#and i just need to do it in a way that approachable for me

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

A/N: another kofi commission!

Your naga lover was in rut, and you had been avoiding his den for the past few days per his request. He was hesitant to allow you in, since nagas had the tendency to squeeze their lovers tightly during passionate mating, and he really didn’t want to hurt you!

But 4 days in while you delivered food, you heard his whimpers and cries from deeper in the cave. It hurt your heart to know he was suffering all on his own.

You carried the basket full of eggs and meat, your footsteps echoing lightly along the cave walls. You didn’t really like visiting your lover here and much preferred when he came to your home instead, but right now he couldn’t leave his den.

While in rut, nagas were vulnerable to predators and could be killed due to how sensitive and weak they were at the time. It worried you, how could he even think you’d be able to stay away when your precious lover was in possible danger and pain!?

“B-baby, I’m coming!”

The sound of distressed whines and whimpers increased as you made your way further into the cave. A trail of a white, slimy substance led you to your poor, exhausted lover.

“I told you… not to come…”

His two cocks were poked out of his slit, his fist moving up and down the lengths as he panted and moaned. Precum gathered at the tip, his face flushed with embarrassment and need.

“How could I stay away when you’re suffering like this? Please… let me help you.”

You approached slowly, and he made no moves to stop you. Picking up your scent seemed to only worsen his current state. His cock twitched, and he was quick to pull you onto his lap.

“Fuck… you smell so good…”

His hands roamed your body, soft kisses being left along your neck and chest. Never before had he been so needy and affectionate.

Fangs brushed up against your skin with each lick and kiss. Every touch was gentle, he needed your body but he was also desperate for comfort and affection.

“It’s alright… I’m here for you, no more going through this alone…”

You guided his cocks towards your wet cunt, letting him rub his lengths between your fat pussy lips before sinking inside of you.

He had been inside of you many times before, but today it felt… different. His thrusts were quick and each movement of his hips caused him to cry out in bliss. It took very little to make your lover cum, and it was adorable to you.

“My sweetheart…” you murmured, your tongue dancing with his. Just a simple French kiss made him groan into your mouth, his hands gripping the fat of your hips.

“I l-love you…” he blubbered, crying tears of pleasure. Your chubby tummy was slightly bloated with his cum, and he couldn’t help but hold his hand over it as if hoping you’d become pregnant.

“I love you too…”

All through his rut, you were by his side. Every time he started to get needy, you’d sit on his cock and let him use you to get off.

It wasn’t all about sex, though. Sometimes all he wanted was for you to kiss his face and massage his lower half. His snake tail was in the middle of a shed, and your gentle hands helped his sensitive body feel less sore and sensitive.

You laid on a nest of furs, his head buried in your chest. His entire lower half was wrapped around you, using your body to keep himself warm as you sat on his cocks.

“Sorry… you must be tired. I’ve never taken on a mate… this is my first time going through a rut with someone who wanted to help.”

A giggle left your lips, and you played with his hair lazily. “Don’t worry about me, if I was tired I’d be sleeping. This is nice… I get to snuggle with you all I want.”

When his rut ended, your naga lover followed you home. In all honesty, he had gotten embarrassingly used to your presence and couldn’t sleep when he was all alone now.

As you got ready for bed, he soaked himself in your tub, watching you do your nighttime routine. “You humans do so much before you go to bed… can you hurry? I want to hold you…”

After brushing your teeth, you made your bed after being gone for an entire week. With a glance at your phone, you knew you’d be spending the next day or two returning missed call from worried loved ones.

“Alright, alright. Let’s get to bed.”

He cooked around you, his head nuzzling into your neck as you rubbed his back. After such an intense week, you were both ready to sleep without needing to wake up every hour so he could bury his cock inside of you.

The two of you snuggled up together, letting out content sounds in your sleep.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi @flamefoxx

[beloveds-embrace]

(Poly 141 x fem reader)

You had always been their sweetheart.

Soft, tender, and gentle- the heart of their home. The warmth in the spaces between them, the one they curled around after long days of violence, soothed by your touch and your voice, the way you cared for them without hesitation. No matter how much blood stained their hands, no matter what nightmares haunted their sleep, you were there. Unshaken. Unyielding in your love, hands gentle and soft as you cradled them close and warm.

So they had never needed to know about the things you kept buried.

The past you refused to unearth. The things you could do, the person you had been before them- before you had a home to call your own, before you had people who held you just as carefully as you held them.

They didn’t need to know, and you didn’t need to think about it.

Until they went missing.

You first learned something was wrong when John’s daily check-in didn’t come.

It had always been a habit of his, something he did without fail, no matter how far away he was. Just to let you know I’m breathing, love. That was what he had said, years ago, the first time he had explained it to you. You had teased him for it- What, you don’t trust me to not burn the house down?- but he had only smiled, voice steady and sure when he told you, I like knowing you’re safe.

It had never failed. Not once. Even when he himself could not text you, Lasswell herself assured you they were fine and merely had to be careful.

But now came the silence.

No messages. No calls. No updates.

You tried not to panic. They were on a mission, after all. Maybe something had gone wrong with their comms, or maybe they had been forced to go dark, and Lasswell was busy. It had happened before, and they had always come back to you, whole and alive, pressing their faces into your neck, murmuring apologies and reassurances.

But then a full week passed.

Then two.

And no one would tell you a thing and Lasswell wasn’t picking up, either.

You had tried- had called, had knocked on doors, had pushed until you were met with polite deflections and stone-cold refusals.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but that information is classified.”

“There’s nothing we can share at this time.”

“We appreciate your patience.”

Patience.

As if you would sit here, helpless, and just wait. Hopeless, and helpless, and unable to do a single thing to help then.

No. No, you had done that before. You had waited before. And it had cost you everything.

You weren’t that girl anymore. You weren’t a victim of circumstance, hoping for scraps of kindness, praying for someone to do right by you.

If no one would help, you would do it yourself; because they were yours, and they were the best thing that have ever happened to you, and you weren’t going to lose them.

Tracking them down was easier than you expected.

You had spent years curating the image of someone soft and harmless, someone not worth keeping secrets from. And people loved to talk. Especially when they thought you were just a grieving, desperate woman trying to find a lost fiancé and his friends.

All it had taken was a few well-placed words, a few tearful looks, and doors had opened.

It had taken only days to pinpoint their last known location, then. After you’d hunted down Laswell, and had her help you. Though you were glad to see that she was working to find out where they were, as well, and merely lacked the manpower because of some general named Shepherd.

You filed the name away for later thoughts.

A warlord with connections to arms smuggling in Eastern Europe. An old base, abandoned by one regime and taken over by another. And your men had been sent in to dismantle it.

But they hadn’t come back. MIA, the reports said.

You didn’t think. You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t care for those three letters. You moved.

You gathered supplies, mapped out your route, planned your approach with the precision of someone who had done it before. You emptied old caches, dusted off weapons you hadn’t touched in years, and set off.

The infiltration was clean; a single shadow among many, slipping between patrols, cutting down obstacles with silent, brutal efficiency. Years it may have been, you hadn’t gotten as rusty as you’d feared you’d be.

You had never been squeamish. You had learned long ago that softness had no place in survival- but it could thrive and bloom in the aftermath, a stubborn weed that eventually makes way for a full bouquet.

But this was different.

This was fury burning in your blood as you carved a path forward, every movement precise- you couldn’t afford any less.

You didn’t stop, no matter what.

Not until you found them at last, and your heart ached something fierce abd sharp in your chest.

Caged. Beaten. Bound but not broken- and drugged.

I should have been more rough, you mourn for a split second. An easy death was more mercy than what was deserved.

John’s head lifted first, eyes glassy and unfocused. “Love-?”

Then Simon, bloodied but breathing, his body sluggish with whatever chemicals they had pumped into him. Every part of him was covered in blood and cuts.

Johnny’s voice, then, hoarse and raw, full of disbelief and worry. “No. No, you’re not- this insnae real-“

And Kyle, whose breath hitched as you knelt beside him, gentle fingers brushing against his bruised face.

They thought they were dreaming; they thought you weren’t real.

And maybe that was a… mercy.

Because if they had been clear-headed, if they had seen what you had done to get here, if they had watched the way you had cut down anyone in your path with merciless efficiency-

They would have looked at you differently.

And you couldn’t bear that. To have their illusion of your gentleness shattered like that…

So you played along.

Whispered reassurances, pressed kisses to sweat-damp foreheads, untied their bindings with careful hands. You coaxed them to move, guided them through the corridors you’d emptied, wiped away the blood that dripped from their skinz

And when they sagged against you, too dazed to fight, too lost in the haze of their drugged delirium, you held them-

Kept them safe, and brought them home.

Later, they woke in a hospital, clean and stitched and safe.

You were already there, fussing over them, your voice soft and sweet, your fingers gentle as you pressed cool cloths to fever-warm skin, brushed stray curls from foreheads, adjusted pillows and blankets with quiet determination. Dressed in something white and pink, the colors of innocence, nails cleaned of blood even if your hands will never be truly clean.

You looked the same as ever.

Pretty and delicate, their lovely girl, their tender-hearted sweetheart.

And for all that had happened, all that they had suffered, all that you had done-

They never suspected a single thing, and you didn’t tell them; didn’t tell them that there had been no extraction team. That there had been no grand military rescue- not even from the the same military that had abandoned them.

(His name was General Shepherd. You will not forget it- you’d need to carve his name on the bullet you’ll save just for him, after all.)

That it had been you.

Only you.

Only Laswell knew the truth, and she would keep your secret because she understood what it meant to protect the people you loved.

And if you had to carry this weight alone to keep them from ever looking at you like you were something other-

So be it.

You sat beside John, pressing a kiss to his temple as his fingers curled weakly around yours.

You smiled at Simon when his hand brushed against your knee, seeking reassurance, seeking you, his eyes tired.

You let Johnny hold you, his arms tight around your waist as he mumbled something unintelligible against your shoulder, still half-lost in the remnants of the drugs.

And when Kyle murmured: “At leas’ you’re safe, pretty.” His voice thick with sleep-

You just smiled and ran your fingers carefully through his hair, and held them the way you always had.

And pretended that everything was exactly the same.

[maretinelli]

GESTURES OF LOVE

Lando Norris X fem!reader

Summary: When Lando shows his love for his girlfriend in cute little gestures and it makes her heart warm.

Words: 4.4K+

Warnings: Loving Land, mentions of marriage, college Y/n, mentions of teen dating, cute, happy couple, and romantic story

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar, and slang errors that may be present in the story. I love making stories like this, with different situations, if you have any more ideas, please send them to me!! ❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

That weekend, Y/n finally had a break from work and university. After tiring weeks, she decided to accompany Lando to a GP, taking the opportunity to spend more time with him.

Lando was beaming with her company, his smile left no doubt that he loved having her there, sharing a little of the world he loved so much.

The day seemed normal for a free practice session, but the city's weather didn't match the lively pace of the pits. The sky was dark, overcast, and the clouds threatened to collapse at any moment.

In the McLaren garage, Lando was getting ready to get into the car, checking some last details with the team. Before that, Y/n had gone out to get coffee for the two of them. She came out excited, greeting and chatting with other girlfriends of the drivers around the paddock.

Time passed too quickly as she laughed and was distracted by conversations, not realizing that the sky was getting even more overcast.

When he finally stopped at the paddock café to get his coffee, the first drops of rain began to fall. Within seconds, the water was pouring down with force, accompanied by thunder and lightning that lit up the sky.

Y/n shivered slightly at the noise, watching the storm take over the environment.

"What a crazy atmosphere, huh?" He commented, while the friendly waitress prepared the coffees.

"I don't think anyone expected this storm now." The woman laughed. "Well, at least you have some time for a hot coffee before training."

Y/n smiled in agreement, but was interrupted by the vibration of the cell phone in her pocket. When she picked up the device, she saw that it was a call from Lando. However, before she could answer, the call dropped. Then, several messages appeared on the screen:

Love💓: Where are you, darling?

Love:💓: How are you?

Love💓: Do you need anything?

She smiled at his concern before answering.

'I'm at the coffee shop! I got distracted talking to the girls and ended up taking a while, but I'm going now.'

Love💓: Stay there. I'm coming to get you.

'Lan, it's raining a lot. I'll wait a little and then come back, you don't need to get all wet.'

But he didn't even see it.

Y/n sighed, shaking her head.

No matter how much Lando said he loved her, she didn't just need to hear the words. She felt it in the small gestures, in the way he always paid attention to her, in the constant affection. And now, in the desperate way he went out to get her in the rain.

Minutes later, she saw a familiar figure walking through the paddock with an umbrella. Her eyes widened when she realized that Lando was practically soaked, even holding the umbrella.

As soon as he approached the coffee shop, Y/n came out and waited under the small balcony.

"You should have stayed inside, you crazy woman." Lando said, laughing when he saw her. "I'm here to rescue you, like a knight in armor searching for his princess in the castle."

She laughed, and when he held out his hand to help her down the two front steps, she held on tight, joining him under the umbrella.

The rain had calmed down a bit, but thunder still cut through the sky. As they walked back to the garage, Y/n held the two cups of coffee while Lando kept an arm around her shoulders, better protecting her from the rain.

"You really didn't have to come," she murmured. "I was going to come, love. Now you're all wet."

Lando smirked. "And leaving my girlfriend alone out there in the rain like this? Never."

She smiled, leaning against his shoulder as they walked together.

When they reached the garage, he dropped the umbrella in a corner and took her hand, guiding her to the pilot's room. Inside, Y/n placed the coffees on the table and began to tell him about the waitress at the coffee shop.

"She's very nice, Lan. In fact, she's studying the same course as me at university." She said, turning to look at Lando. "Of course, not at the same university because she doesn't live in Monaco." She laughed a little.

But he was busy rummaging through a suitcase until he pulled out some dry shirts and coats. Holding the pieces of clothing, he walked over to her and held them out.

"Change your clothes." He said simply. "You might catch a cold."

Y/n's eyes widened, laughing. "Lan... you're soaked! Look at you!"

In fact, he was completely soaking wet. His curls were streaming down his forehead, his McLaren papaya T-shirt looked a shade darker from the water, and a drop of rain slid down his cheek as he smiled at her.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He chuckled, noticing her stare. "Want a kiss?" Lando smirked.

Y/n shook her head, laughing and ignoring her boyfriend's teasing flirting. She just ruffled his slightly brown curls.

"You're the one who needs dry clothes here."

"I'll change right away," he insisted, still holding the clothes out for her.

Y/n sighed and picked up the clothes, but first asked: "Do you have any extra pieces for you too?"

Lando hesitated for a second before admitting, "No... But I'll put on the jumpsuit soon and, as soon as we get back to the hotel, we'll take a hot shower."

"Then I won't change. My clothes only have a few stains on them, and I can take off my sneakers and let them dry. You, on the other hand..."

Lando smiled and leaned closer, leaving a soft kiss on her cheek. "I just want you to stay warm. I know you get cold easily."

She smiled at his affection. She sighed and accepted the clothes, but before going to change, she warned: "Okay, but when we get to the hotel, I'll be the one who will take care of you."

"Fair enough." Lando chuckled, leaning in to kiss her.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/n was at university, and Lando, taking advantage of his break from racing, was at their apartment. With free time, he decided to take care of the kittens they had, unpack the suitcase from their last trip and clean the place a little so that, when she arrived, she could just relax.

While organizing some things, my cell phone vibrated with a message from her.

Amore mio❤️: Honey, I'm going to have to stay here a little longer... The teacher decided to extend today's class, since he won't be able to come next week.

'Okay, honey. Did you bring anything to eat? Or do you have your card?'

Amore mio❤️: I forgot my lunch bag on the table... But if I feel hungry, I'll buy something in the cafeteria.

Lando looked at the table and there was her small bag of snacks. He rolled his eyes, smiling. It was typical of her to forget things when she was in a hurry.

He looked at his watch. It was already past lunch time and, knowing Y/n well, he knew she wouldn't buy anything because she would be too busy studying. With an amused sigh, he picked up his bag and decided to take it to her.

Leaving the apartment, he got into his car and drove through the streets of Monaco. It was a beautiful day, with the sun reflecting off the crystal clear waters of the harbor. The narrow, charming streets were busy, but he drove calmly, lost in his own thoughts.

He and Y/n had been together since they were teenagers. They met in high school, when he still dreamed of becoming a Formula 1 driver and she was already talking about working in the health field. Since then, Lando had done small things for her—like sharing his snack when she forgot, stopping by the market after school to buy her favorite sweets, or simply giving her his coat on cold days. For him, these were simple things. For her, they were demonstrations of love that meant everything.

Upon arriving at the campus, Lando parked the car and headed to the block where Y/n's course rooms were located. She was in an area with tables and benches, laughing with her friends as they reviewed something for class.

He stopped for a moment and watched her from afar. Even when she was focused, she still found time to laugh and interact with her friends, and that made him smile. The driver had always admired the way she balanced everything with ease. Relationships, work, university, friends, home, family who lived in another country and accompanying Lando to the races when she could.

For Norris, she was definitely his superhero.

Y/n's friends soon noticed him, but didn't say anything. She, with her back to him, continued talking, oblivious to his presence. Lando approached silently and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"If you're going to scare me, forget it." Y/n grumbled before even turning around, frowning slightly.

"Apparently it worked a little." Lando chuckled.

She turned around quickly, ready to retort, but when she saw it was him, her face lit up with a smile. Without hesitation, she hugged him tightly.

“What are you doing here, Lan?"

He kissed her cheek before answering, and her friends cooed, making them both laugh. Then, he held up the bag of snacks.

"I have a special delivery for a person who forgets things."

Y/n smiled, shaking her head. "You're the best."

"I know." He winked. "But seriously, you wouldn't survive on just the breakfast and granola bars in your backpack."

"I love you, you know?" She bit her lip, knowing he was right.

"I think I can hear that again." He smiled.

Y/n laughed and pulled Lando into a kiss. Her friends cheered playfully, and he smiled into the kiss. While Y/n blushed slightly.

"Do you want to stay here for a while?" She asked as they walked away. "I still have time before my next class."

"Sure, honey." He sat down next to her on the bench and soon began chatting with his friends, whom he had known for a long time. Most of them had even studied with them in high school and had been friends since then.

While he was chatting animatedly, Y/n opened her bag to get her snack. It was then that she noticed a small note folded on top of the fruit bowls and the sandwich.

"I don't want you to go hungry because you were busy saving lives before you even graduated. Eat right, okay? I love you. Lan❤️"

Her smile grew, and her cheeks heated. She tried to hide it, but her best friend, sitting across from her, noticed it right away.

"Look who's blushing!!"

Y/n rolled her eyes but laughed.

Looking at Lando, who was still talking absentmindedly, she felt her heart warm. The love she felt for him was not just because of the time they had been together, but because of the way he always showed that he cared, in the little details. She had loved him since they were friends, and when they started dating, that feeling only grew. Every day, with every gesture, with every note, she fell more in love.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/n walked into the house, taking off her shoes and letting out a tired sigh, but with an excited smile on her face.

"You won't believe what happened today!" She began, walking straight to the kitchen as Lando followed her with interest.

"Surprise me!" Lando said with a smile, leaning against the counter as he watched her open the fridge.

"The teacher just decided that he won't teach us anymore and finished all the content today!!" She explained, picking up some fruit and starting to prepare a juice.

Lando frowned. "Seems kind of unfair, doesn't it? Like, you guys have to fight to know everything in one day?"

Y/n to them.

"Basically!! But it was actually good, I had time to review a lot of things... And wouldn't you know it, the guys decided to have a competition to see who could remember the most details from the class, AND I WON!" Y/n said in a tone of voice like a child who had just received a long-awaited gift.

Lando laughed and raised an eyebrow in amazement. He loved that even though they were twenty-five, she sometimes told him the news like a six-year-old. It was one of his thousand favorite things.

"Of course you won. My favorite nerd." He joked, earning a look of mock indignation from her as he poured the juice into two glasses.

"I prefer 'a brain incredibly capable of holding everything', but thanks." She said, handing him one of the cups.

Lando chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Fair enough. And did you get anything to eat while you were out there so late?"

"Ah, so... I even stopped by the markets near the university before heading home, because I had a crazy desire to eat pistachio ice cream, but I couldn't find any." Y/n commented casually, drinking the rest of the juice and going to wash the glass.

Lando made a thoughtful sound. "Pistachio ice cream? That's a new one."

"Yeah, I saw it on Instagram and I wanted to." She said, smiling at him. "Anyway, I'm going to take a quick shower, and then we can continue yesterday's series, okay?"

"Of course, I'll wait for you on the couch." Lando replied, already imagining that that 'quickie' was far from the truth.

She leaned in to kiss his cheek, but at the last second, Lando turned his face and pulled her into a passionate kiss. Y/n giggled against his lips, but kissed him back without hesitation.

When they broke apart, she ran her fingers through his hair and murmured. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Lando smiled, but as soon as she got into the shower, an idea took hold of him. Grabbing his car keys, he left the apartment determined to find that pistachio ice cream.

He knew Y/n well enough to know that, even if she didn't give it much thought afterwards, she still wanted it. And he would do anything to see that satisfied smile on her face.

At the second market he visited, he found exactly what he was looking for. He bought three large jars and drove back home, eager to surprise her.

When she entered the apartment, she heard the sound of the wardrobe doors opening; she had probably just gotten out of the shower and was changing.

Putting two jars in the fridge, he grabbed two spoons and settled down on the sofa, putting on the series they were watching together.

From the hallway, he heard her voice as she tried to apply moisturizer to her arms.

"I swear I'll never understand why these bottles are so hard to open when your hand is wet." Y/n grumbled, focused on the task at hand as she walked to the living room.

As soon as she walked in, she found Lando smiling at her, holding a tub of ice cream out towards her.

"Look what mysteriously appeared in our apartment." He said, an amused glint in his eyes.

Y/n's eyes widened and she walked over to him, taking the spoon he held out. "You're kidding!"

Lando laugh.

"No kidding. I left while you were in the shower and found it at the market nearby."

She opened the jar and looked at it with a mixed expression of surprise and tenderness. "You flatter me too much."

"It's not my fault I like seeing you happy." Lando replied with a smirk.

Tasting the ice cream, Y/n closed her eyes in pure delight. "OMG, this is perfect!!"

Lando laughed when he saw her so pleased.

She then gave a mischievous smile. "Our future children will be the most spoiled in the world. With a father who goes out at night to buy pistachio ice cream for their mother, imagine what he will do for them."

Lando gave a thoughtful expression. "Well, if they pull their mother's leg, they'll probably convince me to do anything. I'm screwed."

Y/n laughed and leaned back against him, still enjoying every spoonful.

Lando put the episode on TV, but his attention was always on his girlfriend. He smiled every time she made a face of pleasure while eating her ice cream.

Y/n felt loved in every little gesture he made. Ever since their school days, Lando had always found ways to take care of her, even when she didn't realize she needed it.

And despite all the teasing, she knew that their future babies would be lucky because they would have a daddy as caring and helpful as the man by her side.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/n and Lando had a natural way of balancing each other's differences. She loved quiet nights watching TV and baking, and he did that with her without hesitation complain. In the same way, he liked parties and events, and Y/n, even though she felt a little anxious in crowded places, made an effort to accompany him to all of them.

Lando had always been aware of her discomfort in crowds. When they went to parties, he made sure to keep one hand on her waist, making sure she felt safe, while the other held a glass.

That night, they were at a party with Max and Pietra. Y/n was talking excitedly with Pietra about a reality show they were watching, while Lando and Max talked about news from Quadrant.

When Max and Pietra left to get more drinks, Lando leaned close to Y/n's ear.

"Is everything okay?" He asked in a low tone, making sure only she could hear.

"Comfortable?"

"I am, love." She smiled reassuringly.

Lando nodded, but kept his eyes peeled for any sign of discomfort.

"Come dance with me?" Y/n asked suddenly, her eyes shining with anticipation.

"Now?" Lando smiled, loving to see her letting loose.

"NOW!!" She said, pulling his hand and lightly dragging him back.

Norris chuckled, downing the rest of his drink before setting the glass down on the table and following her. He shifted his position, standing in front of her and gently holding her hand as he excused himself to a few people along the way. The last thing he wanted was for someone to bump into him.

When they reached the dance floor, a song they both knew started playing. Y/n smiled, moving her body to the rhythm of the music. Lando pulled her by the waist, moving alongside her, but his attention was focused on admiring her smile and the way her eyes sparkled.

When the song ended and a new one began, he leaned in again to speak close to her ear.

"Do you want to get some air outside?"

Y/n fixed the collar of his shirt, which was slightly up, and smiled. "Not yet. But thanks for asking."

Lando smiled back and murmured against her hair, "I'll always be here to take care of you."

And then, they went back to where they were before and found Max and Pietra, who had already returned with the drinks.

They continued to chat animatedly, but Lando remained attentive. They had a code for when Y/n needed a break—a double squeeze of his hand meant it was time to leave.

Even without her giving the signal, Lando noticed small signs of discomfort: the way she fidgeted with the strap of her dress, the way her gaze became more distant for a few seconds. Then, without needing her to ask, he leaned close to her ear.

"Come with me, just a minute."

Without question, Y/n took his hand, and he led her to a quiet terrace. As soon as she felt the cool air against her skin, she closed her eyes and smiled, taking a deep breath.

Lando hugged her from behind and kissed her neck gently. "You're doing well, love. But you don't have to stay here for me, okay? We can go anytime. I'm with you!"

She opened her eyes and turned her head slightly to look at him. "I know. But I like being with you, even if parties aren't really my thing."

The pilot smiled, warming to her words. They sat in silence for a while, watching the city lights below.

"Do you think if I let go of my glass from here it will fall straight down or fly away?"

"If you do that, I'll pretend I don't know you." Y/n raised an eyebrow.

He laughed, still hugging her. Her hands were on his, which were resting on her waist. Y/n sighed in relief, resting her head on his chest.

Lando nuzzled his face into her neck, murmuring softly.

"I love you."

She smiled, feeling her heart warm. "I know. Because I love you too!"

"I love everything about you." Lando continued. "From the first time I saw you in my class in high school, I knew you were special to me."

"We didn't even talk properly that first week." Y/n chuckled softly.

"But I knew," he insisted. "And then you stood by me at the beginning of my career, always believing in me, always supporting me. You are my peace before every race, my confidence before I get in the car. Every time you're around, I feel at home."

She blinked a few times, feeling her eyes well up. An emotional smile formed on her lips.

A lone tear ran down her face, and Lando wiped it away with his thumb.

"I love you so much." Y/n whispered. "But sometimes, I can't even put it into words..."

He kissed her forehead tenderly. "But I feel it. Because, even though you don't see it, you care for me as much as I care for you."

Y/n smiled, knowing he was right. Lando began to list little things she did without realizing it: cooking his favorite dish every time he got back from a trip, sending him motivational messages, holding his hand before races to ease his anxiety. And gosh, she learned how to make his mother's recipes so he wouldn't miss Cisca's cooking so much.

"I love you." Y/n smiles. "So much, so much, so much, and so...much!"

Lando chuckled and leaned in to kiss her.

The kiss started softly, tenderly. Y/n's hands went up to the back of his neck, pulling him slightly closer. Lando deepened the kiss delicately, moving his lips against hers slowly, savoring the moment. His thumb caressed the soft skin of her face, conveying every bit of affection he felt.

When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers and smiled.

"Shall we go home?"

Y/n nodded, still smiling.

Lando laced his fingers through hers as they walked out, ready to spend the rest of the night on the couch with her—and, who knows, maybe with a coffee to cure both of their hangovers.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

Lando and Y/n were spending their holidays in the UK, in the city where they grew up and where their families still lived. It was a peaceful time for both of them, a time of rest and nostalgia, surrounded by the streets that held so many memories of childhood and adolescence.

On that cold afternoon, they walked hand in hand through the park that meant so much to both of them. The icy wind announced the possibility of snow in the coming days, and the smell of winter hung in the air. They were dressed in matching warm coats, and Y/n kept her hands intertwined with Lando's.

"I still can't believe I'm going into my final year of college." Y/n commented, looking at the path ahead. "It seems like yesterday that I started, and now we're already talking about the future more calmly... It's going to be good to be able to spend more time at home and eventually start working for real."

Lando looked at his girlfriend in amazement. With a soft smile, he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and chuckled softly when he saw a small leaf fall on her head.

"What is it?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"There was a leaf on your head," the pilot replied, laughing as he removed it.

Y/n laughed too, squeezing his hand lightly before they continued walking. As they walked, they talked about the latest races, her plans for when they returned to Monaco, and even ideas for future trips.

Halfway through the journey, Lando suddenly stopped in the middle of a bridge, where the view of the park was even more beautiful. The trees swayed gently in the wind, some dry leaves fell, making the scenery even more nostalgic.

"Why did we stop?"

Lando looked at her with a gleam in his eyes. "Don't you remember this place?"

She frowned for a moment, looking around, until her eyes widened in realization.

"It was here..." She murmured, a smile growing on her lips. "It was here that you asked me to be your girlfriend."

Lando smiled and nodded, moving closer to let her closer to him. Y/n rested her hand on the railing of the bridge, admiring the view, but soon turned her gaze back to him.

Lando gently ran his hand over her cheek before speaking, "I know a lot of people say I'm taking too long to propose..." She rolled her eyes but laughed. "But I always say the boss doesn't want it right now..."

Y/n lightly slapped his chest, laughing. "Not quite!"

Lando laughed along, taking her hand again.

"I know we agreed that we would do this after you finished college." He said fondly. "So... if I ask you out again, will you accept?"

She frowned in confusion for a second, until she saw him take a small box out of his pocket. Opening it, she revealed two brand new rings.

"Yes, Lan, I accept. I always will, you know!" Y/n smiled.

"I took advantage of the fact that we're here to renew our engagement rings... because, honestly, mine is already all crooked on my finger." He joked.

Y/n laughed out loud. "Well, mine is kind of crooked too." She admitted.

Lando took her hand, sliding the old ring off and studying her for a moment before joking, "That should be considered a crime already."

Y/n laughed and did the same with his, exchanging the old rings for the new ones. When they finished, each one held the other's old ring.

"What are we going to do with these?" She asked, looking at the ring in her palm.

"We can play in the river. Like a ritual, you know? But in a cute way." Lando smirked.

"I feel bad about throwing it away..." Y/n hesitated, holding the ring carefully.

Lando cupped her face gently, looking into her eyes. "We're not throwing them away, love. They were part of our history, but now we have new ones. And in a few months, you'll have an even more special one. A brilliant engagement ring."

Y/n's eyes lit up at the idea. She smiled, feeling her heart warm.

"Okay then. Let's do this together."

They looked at each other and counted down before dropping the rings into the river at the same time. They watched for a few seconds until Lando laughed.

"Will any fish find and marry our rings?"

Y/n laughed, pushing his shoulder lightly. "Well, I hope they're at least fish who really love each other."

Lando chuckled before pulling her into a passionate kiss.

The kiss started out slow and delicate, but soon became more intense and full of feelings. Lando's hands held her face tenderly, while Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Their lips moved in unison perfect harmony, as if time had stopped for that moment. The cold around them didn't seem to matter, as there was a cozy warmth between the two.

When they pulled away, Lando rested his forehead against hers, smiling. "I love you. And I can't wait to call you my wife one day."

Months later, when they returned to the city for their mid-year vacation, Lando took her back to that same bridge. With a sparkle in his eyes and a shiny ring in his hand, he proposed, sealing another chapter of their story in the very place where it all began.

[sinkuna]

୨୧ — Sukuna watched as you tended to the herbs just outside his temple, your movements carrying that same gentleness as always. You hummed softly while working, a melody that seemed to make even the weeds lean towards you. The swell of your stomach was prominent now, a visible reminder of how you had changed everything, and something in him always urged him to be closer to you- a possessiveness that had only grown over the past few months. 

He hated it. But above all, he hated the way his curse energy would flow around the surrounding area, like a protective shroud meant solely for you… And he refused to acknowledge how his multiple eyes would track every subtle shift in your expression…

"Ryomen! Look at this one!" your voice held nothing but genuine delight as you held up a particularly vibrant herb. 

"Tch. Still wasting your time with these worthless weeds?" he scoffed, but his eyes never left your form. He took notice of the way your fingers carefully caressed the delicate thing and the small smile that tugged at your lips, and it was only then did he realize that your hair had grown a little longer... 

"One day," he heard you murmur, your voice carrying in the evening breeze, "you might need these."  

The mere suggestion that he, the king of curses, might need such mundane remedies should have enraged him, and to a certain degree it did, but he was so transfixed on your fingers, the same fingers that always dared to trace his black markings, that his retort lacked it’s usual venom. 

"Someone like me has no use for such worthless things." the mouth on his stomach grinned, "You are aware of the difference between us, aren't you? Or has that brat inside of you softened that brain of yours?"

His gaze flickered to your stomach, where his child grew stronger each day.

That’s when you turned to him with that damn smile, it was like freshly fallen snow, untouched and pure… And it always awakened two warring instincts within him. The first was to destroy you, to corrupt, and to taint that purity until nothing remained and you were left bloody in his arms… And then there was the second, the newer, more terrifying one that made him want to preserve it at all costs…

"Oh? No use for such worthless things?" you tilted your head playfully, reminding him of that first day in the forest where he met you, "Hmm~ Is that why you still wear my scarf? If you have no use for such worthless things, then I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I took it back."

The memory of how you had wrapped it around him had been burned into his memory... like a fucking curse. How you approached him in the forest while bodies lay scattered around him, your eyes full of concern rather than terror. He didn’t know at the time the men he slaughtered were after you- didn’t know that his fun little killing spree would leave him stuck with you like a thorn in a wound. 

A thorn he couldn't be bothered with removing...

"You’re bleeding," you had said then, as if he were some ordinary injured traveler. Before he could slice that pretty head of yours clean off, you had already removed your scarf, standing on your tiptoes, tongue sticking out in concentration as you tended to the wound and wrapped it around his neck even though it would heal in moments…   

His four arms hung beside him at your audacity, as you dared to care for the King of Curses.

"It’s not much," you had whispered, "but it should help keep the wound clean until it heals" then you had smiled- that same one you wore now. 

So lost in the memory, Sukuna hadn’t even noticed you were now standing before him, reaching out towards him with the intent of tugging your scarf free from his body and he reacted. Faster than he should have been and snatched your hand away before you could even graze the fabric. 

"Do. Not." 

His eyes were narrowed, and his voice was low, a growl that echoed across the temple grounds, but you had become immune to the sound. His other hand unconsciously rose to touch the now worn fabric at his neck, it still carried traces of your scent after all this time.

"Watch yourself, woman. I could still slice that fragile neck of yours. Devour you where you stand. Don't be mistaken, you're not safe just because you're carrying my child."

"Mmhmm," you hummed, entirely unafraid as you leaned into him so that you could place a chaste kiss against his jawline, "Is that why you let me sleep in your bed? Why you allow only i to say your real name... And why you-" 

"Be silent." he spat, and yet his grip on your hand loosened, allowing your fingers to slip through his and intertwine, "Insolent creature…" but his other hands were merciful as they settled on your waist.

"If you wanted to kill me, Ryomen, you would have done so a long time ago." 

"You think too highly of yourself. You're a means to an end, a tool."

Your smile never wavered for a second, "Is that so? Then I must be a very special tool. I don't believe anyone else would get away with the things I do."

"Foolish little lamb." He let out a low grunt, pressing his forehead to yours in a gesture that had become as natural as breathing, "I will admit," his lips curled into a smirk as he pulled you flush against his body, "you've made the last few months a little less boring. But if I tire of your presence, I won't hesitate to kill you." 

"Your foolish woman." You corrected, and with a soft chuckle, you pulled back slightly so that you could cup his face, "And you won’t kill me before the baby is born, right? That would be a shame."

Sukuna scowled, "Don't test me."

"Never." you promised sweetly, but he knew you’d continue to do so regardless.

The King of Curses would never admit it, but the thought of you dead- the thought of anyone daring to harm you or his child was enough to awaken a a whole new kind of bloodlust, unlike anything he had felt in centuries. He would paint the lands red with the blood of any who tried, would hang their entrails from the highest trees as a warning, would burn the world to ash before letting harm come to what was his.

[hahashifts]

Villain POV

Well this was unexpected. Not at all how I'd expected this night to go. The hero of the city, bleeding and broken on my doorstep, because this was the only place they could think of to go that would be safe.

I surpressed the warmth rising in me, strange sensation - probably mere indigestion from dinner. Regardless, the bane of my existence was in my arms and I was putting her on my sofa. I could hear the men who had done this to her racing straight for my home.

Good. They will taste my wrath and I will dwell out the vengeance for the fallen hero they defiled with their wretched hands. I'd relieve them of the damned appendages before I ended their miserable life's. Make an example of them for any others that may try to follow in their footsteps.

Being a villain, sewing chaos and disorder and fighting against the system is one thing, but cruelty and vileness for the sake of it was a disgrace that couldn't be forgiven.

The little heroes light was out, her magic somewhere far away. It would return to her or they would suffer all the more for it. But she was stable enough for me to deal with the trash quickly approaching my doorstep. No need to sully the furnishings with their blood.

I stepped over the threshold of my domicile and closed the door just as they approached me. Three men, all clearly drunk.

"Good evening, gentlemen." I sneered as I smelled her blood on them. I saw red. "It appears you put your hands on something that doesn't belong to you," and in one smooth motion my sword was out and had sliced through each of their wrists like slicing butter and their screams pierced the night air as they realized, stunned and eyes bulging, as all 6 pairs of their hands fell from their wrists to the cobblestone streets. "You do know the punishment for assault and rape, I presume? Good."

I kicked the man in front of me, reeking of ale and her blood, his kneecap shattering from the impact and wrenched his head down into the stone beneath me hard enough to shatter his teeth and crack open his skull. It was easy to pick him up and throw him across the courtyard, as if he weighed no less than a rabbit.

The next man had bruised knuckles and more of her blood on his shirt and neck, so I removed his jugular and tossed it toward one of the alley cats that had snuck nearby, hearing the commotion. Sputtering and attempting to grasp at his gaping neck with the stubs of his bleeding arms he fell to his knees and it was a simple thing to twist his neck and end him.

It wasn't on purpose, of course, but his head was a full 180° when I let him go.

The third man was screaming and attempting to run away, the coward, but he slipped on his friends blood and fell with enough force that he bit through his own tongue, severing the appendage so I didn't even have to go through the effort of doing it myself. I loved how fate often worked in this way.

He, however, had clearly touched the precious jewel that was bleeding all over his vintage velvet sofa, and for that he needed to suffer.

There was a fountain in the middle of the courtyard, but that was too good for the scum. No, he would need - Perfect.

Grabbing him by the collar it was an easy thing to drag him to the nearest puddle and shove his face into the muddy, disgusting city water, keeping my boot pressed tightly to the back of his neck so he could struggle and kick but with no hands and his severed tongue it was only a matter of whether he would bleed out or drown in the shallow puddle.

It didn't really matter to me, so long as his death was painful and as humiliating as she must have felt fleeing through the streets half naked with torn clothes and a bleeding temple.

Red swarmed my vision again and the maggot beneath me was still squirming, so I snapped his thigh with my other boot and put all my pressure on the back of his neck, killing him soundly.

It was a simple call to some of my guys to have them come clean up the bodies and the blood, and I left the cats to lap at the blood pooling in the streets and the bodies left for the rats.

My men knew not to bury them, but leave them out somewhere for the animals, for that was the only fitting end for them.

When I returned her breathing was shallow but some of that inner light was beginning to shine through, just barely pulsing with her heartbeat like a constellation of silver glowing freckles, dim, but there.

I sighed with relief.

She'd... Trusted me. Trusted me when she was at her most vulnerable. It was an odd feeling, one that I hadn't felt in... I'm not even sure when.

Decades, if I had to guess.

I quickly cleaned the blood off me and whatever other remnants were left of the maggots, then got to work on cleaning and bandaging the damaged girl on his couch.

Enemy, he tried to remind himself.

But looking at her, the way she'd looked at him when he opened the door as if he was her salvation...

That stirring and flickering of warmth in my chest flared up again. Had I been poisoned? Surely not, it was just her presence, of course. I'd felt this way around her since we'd had our first run in two years ago. Some reaction to her innate inner magic, I'd assumed. It was proof of how powerful she was, part of what made her such a fantastic adversary.

But what had been done to her tonight... What had she been doing on this side of the river in the first place? Alone?

Nobody was to lay hands on her except for me, everyone knows that. Everyone in the underground knows, everyone on the river knows, everyone in the city knows she's mine. Doing this to her, especially those nobodies? They'd be lucky if any of their crew made it to see tomorrow.

She was in rough shape. She had a black eye, split lip, nearly broken cheekbone, cut on her temple that had stopped bleeding, finally.

Damn head wounds bleed so much on these half linggs, I had nearly forgotten. I covered her with a blanket when I'd first brought her inside and laid her on my couch, partly for her sake, partly for the sake of my dear quiet corner of this shit hole of a city.

I was fairly certain they hadn't gotten as far as they had probably hoped, but I'd never seen the kind of fear in her eyes as I did when I opened that damn door tonight. She was terrified. And she'd probably never admit it. But I'd seen it. And she'd trusted me.

In this, I wouldn't break that trust. There were few things I bothered to do right these days, but I did have a code, and it was no hard feat to fit protecting her - my enemy - from her enemies and those that would do her harm.

The hero shows up at the villain’s doorstep one night. They’re shivering, bleeding, scared. There’s also a slightly dazed look in their eyes– they were drugged. They look like they were assaulted. Looking up at the villain, swaying slightly as they’re close to passing out, they mumble “…didn’t know where else to go…” then collapse into the villain’s arms.

[sophsbookstore]

Future Canuck

Quinn Hughes x Pregnant!reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Word count: 2041

pt. 1 pt. 2

A/N: YOU ASKED AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE  

The nursery was quiet, too quiet. You stood in the middle of the room, hands resting on your growing belly, eyes tracing the empty walls. The soft, pale blue paint had been the first thing you’d picked out, and the crib, changing table, and rocking chair had been set up just the way you’d imagined. But now that the space was all prepared, it felt like it was missing something. It wasn’t that it wasn’t perfect—it was—but it was just… bare.

The room seemed to echo with the anticipation of what was to come. Any minute now, your little boy would be here, filling the space with the sound of his tiny coos and cries. You could almost picture it—the soft glow of a nightlight by the crib, his little onesies hanging neatly in the closet, a stuffed animal or two scattered around. It was all so close, and yet, there was a part of you that felt like there was still so much to do.

You sighed softly, your fingers brushing over the crib’s smooth surface. The thought of Quinn coming in here, taking in the sight of everything ready, filled you with warmth. You could already picture the smile on his face, the way his eyes would light up at the sight of his son’s future home.

The sound of footsteps approaching pulled you from your thoughts. You turned just in time to see Quinn’s tall figure filling the doorway. His hair was slightly tousled, the same handsome grin tugging at his lips as always. But today, there was something softer about him, something more tender. The way his gaze softened when it landed on you, the way he looked at your belly with such an intense, quiet adoration.

"Hey," Quinn said, his voice low, warm. He crossed the room in a few strides, his hands gently cupping your face before dropping down to rest on your hips. He stood there for a moment, just looking at you, a glimmer of emotion in his eyes that made your heart flutter. “I still can’t believe we’re having a boy.”

You smiled up at him, your hands moving to rest on his chest. "I know. It's crazy, isn't it?" The excitement and nerves mixed together inside you. "I keep thinking about how it's all going to change once he’s here."

Quinn’s hands slid from your hips to your stomach, his palm resting gently on the curve of your belly, feeling the warmth of your skin. "I just…" His voice trailed off as he gazed at you, his lips curling into a grin. "I’m so happy, Y/N. I’m really, really happy."

You could feel the emotion building in his words, the raw sincerity in his tone. It made your chest tighten, and you instinctively leaned into him, closing your eyes for a moment. He had always been the rock you needed, but now, in these final weeks of pregnancy, his love felt even more grounding.

Quinn dropped a soft kiss to your forehead before stepping back, his fingers lingering on your belly as he did. "So, what do you think?" He asked, his eyes scanning the room. "It looks perfect in here, but I feel like we’re missing a few things, don't you?"

You nodded, looking around at the still-empty shelves. "Yeah… I feel like it’s just… missing something." You gestured vaguely at the space, unsure how to put it into words. "It’s almost like we need more color, some toys, blankets… something to make it feel more like him."

Quinn’s grin widened, and he cocked his head thoughtfully. “Well, then, how about we go get some things for him? You, me, and our baby boy?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of Quinn picking out things for your son. The idea of him choosing little clothes, tiny shoes, the perfect decoration for the walls—it made you melt inside. You nodded eagerly, your smile matching his. "That sounds perfect."

Quinn’s hands reached for yours, pulling you close as he planted a quick, playful kiss on your lips. "Alright, let's go spoil our son rotten, then."

The two of you walked out of the nursery, Quinn’s hand never leaving yours. The anticipation of shopping together filled you with excitement, but there was also a quiet thrill in knowing that the next step in this journey was about to begin. Choosing clothes for him, picking out the best little trinkets for the nursery—it all felt like a dream.

—

The store was buzzing with families, carts filled with everything from diapers to baby blankets. You and Quinn strolled through the aisles, side by side, as he pushed the cart, clearly excited about the baby items you were picking out. It felt like every step was a new adventure for the two of you, every decision bringing you closer to your baby boy.

"Look at this," Quinn said with a grin, pointing to a set of soft, pastel green and blue crib sheets. "These are perfect. His room is going to look so good with these."

You nodded, smiling at the vibrant colors that reminded you so much of Quinn’s team—the Canucks. The blue and green shades brought a sense of warmth and energy to the space. It felt like the perfect choice for your little boy, a room full of love and color.

"I love them," you said, picking up the sheets and adding them to the cart.

The cart was quickly filling up, a testament to Quinn’s excitement. You moved on to the next aisle, your eyes lighting up when you spotted a display of plush whales. "Oh my god, Quinn, look!" you said, practically bouncing on your feet. "How adorable are these?"

Quinn chuckled, seeing your reaction. "Whales, huh? Fin would be proud."

You reached for a soft, killer whale plushie, holding it close as if it were the most precious thing in the world. Quinn grinned and grabbed another, adding it to the cart. "Looks like we’re starting a whale collection for him," he said teasingly.

As you walked down the aisles, your cart was becoming a colorful mix of baby essentials—blue and green towels, soft blankets, and even a few wall decals in the shape of little whales. There were so many things to choose from, and Quinn’s enthusiasm made it all feel so special.

You couldn’t help but laugh when Quinn picked up a set of Canucks-themed onesies. "Alright, buddy, it’s time to start your Canucks fandom early," he joked, holding up a tiny onesie with the team’s logo on it. "You’re going to be the youngest fan at Rogers Arena."

"I’m sure he’s going to love it," you teased back, eyeing the display of tiny jerseys. "But maybe I’ll also get him something that doesn’t scream ‘hockey’ for now."

Quinn chuckled and put the onesie in the cart anyway, clearly proud of his little fan. "You’re right, we should diversify his wardrobe."

You both continued to fill the cart with cute outfits—onesies with little animal prints, soft hats with animal ears, and even a couple of sleep sacks in vibrant colors. The excitement in Quinn’s voice was contagious, and you couldn’t help but be caught up in the joy of it all. Your heart swelled as you thought about your baby wearing all these tiny clothes.

Finally, you made your way to the clothing section. The rows of onesies, tiny socks, and little shoes were overwhelming in the best way possible. You stood there for a moment, gazing at all the options, trying to decide what to grab next.

But as you picked up a soft, striped onesie, something hit you. You had always imagined this moment—shopping for your son, picking out his clothes—but now that you were standing here, it was all starting to feel very real. Your chest tightened as you looked at all the little clothes, your mind racing with the thought of how close you were to becoming a mother.

You felt the first hint of tears pricking at your eyes.

"Y/N?" Quinn’s voice was soft, and you turned to find him standing beside you, his eyes full of concern. He could tell right away that something was affecting you.

"I'm just… I don’t know," you whispered, blinking rapidly as you tried to push the emotions away. "It’s just… so overwhelming. I’m so excited, but seeing all these tiny clothes just makes it feel so real."

Quinn’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. "Hey, it’s okay. I get it," he said softly. "This is a huge moment for both of us. And I’m so glad we’re doing this together."

You took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself, but the tears were starting to fall despite your best efforts. Quinn didn’t hesitate. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close. His warmth wrapped around you like a protective shield.

"You don’t have to worry about anything," he murmured, his voice gentle but firm. "Whatever you want, just put it in the cart. We’re getting everything our little guy could possibly need. We’re in this together, and we’re going to make sure he has the best start possible."

You sniffled, feeling the weight of his words sink in. He was right. It didn’t matter how much you bought, or how full the cart became—what mattered was that your son was going to have everything he needed and more. And more importantly, he was going to have both of you, his parents, who loved him more than anything in the world.

You pulled away slightly, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "Thank you," you whispered. "I just… it’s a lot, you know?"

Quinn nodded, his thumb brushing away the last of your tears. "I get it, Y/N. I really do. But don’t worry about space, or anything else. If you want it, we’re getting it."

With that, you let out a soft laugh and wiped your eyes, feeling lighter already. "Okay," you said, taking a deep breath. "Let’s do this. Let’s make sure our baby boy has everything he needs."

Quinn smiled, his heart swelling with love for you. "I’m all in," he said, placing his hand on your lower back and guiding you toward the rows of clothes. "Let’s pick out some more stuff for our little guy."

You and Quinn spent the next hour carefully selecting more outfits, making sure the cart was packed with the softest, most adorable clothes. Every time you found something that made you smile, you’d add it to the cart, and Quinn would throw in a little joke or compliment, keeping the mood light and fun.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of shopping, you reached the checkout. Your cart was overflowing with baby gear—clothes, blankets, toys, and decorations for the nursery. The total was a bit higher than you had expected, but it didn’t matter. Every single item in that cart was something your baby boy would love.

Quinn insisted on paying, of course. He swiped his card with a grin, not even hesitating. "I’ve got it, Y/N. Don’t worry about a thing."

You smiled, watching as he loaded the items into the car. The weight of the bags didn’t seem to faze him, even though there were a lot. He handled each one with care, making sure everything was packed securely.

Once everything was in the car, Quinn walked back around and opened the door for you. He didn’t even let you lift a finger. "You just relax, okay?" he said with a gentle smile. "I’ve got this. The last thing I want is for you to strain yourself."

You chuckled softly, feeling the warmth of his care surrounding you. "I’ll let you spoil me this time."

Quinn’s smile softened, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. "You deserve it. I can’t wait for our little guy to be here, Y/N."

Your heart swelled with love as you looked at him, knowing that, no matter what, you and Quinn were ready for the adventure of parenthood. Together.

[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ be my valentine? ♡ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Second Years x gn! reader

𓏵 1151 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcannons, no pronouns used, fluff, a bit ooc(?)

First Years are done! Third Years coming up next! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

I think Riddle would approach Valentine’s Day with strict formality. He’d see it as a day where everything must be done correctly—from the timing of the gift to the wording of the confession. He likely spends days researching the proper etiquette for giving someone chocolates, but when the moment arrives, he’s stiff and clearly overthinking every step.

Riddle doesn’t handle romantic feelings well, and though he wants to make you feel special, his nerves get the best of him. If you show genuine appreciation, he short-circuits a little, his face turning red as he struggles to regain his composure.

"Ahem! I prepared this for you. Naturally, it would be improper of me to let this day pass without offering a gift. It is simply… expected. N-Not that I mind! In fact, I—I wanted to! So, um… please accept it."

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I think Ruggie would act super casual about Valentine’s Day, like it’s no big deal. He’d shrug it off, saying stuff like, "Man, people are really splurging today, huh?" while totally pretending he didn’t get you anything. But in reality, he’s had a little something tucked away for you all day—he just doesn’t know how to give it without looking sappy.

When he finally hands it over, he plays it cool but is very alert for your reaction. If you get flustered, he’ll smirk and tease you. If you act chill, he’ll nudge you, trying to get more of a response. But if you look genuinely happy? He gets quiet for a second, ears twitching before he grins like you just handed him a gift.

"Psh, don’t make a big deal outta this. It’s just a little somethin’ I swiped—uh, I bought for ya. You like it? Heh. Yeah? Thought ya might. Oi, don’t get all mushy on me now!"

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I think Azul would plan his Valentine’s Day gift like a business deal—something elegant, refined, and impressive. He wants to sweep you off your feet while also ensuring you recognize his generosity. But deep down? He overthinks it so much that he gets stuck in analysis paralysis, agonizing over whether his gift is "too much" or "not enough."

When he finally presents it, he masks his nervousness behind his usual suave demeanor, but his fingers might fidget slightly. If you genuinely love his gift, his confidence wavers just a bit, and he has to adjust his tie to hide how flustered he is.

"Ahem. As a token of my regard, I have procured this exquisite gift for you. Of course, you need not feel obligated to accept it, but— Oh? You… like it? I-I mean, of course you do! Hah… Why are you staring at me like that?"

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I think Jade would treat Valentine’s Day like a very amusing social experiment. He’s incredibly perceptive, so he’d tailor his gift perfectly to your tastes—but the way he presents it would be so unpredictable. He might casually set it down next to you with a cryptic, "For you," and then disappear before you can respond. Or he might wait until you least expect it, handing it over with a knowing smile.

Jade’s true enjoyment comes from watching your reaction. If you’re flustered, he finds it utterly delightful. If you try to act casual, he’ll push just a little—his smooth words making it impossible to keep your cool.

"Hm? You seem surprised. Did you not anticipate that I would partake in this charming human custom? Fufu… your expression is rather endearing. Perhaps I should gift you things more often."

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I think Floyd would be completely unpredictable about Valentine’s Day. One moment, he’s dramatically declaring, "Ughhh, too much effort, Valentine’s is boring!" and the next, he’s shoving a gift at you with zero warning, just to see your reaction.

He doesn’t plan things in advance—if he gives you something, it’s impulsive, based purely on what he feels like doing. And if he’s in a really good mood? He might just squeeze you while laughing, declaring you’re his "favorite little shrimp" before bolting off to cause more chaos.

"Here ya go, Shrimpy! I dunno, thought it looked fun, so I got it for ya. Huh? Why ya lookin’ at me like that? Hehe, you gettin’ all blushy on me? Awww, maybe I shoulda got ya two gifts!"

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I think Kalim would love Valentine’s Day because it gives him an excuse to spoil you. He doesn’t just give you one gift—he gives you several, and it’s clear he put his heart into every single one. Handmade treats? Jewelry? A handwritten letter? Yes. He throws it all at you like an overexcited golden retriever.

Kalim doesn’t do romance with subtlety—he’s all about pure joy. He beams when he sees you happy and might even pick you up in excitement. If you tell him he made your Valentine’s Day special, expect him to get so overwhelmed with happiness that he nearly tears up.

"Surprise!! Hehe, I got you all this ‘cause I just had to make today perfect for you! Huh? Too much? No way! You deserve way more than this!!"

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I think Jamil would act like Valentine’s Day is just another chore on his endless list of responsibilities. He’d roll his eyes at the whole thing, saying it’s a pointless tradition and that people get too worked up over it. But despite his complaints, he still makes time to prepare something for you—quietly, efficiently, and without drawing attention to himself.

He’s not the type to make a grand gesture, so his gift is something subtle yet undeniably thoughtful, like a homemade treat tailored to your tastes. He’d pass it to you casually, like it’s no big deal, barely sparing you a glance as he mumbles something about “getting rid of extras.” But if you comment on how much effort he put in—maybe teasing him a little about it—he exhales sharply, brushing his hair back with practiced indifference.

"You’re imagining things. If you don’t want it, I’ll just throw it out." But the way his fingers linger when you take it, the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips—it gives him away.

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I think Silver would approach Valentine’s Day with complete sincerity. He doesn’t overthink it—he just sees it as a day to express his feelings. His gift isn’t extravagant, but it’s something genuinely meaningful. Maybe a small charm for protection or a simple but beautifully written note.

However, since he’s Silver… there’s a chance he might accidentally fall asleep before giving it to you. If that happens, you might find the gift resting next to him as he sleeps, with a note written in his slightly messy handwriting. When he wakes up and sees you holding it, he flushes slightly but stands by his words, no matter how direct they are.

"I wanted to give you this. It’s nothing grand, but… it reminded me of you. Hm? You… really like it? I’m glad. You deserve to be cherished."

[whatifchilchuckwasadog]

hi not to derail i just am filled with the need to really highlight the "i'm not going to attempt to pronounce this" issue. it pisses me off so much for so many reasons.

do you not know how to look things up. if you don't know how to look up pronunciations why am i listening to anything you're saying. you clearly didn't look stuff up you're just talking out of your ass

i don't care if it's unfamiliar to you. everything is unfamiliar for someone every day. are you a coward? or just, in many cases, racist?

it's not even always racist (i grew up with a "difficult" name with english origins in the united states, i'm white, most people mispronounced it and because of demographics of where i grew up and the circles my parents ran in, most of them were also white) BUT it is always disrespectful. if someone tells you face to face how to pronounce their name and you won't do it correctly or if you assign them a nickname without their consent you're an asshole. imo the most respectful thing you can do if you really truly cannot pronounce their name is just to try it a few times to make sure you get it right, ask them to correct you, and then use their name regularly the first few times you see them even if you don't use people's names often so it sticks in your brain. no one i've ever met with a "difficult" name has ever posed an issue with this, and it's personally my preferred way to be approached.

if it's something you found in a book or on the internet and you haven't heard people pronounce it - there are websites for that. there are websites where people pronounce things for you. practice it. it's not going to kill you to look up how to make certain ipa sounds. you aren't on such a strict schedule that you can't spend 5 minutes googling and practicing.

this one isn't even about respect to where the word is from it's just about respect for your viewer. i mostly encounter this in video essays. video essays are really good background noise. i get to learn things while i work or do chores. it's great! but if you make me put down what i'm doing because you're a slimy little bastard who refuses to respect other people to go and rewind your video to where you had it on the screen, i'm really just as likely to pick a different video by someone who has more respect for their subject and their audience.

youtube should give viewers the option to grade video essays like it's a high school english class assignment and if the median grade is below passing then they stick a huge png over your video advising that this is a vlog with slide show components. if the youtuber ever goes "umm. I'm not going to attempt to pronounce this" at any point then they're genetically altered to be able to survive underground and let loose in an endless series of catacombs built beneath their home to live the rest of their life as the fabled town troll.

[elodieunderglass]

I hope your evening is better than your day was. ✨💫

In reference to me haggardly saying in the tags that after the day I’d had, everything (horrible things with legs) that my loved ones (you guys) were doing to heal me (send me horrible things with legs) was a help. And it was. And you are.

It was a tough old month already. But it’s all swings-and-roundabouts, snakes-and-ladders, win-some-lose-some, 🫴🫳.

I sleep about 9 hours in 48 at the moment, which is not especially great, owing to the Wretchedness of Mouse (2), a largely nocturnal animal. But then when Mouse is awake at Mouse o’Clock and quietly pottering around on Mouse Business, there isn’t much I can usefully do, so I’m just curled up with Dr Glass’s tablet, peacefully drawing Killie the jockey OC. As a result I’ve realised something massive for me, that my creativity is THERE, but fuelled by self-indulgence! Like, with stuff like fanfic projects and Killie, there was always a lot of “mental braking” on before, with me anticipating (based on evidence experience of posting my writing online for mumblety-many years) how much people would dislike it - put the brakes on, Elodie, we can’t let the haters know that we yearn. But hey, I started rambling on about fics and my own OCs, and YES it’s probably startling and annoying for some people and I do apologise, but ALSO you’ve all been very kind, and I think that it’s better for me to have the brakes off. 4 am takes notwithstanding, it’s better to have the brakes off. So what if I’m cringe and occasionally annoying - I have paid my dues and done my duties.

The new shed at the allotment blew down, but we have been forgiven for our carelessness in allowing it to happen, and two people on the committee have approached me with kindness - one committee member even stopping me in a shop to tell me, “people want to help you, Elodie, we’re your friends, you know.” Citation needed, but there you go.

Saturdays are always made especially for me dreadful by taking children to swimming lessons, on foot both ways, but usually we walk on to meet friends for coffee after. I go out with my friends and play board games with our neighbours and have learned how to play Wingspan.

Dr Glass received an official diagnosis of ME, but I bought a robot vacuum in the strength of that - saying, well, why assume things will ever get easier? Let’s get easy now! - and actually I really like having a robot vacuum!!

There have been more causes than I could help with, but my promotion has strengthened the coffers, so this month I’ve been able to donate to a few!

Due to childcare falling through, I had to take all three kids to an antifash protest in the cold and was dreading it - the walking, the whining, is it going to be awkward, i trust the organisers but HE’S not bringing his kids, GOD. But then my neighbour and her giant puppy came with us! on purpose! And we knew a lot of people there and the kids played.

I had to buy some clothes for work, and I never buy anything new (never having money) and was scared I’d get it wrong (stupid and weird) but I buckled up and bought these: https://www.disturbia.co.uk/products/rosamoth-button-up-midi-skirt https://www.disturbia.co.uk/products/swamplife-frog-embroidered-linen-blend-high-waist-midaxi-skirt

And it sounds bonkers, but the amount of people at work, etc, who have come up and instantly allied themselves with me on the strength of Frog Skirt / Moth Skirt has strengthened my convictions. Strongly recommend Frog Skirt / Moth Skirt and their emotional equivalents if you hit a stage of career where you need to suddenly level up.

I am thinking about counterweights. And kindness. And the balance of the turning world. And the light in the sky coming back. And, unfortunately, Killie, but he’s a counterweight too; sure, he’s awful, but we already know he contains the seeds of becoming okay.

As evidence suggests that many things do.

Thank you for your shining kindness, and my love back to you 💫

[neferaskingdom]

Valentine Hotline | LN4

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: Running a Valentine’s hotline was supposed to be fun—until she accidentally helps Bob plan the perfect date… for herself.

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

The last thing she expected to be doing this Valentine’s Day was running an anonymous emergency hotline for lovesick fools, but here she was—headset on, taking call after call, all in the name of charity. Her best friend had roped her into this, promising it would be “fun,” but so far, all she had done was talk panicked men out of buying last-minute gas station flowers.

Her latest call came in with a hesitant, almost nervous greeting. “Uh… hi. Is this Cupid?”

“That’s me,” she said, suppressing a laugh at the ridiculous alias she’d been assigned. “How can I help you, caller?”

There was a pause before he mumbled, “I need help asking out my crush.”

She smiled, already endeared. “Of course! What’s your name?”

A beat of silence, then—“Bob.”

She snorted. “Bob, huh? Okay, Bob, tell me about your crush.”

Bob sighed dreamily, and when he spoke again, it was with a kind of reverence that made her heart melt. “She’s amazing. Like, so cute, but not in a way that she even realizes. And she’s really smart—like, she remembers the smallest details about people, and she’s kind, too. Like, the kind of kind where she doesn’t even think twice about it, she just does things that make life easier for everyone around her. And she’s so funny, sometimes without even trying. I mean, she makes me laugh over the dumbest things. And—God, she’s way out of my league, but I really, really like her. It’s ridiculous how much I like her.”

Her heart melted. “That’s adorable. Have you spoken to her before?”

“Sort of,” he admitted. “We work together, but I don’t talk to her a lot because… well, I’m afraid I’ll say something stupid. I get irrationally shy around her.”

That piqued her curiosity. “Coworker, huh? What do you guys do?”

“I can’t say too much, or it’ll be obvious who I am,” Bob said quickly.

She nodded, intrigued but respecting his anonymity. “Alright, Bob. First things first, you need to start interacting with her more—test the waters, see how she reacts to you. Start flirting a little.”

“Oh God.”

She laughed. “Relax! I’ll help you. We’ll come up with a plan.”

And so, over the next few days, she helped Bob craft the perfect approach. They planned small conversations, little ways for him to test the waters—compliments, inside jokes, light teasing. He seemed enthusiastic yet nervous, but she assured him he was doing great.

Strangely, around the same time, Lando Norris—someone who had never gone out of his way to talk to her before—started showing up more often. He’d stop by her desk with a cheeky grin, making flirty comments that left her flushed. At first, she chalked it up to him just being friendly, but it kept happening.

“Looking good today,” Lando said one afternoon, leaning casually against her desk.

She rolled her eyes but felt her face warm. “Are you just going around giving out compliments to everyone?”

“Only to the pretty ones.” He winked, and she nearly choked on her coffee.

It was weird. But she couldn’t say she hated it.

A few days before Valentine’s Day, she was finishing up some work when Lando hovered nearby, looking uncharacteristically nervous. He shifted from foot to foot before finally clearing his throat.

“Hey, um… can I talk to you for a sec?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

She turned in her chair, surprised by his serious tone. “Sure, what’s up?”

He exhaled, looking at the floor before meeting her eyes. “I… uh, was wondering if you wanted to go out with me. Like, on a date. For Valentine’s Day.”

Her brain short-circuited for a moment. “Wait. You’re asking me out?”

Lando winced. “I mean, yeah? But you don’t have to say yes, obviously, I just thought—”

She cut him off with a grin. “Lando, I’d love to.”

His eyes widened. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” she laughed.

The relief on his face was almost comical. “Oh. Oh, cool! That’s great. Okay, um, yeah, I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Sounds perfect.”

He left looking a little dazed but incredibly happy, and she couldn't help but smile to herself.

That night, Bob called her one last time.

“She said yes!” he practically shouted through the phone. “I asked her out, and she said yes!”

She grinned, heart swelling with pride. “Bob! That’s amazing! I told you she’d like you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you. Seriously, if—no, when—we get married, you’re getting an invite.”

She laughed. “I’ll hold you to that. Have fun on your date, Bob.”

“Thanks, Cupid. You’re the best.”

And with that, her hotline duties were done.

The next evening, she met Lando for their date, dressed in a pretty outfit and buzzing with anticipation. He looked a little nervous, which was unusual for him, but she found it endearing. The restaurant was charming, the table setup romantic—candles, her favorite flowers, the works.

She took one look at it all and hesitated. The setup felt oddly familiar. Too familiar.

The restaurant. The flowers. The exact order of events.

Her stomach flipped as a ridiculous but nagging thought entered her mind. She looked at Lando, who was focused on cutting his steak, completely unaware of her staring.

“This is going to sound weird,” she began slowly, watching his reaction, “but do you know someone named Bob?”

Lando’s knife froze mid-slice. His head snapped up so fast she thought he might get whiplash. “W-what?”

She gaped at him. “Oh my God. You’re Bob, aren’t you??”

Lando opened and closed his mouth like a fish, looking utterly horrified. “H-how do you—how do you know that?”

She let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Because I’m Cupid.”

Lando choked on his water, coughing as his eyes widened in horror. “No. No way.”

“Yes way,” she said, grinning at his absolute mortification. “I can’t believe I spent days coaching you on how to flirt with me.”

Lando groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh my God. I’m never living this down.”

She reached across the table, placing her hand over his. “Lando.”

He peeked at her between his fingers. “Yeah?”

She smiled softly. “So… all those sweet things you said about your crush… they were actually about me?”

Lando groaned again, face going bright red. “I—uh—maybe?”

She felt her heart flutter, warmth spreading through her chest. “That’s honestly the sweetest thing ever.”

Lando let out a breath, rubbing his temples. “You must think I’m such a loser. Calling a hotline of all things just to figure out how to ask you out.”

She shook her head, squeezing his hand. “No. I think it’s endearing. You went out of your way to make sure you got it right. You wanted it to be perfect. That’s really, really sweet.”

He looked at her, expression softening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Their dinner was filled with laughter and easy conversation, and by the time he walked her to her door, she felt lighter than ever. He hesitated on her porch, shoving his hands into his pockets. “So, uh… goodnight?”

She rolled her eyes, stepping closer. “Goodnight, Bob.”

Before he could groan again, she kissed him, soft and sweet, smiling against his lips as he melted into it. When she pulled away, he was grinning like an idiot.

“Best Valentine’s Day ever,” he murmured.

She laughed. “Yeah. I think so too.”

[quitefawnish]

the prize of prey

knight!au, simon riley x reader, kyle garrick x reader, johnny mactavish x reader, brief soap x gaz, mentioned john price x reader

cw: noncon/dubcon, abuse of power

word count: 3.6k

synopsis: this is inspired by one of my classes actually, where we discussed how knights in the middle ages only had to court noble women, whereas any peasant woman was open to their desires, and they were in fact encouraged to do so. while this is disgusting as a concept, i am also disgusting, so ofc i wrote this..

Everyone in the kingdom knew to stay out of the way of the knights. It was a common sight to see a vendor being heckled by a group of knights while many people walked by without sparing a glance. So you were well aware of how fucked you were when a group of them approached you at the market.

They were in their casual wear but the scabbards at their hips spoke to their knight status. The first one that started the conversation had tanned skin and a crooked grin that caused the edges of his stark blue eyes to crinkle.

His brown hair was styled in a mohawk, with the hair on the sides of his head crudely shaven away, and by the nicks that were spread across his scalp, you guessed he did it himself.

“Well, hello there, bonnie,” he practically whispered in your ear.

His hands gripped your waist as he pulled himself to stand closer to you with his chest against your back.

You stiffened, turning your head slightly backwards to peer at him. You had seen the group of them wandering the market earlier and you had hoped that’s the last you would see of them. You were not so lucky.

The second one, to your relief, pulled Mohawk off of you.

“Don’t crowd her, ye git” He gave you a grin, acting as if his friend hadn’t just groped you a second ago, but you had to admit, he was so pretty, it almost worked.

He had brown skin and tight curls that were close-cropped to his head. His facial hair was neatly trimmed, and his brown eyes sparkled with a mirth you didn’t share.

“I’m Gaz” he said, then he pointed to Mohawk, “he’s Soap.”

“But ye can call me Johnny, if ye like,” Soap interrupted, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

Gaz just shot him a glare and then pointed to the last man who had just been observing this whole interaction, “and this is Ghost.”

Ghost was a hulking creature of man, and if he wasn’t intimidating enough, he had on a skull-painted balaclava. Through the gap in the fabric you could see just his pale skin and soulless dark brown eyes that were boring into your soul.

You introduced yourself as they all stared at you expectantly.

“‘s a pretty name fer a pretty lass” Soap practically cooed at you.

This made you tuck further in yourself, wishing you could just disappear on the spot, “I.. don’t think this is appropriate.”

Gaz cocked his head slightly, “And why is that?”

You swallowed thickly, “B-because I don’t think my husband would approve.”

It was a complete gamble, maybe these knights would leave you alone if they thought you had a man to protect you. Problem is, you were decidedly not married, and all you could do was hope they wouldn’t see through your bluff.

“Husband?” Soap made a show of looking around, “if ye’re married, then where is he?”

“A man shouldn’t leave his woman to fend for herself in such a dangerous place, especially not one as beautiful as you, someone might try to take advantage,” Gaz said in a worried tone, but it was ruined by the slight grin on his face.

“He.. he went home already, I told him I needed to get one last thing, and I would be right home,” your lie was falling apart as soon as it left your mouth.

“He should have waited, no sense in making your woman walk home alone,” Soap grumbled.

By now, they had almost backed you into a corner, both literally and figuratively, as they advanced forward, forcing you to inch back towards the fruit stand behind you.

“He-he knows the people in the community, they would never do anything to me,” you managed to stammer out.

“If this husband o’ yours is real, where’s your ring?” You were startled as Ghost finally spoke up, his voice deep and rumbling as he glared at you with accusing eyes.

You put your right hand up and looked at it, faking bewilderment, “Oh! I must have left it at home this morning.”

“Ah, right, sorry for pestering you, then,” Gaz said, bowing slightly for emphasis, the other two following suit.

You gave them a small, nervous curtsy in response and smiled awkwardly at the three of them, “It’s quite alright. If you’ll excuse me, I think I should head home now.”

You started to walk away when Soap put out an arm to stop you, “Aye, but it wouldnae be right of us to let a woman walk home by herself.”

Your heart plummeted to your feet and your eyes involuntarily widened with horror.

“I should be okay walking by myself, thank you for the offer, sirs,” you said as you attempted to shoulder past Soap.

He just moved closer to you, “It wouldnae be right,” he said in a darker tone, implying this wasn’t up for debate.

You looked between Gaz and Ghost, who had blocked your other exits, and it didn’t seem like they were willing to budge on this either. You swallowed nervously, “R-right, let’s go, then.”

When you made it to your house, you had half-hoped for them to bid you a good night and go on their way.

They, of course, insisted on meeting your so-called husband and giving him a good talk about respecting his wife. You were fairly certain that at this point it was like a game for them.

It was obvious from the start that they never believed you and they knew you knew that, but that didn’t stop them from continuing this ruse, they were having too much fun.

You opened the door to an empty and dark house, it being abundantly clear that no one had been in the place since you left that morning.

“O-oh, I don’t know where he went, he must have gone looking for me since I took so long,” you lied, but winced at your wavering tone.

“Lass, we would have run into him on the way,” Soap said, making you turn around to face the three of them.

“He knows some different paths, maybe he took one of those,” you continued lying, knowing that it was never going to convince them, but you needed to keep talking or you were going to cry.

Noticing the devastated look on your face, Gaz walked forward and took your face in his hands, “It’s alright, luv, we’re not going to hurt you.”

You were shaking so bad that your teeth were practically rattling out of your skull, “You’re not? You’re.. going to leave me alone?”

Soap just shook his head, tutting at you, “We didnae say that, just that we aren’t gonna hurt ye, in fact, you’ll probably like it.”

The grin on his face made your stomach churn, and you stepped back from Gaz’s hands, backing up until you hit your bed frame. It startled you as you stumbled back into the wood, and you looked back to see what you had run into before trying to steady yourself.

When you turned back around, Gaz and Soap were practically face-to-face with you, Ghost choosing to settle in a dark corner of the room, settling into a chair as it let out a big creak of stress under his weight.

You turned your gaze back to the two knights in front of you who both have matching looks in their eyes, a mix of lust and excitement, as they eye you up and down.

“P-please don’t” you managed to stutter out.

Soap just pressed a finger to your lips, “Shhh, you’re okay. We’re going to take good care of you.”

You tried to lean out of the way as Gaz’s lips came towards yours, squeezing your eyes shut as if you could pretend all of this wasn’t happening.

Rough hands gripped your head, pulling your face towards Gaz, who captured your lips in his. As your eyes flew open, you saw that it was both Gaz and Soap’s hands that were holding you steady. Gaz’s other hand settled on your waist, gripping at the soft flesh underneath the fabric of your dress.

He leaned into the kiss, being somewhat gentle, as if he didn’t want to scare you off just so soon. You gasped softly into his lips as you felt Soap’s tongue on your neck, licking a stripe from your neck up to your face, ending it with a wet kiss to the apple of your check.

Gaz pulled away, staring blatantly down at your body before he began to undo the strings at the back of your bodice.

You tried to pull away, muttering out a soft “no” in protest, but Gaz worked efficiently enough that he was able to pull the piece over your head before you could do much else. Soap grinned down at your body, the top half of your thin chemise having been revealed.

Your hardened nipples poked through the sheer clothing, your body having betrayed you in response to Gaz’s kiss. Soap seemed transfixed as he palmed at your breast through the material, cupping both hands underneath your nipples.

“So bonnie, and just for us to see, aye?” he asked.

You couldn’t even move your mouth to answer and you just remained rooted to the spot no matter how much you wished you could move, fight them off, anything.

Soap didn’t seem to mind your lack of response, carrying on fondling your tits. While Soap was transfixed, Gaz slipped off your skirts, leaving you now with one practically translucent layer, which he was now starting to pull off as well.

That was when you got the courage to move, attempting to cover your body while also trying to keep your chemise on. Instead of grabbing your arms like you thought they would, Soap simply pushed you backwards so you landed with an ‘oof’ on your bed.

You tried to scramble away, slipping over your sheets in your desperation but Soap yanked you back towards them, “Behave.”

You swallowed nervously and stopped trying to struggle away, actually finding yourself nodding to his command.

He grinned, “Good girl.”

His words sent shivers down your body, ending with a fluttering in your cunt.

“Told you we were gonna make you feel good, yeah?” Gaz said, positioning himself in the space between your legs, gripping your thighs open with an ease that betrayed just how strong he was compared to you.

“I don’t want this,” you surprised yourself when you said this, having been frozen in fear just moments before.

Soap, who was now positioned in the space above your head, smiled down at you, brushing your hair back against your scalp, “Dinnae say that just yet, think ye’ll like this next part.”

Knowing that your protests would fall on deaf, uncaring ears, you shut your mouth and looked back down at Gaz who had now pulled the bottom part of your chemise up to reveal your pussy to the night air. Once again, you tried desperately to have some remaining decency and pulled your dress back down, only for Soap to grab your hands and pull them back to your chest.

He held them in an X formation with one hand gripping around both of your wrists, “Och, dinnae be naughty, lass. Wouldnae want for Ghost to have to punish ye.”

Your eyes flicked over to the man who was sitting in the corner who was staring over at the three of you, and you noticed him lazily palming at a bulge in his pants. You swallowed nervously and shook your head, looking back at Soap, “I’ll be good, I promise.”

He seemed satisfied and nodded to Gaz, who had flipped the bottom half of your chemise up once again. He pressed gentle kisses to your inner thighs, trailing up until he reached your entrance. It was horrible because even though you wanted them to stop, you needed for Gaz to hurry up and put his mouth on your aching bud.

As if sensing your thoughts, he put his lips to your clit and sucked. You couldn’t stop the whimper that slipped from your lips as he did this, your face flushing at the realization of the obscene noise that you had made.

It only egged Gaz on more as he began to practically make out with your pussy, wet smacking sounds echoing around the room.

Soap, meanwhile, had shifted your hands to pin them above your head, therefore giving him unobstructed access to your tits. He latched his mouth to your right nipple, sucking through the fabric.

He used his free hand to grope at your other breast, practically kneading it like a cat. All you could do was whimper softly, your arms and legs both being restrained. It wasn’t long before you could feel a pressure building between your legs, feeling the pleasure crescendo until it hit its peak and your body started shaking uncontrollably.

You could dimly hear Soap praising you with his mouth still on your nipple with your ears ringing slightly.

As the wave overtook you, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes back into your head. Gaz unsucked with a loud popping noise, and as your sight returned to normal, you saw him grinning triumphantly between your legs.

Soap had already unlatched from your tit, the sheer fabric that covered it being almost translucent from the saliva. Now that you had finally relaxed, or rather, was too tired to move or try to struggle, Soap let go of your arms. You left them where they were hanging above your head as you tried to catch your breath.

At that moment, Ghost stood up from the chair, startling you, as you had almost forgotten he was there.

“My turn,” he said gruffly, which made both Gaz and Soap complain loudly.

“Och, but I’m achin’ LT,” Soap complained, almost whining as he gestured to his dick which was straining against his pants.

“‘ave Kyle take care o’ you” he said matter-of-factly.

Although you weren’t sure of their ranks within the knight’s guard, it was clear that these two readily deferred to him as Soap reluctantly slipped off the bed.

Ghost walked towards you, looking you up and down with almost calculating eyes. All you could do was whimper softly as he approached you, half paralyzed from fear.

His eyes softened slightly as he looked down at you, and although you flinched as he outstretched a hand, he simply stroked your cheek with a softness you didn’t know he was capable of.

“Poor thing, probably scared out o’ your mind.”

You nodded meekly, hoping maybe he would take mercy on you and leave you alone.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good, yeah?”

He then undressed his lower half which was littered in scars and which also freed his erect cock, one that looked like it could split you in half, precum glistening at the tip.

Your eyes widened at the sight of it, “I.. I don’t think it’s going to fit.”

He shook his head, “It’s gonna fit, don’t worry, ‘sides, my boys warmed you up for me, didn’t they?”

You looked over at Gaz and Soap, the former helping Soap out by stroking along his cock with spit-slicked hands, making Soap moan out words in a language you didn’t understand. You stopped looking when Ghost’s hands found your jaw and turned your face back to him.

“Asked you a question, love.”

You nodded, but your lower lip wobbled slightly.

That just seemed to egg him on more, and his eyes crinkled through the gap in his mask. He repositioned you so you were facedown on the bed, legs dangling off the side so your ass was level with his pelvis.

He pulled up your chemise, and once again, your pussy was exposed to the night air. He sucked in a breath at the sight of it, dragging one finger up through the folds and dipping it into your hole. You inhaled sharply at the intrusion, clenching slightly on his finger in shock.

He just laughed, “Careful you don’t squeeze like that while I’m inside, yeah? ‘fraid I’d never pull out.” You took the message and forced yourself to relax, knowing that it was happening either way and it was best just to make things easier on yourself.

You tried not to jump again when he dragged his tip down your pussy, gathering the come that had collected in between your folds. Then he pressed into your hole, it traitorously sucking him in with ease.

He was able to get it in a good amount of inches before your insides started to ache. Sure, maybe you’d had a couple of fingers in there before but nothing like this, certainly not this length or girth.

You whimpered softly as he pressed in further and he soothingly pet your hair as he paused for a moment.

“You’re okay, I know, I know” he said, soothingly, “Just a bit more, okay?” You nodded weakly, knowing that it wasn’t an option to back out now.

“Good girl” he murmured softly as he pressed inch by inch into you.

You whined pitifully as his pelvis pressed against your ass, his cock now fully inside you.

It hurt, but what was worse to you was that this hurt felt.. good. You hardly had a second to take all of him before he slowly pulled out again, and stupidly, you began to hope he was done.

Those dreams were dashed the second he slammed back into you, making you cry out in surprise. He continued this, rocking back and forth into you, his cock dragging in and out of your hole as you gripped the sheets beneath you for stability.

Then, he lowered himself on top of you, bending over at his hips to press himself against your back. All you could hear were his grunts and the sound of his balls slapping against your pussy as he pounded into you.

Even though tears were building up in your eyes, you could also feel pleasure building between your legs at the continuous thrusting. Your body tensed up as you felt another wave overtake you, the sensations making your legs shake uncontrollably underneath Ghost’s.

Your breathy moans earned an even faster pace, causing a slight staccato in your breathing.

Now that your orgasm had ended, the pleasure bordered on painful and with the increased thrusts, you whimpered softly, “It hurts.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of your head and through his panting he said, “I know, I know, just a little longer. ‘m almost there.”

You felt another wave building, this time it felt too intense, too painful, but you couldn’t stop it from overtaking you just as Ghost slowed above you, grunting in your ear as he finished inside you. You couldn’t breathe for a terrifying moment, your lungs drawing in no air as your vision darkened. The ringing in your ears grew louder as you lost sensation, and eventually, lost consciousness.

When you woke up what you assumed to be a few seconds later, Ghost had pulled out of you and you were laying on your back on the bed. You could feel his and your come dripping out of your pussy which was still fluttering around nothing.

He had pulled his pants up and redone his belt, now fully dressed again.

He looked over at you, “Lost you there for a second, that good, am I?”

You didn’t really know what to say in response, sure, he was good, but he also forced his way into your home and your body. You weren’t about to praise the man that violated you. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind your lack of response, looking over to Soap and Gaz who had both finished, seeming both literally and figuratively.

Soap gave you a lopsided grin, “Put on quite a show, lass. Told ye we’d take care of ye.”

“Will you leave me be, now?” you asked bluntly. Now that they had all had their fair share, all you wanted was for them to leave so you could tend to yourself and lick your wounds.

Gaz raised an eyebrow, “Rid of you? Who said anything about that?”

Your heart sank, “I.. I just assumed that once you got what you wanted, you’d leave.”

Ghost shook his head as if you had said something egregiously stupid, “Don’t you get it? You are what we wanted, and we’re not letting you go that easily. From the moment we laid eyes on you, we had to have you.”

You looked between the three of them, this hadn’t been a spur of the moment thing, they had planned this. You knew all along that they knew you weren’t married, but you didn’t think they had planned this, all for them to take you like some unruly spoil of war at the end.

“You can’t do this, someone will wonder where I am,” you mustered the energy to sit up in bed, glaring at the three of them.

“Really? From the looks of it, you live alone, no one knows who you are, and we’re knights. It’s our duty to take things like you home, protect you, take care of you” Gaz said, taking on a more serious tone.

“Y-you can’t do this” you helplessly repeated.

“Oh, lass, we can, and we will. Dinnae worry your pretty little head about it. King John already said he would be very interested in meeting you, doubt he would be too happy if you refused,” Soap’s grin seemed almost malicious now in this lighting.

“It’s time to go home,” Ghost said, scooping you up from the bed.

You were unable to do anything but cry weakly into his shoulder as they brought you to their horses, knowing this would be the rest of your life and there was nothing you could do about it.

a/n: ah ok! first fic on this acct and actually, my first fic writing smut 🫣 so lmk what you guys think, maybe i can write a part two if you’re interested??

sword divider by @/sister-lucifer

[lananiscorner]

Eh... this is not so much a "neurotypical" problem as it is a "general conflict management and de-escalation" problem, and it can have multiple reasons. Let's just say person A says person B did something wrong, B wants an explanation and A refuses to give one. This can be for any one of the following reasons:

A is used to good faith attempts at clarifying being met with bad faith/abusive/manipulative attempts to pick their logic apart and/or gaslight them by feigning ignorance/incompetence, and so has taken up a policy of "do not engage". This can be a generally good and healthy approach in many situations (e.g. someone hits on you at a bar, you tell them you're not interested, they ask you why not, you say they're not your type, they ask what exactly makes them not your type, etc. You are now already 2 levels deeper into this conversation than you ever wanted to be and feeling more gang-pressed into giving information, which is triggering your fight or flight instincts).

A is using this withholding of information as a means of emotional manipulation themselves, to keep B from properly articulating their own point/needs/wants/boundaries.

A doesn't quite understand the reasoning for why B is wrong themselves. This is common with social norms and behaviors, which are ingrained in most people at an age when they are too young to reason their way through them. Somebody in the notes mentioned the example of unspoken, nitty-gritty grammar rules, like how you would say "the big red truck" but not "the red big truck" and how to a non-native speaker this rule doesn't make sense. Sometimes the answer really is just "because" and nobody likes being grilled for information that they themselves don't have. It feels like being interrogated rather than having a conversation.

People who are good at something generally underestimate the knowledge/skill base of people who are not good at it. Y'all know that meme where the two scientists go "we have to be careful, most people probably only know X and maybe a bit of Y", where X and Y are things that nobody outside that field of study would know? This is the same thing. Sometimes people genuinely don't understand how specific you need them to be. Easy example: I grew in a culture that values punctuality. You show up to everything ideally 5-10 minutes before it starts. But I have one friend who absolutely hated that, who was constantly stressed out if I arrived at her place 5 minutes early, and I genuinely did not understand why this was such a problem for her and why she couldn't just prep for guests earlier (we had both grown up in this culture), until she explained to me in great detail how her mind would just use that extra time to find increasingly minute, procrastinating details to hyper focus on and lose track of time, giving me a few examples of such issues. That last bit was what was needed to make my brain go "oh, that's why, ok, I'll try to show up *shudders* 10 minutes late in the future".

They are low on spoons and don't have the time/energy needed to get into a longer conversation. This gets progressively worse the more introverted a person is.

Scenario 1, 3 and 4 are generally resolved fairly easily by being very upfront, but calm about it: "A, I like you and I want to do right by you, but I really, genuinely mean it when I say that I don't know what I did wrong. My brain is currently desperately trying to trace back every step that has happened and to find out what went wrong, and it can't, so clearly I'm missing some steps. Please explain it to me like you would explain it to some space alien that has just been dropped on Earth and has never been in situation X before, so I can do better next time."

At this point, if it's scenario 5 (no time/energy), Person A will usually say so (sometimes rudely, depending on how close they are to what Captain Awkward lovingly calls the Bitch Eating Crackers level of mental spoons exhaustion). This is a good point to ask " Okay, I understand. I'll ask some other time, when you have more time/energy if that's okay with you."

And if the answer you get then is some variation of "no it's fucking not, we're done talking about this ever", then you know that, at the very least, this person does not consider you important/worthwhile enough to set aside two minutes of their time to help you understand something, even when they have the time/energy.

And if you keep on running into this with the same person multiple times, then I'm sorry to say, it's likely scenario 2.

[ghoularaki]

Can I ask for your event, 🥺👉👈, Xavier in the parlor, please 🥺👉👈

NOW ENTERING HEART'S DESIRE MOTEL

cw: possessive/jealous xavier, cunnilingus, marking

Xavier pulled you into the room with a firm grip on your wrist. Not enough to be bruising, but you wouldn’t be able to pull from his hold anytime soon. Shifting his grasp on you to your lower back, he pushed your further into the room and you ungracefully stumbled on your heels. Behind you, Xavier locked the door.

Turning to him with your hands on your hips, you glared up at him, “What exactly are you doing? You can’t barge into any room without permission…” You trailed off as Xavier started to approach you.

He didn’t respond to your nagging as he sauntered over to you with intent. Instinctively, each stride he took, you stepped backwards. A darkness over took his usually bright eyes.

“Anytime I take you anymore,” He came closer, “it seems everyone wants to take you from me.”

His voice dripped with jealousy. Not once did he stop his prowl to you. Keeping your gaze at him you didn’t notice the couch was behind you until the back of your knees hit the edge. Unable to go anywhere else you fell onto the soft couch. He did not stop until he completely crowded you against the plush velvet. Both arms caged you.

Xavier’s fingers dug in backing as he continued, “You’re mine.”

You gaped up at him, “Xavier, I was literally just talking to a work-”

“It seems I have to make sure you know that, too.”

His eyes trailed down along with his right hand that crept from the couch to brush against your cheek. Those slender fingers traced the line of your jaw and down the front of your fragile throat. They followed how your throat bobbled when you nervously gulped.

To your surprise, Xavier slipped down on his knees. You stared down in shock as he shift his hold to your thighs and parted them. He slid further between your spread legs. Catching the hem of your dress, he lifted it up until your lacy panties were exposed.

Boldly, he leaned forward and kissed your clit over the flimsy fabric. Your thighs jumped at the faint simulation. Xavier chuckled and blew air on your pussy.

“So sensitive.”

“Shut up,” You pouted.

He only smiled. Turning his head, he nuzzled into your soft thigh. Gentle kisses were scattered against the warm skin. Mouthing back up to your pussy, Xavier sucked your clit, not caring the fabric was still in the way. Your hips bucked up, impatient.

Knowing exactly what you needed, his deft fingers hooked around the band. You tilted your hips upwards to help him relieve you of the barrier. He slipped on foot and then the other from the holes. Coyly with no regard you were watching, he pocketed your panties.

“Hey!”

Xavier gave you sly look and then brought his head down. Going straight to work, he licked from your hole up to your clit. Cupping his rosy lips around the bud, he sucked.

“Ah!” You moaned.

His fingers dug into plush of your thighs. Releasing you, he sloppily made out with your cunt. His thumbs parted your labia to give him better excess. Dragging his tongue, he thrusted the muscle in and out. He moaned into you when you clenched. The vibrations only made you shake more.

Going back to your clit, one hand left your thigh and went to your hole. With no resistance, two fingers slipped inside. Wetness dripped down, a dark patch forming under your bum. Xavier used the slick to easily thrust into your pussy while it coated his lower face.

Him scissoring his digits had you frantically grip your dress and then his hair. At the pull, Xavier moaned again.

“Please, please!” You begged, falling completely and utterly apart for him.

Xavier kept his pace but sucked harder on your clit. He knew your body like it was his own. You were his favorite puzzle he has solved over and over.

Pulling off with a pop, he looked up, “Come on, pretty girl, you can do it.”

Your chest heaved as he picked up the pace. Tilting his head, he sucked and bit into the meat of your thigh. Little love bites were planted all over the skin. About to come apart, you squirmed and whined.

A cry erupted from your throat as he bit further down on your thigh to hold you down. Angling the pads of his fingers, he rubbed right against the spongy spot deep with in you. You moaned out again, louder than intended as you came all over the couch and his fingers.

As wetness flowed from you, Xavier suctioned his lips onto your pussy once more. He suckled you while you came down from your high. Whining, you pushed away his head. Pulling away, you whimpered again when his fingers departed from your spasming hole.

Helping to stabilize you, he rubbed his warm palms up and down your thighs. You looked at him blearily, floaty.

“You don’t need anyone but me, right?”

Not really paying attention, you nodded, “Uh huh.”

Satsified, Xavier kissed your thigh, a smug smile present on his glossy lips.

[woozinhos]

Over worked underfucked woozi

Notes: hope you enjoy thank you for requesting stay safe and healthy guys <3

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.

Woozi was stressed out and exhausted, his usual bright demeanor replaced by a frown. He had been working nonstop for weeks, and his body was feeling the effects. You knew him well enough to see the signs of his overworking. His shoulders were tense, his movements slow and sluggish. He had dark circles under his eyes and he was constantly yawning.

"Hey," you said gently, approaching him as he sat at his desk. "You look like you need a break." Woozi looked up at you with a tired smile. "I'm fine," he said, but his voice betrayed him. He sounded weary and worn out. You sat down next to him and took his hand in yours. "You're not fine," you said firmly. "You need to take care of yourself." Woozi sighed and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. "I know," he admitted. "I just have so much to do. The comeback is getting closer and I want everything to be perfect." You squeezed his hand gently, your heart aching for him. "I understand, but pushing yourself like this isn't going to help. You need to rest and recharge."

Woozi opened his eyes and looked at you with a mixture of gratitude and frustration. "I wish I could, but there's just so much to do." You stood up and pulled him to his feet. "Come on," you said, guiding him towards the bedroom. "You're going to take a break, whether you like it or not." Woozi protested weakly as you led him into the bedroom, but he didn't put up much of a fight. He was too tired to argue. Once inside, you gently pushed him onto the bed and started undressing him. He watched you with tired eyes, a small smile on his face.

"You're so bossy," he said, his voice laced with affection. You chuckled and kissed his forehead. "Someone has to take care of you when you're being stubborn."

You think to yourself before asking him. “Babe when was the last time we fucked?” Woozi blushed slightly at your question, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "Um, I don't know," he said, avoiding your gaze. "It's been a while." You knew him well enough to know that he was being evasive. You straddled his lap and ran your fingers through his hair, trying to coax the truth out of him.

"Come on, Woozi," you said softly. "You can tell me." Woozi sighed and looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and desire. "It's been over a month," he admitted. "I've just been so busy with work, I haven't had time for anything else." You felt a pang of sympathy for him. You knew how much he loved sex and how much he missed it when he didn't have time for it.

"I'm sorry," you said, leaning down to kiss his neck. "You must be feeling so pent up." Woozi let out a soft moan as you kissed his neck, his body responding to your touch. "I am," he whispered. "I've been so stressed and frustrated. I need you, Y-N." You continued to kiss and nibble on his neck, your hands roaming over his chest and abs. You could feel his muscles tense under your touch, his body already starting to respond to your ministrations.

"Shhh, I'm going to take care of you," you murmured, your lips moving up to his ear. "Just relax and let me do all the work." Woozi's eyes fluttered shut as you whispered in his ear, his body going limp beneath you. He was completely at your mercy, surrendering to your touch. You began to undress him slowly, taking your time to savor every inch of his skin. You ran your hands over his toned chest and stomach, feeling the way his muscles quivered under your touch. As you reached his boxers, you could see the outline of his hardening cock straining against the fabric. You palmed him gently, eliciting a low groan from Woozi. Woozi's hips bucked upwards, seeking more friction. He was already panting, his breath coming in short gasps.

"Please," he begged, his voice hoarse with need. "I need you to touch me properly." You smirked and pulled his boxers down, freeing his cock from its confines. You wrapped your hand around it, giving it a few slow strokes.

"Patience, baby," you said, your voice teasing. "I'm going to take my time with you." Woozi's eyes snapped open, his pupils blown wide with lust. "Please," he repeated, his voice desperate. "I can't wait any longer. I need to feel you around me." You could see the desperation in his eyes, and you knew that he was on the verge of begging. You decided to give him what he wanted.

"Okay, baby," you said, your own arousal growing. "I'll ride you." You straddled his hips again, positioning yourself over his cock. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, and you knew that he was barely holding himself back from thrusting up into you.

"Look at you," you said, your voice low and sultry. "So needy and desperate for me." Woozi's eyes were fixed on your face, his expression a mix of need and desire. "Only for you," he whispered, his hands coming up to grip your hips. You slowly lowered yourself onto him, taking him inch by inch. You both moaned in unison as he filled you up completely.

"Fuck," Woozi groaned, his fingers digging into your skin. "You feel so good." You began to move, slowly at first, but quickly picking up the pace. You rode him hard and fast, bouncing up and down on his cock. Woozi was a mess beneath you, his eyes rolling back in his head as he let out a string of moans and curses. He was completely lost in the pleasure, his body arching off the bed as he tried to thrust up into you.

"That's it, baby," you panted, your own pleasure building with each movement. "Let go for me." Woozi was so close to the edge, his body trembling with need. "I'm gonna cum," he gasped, his fingers digging even deeper into your hips. You leaned down and captured his lips in a searing kiss, your tongue tangling with his. You reached down and began to rub your clit, chasing your own release.

"Cum for me, Woozi," you whispered against his lips. "Cum inside me." Woozi's body tensed as he reached his peak, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave. He buried his face in your neck, biting down on your shoulder as he came hard inside you. You followed soon after, your own climax hitting you like a bolt of lightning. You cried out his name as you rode out your orgasm, your body trembling against his.

You collapsed on top of him, both of you breathing heavily as you tried to catch your breath. Woozi held you tightly, his arms wrapped around you like a vice. Woozi's legs were still shaking from the intensity of his orgasm, and he held onto you like you were his lifeline. He was panting heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to come down from his high. Woozi was exhausted, but his body was still reacting to you. He continued to thrust his hips up weakly, his cock still hard inside you.

"I can't... stop," he panted, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "You feel so good, I just want to keep going." You chuckled and kissed his forehead. "You're insatiable," you teased, gently rocking your hips against his. Woozi groaned in response, his eyes rolling back again. "I can't help it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You make me feel so good."

He tried to thrust up harder, but his movements were sluggish and uncoordinated. You could tell that he was nearing his limit. You continued to ride him, using his chest for support. You could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath your palm, his body still on fire from your touch. Woozi's eyes were glazed over with pleasure, his face flushed a deep shade of red. He was a mess, completely at your mercy as you took control.

"Y-Y/N," he stuttered, his voice cracking. "I can't take it anymore. I'm gonna cum again." You smiled down at him, loving the way he was completely undone beneath you. "Cum for me again, baby," you said, your voice dripping with seduction. "I want to feel you come apart again."

Woozi's body tensed up once more, and he let out a strangled cry as he came for a second time. His back arched off the bed, his muscles taut with release. This time, his orgasm was weaker than the first, but it was no less intense. He shuddered beneath you, his eyes rolling back in his head as he rode out the aftershocks. You slowed your movements to a stop, allowing him to come down from his high for the second time. Woozi lay there, limp and boneless, his chest heaving with exertion.

"You're too good to me," he mumbled, his eyes still closed. "I don't deserve you." You gently brushed the hair out of his face, a soft smile on your lips. "Don't say that," you said, your voice gentle. "You deserve everything, Woozi. You work so hard, and you always take care of everyone else. It's time someone took care of you." You leaned down and kissed him tenderly, pouring all your love and affection into the kiss. Woozi responded weakly, his lips moving lazily against yours.

[satsugacafe]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐧’𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐜̧𝐚𝐝𝐞

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: hellooo love ur blog <3 can I request hcs for soul society!aizen with a reader who isnt charmed easily and is a bit skeptical of his façade?

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: I was originally going to turn this into a fic (even though you asked for headcanons), but I was running out of creativity juices to keep it flowing :( It just sounded like it would be a great fic.

➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: When you don’t fall for Aizen’s two-faced performance during his time in the Gotei 13

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

˚₊‧꒰ა From the moment you joined the Gotei 13, you found yourself on the outskirts of every conversation involving Aizen. His reputation preceded him—calm, composed, effortlessly kind, with a voice that could soothe even the most restless souls. But something about him didn’t sit right with you. It wasn’t that he was rude or ever out of place. Quite the opposite. He was too perfect.

˚₊‧꒰ა You’d seen captains and lieutenants before. They were powerful, commanding presences, many of them hardened by battle and responsibility. Yet Aizen…smiled too easily. It wasn’t that his kindness seemed forced; it was that it never wavered. No one was that consistently unshakeable. People had cracks, moments of frustration, and lapses in their carefully crafted facades. But him? Not once. And that was enough to make you wary.

˚₊‧꒰ა He noticed you watching him. Of course he did. Aizen was a man who missed nothing. But he never confronted it directly. He didn’t need to. He was too skilled at playing the game of subtlety. Instead, he’d catch your eye in meetings, offer a faint smile when your gazes met across the training grounds, and always, always address you with a tone that felt meticulously chosen.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You seem thoughtful,” he said one day, catching you in a quiet corridor after a meeting had ended. His voice was light and conversational, but there was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that made you feel like you were being measured. “Do you often get lost in your thoughts like that?”

˚₊‧꒰ა You weren’t in the habit of being easily charmed by flowery words or gentle tones. You shrugged, not bothering to hide your suspicion. “Only when things don’t add up.”

˚₊‧꒰ა His smile never faltered, but there was a flicker of interest in his eyes. “And what, may I ask, isn’t adding up for you?”

˚₊‧꒰ა You knew better than to voice your thoughts outright. Aizen wasn’t the type of man you could accuse without solid evidence. He was too clever, too calculated. So instead, you shrugged again. “That would be telling.”

˚₊‧꒰ა It wasn’t the response he was expecting, and for a brief moment, the mask slipped. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his expression sharpening before he smoothed it over again. “Curious,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You’re not like the others.”

˚₊‧꒰ა His words hung in the air, and you knew he wasn’t talking about your combat skills or your rank within the Gotei 13. He was talking about your mind. About how you weren’t so easily swayed by his charm, how you saw the cracks in his otherwise perfect veneer.

˚₊‧꒰ა After that, he started to take a subtle interest in you. Nothing overt, nothing that would raise suspicion among your peers. But you noticed the way he seemed to gravitate toward you during group discussions, how his gaze would linger on you just a fraction longer than anyone else’s.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Do you not trust me?” he asked one day, his tone light and amused as if the question were a joke. But you could see the weight behind his words. He was testing you.

˚₊‧꒰ა You didn’t smile. “I don’t distrust you. But I also don’t trust anyone blindly.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He laughed. “A wise approach. Trust, after all, is a dangerous thing to give freely.”

˚₊‧꒰ა There were moments when you could feel him trying to draw you in, to make you let your guard down. He’d offer small compliments, casual remarks about your skill or your insight. But you never gave him the reaction he was looking for.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You must think me terribly boring,” he said once, with that same faint smile. “Always so serious, always so composed.”

˚₊‧꒰ა “No,” you replied, meeting his gaze head-on. “I think you’re too composed.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He chuckled at that, but there was no humour in it. “And what would you have me do? Shout? Lose my temper? Would that make me more trustworthy in your eyes?”

˚₊‧꒰ა “It would make you more human,” you said simply.

˚₊‧꒰ა That response seemed to catch him off guard. His smile faltered for the briefest moment before he recovered. “Ah, but aren’t we all striving to rise above our baser instincts? Isn’t that what it means to be a Shinigami?”

˚₊‧꒰ა You didn’t miss the irony in his words. He spoke of control, of discipline, but there was a glint in his eyes that suggested something far more dangerous beneath the surface.

˚₊‧꒰ა Over time, your interactions became a dance of sorts. A careful balancing act where neither of you showed your full hand. He’d make a remark, and you’d deflect. He’d offer a compliment; you’d question the intent behind it. It was a game, and you both knew it.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You know,” he said one day, as the two of you stood on the balcony overlooking the Seireitei, “I admire your caution. It’s rare to find someone who doesn’t take things at face value.”

˚₊‧꒰ა “Is that so?” you replied, not bothering to hide the scepticism in your voice.

˚₊‧꒰ა He smiled again, that same enigmatic smile that never quite reached his eyes. “Indeed. It’s…refreshing.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite your reservations, you couldn’t deny that Aizen was fascinating. There was something undeniably enigmatic about him, something that drew people in despite themselves. But you refused to be one of those people. You refused to let yourself be lulled into a false sense of security.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Do you ever wonder why people are so quick to trust?” he asked one day, his tone almost philosophical. “Why do they cling to the idea of certainty, even when it’s an illusion?”

˚₊‧꒰ა “Because it’s easier,” you replied. “It’s easier to believe in someone than to question everything they say.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He nodded as if he’d expected that answer. “And you? You prefer the harder path?”

˚₊‧꒰ა “I prefer the truth,” you said firmly.

˚₊‧꒰ა His gaze lingered on you for a long moment, and you could see the gears turning in his mind. He was calculating, always calculating, but you never gave him the satisfaction of knowing what you were thinking.

˚₊‧꒰ა There were moments when you wondered if he found your scepticism amusing, or if it frustrated him. Perhaps it was both. After all, he was used to people falling in line, to people believing in his carefully crafted persona. But you? You saw through the cracks.

˚₊‧꒰ა “It must be exhausting,” he mused one day, “to always be so guarded.”

˚₊‧꒰ა “It must be exhausting,” you countered, “to always wear a mask.”

˚₊‧꒰ა That made him pause, and for the briefest moment, you saw something shift in his expression. But then the mask was back in place, and he offered you another one of his enigmatic smiles. “Touché.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite everything, you couldn’t deny that there was a strange sort of mutual respect between you. He recognised your intelligence, your unwillingness to be swayed. And you recognised the danger lurking beneath his polished exterior.

˚₊‧꒰ა In another life, you might have trusted him. You might have even admired him. But in this life, you knew better. Aizen Sousuke was a man of many layers, and you had no intention of peeling them back only to find yourself ensnared in his web.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You’ll never trust me, will you?” he asked one day, his tone almost wistful.

˚₊‧꒰ა “No,” you said without hesitation. “But I’ll respect you for what you are.”

˚₊‧꒰ა His smile that day was different. Softer, more genuine. But you knew better than to believe it was real. Because with Aizen, nothing ever was.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @stygianoir @edensrose

©satsugacafé: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Handle With Care 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your work blurs the lines between professional and personal.

Note: I’m on a Bucky kick and can’t stop myself.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Bucky sighs and shifts in the seat, trying to see past the clog of traffic. He sits back heavily, enough to jolt the entire car. You glance at him as you steer away from the bottle neck.

"We're not going in the front, are we?" He smooths his hair and furrows his brow.

"Not unless you want cameras in your face," you pull into an underground lot and roll down your window to swipe your card in the fee machine.

"Mm, exactly my point," he brushes his palms over his stubble. You can hear the bristle.

"Look, we're both just trying to get through this. For Wilson." You slowly roll through and look for a spot.

"He doesn't need me--"

"Stop saying that," you snip. "You wouldn't be here if that was true. I didn't exactly wake up thinking I'd be crawling through your window."

"No one asked you to."

You veer into a spot and slam on the brake. "Actually, Barnes, he asked me to. That's why I did it, so let's cut the lone wolf schtick and grind our teeth through the pomp and ceremony."

He grumbles. You shift into park and kill the engine. You take a deep breath and search for your zen. He's undoing a lot of self-work right now. You undo your seat belt and get out. He mirrors you with reluctance.

"We'll circle around and head in through the rear," you shut the door and stomp in your heels, clasping your bag tightly as you check the time.

"Yes, Captain," he says sardonically.

"No, he's inside, waiting," you return.

He's quiet as he follows you. You don't fail to notice the looks he gets. You can't blame him for not appreciating prying eyes. Still, it's the least he can do for Sam. Just this once.

As you get around to the back doors, past the fervour and rush of attendees, he catches up to you. There's a man in a uniform keeping watch. You wave as you approach.

"Tito," you smile.

"Huh..." he squints at you as his burly arms tense in his jacket. "Oh, it's you? I didn't recognise you in that... thing."

You glance down at your dress, "special occasion."

"Mm, right."

"Come on, Tito, I got clearance," you argue.

"No one's in the back but personnel."

"I am personnel. Didn't I disarm that bomb way back--"

"Hmmm," he looks past you at Bucky. "Hey, it's you."

Bucky growls and shuffles closer.

"Look, my friend here is having a rough day. The front is a circus, please, Ti?"

"You still owe me that drink," he nibbles his lip.

You chuckle, "I got a flask--" You show him your clutch.

He laughs. "You know what I mean."

"I told ya I would. I'm a busy gal," you fend him off. "So, pretty please, Tito?"

He rolls his eyes and reaches for his belt. He scans his card and opens the door. You wobble through hurriedly and Bucky drags his feet. He follows you down the hall.

"You know a lot of people," he mutters.

"Some. My work takes me all around. Just like yours."

"Sure," he sniffs.

You slow as you hear noise. You'd rather not make a whole round of small talk. You grab Bucky's sleeve and drag him down a long hall.

"Where are we going?"

"Stage door. We can sneak down the stairs," you explain.

"Won't someone be watching?"

"Sure, and I'll get us through," you assure him. "Just like I've done everything else."

He sucks his teeth, "you're mad."

"I'm not mad, Barnes," you let him go. "Trust me, you would know if I was."

You meet another guard along the way. She stops you and asks for credentials. As you try to search out a suitable way past, she looks past you.

"Wait, oh, I know you," she points at Bucky, "no problem, go right through."

"Know me?" Bucky utters.

"The Winter Soldier," she bubbles. "Sure thing. Go on. Say hi to Cap for me."

He moves stiffly ahead of you and you follow. His metal fingers fidget at his side. You can tell he's uncomfortable. Hell, you are too.

You come out through the stage door and quickly snake around the distracted honorees and presenters, the crew scurrying around like ants in a hill. You get Bucky down the stairs and find the seats reserved for you. 'Guest of S. Wilson.' You sit and he does too.

He sets his feet wide and rests his hands on his thighs. His fingers rub up and down the fabric restlessly. You put your phone on silent and put it in your clutch. You wiggle in the stiff seat and crane to see the doors as guests slowly trickle in.

You peek at Bucky. His jaw is squared, his eyes are unfocused, he stares at the curtains over the stage. You know it's a lot for him. You realise that he's not doing this on purpose.

People line the seats behind you and around you. Their voices break the tenuous calm. You greet a few that are familiar but otherwise bide your time.

When at last the ceremony begins and the lights dim for the brighter ones over the stage, Bucky coughs and you can feel him jittering. His leg is bouncing and he's picking at the edge of his jacket. The host goes through their whole intro as his fidgeting intensifies. The sudden blast of horns makes him jump.

You reach over and put your hand on his. He locks up and squeezes your fingers, so tight he might crack your knuckles. You lean against him gently.

"Barnes, you're doing good," you say.

He doesn't respond. You don't expect him to. He's entirely still. You know he's not there anymore. You bring your other hand over his and rub his knuckles. You'll get him through this just like Lagos.