#and then I’m just… remembers scooping and how about no?

[michaels-office-hours]

What if instead of putting the blorbo in situations? Like… I know the horror scrunklies are fun and all… but…

What if the situation was blorboless? No blorbo for situations. They’re free now. And safe. They have blankie.

Different situation for blorbo. A safe one. Where I give them love and affection.

[obsesssedblerd]

Part Four (2): “I promise, I’ll make this right.” 

- the jjk men promising to be a better partner for you after they forget your anniversary. 

final [second] written part of this smau series. 

Pt. 2: Choso, Shiu, and Gojo

Contains: angst to comfort 

a/n: and here’s the last, last part with the remaining characters! again, thank you so much for being so patient! <3 once again, sorry for any mistakes! 

---

CHOSO 

Truthfully, you didn’t know if you were actually ready to confront Choso, but you know that it’s time. You stand in front of the door to his house, and knock. You wait for less than a minute, then the door opens to reveal Yuuji on the other side, rubbing his tired eyes. His pink hair was messy, so you know that he woke up from a nap not too long ago. 

When he registers that it’s you, he gasps loudly, then holds up a hand and smiles nervously. “H-Hi! Um, wait just a minute, I’ll grab him! Please don’t leave this spot.” 

“I won’t leave, Yuuji.” 

His smile falters a bit. “No, seriously, please don’t. Me, Cho, and Megumi couldn’t find you for days.”

You place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I promise,” you say slowly, “I won’t leave.” 

“Good. Be right back.” He gives you a thumbs up, closes the door, and you hear him scream from behind it, “Choso!! CHOSO!!! She’s outside, so stop blasting your sad music and get down these damn stairs!! No, I’m not kidding, why would I do that?!” 

You blink in shock, then Yuuji opens the door once more to smile sweetly at you. “He’ll be out in just a moment.” 

“Uh- Alright, thanks.” 

Not too long after, Choso appears. You can immediately tell that he hasn’t been sleeping much the last few days. Other than that, he looks relieved to see you there. He reaches towards you to hug you, then stops himself, remembering the situation. “Hi,” he quietly greets. 

“Hi. Walk with me?” He nods, and you two walk side-by-side to a nearby park. You let the silence drag for only a few minutes before you ask him the question that’s been weighing on you for the last couple of days. 

“Be honest. Before we got together, did you want to date Yuki at one point?” 

Are you only with me because you weren’t able to get with her? 

Choso stops in his tracks, and looks over at you, eyes blown wide with shock. “No. Never. We’re just friends, like I’ve told you before. I know it seems like-” 

You hold up a hand. “Cho, please just understand where I’m coming from. The-” 

“I do understand,” he says desperately, taking a step closer to you. “Of course I do. That's all I’ve been thinking about. I chose to hang out with her instead of you, numerous times. It’s unfair to you, I know, but I swear-”

“I feel like you love her.” Your biggest fear of your relationship flies out your mouth, and tears rush to your eyes, spilling down your cheeks. “Every single time, it’s her. It feels like it won’t matter how special something is—like our anniversary—because you’ll run to her the second she asks you to hang out and completely forget about me.” You take a breath and exhale slowly, trying not to make yourself look even more pathetic. “I’m tired, Cho.” 

“Listen to me. I do not love Yuki,” Choso says slowly. “Not now, not in secret, not ever. I am in love with you. You’re the one I want to wake up next to every morning, you’re the only one I trust when it comes to helping my siblings, and you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.” He scoops your hand into his. “There’s no way in hell that I would choose her or any other woman over you, so I’m begging you, please get that out of your head.”

Before you can use a sleeve to wipe your tears, he wipes them for you, then uses his hand to cup your cheek. “I’m so sorry for hurting you. You spent so long planning the dinner for our anniversary and I completely forgot about it like it was nothing. I wish I could go back in time, but I can’t. All I can do is beg for another chance to be a better boyfriend. So, please, let me have another chance.”

You notice that his eyes are also watery. You’re about to point it out, but he hugs you tightly before you can, his body slightly trembling. “These last few days have been killing me, because I’ve messed up so bad to the point where you think I’m in love with another woman, when you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met in my  life. I don’t want anyone but you. I could never choose anyone over you. I don’t care who they are.” 

He rubs a comforting hand up and down your back. “Please,” he repeats once more. 

“Never again, Choso,” you mutter shakily. “I mean it.” 

He sighs in relief, then kisses you. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Walk back with me? I have your present back at the house. Then, we can plan another dinner, and something special after that.” 

---

SHIU

When you enter the hotel room, you see Shiu Kong there, leaning in the chair with a light, but nervous smile. “Hey, princess.” 

The door shuts, and you furrow your brows in confusion. “How the fuck did you get in here?” 

“Well, you weren’t answering your phone anymore, so I found a different way to track you.”

Your brain whirrs with multiple possible scenarios, then you roll your eyes when you figure it out. “You asked Toji, didn’t you?” Your work partner was the only one who knew your location.

“I had to blackmail him in order to find out where you were. It wasn’t easy.” 

You give him a fake smile. “Well, I don’t really care about that. You should leave.” 

“No.” 

“Shiu. Don’t piss me off,” you warn. “Go.”

“Not until we talk.” 

You cross your arms. “It’s either you leave, or I will handle you the same way I’d handle any person that comes into my room without my knowledge or permission.”

Shiu holds his hands up. “I’ll let you shoot me after I apologize.” 

“You’ve already apologized plenty over text. I already told you that I’m done. I’m better off focusing on work, and you’re better off just hanging out with your friends.” 

“Can you stop saying that shit? Baby, please, I swear that missing our anniversary dinner was a horrible mistake, and I’ll never make it again if you give me another chance.” When you don’t answer, he sighs desperately, taking a chance with his life and walking over to where you’re standing. “I’m sorry, princess. I completely understand why you’re pissed, and like I said, I’d let you shoot me if it’ll make you feel better. However, I will say that I can’t let you go. I love you.” 

You shut your eyes and shake your head. “Look, that’s sweet and all, but I don’t think you understand how awful it is knowing that your boyfriend chose a random night of drinking with his friends over a romantic dinner that you spent weeks planning. It makes it hard to believe that you even like me, let alone love me.” 

“I understand why you’re doubting my feelings for you. Anyone would after their lover forgets their anniversary. But I promise, I do love you, and if you give me another chance, I’ll show you. I’ll make you feel it. Please give me a chance to fix this.” 

“...But what if you don’t?” 

“Then I’ll let you kill me, like you’ve killed your other boyfriend after he fucked up and broke your heart.” When you raise your brow in question, he answers you, “Toji told me about that when he warned me to leave you alone earlier. Not taking his side at all. Heard he was an asshole, anyway. But, I’m serious. If I don’t do better, and I hurt you again, I won’t run or fight back when you come to kill me.” 

“Shiu, I don’t want to kill you,” you say, slightly frustrated. “I just want you to care more.” 

His thumb brushes underneath your eyes. You didn’t even know that you started crying. “I know, princess, ‘m so sorry. I promise, I’ll never make you cry again, and I’ll be better.” He’s relieved when you allow him to hug you. “Come home, okay? We’ll talk more there, and then I’ll start making this up to you.”

You nod, then rest your head on his shoulder. “You do know that Toji’s more than likely going to kick your ass for blackmailing him, right?” 

“You’re in my arms again, so it was worth it.”

---

GOJO

You’re speeding through the hallways of Jujutsu Tech, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. An hour ago, you got a text from Maki, your precious second-year student, telling you that something bad happened and that you need to come to the school quickly. 

“Maki, I’m here! Are you okay?!” You shout as you burst into the empty classroom. You find her, and you tilt your head in confusion. 

She looks fine. In fact, she’s standing next to a Yuuta Okkotsu, who looks like he’s about to vomit. “S-Sensei! I-” 

Maki cuts him off with her usual, sharp glare. “Not. A. Word.”

Inumaki and Panda are also there, and across the room, the three first years are standing stiffly. 

Something’s up. 

“Okay,” you say to the students as you cross your arms. “What on earth is going on?” 

Nobara looks over at Yuuji, who’s sweating nervously, and raises a brow. “Um… Haha,” he laughs, scratching the back of his head. “Don’t look at me like that, Kugisaki. H-He should be here any second, I swear!” 

He? 

Suddenly, Satoru Gojo teleports in. “What’s going on?” He asks as he looks over at the students. “I didn’t see a threat outside of the school. Yuuji said something bad happened?” 

“Great!” Nobara claps her hands together. “You’re both here!” 

Satoru goes quiet, and you raise an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah?” 

Maki points to you and Satoru. “You two need to talk.” 

“...Sorry?” 

“You two need to talk!” Nobara repeats Maki’s words. “Listen, we can’t stand having our two favorite teachers separated like this. [Y/L/N]-sensei has been gone for days!” 

“Plus, Gojo-sensei, you’ve been super stressed!” Yuuji shouts in defense. “Fushiguro says that you eat a lot more sweets when you’re stressed. You ate two packs of those mini cupcakes, plus the brownie that Nanamin gave me!” 

When Satoru looks over at Yuuta, he throws his hands up. “No, no, please don’t look at me like that! I voted against this! I said that w-we should probably give you two some space to figure it-” Inumaki slaps a hand over his mouth. 

“We’re just… worried,” Megumi mumbles. 

“Yup!” Panda shouts. “Very worried, and that’s why we came up with a plan to get you two back on track. We’re going to lock you two in this room, and you’re not coming out until you’re happy and in love again!” 

“Because you two are supposed to be together forever and get married and invite us to the wedding!” Yuuji pouts, and the rest of the students voice their agreements. 

You can’t believe it. They set you up. Your mouth falls open in shock, and the students all walk outside of the classroom. Maki and Nobara are the last ones out, and they both glare at Satoru. “Geto-sensei said that you missed your anniversary dinner,” Nobara hisses. “You better give her the most amazing, romantic and extravagant dinner after this, or we will deal with you!” 

Behind Nobara, Yuuta chuckles nervously. “...Pretty sure that you won’t be able to get past his infinity-” 

“Shut up, Okkotsu!” The rest of the students shout, then the door shuts and locks with a loud click. You drag a hand down your face, then scoff. Great.

“Wow, they’re really something,” Satoru chuckles, but when you don’t say anything, he turns to face you, his expression serious, even with his usual blindfold on. “Say the word, and I’ll teleport you out of here. Then, I’ll talk to them.” 

“No, it’s okay,” you say quietly as you sit in one of the empty chairs. “We can talk.” 

As you look around the classroom, a few memories from the year before came back. “Wait, this is the classroom where we met, isn’t it?” 

“Looks like it,” Satoru says as he leans against the wall, smiling softly. “Zen’in, Panda, Inumaki, and Okkotsu were first years. You were standing right here. Your first day as a transfer, and you were already teaching these kids as professionals.” 

“Yeah.” You stifle a laugh. “You stayed for the entire lesson, even though you had a meeting with the higher-ups. Suguru and Yaga had to practically drag you out of here so you wouldn’t spend another hour flirting.” 

“They were pissed, but it was worth it. Our newest team member is just so pretty,” he says, then reaches for your hand, your thumb lovingly brushing against yours as his voice dips lower. “The most beautiful woman that my six eyes have ever seen.” 

It’s a nice memory, but when you remember everything else, your smile falters. Satoru sighs, “I’m so sorry, pretty girl. Not just forgetting the annivesary dinner that you planned, but also for leaving you hanging. I don’t blame you for disappearing for a few days. If I were in your shoes, I would’ve been upset, too. I really don’t have an excuse. That was just… wrong.” 

“I appreciate that, Toru, but… are you sure that this even works? All of the chasing, the begging to spend just a few hours together, it’s draining. I know you’re the strongest sorcerer-” 

“You matter more than that,” he says firmly. “So much more than that. If it came down to choosing between you or being the strongest, I’m choosing you in an instant. I meant it when I said that I’d let Toji Fushiguro kill me again before letting you go.” You wince when you remember the gruesome details of that story, but don’t interrupt. “I made a horrible mistake by forgetting that date. I can’t imagine how awful it was sitting at the restaurant all alone. I’m so sorry. I don’t care how long it’ll take to make this up, I’ll prove that you mean the world to me.” 

You consider his words. While you’re still a bit hurt about being forgotten, you miss your boyfriend, and you do believe that he’ll make it up to you, despite you being a bit hesitant. “One more chance, Satoru,” you tell him. “Don’t ever do this to me again.” 

“I won’t. I promise,” he says, lifting his blindfold to reveal the gorgeous, cerulean eyes that you love so much. “You won’t regret this.” When you reach for him, he lowers his infinity fully to let you hug him, a long exhale leaving your body when you’re suddenly wrapped in his arms and his scent. “I missed you,” he whispers to you. “I was so worried. I couldn’t find you.”

“Didn’t mean to worry you.” 

He kisses your cheek, then pulls away from you. “Okay, time to go.” 

“Go where?” 

Satoru chuckles. “I owe you an amazing, romantic, and extravagant dinner, otherwise my students will find a way to kill me. Plus, we’re going to be disappearing for a while. I got a trip planned. Flight leaves early in the morning.”

You gasp. “What?! But what about work? Or the students? Or the-” 

He interrupts you with a feather-light kiss against your lips. “All taken care of, pretty girl,” he purrs. “Just let me make this up to you, okay?” 

“Alright, but first you need to apologize to the students for wreaking havoc while you were stressed, and buy Yuuji a new brownie.” 

[gojonanami]

BIRTHDAY WISHES — S. GOJO

content: fluff, gojo baking you a cake, silliness, cuddles, fluff, breeding, my birthday gift to all of you

“What are you doing?”

Satoru looks up, face and apron covered in flour, several open containers from jars to boxes spread out on the counter, and a large mixing bowl sat in front of him. He had a heap of sugar in a measuring cup that he was about to pour in.

“Oh, just baking,” you raise an eyebrow with a snort, walking over, as you thumb away the flour on his cheek.

“I see most of it ended up on your face instead of your stomach,” and he pouts, wiping his face, but only smearing it further on his face, “why are you up so early?”

“I can’t wake up early now?” And you watch him dump sugar into the bowl. And you raise an eyebrow, as you watch him glance at his phone, turning his body to block your view, “shouldn’t you get some more rest, sweets? You just got back from your mission,”

“Mm,” you hug him from behind, burying your face in his luckily un-floured back, “but I’m missing my pillow,” and you feel the chuckle rumble against you, “and I should be telling you that. I know you’re always to bed later than I am,”

“I told you I would do your paperwork for you and I did, because I am the best husband,” you smiled, nuzzling into the soft planes of his back — you still couldn’t believe someone so strong could also be this soft, “you had Shoko check you?”

“Clean bill of health, just a headache, but she said that’s normal with time dilation curses,” you smiled, as he started to mix the bowl, even with you wrapped around his back, “but she prescribed cuddles in bed, and for you to get back to it,”

You can hear the grin on his lips as he speaks, “Oh? I don’t remember her mentioning ‘cuddling’ as a cure to anything,” you lean up kissing his neck, fingers tracing along his undercut, and you feel the slight shiver that sneaks down your husband’s body — and you love it. You love how this man, the pinnacle of strength can be bent by your will, and he would do it again and again for you, “sweetheart—“ he whines.

“Please?” And he sighs, as he covers his bowl, wiping off his hands on his apron, before pulling it off, but he was forgetting one thing, “Toru, your face?” Flour and batter still caked on, but his lips only curled, as you only could manage a half step back, before he’s catching you by the wrists.

“Aw c’mon, wifey, in sickness and health right?” And you’re squirming, giggling as he tries to draw closer to you with flour and batter all over.

“I don’t remember messes being a part of that,” you squeal, but he’s scooping you into his arms, “Toru! No—“ but he’s muffling you with a kiss, and you’re gasping as he makes sure to tilt and twist his head, before kissing down your jaw to make sure you were covered too.

“And now we’re matching,” and you’re pouting at him, trying to break from his grip, but he’s already tossed you onto the bed. He grabs a towel from your bathroom, dampening it before wiping your face and then his own. He tossed it into the hamper, a smile on his lips as he cuddles up behind you, “just what the doctor ordered right?”

And you turn your head and kiss him softly, “right.”

~~~

And now it was the second time you woke up alone in your bedroom.

You check the time and see it’s almost noon, a sigh on your lips as you stretch your body, muscles in knots still, as you slip out of bed.

You find your way out and into the kitchen only to snort again.

“Put the icing down,” and your husband freezes, piping bag in hand, as he turns, careful to maneuver his body to block what he was working on, "what are you doing?"

"Sweets, shouldn't you be sleeping--" and you're stepping forward, trying to crane your neck to see, "no! I have my delicates out--"

"And you're using frosting on them?" and he's pouting, hands on your shoulders, "Toru, why are you acting so weird?"

He sighs, head hanging, as he finally steps aside to show what he's been working on.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

You furrow your brow, thinking about the date, "who's birthday is it?" Satoru flicks your forehead lightly, "ow!"

He's chuckling, as you rub your forehead, "Well, who's the only other person here besides your wonderful, thoughtful husband?"

"But my birthday--" and then you check your phone, the date of your birthday staring back at you, "how--" and then it dawns on you, "the curse, it screwed with my sense of time, I completely mixed up what date it was,"

He wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on top of your head, "You may forget, wifey, but I'll never forget my favorite day of the year,"

You smile, "Your favorite day?" and he hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"The day the best person was born to ever exist was born," and you laugh.

"And I thought that was you," and he's clicking his tongue.

"No, I was born only to worship at your feet, humbly of course," and your lips curl, as he murmurs against your ear, "can your humble servant finish the cake, oh beautiful goddess?"

"Of course,"

And now you're sat in the living room, eyes closed and covered by your hands at Satoru's insistence, "Toru? Do you need help?"

"Just a second, you can't rush perfection, sweetheart," and you can hear him puttering around the kitchen, drawers opening and closing.

"But I'm rushing you," you tease, a smile on your lips, "the lighter is in the far left drawer,"

You can imagine the pout on his lips, "I'll let that comment slide for now," and you hear the click of the lighter, and you hear his footsteps finally approach, "you can open your eyes,"

And you do to find the lights dimmed and Satoru holding a somewhat messily made cake with your name now written on it, his sweet grin illuminated by the glow of the candles.

"Happy birthday to you," he sings softly, "Happy birthday to you," and he's stepping forward, setting the cake in front of you, "Happy birthday, my lovely wife," and you can't stop smiling, "Happy birthday to you," and you grin, covering your lips, "uh-uh, you can't blow out the candles like that, sweetheart,"

"What do I wish for when I have everything I want right here?" you pull him close, your lips finding his, "I love you," and he kisses you again, fingers cupping your cheek.

You blow out the candles, as he smiles up at you, "Not as much as I love you."

~~~

"What did you wish for anyway?" he hands you a piece of the cut cake, as you pick up some frosting with the fork.

"I'm not supposed to say, it's a secret, buuuut,” you lean and whisper, “I really want a baby,” and you hear his breath hitch, lips parting, as he looks at you, a hunger in his gaze, before you smear frosting down his cheek.

“HUH?” And you’re giggling and running to the bedroom, “sweetheart—“ and then he’s hit with your t-shirt and shorts in the face.

“I wasn’t kidding!” And he tosses the clothes away, grin on his face as he’s taking off his shirt.

“Your wish is my command.”

And he wouldn’t let you leave bed until he was sure he had bred you well.

[frudoo]

I need the 141 as a group of slashers. Their shared wife gets harassed at the store and tells them when she gets home?

Might send more asks for slasher 141 if that's okay

You can ALWAYS send me slasher!141 ideas are you joking?!

Warnings: Mentions of sexual harassment (NOT by the 141), typical mentions of weapons and violence. Fem!Reader.

It’s pouring down freezing rain, the cold seemingly nudging past your skin and settling itself into your bones. Your hands shake as you fumble with your keys, letting out a defeated wail when you miss the lock for the fifth fucking time. Throwing your keys in your purse, you settle for knocking, then calling out that it’s just you. You’d rather not have one of your lovers answering the door with a machete to your throat. They always have had a flair for the dramatic. 

     It’s John who answers the door. Immediately he takes in your shivering figure and his bushy eyebrows furrow with concern. Scanning the vast land of the farm and finding nothing that could be perceived as a threat, he gently takes the purse from your hands. Strong arms hustle you inside and he kicks the door shut, working quickly to get you out of your sopping wet clothes. 

     “Darlin’, what happened? Why’re you cryin’?” John asks softly, hanging your coat on the rack—he can tell it’s bad by the way you flinch just from the question. 

     Simon, Johnny, and Kyle trail into the living room to greet you, but when they see your state, it’s like you can feel the tension in the air, ready to snap like a weathered rubber band. Simon comes to scoop you up, uncaring of the drenched clothes you still have on, and carries you up the stairs. He jerks his head to signal that everyone else should follow him. 

     While Kyle runs you a bath, John finishes undressing you, tossing your clothing into the hamper with a wet plop. You’re still shivering, tears streaming down your chilly cheeks, and it breaks their hearts. John cups your face in his big, warm hands, crystal blue eyes scanning for injuries or any reason you might be so spooked. 

     “You gonna answer my question, sweetheart? What’s happened?” 

     His voice is soothing, and you lean into the comfort of his touch. He always has been the best at calming you down, rich gravel filling your ears until you remember how cherished you are in his eyes. In all of their eyes. 

     “T-there was a man,” you stutter, head whipping around violently with your fist raised when Johnny wraps an arm around your waist to help you into the bath. “No!”

     “Hey, hey, jus’ me, hen,” Johnny’s eyes widen as he throws his hands up in surrender, backing away to avoid getting hit. 

     “I’m sorry,” you weep, covering your face with your trembling hands as Johnny tries again, this time successful in getting you settled into the warm water. 

     “Wha’ did he do?” Simon’s raspy voice sounds from the corner of the room, eerily calm. “Wha’ did tha’ fucker do?” 

     “The man… I-I was at the store to get groceries, but there was- he… he grabbed my ass and my tits and f-followed me out to the car. I drove away really fast so he couldn’t come after me, but… I’m sorry, I didn’t get the groceries.”

     “Oh, sweetheart,” Kyle frowns, gently reaching out to grab a hold of one of your hands. “The fuckin’ groceries are the least of our concerns.”

     You nod noncommittally, sniffling and just barely squeezing Kyle’s hand to let him know you appreciate the gesture. John’s jaw is clenched tight, and you can practically hear the rage brewing in his brain. Such a sweet thing traumatized by some stupid fuck who wanted his hands full of their soft, perfect girl. He wants—needs—to make him pay. John turns on his heel and just about rushes through the door, but your gentle voice stops him in his tracks.

     “John? Please stay,” you beg so, so prettily, pouty lips still swollen from how hard you’d been crying, and John’s far too weak a man to deny you. 

     Hesitantly, the captain trails back inside the bathroom, giving the other three a curt nod. They understand instantly, and Simon is cracking his knuckles so loud you’re almost sure the city can hear it. 

     “Bring the bastard back alive,” John commands, and faster than you can blink, Kyle, Simon, and Johnny are out the door.

     “I’m sorry,” you whisper, eyes focused on the ripple of the bathwater when you submerge your hands.

     John shakes his head, tilting your chin up so that you look him in the eye. He leans forward and nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours, a silent question. When you nod he leans in to kiss you long and slow, pressing his forehead against yours as the two of you stop to catch a breath.

     “No need to be sorry, sweet girl. You’ll get a turn on him soon enough.”

[luvjunie]

— headcanons. miles morales (earth1610)

MILES who somehow managed to pick you up with that corny little shoulder touch his Uncle Aaron taught him. Not because it actually worked and left you smitten and head over heels for him—but because in that moment, the dorky boy who stood in front of you had made you laugh so hard you’d nearly peed yourself. There was no way that with a sense of humor like his, he wasn’t getting your number.

MILES who has never missed a good morning or a goodnight text. While often they may not always be at the most ideal times, it’s the fact that he remembered that means the most to you. Even if he’s running late to school, shoes untied, and shirt buttoned unevenly as he bundles out the door of his dorm, he insists he can text and run to class at the same time. And at night, even if his eyelids feel as if they weigh a ton the minute his back finally hits his mattress after webbing the villain of the week to a light pole for the cops, he refuses to fall asleep without telling you he loves you first— though the message may include a few sleepy typos. “Goodnihgt aby i lov youuu” “shitno i meant baby not aby”

MILES who hand draws a card for you when the monthly anniversary of your relationship rolls by. Each one of them is different and creative in their own way and you’re always excited to see what it’ll look like this time. He’ll swiftly swing by your fire escape on his way to patrol, drop a box of chocolates, your favorite candy, or a bouquet of flowers on the steel metal along with the card, then switch arms and thwip another web to the next building in the same breath.

MILES who loves to draw you, especially when the two of you haven’t been able to hang out in a while, just so he can reminisce and pretend like you’re there, in his room with him. His sketchbook is filled with pictures of you, hearts usually adorning whatever space is left blank on the paper. He sees you in such a different light than you view yourself in, and he’s able to capture certain aspects of your features that you hadn’t even noticed before. He was so embarrassed the first time you saw his sketchbook laid open on his bed and tried to hide them from you, nervous he’d make you uncomfortable in any way. But you were nothing short of flattered, and reassured him of such by smattering kisses onto the expanse his flushed face and telling him how much of a sweetheart he was.

MILES who falls asleep in the span of two seconds. Usually when you can’t come over, you settle for long facetime calls so you can tell each other about your days, or watch a movie together. But he’s just so comfortable around you, and your voice is so calming, like a lullaby, so much so that he can’t help it when he falls asleep halfway into your rundown of events. After five minutes of silence, which is unheard of for a kid like Miles who is always filled with endless quips and jokes, you’ll scoop your phone off your bed only to see his ivory-colored ceiling instead of his face.

“Milesss!” You whine, the sudden sound of shuffling from the other end of the line erupting through your speakers as he frantically scoops his phone back up from his pillow, his sleepy face shifting back into view.

“Huh?” He mumbles, clearing his throat as he blinks the sleep from his eyes.

“You fell asleep in the middle of my story again.” You accuse.

“Nuh uh! I’ve been awake this whole time. I’m just a really, really good listener, m-hm. I am a wonderful and completely-awake, professional listener.” He nods, gifting you his signature goofy smile that‘s always a reminder that you can never be mad at him for long.

MILES who loves taking you to the new places he’s able to go around the city now that he’s Spiderman.

When you found out your boyfriend was Spiderman, you were in such disbelief that you immediately asked for proof, for him to show you anything that proved he was spiderman other than a suit and a mask. And proof you got, if the powerful gusts of wind in your face as he swung the two of you with web after web over the skyline of the city were anything to go by.

You were terrified the first time, legs glued around his waist and arms clamped so tightly around his neck that there was no way you’d fall. He would never in a million years let you slip from his grasp anyways, but if you did, you were damn sure taking him with you. He kept one arm around your waist for support and laughed at how you hollered almost the entire way to the clock tower, and whether they were screams of excitement or terror, he didn’t know.

It was beyond exhilarating, seeing the city from above with him, standing on the roofs of buildings you never imagined you’d reach. It had your heart pumping faster than you thought it ever could and your trust in him solidifying even further, and soon you found yourself asking him take you again, and again. And Miles would take you anywhere you wanted to go; open to doing anything just to see a smile on your face and to have you holding onto him like that again.

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to any other platforms

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗

[sadnymi]

HIYA,

I js wanted to ask if you could write a short oneshot about lazy tired sex with Mattheo after a long exhausting day? Like in the bathtub or in bed?

U don’t need to, this just has been on my mind for a long time

Thx pretty woman😋

Mattheo Riddle x reader

Warnings: smut , strong language - fluff.

The day had been nothing short of chaotic. Interviews, Quidditch practice, and the whirlwind that followed Mattheo everywhere had drained every ounce of energy from your body. By the time you stumbled back into his dorm, both of you were running on fumes.

You barely managed to kick off your shoes before collapsing onto the bed, limbs feeling like lead. Mattheo followed suit, dropping onto the bed beside you, his usual smirk replaced by a rare, tired smile.

"Merlin, we’re a mess," he muttered, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

You rolled onto your side to face him, eyelids heavy but unable to resist the pull he had over you. "Speak for yourself," you teased, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed how worn out you truly were.

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and lazy, matching the atmosphere. "You’re right, baby. I’m an absolute disaster," he replied, his hand finding its way to your waist, pulling you closer. "But you—you're perfect, even when you’re dead tired."

His lips brushed against your forehead, and you felt the warmth of his breath against your skin. Despite the exhaustion weighing you down, the magnetic pull between you was impossible to ignore.

You felt his fingers trailing up and down your side, sending tingles across your skin. "Mattheo," you whispered, the sound barely escaping your lips, but he heard it. He always did.

"Mhm?" he hummed, his mouth now moving to your neck, pressing slow, lazy kisses that made your pulse quicken.

"I don’t think I have the energy for this," you admitted, though you didn’t make any move to stop him.

A sly smile curved his lips as he gazed at you. “That’s alright, sweetheart. Just let me take care of you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. Before you could respond, he was scooping you up into his arms, his strength effortlessly lifting you from the bed.

“Mattheo—” you started, but he silenced you with a quick kiss, his lips brushing against yours with a teasing softness.

“Shhh, love. You’re too tired, remember? Just let me handle everything,” he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief. As he carried you toward the bathroom, he continued in a low, sultry tone, “Can’t have my girl doing all the work, now can we? I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of.”

You felt your cheeks flush, your breath hitching as he set you down on the edge of the tub. The water was already steaming, filling the room with a soothing warmth. Mattheo’s hands were quick to undress you, his touch reverent yet teasing, as if savoring every second.

"Get in," he ordered softly, helping you slide into the water. The heat enveloped you, easing the tension in your muscles. You leaned back, watching as Mattheo undressed, his eyes never leaving yours.

When he joined you in the tub, he pulled you against his chest, his hands roaming your body with a slow, deliberate pace. "You feel so good," he murmured, his lips ghosting over your ear. "So soft, so perfect."

Your breath hitched as his hand slid between your legs, fingers grazing over you with a featherlight touch that made you shiver. "Mattheo… please," you begged, your voice barely a whisper.

His lips curled into a smirk against your neck, his fingers continuing their slow, torturous movements. "Please what, darling?" he teased, his voice dark and silky. "Use your words. Tell me what you want."

"I want you," you breathed, your body trembling with need. "Please, Mattheo… I need you."

"You get me baby," he murmured, as he finally slipped inside you, drawing out a soft moan. "Always so sweet, always so eager for me."

His pace was slow, deliberate, matching the lazy, tired rhythm of your bodies. But there was nothing lazy about the way he touched you, every movement precise, every word dripping with heat. He kept whispering praises in your ear, his voice a constant murmur of affection and desire. "You’re heaven, baby. Watching you fall apart like this… it’s fucking heaven."

You were lost in him, your exhaustion forgotten as he took you higher and higher, every touch, every kiss pushing you closer to the edge. And when you finally came, your body trembling in his arms, you heard him whisper against your skin, "That’s it, love. That’s my heaven."

As the waves of pleasure washed over you, you felt his arms tighten around you, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "You’re mine," he whispered, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine. "Always mine."

"Always," you whispered back, your hand resting on his chest.

Your body felt completely spent, your limbs heavy and your mind wrapped in a warm haze. Mattheo was gentle as he helped you out of the tub, his hands steadying you as you stood on shaky legs.

He reached for a towel, wrapping it around you, his touch soft and caring as he dried you off. The warmth of the bath lingered on your skin, but it was the warmth of his hands that you craved, the way he treated you like something precious. With each stroke of the towel, he was meticulous yet tender, drying you as if you were the most delicate thing in the world.

"Stay still for me, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice soft, the earlier edge of desire replaced with a soothing calm. You obeyed, too tired to do anything else, too content to want to.

Once you were dry, he pulled his shirt over your head, the fabric soft and smelling of him. It was oversized, falling past your thighs, enveloping you in his scent. You sighed in contentment, feeling safe, protected.

He smiled at the sight of you in his shirt, his eyes softening as he reached up to gently towel-dry your hair, his fingers brushing through the damp strands.

"You look good in my shirt," pressing a kiss to your cheek, lingering there for a moment.

With a gentleness that made your heart ache, he scooped you up again, carrying you effortlessly back to the bed. He laid you down carefully, arranging the pillows behind you before sliding in beside you.

You nestled against him, your head resting on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a peaceful state. his hand found its way to your hair, his fingers weaving through the strands with a slow, soothing rhythm.

He stayed like that, playing with your hair, his other arm wrapped securely around you. "You’re safe," he whispered, his voice barely audible as sleep began to claim you. "I’ve got you."

You let out a content sigh, your body relaxing completely as you felt the last remnants of tension slip away. his fingers continued their gentle movements, his touch like a lullaby, coaxing you closer to sleep.

"Sweet dreams, my love," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, even as your eyes fluttered shut, his presence grounding you, comforting you in a way nothing else could.

And as you drifted off, the last thing you felt was the warmth of his hand in your hair, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you, and the quiet reassurance that he would be there when you woke up.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

-I really hope that was at least close for what you wanted and you enjoyed it thank you so much for your request 💗

[hoshifighting]

svt’s favorite place to cum when they pull out????

seungcheol; all over your stomach. watching it drip down your skin, seeing the way you shiver as it pools in your navel, it’s enough to drive him feverish. he strokes the last drops out, making sure every bit of him is covering you. he loves the way you squirm under his gaze, your fingers instinctively reaching down to scoop it up, and the smirk that spreads across his face when you taste him is pure satisfaction. “next time, i’m gonna make sure it’s even messier.”

jeonghan’s got a bit of a mean streak, so his favorite spot is your mouth, right on that pretty little tongue of yours. he loves watching your lips wrap around him, taking everything he gives. “that’s it, baby, just like that,” he purrs, guiding your head as he pulls out, making sure you don’t miss a drop. there’s something about the way your eyes water or how you look up at him with that needy expression, that just makes it so much better, thumb brushing over your cheek as you swallow.

joshua’s a thigh guy, no question. he loves the way they tremble under his touch, how soft and warm they feel against him. when he’s close, he always pulls out, just to coat your inner thighs with his cum, watching it mix with the slick from where he’s been fucking you senseless. hands squeezing your thighs, spreading them apart to get a better view of the mess he’s made. the contrast of his pale cum against your flushed skin that does it for him, the way you can’t help but rub your legs together, desperate for more. “don’t worry, i’ll clean you up after. maybe with my mouth.”

jun’s favorite spot is your chest, right between those gorgeous breasts. there’s something about seeing you covered in him that just makes his go brrrrr. as he pulls out, he’s already positioning himself, hand wrapped tight around his cock as he pumps himself to completion. “fuck, yes,” he groans, letting go right on your skin, watching it drip down the valley between your breasts. the way you arch your back, pushing them together, making sure he doesn’t miss a spot—it’s pure heaven. he pants, fingers trailing through the mess, smearing it across your nipples, grinning when you gasp at the sensation. “next time, i wanna see it dripping down your neck.”

hoshi; your ass, obsessed with how it bounces, how it fits perfectly in his hands. when he’s about to finish, he always pulls out, just to cum all over it. the sight of his release on your soft, round cheeks? it’s fucking art to him. hands squeezing your ass as he watches it glisten. he’s rough, spreading your cheeks apart, making sure every drop stays where he wants it.

wonwoo; your lower back, that sweet spot right where it dips. there’s something intimate, almost possessive, about marking you there. when he’s close, he pulls out just to watch his cum paint that perfect little curve. eyes locked on the way it pools in the small of your back. he loves how vulnerable you look, face down, ass up, his release shining on your skin. it’s like a brand, a reminder that you belong to him. “gonna keep you like this for a while,” he murmurs, tracing patterns in the mess he’s made. “so you remember who owns you.”

woozi’s a little unconventional?—he loves your hands. there’s something so erotic about seeing his cum on your fingers, knowing they’re the same ones you use to play your instruments, that do your makeup, to create. when he’s close, he pulls out, guiding your hand to wrap around him, making you finish the job. he gasps, watching intently as his release coats your fingers, dripping down to your wrist. the way you bring your hand to your lips afterward, licking him clean, it’s almost too much for him.

minghao; i think thighs too? legs in general, or a very ample place of your body, drives him crazy. when he’s close, he pulls out, just to see his cum drip down them, mixing with the sweat, the cum spreading it alone because of the ample skin. “sexy,” he breathes.

mingyu’s got a serious thing for your face, especially when he can see every little reaction you have. when he’s close, he pulls out just to watch his cum land on your lips, your cheeks, your chin, watching the way your eyes flutter shut, your tongue darting out to taste him. he likes the visual, the way his release contrasts against your skin, the way you look up at him, covered in him. thumb brushing over your lips, smearing it across your mouth. “can’t get enough of you like this.”

seokmin’s got a thing for your stomach, right below your belly button. it’s a vulnerable spot, one that feels incredibly intimate to him. when he’s about to finish, he pulls out just to see his cum spread across your soft skin, watching it drip down to your hips. his hand shaking as he spreads it around, making sure you feel every bit of him. “love seeing you like this, covered in me.” the way you blush, the way you look up at him with those big eyes... fucks him“gonna keep you like this, babe. don’t move.” he loves the idea of you walking around with his mark on you, knowing that you’re his.

seungkwan’s a sucker for your pussy, especially when you're clenching with every thrust. when he’s about to finish, he presses in, just to watch his cum dripping from you after, when he pulls out, I think he may finger you to keep the cum in place, or just to play with the mess, watching you squirm.

vernon; at first, ass. but he always gets ’too excited’ and ends up cumming in the middle of your back, or when you’re giving him oral, he might get so horny that might go accidentally on your hair or on your eyes, or on your makep. he’s always embarrassed, making sure to wash your hair, help you to clean your eyes, or retouch your makeup.

chan’s a creampie lover! don’t tell me otherwise, please! the mere thought of breeding you makes him roll his eyes back. when you’re in public and you two leave the bathroom, he’s sure that at some point your panties can’t hold everything in, when if his cum starts to drip down your thighs, he knows that it’s time to go home—and fill youup again. but if he pulls out, it think that he might smear it on the pussy lips/inner thighs

[thehighladywrites]

acotar men as baby daddies !

pairing: acotar men x fem!reader

summary: how is the dynamic with your hot baby daddy? click read more to find out😁

warnings: nsfw, smut, sexual themes, public sex, kinda toxic reader in rhysand’s part, manipulation, oral (m. + f. receiving), jealousy, baby daddies have no sense of shame whatsoever

amara’s note: i’m so sorry for exluding daddy eris i really love him but i swear i couldn’t think of anything for him💔💔💔💔

AZRIEL

“Hi, babygirl! I missed you so much,” you say, bending down to scoop your daughter into a warm hug as Azriel quietly locks the door behind him.

“Missed you too, mommy! Look what daddy got me! Isn’t it pretty?” She twirls, her little face lighting up as she shows off her new Barbie backpack, pulling out a matching doll with excitement.

“It’s beautiful! Barbie’s your favorite, right? Did you remember to say thank you to daddy?”

“Uh-huh! I said thank you to both of them.”

“Both?” you ask, your smile faltering just a bit.

“Daddy and his girlfriend. She’s really so pretty, almost like Barbie.”

Your stomach twists as you glance up at Azriel, who’s watching you intently, watching your reaction. “That’s really nice, honey,” you say, forcing a smile as your mind races.

This isn’t the first time your daughter has mentioned one of Azriel’s dates, and it’s starting to become a pattern. The man is honestly kind of a whore. There’s always someone new, not that you care or anything. A girlfriend wouldn’t bother you, someone your daughter sees and recognize, but Azriel is dating someone new every week and you don’t want that for your daughter.

“How about you go play with your new Barbie in your room for a little bit?”

She nods, happily skipping off to her room with her new toy, leaving you alone with Azriel. As soon as she’s out of sight, you straighten up and turn to him, your tone firm. “Azriel, I’ve asked you before—stop bringing random fucking women around my daughter.”

“Our daughter. And she’s not my girlfriend, just a friend—no need to get jealous,” he replies with a small smile, his tone light as if trying to diffuse the tension.

You can’t help but make a disgusted face before scoffing. “Jealous? You’re absolutely delusional if you think that’s what this is about. And wipe that smirk off your face—this isn’t a joke. I don’t want our daughter seeing you with a different woman every other minute, doing crazy things to them. Who knows what kind of example that’s setting?”

Azriel’s smile fades as he takes in your words. “I don’t do things to them, you’re overthinking it. But… I hear you,” he says, his tone more serious now.

“Good,” you reply, your frustration still simmering beneath the surface. “I’m stressed enough as it is, and the last thing I need is to worry about you messing with her head.”

Azriel smiles again. “You said you were stressed, huh?” He gets extremely close, towering over you. “Talking about it really helps.”

Azriel’s version of talk is taking you upstairs and putting his head between your legs, his tongue lapping at your throbbing pussy. He sucked on your clit, making you go cross-eyed in pleasure.

“Az,” you moaned as your fingers raked through his hair for a good grip to push him in deeper. Azriel doesn’t pull up for air or anything, he’d happily be suffocated to death if that meant you came.

Your back arches as his tongue lick long slow stripes. his dark gaze heavy with lust as he looks up at you. your chest is heaving, your tight walls flexing around the wet muscle when he pushes it inside of you, groaning when your hands pull at the dark roots of his hair, leaving it to fall messy over his eyes.

“look so pretty, shit—still stressed out?”

You manage to shake your head as felt your orgasm approaching quickly, thighs closing in around his head while your body writhed against the sheets of your bed.

“S-shit, cumming!” You tried to be quiet considering your daughter was not too far away. He slurped up your juices, not letting a drop go to waste.

No matter who you two dated, you always ended up back in each other’s beds. It was a pattern you knew by heart. He’d sneak out before morning to avoid confusing your daughter, and you’d be left with that familiar wave of regret that—

“Let me take you out Friday night. I want to give us another shot.”

—

CASSIAN

You put the final touches on your makeup, trying to be as quiet as possible with your kid asleep in the next room.

Cassian couldn’t possibly be late—he lived just a few floors down. When he’d agreed to the divorce so quickly, it stung a little, but then he’d gone and moved into the same apartment building, claiming it was “to be closer to his son.” You’d just rolled your eyes at that.

Living this close to him made it easy to call when you were horny and wanted a good fuck. I mean, isn’t it natural to fuck your baby daddy from time to time?

It was his weekend with your son, so you were finally free to go out and enjoy a child-free night. You sat at your vanity, touching up your hair when you heard light knocks at the door.

You opened it quietly, finding Cassian towering over you. His eyes immediately wandered down to your chest, lingering on your very, very short dress that barely covered anything. He grinned, clearly entertained. “Where you goin’ tonight?”

You rolled your eyes, closing the door softly behind him. Cassian always kept tabs on you, despite not being together anymore. “Out.”

Cassian stepped closer, his cologne filling the small space between you, making your head swim with the delicious scent of him. “Out?” he echoed, his voice low, teasing. “What’s outside?”

“Uh, date— I’m going on a date. With… someone.” The words tumbled out of your mouth, a bit too fast, a bit too shaky. Cassian was getting closer, too close, his eyes locked onto yours with that intense gaze that always made you nervous. He looked as handsome as ever. You could feel the wall creeping up behind you as you prayed you’d resist him this time.

“Cassian, you’re too close,” you murmured, but your voice lacked the conviction you were aiming for.

He didn’t stop, just kept closing the distance, his presence overwhelming. “A date, huh?” he asked, his voice low, almost teasing. He was right there now, just inches away, his body heat seeping into you. “And here I thought you were staying in tonight.”

You swallowed, trying to regain your composure. “I… I’m not. So you should leave—”

Cassian smirked, leaning in just enough for you to catch his breath on your skin. “ Why? You nervous?” His voice was soft, laced with something that sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded, barely managing a reply. “A little.”

His eyes flicked down to your lips before meeting yours again, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. “You don’t have to be nervous,” he said, his tone so smooth it was almost a whisper. “You look really good. Almost good enough to eat.”

And eat he did.

Your moans and noises of pure pleasure filled the room as he licked a stripe all the way to your clit, sucking on the nub.

The guilt that filled you at missing your date was quickly replaced by the unmatched pleasure Cassian was giving you. To absolutely nobody’s surprise, he had sweet-talked you into your own bed, making the date the last thing on your mind.

In the beginning, Cassian used to be distraught whenever you said you were going on a date but after managing to make you cancel and fuck him instead, he calmed down. You both knew he could effortlessly convince you anyways. It also didn’t helped that he had tongue sent from the Gods.

—

LUCIEN

“What’s wrong with you? You keep moving around,” Lucien whispers from the back row of the parents’ meeting for your daughter’s class.

You glance at him sideways, biting your lip as you debate whether to tell him the truth. Lucien looks ridiculously good tonight, and it's making it hard to focus on anything else. He’s manspreading, his muscular arms casually folded over his chest, radiating that effortless masculinity that always gets to you.

You shift in your seat again, trying—and failing—to keep your thoughts in check. Being this close to him, you can’t help but feel a little flustered. “Nothing’s wrong,” you mumble, though the way you’re squirming gives you away. You were throbbing and would have bent over on his command.

Lucien’s lips twitch into a knowing smile as he leans in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “Are you sure about that?” His voice is low, teasing, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

You try to compose yourself, but sitting next to him and remaining unaffected? Impossible. You’re so wet and he smells delicious, you can’t ignore it even though you broke up.

“Just focus on the meeting,” you mutter, trying to sound stern. “We both know how often you forget important information regarding our daughter.”

Lucien chuckles softly, his voice dripping with amusement. “You know, you’ve got one nasty, lying mouth on you,” he murmurs, and before you can react, his arm drapes casually over your shoulders. His fingers start to stroke the back of your neck, sending an electric jolt straight through you.

Your breath hitches, and you fight the urge to lean into his touch. "Lucien, this is not the time," you manage to say, though your voice betrays how much you're enjoying it.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “I think it is,” he whispers, his thumb grazing the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck. “And i’m dying to fix that mouth for you.”

Thankfully, you two are the only ones in the back so no one could possibly see you trying to take Lucien’s cock down your throat. The principals voice drilled on, covering your small coughs and gags.

“That’s a good girl, keep that up,” he groaned lowly, hand smoothing over your head in a comforting manner.

You hum in response, and slowly start to bob your head. You have about 30 minutes to kill, so you don’t go too fast, setting the speed gradually as his hands wrap around your hair.

Eventually the principal thanks everyone for their time and you climb back into your chair, quietly swallowing his load. You had completely missed everything the principal said but it was worth it.

—

RHYSAND

“What are you doing here?”

Rhysand’s voice was calm, but you could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes as he opened the door. You had to admit, he looked good—too good. Since the divorce, you hadn’t seen him up close, and damn, it was clear he’d been putting in some extra hours at the gym. His fitted shirt clung to his muscles in all the right places, making you momentarily forget the hell you’d put each other through.

“I thought I’d stop by and say hi to the father of my kids,” you replied smoothly, letting your eyes shamelessly trail down his body before brushing past him and stepping into his townhouse. The familiar scent of him, that intoxicating mix of cologne and something uniquely Rhys, wrapped around you, pulling you in deeper.

He sighed, shutting the door behind you, a knowing look on his face. “You know, I’d love to believe that, but I know you too well,” he said, crossing his arms as he turned to face you. “What do you really want?”

You moved closer, your hand landing on his chest with a playful smile before you pulled back, fingers lingering just a second too long. “That’s a nice shirt,” you complimented, ignoring his question. “Makes you look real good, Rhysie.”

“I know you well enough to know you’re here for something,” he repeated, his tone more insistent. His eyes narrowed slightly, trying to read you. “Now, what do you want?”

You pouted, fluttering your lashes in mock innocence. “Don’t be mean, rhysie. I mean, can’t I stop by and say hi?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your act. But there was a spark in his eyes, one that told you he wasn’t entirely immune to your presence, even after everything.

“What if I said I missed you?” you asked, your heels clicking against his expensive marble floor that was once yours too.

Rhysand’s eyes tracked your every step, his expression hardening. “I’d say you’re full of shit,” he replied, his voice edged with the same bitterness that had colored your last days together.

“I’m honest—”

Rhysand’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as he fought to keep his composure. “Don’t play games with me. I’m sick of your lies.”

You stepped closer, the air between you electric with tension. “Who says I’m playing?” you whispered, your voice daring him to believe you.

Jealousy rooted in you when you heared he was taking a liking to a girl named Feyre. Rhysand would always belong to you. You had to secure him before things moved forward.

To really sell your act, you leaned in even closer, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “C’mon, Rhysie. I wanna do it. You know no one else fucks as good as you, right?” Your voice was soft, dripping with temptation, and you knew the effect it had on him. The way his breath hitched, the way his hands twitched at his sides—it all told you you were getting to him.

“Don’t you miss me?” you added, your glossy lips curling into a smile as you pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. You could see the struggle in his gaze, the war between wanting to push you away and wanting to pull you closer. When he finally nodded, you were excited beyond belief.

“Then give in,” you murmured against his lips, your voice a sultry invitation. “I’ll let you put it in wherever you want too.” A playful smile tugged at your lips as you brushed your mouth over his, teasing him just enough before capturing his lips in a deep, lingering kiss.

Before you knew it, your panties where around your ankles, moans where echoing through the house as he fucked you from behind. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he repeatedly hit that sweet spot.

Rhysand knows he can’t resist you, and that’s exactly why he tries so hard to pretend otherwise. He loves this game of push and pull that keeps things electrifying between you. It’s a twisted thing, something he would never give up easily.

That’s why he’s fucking you the way he is right now—hungrily, rough. It betrays how much he craves you. He won’t admit it, not even to himself, but deep down, he’s addicted to this sick little game. The thrill, the tension, the way you challenge him—it’s intoxicating.

[01zfan]

twelve grapes | l. at

bestfriend!anton x reader | 4.5k words

this put me in an anton mood unfortunately

contains: best friends to lovers, new years eve traditions, missionary, love confessions

“it’s me.” you said to the door.

you didn’t even have to knock before the door was opened. you were greeted with a smiling anton. you smiled back, looking down at the ground for a moment.

“come in.” anton whispered, opening his door wider for you.

you walk in but anton left the door open. you saw that on his bed there was a child sleeping. it was usually like this at your joint family parties. one room would become the unofficial coatcheck and the other would be the designated room for sleeping babies. anton’s room was always the place of choice for babies to lay their heads down. he had a way with kids, they gravitated towards him and they always took a liking to his soft voice. his height was an advantage too, kids enjoyed climbing him and being on his shoulders as he walked through the house.

“one second. i’m gonna put him in the room down the hall.” anton said and he lumbered onto the bed.

you stayed in his room while anton carefully scooped the sleeping child into his arms to take them into a separate room. when he returned he closed the door behind him. you two stayed there for a moment, just looking at one another. 

everyone in your life started to notice the looks. they’d bump your shoulders while mentioning the stutter anton would have or how light and airy your voice would get. you weren’t sure if these statements had any validity. there were always comments about you and anton’s relationship. you two were kids, growing up together because your parents were close friends. you remember as a child anton’s parents jokingly saying you two have to get married so your two families would finally be related. you made a sour face and so did anton. at your age, boys were yucky and to anton, so were girls. you both decided you didn’t like each other like that when you kissed on the playground underneath the jungle gym. it was a quick peck, you both pulling away and shaking your heads. you two were still close, becoming your own people up side by side. you both went through so much change growing up but being by the others side remained the same.

lately though, there was something in the air. maybe it was the holidays and your weariness that came with the cold weather. but the way anton would look at you recently made you bashful, always compelled to look away or brush hair behind your ear. anton turned into a charming and handsome young man right in front of your eyes. he still kept the same soft voice and kindness you had as children, something you admired. you wanted to ignore the feelings but the way he would compliment you started making you sheepish. when something looked particularly good on him you would feel hot in the face, embarrassed for no reason. you found yourself sometimes thinking back to that kiss on the playground. when you were kids you guys simply just went back to playing, never bringing it up again. if that happened now, you believe that your body would burst into flames.

seeing both your families look at you knowingly validated your feelings, but regardless it was prying. you also didn’t want the comments to get to your head or ruin what you and anton had. it was special having someone in your life understand you the way anton did. you didn’t want to lose it, which is why you were happy you and anton were away from your two families as the party went on downstairs.

without prying eyes and knowing glances, it was very comfortable. conversation with anton had always flowed easily, both of you having similar senses of humor. occasionally during a joke you would hit his solid arm lightly, or he would put his hand on your thigh. it would linger there for a second before he would pull it away. feelings you had to beat to death with a stick stirred over your skin, but you were able to continue the conversations. before you knew it you guys talked half the night away.

sometime during the night, your family went home. something about an early morning the next day. you were able to convince them to let you stay under the guise of watching the ball drop, but what you really wanted was to be with anton. 

his parents were funny about the new year. every time they would rave about staying awake to watch the ball drop, being able to ease into the new year. what actually always ended up happening was that they would be knocked out on the couch watching the new years eve show. every year, anton would take a picture of his parents sleeping into the new year.

you and anton also almost missed the new year until he checked his phone.

“wow. time is flying.” anton said. 

you looked at the time. it was ten minutes until the new year.

“did you bring the grapes?” anton asks.

you smile at the mention of your silly little tradition. even though you and anton have never been to spain, every year you found yourselves crowded underneath a table on new years eating twelve grapes. it was believed to bring you good luck and good fortune, but you were never the type to believe in that type of stuff. each year though, you had anton by your side. you think that’s good fortune on its own. so you humored him each year—you supplied the grapes and he supplied the table.

“i left them downstairs in the fridge.” you said.

anton stood up his seat on the floor and you stood up from his bed. he went towards his bedroom door and you followed.

“let’s go get them. but be quiet so we don’t wake up my parents.” anton said, putting a finger to his lips.

the new years eve television special was blaring on the speakers, so loud you could’ve ran down the stairs at full speed and it wouldn’t down out the sound of the announcers on the screen. but you and anton loved tradition, so you snuck down the stairs the same way you did as children. anton leaned against his wall comically as he snuck down and you did the same.

you held hands often as children. it was always for reason, like if the other wasn’t moving fast enough or if you were scared. so when anton grabbed your hand for no reason as you snuck downstairs you thought you would stumble down the steps. but you let your hand rest inside of anton’s as you mirrored his footsteps so the stairs wouldn’t creak.

you guys successfully retrieved the grapes and two bowls, sneaking your way back upstairs. you didn’t let go of eachother’s hands once, not until anton led you underneath a table in his room. you both struggled to fit underneath the table, laughing at anton’s attempt to make his large body compact.

“i can’t believe we’ve been doing this since we were kids.” you say wistfully.

you open up the container of grapes in between the two of you. anton takes the time to inspect each grape before dropping it into your bowl, making sure it’s one of the firm and sweet ones. anton has always done this each year, while he just grabbed the first twelve for himself, not caring what they looked like.

“so much has changed since then, hasn’t it?” anton said lightly.

“we’re still the same.” you hum, nodding your head. 

it was hard to try and seem nonchalant sitting so close next to anton. even while he was sitting underneath the table he was taller than you, his head brushing the top of the table. you were light in the head being able to smell anton, to look at him so close. have his eyelashes always been this wispy? his cheeks looked so soft you were compelled to close what little space was left between the two of you to feel his skin. but you focused on grabbing the crispy and sweet grapes with a shaky hand.

anton was happy that you were enveloped in tasting the grapes. if you were focused on other things, he would have time to calm down his heart that was beating like a bird. he couldn’t even reach for his own grapes, too scared his shaking hand would give away the confession that was on his lips. each time you looked at him he was suddenly nervous. anton was already the shy type and the way you had him only made everything worse.

you both could hear the counting on the television upstairs as you each ate a grape, saying each month of the new year between each one. anton was able to take a grape with you, having to move his hand to rest on his knee to hide the shaking. when you get to the final month, the ball drops. you can hear it downstairs and you look at anton’s digital clock above his bed to doublecheck. it’s officially another year that you have started with anton.

“happy new year.” you say, finishing the last grape.

“happy new year.” anton says back to you. 

his voice sounds far off like he’s thinking about something. his focus goes all over your face, lingering on your eyes before stopping completely looking at your lips. you scooted closer to him. you found yourself staring at his lips too. you cleared your throat to point at his bowl filled with grapes.

“anton you barely ate any of your—“

you were cut off mid sentence by anton closing the gap between your bodies. you could barely process what happened before anton gently pressed his lips to yours. your eyes fluttered shut. you could feel his soft lips, tasting sweet like fruit. as fast as he placed his lips on yours he pulled back from you. 

your eyes snapped wide open in shock trying to process what had just happened. you had a million things rushing through your mind, the overwhelming need to tell him about his plump lips rested on your lips. you were there, frozen like a statue watching the red creep across anton’s face.

“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that. i just thought—there was this feeling i’ve had about you lately i thought it was mutual.” anton said.

the red creeped to his ears as he rambled to you. immediately you should’ve said something, quelling his worries of making a move. but you selfishly gave yourself a moment to bask in the feeling of mutual pining. you sunbathed in validation, all the fleeting looks and sudden touches made sense. you put your hand over anton’s. he stopped his rambling to look at you in the eyes.

“i like you too,” you say, smiling. “and we can talk about it later, but right now i really want you to kiss me again.”

anton goes back in to kiss you. this time he lets himself fully relax into you, and you pull him in by his sweater. he’s so close you can feel his hair resting on your forehead and his nose bumps yours every time you tilt your head to get a better angle. being with anton already doesn’t feel like the first time, finding a comfortable rhythm in the kisses. you think for a second that he knows you so well he’s completely tuned into your kisses, when you’ll tilt your head or when you need a breath of fresh air. you never want to break apart from him.

you listen to the sounds of your lips making contact fill the room. you’ve dreamed of this, having anton’s hand on your face so he can kiss you deeper. it’s not long before you let the kiss turn into something more desperate. you let your tongue come out and swipe across his lip. it’s a bold move on your end, one that anton responds to instantly. he prods his tongue into your mouth, tilting your head to feel the inside of your cheek. the kisses turn messy, you bring a hand to the nape of his neck to pull at his hair. 

anton’s other hand rests on your hip. he’s so close to your ass, you both know it. anton still has his reservations, how far you’ll let him go before he wakes up from this dream. but he is taking to paradise when you lean your body towards his, lifting your ass so he can rest his hand on there fully. he squeezes his hand into the pocket of your jeans and you moan feeling the pressure of his fingers against you.

anton was already a jumpy person. he blames it on his anxiety, always putting him in a fight or flight mode. but when you moan into the kiss he nearly leaps out of his skin. his head hits the bottom of the table with such force that the things on top of it shake. you look at him wide eyed asking if he’s okay, but anton is only focused on getting you to make that sound again. the way you look at him with large doe eyes and glossy lips has him thinking about all the time he wasted not kissing you. if anton had known how badly you wanted him he would’ve made a move a long time ago. but he doesn’t want to focus on the past. right now, you had a fully exposed neck and you two had all the time in the world.

you’re still worried about the possible brain damage anton might’ve faced when he brings his thumb to swipe across your lip.

“you’re lips are so soft.” anton whispers. “and they taste like grapes.”

before you can come close to anton again he’s leaning back into you. instead of your lips, he rests his face in the crook of your neck. he kisses the skin there repeatedly, getting sloppier and sloppier with each kiss. when he takes in your skin and sucks on it, you let out a gasp. anton uses his hand in your back pocket and his other one to guide your back to the floor. the change in position has excitement taking over. you never thought you would have anton hovering over you giving you a hickey on your skin. anton takes his hand out of your pocket and tucks his fingers underneath the waistline of your jeans. you take your hands underneath his sweater, feeling his bare body.

anton moves to the other side of your neck. you get the quickest glance at him before he retreats into the crook of your neck. his eyes are big and blown out and you lift your hips so your stomach touches his. anton’s hand supports your arch, using all of his strength to keep your bodies pressed against on another. he starts using teeth when sucking on your skin and you moan again.

“i love that sound so much.” anton says.

you moan again. hearing anton abandon his shyness so he could shamelessly flirt with you had you making sounds you didn’t know you could make. anton lets his hand hover over your shirt, resting on your chest. he moves your breast around in a circular motion. you need to be out of your clothes already, feeling anton inside of you. but patience is a virtue, so you let him feel you up like hormonal teenagers.

“so pretty. i’ve always wondered what you sounded like.” anton whispers against the skin of your neck. 

“does it sound good?” you ask.

“it’s better than what i ever could’ve imagined.”

he grips the fabric over your breast a little tighter and you arch into him. you can no longer take the teasing. you make quick work of the button and zipper on your jeans. you do the same to anton, using your hands to clumsily push his pants down. anton gets the hint, smiling before letting your back down gently. he moves beside you and you both careless take off your jeans. you stay in your underwear and anton keeps his boxers on. anton lets his eyes study your legs, how you bend them self consciously as anton looks at your panties. he’s rock hard in his pants and he needs you to know it.

anton takes your hand and places it over the growing bulge in his boxers. 

“you’re so hard.” you say.

“it’s because of you.” anton says.

his voice is still so soft as he speaks to you, sounding even more airy due to his arousal. now he’s the one gasping underneath your touch, his sweater is suddenly too hot for him. he takes it off as you wrap your hand against his shaft. you hold it firmly and anton almost bucks into your hand.

“do you have a condom?” you ask. 

you sit up, taking off your sweater too. you’re left in your bra and panties as anton springs up from underneath the table to go to his bedside table. if you two had any sense you’d move to the bed, but urgency is on the forefront of your minds. you need him right here, right now, and anton can’t wait another second.

anton grabs the tinfoil package and settles back onto the ground next to you. you both move to your side, taking the moment to bring in your nearly naked bodies. you are in that lacy bra looking like god sent you down here himself, and anton’s body has you speechless. you had seen it before growing up, but the intent now made all the difference. you bring a hand to trace from his navel to his chest then back down again. he takes your breasts in his hand, kneading your skin over the bra. he’s enthralled by the way you spill over the cup of the bra.

“i can’t believe it.” anton murmurs.

“me neither.” you say. 

you’re arching your back into his touch and you bring a hand behind you to undo the bra. instantly it loosens and anton helps you out of it. he can’t stop staring at your breats, the way your boobs sit pretty on your chest. anton reaches a hand towards them before pausing.

“can i?” he asks.

“please. i need you to touch me so bad.” you say.

your eyes are closed when anton finally touches you. he squeezes the flesh gently, before realizing you need it to be a little rougher. his actions are no longer timid when he moves to the other breast. he takes the nipple into his mouth and you let out the loudest gasp. this doesn’t stop anton, only eggs him on to suck a little harder. you tweak the nipple of the other breast with your hand, and anton only has to watch. you for a second before he’s doing the same thing. 

you help anton go back to his position on top of you. your leg ends up slotting between his and you can feel his dick poking your thigh. anton looks up at you from your chest and slowly grinds his length on your thigh. it’s thick and rests heavy on your leg. you can already feel a wet spot in his boxers where precum is seeping through. you’re sure your the same way, squirming in your panties that are becoming uncomfortable.

“anton.” you whine.

he perks up to look at you, he lets your breast fall from his mouth with a lewd pop. he wipes below his lip, where some of his spit came out.

“what’s wrong?” anton asks. he places a kiss on the nipple he didn’t suck.

“i can’t wait any longer.”

anton uses his hand to guide his dick to your entrance. you can feel the girth of its blunt head. you bring in a shaky breath. the suspense is making you antsy.

“tell me if it’s too much and i’ll pull out, okay?” anton says.

his fucked out expression is replaced with one of worry. you nod your head, moving your hands to rest on his shoulders. you try to relax, letting out the breath.

“i’m ready.”

“okay.” anton says.

he lets go of his guiding hand and brings it to yours. his grabs your hand, holding it the same way he did leading you down the stairs. anton places a kiss on your forehead and you try to kiss him back. you are too enchanted by feeling him sink into you. 

“so big.” you gasp.

“i know. can you take it?” anton asks. his voice is barely above a whisper, as he sinks further into you. 

anton means it as a genuine question, anxious that he may not fit all the way inside of you with no prep. it’s a question filled with worry, but the borderline mocking question mixed with his airy voice has you opening your legs a little wider. he’s teasing you without meaning to, and anton is a feels the way you react to his innocent question..

he is big, but your arousal makes it easier for you to take all of it. anton loses more and more of his composure the deeper he goes in. when your pelvises touch you clench around him. he lets out the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard and drops his head into the crook of your neck.

you can’t control the clenching. he presses gently against your insides, each time you clamp around him you swear you can feel every ridge and vein. it’s not long before you both are whimpering messes, feeling the euphoria of sex.

“can i move?” anton asks. 

he tries his hardest to keep his voice clear but it’s meek, weakened by ecstasy.

“yes, please.” you whimper.

anton listens, bringing himself out all the way slowly before sinking back in just as slow. being able to feel every inch of him again has you digging nails into his shoulder. anton loves the pain and he grips your hip to thrust a little harder. he kisses your forehead again and he’s captivated by the sight of your face contorting in pleasure and the way your chest jumps when he gives you harder and faster thrusts. he can’t control running off at the mouth.

“i’ve waited so long for this.” anton groans. 

“how long?” you say. 

your voice hitches in the middle of your sentence when anton hits you with a harder thrust. you both moan into eachothers mouths when he hits that spot deep inside of you.

“so long.” anton says. “you have no idea.”

he wants to tell you about the winter formal last year where that red dress complimented your skin perfectly. anton was swooning over you the whole night, having to make up excuses why he was so red in the face. he felt like someone from the middle ages, weakened by the sight of your bare shoulder. anton spent the whole night trying not to imagine taking your dress off of you, kissing all over your body.  when you danced with him he had to leave a gap between the two of you, afraid that if you got to close he’d faint. 

you had no idea about the nights anton would think about your lips, the way you talked to him and looked up to him when he was alone. his yearning had turning into something more, something he thought he’d never get.

but now here you were, naked on his floor with him on top of you. anton couldn’t believe you were here with him, clenching around his length uncontrollably while he moaned into your mouth. you leaned into his touch bending your leg to wrap around his waist. it was a alight change but the new angle had anton seeing stars.

“you feel so good.” anton said. 

it was almost like he couldn’t believe it. he was hitting you deeper and faster, his hand now leaving gripping the skin of your thigh to help support your leg.

“touch me anton.” you whimper. 

“where do you need me?” he asks.

you wordlessly grab his hand, leading it to your clit. anton gets what you need immediately, tenderly rubbing the bundle of nerves. you pull him in so close by his shoulders that his arm becomes wedged between your two bodies. anton remains constant with his motions, finding a rhythm that leaves you repeating his name breathlessly. anton increases his speed when you your words come out jumbled and in a hurry. anton understands your close, because he understands everything about you. he understands why you like the music you like, why you eat the food you eat, why you watch the movies you watch. he finds himself looking down between the two of you, your taut skin reacting to his every movement. 

“give me your hand baby.” anton says. 

his hand that was holding your thigh goes to yours. you clench it, nails digging into the back of his hand. anton goes back to s slower pace. he needs to see you come undone underneath you, he needs to draw out everything he hasn’t been able to get from you.

you don’t get the chance to tell anton you’re close. it comes slowly but it swallows your whole body. anton’s fluid thrusts prolong the feeling, and his hand on your clit intesifies everything. the knuckles on your hand turn white from the grip you have on anton. he doesn’t complain, he instead whimpers into you, smushing his cheek against yours as his thrusts start becoming staggered. your leg around his waist locks him in place as he gives you on final thrust. you feel anton throbbing in you and he gasps into the crook of your neck that he’s cumming. you continue to moan, driving both your bodies to keep going. 

there’s something to be said about the two of you cumming together without planning it. the word ‘soulmate’ and the phrase ‘i love you’ sits on both of your tongues as your chests heave from exertion. anton pulls out of you, tying the condom on his dick off before letting himself fall beside you. 

both of you two stare at the bottom of the table, trying to process what just happened. you still try catching your breath when you turn your head to see anton already looking at you. his face is flushed, red splotches across his skin and his hair is unbelievably mused. he smiles at you before leaning over and wiping away a tear you didn’t even know was there. after that brief look, both of your gazes go back to the bottom of the table.

you feel anton creep his hand into yours, slow and timid. out of the corner of your eye you see him still looking at the table, with a worried expression on his face. you grab his hand and squeeze it, letting him know you’re real and you’re right there with him. your relationship with anton will never be the same, and you like it that way.

thank yew for reading! here is my ko-fi if you wanted to support me further!

[harrysfolklore]

the bestest - lh44

summary: lewis hamilton wins the silverstone grand prix, and his daughter thinks he's the bestest. wc: 1.7k. based on this request

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The British Grand Prix always carried a unique significance, but this year felt particularly momentous. Fans filled the stands, waving flags and banners, their cheers echoing through the circuit.

For Lewis, this year felt extra special because his wife and little girl were joining him, and that was enough to give him an extra boost of motivation for the upcoming race.

Alana Hamilton is just four years old, and she's the light of your lives. She's a curious child who always has a smile for everyone, her bright eyes constantly scanning her surroundings for new wonders to discover.

And she has her father completely wrapped around her tiny finger, everybody knew it.

Alana clung to your hand as you made your way to the paddock, her eyes wide with wonder at the spectacle around her. She had been to races before, but this time she was more aware of her surroundings and everything happening.

“Mommy, look at all the people!” Alana exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder as she held your hand. “They’re all here for Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetheart, a lot of them are here to see Daddy race," you smiled at her, "He has a lot of fans who love to cheer him on."

“I’m going to cheer the loudest!”

Alana’s gaze followed every movement, her curiosity sparking with each new discovery. She was soaking it all in—the hustle of the team members, the hum of the engines, the vibrant colors of the team uniforms.

When you and Alana arrived at the team garage, Lewis was there, busy with pre-race preparations. He looked up, his face lighting up at the sight of his family.

“There’s my little girl,” he said, bending down to scoop Alana into his arms.

Alana giggled, her small arms wrapping around his neck. “Daddy, are you going to win today?” she asked, her voice full of hopeful excitement.

Lewis brushed a kiss on her forehead. “I’m going to give it my all, princess. With you cheering me on, I have a really good feeling about today.”

As Lewis held Alana, George Russell, his teammate, walked by and smiled warmly at the scene.

"Well, if it isn't the Hamiltons, my favorite family," he said, his tone friendly and genuine.

Alana's face lit up with recognition. She remembered George from previous encounters and team events. "George!" she exclaimed, waving enthusiastically from her perch in Lewis's arms.

"Hello there, little champion," George chuckled, giving Alana a gentle high-five. "Are you excited for the race today?"

"Yes! Daddy's going to win because he's the bestest driver in the whole wide world!" she declared with innocent confidence, looking at Lewis with adoring eyes.

Lewis couldn't help but beam with pride, though he tried to maintain a humble demeanor. "Well, I don't know about that, sweetheart. There are a lot of great drivers out here today."

"But you're the bestest, Daddy," Alana insisted, her conviction unshakeable.

George laughed good-naturedly. "Well, Lewis, looks like you've got your biggest fan right here. No pressure or anything," he teased.

You smiled, watching the interaction. It was heartwarming to see how the team had become like an extended family, especially for Alana.

"Alright, princess," Lewis said, giving Alana one more squeeze, "Daddy needs to finish getting ready for the race. You be good for Mommy, okay?"

Alana's grip tightened around Lewis's neck, her little face scrunching up in defiance. "No, Daddy, don’t go!"

“Sweetie, Daddy has to race now," you gently stroked her back, "We’ll be right here watching him the whole time.”

As Alana clung tighter to Lewis, her eyes welling up with tears, you could see the conflict on your husband's face. He hated leaving her upset, but the race was about to start.

"Hey, princess," Lewis said softly, gently prying her arms from around his neck. "Remember what we talked about? Daddy has to go fast in the car so he can come back to you even quicker."

Alana's lower lip trembled, but she nodded, reluctantly loosening her grip. "Okay, Daddy. Be fast and be safe."

"I will, princess. I promise," Lewis kissed her forehead tenderly.

He handed her to you, and Alana nestled into your arms, still watching Lewis with wide, admiring eyes. He turned to you next, his expression softening.

"I'll see you both soon. I love you."

You smiled, leaning in to kiss him. "Be safe out there."

With one last glance at his family, Lewis turned and headed towards his car, his determination renewed by the love and support he carried with him.

As you made your way to the VIP viewing area, Alana's eyes darted everywhere, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling circuit. The roar of engines filled the air as the cars lined up on the grid.

"Look, baby," you pointed, "There's Daddy's car. Number 44, remember?"

Alana nodded eagerly, her eyes fixed on the sleek silver Mercedes. "Go, Daddy, go!" she shouted, even though the race hadn't started yet.

Throughout the race, you explained what was happening in simple terms Alana could understand. She cheered every time Lewis's car came into view, her enthusiasm making everyone around melt.

"Daddy's car is going so fast! He's the bestest!" Alana exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder.

When the final lap came, the tension was palpable. You held Alana close, her little hands clutching your shirt as she watched Lewis take the lead. As he crossed the finish line first, the grandstands erupted in roars.

Alana’s eyes widened in amazement. “Mommy, did Daddy win?”

“He did, sweetheart!” you exclaimed, hugging her tightly. “Daddy won!”

"Daddy won! Daddy won!" she chanted, her voice filled with pure joy.

You couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm, your own heart swelling with pride. "Let's go see Daddy, shall we?" you suggested, taking her hand.

You hurried to the pit lane, eager to congratulate Lewis. As he climbed out of the car, the sight of you and Alana brought a huge smile to his face. He reached out, and Alana practically leapt into his arms.

“Daddy!” she shouted, hugging him tightly. “You did it!”

Lewis laughed, his eyes shining with happiness. “We did it, baby girl.”

Lewis held Alana with one arm and reached out to pull you into the embrace with the other. The three of you stood there, a little island of family amidst the chaos of the celebration.

"I'm so proud of you," you whispered to Lewis, giving him a quick kiss.

Alana, not wanting to be left out, planted a big kiss on Lewis's cheek. "Me too, Daddy! You're the bestest ever!"

As the celebrations continued around you, Lewis kept Alana in his arms, not wanting to let her go. She had always been clingy with him, especially since he was away a lot of weekends for races. She missed him a lot, and every moment they spent together was precious to her.

When it was time for the post-race interview, Lewis tried to set Alana down, but she clung to him, her small hands gripping his suit. “No, Daddy, hold me.”

“Come on, sweetheart, let Daddy do his interview,” you coaxed.

Lewis looked at you with a soft smile. "It's okay, I'll take her with me. I'll pay whatever fine the FIA gives me," he said, adjusting Alana in his arms. You couldn't help but chuckle, knowing how much this moment meant to both of them.

As Lewis approached the interview area, he saw a familiar face waiting for him - Nico Rosberg, his former teammate and rival. Nico's eyebrows raised slightly at the sight of Lewis carrying Alana, a small smile making its way to his face.

"Lewis, congratulations on your win today," Nico began, microphone in hand. "And I see you've brought a special guest with you."

Lewis grinned, bouncing Alana slightly in his arms. "Yeah, this is my daughter Alana. She's my good luck charm today."

"Hello there, Alana," Nico smiled warmly at her, "Did you enjoy watching your dad race today?"

Alana, suddenly shy in front of the camera, buried her face in Lewis' neck but peeked out with one eye. "Daddy is the bestest," she mumbled.

The crowd around them collectively "aww'ed" at her adorable response. Lewis chuckled, patting her back gently.

"Well, Lewis," Nico continued, "that was an incredible drive today. Can you talk us through that final lap?"

As Lewis answered, discussing the intricacies of the race, Alana stayed nestled in his arms, occasionally lifting her head to look around curiously and playing with the zipper of her father's suit.

When the interview concluded, it was time for the podium ceremony. Lewis knew he couldn't take Alana up there with him, no matter how much he wished he could.

"Alright, princess," he said softly, "Daddy has to go up on the big stage now. Can you stay with Mommy and watch?"

Alana's grip tightened, her lower lip trembling. "No, Daddy, I want to stay with you!"

You stepped forward, gently prying Alana from Lewis's arms. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's watch Daddy get his big trophy. We can wave to him from here."

Reluctantly, Alana allowed herself to be transferred to your arms, her eyes never leaving Lewis. As he walked towards the podium, he turned back to blow a kiss to both of you.

You found a good spot near the podium, holding Alana up so she could see clearly. Her eyes widened as she watched Lewis climb the steps to the top of the podium.

"Look, baby," you said, pointing. "There's Daddy on the top step. That means he won!"

Alana's face lit up with pride and excitement. "Daddy won! Daddy won!" she chanted, clapping her hands.

As the British national anthem played and Lewis stood tall on the podium, trophy in hand, Alana watched in awe. When Lewis spotted you two in the crowd, he gave a special wave and blew a kiss your way, making Alana squeal with delight.

"He sees us, Mommy!" she exclaimed, waving back furiously.

You hugged her close, your heart full of love for your little family. "Yes, he does, sweetheart. He's waving just for you."

As the champagne spray began, Alana giggled at the sight of her daddy getting all wet. It was a perfect end to a perfect day, one that you knew would be etched in your family's memories forever.

[obsesssedblerd]

oh, the idea of satoru attempting to get his hands on you numerous times throughout the day but keeps getting interrupted (bc y’know, he’s a busy sorcerer) and then finally snapping because he’s so pent up that he can’t think about anything other than fucking you makes me giggle. 

smut under the cut. MDNI. also, barely proof-read so sorry for mistakes lol.

----

You squeal with excitement when you hear the door to the apartment unlock. Satoru was home. Finally, he was back after spending two weeks away on business. The moment you see just a glimpse of his white hair, you rush towards him and wrap him in a tight hug, him lowering his Infinity just in time to scoop you off of your feet. You're hit with the scent of his cologne, the feel of his soft hair underneath your fingers, and you sigh in relief. Finally.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he greets with his usual smirk as your legs wrap around his waist. “Miss me?” 

He kisses you before you can respond, so you settle for humming into his mouth. He walks you both over to the living room, gently setting you on the couch before climbing on top of you. Your hands fumble with his jacket, and he helps you out by taking it off. He breaks away from your mouth to start doting messy kisses down your neck and collarbone. “Mmm, fuck. Missed you too,” he says, his voice deep with lust. “Been wanting this for so long, baby.” 

His phone vibrates, and he ignores it, deciding to focus on pulling your shirt up instead. When it continuously vibrates with multiple calls, he sighs irritatedly and pulls it from his pocket to see Yaga’s name on the screen.  

You giggle from underneath him, pulling your shirt back down and sitting up. “I think you should get that.” 

“This isn’t over,” he promises. He gets up and answers the phone, holding it up to his ear. “This better be important. …Huh?! I just got back from a mission, what the hell do you mean the higher-ups want to talk?!” 

— — — — 

“Alright, you all. That’s it for today,” you conclude your lesson with a clap, and the second years begin to gather their things. “Geto will meet you all in the field so you can have a lesson that’s a bit more active. Have fun!” 

They all express their excitement, then make their way outside of the classroom. They pass Satoru on the way out, who had just arrived only a few minutes before the end of your lesson. “Yeah, yeah, what she said. Hey, Okkotsu!” 

“Yes?” Yuta calls back. 

“Remember to—” 

“Work on that cursed energy control. Yeah, I got it,” the boy groans. 

You shake your head with a tiny laugh as Satoru shuts the door to the classroom. “I swear, Yuta is trying his best. He’s— Whoa!” 

Your back suddenly hits the wall, and Satoru is in front of you. His blindfold is raised, and you see the utter hunger pooling in his blue eyes before he’s kissing you, similar to the way he did that morning. You moan into his mouth, and your arms come up to wrap around his neck. “Mmm, fuck. T-Toru, we’re—” 

“Shhhhh,” he hushes against your lips. “Didn’t I tell you that this wasn’t over?” His hand begins to trail further down your body, eager fingers hurriedly unbuttoning your jeans. “Just try to be as quiet as possible, baby. I’ll be quick. Gonna make you feel so good—” 

He’s cut off with a knock at the door. “Gojo, are you in here?” 

Nanami.

“Busy!” He yells, a bit on the harsher side. 

“You’re with [Y/L/N] right now. Her lesson with the second years just ended. You do know that around this time, you’re supposed to be training the first years, right?” 

Satoru looks at the clock at the wall, then winces. It’s true, but still, he desperately needed you, otherwise he thought that he’d explode. “Just tell them I’m—” 

“Can’t. They’re right here with me,” Kento says flatly. “They’ve been waiting for at least half an hour.”

You hear Yuuji’s excited voice next. “Hey, Gojo-sensei! How was your mission?!” 

“Itadori, no need to shout. Seriously, we’re all right here,” Megumi grumbles.

“I’m with Fushiguro on this one,” Nobara comments. 

Satoru groans into your shoulder, and his fist hits the wall. Unable to take his strength, it caves, leaving a nice-sized hole next to the chalkboard. You stifle a laugh. Thank goodness that this wasn’t your classroom and you were only borrowing it.

He inhales sharply, then masks his annoyance and sexual frustration with a smile. “Alright! Be out in a second!” He calls out to them.

He sees you laughing into your hand, and he leans forward to whisper in your ear, “Just wait ‘till later.”

— — — — 

‘Later’ was far later than Satoru had hoped. After training the first years, Yaga talked to him about the next exchange event and how they were behind on planning, and then he had to shadow the second years on a mission that lasted what felt like forever.

You’re back in the apartment, humming as you finish tidying up the living room. You grab the basket of laundry, sit down, and begin folding towels. It was close to eight in the evening. You’re about to grab your phone to check on Satoru when you hear the door opening. 

“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to think that I’d have to come and help out,” you say without looking up. “I mean, yeah, the curse was lower-ranked, but sometimes the second years—” You cut yourself off with a surprised scream as Satoru effortlessly hoists you with one arm, puts you over his shoulder and walks in the direction of your bedroom. Once you’re in there, he lightly tosses you on the bed, then yanks off his blindfold. His eyes are dark with a mixture of the hunger you saw earlier, and frustration.

“No more bullshit,” he says as he climbs over you, gathering your wrists and pinning them above your head. “If someone else interrupts, I might just hollow purple them.” When he kisses you, it’s far more intense than he’s ever kissed you today. His tongue explores your mouth, and you moan from the dizzying, yet pleasurable sensation. It’s not long before you’re both panting. His hands grip your shirt, and the sound of fabric tearing fills your ears. You gasp, your mouth falling open in shock when the scraps of your shirt as well as your bra are tossed aside. 

Satoru is breathing hard above you, nearly drooling as he stares at your upper body, his white hair beautifully framing his face. He dives in and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth. Your back arches off of the bed when you feel his tongue swirl around the sensitive bud, and you whine his name needily. He moans, alternating between using his teeth to leave gentle love bites on your tits and using his tongue on your nipples. It’s messy, greedy, and you don’t ever want it to stop.

Finally, he kisses further down your stomach, pulling down your leggings along with your panties and tossing them to the bedroom floor. He spreads your thighs, then licks a long stripe up your pussy, a loud, shameless groan of relief escaping him when he finally tastes you. “Oh, fuck, I’ve missed you so much, baby,” he sighs, and he smiles devilishly up at you as he readjusts his hold on your thighs. “Think this pussy missed me just as much, if not more. She’s fucking soaked.” 

He only gives you a split second to take a breath to prepare yourself, then he’s devouring you as if he were poisoned and the antidote was inside of your pussy. His tongue swipes expertly across your folds, then it flicks against your clit. You bury your hands into your hair as pleasure zips through your body, the rest of the world fading away until all that’s left is you and Satoru. “Toru- Ohhhhh shit, baby. Fuck-” You gasp desperately when he gently sucks your clit into his mouth. He’s moaning loudly, drunk off of the taste of your pussy and from the feeling of you pulling his hair. 

You grind your hips against his face when you feel a knot beginning to form in your lower stomach, your breath stuttering as it tightens. You knew that this orgasm was going to blow any orgasm you gave yourself during the last two weeks while he was away on business completely out of the water. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you manage to tell him in between pants. “Oh, god, Toru, right there, right there, right there-” You feel your body begin to clench, ready to release. 

But then, Satoru stops. 

You whine frustratedly as your orgasm fades away before you could reach it, looking down at your boyfriend in between your thighs, who’s smiling deviously. “That was for laughing at me earlier,” he says after licking the rest of your juices off of his lips. “Not so funny now, is it?””

On a normal day, you’d be stubborn and attempt to piss him off, but today was different. Your head rests on the pillow, and your chest rises and falls with every pant, groaning in defeat. “Satoru, please,” you beg, keeping your voice as low as possible so he doesn’t hear the utter desperation. 

Satoru feigns confusion, and you see the pure delight in his eyes. Little shit. “Sorry, baby, what was that?” he asks. 

“Please,” you repeat louder. “Make me cum.” 

He hums as he pulls off his shirt. “I’ll think about it.” He stands up, and you sit up to help him with his pants, eager to taste him and take his cock down your throat. You pull his underwear down, and he stops you when he catches onto what you’re doing. “Another time, baby. Right now, I just really need to fuck you.” He kisses you once, and you moan at the taste of yourself on his lips. “It’s been too long. Lay back.” 

You lie back on the mattress, and he grabs your legs to gently pull you towards the edge of the bed, then places them on his shoulders. He slides his cock in, and the both of you moan in relief. Satoru doesn’t waste any time and starts fucking you fast, which you two needed. Being separated for two weeks on top of the usual stress of missions and teaching was horrible for you both. “Ohhhh, fuck,” Satoru moans loudly, not caring if anyone else heard, his eyes practically rolling into his head from the pleasure. “Shit, baby, you feel so fucking good.” 

He slows the speed of his thrusts, but intensifies them by going harder, the salacious sounds of his hips meeting yours filling the room. Satoru looks down at you, taking in the o-shape of your mouth, your closed eyes and the way you're gripping the bedsheets as you whimper his name. He has to bite the inside of his mouth so he doesn’t cum too quickly. 

“Sat- Satoru,” you moan out deliriously as you open your eyes, gasping when his cock perfectly hits your g-spot. “Fuck, you’re- Ah- so deep.” Tears blur your vision, and your boyfriend chuckles as he leans down closer to you, his thrusts relentless. Satoru kisses your cheek, then uses a thumb to wipe away a tear. 

“Aw,” he coos condescendingly into your ear. “You cryin’?” 

Your nails drag down his back, and he reaches in between where your bodies are connected to rub gentle circles on your clit. You feel that knot begin to form again, far more intense than before since you were edged earlier. “F-Fuck, Toru, I-” You’re cut off when his mouth meets yours for another messy kiss. He continues rubbing your clit, and you whimper behind his lips. He groans when your pussy begins to tighten around his cock. You grip his shoulders to steady yourself as your breathing begins to come out in short bursts. 

“Let go, baby, it’s okay,” Satoru purrs into your ear. “Cum for me. Let me feel you.” 

Your legs tense, your toes curl, and stars fill your vision as your orgasm takes you by force. You’re screaming his name as your body trembles, and Satoru murmurs encouragement into your ear as he fucks you through it. “Thaaaat’s it, pretty girl,” you hear, then he groans, also so close to finishing, his thrusts growing sloppy. “Fuck, baby...”

Though you’re dizzy from your orgasm, you muster enough focus to kiss him. You stroke his face, lovingly run a hand through his hair, then wrap your legs around his waist to bring him in even closer, encouraging him to give everything to you. You wanted him to cum—needed him to. The kiss and the faint pulsing of your pussy pushes him over the edge, and Satoru moans loudly into your mouth as he stills, spilling his thick load deep within you and coating your walls. He cums hard, his grip on you tightening as he breathes heavily. Finally, he collapses, but is careful not to crush you with his weight. 

Both of you are silent for a moment, remaining with each other as you mellow in the aftershocks of your orgasms. “Shit,” Satoru breathes out with a small laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard before. I thought I blacked out for a second.” 

You laugh with him, then press a kiss to his forehead. “Welcome home.” 

“Happy to be back. Missed you like crazy. Can’t believe I had to wait all day for that.” 

“Missed you too, and same here, but you gotta admit, it was funny.” 

Satoru tenderly smiles down at you, and your heart stutters at the sight of it. You were always weak for that specific smile. “It was, but, uh… you wanna know something else that might be funny?” 

“Hm?” 

“We broke the bed.” 

“....What?”

----

a/n: I just had to add "the" line lol. I couldn't resist.

[sughuru]

you’re late

- gojo satoru x reader and young! fushiguro megumi

you forgot to pick up a certain someone from school.

genres/warnings: fluff, reader is gojo’s s/o, platonic relationship with megumi, kinda ooc, more of a thought that came to my mind, not proofread

notes: hopefully i’ll have time to write more as christmas break is finally here!! as always, english isnt my first language so ignore any errors, thank youu!

home | masterlist

—

You were impromptly called in by Yaga to take over a second grader’s mission in Kyoto and you had just finished. You checked the time on your phone and noticed it was almost 4 PM. As you were heading home you decided to stop by the supermarket to grab yourself a drink and perhaps a snack and some candies for Tsumiki and Megumi, although, they’d probably be eaten by your boyfriend anyway.

As you were walking home, you received a phone call from your loving boyfriend, Satoru. You answered the call, a small smile forming, “yes, darling?”

You could hear Satoru chuckle from the other end of the phone, “Hey, babe! Just returned from a mission, have you picked up Megumi?” he asks. You froze on the spot, almost dropping the groceries earlier. You gripped onto the phone tighter, your other hand tightly clutching on the plastic bags.

“…weren’t you supposed to pick Megumi up?” you asked, worry washed over you as you quickly sped walk home.

Noises from Satoru’s end of the line were loud, “huh? I thought you— damn it! Can’t you see I’m calling the love of my life?” he seems to be in the middle of a exorcism. You sighed and quickly ended the call.

“Okay okay, fuck, I forgot!” you quickly turned around and made your way to Megumi’s school. Your heart was filled with guilt, realizing that you really did forget to pick him up as you remembered that Satoru did remind you last week that he couldn’t pick the young boy up today.

Standing right outside the school gate, you entered to look for the tiny boy. You noticed a little boy with jet black hair by the swing, swinging himself back and forth. As you got closer, you could hear soft sniffles.

“Gumi?” you softly called out and the boy turned around, revealing it to be Megumi indeed. You quickly ran up to him, “I’m so so so sorry…I forgot— I accepted a mission and completely forgot Satoru couldn’t pick you up and Tsumiki’s at a sleepover.” you quickly hugged him tightly. Megumi didn’t say anything.

“I-it’s okay…” Megumi’s soft voice cracked which made your heart shatter a little more, you noticed there were dry tear stains on his cheek.

You picked him up, “as an apology, how about we get some ice cream, yeah?” you grinned at him.

Megumi nods, clearly still upset by the whole situation; but who could blame him?

At the ice cream store, you allowed him to get two scoops of his favorite flavors. The boy seemed to be in a better mood after eating.

“Megumi, I’m really sorry again, I didn’t mean to leave you alone for so long at school!” you quickly apologized again and the boy shook his head, “it’s okay…it was a mistake, right?”

You blinked, “of course it was!” That’s when you realized something.

Megumi and Tsumiki’s father abandoned them when they were really young, you had assumed that Megumi had no recollection of those memories but today’s situation says otherwise.

Realizing that Megumi thought that you and Satoru were abandoning him and his sister caused you to slightly tear up.

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, I-“ you quickly wipe your tears but Megumi’s small hands beat you to it. He attempted to wipe it off with a tissue before throwing it away.

“It was an honest mistake, I-i understand, okay?” he muttered. For a seven year old, you couldn’t believe how mature he is for his age.

You nodded, “yeah, yeah.”

Megumi nods. The air was so thick, you were about to break the ice when Megumi looked up again, “Y/N.”

“Mhm?”

“…don’t tell Gojo, okay?” Megumi starts as he mixes the melted ice cream that is left in his cup, “you and…Gojo won’t ever leave me and Tsumiki, right?”

You pulled him into a hug, “of course not! I wouldn’t even dream of it!” Megumi gave you a small smile, “promise?”

“A promise.” you reassured the boy once more as you tightly hugged him more. It was evident that Megumi seemed to relax after you hugging him.

Later that evening, you explained the whole situation to Satoru. To make up for your mistake, you took Megumi and Satoru to his favorite dog cafe and let him stay as long as he pleases.

[werepuppy-steve]

Robin has spent plenty of time watching Steve Harrington from the shadows. The way he continuously stayed on the sidelines of the rest of his friends’ bullying was interesting. He never said too much of anything when it happened, didn’t look all that interested in it, either. Just leaned against a locker and looked bored out of his mind.

Until a week before Thanksgiving break a couple years ago, when Tommy Hagan started bragging to anyone who’d listen about how Steve got his shit rocked by Jonathan Byers and promptly dumped him and Carol to the curb after. Sure, Tommy made sure to mention that Steve was the one to push until Jonathan finally snapped and punched him, but he didn’t say how Steve had gone limp after. Letting Byers rearrange his face until a teacher ran over to break them up.

She remembers how lost he’d looked in the aftermath. Like he was a shell of himself.

So yeah. Steve Harrington isn’t the same person he was in high school. Or at least he’s trying not to be, that much Robin has noticed since he started working at Scoops at the beginning of the summer. But she didn’t think he’d changed so much to be openly flirting with the Freak of Hawkins.

Well. Not exactly flirting, but there’s something there Robin can’t quite put her finger on.

Steve’s manning the counter, right where she’d left him twenty minutes ago, but instead of looking like the picture of boredom slinging ice cream to annoying kids, he’s leaned his elbows on the counter where Eddie Munson is doing the same on the other side. They’re too quiet for Robin to hear what they’re talking about but Steve’s fingers are hooked on Eddie’s watch, not pulling or tugging. Just resting.

Eddie’s hands are clasped in front of him but his pointer finger keeps reaching out to lightly stroke Steve’s arm, and that’s when it hits Robin like a slap in the face.

They’re domestic.

The lobby is empty, save for Eddie’s friends that now occupy one of the booths, loudly arguing over something but Robin could care less because at that moment, Steve says something that has Eddie letting out a cackle laugh, his nose scrunched up and his shoulders shaking as he laughs. Her eyes slide over to Steve and he’s.

Huh.

Gone is the usual smug smirk that graces his face when a girl laughs at one of his (awful) jokes, and is replaced by something… fond. His face is relaxed into a small smile and his round Bambi eyes are shining with mirth. Like he’d expected this reaction. Sometime during this, their fingers have tangled together in a subtle hand-hold across the counter and holy shit.

Steve Harrington is dating Eddie Munson.

One of Eddie’s friends (Jeff, she thinks. They had pre-calc together.) says something and Steve only rolls his eyes as he replies. Eddie’s grinning at them over his shoulder. Neither of their postures have changed. Robin feels like the room’s spinning.

She knows about Eddie. Eddie knows about her. It’s never been verbally said, but birds of a feather and all that. It doesn’t have to be. She must accidentally bump into something in her attempt to rebalance the world because Steve’s head is snapping toward her and panic flashes in his eyes as he tries to rip his hands away from Eddie’s.

Eddie only holds them tighter as he locks eyes with her.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” he tells Steve in a hushed tone. In front of him, Steve’s visibly shaking like a leaf, mouth opening and closing but not making a sound. Robin’s heart breaks a little. He looks downright terrified. Eddie’s eyes haven’t left her. “She’s safe. Aren’t you, Birdie?”

The question is directed at her. She swallows and nods quickly. “Y-yeah!” She winces at the volume of it. Clearing her throat, she tries again, taking a step forward like she’s approaching a frightened animal. “You can trust me, Steve.” Uses his first name instead of the ‘dingus’ that’s grown affectionate. “I'm—” She glances over at the booth that’s gone quiet. She doesn’t want to out herself to the entire freak population of Hawkins High.

“I’m a friend,” she settles on.

It takes Steve a moment for it to sink in, and when it does, his eyes somehow grow bigger in understanding. “Oh,” he breathes out, like a sigh of relief. Eddie’s rubbing his thumb over Steve’s knuckles.

“Yeah, dingus.” Robin’s close enough now to nudge his shoulder with hers. “Oh. Why don’t you go on break? I’ve got this.”

Steve gives her a grateful look and tugs Eddie to the booth to join Eddie’s —their— friends.

“It’s about damn time you guys remembered the rest of us,” the curly haired one complains as they both slide in on the same side. Eddie throws a straw wrapper at him and Robin stops paying attention after that.

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[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Happy 6k!!!! That’s so exciting and you deserve it :)

Can I request Bucky & touch starved?

.⋆｡Small Adjustments｡⋆.

Bucky Barnes x plus size reader

To Bucky, touch brought with it pain and suffering but maybe it can be different with you

Warnings:  touch starved!Bucky, fluff, mutual pining, mention of torture, bit of hurt/comfort WC: 1.3k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

It was an unspoken agreement amongst the Avengers that under no circumstances was Bucky to be touched. There were one too many instances of him lashing out at even the smallest of touches and after Peter’s arm was almost broken when he grabbed Bucky’s shoulder to steady himself after tripping, the rule was firmly set in place. 

Touch had always been the harbinger of pain to Bucky. He had experienced and survived thousands of experiments; he knew the difference between acids just based on how much they burned him when they made contact with his skin. He knew what it was like to be ripped apart from the inside out as he was stitched back together while fully conscious. Bucky’s nerves were permanently scarred with each and every moment of pain, ensuring that he would never forget what he had gone through. Needless to say, he appreciated the physical distance the Avengers afforded him, even if it did make his chest ache sometimes.

He saw the friendly touches between them all— a hug after a hard mission, a clap on the back during training, even the occasional platonic cuddling during movie nights and he couldn’t help but be envious, especially when it came to you.

You were, by far, the most affectionate person he had ever met. You didn’t hesitate to wrap yourself around anyone who needed a hug, your hand was quite frequently clamped with someone else’s (Natasha’s or Wanda’s more often than not). You weren’t selfish with your touch and though it could be deadly thanks to your training, Bucky knew that you would never hurt the people you cared about.

“Barnes~ where are you!” Bucky’s lips curled into a gentle smile as your voice floated through the hallway, immediately brightening up the entire building.

“I’m in the kitchen, doll!” He shouted back before your footsteps quickened and you burst into the room. Your eyes, although still bleary with sleep even though it was 2 in the afternoon, positively sparkled as soon as you spotted the ex-assassin. Bucky raised an eyebrow at you, and you flustered slightly, looking down at what you were wearing.

“I thought I lost that shirt.” 

“Yeah well don’t leave your stuff out if you don’t want someone to steal it.” You shrugged as you skipped over to the pot of fresh coffee still sitting in the machine.

“I seem to remember putting that shirt away, in my closet, in my locked bedroom.”  Bucky took a sip of his own coffee.

“I don’t know what to tell you, I think old age is finally getting to you.” You tried to hide your warming cheeks behind your mug but he could see right through you.

“Whatever you say doll.” A comfortable silence settled over the both of you for a moment before you cleared your throat.

“So… we have the place to ourselves today,” Bucky knew what was coming, “wanna binge-watch Supernatural with me?” You looked up at him with such a hopeful expression on your face, it made his heart skip a beat.

“I don’t know, I was planning on going for a long run today.” His voice tilted up but in your post-sleep haze, you couldn’t pick up on the shift in his tone. Immediately, your eyes dropped and your bottom lip poked out. Bucky’s stomach flipped and suddenly all he wanted to do was to scoop you up into his arms and kiss away your pout. Instead, he blurted out quickly, “Hey, hey. I was just teasing. Of course I’ll watch with you. Gotta see what Sean and Dan get up to.”

You sniffed. “It’s Sam and Dean and you know it. Don’t pretend you’re not as obsessed as I am.” The band around his heart loosened.

“Yeah sure. You want Chinese or Thai?” He fished his phone out from his pocket.

“Like you even have to ask.” You retorted.

——————

You felt like you were sitting next to a feral cat as the food coma finally set in. Empty boxes of food were scattered around the coffee table in front of you while yet another episode started up but it wasn’t as if you were paying any sort of attention to the screen in front of you.

Somehow, during your feast of questionable takeout, Bucky had migrated from where he had been perched on the other side of the couch to sitting beside you, the thick muscle of his thigh almost touching your knee where you were curled up. His blue eyes stayed glued to the TV while he sighed heavily and leaned back into the couch cushions.

You held your breath as his shoulders dropped, leaving barely an inch of space between you. This was the closest Bucky had ever gotten to you and you would be damned if you fucked this up. Of course you knew about his aversion to touch, you had even witnessed his violent response to it first hand but Jesus did you want to feel the heat of his skin, the strength of his body as he hugged you.

Bucky was undoubtedly your best friend out of all the Avengers yet he was the only one to have never felt your embrace. 

Your body trembled as you tried to keep yourself still. You didn’t want to accidentally brush against him and send him scrambling off but you also didn’t want to move away and give him the impression that you didn’t want him near you. And selfishly, you did want him beside you if only to fuel your hopeless crush on the man. 

There was a gunshot on the screen, startling you. You jumped and suddenly, you were half on top of Bucky. 

Your palm spread across the expanse of his stomach, letting you feel the hardness of his abs and the warmth that radiated off of him. The tip of your nose brushed against his as your eyes locked. You both stayed there for a second before the reality of the situation hit you squarely in the chest.

“Oh god Bucky I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You threw yourself back against the arm of the couch as panic bubbled up in your gut. Bucky remained frozen where he sat, both his hands slightly raised as he looked down at his lap. “Bucky I-“ Your voice was thick with tears. 

You shook your head as you pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes, desperately trying to keep them away. How stupid were you? You knew you should’ve just given him some more space, paid attention to the TV so you would know if something would startle you. Do literally anything else besides jumping on the man with severe trauma. You messed everything up.

“Doll,” Bucky cooed as his hand gently wrapped around your wrists, slowly pulling them down so he could look at you, “I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?” He chuckled softly, now bringing your hands into his lap so he could hold them.

“How could I ever be mad at you? I know it was an accident but more than that, I know you would never want to hurt me. I’m safe with you.” You could feel the slight tremble in his hands like he was struggling to keep touching you but Bucky refused to let go, he even shuffled closer to you. You nodded but stayed quiet. He finally smiled. “Besides, I think it’s time I got one of those famous Y/N hugs. Not now of course, I’m way too fucked up for that, but soon.”

“Don’t be mean to yourself Barnes,” you scolded, “lots of people hurt you. You get to be patient with healing. We just make small adjustments, build up to it y’a know.”

“Yeah, small adjustments.” His right hand slid into your left, your fingers intertwining as you both melted back into the couch, your eyes drifting back to your show that neither of you would be paying any attention to. After a few minutes, Bucky’s thumb began to rub against the skin of your knuckles, a delicate back and forth that both sent a flurry of butterflies into flight in your stomach and ignited your cheeks with a blazing heat.

Small adjustments indeed.

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[fyodoro]

4:15am — Hayato Suo

“A real gentleman is as polite to a little girl as to a woman.”

You remember reading that exact line a while back, though you can’t remember where. And if it weren’t for your boyfriend holding a lost little girl’s hand as he brings her to safety, you would have forgotten the quote altogether.

But today that quote wasn’t leaving your mind anytime soon.

“Here you go, let’s sit down here,” Suo gestured to a nearby bench, gently guiding her through her teary eyes. “Do you happen to remember your parent’s number?”

The young girl sniffled and wiped her tear stained cheeks. “N-No, I’m sorry…” she croaked, guilt creeping into her glossy eyes.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hey now— it’s okay,” he whispered soothingly. “I’m sure they’re looking for you too. Could you give us a visual description of what they look like?”

You were seated next to the little girl while Suo was crouched besides her, opting to give you the leftover seat for a chance to rest your legs. It was a sweet gesture, really. But you wish he’d give himself an opportunity to rest too, seeing as he just dealt with a small gang all by himself.

How this situation started was a blur. One minute you were shopping for a new flavor of tea with Suo, and the next you were comforting a girl no older then ten while your boyfriend beat up a group of punks that thought it’d be fun to pick on her. The moment they were all down, Suo had the three of you flee the scene to keep the young girl safe.

You kept a gentle gaze on the girl next to you, though it didn’t stop you from sending Suo a concerned glance for her. She was clearly frightened— no doubt about it, and you couldn’t blame her. If you were little, lost from your parents, and older kids started teasing you, you’d get worked up as well.

“They’re tall… both reallyyy tall,” she said through sniffles. “Mommy has long blonde hair, and daddy has big curly hair on his head and face.”

Suo nodded, retaining the newly acquired information. “I see, can you recall the last place you saw them?”

He gazed at her softly, a look that made her feel safe and secure despite it coming from a stranger. Her sniffles stifled, and her breathing soothed.

Before she could respond, haste footsteps approached the three of you. You snapped your head in the direction the sound came from for confirmation that it wasn’t the boys from earlier. Instead, you were met with unfamiliar faces that matched the description you had just heard.

“Oh goodness, there she is!”

The blonde woman came rushing to her daughter, scooping her up in her arms as she let out a sigh of relief. “We were so worried about you…”

Suo and you both stood, finding your way back to each other’s sides as you watched the small family reunite.

The man— who you could only assume was the little girl’s father— bowed in gratitude.

“Thank you, thank you so much for keeping her safe,” he expressed, sounding quite out of breath.

“We were happy to help,” Suo smiled. “She didn’t get herself into any trouble, unfortunately it came to her. So please, don’t blame her for the commotion.”

The girl’s mother set her back on her feet, allowing her to hug both your and Suo simultaneously. You both hugged back, of course.

“I hope I can be as cool as you guys one day…!”

You side-eyed your boyfriend subtly, as did he, and let out a small chuckle. Neither of you would consider your actions to be “cool,” they were just good deeds. It’d be pure evil to leave such a young kid alone in a dangerous situation, something neither you or Suo would stand for.

“Again, thank you so much. We really can’t thank you enough for handling everything.”

You waved your hands, “It was no problem, really. Like he said— we were glad to help.”

Suo nodded next to you, tilting his head and sending a close-eyed smile to the family, waving as they set off. Once they were out of sight, a sigh of relief escaped your lips.

“Stressed?”

“Not anymore, but that whole thing had my heart racing. That poor girl…” your voice trailed off, thinking about what might’ve happened if neither of you were nearby. “Although…”

His brow lifted in curiosity as you turned to face him with a teasing grin. “I never imagined you being such a hero to kids~”

“What can I say?” he chuckled. “I’ve always been a gentleman haven’t I? That’s what you and the others have been telling me, at least.”

“Yeah, but I think this qualified you as a true gentleman.”

There’s no way that quote won’t cross your mind every time you see Suo from now on. Not until it’s erased from your memory, that is.

© enassbraid 2024. i do not permit plagiarism, translations, or reposts of my work on any platform

[misspygmypie]

Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 12

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 2092 Click here for Part 11

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Noah had always looked up to Lando. From the day they met at that Formula 1 Meet & Greet Noah had latched onto Lando with a love that only grew stronger as time passed. And when Lando married Y/N their bond deepened even more. 

One afternoon, after a fun day out and about, Y/N called Noah into the living room. Lando was already there, sitting on the couch with a mysterious envelope in his hands. Noah, curious, climbed onto the couch between them.

“Hey, buddy,” Lando started, his voice warm and a bit nervous. “We’ve got something special to talk to you about.”

Noah’s eyes widened as he looked from Lando to Y/N, who smiled encouragingly. “What is it?” he asked.

Lando handed the envelope to Noah, who took it carefully, sensing that whatever was inside was important. “Why don’t you open it and find out?” Lando suggested.

Noah opened the envelope and pulled out a set of papers. He recognized some of the words, like his name, but didn’t understand what they meant. He looked up at Lando, who smiled gently.

“Those are adoption papers, Noah,” Y/N explained, placing a hand on her son’s back. “It means that Lando wants to officially be your father, not just in our hearts but in every way possible.”

Noah’s eyes filled with tears as he looked up at Lando. “Really?”

Lando nodded, his own emotions threatening to spill over. “Yes, Noah. I’ve wanted this from the moment I met you and now, if you’re okay with it, we can make it official.”

Without hesitation, Noah threw his arms around Lando, hugging him tightly. “Yes, please!”

Not long later, the day finally arrived for them to go to court and make everything official. Y/N dressed Noah in a little suit that matched Lando’s and she couldn’t help but smile at how much they looked alike. Maebry was in a cute dress smiling, as if she knew something special was happening.

When they arrived at the courthouse Lando took Noah’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Ready for this, buddy?” he asked with a smile.

Noah nodded, his eyes shining with anticipation. 

Inside the courtroom, the atmosphere was calm and supportive. The judge, a kind-looking woman, smiled warmly as the family took their seats. After a few formalities and questions towards all three of them it was all done.

There was a collective sigh of relief and happiness as the judge signed the final documents. Noah beamed up at Lando, who knelt down to be at eye level with him.

“It’s official, buddy. I love you so much,” Lando said, his voice thick with emotion.

Noah wrapped his arms around Lando’s neck, hugging him as tightly as he could. When they left the courthouse, the sun shining brightly, Lando scooped Noah up and carried him on his shoulders. Noah giggled, his laughter echoing through the courtyard.

Y/N walked beside them, carrying Maebry, her heart full as she watched her boys together. They had made it official - their family was complete in every way that mattered. Almost…

_____

The next morning the small family set off on a little adventure. Lando had first met the adorable puppy a few months earlier during a McLaren video shoot. The little furball had stolen his heart instantly and he had made a promise to the shelter to bring the puppy home once their family was ready.

Now, with Noah happily settled into their new Monaco home and Maebry just two months old, it was time to make good on that promise. Noah was practically beaming on their way to the shelter, clutching his plush puppy toy and chattering about all the fun they’d have with their new pet.

“Lando, do you think the puppy will like me?” Noah suddenly asked, eyes wide with anticipation.

Lando smiled, giving the boy a warm nod through the rearview mirror. “I’m sure he’ll love you. You’ve got a lot of love to give.”

When they arrived at the shelter, Lando himself could barely contain his excitement, remembering just how adorable the puppy was and how he instantly fell in love. The staff led them to a cozy little area where they would meet the little dog. As soon as the door opened the white and brown puppy bounded towards them, tail wagging furiously, clearly recognizing Lando.

Noah knelt down eagerly alongside Lando and the puppy rushed to both of them, licking their faces and making them burst into delighted laughter. “He remembers you, Lando,” Noah exclaimed, hugging the puppy tightly.

Lando, sitting beside Noah and the playful puppy, looked at Y/N with a proud smile. “I’m so glad we could finally bring him home,” he said, his voice filled with the sound of pure happiness.

Y/N, with Maebry cradled in one arm, watched the heartwarming scene. “He’s perfect,” Y/N said, her heart swelling with love as she looked at the happy faces around her.

_________

It was on a Tuesday late afternoon in Monaco several weeks later. The city below bustled with life but up on the balcony of their apartment, everything felt calm. The balcony was one of Lando’s favorite places, offering a perfect view of the ocean and a sense of peace that was hard to find in the busy world of Formula 1.

Y/N had just finished feeding Maebry, who now slept peacefully in a bassinet beside Lando. Noah was busy playing with his toy cars, his small hands guiding them across the tiles as he created an imaginary racetrack. He was fully absorbed in his game, his little face scrunched up in concentration as he narrated the race between his favorite driver - Lando - and a fierce imaginary rival.

“And Lando Norris takes the lead,” Noah exclaimed, his voice rising with excitement. “He’s the fastest driver ever! No one can beat him!”

Lando, laying nearby on a lounge chair, watched with a smile. There was something magical about these quiet moments at home, away from the noise and chaos of race weekends. Here, on the balcony, with the sea stretching out before them and the sun warming their faces, everything felt right.

Noah’s love for racing had been clear from the moment Lando met him at the Meet & Greet. It was in the way he watched every Grand Prix with wide eyes, in the way he mimicked the sounds of engines as he played with his toy cars and in the way he looked up to Lando with a mix of awe and adoration. Lando had made it a point to nurture that passion, spending hours with Noah, teaching him about cars and sharing stories from his own racing career.

But it wasn’t just the racing that bonded them. It was the little things - the bedtime stories at night, the spontaneous games of hide-and-seek, the way Noah would reach for Lando’s hand without thinking whenever they were out together. Over time, Lando had come to love Noah as his own and he knew that the bond they shared was as deep as any biological connection.

As Noah continued his imaginary race, Lando leaned back in his chair, letting the sounds of the boy’s play wash over him. The rhythmic sounds of the ocean below, combined with Noah’s joyful commentary, created a peaceful soundtrack that made Lando’s heart grow bigger. 

Inside, Y/N finished tidying up, her eyes drifting back to the balcony every few moments, checking on the peaceful scene outside. Maebry’s arrival had brought a new kind of joy to their lives, a joy that was both exhilarating and exhausting. Yet, watching Lando with both Noah and Maebry filled Y/N with a huge feeling of happiness. They were a family now, complete in every way.

Y/N stepped out onto the balcony, joining Lando and Noah. She sat down on the chair beside her husband, her hand grabbing his as she leaned in to watch Noah’s game. 

After a few more laps around the imaginary track, Noah suddenly stood up, holding his toy car in the air in triumph. “And Lando Norris wins again,” he declared, his face beaming with pride. “He’s the best driver in the whole wide world!”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “You really think so, buddy?”

Noah nodded enthusiastically and then, with a burst of energy, ran over to Lando, climbing onto his lap. He nestled against Lando’s chest, holding the toy car close as he sighed in contentment.

Lando wrapped his arms around Noah, his heart full as he held the boy close. He had never imagined that his life would turn out like this, finding not only the love of his life in Y/N but also the joy of being a father figure to Noah. And now, with Maebry in their lives, that joy had only grown.

Noah’s small body was warm and solid against his and the sound of the ocean below was a soothing backdrop to their quiet moment. 

Just then, Noah lifted his head and looked up at Lando with wide, innocent eyes. Without any hesitation, he said, “I love you, Daddy.”

The words took Lando by surprise, stopping him in his tracks. It was a simple statement, yet it carried a weight that left Lando momentarily speechless. 

For a few seconds Lando just stared at Noah, his heart swelling and starting to beat faster. He could feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes but he blinked them away, not wanting to lose this moment. Noah’s expression was so pure, so full of love and trust, that it made Lando’s breath catch in his throat.

Lando tightened his hold on Noah, his voice thick as he finally was able to speak again. “I love you too, Noah,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “So, so much.”

Noah smiled, satisfied with the response and snuggled back against Lando’s chest, closing his eyes as the warmth of the afternoon sun and the gentle rocking of Lando’s arms began to lull him to sleep.

Y/N leaned over, resting her head on Lando’s shoulder. “You’re amazing, you know that?” she whispered, her voice full of pride.

Lando shook his head slightly, still reeling from the unexpected emotion of the moment. “I didn’t expect that,” he admitted softly, his eyes fixed on Noah’s peaceful face. “But hearing him call me ‘Dad’... it’s the best thing I’ve ever heard.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes shining with love. “He’s always seen you as his dad,” she said, her voice filled with certainty. “It just took him a little while to say it.”

“I’ll do everything I can to be the best dad for both of them,” he promised, his voice firm with resolve.

“I know you will,” Y/N replied, squeezing his hand.

They sat there for a while, the four of them huddled together on the balcony as the afternoon slowly turned into evening, the little puppy snuggled up to Y/N’s feet. 

When it got darker Lando carefully stood up, still cradling the sleeping Noah in his arms. Y/N followed, gently lifting Maebry from her bassinet. They moved quietly through the hallways, trying not to disturb the peaceful slumber of their children. When they reached Noah’s room Y/N pulled back the covers on his bed and Lando gently laid him down, tucking him in with all the care, how he had done it countless times before.

Noah stirred slightly but didn’t wake, his little hand clutching the blanket as he settled deeper into sleep. They moved on to Maebry’s room where Y/N carefully placed their daughter in her crib, watching as her tiny chest rose and fell with each breath.

Finally, Y/N reached out and took Lando’s hand, pulling him gently toward the door. “Come on,” she whispered. “Let’s let them rest.”

They returned to the balcony and sat together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the warmth of the day lingering in the air around them. Lando closed his eyes, his mind replaying the sound of Noah’s voice, those simple words that had changed everything.

“I love you, Daddy.”

It was a moment Lando knew he would carry with him forever, a reminder of the bond they had formed and the family they had become. This was his life now - full of love, full of joy and full of the kind of moments that made everything else worth it. He had found his place, his purpose and it was right here with Y/N, Noah and Maebry.

______

AN: This was the last part and OMG I can't put in words how thankful I am for all of your comments and love shown for this story 🥹😭❤️

It started as a simple request from @remmysthings and turned into this and I couldn't be happier 🥹

The story might be done but I am open for requests - even for oneshots with Lando/Noah 🫶

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