle, kneaded the palm. the filthiness that he never seemed to wash away would turn up on your own hands as you kept in contact with his. daryl’s flexing fingers and tight joints were a combination that you had to work through, and while it seemed to ease him a bit, it did for you as well.

he would usually talk through it, seemingly not understanding having an idle mouth and mind. if you eased him at the muscles, you simultaneously couldn’t at the mouth. he would talk about his missing brother, about sophia, about the farm and how much disdain he had for the group. and so often would he pause in between spits of negativity to eye the way you soothed over the skin of his hands, and when the air stiffened with his realization of finding a comfort in something, he would swat you away. “s’enough.”

but later when he’d been worked up by something else and you watched the way he mimicked on himself what you often done to him, it was reassuring.

forehead kisses. another thing he pretends to dislike—or rather him declining an act so foreign to himself. it always shocks him, always makes him flinch, always keeps him up and a bit lost. you typically feel that urge whenever he’s hurt or on the brink of sleep or thinking entirely too much and you do it to reassure him without the words. you’re going to be okay. yes, it’s alright to sleep. relax, this doesn’t all fall on you. if it helps or not isn’t too clear at first. if he’s lying down, he is quiet, unreadable eyes on you until he’s turning in the other direction and ending whatever thoughts had even dared to make a head.

but after some time, after he’s expecting it, he practically asks for it. when he’d been grazed, bruised and bandaged and forced to spend valuable time in bed, he talked with you in the midst of the night. you talked loads and he listened and for a while it halted his complaints of being in recovery, and when the night and conversation came to a close, he’d look at you in a way; someone who yearned for something they’d never had. like someone addicted to something that they should have been given but was not.

so when you’d read him completely with a peck to his temple, that’s when he’d finally roll over.

this could probs pertain to daryl at any point in time i think but my obsession for him in the earlier seasons makes me imagine these things in the earlier stages and how they’ve developed idkk. also i want to add that i can only see this being a thing specifically if reader and daryl have known eachother prior to the outbreak, not exactly a relationship but an establishment of something ..

but yes i have a terrible horrible brain eating “i can fix him” delusion and that is why i wrote this

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Can I request for an blurb?? Never requested to anyone but I have this idea!!

So like H nd reader is in a relationship but H being famous nd all so because of that media nd his fans doesn't know he is in relationship nd to hide that thing he had to do PR relationship with someone else!! Nd he doesn't acknowledge that he had being ignoring reader nd spending more time with that pr girl!! So one day H came home nd reader was crying nd saying to H "do you love me?? Nd saying please don't leave me" nd H assure her she is it nd in few months he proposed the reader by saying how she is the only girl for him nd to never doubt his love for her!!

Ahh so sorry for such a lengthy request!! Nd it's okay if you don't wanna write!!:)

words: 4k (sorry!!!)

warnings: angst, lots of it. a fake pr, crying, some smut too. happy ending.

i changed this a bit, especially the ending. hope you don't hate this!

***

"I miss you," you whispered into the dark emptiness of your bedroom, clutching Harry's pillow tight. Another restless night alone while he was off being pictured with that pretty model for their fake relationship.

When would this torment end? Your heart ached constantly from the secrecy and lies shredding your real romance with Harry. All you wanted was to be open about your love...

It had started off so blissfully a year ago when you literally crashed into Harry outside of a coffee shop. You'd been rushing out the door, distracted and clumsy as always, when you rammed straight into a solid wall of human. Your face went bright red as you scrambled to pick up your scattered belongings.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I'm such a disaster, I seriously need to watch where I'm going..." you babbled, finally looking up into the kindest pair of green eyes you'd ever seen.

The man was watching you with an amused tilt to his soft lips. Something about his tousled chestnut hair and casual style felt vaguely familiar, though you couldn't quite place him. 

"No worries at all, it's my fault. Are you alright?" He asked in a deep, sumptuous voice that made you shiver.

As realization dawned, your mortified expression deepened. "Oh wow...you're...I just headbutted Harry Styles in the stomach."

He laughed easily, dimples flashing as he bent to help gather your dropped papers. "Very impressive ab attack there. Been taking self-defense classes?"

You flushed again at his playful teasing, finding yourself surprisingly flustered by this international superstar's carefree charm. Most celebrities seemed to carry an air of inflated ego, but Harry radiated a humble warmth.

"Do you, er, come to this cafe often?" He asked curiously as you both stood. "I don't think I've seen you around before."

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear shyly, you shook your head. "No, I don't. I was just stopping in for a coffee on my way to work."

"I see." His gem-green eyes slowly traced over your features, as if admiring a fine work of art. The intensity of his gaze sent a tendril of heated awareness washing through you.

Before you could think better of it, you blurted out the first thing on your mind. "Would you...maybe want to get coffee? With me, I mean? Right now?"

Harry's full lips curved in an amused smile. "I'd love that, actually."

You could scarcely believe this was reality as you led him back inside the cafe, trying not to visibly swoon at the casual brush of his fingertips against the small of your back. For the next hour you talked and laughed more freely than you had in ages, feeling utterly intoxicated by Harry's mere presence. Everything about him radiated authenticity and vulnerability, a creative wildness simmering beneath his polished exterior. You felt like you could be yourself with him instead of carefully cultivating persona upon persona as you did with most people.

By the time you forced yourself to reluctantly leave for work, exchanging numbers with Harry, you were positively giddy. Dancing through your day in a euphoric bubble, you hardly noticed the pitying looks from coworkers.

"You know he's just gonna ghost you, right?" Julie the receptionist said flatly when you told her about your morning coffee date. "Have you seen how many girls fall all over themselves trying to get Harry Styles' attention? You're out of your league, sweetie."

You frowned at her harsh dose of reality. As if you weren't well aware of your lack of impressiveness compared to supermodels and actresses in Harry's orbit. Still, you couldn't shake the magnetic connection you'd felt with him, the bone-deep certainty that he was someone truly special. 

Much to everyone's shock, Harry didn't ghost you. In fact, a simple text from him that evening asking how your day was led to a rapid-fire exchange of messages stretching long into the night. Over the next few weeks, your life revolved around hushed phone calls, secret rendezvous at out-of-the-way cafes and restaurants, and marathon conversations revealing every layer of one another.

Harry was purely intoxicating - a whirlwind of brooding intensity balanced with vivid spontaneity and an excellent sense of humor. He seemed utterly fascinated by every small detail you revealed about your life, respectful in a way that made him feel like a wonderful dream. And you fell harder and harder for Harry with each passing day. Something about his quiet attentiveness and insatiable curiosity about you made you feel cherished in a way you'd never experienced before. Gone were the shallow, vapid interactions you were accustomed to in the dating world. With Harry, you could truly be yourself - he somehow coaxed out your authentic self that you typically kept heavily guarded. 

At the same time, you were in absolute awe of the whirlwind of depth and experiences that defined Harry's life. His stories of touring the globe, writing deeply personal lyrics, collaborating with musical icons - they all painted a vivid portrait of an artistic soul soaring to brilliant creative heights. You drank in every glimpse into his inner world like a lifeline to another realm of existence.

Yet whenever you'd express feeling unworthy of his profound love and admiration, Harry was quick to sweetly rebuff you.

"Y/N, you dazzle me more than anything I've experienced in this mad career of mine," he insisted one evening over a cozy home-cooked meal you'd prepared. Catching your hand across the table, his green gaze pinned you in place. "Don't you see? Your warmth, your light, your way of finding detailed beauty in such seemingly ordinary moments - that's what enchants me. You make me want to shed all the superficial trappings of fame and just...be."

You felt yourself falling deeper and deeper, tumbling into an intimacy more profound than you'd ever imagined. If Harry hadn't told you himself that he'd only had a few relatively tame celebrity girlfriends in the past, you'd never have believed his immense experience from the way he worshiped you.

"So responsive, so gorgeous," he rasped against your swollen lips, calloused fingers stroking delirious patterns over your sensitized skin. "God, I could spend eternity between your legs”

Those stolen passionate encounters, tangled up and gasping one another's names with wild abandon, only added to your lovestruck infatuation. You felt deeply seen and cherished on a soul level, like you were both puzzle pieces finally slotting seamlessly together.

In the dreamy, lust-addled haze of new love, you almost didn't notice the growing tension in Harry's manner as typical relationship pressures began encroaching. Paparazzi grew increasingly aggressive in tracking his day-to-day movements whenever out in public. Well-meaning friends expressed concerns about the obvious strain he was under from lack of a romantic life in the public eye. And perhaps most troubling, his management team forcefully "suggested" it was time for him to embark on a high-profile PR romance to capitalize on album promotion and touring.

Harry had looked utterly fed up that evening when he broke the news, pacing in your living room.

You watched him apprehensively. "They want you to do...what? You mean...go along with a staged relationship? Like have a beard or something?"

"No! Absolutely not, I won't do it. I won't treat you like some secret, and I refuse to fake anything in my private life for publicity."

"Harry..." you tried to soothe him, rising to your feet and rubbing his tense shoulders. "I understand the pressures you're under-"

"No, you don't!" He rounded on you with surprising intensity. "You don't get it, Y/N. You are the best, most precious thing in my world - my safe harbor from all the bullshit fake expectations. I won't sully what we have with PR lies. I just...won't."

His words were at once incredibly romantic and terribly naive. As much as you longed to stay cocooned in the warm, intimate bubble of your relationship, you knew the real world would inevitably intrude. Harry was a public figure on a massive scale, his romantic life constantly scrutinized. For the sake of his livelihood, he might not have any choice but to bend to the publicity machine's demands.

***

Those first seeds of conflict only blossomed further over the following weeks as the PR relationship issue remained unresolved. You did your best to stay supportive and understanding, but it was a challenge keeping your own hurt and insecurities at bay.

"I just don't see what the big deal is," Harry groused one evening over a tense dinner. "So what if they want me to go out a few times with some model or actress, let the paps get pictures? It doesn't mean anything to me."

You poked at your food sullenly. "It's not that simple though, is it? Couldn't something like that, even if fake, seriously complicate things for us?"

He reached across to squeeze your hand. "Baby, you know you're the only person who matters to me. A little PR sham doesn't change how utterly mad I am about you."

But it did change things, whether Harry wanted to admit it or not. The striking difference in how he treated you, his real partner behind closed doors, compared to how he'd have to pretend with someone else for public consumption - it stung deep.

One night shortly after, you were cuddled up watching a movie when Harry's phone started incessantly buzzing. Pulling it out with a furrow in his brow, he quickly scanned a series of messages and emailed photos. An unmistakable look of chagrin crossed his face.

"What is it?" You asked, unable to ignore the sinking feeling in your gut.

Harry sighed, shoulders slumping. "Looks like the publicity team is really pushing ahead. They've, uh, they've arranged for me to be caught having dinner with Kendall Jenner tomorrow night."

Your heart plummeted as an uneasy feeling settled over you. This was really happening - right before your eyes, your private intimacy was being infiltrated with PR lies.

"So you're...going to be going out with her? In public, on a fake date, while the whole world watches?" You tried and failed to keep the hurt out of your voice.

"Not a date!" Harry was quick to insist, shifting closer to pull you into his arms. "Y/N, you have to understand this doesn't mean anything. It's all just smoke and mirrors, love. You're my world, I promise."

You wanted so desperately to believe him. But the lingering ache still took root somewhere deep inside as you watched the paparazzi frenzy ignite over Harry's "outing" with Kendall. Photos of the two models laughing intimately over drinks and dinner plastered every gossip rag and website for weeks. 

It soon became a narrative that followed Harry everywhere - probing reporters shouting questions about whether he and Kendall were officially an item now. Rabid fans prying him online, trying to get every new shred of detail on the new, perfect couple.

"Hey, come here," Harry murmured soothingly whenever he saw the sadness and uncertainty cloud your eyes. He'd pull you into his chest, peppering kisses over your face. "I'm yours, baby, only yours. None of that bloody circus matters to me, I hope you know that."

You wanted to have his quiet confidence, truly. The way Harry could compartmentalize the fake PR relationship and his very real feelings for you with such clear separation. But it didn't stop the anxiety slowly gnawing away at your trust and security.

Increasingly, special romantic gestures from Harry felt like overcompensation for all the public affection he was faking with Kendall. When he'd surprise you with extravagant getaways to exotic locales, you couldn't fully relax into the pampering without wondering how much of it was just hiding guilt. And his constant reaffirmations of his love and devotion started ringing hollow amidst the growing circus his life was becoming.

The worst of it came at one of his first concerts after the publicity whirlwind began. You'd been so looking forward to experiencing the screaming crowds in a whole new light as Harry's actual partner, not just a casual fan. But the huge video screens kept flashing candid photos and fake couple shots of Harry holding hands and hugging Kendall, selling their phony romance to the fans.

You couldn't hold back the tears slipping down your cheeks as Harry serenaded the arena full of thousands, having no choice but to play along with the charade on the world stage. He caught your eye for just a second during the encore, and his smile instantly morphed into a look of sheer sorrow and guilt, looking at your tear-ridden face. He knew you, even if he stood so much away from you.  But there was nothing he could do then except push forward with the manufactured story.

That night after the concert, an emotional Harry fell into your arms the moment you were alone in his dressing room. He clung to you desperately, peppering apologies across your tear-stained and defeated face.

"God, Y/N, I'm so sorry," he rasped, emerald eyes awash with remorse and frustration. "Seeing you hurting like that because of this bloody sham...it killed me. You have to know how madly in love I am with only you."

You nodded, finding it hard to speak past the lump in your throat. Of course you knew, deep down, that Harry loved you wholly. His attentiveness, the intense spark of intimacy and passion between you, the emotional connection - it was all achingly real. This PR relationship was merely a toxic byproduct of his celebrity, something massively unfortunate but not defining your actual bond.

And yet...Harry couldn't deny the growing chaos enveloping his personal life. The fake romance was now Priority One to his team, staged and milked for every ounce of publicity. Constant video calls and strategy sessions mapped out each calculated move - where Harry and Kendall would stage a coffee run for the paps, when they should be papped holding hands emerging from a nightclub, how often they should update their couple-y Instagram shots together.

Harry grew increasingly sullen and withdrawn the more deeply engrossed he became in maintaining the facade. And you couldn't ignore the mounting jealousy and hurt rapidly corroding, chipping away your self-esteem and faith in the relationship.

***

"Maybe...maybe we should take a break," you finally broached one afternoon after an especially grueling set of publicity demands. Harry's head whipped up from where he was moodily going over plans for an upcoming awards show appearance.

"What? Why would you say that?" There was an edge of panic in his tone. He looked shocked, but you knew it was a long time coming.

You shrugged. "Harry, can you honestly tell me you don't resent me at all for the toll this whole – charade has taken? That some part of you doesn't wish you could just live your life freely without me holding you back from giving publicity stunts like this your full effort?"

He immediately rushed to gather you into his arms. "No! Never, Y/N. You're my world, my everything. Without you, all this would mean nothing!”

Burying your face into the strength of his shoulder, you wished you could cling to his words and find comfort there once more. But the turmoil swirling around you was rapidly becoming too overpowering.

"I'm just...I'm so tired of feeling like an afterthought, Harry. Of being the dirty little secret you have to hide away while flaunting someone else to the world. I can't keep living like this, sinking into doubt and jealousy constantly."

Harry's arms tightened around you convulsively. "Don't say that, my love. You could never be an afterthought to me. I need you here, by my side, to keep me grounded and remind me of what's truly real."

Though his words warmed your heart, you found yourself pulling back to gaze at him searchingly. "Then prove it. Enough with the grand romantic gestures, the desperate promises. I need you to actually fight for me, for us, instead of just going along with everything. Either that, or–” the lump in your throat deepend, “ –you can let me go”

Harry was taken aback by your words. But still, there was a part of him that didn;t fully understand what you were going through.  "You know it's not that simple, Y/N. One wrong move that tanks this publicity team's plans and my entire career could crater."

"So what?" you challenged, tilting your chin defiantly. Harry wasn't the only one being forced to make impossible choices. "Is the career really more important than your actual life, your happiness in a real relationship? Because I love you with everything, but I can't keep sacrificing my sense of self-worth and spinning out into reckless jealousy every waking moment just so you can have the best of both worlds."

"I...you have to understand, none of this publicity shite actually matters to me. Not really. It's all a smokescreen that will fade away eventually. But you, us - this love is my truth, my be all and end all. Don't give up on me, baby. I'll fix this, I swear it."

You wanted so badly to believe the desperation in Harry's voice. But the ache of sadness and insecurity had burrowed too deeply. What once would have swept you up in romantic adulation now just hollowed you out further.

"I really hope you can, Harry," you rasped, pulling away with immense reluctance. "Because I can't keep holding my breath waiting for the other shoe to drop much longer. This half-life just isn't enough anymore.I can't, Harry.I can't keep living like this."

Harry looked hurt now. He knew it was only a while before it all came shattering down, but the thought of Y/N walking away felt like a shard of glass lodged in his heart. 

"From this moment on, things change," he rasped. "No more bowing to bloody publicists and image managers. My truth, our bond, comes before anything else. You're about to become my permanent bloody shadow, love."

A smile curved your lips at his words. Reaching up to trace the sharp edge of his chiseled jaw, you felt a wave of relief and renewed hope. "Well, I do make a devilishly charming shadow, if I say so myself."

Harry's gaze drank you in like a man rewarded with an infinite oasis after years of directionless wandering. "That you do, baby. No more hiding that radiant light of yours, yeah? "

He sealed the vow with a kiss that seared straight through to your bones. You clung to him, every brush of his hands and velvet tongue rekindling the deepest intimacy between you two. 

When you finally pulled apart, chasing oxygen, Harry made an immediate move to sweep you up into his arms like a blushing bride. "Come on, love. Let's go remind the world of who they're dealing with, shall we?"

You looped your arms around his neck with a giddy laugh as he strode through the penthouse with you cradled protectively to his chest. Despite his determination, his hold was soft, cherishing. Like you were something infinitely precious to be handled with utmost care, or you would break.

Without explanation, Harry marched you both out and down to where a sleek black car was out front, the doorman quickly ushering you inside the backseat. Once the privacy partition rolled up, Harry immediately turned to you.

"I mean it, every word," he stated plainly. "No more deceptions or hiding our connection. From here it's full transparency and only the truth."

you felt overcome by tenderness and awe. "So...does that mean an end to the fake relationship with Kendall then?"

"Among other things," Harry confirmed without hesitation. To your surprise, he reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone and thumbed it open to the camera app, situating you both in the frame. "We're going to document and share every moment of us, the real us. Let my supporters and fans see who truly holds my heart before all others."

You blinked in astonishment as he looped an arm around your waist, pulling your bodies flush as the camera captured. Was this really happening? After all your heartbreak and insecurity brought on by that disastrous PR relationship, was Harry truly throwing it all to the wind?

That was clearly his intention as he leaned in to nuzzle your cheek dotingly, snapping pic after sweet pic of shameless embraces and intimate caresses being exchanged between you. Each time the shutter clicked he murmured loving adorations, his focus immovable.

"Gorgeous girl...my forever woman...heart and soul of my entire world..."

You blinked back tears. When was the last time you'd felt this elevated by Harry's worshiping? Your shaky exhales intermingled hotly as he maneuvered you fully into his lap, slanting his mouth hungrily across yours.

"My everything," he growled against your lips before kissing you breathless.

"Harry..." you finally managed to gasp out as you pulled apart, "what are you doing? If you post those shots, then-"

"Then the whole world will know I'm mad for you, and only you," he said, with nothing but seriousness and devotion in his voice,  "No more closeting my actual partner away like a mistress to be hidden from disapproving eyes. You're the only romantic relationship fully grounded in truth that the world needs to be focused on."

You shivered at the assurance in his tone. This was really it - the definitive line in the sand. And with Harry looking at you the way he was, you couldn't find it in yourself to argue or question further. You simply melted into his heat, losing yourself in the incredible feeling of being staked as his claim.

With a few taps, Harry posted the first of intimate photos and captions that set the internet instantly ablaze. Breathy confessions of forever love intermingled with searing makeout shots - it was a rush of letting go of months of pent-up passion and adoration for the world to finally bear witness.

All the while, Harry refused to tear his stare from worshiping every inch of your body. His broad palms trailing over the exposed curves of your hips, waist, the swell of your breasts - anchoring you fully into the present.

Your social media was immediately swamped by a plethora of comments, tags and speculation over the tsunami wave of intimate reveals. Harry's fanbase seemed to have divided between celebration and outrage over their beloved idol being so thoroughly claimed by an average nobody. 

More jarring, however, was the media/PR teams' explosive reactions. Both your phones blew up with frantic calls and enraged messages demanding explanations and emergency meetings. As expected, the team working to orchestrate Harry's fake relationship with Kendall were melting down over the sheer negligence of you both, and damage control now being initiated.

For a long while, you both simply ignored it, too immersed in devouring the rebirth of your connection to spare any attention elsewhere. You reveled in being subjected to Harry's fervent, undivided worshipping as his fingertips and lips swept across every velvet hollow and slope. His sensual assault was purposefully overwhelming, etching his permanent claim over your quivering form.

"They'll keep the noise up for a while, try spreading all sorts of misinformation and manipulation to regain control of the narrative," Harry finally mumbled without breaking the rhythm of stripping you bare and lavishing undivided attention over each exposed new expanse of satin flesh.

You shivered beneath him, and he tilted your chin up with a knuckle to capture your gaze, "But none of that shite matters now, okay? All that matters is that I’m all yours now. Only yours.:

And you were never letting him go.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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[vbecker10]

Can you do one where reader and Loki have a really bad day and get into an arguement over the phone before they get home then someone attacks reader and she is stuck in an alleyway. Loki starts getting worried because she wasn't home for dinner so Loki goes to look for her and asks his brother and the avengers if they have seen her. He later finds her in an alley right outside unconscious? Ends in fluff?? Or something like that?

Running into Trouble

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You and Loki have recently started dating and get into a fight after you have both had a long, stressful day. You go out for a run to clear your head and end up being attacked, which is Loki's worst fear.

Warnings: arguing, very protective Loki, getting mugged / attacked (not shown), minor injuries, feeling weak, but not to worry there is a fluffy ending as requested

A/N: I love this request! I'm sorry it took me so long to get to it. Also, I think running is evil but I'm this way about going for walks after work so that's kinda where the idea came from. Thanks so much for sending this! I hope you like it! 💚

Thanks @soubi001 for the title and letting me bounce ideas for the end off you! 🙂

"Come in," Loki answers when you knock on his office door. He looks up from the papers on his desk and smiles when he sees you. "Hello darling," he says happily as he gets up to meet you.

"I missed you," you tell him, putting your arms around him.

He chuckles, "I saw you half an hour ago."

"And yet, I still miss you," you smile up at him.

One of his hands rests on your lower back and he leans down, bringing his lips to yours. Your fingers gripping the fabric of his black dress shirt, you may have seen him a few times today but this is the first time you've kissed him since you left his room this morning.

"I should have you reassigned as my case agent," Loki offers with a smirk. "Then you will be stuck with me."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" you ask, raising your eyebrow.

"A bit of both I imagine," he jokes. "I need to finish up a few things and then we can get dinner," he says, letting go of you to walk back towards his desk.

"Take your time, I'm gonna go for a short run," you say, adjusting your backpack to hint that your running clothes are inside.

"I wish you wouldn't," his playful tone vanishing instantly as he faces you again.

"I'll be fine," you wave off his concern like you always do. "The park is only a few blocks from here and it's not even dark yet."

"It will be dark by the time you are finished. Why can't you use the incredibly large, state of the art gym Stark is constantly raving about? It seems to be good enough for the super soldiers," he tries harder than usual to sell you the idea of the gym.

"You know I hate running inside. Treadmills are so boring, I feel like a hamster," you try not to whine but you're tired of having this conversation.

He chuckles at your reference and shakes his head. "They do have a track," he suggests even though he knows you dislike that too.

"Loki, it's sweet that you worry about me but you don't need to. I'll make it short, just half an hour," you walk slowly towards him but he seems unconvinced. "Then a quick shower and I'll be all yours," you put your arms around his neck and look up at him.

"All mine?" he asks, his smirk returning as his hands settle on your waist, pulling you close to him.

You giggle and hold eye contact with Loki, "Yep, all yours."

He leans down to kiss you, his hands keeping your body flush to his as his lips move against yours. When you break the kiss he touches your cheek lightly and says, "I will always worry about you, love. Please be safe and enjoy your run."

You check your watch for the third time and although it's already 5:45, it seems as if this meeting will never come to an end. It's your seventh and thankfully final meeting of the day but you aren't sure how much longer you can sit here for. Another hour later, Steve finally dismisses everyone and you head straight to the locker rooms in the gym. All you can think about is going outside, listening to music and running as hard as you can to let go of the stress that has built up throughout the day.

You get changed quickly then call Loki on speaker phone while putting on your sneakers. "Hello darling," he answers, the usual excitement you hear is missing from his voice.

"Hi Loki," you reply and take him off speaker as you get up from the bench. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, sorry it's just been a very long day," he replies.

"Same," you tell him, checking that your keys and wallet are in your bag before putting it into the locker. "Do you want to get dinner when I'm back from my run?"

"You're going for a run now?" he asks. "It's almost 7."

You turn back suddenly and open the locker again to retrieve the gift Loki gave you last week, slipping it into your hoodie's pocket as you leave the room. "I know it's late but that last meeting went way over. Steve asked if anyone had questions and Scott had a ton, most of which were completely off topic of course," you complain, rolling your eyes. "It'll be short I promise. I just need to be outside for a bit."

"Y/N, just skip it tonight," he insists, sounding more annoyed than worried. "It's already dark."

"The park has lights," you reply quickly. You walk to the elevators and zip up your thin hoodie.

"I'm tired of you fighting me on this. Just run in the gym," his tone is stern, making it sound like an order not a suggestion.

"I don't like to run inside. You know that so stop telling me to do it," you feel aggravated by the conversation and his attitude towards you. When the elevator arrives you get in and tell him, "I'll be back in an hour, you can eat without me if you don't want to wait."

"I don't care about what time we eat, I care about you listening to me," he says firmly.

"I am listening to you but you aren't listening to me," you counter, your voice raising to match his. "You don't get it. I spend all day sitting at a desk staring at a computer screen, the window in my office doesn't even open. I need to go outside. I want to feel the breeze and see the sky so I can unwind."

"You are being ridiculous," he says, you can tell he is not going to give up his side of the argument any time soon.

"Seriously, I'm the one being ridiculous?" you ask as you reach the ground floor.

"Yes. What would you prefer? That I not worry about you?" he asks.

"Ugh! No, of course not but you can't just force me to stay inside," you try not to scream as you enter the lobby. "Why are you making this so difficult tonight?"

"Fine, I will make it easy for you. You want to run, go run," he says and you stop walking, shocked by his words and harsh tone. "You repeatedly ignore my concerns and dismiss my suggestions without a moment of consideration so why should I continue to voice my thoughts to you? Do whatever you want Y/N, you always do."

Before you can respond, Loki ends the call.

You look down at your phone, gripping it tightly. Your first instinct is to call Loki back and yell at him for hanging up on you, instead you take a deep breath and set your phone to do not disturb. Putting on your headphones, you select one of your favorite playlists and hit shuffle as you step out onto the sidewalk. You feel the cool fall breeze on your face and turn south towards the park.

Jogging slowly, you gradually make the music louder and louder to drown out your racing thoughts and Loki's harsh words. Your headphones beep when you adjust them again to alert you that they have reached their maximum volume. You sigh, leaving them as is for the first time in months, typically you made sure you limited the volume so you could still hear your surroundings but you want to block everything out tonight.

You enter the park from the same entrance as always and when your feet hit the loose gravel you pick up speed. The route you take through the park varies daily, picking random turns and directions based on how crowded it is or which path seems to call to you at the moment. You force away the meetings that filled your day, the piles of paperwork waiting for you in the morning and your fight with Loki. Your mind drifts, focusing on the music blasting through your headphones, the ground under your feet and how hard you are breathing in the brisk air.

Unfortunately, what you are not focused on is the three men who have been following you since your last turn.

Loki gets up from his couch and paces back and forth with his phone in his hand. You have only been gone for ten minutes but he knew the second he hung up that he had made a terrible mistake. He sighs, running his fingers through his hair then he texts you.

<I'm so sorry I spoke to you like that and I never should have hung up on you. I did not mean to start a fight. Can we talk when you get back? Please be safe.>

He hits send and stares at the screen waiting for you to reply. He knows your headphones can read you text messages and you always responded back using the voice to text function. It never failed to make him laugh, the texts you replied with were usually just a bit off since your phone could never quite understand you while you were running.

Another ten minutes pass without a reply from you so he tries again.

<Y/N, I understand you are upset with me and you should be. I am sorry for how I behaved and I will apologize again and again when you get back but please respond to me. I just want to make sure you are okay.>

There was another reason he grew to like the voice to text function, you always responded immediately. You know how much he worries about you, so being able to quickly tell him where you were or when you were coming back put him at ease.

He sits heavily on his couch and after only two minutes pass, he stands up and calls you. Pacing again, he listens to it ring once then go directly to voicemail. His stomach drops instantly, you had either declined his call the second it rang or your phone was off.

He shakes his head, knowing your phone would never be off, you always listened to music when you ran. He calls you a second time but again it goes straight to voicemail. He doesn't bother to leave you a message, instead he leaves his room and heads down the hall as he tries for a third time to reach you.

"Thor, I need your help," Loki says with a touch of panic in his voice when he reaches the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" Thor asks, turning from his snack on the island.

"Y/N went for a run and she's not answering me," he tells his brother.

"Did you do something stupid?" Tony jokes as he closes the fridge.

"Yes, but that is not the point," Loki snaps, turning towards him. Tony's smile fades when he sees how serious Loki is. "She always answers, always. Something is wrong, I know it."

"Alright, just calm down," Tony says, trying to hide his growing concern. "She's probably just mad at you for whatever it is you did. Let me call her." Loki nods, hoping Tony is right but after only a few seconds, he looks at his phone and shakes his head. "She didn't answer," he confirms Loki's fear.

"J.A.R.V.I.S.," he wakes up the computer system in the Tower, "Get me a location for Y/N's phone now."

"Searching," it responds, Loki holds his breath nervously as it works. A moment later it answers, "The last known location for Y/N's phone is from 10 minutes ago. I cannot find a current location. The device has been switched off."

"No, she wouldn't do that," Loki insists, looking at his brother. "We need to find her."

"We will," Thor assures him, resting a hand on his shoulder to try and calm him.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., get the team down here. We have an emergency," Tony tells the computer system. "Bring up a map of the park and Y/N's last known location. Overlay that with the route she takes when she runs." A large holographic map of the park appears in the air in front of Tony as he talks to the program.

"She takes a different route each time," Loki interrupts Tony and he nods.

"Ok, use the data from her phone's history to show the last three weeks on the map," he corrects himself. "Maybe we can see a pattern in where she runs, it would help us find her quicker than searching the whole damn park."

The team enters the park from the same entrance you use every day and then they quickly make their way towards your last known location. Thor and Loki turn south while Steve and Tony head north, calling your name as they move down each path. Clint, Scott and Natasha take the trail that leads east. SHIELD agents spilt off to show your picture to people in the park in the hopes that someone saw you.

"Loki, look," Thor stops suddenly and points to a thin trail of blood droplets.

"Y/N!" Loki calls again as they both pick up their pace, following the blood trail deeper into the park. The blood drops continue across the gravel and Loki's heart begins to pound wildly in his chest as they approach one of the stone tunnels. Just before the entrance to the underground pathway is a small pool of blood and Loki nearly trips at the sight of it under one of the street lights.

The two brothers slow their pace cautiously and Loki calls for you once more as they enter the tunnel. "Gods, she's here!" Loki tells Thor who immediately radios everyone your location and tells them they need to send the medical team.

Loki kneels next to your unconscious body, terrified that the blood they had followed is yours. He checks you carefully for injuries but you don't appear to be bleeding.

He breaths a small sigh of relief when you blink your eyes open and mumble, "Loki."

"I'm here," he whispers to you, your eyes briefly focus on him. "You're safe now, we're going to take you home." You try to nod but slowly slip back into unconsciousness. His hand moves to hold yours and he sees the small dagger he had given you still clutched tightly in your hand. The tip is covered in blood, but not yours and Loki is thankful for that.

You open your eyes slowly, unsure of where you are for a moment, the room seems so bright. You blink a few times until the room comes into focus, you realize your in the infirmary back at the Tower. Someone squeezes your hand gently and turn your head to see Loki sitting on a chair next to the bed.

"Hello darling," he says quietly. He smiles but you can see his eyes are full of worry. "How are you feeling?" You try to sit up and he puts his hand carefully on your shoulder to help. "Slowly," he tells you and you nod which causes the room to spin momentarily. "You don't have a concussion but Strange said you may be dizzy still from being knocked unconscious," he tells you when you close your eyes.

"What happened?" you open your eyes and ask instead of answering his initial question. Your memory of the night is filled with holes, fuzzy images and disconnected voices. The last thing you remember clearly was Loki hanging up on you in anger.

You watch nervously as his jaw tightens before he answers, "You were attacked in the park." You look away from him, feeling a wave of mixed emotions hit you at once. "There were three of them, we think. They stole your phone. J.A.R.V.I.S. is still sifting through the security footage from around the park, there were no cameras in the section where I found you," he says.

You don't respond to the knowledge that you had been attacked in the one place you felt most relaxed in the city. Slowly, you pull your hand free from Loki's as your thoughts begin to race. He had been right, you realize.

"Y/N, look at me, please," he says, trying to get your attention.

"Why?" you ask, looking up, your memory of his last words to you blend with your own negative thoughts. "So you can tell me that I should have listened to you? Fine, you were right. I'm just some weak human and I can't protect myself. Are you happy now?"

He touches your arm and you fight the urge to pull away again. "Y/N, how could you possibly think this would make me happy? I never wished for you to be hurt. This isn't a game and it is not some sort of win for me," he tells you and you can hear the hurt in his voice.

"You did win though, cause now I'll never run there again. I'll use the stupid gym like you always tell me to," you inform him, crossing your arms against your chest. You uncross them and look at your hands for the first time since you woke up, seeing a few small bruises forming along your knuckles. You raise your hand to lightly touch where your cheek is the most painful and Loki stops you, taking your hand carefully in his.

"You have quite a substantial bruise there, it will take a few weeks to heal," he tells you. "You didn't need any stitches though," he adds. "Your ribs and back have bruises as well, so it may hurt to sit up or lay down for the time being. Thankfully you don't have any severe injuries, Strange assured me that you only need rest and you will feel better in a few days."

While he describes your injuries, you let him continue to hold your hand but you avoid his eyes. "That's good," you mumble in response.

"You will be running again in no time," he says encouragingly.

"Loki, just stop it. I'm tired. Please, just say you told me so and get it over with so I can rest," you tell him.

He sighs, "No." You slowly lift your head then he continues, "I cannot describe the sheer panic I felt when I couldn't reach you. My worst fear is that something might happen to you while you are away from me and then it did and..." his voice trails off and he takes a deep breath.

"I was not right about anything," he tells you.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

"We both know you will be unhappy running inside," he says and you nod in agreement.

"I didn't realize how much running through the park means to you, especially after such a long day. I know you need it to unwind and calm you, I shouldn't have kept trying to change that part of you. The last thing I want is for you to give up something you love because of me," he tells you. "Or because of those pathetic mortals who hurt you."

"At least I would be safe running in the gym," you feel like giving up.

"So what am I supposed to do?" you ask him.

Loki is quiet for a few moments then he smiles and offers, "How about I run with you?"

"You hate running," you laugh and it makes your side ache.

"I do," he quickly agrees, "But I like you."

You pretend to be surprised, "You like me?"

"Very, very much," he clarifies and kisses your forehead.

"I appreciate the offer but it will be no fun if you're miserable," you say, squeezing his hand. "And stop making me laugh, it hurts."

You laugh again, holding your side in pain and smack his arm lightly. "Are you kidding? Do you know how fast they jog? At a full sprint I wouldn't be able to keep up."

"Sorry," he kisses the back of your hand. "How about you take a super soldier with you? They seem to enjoy it."

"You already gave me one of these," you remind him.

"Fair point," he says then he is quiet again and you can almost see his mind working to come up with a solution. "How about this?" He holds out his hand and a small dagger with a black leather handle appears in a flash of green light.

"Yes and from what we can tell so far, you used it exceptionally well," he praises you, making you blush.

"I think I did okay for having no idea what I was doing," you respond.

"Which is why I want to train you on how to use it properly. And I need you to promise that you will always answer me when you are running."

"I can do that," you smile and he smiles in return. "Now I need you to do one thing for me."

"Anything, darling," he promises.

"Can you hold me?" you ask. "I really am very tired."

"Of course," he answers. He carefully climbs onto the bed next to you and you rest your head on his shoulder. He kisses the top of your head and you close your eyes. "I'm so glad you are okay," he says then he waves his hand to turn off the brightest of the over head lights. He pulls the sheet up to cover you better and you snuggle against him as best you can without hurting your side.

You listen to Loki's slow, steady breathing and feel yourself drifting off quickly. His fingers run slowly through your hair and for the first time in your relationship, he whispers, "I love you."

You smile against his shoulder and whisper back, "I love you, too."

The next afternoon Loki leaves the Tower and begins the twenty minute walk south, following the directions he received from J.A.R.V.I.S. He enters the apartment building and climbs the five flights with his fists clenched. Checking the address again, he turns left down the hall, looking around at the peeling paint and worn carpet. He pauses in front of the door at the end of the hall, listening to the raised voices inside.

"Here's your cut," a man with deep voice says. "I know it's not much but that's all I could get for the phone."

"This is bullshit," someone else responds. "All those tourists and we jump the only person who didn't even have a wallet."

A third voice complains, "I still think I should get more than you two idiots. That bitch stabbed me and I'm only gonna get fifty freaking bucks."

Loki's dark green dress shirt and black pants are replaced by his leather armor and gold horned crown in a cloud of green smoke. The man tries to slam the door shut but Loki catches it easily with one hand. Your attacker backs into the apartment and Loki follows slowly.

A smile slowly spreads across Loki's lips, knowing that he is in the right place. He knocks on the door and waits. A tall, thin man opens it, his attention focused on the other men inside still talking. "Shut up," the one at the door says then he turns to Loki and he goes still in an instant.

Once inside, he slams the door shut with a wave of his hand as the other two men get up. "What the fu-" one of them starts to ask but Loki shakes his head and silences him.

"You three hurt someone I care for very deeply, and that simply won't do," he says. The green glow from his magic seeps out from under the door and out into the hallway.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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[pixiiipie]

Would love to see what happens when reader actually does make Zayne wear a vibrator when they play kitty cards. Maybe add some extra rules to the game, but not too unfair. It's only on when it's readers turn, but she takes an awfully long time to decide which cards to play.

hmm what would be better? turning it on during our turn or his? i love both so much!

during our turn, we can play for as long as we’d like and enjoy him squirming. he definitely won’t be paying attention to our action cards so you could easily throw whatever you’d like at him and there is a very low chance he’ll stop it. maybe keep it on a low setting where, when you start, it’s enough for him and all he can do is whine but as the game goes on it just makes him crave more! maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll get little breathless “please”s accompanied with the cutest expression. zayne tries very hard to not be too desperate but you’ve said how you love it and he can’t get that out of his head. he’s trying so hard not to hump his hand and pay attention to you.

or turn it on during his turn. once he plays a card he can’t undo it so he’ll end up making stupid mistakes and missing out on points. mess with the intensity and listen to his breathing change and how he has to keep himself upright on his arms and the table. he tries to keep his breathing steady but every breath is shaky and it’s very difficult not to whine. he tries to make his turn go on for as long as he can to enjoy the vibrations but as soon as you catch on, you turn it off. it’s easy to see the disappointment in his eyes though he tries his hardest not to show it. he’ll quickly finish his go after that. spend as long as you need on your turn here too! make him wait and tease him by being indecisive but just not too much. he can only take so much before he winds himself up and stops enjoying himself.

he’s not super vocal and especially since he knows if he tries to speak it’ll be embarrassing but his attempts at surprising his moans get worse and worse as time goes on. maybe ‘forget’ it’s your turn to have a drink. he’ll have to talk then. “mmmngh i-it’s your turn.” zayne cringes at how pathetic he sounds but you just replay it over an over. no need though. just pretend you didn’t hear him or didn’t understand what he said. he knows your game but will repeat himself as many times as you want him too. such a good boy.

is he allowed to cum when you win? that’s too easy. he won’t be playing well anyway. he can only cum when he wins since he’s so good at this game. he can barely concentrate though! all he wants is you he doesn’t care about the game but he has to be good and follow your orders. you (sometimes) follow his when he’s being your doctor, now you’re both not working, he must listen to you (something he finds very easy though he won’t admit it). if he does manage to win (you may need to throw a round if he’s struggling a little) please reward him with lots of praise! such a clever boy you have and he’s been so good not cumming i think we need to change that. he’ll babble ‘i love you’ and ‘thank you’ like a prayer and cling onto you when he does finish.

even sitting across from him makes you feel like you’re worlds apart. he loves it when you touch him- sexual or sweetly- so only being able to stare at you from across the table is painful (for both of you honestly. he looks utterly delicious you wish you could kiss him). make sure to praise him lots!! such a sweet boy he deserves it and he’s doing so well for you. maybe some degrading mixed in- he’s heard lots of praise in the workplace so switch it up a little. make sure to be careful though, he’s very vulnerable with you so you’ll just have to gage how far you can go. try call him a pretty slut though <3 he has something in his ass/on his cock yet he still wants more? greedy boy. he’ll do anything for your hands on him. he needs to feel your warmth all over him in any way.

“p-please… i just-haaah… n-need you hnng ple-ease.”

[beskarandblasters]

For You, I Would Ruin Myself

Part Four of Time, Wondrous Time

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist | AO3

Series summary: You’re California Crest Studios’ newest production assistant, getting the opportunity to work on the hit movie, The Man From Deadhorse. But when you meet the movie’s lead, Cooper Howard, you fall head-first into a secret affair. Enter a war, a cryogenic freezer, and a two-hundred-year time jump. And yet despite all that, you just might run into him again.

Chapter summary: An end and a new beginning. Big feelings come to the surface at the The Man From Deadhorse premiere and Reina offers you a deal you can't pass up.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied and wears a dress/makeup, oral sex (F receiving), semi public sex, vaginal sex, pull out method, pet names (sweetheart, love), angst, no use of y/n

It’s been four months since you’ve seen Cooper at Emil’s house. And to say you’ve been going through withdrawals would be an understatement. You’ve been so busy since then, diving headfirst into a new production at the studio, one without Cooper, of course. The only benefit of the new production is being there right from the start. You luckily made a small group of friends so you’re not forced to eat lunch alone anymore. 

And even though things are looking up in your career, you can’t help but miss those wild nights with Cooper in his trailer. January can’t come fast enough. 

-

Before the holiday season gets intense, you decide you need to shop for a dress for the premiere, thinking about calling Reina and asking if she wants to go with you. You haven’t seen her in a while so you figure this time would be nice for you two to catch up. Plus, getting a second opinion on the dress would be nice. It’s a nerve-wracking night littered with celebrities and cameras; if there was ever a time to be self-conscious about your outfit, it’s the night of the premiere. 

You call up Reina, hoping she’s free this afternoon. Ever since she started working for Vault-Tec you’ve been hearing from her less and less. Cooper made it sound like Barb was busy all the time, too. What is it about this company that pulls people farther and farther away from their personal lives?

“Hey, are you free today?”

“For once, I am.”

“Wanna go shopping? I need a dress.”

“Sure. Give me like an hour to hop in the shower and then I’ll come get you.”

“Sounds good!”

After getting ready you wait for her outside, swiftly hopping in her passenger seat once she stops the car.

“So what do you need a dress for?” she asks, getting straight to the point. 

“The Man From Deadhorse premiere.”

“You were invited?! That’s amazing!”

“Emil gave me a ticket as a thank you for joining the production so late.”

“When is it?”

“Not until January but I figured it’s better to get the dress now before the holiday season.”

“Smart.”

The afternoon is spent with your best friend, trying on copious amounts of dresses and catching up. Once again, you get the urge to tell her about Cooper. It’s less risky to tell her now since production for The Man From Deadhorse is done. And considering you haven’t seen him in four months…

Still doesn’t hurt any less.

But something in your gut tells you that you shouldn’t tell her. You can’t help but listen. 

“So how’s work?” you ask, coming out of the dressing room with a sleek black gown. 

“First of all, that’s the best one you’ve tried on so far. And second, I love it but it’s sucking the life out of me.”

“How so?”

“I’ve been working nonstop on this one experiment.”

“What is it?”

She looks around and takes a few steps closer to you, whispering, “Cryogenically freezing people.”

“For what reason?” you ask, your eyebrows raising. 

“You know… In case there’s a war and we need to freeze people in the vaults.”

“Do you think that’s really gonna happen?”

“I hope not… But we can never be prepared.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” she smiles. “We’re about to start the process of looking for test subjects.”

“What does that entail?”

“Right now, we’re looking at freezing test subjects for a week.”

“Interesting…”

“Well?! What do you think?! I think this is the dress,” she says, changing the subject.

“I think so, too,” you say, turning and looking at yourself in the mirror. 

-

After buying the dress and having lunch, she drops you back home. You try on your dress again and think about Cooper’s reaction to see you in it– his slack jaw, eyes wide, trying to hide his reaction from Barb. You think about what he’ll be wearing: a black suit with his hair slicked back. God, you can’t wait to see him like that. January can’t come soon enough. 

-

A relatively normal holiday season passes and the premiere looms over your head. You spend the entire week violently anxious, thinking about all the people, all the cameras. And in the middle of all the commotion is Cooper, your calm amidst the storm. 

When the big day rolls around you spend hours getting ready– eating, hydrating, taking an everything shower, perfecting your makeup. You look over your appearance one final time in the mirror before the cab arrives– perfect, flawless even. You grab your ticket and slip it into your purse, putting on a brave face for the big evening.

-

Flashing lights. Paparazzi yelling from all angles. Your senses are overwhelmed. You’re not even someone “important” and yet they’re trying to get your attention left and right. You can’t imagine what it’s like for someone like Cooper.

But once they realize you’re not an actress you’re quickly ushered down the carpet. An enormous roar erupts behind you. You glance over your shoulder and your jaw drops. Somehow he looks even better than you pictured all those months ago. All black attire, slicked back hair, a confident saunter in his step. And beside him is his arm candy for the evening. You can’t deny she looks beautiful, wearing a floor-length red dress that compliments her skin perfectly. You’re feeling a weird mixture of jealousy, envy, and longing. 

The pair splits so Cooper can get solo pictures. Barb notices you and smiles, immediately heading in your direction. You freeze, your entire body going stiff with fear. Her smile is unsettling like she knows something you don’t. But you put on your best fake smile, hoping it’s coming across as genuine. 

“How are you?” she asks.

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Vault-Tec’s working me to death. It’s a miracle I was able to come with him tonight,” she says, gesturing toward Cooper. 

“It’s a big night for him. I’m glad they gave you the night off,” you lie. 

“It’s a big night for you, too. Celebrating the first film you’ve worked on.”

“Thanks,” you sigh, starting to relax a bit. That part felt genuine, at least you hope. 

“Of course,” she smiles. “Enjoy yourself tonight,” she says, heading inside the theater. She doesn’t wait for Cooper to finish his photos, which strikes you as odd. 

You walk inside and get situated in a seat, waiting for the movie to begin. Cooper eventually heads inside, sitting in the same row as you a few seats down. Barb is on the other side of him, staring directly out in front of her, not glancing in his direction. Another weird occurrence. It’s like they’re not even a married couple, only putting up a facade when the cameras are out. 

When Cooper finally looks over at you it’s right there and then you get the reaction you’ve been daydreaming about ever since you picked out your dress. His eyes look like they’re pleading with you, begging you to save him. You turn your head and glance at the back of the theater, looking for an exit. Hoping he’ll catch your drift, you get up and head into the lobby once the lights go down, looking for a bathroom. 

A faint glow of a single-stall bathroom sign is your beacon of hope. You make a beeline for it and close the door behind you, hoping he follows you. A faint knock and a whisper of your name confirm your prayers. You open the door and usher him inside, swiftly locking it and turning to face him. 

His hands immediately gravitate to your waist, pulling you close. His lips attach to your neck, muttering “I missed you” over and over again to your skin. He pulls back and looks at you, the same look in his eyes like all the times before. You reach your hand out and cup his cheek, stroking his clean-shaven face. 

“I missed you, too.” 

“I know it’s risky but… I need you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you for months.”

“You could’ve called.”

“I didn’t want to risk getting caught.”

“I get it,” you sigh. 

“I just miss what we had before, back when we were shooting.”

He’s right. Everything was so much easier back then when everything you wanted was within reach. The premiere feels like a symbolic end to this chapter of your life. But you’re not dwelling on the past tonight. You’re focusing on what’s right in front of you.

“But at least we have right now,” you smirk.

“That’s my girl… But you’re gonna have to be quiet this time. Think you can do that?” he teases.   

“Make me,” you shoot back. 

He grabs your hips and spins you around, prompting you to bend over the sink. He hikes up your dress, pulls your panties to the side. You watch in the mirror as he drops to the floor and soon enough you feel his tongue licking your cunt from behind. You fight the urge to let a moan slip past your lips, thinking about what he said, thinking about where you are. 

You clutch onto the sides of the sink for dear life, knees buckling underneath you as his tongue makes a mess of you. His hands grip your thighs, fingertips sinking into your soft flesh. You bite your lip as he works you up to the edge, tongue flicking around your clit expertly. It all comes to a head as your orgasm spills over, cunt clenching around nothing and begging to be filled already. You bite your lip harder, trying your best to stifle your whimpers and sighs. 

He stands up when he’s done, wiping his face with his fingers and tasting your wetness like he always does. He delivers a swift slap on your ass, pulling his cock out of his pants before collecting your release on his hand. He lubricates his cock and grabs your hips, pulling you into him. He expands your walls, sighing at the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him once more. You watch him in the mirror, his forehead already slick with sweat while he thrusts in and out of you. His perfectly slicked-back hair threatens to let loose with the movement of his thrusts, exerting primal energy as he fucks you. It’s so hard to stay quiet. You want to moan freely, letting everyone in this theater know who owns you, who’s making a mess of you, who’s making you feel pure euphoria. 

“Bet you missed this cock so much, huh, sweetheart?” he smirks, voice coming out as a gravelly whisper.

You know better than to open your mouth right now so you eagerly nod. 

“Then show me,” he says, leaning forward and whispering in your ear. “Cum on my cock like a good girl.”

As if his words have that much of a hold on you, you cum around him. Your walls clench and release him erratically, tears brimming on your lash line, almost rolling down your cheeks. God, you want to moan and scream, putting on a show for him like a good girl. But you know better and you keep silent, riding out your high in total bliss. 

He holds off his orgasm for as long as he can before pulling out and painting your ass with his cum. He curses under his breath, his voice low and filled with arousal. As good as that was, it almost felt like an end, a goodbye of some kind. He reaches for a paper towel and cleans off your ass, helping you stand up straight and smooth down your dress before returning his cock to his pants. 

“You look beautiful tonight,” he says, grabbing your hand. 

“Thanks,” you smile. 

“Give me a spin, sweetheart.”

You giggle and twirl for him, holding onto his hand the whole time. You wish you could do this for him out there. You wish could just be his. 

“I missed you,” you say again, looking at the floor.

“I know, love. I missed you, too,” he says, his voice somber. 

Love. 

Love.

Love!!!

It’s as if that new nickname triggered something within you because you decide to say fuck it.

“I have to tell you something.”

“Of course.”

“I want… more than this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to be more than your dirty little secret. I want us to be real.”

“Oh, I-”

“I think these past few months without you made me realize how much I need you.”

“Sweetheart… You know I adore you but I can’t give you that.”

Oh.

“I have a family to think about… I have a reputation to think about.”

“I know but I-”

“Think about this. This would affect your reputation, too. You’re just getting in the business.”

“Right…”

“You should be with someone who can give you the things you want… the things you deserve.”

Tears roll down your cheeks and they’re not showing any signs of stopping. What he’s saying is logically sound but it doesn’t hurt any less. The man you’ve gotten to know over these past few months is nothing more than a passing fancy. You were destined to be just a dirty little secret, one he’ll most likely take to the grave. But your heart is louder than your mind. And your heart is telling you to get far away from the man whose words are hitting you like a thousand tiny cuts, the reality of the situation breaking the facade with everything he says. 

“You’re right.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Don’t-” you say, voice cracking. 

You turn to leave but he grabs your hand. His other hand grabs your chin and forces you to look at him. There are tears in his eyes, too. He kisses you one last time, this one feeling different than any other kiss he’s given you. 

“Goodbye, Cooper,” you say, letting go of him for the last time. 

You leave the bathroom and race to the exit, power-walking as fast as your legs will carry you. Fuck the premiere. You need to get home now. You hail a cab and head home, trying to keep your meltdown at bay until you’re in complete solitude. 

Sitting on your bed you crumple into yourself, the weight of reality crushing you like a ton of bricks. It was foolish to think he’d ever give up his wife, his family, his reputation, all just for you. What you had was nothing more than passion, lacking the real love and intent behind a solid relationship. And now that the affair is over and done with, the clarity is setting in. You were doomed from the start. 

You fall asleep with your eyes in pain from all the crying. But at least it distracts you from your heavy heart. 

When you wake up in the morning, everything feels numb. You’re left in a puddle, feeling sorry for yourself. You call out of work for the day, giving a flimsy excuse so you can wallow in self-pity. 

But your phone’s ringtone rips you from your brooding. The overly optimistic side of hopes it’s Cooper. But the realistic side of you knows that it isn’t. You roll over and pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, I need to ask you a question and I need an answer quickly,” Reina says, her voice frantic. 

“…Okay?”

“Do you remember the cryogenic freezing experience I told you about?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Vault-Tec’s looking for people to test it out. You’d only be frozen for a day or two. If you say yes you’ll be paid a thousand dollars cash and you’ll be guaranteed a spot in the vault later on.”

“Oh wow. I-”

“Yes or no?”

The same impulsive urge from earlier kicks in and you decide to say fuck it. 

“Yes.”

“Great, thanks! I’ll pick you up tonight at seven.”

“Okay. See you then.” 

What could possibly go wrong? 

End note: Only one more part left!!! Part five will be coming on Monday! I just wanna thank @clawdee for beta reading this every step of the way. And I wanna thank all of you for reading! Stay tuned for a little surprise announcement at the end of the final part 🤍

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Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

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